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hairmetal666 · 3 months

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Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.

But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.

They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.

Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.

It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.

"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.

Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?

"No, of course not," he answers too fast.

"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."

"That's not true! We're in one together right now."

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."

Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.

"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.

Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."

Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."

"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."

He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.

They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.

"You're a shit liar, Harrington."

"Ed--I'm not--"

"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.

"Don't be stupid, Munson."

"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."

"I do not. Grow up."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"

"There isn't--"

"Stop lying!"

"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"

Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.

"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"

Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."

"It was the wrong one!"

"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."

"But you didn't."

"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."

"It doesn't matter."

"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"

"Yes, I can! I know."

"You don't! You think--"

"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"

Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.

Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"

"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"

And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."

"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.

In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.

"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"

"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."

They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.

"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"

"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #angst #angst with a happy ending #getting together #falling in love #protective steve harrington #oblivious eddie munson #mutual pining #steve harrington is bad at feelings #not quite rivals not quite enemies but a secret third thing to lovers #it's angst but then it's sweet #we're all traumatized here

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touyasdoll · 9 months

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After Class

pairing: professor!Gojo x student!reader (fem)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: inappropriate power dynamics, professor kink, power play, cum eating, oral (f!receiving), reader is wearing a thong and a skirt, semi public sex, rough sex, let me know if I missed any

notes: turns out I can still write smut, I think. hope you enjoy <3

"My next class is in 20 minutes, gorgeous," Satoru coos in your ear, grinding the tent in his slacks against your thinly clad pussy, only concealed by the fabric of your cotton thong beneath your skirt.

"You should hurry up and fuck me then already. I don't wanna keep you, professor," you purr, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you drop your hips back.

A moan leaves your lungs as you grind on his length just right, sending a shiver along your spine as your soaked cunt clenches around nothing.

He does love to tease, but he doesn't have the luxury of time today and he knows it. He's also so hard that it's beginning to hurt and the noises coming from you only make it worse.

"I want to keep you though," he whispers smoothly as he drapes himself across your back, lowering himself on his long arms to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

He nips at it, reaching down to free himself from his pants before he flips your skirt up and hooks a finger into the thin strip of cotton separating him from what he's after.

Should he be fucking a student? No.

Does he care when his cock is buried inside you though? Also no.

"M'all yours for the next 19 minutes, baby. Make 'em count," you say as you reach over to grab onto the edge of the desk as you shake your ass.

"You're gonna be mine for a lot longer, princess," he replies as he glides the head of his dick against your folds, letting your juices soak the tip before he slowly sinks inside of you.

A groan pulls from him as your breathless gasp echoes back at your from the surface of the large wooden desk. He's so big it's mind numbing. Even when he takes his time.

"Fuck, Satoru," you breathe his name out, whimpering when he starts to move.

He slowly draws his hips back, the motion occuring in time with the handsome smirk spreading across his face, which only portrays a fraction of the insanity this man is able to convey.

"I'd love to hear you say my name when I'm not inside you. It sounds so good on your tongue," he says as he stands tall and grabs your hips, rolling his own at a steady pace.

"It'd probably make me hard anyway," he continues as he suddenly picks up the tempo, gripping your hips hard enough to threaten to leave bruises in the wake of his long fingers as his thrusts start to jostle your entire frame.

You cry out, wholly overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your entire body. It's easy to forget just how good it feels when you're with him until you find yourself here again, drowning in him while his cock drowns in you.

You grip the edge of the desk tighter, clinging to it as the two of you both struggle not to grow too loud for fear of alerting someone passing by in the hall to your illicit activities.

"Holy shit, you feel so fucking good, baby," he growls through grit teeth, colliding with you at an almost unnatural pace as his cock grows impossibly harder inside of you. "So tight. S'like your pussy doesn't wanna let me go."

You wish you could respond, but you can't. Not with the way it feels like he's threatening to puncture your lungs with every unforgiving shift of his hips. It's all you can do to hang on while the pressure inside of you grows with each passing second.

You do respond with a cry, one of pure pleasure. Your nails press hard into the wood, clutching despertely like it's your only tether to this realm, because it is. The euphoria coursing through you, promising that it will overcome you, is so all encompassing that it nearly blinds you; it strikes you dumb.

He looks down, committing to memory the glorious sight of his cock plunging in and out of you, punishing your cunt. His and his only. You are his and, in this moment, you both know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He puts his all into giving you what you want, what he knows that you need, driving himself into you with every ounce of strength that he has, spurred on by the need to claim you, even though he already has you right where he wants you. Pliant and accepting beneath him.

"Need you to cum for me, gorgeous. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice much more calm than his body feels as every inch of him grows taut, threatening to snap if pulled any tighter.

You nod, you think you do, at least. Everything is rendered inconsequential as something inside you explodes, making you see stars even when your eyes roll back inside of your head.

He wraps a hand around your mouth, presesing it tight over your face to muffle the feral scream that pours from you. You couldn't stop it if you tried, not if your life depended on it.

"That's it. That's fucking it, baby," he mutters a second before his own end comes to claim him, stealing all of the breath from his lungs and inspiring his body to move on it's own.

His hips cast into yours as his seed spills into your womb, filling you completely as you whine and readily accept it, pushing yourself up with what strength you have left in your body to thrust your hips back to meet his own, drawing out his pleasure as he draws out yours.

"Satoru," you breathe out, sighing in ecstasy and your body gives out, thumping onto the desk while his motions stutter and then still.

He drapes himself over you, kissing along the back of your neck to nip at your flesh, to have one last taste of you before he reluctantly parts his form from yours, slipping out of you and sending a sinful mixture of both of your essences dripping onto the floor.

"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs into your ear, kising the side of your face.

"I could say the same," you sigh, eyes heavy and body seemingly lifeless as you try to will your legs to move, but it's useless with every neuron inside you still firing and him lazily draped across your back.

"At least we'll go together," he muses, his lips quirking into a smile as he nips your ear one last time, sending a shiver down your spine before he stands tall to tuck himself back into his pants.

You push yoursself up once you've recovered, tilting your head to one side as you look him over and hop up onto the desk.

"Eat it," you command cooly, looking him straight in his baby blue eyes that have reduced you to nothing time and time again.

"What?" He quirks a brow, looking you over.

"Eat your cum out of my cunt, Satoru," you demand again as you lay back on your elbows and part your legs, displaying the mixture of you and him trapped between your thighs, leaking out of you.

He looks down, eyes widening slightly before he flashes you that smirk that never fail to make your knees weak and sinks down to his own.

His hands come up to hold onto your thighs, fingers running aong your still sensitive skin as his breath fans your core before he dives in, ice blue eyes locked with yours.

You gasp, your hand flying into his snow white locks to tug gently as his eyes flutter and falls closed while he devours you. His tongue laps at your pussy, greedily tasting the concoction of your escapades.

"Fuck," he murmurs into you, sucking on your clit just to smirk when you whine.

He does as you bid him, tasting the salt of his own design and the sweetness of you, letting it bathe his tongue as he cleans you. Rids you of the evidence of the sin you both committed so willingly, but he doesn't stop.

He doesn't stop even as your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harshly at the stark white tresses that have been turned wild by your touch. If anything, he laps more incessantly at your center, sending you careening off into an abyss that you haven't seen before. That you haven't had the intene pleasure of seeing until he brought you there and tosses you over that precipice.

You howl and he reaches up, clamping his hand down over your mouth as your hips grind desperately against his face. He groans against your folds before he wreches himself away to stand up and claim your mouth, as if he hadn't taken enough already.

You kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue as his slides against yours, exploring your mouth without shame, because that was left at the door when you two were together. There was no place for it.

The handle on the door jiggles, stirring both of you as your heads whip towards the door nearest the front of the room.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to collect your senses as you push him off and stand up, adjusting your panties and your skirt.

"Fucking early birds," he mutters as he wipes his chin, staining the sleeve of his shirt with your juices.

You move to grab your bag and he follows you, his long legs allowing him to keep up even with your head start.

He catches your wrist and you find yourself bumping into his imposing frame. As lean as he looks, it's all muscle. All height, towering over you as he bends down, catching your jaw with his other hand as he kisses you again.

You get lost in it, the knocking on the door fades away as you savor his taste—your taste—again.

"I'll be seeing you, beautiful," he says softly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go.

You flash him a smile and grab your things as you chew on your lip, making for the door towards the back as he heads for the one at the front.

With one last longing glance, the both of you turn the respective handles in your grasp and you slip out of the room, retreating into the hallway to carry on with your day, traces of him lingering on your skin. In your soul, where he now resides.

thank you for reading! likes, reblog, and comments are all greatly appreciated ❤️

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #just writing✏️

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hunterwritings · 5 months

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𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍

summary: "Tbh after Johnny I thought I could ask bi-han angry sex?, like the sub reader with their hands tied behind their back, while bi-han do his job, and maybe in the end he cuddle reader, making sure his beloved is fine" | requested here warnings: 18+, smut, angry/make-up sex, rough sex, choking, fingering finger sucking, power struggle, temperature play, ice play (kinda?) notes: need him carnally

"You are insufferable."

His words cut you like a blade. You scoffed and shook your head before turning away from him. "And you are unbelievable!" You spit as you raise a finger against his chest. You turned and began to walk away from him before he grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You speak to your Grandmaster with such disrespect." Bi-han snarls as he holds tightly on your arm. "Oh? So now you are my Grandmaster?" You remark with wit. "After the various times you have reminded me that I am no Lin Kuei warrior, now you want me to refer to you as 'Grandmaster'?" His eyes squint with anger boiling in his veins.

All of this could have been avoided, it really could have. But Bi-han had overstepped, treated you as if you were just another Lin Kuei member and not his dashing partner, his betrothed. You weren't going to back down that easy, you knew Bi-han had a sense of ego when it came to how he ordered around people but you'd be damned if he'd say something like that to you. Today you could tell that Bi-han was annoyed and was clearly taking it out on you, to which you stood your ground.

"I am your wife, not just a pawn for you to order around!" You snap, pulling your hand away from his grip. "And if you wish to keep me, you will understand that." You add. His eyes scanned over your face, as if he was contemplating his next move. Although he would never admit it, he loved this side of you. The side of you that stood your ground and wouldn't take his shit just because of his title. Bi-han is draw to confidence just as much as he is drawn to obedience.

He rose a hand to press on your chest before pressing you against the wall, harsh but not enough to hurt you. A gasp left your lips, a bit shocked at his response. Before he could get a word out, you quickly push his arm off your chest and swoop down to sweep his legs out from the ground, causing him to fall onto his back. While he was still dazed, you rushed to sit atop of him and reach for his hands to try and pin him down; you knew it was pointless due to how much stronger he was than you, but you weren't going to submit to his rude behavior and you wanted to make it clear. Before you were able to pin his hand to the ground, he quickly grabbed a hold of your waist and turned you over so that you were pinned beneath him. He was quick to pin you wrists down to the cold, wooden floor. A frustrated groan left your lips as you dropped your head back onto the floor, your chest heaving up and down.

"Do you truly wish to fight me?' He asks, almost with a cocky tone in his voice.

A guttural growl sounded from your throat as you looked up at him. He was basking in this sight, knowing that you wished so hard to overpower him even though you knew you physically couldn't.

"I deserve an apology." You firmly stated. A chuckle came from his lips before he leaned down until he was just an inch from your face.

"You're so self-righteous." He says before roughly pressing his lips to yours, feeling an angry groan vibrate against his lips. Even with how angry you were, you still moved your lips against his; how could you not? Before he pulled away, you bit the bottom of his lip, pulling the flesh back before letting go, seeing a mischievous smile on his face.

Without a second to think, he rapidly moved his hands from your wrists to your waist, picking you up with ease before slamming you into the wall. He held his cold hands tightly on your thighs as your back pressed against the wall.

"You expect me to forgive you if you fuck me hard enough? How easy do you think I am?" You snap as you reach one of your hands up to tightly wrap around his neck, the other tightly gripping at his exposed bicep, digging your nails into his skin deep enough to draw blood.

"I guess we will find out, won't we?" He smiled with arrogance before crashing his lips into yours again as he feels the grip around his neck tighten.

He held you up with one arm as his other reached under your legs and pressed up against your clothed folds. A small moan fell from your lips, trying to suppress it with biting your bottom lip. His ego inflated at the sound of you, knowing that you tried so hard to defy him but still came undone at the slightest of his touch.

He pulled you away from the wall and dropped you onto the bed. He crawled on top of you as you laid your head against the pillow, leaning down to press his lips onto yours. As he opened his mouth eagerly to capture your lips, you reached up your hand to shove your middle and ring finger into his mouth. To your surprise, he roughly sucked on your fingers as you pushed them further down his mouth. You removed your fingers from his mouth and brought them to your mouth, leaving a string of saliva falling from your mouths.

"You are trying so hard to be defiant." He wraps his cold hand around your neck.

You chuckle as you reach your hand up to wrap around his own neck, a feeble attempt to gain power. "So stubborn." He chuckles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

His hands roam your body, pulling off your clothes one by one, not daring to remove his lips from yours. His ice cold fingers make their way to your folds, now exposed. He inserted one of his fingers into your pussy, causing a groan to hum against his lips. He quickly pumped his fingers into you, pressing his thumb up against your clit. Your legs instinctively squeeze around his figure as he continues his pace, curling his fingers into you. You threw your head back onto the pillow as you rose your hands to grip at the wooden headboard above you. As you reach your hands up, Bi-han takes his free hand to grab a hold of both of your wrists and hold them tightly in on of his hands. As he holds onto your wrists, he presses tightly against the headboard and suddenly, you feel cold ice surrounding your wrists. You look up to see that Bi-han had frozen your hands above your head, rendering you incapacitated.

You groan before looking up at him, a smug grin plastering his face. "You need to cool off." He smirks as he removes his pants. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill you." You shake your head, wincing slightly at the cold on your hands. "You couldn't if you tried." He added.

Without warning, he positions himself between your wet pussy and slams fully into you. A loud moan erupted from your mouth as your head fell back. He moved harshly at a face pace in and out of you, gripping the area of the headboard around your frozen hands. You felt tears forming in your eyes, a mix from the roughness of Bi-han slamming into you and the cold sensation of ice from above you. "Fuck-" You cursed.

He grabbed a hold of your chin and forced you to look at him as he shoved his cock further into you. His other hand held tightly on your hips as the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room. Your back arched off the fabric of the bed as you squeezed around him tightly, feeling his cock hit your cervix. Bi-han groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him, one of his hands reaching up to tightly grip the headboard around your hands. "Where was all that talk before, huh?" He teased, continuing his fast pace between your hips. "Ugh... fuck you." You breathe out with a moan, feeling cold water drip from around your wrists down your arms and onto your collarbone. "It should be a privilege to have my cock buried in you ―shit." You could feel his hips begin to falter as he could feel his climax coming. "You ― ah!, would be alone with your hands... without me." You tried so hard to keep the last word, it made Bi-han almost laugh.

"Gods, I love you." He whispered before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, much softer this time. Ironically, he sped up his hips, creating loud moans from your lips as you clenched tightly around him, cumming hard on his cock. As you squeezed him, he moaned loudly before burying his head in your neck, gripping at your hips tightly. He shakily hit his hips against yours a few more times before spilling his seed deep within you, clawing at your sides as he heaved.

The two of you stayed in this position for a moment, heavy breaths exchanged as he pressed his sweaty forehead against the crook of your neck. He reached a hand up to hold your cheek softly as move slightly to press his forehead against yours, feeling beads of sweat on his fingertips. He leans up to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting up to focus on the ice around your wrists. He holds on the block of ice and gives it a swift hit, breaking the ice into various pieces and releasing your hands. A small exhale of relief leaves you as the cold dissipates from your skin. His hands wrap around yours softly, rubbing your reddened skin as he looks down at you with soft eyes. "Are you alright?' He genuinely asks as you nod in response.

"You are right." He breathes out, taking you aback. "You are so much more than a mediocre warrior." He admits as he holds your face tightly. You chuckled slightly as you raise your head from the pillow. "That is what I like to hear." You smile as you lean up and kiss him. He exhales as he wraps his large arms around you tightly, pulling you even closer to him. His hands gripped around your back as he rubbed in circles. "You are so much more than anything I deserve." He compliments. "You know your worth, know how you deserve respect and nothing less, it makes me proud to be with you." He explains as you smile up at him as you caressed the side of his face. "I don't wish to lose you." He whispers softly. "You will not lose me as long as you treat me as your equal." You peck him on his lips as he nods.

"Let me bathe you, clean you up." He offers. "Only if you will join me." You smirk as he chuckles before swiftly picking you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #mk1 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #bihan x reader #subzero #subzero x reader #bi han smut

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marvel-ous-m · 1 year

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Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (4/5)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five

Ao3 Link

A.N.: I can’t believe we’re already at the penultimate chapter! I know it seems crazy that it’ll all get wrapped up after this, but I promise it will. You’ll have to forgive me for the D&D game description... in addition to being a Stranger Things nerd, I have been a D&D nerd for the last ten or so years, so describing a campaign is super fun for me and I sometimes can get off-track. Speaking of which, I did some 1st edition research but I mostly play 5th, so apologies if there are any discrepancies! All that to say, hopefully you can pick up on the symbolism in the campaign scene, too! Okay, rant over, now onto the chapter.

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“Alright, Sir Grant the Good, roll a perception check.”

The familiar clatter of dice against the wood tabletop filled the room, and it seemed that the entire party held their breath to hear Grant’s result.

“15 plus three- what’ll an 18 get me?”

Eddie hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “You see a pair of eyes staring back at you from deep in the tree line. They’re slightly yellow, certainly belonging to an animal, and seemingly a large one.” Eddie pauses to roll a die, then hisses under his breath. “The animal meets your eyes and sees you’ve spotted it. It lets out a low growl- what do you do?”

Grant groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, um- I draw my sword and I wave to Mistress Emery and Sir Geoffrey.”

“Sir Geoffrey stands beside Sir Grant and readies his bow.” Jeff speaks from his seat next to Grant, holding a D20 between his fingers, ready to roll initiative.

Gareth grinned, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view of the map on the table. “I come up to stand next to Sir Grant and ready myself to cast call lightning.”

“Um, sorry, can I-” Steve whispered from his place at the table, a chair that Eddie had moved up to have Steve sit next to him while he DM’d. Eddie turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up, Steve? You’re free to speak whenever you want, you don’t have to just watch quietly.” Eddie nudged Steve’s side, encouraging the jock to speak.

“Yeah, um, it’s just-” Steve cleared his throat, then looked at the other three members of Hellfire. “Mistress Emery is a Druid, right? So like, isn’t her animal handling through the roof or whatever? Why don’t you try and take care of the animal before you try to kill it?”

Gareth blinked in surprise, shot a look at Jeff and Grant, then turned to Eddie. “He knows D&D?!”

“He is sitting right here.” Steve muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Right- sorry, what Gareth meant to say is- how do you know D&D?” Jeff gave Gareth a warning glare, then turned his attention Steve’s way.

Steve sighed, shrugging somewhat awkwardly. “I babysit some middle schoolers. This one kid, Dustin, he’s obsessed with this stuff. Honestly all of them are, but I spend the most time with Dustin. He brought up a druid recently when we were walking around the tracks- sounded kinda interesting, so I listened.” Steve’s eyes shifted to stare down at the tabletop then, and he frowned to himself. “I used to pick up Nancy’s little brother from their campaigns, too. I’d usually have to wait around for at least thirty minutes for them to wrap things up before we could get a move on.”

The party sat in silence for a few moments, processing the revelation about Steve’s D&D knowledge. Finally Grant hummed in thought, then turned to Gareth. “He’s got a point. Plus, if we don’t attack immediately we save some spell slots, potentially some HP too.”

“Yeah, but the thing is growling! It’s probably going to pounce at us any minute now.” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms.

“Maybe it’s hurt. That could be a warning growl rather than it trying to pounce at us.” Jeff reasoned. “Just give it a try, Gareth. I’ll keep an arrow loaded and I can flank while you do an animal handling check so that if it attacks I can try and shoot at it before it does any damage.”

Gareth frowned, clearly annoyed, but nevertheless held up a D20. “Fine. I approach the forest line and hold a hand out in the direction of the animal.”

“Roll for animal handling.” Eddie flipped through his binder of notes as he spoke, easily finding the page he was looking for.

Gareth dropped the dice on the table, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he read the resulting roll. “Huh- Nat 20, and I’ve got a plus five on my modifier. What’ll that do for me?”

“The animal walks out of the forest, and you know from your studies that you’re now face to face with an Owlbear. The beast makes another growling sound, but is far less menacing. You see that Jeff was correct- the animal has a deep slash running from one of its talons up to its chest. You can tell that it originated from a sword, but the blood around the beast’s beak tells you that whatever fighter that had tried to attack the owlbear previously lost that battle. You can tell that the animal is more scared than anything. What do you do?”

“Um… okay. I cast cure wounds and then reach into my pack and provide the Owlbear with a piece of dried meat to show it that it can trust me?”

Eddie nodded, pulling a sticky note from his binder and handing it to Gareth, smirking as he did. “The Owlbear takes the food, trusts you, and decides to stay with your party. Here are its stats, it’ll now obey your commands and fight alongside you until its dying breath. Congratulations, Mistress Emery.”

“Holy shit! We have an Owlbear now, that’s so fucking cool.” Grant grins, nudging Gareth’s side. “Good work, man.”

Gareth scanned the sticky note, then smiled at Steve. “Thank Steve, he’s the one who suggested it. Did you sneak a look at Eddie’s notes or something?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it just sounded like a better alternative.”

“I made it injured so your band of fighters would have a better chance of killing the thing, but Steve’s little stunt had me thinking on my feet.” Eddie spoke up, then winked in Steve’s direction. Steve ducked his head in response, a blush playing at his cheeks. Interesting.

“Thanks, man.” Jeff nodded in Steve’s direction. “Maybe you should play with us next time. You seem to know your stuff.”

Steve snorted at that, shaking his head once again. “I barely know anything. Besides, all the dice and numbers would probably confuse the hell outta me. But… uh, thanks for the offer. Maybe one day.”

The party moved on with the campaign, killing some goblins on their route as they followed a map they had received from a barkeep at the beginning of the adventure. Steve chimed in occasionally when he found something interesting, and Eddie even had him roll a few times for some of the encounters. By the end of the campaign, the party was actively strategizing with him, and Steve was grinning ear to ear and giving his opinions on what to do next. The party ended up defeating the ‘big bad’ at the end, a goblin king and four of its soldiers. They recovered some treasure and a map, which Eddie told them would be the subject of the next chapter of their campaign.

It was about 7pm when they finally wrapped everything up, cleaned the room out, locked up, and walked together out to the parking lot. Steve, who had been pretty awake and alert for the entirety of the playthrough, was now looking much more exhausted. He waved goodbye to the boys and pulled his coat tighter around himself, then rushed from the back door of the school to his car through the biting November air.

The four members of Hellfire watched as Steve sped off, then stood together quietly under the awning of Hawkins High. Gareth broke the silence, crossing his arms to stave off the cold. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I was hesitant to believe it, but you’re right. Harrington’s cool.”

“You were right about the other stuff too, Eddie. He didn’t look too good. Do you know what happened? Why Billy pounded on him last weekend?” Jeff spoke up next, fidgeting with a string hanging off of his sweater.

Eddie sighed, producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with his zippo. “Nope.” Eddie popped the ‘p’ when he spoke, then took a long drag of the cigarette. “Barely had a chance to ask him about it, and he deflected any time I tried to get more information outta him. I think it all really messed him up, but he doesn’t want to admit it.”

The party stood in silence for a few more minutes, all lost in thought. This time, Grant broke the silence. “My mom wants me home for dinner by 7:30, so I gotta get going. But I’m cool with letting Steve into the party if everyone else is. Looks like it’d be good for him- probably good for us, too. He’s cool.” Grant zipped up his sweatshirt as he spoke, then pulled car keys out of his pocket. “Need a ride, Gareth?”

“Yeah, thanks man. I’m cool with letting Steve hang with us, too. Just let us know what we need to do Eddie.” Gareth waved goodbye to Jeff and Eddie, then followed Grant to his car.

“How ‘bout you, Jeff? Got anything against letting Steve into Hellfire?” Eddie questioned quietly. He took another long drag from the cigarette, watching as the smoke he breathed out disappeared into the cold night air.

“You know it’s fine by me, man.” Jeff paused, then sighed. “I am a little concerned, though.”

Eddie frowned. “About what?”

“About you.” Jeff moved his attention from the stray thread on his sweater to Eddie, crossing his arms. “About him, too. I’ve known you the longest out of everyone here, Eds. I can tell when you’ve got a crush. Harrington’s fragile- you said it yourself, and you saw how he was when he mentioned Nancy. It looks like everything is really fresh for him right now. All I’m asking is for you to keep that in mind as you move forward in making him feel welcome. I’m worried that things could go sideways. Either one of you, or both of you, for that matter, could be really hurt if things go wrong. Just… take it slow.” Jeff checked his watch then, wincing when he saw the time. “I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Like Gareth said, just let us know what we can do to help Steve feel welcome.”

Eddie nodded, watching as Jeff got into his car and drove off, leaving Eddie and his van alone in the parking lot. Eddie leaned against the brick wall of the school and dropped his cigarette onto the ground, watching as the light fizzled out in the thin layer of snow.

Step Two: Get the Party to Come Around on Steve Harrington, complete. Time for the Step Three (which would likely be the last step in his plan): Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire.

…with one important caveat. Do not fall harder for Steve Harrington.

Easier said than done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bisexualdisastersworld @jinxjinn @copingmechanizm @blackpanzy @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @evix-syne666 @crisisinverted17 @satan-is-obsessed @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @trashcanniballecter @thoughtfulbreadpolice @awholedamnmesstbh @chaoticvictorianspirit @jcmadgirl @satan-is-obsessed @tommyvelvet @sleepdeprivedflower @fruitmix @carvingsnowdogs @annabanannabeth @rhyswritesreadsandcries @a-little-unsteddie

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #my writing #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting #s2 rewrite #steve harrington needs a hug #hurt/comfort

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desmond69miles · 1 month

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Hi there!

Can I ask for an ink demon x reader headcanons for a chubby fem reader who’s really cuddly and sweet, but can’t always portray her emotions correctly? You can do SFW and/or NSFW, it’s up to you! But I’m in the mood for something cutesy and fluffy!

Also, I love your content, have a great day/night! ^^

It's been a little since last posting and asks have been marinating in the ask box for awhile... It's finally time to get them done in some spring cleaning.

And as always, thank you for your ask! I apologize for taking a literal lightyear - shits been INSANE.

Warnings/Tags: No big warnings! Major fluff, hints at reader being autistic. No NSFW!

[-: Starting off strong, your relationship with Bendy is a little rocky to start. Both of you poorly communicate your emotions. The Ink Demon being the Ink Demon, he's not always open for cuddles, hugs, and kisses, and struggles to properly set the boundary for when it's okay for physical intimacy. Most often him setting a boundary is a violent growl and a snap of his teeth; not the most welcoming thing. And of course, you can't properly communicate that it's hurtful (and scary) when he responds that way to your affection so most instances end in separation and the silent treatment.

[-: I do think that the more you were around each other and the more you got used to each others patterns/behaviors, communication would become easier and less vocalized, more shown throughout body language, especially on Bendy's part. His major communication is through body language, not spoken words, much like any animal (and there are verbal cues such as a low growl - meaning 'space, please' - a hiss - meaning 'I'm getting pissed' - and your personal favorite, a quiet trill meaning 'show me some affection').

[-: I can imagine some frustration on both your end and the Ink Demons, this is new to the both of you. Thankfully Sammy is there to give some pointers on how not to be mauled by his lord (which works a lot better for you). But as I said above, time, effort, praise, and unconditional love will make everything easier.

[-: Oh my lord, I know Bendy would be very stubborn even if communication was therapist approved. Like, imagine this,,

It's the middle of the night. Or, at least you think so; there's no real way to tell time this deep down in the studio. It was a very, very long day of walking, fighting for your life, and dealing with Sammy and there was nothing more you wanted than a hot bath and to curl up with your inky lover. The bath was achieved successfully, Bendy sat by the tub and played with a rubber duck while you relaxed and climbing in bed was fairly easy as well. Half way into your sleep though, your eyes opened to the sound of crunching. This wasn't like a bag of chips crunching or like paper, no, it was... hard. Boney, if you would.

"Bendy, what the hell are you chewing on?"

"A bone."

"...Can you stop?"

"...No."

[-: Back onto the cuddly and sweet part, I think that Bendy would like that in moderation. He needs his space occasionally as I said before, but I do think he'd curl up against you like a huge dog (in the middle of the night you'd wake up to him licking your arm but that's besides the point). PDA around the studio is a heavy no no but in closed doors, in strictly demon domain, the Ink Demon doesn't mind if you cling to his arm (more likely leg, have you seen how tall he is?) while he draws/chills.

And... I got no more inside my brain.

Thank you guys for reading <3 Comments/Reblogs are like cocaine please keep them coming

#ink demon x reader #bendy x reader #bendy and the ink machine x reader #batim x reader #bendy and the dark revival x reader #batdr x reader

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hanasnx · 11 months

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Can we pretty please hear more about ani being beat up before sex 🙏🙏🙏🙏

you call me papi indy i’ll do anything you want me to. i love talking about anakin getting beat up before sex— this is all i could think up off the dome, but! ppl should ask me/talk to me about anakin’s deranged impact play kink more often like this. get really violent with it

based on this post and this post

@xstarkillerx

warnings: severe impact play (both receiving), and some smutty material, brat!reader mentioned

☥ the thing is, i have no idea how a normal person would react when asked, “hey, i get my rocks off when i’m fought in the right circumstances. help me out?” so we’ll just have to pretend that you, our dear reader, are not normal

☥ you’ve accepted your lover is into some strange things, things you wouldn’t expect he’d get a boner about. one of them being, injury during sparring

he wants to hurt. and he also likes the consensual impact play and risk of hurting each other during sparring. he wouldn’t use the force in any way, solely him and his flesh (his metal arm is not used as an advantage either, not that he’s going easy on you, he’s just not trying to kill you). the rush of seeing you fight against him, even if he may think it’s futile. in turn, he cannot get enough of the adrenaline that he sustains when you land a strike.

being close to you, your back to his chest, and you gain enough room to elbow him in his nose. blood speeds to his cock. snatching a fist full of your hair to draw you back to him like a leash.

when you tire him out, he pins you with his body weight. your wrists in his hands, heaving over you, drooling on you. you wiggle underneath him, try anything to shift things in your favor, and he can’t help but rip your clothes off and have you right now on this mat.

☥ things like slapping him for commenting out-of-pocket-offensive shit unprompted, have given you insight as to how he accepts it. a fire ignites in his eyes. it grows until he cannot tell the difference between anger and lust.

when you act like a brat and need someone like him to put you in your place, it makes it all the more satisfactory when you fight him on it. banging your fists against his chest, and then his lower back when he throws you over his shoulder

when you try to kick him, he catches your ankle, and now you’re balancing on one leg essentially at his mercy. but he would’ve let it land if he felt like it. prove to you the kind of pain he can take, show you how much stronger he is.

☥ once you’ve gotten comfortable with everything (hardened by the war, you’ve learned how to take a punch. your pain tolerance is nothing short of advanced) anakin manages to land a hit onto your cheek, and he sucks on the bruise while he blows your back out

☥ there are times where he’s not in the mood to cause you pain, and so “sparring” becomes a “blocking exercise.” all the moves at his disposal, are dodging/blocking your attacks. of course, it’s impossible to block all of them, you’re a formidable opponent. which means he’s thinking of how he can turn this around in order fuck you on all-fours, while you’re kneeing his gut and flipping him onto the mat

☥ this specific kink of his, is his way of “safely” creating an outlet for that energy that’s generated in places like battle. instead of using that energy to maim and kill mercilessly, he directs it onto an activity thats mutually fun for the both you.

☥ being beaten, but knowing he’s large enough to stop it any time he wants to adds to the appeal.

☥ it becomes yours and his way of blowing off steam. taking out everything on each other. that’s essentially what he wants. whatever is burning up inside, to be unleashed on someone that’ll love you for it.

#donnie #whistle1whistle #brat!reader #indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker headcanons #ch: anakin #indy: headcanons

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gaybananabread · 3 months

Text

⌁₊˚⊹ Jay's Silly Moods⊹˚₊⌁

(Art this is based off of)

Definitely getting back into Ninjago… Halfway through drawing this, I got a very strong urge to write a self-indulgent fic. These goobers are slowly regaining their vice grip on my brain. I might be getting to the “Requested When Shit Was Closed” prompts soon, but big possibility. Back on task, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Jay

Ler: Cole

Summary: Jay’s been zapping his shipmates, sneaking in quick pokes and shockingly ticklish squeezes whenever he can. While it isn't his intention, most of those are aimed at Cole. Sick of the surprise jolts, the Earth ninja has a little vengeful fun of his own.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

The ninja were peacefully relaxing on the couch, trying to unwind after a long day of battles and villain encounters. Cole was listening to music, the faint sounds of “dad rock” coming through his headphones as he rested his arms behind his head. Zane was messing around with his circuitry, and Kai was sprawled out, trying to nap.

The only one not lazing around was Jay; he had a much more mischievous way of cooling down in mind.

Sneaking up near the couch, he positioned himself right behind the relaxed Cole. Not wasting another second, he sent a very small amount of electricity to his finger tips, tasing Cole's sides before taking off. The rocky boy jolted out of his trance, a surprised laugh flying from his lips as his arms came crashing down.

“GYAH! W-whahat the hell?” When he turned around to his perpetrator, though, all he saw was a streak of blue disappear around the corner. “Zappy jerk…”

Zane chuckled, shaking his head before resuming his tinkering. Kai was still snoozing, oblivious to the world. With a huff, Cole lowered his arms, not wanting to risk another attack before relaxing again. Damn Jay's silly moods…

The whole rest of that week was full of little pokes, squeezes and zaps from the blue ninja. Whenever anyone even thought of letting their guard down, he'd be there, disappearing the moment they tried to retaliate or catch him.

Most of the team just ignored it, used to his silly behavior. Sure, it was a little annoying sometimes, but it was all in good fun. Everyone was fine with that.

Everyone except Cole.

While he loves his friend's quirks, the constant tickling was getting on his nerves. The guy wore tank-tops daily; it wasn't exactly hard for Jay to get him.

But he had a plan. One that would surely keep Jay off his back, or at least for a little while. So, sitting on the couch and sprawling out, he waited for the inevitable pokes that would seal his fellow ninja's fate.

Jay snickered as he saw his rocky friend, sprawled out and relaxing on the couch. It was too easy! He should have been suspicious, but the brain goblins were overpowering his rationality with mischief.

Creeping over to the couch, he sent small sparks to his fingers. Just a little closer…wait is he smili-

“GOTCHA!”

Before Jay could even think to run, Cole shot his hands upward, latching onto the sparky boy’s wrists and flipping him over the couch. Cole was careful not to hurt him, though the shriek Jay let out surely did some hearing damage.

He was pinned in seconds, stuck lying on his stomach with a rather intimidating man on his waist. Whatever his friend was gonna do, he literally couldn't see it coming.

Anticipatory giggles bubbled past Jay's lips, his eyes wide and giddy-looking. “C-Cole, wait! Lehet's talk about thihihis!”

Cracking his neck, Cole smirked down at his fellow ninja. “Neh, I'm good. Actions have consequences, Jay..”

Without another word, Cole dug into the sparky boy's sides, squeezing the sensitive skin. He was done with Jay's shit; it was payback time.

“Nohohoho! Cohome on, thihihis ihis mehehean!” The brat tried to wriggle out of the hold, but Cole's hands were just out of reach. The position he was in was evil: Who pins people on their stomach?!

“You know what's mean? Poking your friends when they're trying to get stuff done. I'd say you deserve this, wouldn’t you?” He smirked, scritching little lightning bolts on his sides. It was silly, sure, but he kinda asked for it.

Jay kicked his feet behind Cole, trying anything to make things tickle less. It was a fruitless effort, though: he was stuck.

“Plehehease! Ihit’s nohohot fahair!” His giggling sounded whiny, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Cole scoffed and rolled his eyes. He wants to see unfair? Cole’ll show him unfair…

Snickering, he moved up to the zappy boy’s ribs, digging in and wiggling his fingers between each bone. That should kill him.

“C-Cohohole! Grk- NOHOhohot thehere! I'M SOHAHARRY! NYAHAHAHA!” Jay lost it when Cole dug into his ribs, loud belly laughter quickly replacing his giggles. Little snorts and squeaks flowed with the laughter, only adding to the mild chaos.

“Hmhmph. Sparky brat…” Cole just chuckled smugly, continuing to torment his fellow ninja. Besides the payback, his cute reactions were well worth it.

Thrashing wildly, Jay laughed his ass off, the tickling on his worst spot driving him insane. “P-PLEHEASE! COHOHOLE! I CAHAHAN’T-” He patted his hand, palm flat against the floor.

The moment Cole saw the tapping-out, he knew it was time to quit. Pulling his hands away, he climbed off Jay. The giggly boy immediately curled up in a ball, tickle-drunk and giddy.

“You alive, sparky?” Cole asked while rubbing Jay's back, trying to calm him down. There was an air of humor in his tone, but he was trying to be nice.

Jay tried to catch his breath, his cheeks flush and his nerves buzzing. “F-fuhuck youhuhu…”

“Alright, alright. I'm done being mean.” Snorting, Cole pulled his friend up into a hug. It was clear he enjoyed the short bout of being tickled, the agitation just a facade.“Next time, try just asking for what you want, okay? I'd be happy to help~”

Blushing heavily, Jay whined, though he did relax into the hug. It was warm, nice, and calming after all the laughter. Muttering something under his breath, Jay leaned his head against Cole's chest. If he wanted to be mean, the rocky boy was gonna be a pillow.

Cole lifted him up with a huff, carrying the lightning ninja to their beds. He laid him down, cuddling up next to him and pulling a blanket over them both. It wasn't a rare sight: the ninja saw some things on missions, and physical contact helped keep them calm.

It was ten o’clock: not the latest for them, but good enough to doze off. Cole closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of his fellow ninja and the happy air in the room. Yeah, he could get used to Jay's goofy moods…

#ninjago tickle #lee!jay #ler!cole #ticklish!jay #sfw tickling community #tickle #tickle fic #lego ninjago tickle #lego ninjago #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago masters of spinjitzu

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bunnygirl678 · 7 months

Text

Because I need to work on my WIPs and not add another I'm putting this out into the stratosphere, please as always (and literally any concept you see me throw around even if i wrote a fic about it i want more stories) feel free to steal it, draw it, write it, or use it to distract yourself from the pain radiating from the massive cut in your foot that has decided to just bleed all night (oddly specific bunny is not okay) anywhosers

-royalty au

-red is like the sole prince of a small nation, Pallet, his mom is the queen, despite the nation being small , they are increadibly strong thanks to pokemon trainer prince who beats everyone

-rocket nation with king gio had been attacking and waging a full out war but Red's pushed them back, now rocket nation is trying to form alliances, so Red's mom has to the do same thing

-a neighboring nation, Oakland (ha) had always fought with Red's nation over resources or something, but rocket is attacking them so they form an alliance

-and to form an alliance King Samuel sends his grandson Green to be married off

-cause daisy's the oldest so she'll be queen, and honestly the king thinks green is shit at everything so getting rid of him is a weight off his shoulders

-and green is pissed cause he's a strong trainer and had been doing a lot to protect his nation but his grandfather doesn't care

-red and green immediately hate each other but like they're married so they have to be around each other

-and green like snuck his pokemon with him and keeps sneaking away to train and eventually red catches him training and is like hey wait you like pokemon battling

-all the while rocket is forming alliances and planning a sinister take over of pallet then Oakland

-red and green bond over training

-and like all of the nobels and military leaders treat green like he's just arm candy but now Red's like hey wait you actually know stuff and are almost as strong as me

-green starts coming to planning sessions and the elite 4 generals dont take him serious or whatever then red is like okay go battle him

-green kicks their asses and earns their respect

-they do planning and training and all the while red and green are falling for each other but neither will admit it, cause they think the other just sees this as duty or whatever

-finally the battle comes rocket vs. everyone else

-it's going well until green gets hurt, like maybe he and red are joking around on the battlefield some cause it's easy and they're kinda having fun and flirting a bit, but then someone sneaks and stabs green or whatever

-one of the elite 4 take green away to medics and red goes feral (think achilles) he beats giovanni for good

-all of the allies meet up to divvy up rocket's territories, and green is like hanging on by a thread or whatever and his grandfather is like who cares he only exists to further Oakland's control

-red is pissed threatening to wage ware against oakland

-daisy ends up finding out green is hurt and immediately comes to pallet to see him (cause she actually loves her brother) and that calms red down

-red's mom ends up somehow getting oak to step down as king and daisy becomes queen

-green gets better and red's like hey i know you don't love me and were just forced into this by your grandfather so here is this country called Viridian it's yours youre the king now

-and before green can be like wait im in love with you too, red fucks off to mt. silver (cause of course right)

-green is devastated, red is devastated

-the story is over... or is it???

-it isn't obviously, cause bunny has to have her happy ending cause real life sucks ass so fantasy has to be great in the end

-prince gold from johto makes friends with green, hears the story, and how technically green and red are 100% still married

-so he and his merry band of mischief makers (silver, lyra, kris) go on a journey to bring red down

-they make up some story about green being in trouble

-red obviously rushes down the mountain to save green, but like green's just hanging out in his castle bored as hell playing spoons with alakazam or something

-he see's red and rushes to him and they embrace and kiss

-and green's like i can't stand it i'm in love with you and red's like oh shit me too

-then they merge viridian and pallet and have a second more fun wedding where it's happy instead of an arranged thing

-and they live happily ever after

#two princes au #like that one song from the 90s #did this one make sense #eh who cares it was stuck in my head #reguri #nameless shipping #namelessshipping #idk if i want it as original or nameless #like you could have fun with the gym leaders being leaders of different countries #so like everyone evil in the manga is evil in the story #but i also like big buff stoic red as a prince #but i love pokespe red too #maybe someone write one of each #a good writer (so obviously not me lol) could get a whole big ass story out of this #originalshipping #thanks for putting up with my bullshit team!

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lowkeycasanova · 2 years

Text

tatted

plot: you finally get your first tattoo

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

The idea of a tattoo had been on your mind forever. But in reality, you weren't too sure if you wanted one. Second guessing yourself with thoughts like, "Do I really want this?" and "What if it doesn't come out right?"

Ultimately you decided, fuck it, you were gonna do it.

When you told Vinnie, his eyes lit up. He was so excited for you, obviously.

You told him that you had been looking around at different parlors but there was no way he was letting you go to some random place. He insisted that you go to Arbel, the woman that has done all of his ink since he loved to LA.

He helped you get an appointment with her. She was booked up for the next two months and usually people had to submit a form when they want to book with her. But because Vinnie was a frequent client and friend, she made an exception. Perks.

In two days, you'd be getting your tattoo. Vinnie was enthusiastic, showing you different ideas but you had to remind him that you were getting one thing. One small thing.

"The only thing I'm concerned about is how much it would hurt." you told him.

He shrugged. "It depends on location and how high your pain tolerance is. Like this," he grabbed a mechanical pencil and gestured for you to give him your hand. He pressed the lead down like he was drawing.

"That's so uncomfortable." you retracted.

"It may not feel like that but it gives you an idea."

The afternoon of your appointment, Vinnie ushered you to the couch inside the warehouse as that's where it would be taking place.

"I can't believe you're just now getting some ink."

You got comfortable in your seat. " Well it would've been sooner if I could have made up my mind."

Arbel set up her equipment and smiled to herself as she listen to you and Vinnie talk.

"So what are you getting today?" she asked and put on her black gloves.

You showed her the picture saved in your camera roll. A small black diamond on the underside of the wrist.

"That's cute!" she exclaimed. "I like you. You make things easy for me unlike your boyfriend."

Vinnie rolls his eyes and scoffs.

You turn to lay your head on the arm of the couch while Arbel brings her chair over to you. Vinnie has a huge smile on his face.

She sanitizes the area and does the outline all until she pulls out the gun with the permanent ink. That's when the nerves start to kick in.

Like oh shit, this is really happening.

Vinnie hovers over you on the other side of the couch. "Do you wanna hold-"

You nodded without hesitating and grab his hand. Every so often, he'd give you a reassuring squeeze.

You look over at your wrist, watching Arbel being very focused. Then she noticed you watching.

"You know, most people tend to look away."

"It's actually not as bad as I thought."

"You're doing great." Vinnie chimes in.

When she finishes, you quickly look at her work. She did so good, looks just like the picture.

"Oh my god!" you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. Vinnie is amused by your reaction. "It's great!" You nearly put your wrist in his face so he can get a better look.

Arbel then puts a sterile bandage around it. It creates an occlusive seal, so no air gets in and out. And makes sure that the temperature on the skin stays constant so it doesn't create a breeding ground for bacteria. Ultimately, protecting the tattoo while it's still fresh.

"Oh fuck, now I have to tell my mom."

"You didn't tell her you were getting a tattoo?!" Vinnie questions.

You shake your head.

"Oohh you're gonna be in trouble."

"Why don't we call your mom?"

He laughs. "My mom already knows about mine. She doesn't care...anymore."

"I meant we can tell her about mine."

"Stop stalling. I dare you to Facetime your mom right now."

He was right. Might as well get it over with.

You pull your phone out your back pocket and call her. But hoping that she's at work and can't talk. Nope.

"Hey mom."

"Hi Y/N, how are you?"

"I'm good, I wanted to show you something."

"Alright."

You hesitate for a moment just giving her a smile and she looks confused. "Stay calm, okay?"

"Don't make me nervous now. It's nothing bad is it?"

"No." you laugh nervously.

You held up your wrist to the camera and she brought her face closer to the phone to see better.

"What did you do?" she asked, but the tone of her voice gave away that fact that she knew.

"It's real." you said, still holding it up and Vinnie, out of frame, caressed it with his fingers, which she could see on screen and you yanked your arm away. "Stop, it hurts."

Your mom sighed on the other end.

"Do you like it?" you asked, really curious.

"Yeah...it looks nice." she replied. You could tell she wanted to say more but held her tongue back. You were an adult after all.

"Now Vinnie," she started. "Don't influence her."

"Hey!" he blurt out in defense open-mouthed, wondering how in the hell she knew he was right there.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker blurb

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viperchick47 · 1 year

Text

I know I literally just posted about it, but I can't get the idea to shut up enough to move onto anything else so, here. Just a little blurb my mind squeezed out on my phone. Not edited or anything. Cвет is "Light" in Russian, at least according to Google Translate. Correct me if it's wrong. I haven't written anything since "The Sun Sets in the West", go easy I beg of thee.

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

Mine

What? Mine?

MINE

What the hell is going on?

My Cвет

No... no it can't be he was-

"Buck? You ok?"

His head shot over to his friend, staring at him wide eyed for a second before schooling his features.

"Where-uh... where did you said you found her again?" It took a second for Bucky to get his head on straight enough to talk again.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "Uh... Somewhere outside of Moscow. Nat found coordinates to another Hydra base-"

No, no no no

Ok, what the hell

"Hidden in a forest. Ended up not being many there, just a dozen or so agents and her. Regonize her?"

"No, don't think so. You said outside of Moscow though?"

DON'T!

"Yeah, something special about the place?"

Not a word, don't say a word. If you tell them and she gets hurt-

"Um n-no nothing too special about it. Just a place they send failed test subjects they refuse to kill. Thought it was abandoned." What was he saying? Why was he lying to them, to Steve of all people!

Good

Steve slowly nodded, then looked back towards Bruce and the others, "We didn't find any files there. Not even a name for her."

"We should do a detailed blood test. See if we can tell what they may have done to her." Bruce had said while he went to one of the shelving units to get items to draw blood. "May not hurt as well to do an x-ray of her body, maybe an MRI and-"

The echo of crunching metal caught the rooms attention. "NO"

All eyes were looking in Bucky's direction, wide with shock from the sudden sound.

"Hey Buck, you wanna let go of the cart and explain why not?"

He looked down to notice his metal hand gripping the cart Bruce was putting his tools on pratically destroyed. How- He was on the other side of the room, when did he walk next to this girl on the bed? And why did he suddenly feel so protective?

Bucky forced his metal arm out of the tangle of metal, grunting out "Just bloodwork, wait till she's awake for more tests. Easier on her mind" before storming out of the medical wing and into the courtyard.

That wasn't him, it couldn't have been. He had no idea who that woman was, never seen her before. Unless he did see her during his Winter Solider days. But then why didn't he remember her? Why did he feel like he had to keep her safe?

And why was he hearing a voice in his head again? It was him but it wasn't his voice. There's no way it could have been the solider, he was removed in Wakanda when they-

Still here, all your "friends" did was put me to sleep when removing the words. Keep them away from my Cвет.

Shit.

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vamqyr3 · 1 year

Text

↳ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY, KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK // CUCKY. ⨳

CW// CUCKOLD, NAME CALLING, MEAN GHOST, CHOKING, RESTRAINTS, OVERSTIMULATION, DEGRADATION, FEM!READER, DENIAL, SPIT, ECT.

NOTES// originally it was Soap, but I love Gaz so idrc. (Strap in, this one’s long, but it’s good, it took forever to write at least, I hope it’s good)

He’s crude, overbearing, crusted in self indulgence and salted with ego. All that confidence the mask gives him goes straight to the groin. Such an illusive man, glacial and cold cut. You almost felt bad for all the brunettes he’s lazily bagged. Capping off a night of 141 victory, drink and comradely with a half-assed bar fuck not even Soap would dare to degrade himself too. You almost felt bad, almost.

The untouchable ghost, it excited you just to share a room with the mythical mammoth, and Gaz hated it. He hated the flirting, the way he weaponized his strength and size. His morally grey proposition, cynical stare and sharp tongue. But more importantly the smiling, he hated the smiling. The school girl giggles that bubbled out sitting next to him at a bar top. Like Ghost could ever compare to him. Whatever it was, Gaz needed this pissing contest to draw its final match. Ghost can’t compare, but he would love to see him try.

He’s made some joke about a fish and a tank, never mind that your watching the shifts in light and cloth his mask makes mocking his lips. Laswell’s no doubt speaking in tongue with Price somewhere to the back of you two. Soap followed something moving in the way a woman does to a corner you don’t want to find. And while there’s some lesson there to be had about trust and stranger safety, you’re more vexed with the weight of Gaz’s eyes in your spine.

He’s no better a man to get jealous, but nonetheless Ghost is your teammate, you’re just being nice is all. How nice of you to entertain Ghost a while and leave the freaks of the bar aside.

“See, I would laugh but I’m afraid to make any sudden movements, Gaz back there’s trying to explode my mind,”

“Hurt you? He would never,”

“M’ not worried about me big guy,”

He’s moving his shoulders in some way that resembles a laugh, now looking at the glass bottles to the wall of the bar. There’s some static pull soaking into the click of your joints, alcohol greasing down the joints. He throws the last bit of his drink down and turns back to you, tension fermenting in the cracks of your skin.

For a while he says nothing, arm on the bar facing you in a black hood, he looks from you to the floor aside the bar then back to you. He’s waiting, thinking, weighing just how much he’s willing to pay for the action he so desperately wants to take.

Ghost shoots his chin to the back rooms, turns and leaves without looking back, you follow. Never mind Gaz.

He’s leading you past the entrance, dodging around the set of bathrooms to an empty storage room and turning to meet you face to face. Another set of footsteps follow behind yours. But the door closes fast behind, the light is quick to fade to black and Ghost is quick to to butt into you.

At some point in the dark the balaclava was pushed past to his nose, that much you could tell from the skin that met yours. Your fingers are carding through polyester fabrics, feeling up the man before you. Gaz would be furious if he saw, but he can’t, shit, even you can’t see. He’s making quick work of your inhibitions, every nudge of heat sends about another thought to hell. Ghost just got confused, ran into the wrong room and bumped into you trying to leave, promise. That’s all this is.

Who knew the mystery of a man to be so breathy? Who knew him to be so hunched and strained, leaving exasperated bites into your clothes, a dull ache in every bit of skin. The gape in your mouth is holding back hushed words, hoping the knock of your skull and door isn’t audible. He must’ve gotten lost, mistaken you for someone else, it’s easy for accidents like that to happen in the dark.

“Hello?”

His head snaps from the hush of your neck, looking to the door and quieting, a stalemate begins. No one dares move, a deer caught in headlights. Not a soul could’ve caught the two of you, the bar’s empty, secure enough for Laswell to talk shop freely. Music occupied the empty space between bodies.

The thing from outside is knocking, the hits connect on the back of your skull.

“Occupied mate,”

“Yeah, I know that, cunt, unlock the fuckin’ door,” Gaz is trying the handle, Ghost watches. He’s speaking through his gums, biting back on his anger and throwing himself into the door. “I swear to god bitch when I get this door open,”

“You’ll what? Huh? Last time I checked m’ the one in here,”

Gaz goes silent, standing behind the door, wordless. Ghost could never compete, but Gaz would love to see him try. He’s back at it, dipping back down into your neck, you get more vocal, hoping the audience outside would be throughly entertained.

“Babe,”

“Shut up Gaz,” you snap back a response, caring only for the man in front of you. The lower half of your spines curving back, twitching about in Ghosts hold as he’s smoothing a hand over the raw plush of your torso. Grabbing the meaty bit of it and rolling it in his hand. He’s groaning into your skin, rubbing his face over it, pressing his other palm into the connecting door and moving into you. You would love to see Ghost try too.

“Nothing to say, Gaz? Fuck, baby if he could see you right now,”

A smile goes unnoticed in the dark, you’re fisting handfuls of his collar urging him impossibly closer. He parts a divide in your leg with his thigh resting the end of it to the door. He’s a giant, manhandling you at will, at any point he could’ve snapped you in half without a second thought, but he hasn’t. A colder grasp now palms you over, the older one snaking lower to pull the bit of cloth around your hips down. Your skin welts under the friction and you roll into the brush.

He’s holding the waistband back and using the front of his hand to rub you over. Glazing over the skin that’s dribbled out, lazily handling your upper half. You’d wish he’d do more, free his cock and start getting off atop you, refusing your release. Tell Gaz how good of a fuck you were, call him names and screw you so good you’ll never want your man again. If you try hard enough you can hear Gaz breathing from behind the door, softer than yours. Ghost latches to your hips, steps back and motions his temple to the floor.

“On the floor,”

You slip down the door, the ends of your shirt gathering on the small of your back. You can hear Gaz following, resting on his knees, the shell of his ear and peachy palms on the opposing side. Ghost is back to rubbing, his hand tenting the clothing. Your face pleads words unspoken, brows making crude ditches along the lush underglaze of your head. Dribbles of spit smear down the cracks of your lip, you bite back in hopes to make it stop. You meet is touch into your meaty under half.

“Come on, baby tell him how good I’m fuckin’ you,”

Your mouth gapes open in hopes to answer, tongue lying flat to make way for sound. But he’s striking the air out, forcing way around your thick neck. Lumps and hiccups of words go off, Gaz presses farther to the door. You’re flailing under him, coughing and thrashing, tears and spotty sludge glissade down. Ghost dips down, elbow angling and licks at the stuff of your chin. Leaving snail trails of sticky alcohol traced thick in its place, sighing into it.

“Come on, poor thing you look a mess,”

“Ghost,” Gaz pleads.

He smacks the chunky underside of your thigh, muscle rippling under it, the hit audible over your own cry.

“Yeah, go on, baby tell him how good you’re about to take this dick, come on,” he’s scooting farther into you, pushing your legs father aside by the knee. You choke, unable to find the air to speak. You wish he’d let you suck him off, lick the bottom of him. Wish he’d rub it all over your face, laugh at the size comparison and leave dents in your puffy red neck. Ignore your gagging and wrangle you by the hair, get messy and spatter spit all over the floor for someone else to find.

He’s unlatched from your throat, moving the lower of his hand from your waist to face. He uses two fingers to jut at your cushioned lips, parting them and smoothing the spotted muscle of tongue. He hooks around the base of it, gritty stings line under his fingernails and you gag around violating things. He tastes as he smells, sour, salty and bitter. He’s absolutely delicious and the taste is lessening with every gag. His eyes never leave you once, neither of your hips have known freedom. Trapping you in place, forced to take his fingers and humiliation.

The skinny cut blue jeans are next to go, he’s twisting the buttons loose and sighing into the release of his cock. What little spit that’s left on his hand polishes off the head, a clicking sound follows the movement of his sticky fingers.

“Gaz,”

“Sir,”

“When I fuck your girl, don’t you dare touch yourself, understood?”

“Yes, of course, lieutenant,”

Gaz is barely to a whisper, wailing responses into the door, unintelligible and muffled. You strain to hear his puffy breathing, the needy sway of his hips into air, refused of the ability to get off to it all. He’s mashing into the door, grinding into empty space and contorted so the strain of his jean seam chokes the knot in his pants. His feet push off the ground, the opposite end of the pathetic man to the front of the doorframe.

“Dirty bitch, you want your commanding officer to fuck you? Yeah baby? Want him to hear me milking you dry? Huh?”

Your clothes bunch about your waist, he’s stroking himself over you, dipping into welt of slobber and slick in between your thighs. He’s toying with you, so much so you forget to respond, hoping the pressure of his tease would ease up.

“Answer, slut,” Ghost repeatedly taps at the side of your face, hand bouncing off the skin.

“Mhn,”

“Go on then, ask, beg your boy toy to let you take lieutenants big dick,” your sputtering something resembling his request, choking on air and high toned squeaks.

“Words, bitch, I won’t ask again,” and your finally following through with his command.

He’s holding himself by the base, smacking the rest on you. The connect is auditable, gluey slick ropes along the underside of him with every crude smack. Then he’s switching, rubbing the reddened folds of you over, up and down. Your spine curves over the door, angling into the spot where you two meet. Pressure squeezes over your hole, he’s feeling it up, poking into it and rocking back. With every connect your whining into a twitch, biting on dry air. His fat tips inching in you, the rest of him flashes with slick.

He wrings your shoulders, legs propped under your thighs as he’s cracking you open with his dick. He’s gaping into you, restraining you by the the top and staring down. Simon’s scraping down the sides of your innermost velvet walls, finding a fast rhythm. You thud back into the door, crying over his groans.

“Take it, fuckin’ whore,”

Gaz is gasping into the door, cheek making indents in the visible condensation from his open mouth breaths. He’s flatting into it, tongue warming up wet spots, the bottom half of him sticking up and out.

“Please, Ghost,”

“Please what, dumbfuck?”

“Fuck her, please, fuck her harder so I can hear, please,”

You could imagine he’s tilting the corners of his mouth up, raising his light colored brows and running through the best ways to ruin you in this position alone. He repositions over you, scoots his knees father up and lines back up to excitedly snap into you. The force alone knocks wind out of your throat, it gets caught around your chattering teeth and picks up noise. He never lets up, muttering condescending words and breathing in heavily between full body spasms. Taps between your thighs hit echos off the walls, creaking the hinges holding the door.

“Come on big girl, take it,”

Your stammering into his request, lost in the clumsy squelching noises and vibrating guttural growls the foremost front man gives off. The base of your head rolls back into the wall, cheek muscles tighten with the action, tears drizzle down your waterline. The doorknob jiggles with every collide, it falls into a melodic rhythm. If only Gaz could see you. His legs spread, bottom half naked to the eye and you on your pudgy tummy and knees, Ghost behind. With his cock spread on your face, looking down at your lips underneath him. Hands nowhere to be seen, Gaz has again been refused the right to remedy himself, forced to moan into the ghosting nudges your nose gives with every thrust from Simon.

“Atta girl,” He’s driving it hard into the swollen, full base of you. “That’s it, pretty,” elbows crease as he folds to press you back with his chest, shifting his weight to lay on top of you and focus his might to the creaking in his legs. Ghost is losing himself, spasming, slobbering, groaning and biting. Off white ringlets of pre collect on the base of him, it flashes in the snaps of light. You’re stuck between him and the wimpish man behind you. His cock kisses the root of you, disgustingly jumping between punching and disconnecting from the innermost parts.

Bits of you wail for him to let up, the pressure climbing is overwhelming. It’s too much, it’s all too much. You’re wailing and itching to push away from his stabs and digging chin, but his muscle collars your arms. With every ram his shoulder digs into tender purpled neck, choking the best of you out. Whats left of your breath is used for keening lust drunk groans. The blubbering that leaves you is even worse than Gaz and he’s not even allowed to get off.

Your dying, passing, moaning out your obituary and begging for life. He’s suffocating, the lodge of your throat laces strain in fatty muscle. You can taste the sex off of him, lap at the salt in the air and writhe in the baking rut of his aggravated stuffing. He’s laid claim to every nerve ending in your body and words in a language you have yet to understand tumble from your flattened, rippled mouth.

“S’ too much,”

“Awe, pretty girl look at you, gonna cry? Hm? Like your lil boyfriend out there? Huh? Like a little bitch?”

“M’ gonna, gonna,”

“Come on hurry up then, give him a show to jack off to later”

He's so intense, heat throbs in your head and beats down thought. You wanted to see the look on Gaz’s face right now. Watch his sad fucked eyes turn up and fog over. You wanted to watch him struggle to ignore the mound steaming want in his pants, beaten hands map the inside of his tense flaring thigh, flirting with the outline of his hard on. Have Ghost warm a spot on the floor with your bloated cheek, his veined hand pressing you by the back of your skull. Let him throw you into a headlock, ruin your hair in singlets, mash your face together with his forearm and collet spit in the depressions of skin. Ghost would force you to look at Gaz as you took him, refusing to continue if you stopped singing praises of how good he fucked as you looked him down. And you would love it.

You shook into your undoing and he laughed, chest heaving as he rocked you through your earth shattering high. Even as you peppered words of mercy, begging him to stop in spite of sensitivity, he chased his following orgasm at a newfound speed. Nerves and tendons fried in the baked white hot rash of his forceful bashing. Tears made your round face cool despite his merciless writhing. Flesh riveting in the rocking motion. He’s choking you under him, damn near forgetting his own sheer strength in his mindless rutting.

Simons a slave to the pleasure chasing snap of his hip, clapping noise of flesh on flesh. Groaning through the cracks in seamed teeth and full cheek, he’s dumping fatty bubbles of milky seed over your crotch. Your eyes strain to see the fluid twitch milking the full heavy drops out of him as he tenses in shock. You can only hear him breathing out shaky croaks, collecting his thoughts once more and lining his back up straight.

“Please open the door,”

#ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x you #mw2 #cod mw22 #call of duty

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bunchofdogstuff · 27 days

Text

A work in progress.

(( this is the first time I post something on tumblr... I hope it reaches someone! ))

(( Please let me know what you think! ))

It will start right at the North Pole.

Predictions from the distant past failed to calculate the exact point of impact, but modern technology has made things so, so easy… we can pinpoint the precise spot where the first lightning bolt will fall, even if we can’t do anything to stop it.

The sensors will go awry, the entire world will take notice for a moment. A lightning bolt? On a perfectly starry night? Where did it come from? Questions that will stall the minds of the brightest minds in the world, while disaster spreads through the ice fields, crawling so close to the floor, devouring everything on its way.

The Loathsome Mist will return, and with it, the shadows of the beings we stole this world from, so long ago that no one remembers anymore.

The Second Sacrifice will begin, and this time there’s no unlikely hero, no charitable soul to stop it as its core.

As time draws near to the end of the world, and all my attempts to stall it crumble to dust, I am faced with a choice.

I can either brave this alone, and pray to the stars that I find a solution like I did almost six hundred years ago… or I can submit, and seek his aid.

I’d rather die and take the whole world with me than having to talk with that pusillanimous buffoon again.

So I guess I am on my own.

Diary of Mustafá, the Witch. Entry Number 882.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

My heart is beating so hard, it feels like it could just jump straight out of my throat in any second now. My lungs are on fire, my neck and my arms hurt as I get up. I can feel my own blood flowing from my arm and falling on the floor, mixing with the magic flowing in the air. Green, purple, golden, red, I can’t distinguish them as they swirl and dance… and I can’t really stop and marvel at it. Not with this sense of impending doom on my back.

I try to get my bearings, after all I hit my head real hard on my fall down the stairs. The stairs! I am standing on the stairway of the apartment complex where I’ve lived for the last three years. It’s dark, pitch black in fact, and yet I can perfectly see my blood dripping and my favorite hoodie being ruined by it.

It’s a very small space, barely having any room for an extinguisher on every floor. Ah, that’s right, and I’ve seen several extinguishers already, so I must have gone down a few floors. I started on floor eight, and I am on floor…

With some of the blood on my fingers I paint the walll, illuminating some of it with the bright color of pure magic.

3rd Floor.

I fell five floors straight!? No way, I must have run a little at least… run… run from…

The sound of steps interrupts me. They are slow, calm, she’s getting closer. She knows I don’t have the physique to run nor the knowledge to somehow disappear myself. And yet I push myself to start trotting down the stairs again, no point in trying to hide from her!

As I go, I furiously tap on my phone, sending messages to the Fellowship. It’s not like any of them can help me now but, at least they can make sure to save whatever we can from the work before she takes it from my cold, dead hands.

xXxNoCookieLikeBIGCookiexXx: SHE’S CHASING ME, 82 IS CHASING ME.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: WHAT. OMG RUN, RUN!!!! O.o

jeepers creepers man: what do you mean “chasing you”???

xXxNoCookieLikeBIGCookiexXx: SHE’S CHASING ME, SHE APPEARED IN MY HOUSE AND IS NOW CHASING ME.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: TAVY-CHAN RUUUUN!!!

jeepers creepers man: ok ok, calm down, calm down.

jeepers creepers man: i assume you tried to talk to her and it went poorly

xXxNoCookieLikeBIGCookiexXx: CAN’T TALK RUNNING

jeepers creepers man: ok ok, fuck, hmmm…

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: I’M GONNA WAKE UP CANNY-KUN HE’LL KNOW WHAT TO DO

GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: shit shit SHIT I knew this was going to happen man

GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: she’s gonna come for us next guys you better get ready.

I don’t have time for this.

With a loud sigh I jam the phone in my pocket and stop running, panting, gasping for air and fighting for my life as I reach the door of the bottom floor. I didn’t even notice how her steps were no longer echoing in the stairway, I was just desperate to push that door and look for an exit.

Only to find her standing right there, a bored look on her face and her hand raised in my direction. The Alchemist was a head smaller than me, at least! But her tiny frame commanded a strange, powerful presence. Her skin was dark, darker than mine at least! But what really caught my attention from the very start were her eyes: unnaturally golden, wide awake and yet so dull, dead.

“End of the line, Octavia.” Her cold, emotionless voice makes me shiver. “Give me the book or I’ll take it from you.”

“C-Can’t we discuss this?”

“You don’t want a part in this game, kid. If this is the only way to make you understand, so be it.”

Green, purple and golden, the octarine light of magic, flowed through the Alchemist’s veins and straight to her hand. I have no idea what she has in mind but I do not want to just wait and figure that out. I raise my own hand, throwing it down as I jump back into the stairway. I may not be powerful enough to cast a proper fire, but I know how to make smoke.

"GOLTHOI!"

I don’t know why I yelled, it just felt appropriate. There’s a very small yet loud explosion, as if something had broken on the floor between us, and then a thick cloud of smoke expanded and covered the whole door. As I fall back, I can feel something brush past me, mere inches from my head. A ball of green light that breaks into pieces of glass on the wall behind me, surely aimed at my face before my little gambit.

This woman wants to kill me.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Oh I’d make it as hard as I could. As I ran back up the stairs without really thinking where I will hide from this crazed Alchemist, I can’t help but look back and wonder how I ended up here. To think that a few months ago I would have simply kneeled and submitted my life at the first chance to end it all…

And now here I am, running for my life, clinging to my backpack with all the strength I can muster and pushing my body far beyond its pathetic limits just so I can continue pushing my nose where it doesn’t belong.

Truly, the life of a translator really is non-stop excitement.

#writing #writeblr #writblr #creative writing #original writing #amwriting #urban fantasy

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skzhocomments · 5 months

Text

THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story!

---

Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

chapter word count: 1.1k words

"What the fuck is this?" the man screamed, while the tied girls on the floor let out muffled gasps.

The sound of the door opening forcefully could be heard loudly, but no one was able to see anything.

I started coughing up again when that bastard's grip was completely gone from my neck and air was suddenly getting into my lungs. However, my head was still feeling light and my whole body felt weak.

Was it the liquid he forced me to swallow? I wondered, and managed to turn myself on my left side, trying not to choke on my own blood.

"It's Dark in here!" a loud, familiar voice shouted, bringing a slight smile to my face.

A small pat on my back followed soon after, giving me all the reassurance I needed. I was not abandoned. They came, just as they promised they will.

I didn't get the chance to find out who patted my back that night. The lightness in my head was getting too strong, and I passed out just seconds after feeling relief that I was no longer alone.

"Argh. Turn off that light, would you?" I grunted as soon as I woke up between the four walls of the room that became my new home barely a week ago.

"Hello to you too, Shade. Feeling good?"

"No, Sky. If you're really curious, my head is fucking killing me. And I'm called Shade for a reason. So please draw the curtains and bring some shade back, will you?"

"No. Light is way better for you right now. Besides, look at the Sky for once."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"I'm glad you're awake though, everyone was starting to get worried. Especially Jeongin and Chris. And by the way, you look like shit. That guy really did a number on you, huh?" He chuckled and handed me a mirror, letting me examine the dark marks on my face and neck.

"Yea, seems like I really got a good beating."

"Disadvantages of speaking with no filter."

"You should know."

"Touché." He smiled and grabbed the mirror from my hands, giving me a glass of water and a small pill instead.

"Jeongin said to give this to you. For your headache, so you won't be a headache to the rest of us later."

"Thanks." I drank the medicine and handed Seungmin the empty glass.

"You should thank him personally. He was really distraught when he saw the state you were in. The fact that you slept for 5 full days didn't help too much either."

"Wait, I WHAT?" I asked, trying to stand up from the bed quickly, only to fall back down due to the immense pain in my temples.

"Wowowwo- Take it easy. I'll go let everyone know you woke up. Maybe take a shower and brush your teeth in the meantime, you stink."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. I'm off!" Seungmin waved and left the room.

I went to the dresser and examined myself once again in the big mirror. The bruises were looking even worse under artificial lighting. However, everything looked very well taken care of. My busted lip wore a small plaster that seemed carefully placed on; there was no blood on me; my arm, that I don't even know when or how I managed to hurt, was bandaged with the same care as my lip.

Seeing how good Jeongin took care of me made my heart sink and made tears slowly form into the corners of my eyes.

Just like San used to do. I thought, but quickly hopped in the shower and brushed the thought aside.

After showering, I slowly got dressed. My whole body was aching, but thankfully the pain in my temples stopped.

Thanks for the happy pill, Jeongin.

Walking back into the room, I was greeted by someone I didn't expect to see yet standing on my bed.

"Chris." Was all I could say before he got up and ran to me, taking me into a strong embrace.

He let go of me and looked at the bruises, brushing his fingers on each of them.

"fucking bastard" he muttered under his breath and caressed my face. "But don't worry, baby, I made him pay for daring to lay his fingers on you. In fact, I made sure to break each and every one of his fingers, one by one, for each small bruise you had. I counted them with Jeongin."

"He did great..." I pointed to the carefully bandaged arm.

"Mhm, he did. He's a very good doctor."

"So... what else happened to the guy?"

"Oh, yea. I... personally thanked him for bringing you to this state. I stumped on his arms, his legs, and I finally pulled a bullet through his head yesterday morning when I saw how pathetic he was begging me to let him die." He said with a dark smile. "And after he gave us all information we needed, of course."

Right, he's a mafia boss. I almost forgot that for a second.

"And the girls...?"

"They're safe now. These past few days you were asleep we managed to eradicate the whole Knife Devils. Might still be a few bastards hanging on, but we'll catch them in no time."

"Mhm." I nodded.

"Now to the more important things: how are you feeling?"

Chan closed the distance between us and pulled me in for a kiss, making my knees grow weak again.

"I thought we'd lose you for a second." He said in a low voice.

"But you didn't. I'm here."

"The bastard gave you some sort of drug – Jeongin was glad he found the flask on him, he managed to find a counter for the poison. But you still weren't waking up."

"Thank you for coming for me. I thought you'd left me there for a second." I confessed.

"I will never leave you." He said sternly, before kissing me again.

I gave into him completely, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue, feeling the ecstasy each of his kisses were bringing me.

~Present Day~

Looking back on it, I should've noticed that I was falling way too fast, way too hard, and that this strong urge to have him flushed over me like a tsunami would only drown me. I wanted more.

I should've known then how dangerous that was. I was oblivious that his kisses were poison. How couldn't I notice just by the euphoria they made me feel?

I should've known it was too good to be true.

But the sad thing is, even if I knew, it probably wouldn't have mattered. As long as it was him, I would've been happy to stay oblivious. I would've gladly drunk any poison.

I should've known then that he wouldn't do the same for me.

It was not poison that I was tasting on his kisses, but heartbreak.

I should've wanted less.

---

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

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tryanmybest · 9 months

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hey gang so you all know this post

you all enjoyed that other bullet fic-esque post i made so i have another one

wild west aziraphale and crowley:

crowley is drunk in a saloon when aziraphale arrives

the moment he walks through the doors, everyone just hears a slurred "AaNGeEL!" from across the room

aziraphale, startled and a bit concerned, advises that maybe crowley should sober up

"nahhh this is the whole fun 'round here 'ngel. watch."

and then he does some dumb shit that gets him into a fight with some big name cowboy

but through some impressive lying and fanangling and overly implying crowley says things that he doesn't

aziraphale ends up taking crowley's place for a duel

(that actually makes the bullet catch a bit funnier, actually. second time aziraphale's being shot at like this)

here's the kicker, though:

aziraphale doesn't want to SHOOT a man??? are you MAD?! hes an ANGEL for hell's sake

he's not going to endanger a human!

crowley sobers up enough to attempt to make a plan with aziraphale

in the end, aziraphale tells crowley that he's just going to miss on purpose!

and then do a miracle so he doesn't get hit, himself.

a draw! that's easy enough

"are you sure you can do a miracle while shooting a gun? takes a lot of focus for both, yknow"

"im quite aware of my own capabilities, thank you."

during the duel, things don't go exactly as planned

aziraphale, ever the angel, is going to follow the rules. 10 paces. then turn and shoot.

this cowboy does not give a fuck and he turns on pace 5 and shoots

crowley's "AZIRAPHALE!" rings through the crowd as aziraphale gets hit in the back

he runs and all but slides to the ground next to aziraphale

the cowboy loads his gun again but crowley gives one SNAP in his direction and he's GONE.

he turns into a cactus, he disappears, he literally dies, i don't know but he's OUT OF THE PICTURE

aziraphale isn't even hurt, actually, he's just shocked

"but... that's not fair!! that's cheating!"

crowley moves to miracle the wound but aziraphale stops him

there are humans watching. he can't just be healed immediately!! that would draw far too much attention, which they really don't need right now

crowley rolls his eyes, but gets another idea

cut to aziraphale playing dead in crowley's arms

crowley gives a very exaggerated "WELL! MY FRIEND IS DEAD! I MUST TAKE HIM TO THE BURIAL GROUNDS! CIAO!"

they get to a more hidden area. an abandoned building perhaps.

"outstanding performance, angel. five stars."

"yes, yes, now put me down. this is utterly humiliating."

"i dunno, angel, i think this is a good look for you."

"crowley."

he puts aziraphale down and aziraphale moves to miracle the wound

but the wound has already been fixed. as has the hole the bullet made in his coat.

he gives crowley a pleasantly surprised look

before he can give any compliments or praises though

crowley cuts him off with "i think i need a drink. you coming, angel?"

#good omens #good omens spoilers #bullet fic #ryans fic ideas #ryan wrytes!!#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale and crowley through the ages

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brick-a-doodle-do · 1 year

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holy shit? it's been a YEAR since i started posting my works. that is just. WOW. and i wrote this in the very same room i wrote my first fic in (which is more baffling to me because this room is a vacation spot for me)

anyway uh HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to company and repairs chapter one (and my first post ever)! guess what i did to honor it? I WROTE CHAPTER TWO :D

it's a very mundane chapter but it's still some content for this dead au :3 jskdfk

@smog-frog-0 hi it's been a year but here's another chapter :)) (i forget if you're still invested in this fandom 🙏)

(chapter one)

company and repairs ii

words: 2178

cw: swearing, slight panic, description of injury

—–—

What was there to talk about?

The question hung heavy in Wilbur’s mind, especially after Tommy’s promise of a conversation had been cut short when he was called away by the other giant.

Tommy had set him down onto the forest floor and hurried off to accommodate whoever it was, meanwhile leaving Wilbur to wallow with his wounded arm and the settling guilt of ever setting foot on a boat.

He had shuffled up by now, returning to a tree he was cowering against only a few prior moments. Now, though, he leans against it with some sort of relieving hope that his unusually easy acquaintance with Tommy would pose as an opportunity rather than a disadvantage.

Ranboo still stood feet away from the tree, holding the fluff of his tail between his spotted hands, lanky and sharp fingers digging into the fur. Wilbur tried not to make it obvious he was watching the creature, although the effort may have been less obscure than he had hoped; almost instantly, Ranboo’s fidgeting ceased and a narrowed set of pristine, mismatched eyes latched onto his own.

Wilbur tensed at the contact, offering up a blunt smile before trying to direct his attention away from the creature.

“I don’t mean to stare, sorry,” Wilbur murmured.

It came as a surprise to him that Ranboo responded, or responded as much as he could; a small vwoop! rattled in his throat.

Wilbur jumped at the sound, jolting a spasm through his arm. He glanced down at it, unamused at the inconvenience. He couldn’t exactly tell if it was broken. It felt like it, although the exterior of it felt relatively normal, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d simply sprained it.

It still hurts like hell, though.

Abruptly, the weight of the pain is buried to the back of his mind when Tommy’s voice stops becoming a muffled echo and becomes infinitely clearer. Wilbur looks up at the giant, who waves a dismissive hand as he steps out of wherever he had been. His tall, lanky shadow draws over the two of them the closer the giant gets, before he inevitably stops and crouches in the clearing. Wilbur stares up at Tommy, absentmindedly offering a “hello” as he does so.

“‘Ello,” Tommy greets as he shuffles his position and crosses his legs so he’s comfortably balanced. The blond’s ears twitch idly.

Wilbur itches to talk to fill in their gap of extending silence, but Tommy beats him to it. “So, your boat fucking sunk, huh?” The giant sounds amused, and Wilbur finds it to be an interrogating question.

Ignoring the needless attempt of what he only assumed to be the backbone of an unspoken question, he responds with, “It did. I was very irresponsible and it capsized,” Wilbur explains.

Tommy nods, no intrigue behind it. If anything, it’s a little bit dry of an action. Wilbur huffs. “Did you want to ask me a question, then?” he finally asks, looking up at the giant while fiddling with the stiff wrinkles in his trousers. Tommy seems a little taken aback at the question; his ears perk and an unhappy frown spikes the left of his lips up. Wilbur can’t help but grin at it.

“How’d you know?” Tommy asks.

“I can tell,” he replies.

Tommy hums, shrugging. “You’re smart for a human. Or are all of you smart? Or are the one’s I’ve seen just fucking stupid?”

Wilbur laughs softly. “I think it’s a mix of the two, it’s unpredictable. Now, go on, ask your question.”

“Well, it’s not really a question, more of a proposal,” Tommy starts. Wilbur’s gut churns, fixing his posture by straightening his back up against the tree trunk. Wilbur nods, quietly, letting him go on. “My brother, Techno—well he’s more like my uncle. Not really my dad and not really a brother, a tinge of a friend—you get it, you get it,” Tommy rants, his swaying tail kicking up dirt idly, “anyways, he basically just said that since your ship…y’know, ‘capsized’, or whatever you call your stupidity, he says that I should build you a new one.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “What?”

It was an intriguing offer, for sure, getting off of this island was of course one of the biggest priorities he had at the moment—that, and, fixing himself up—but, he couldn’t just accept an offer so vague. Something had to be off. Maybe a catch Tommy hasn’t explained yet.

“There’s always a catch, what is it?”

Tommy cocks his head to the side. “I don’t believe there is one. I mean, I’m really lonely here on this piss-poor island, apparently,— I mean personally I feel fine, joyous, one might say, but I guess I need a ‘friend’ or some shit. I don’t know what Techno’s on, but I think he’s just wantin’ to get rid of me. Guess he can’t handle my awesomeness, y’know?”

“So you want company? For you to repair my ship, you want my company?”

“I mean I don’t really want your company, you seem pretty pessimistic, my friend,” Tommy mumbles. “But Techno wants it for me, so yes, I think that might be what I’m saying. Glad we can come to an agreement!”

Wilbur swallows. “Can I think about it? At least give me that.”

“It’s rather urgent, I’d think,” Tommy says. He sounds hesitant. “And ayy, don’t you want your ship fixed?”

Tempting.

Wilbur rolls his eyes, what the hell. “It’s fine with me. I—yeah, whatever.”

Almost instantly, Tommy’s eyes light up. “Ohhh, pleasure doing business with you, my friend!” the giant exclaims. Wilbur winces at the volume but smiles all the same.

Glancing up at the sky, which has been overruled by a starry sky that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now, Wilbur’s exhaustion dawns on him.

Tommy seemingly notices too, cutting off Wilbur’s observation by clearing his throat as demandingly as possible. “D’ya really wanna sleep out here?” Tommy asks, wrinkling his nose to display his opinion.

“I don’t know what could’ve possibly given you that impression,” Wilbur deadpans.

“Well then, I’m sure Techno won’t mind if I give you a space somewhere inside. ‘Ya think you could handle livin’ in a fucking cave for a day or two?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur considers it. He knows he’ll be in proximity with Tommy, and Techno—who, to him, seems infinitely more intimidating with his startling build and gleaming red eyes. Plus…he’d be offering himself to be completely vulnerable. Though he's starting to notice a subtle breeze with the newfound night, and with hostile creatures like Ranboo, he wonders how likely he is to survive the night outside, let alone…however long it takes for Tommy’s end of the deal.

“Uhm,” Wilbur starts, his throat running dry. Both options are plausible, yet both entail nothing but danger. “I can try that,” he says, without really thinking. He knows he can backtrack, but phantom consequences are burned in the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to tempt fate.

There’s a tick of silence, one broken by his thick heartbeat.

“Well, you’re going to need to come here first,” Tommy urges.

“Why?”

Tommy sputters. “So I can take you inside? You’re not getting anywhere walking that slowly.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. He shuffles up, mindful of his arm while he slides up the trunk of the tree and steps forward. “You’re not touching me, I can walk fine,” Wilbur establishes.

Tommy throws his hands up defensively. “Fine, fine, you do you,” Tommy muttered, shuffling and standing to his feet. “Follow me. And don’t fuckin’ walk slowly, that’s annoying as shit,” he adds.

Wilbur rolls his eyes as Tommy sets off, turning on his heel and manoeuvring around the trees, careful to not uproot them. The idea troubles Wilbur, who struggles to keep up with how quickly Tommy was guiding him, even though he’d recognized that Tommy’s speed didn’t match his normal potential.

They walked for a moment in silence, Tommy’s footsteps—which shook the ground under him, forcing his balance off—being the only consistency in the quiet night. That, and, the thump! thump! of his heart.

After a few minutes of walking, most of which had been him catching up to Tommy, (who had already arrived at the opening in the mountain and was leaning against it with a smug smile as he watched the human travel) he finally arrived. The tan colour of Tommy’s ragged pant legs and the brown-and-orange fluff of Tommy’s tail obscured most of his view as he followed the giant inside, but from what he could see, the home was barely below an average getup he’d seen back at home. An everyday run-of-the-mill place, with furniture that was as good as it could’ve been.

It was nice, and Wilbur could certainly feel the aspect of home.

Tommy quickened his pace, which Wilbur took as his cue to stop short in his tracks. He looked around, craning his neck to get a view at everything, some towering miles above him. He shuddered at the fact that he felt just as intimidated by a couch as he did Tommy or Techno.

After reappearing from a room he’d disappeared into, Tommy crosses over the house with a bundle of things in his arms. Wilbur watches intently as Tommy ducks by the couch and shuffles things around.

Soon after, Tommy peaks his head out from the door and finds Wilbur on the sea of flooring.

“Hey, there’s—well I can’t really call it a bed ‘cause it looks like shit, but there’s something on the couch that’ll be better than nothing. And I’ll be in my room, so I won’t grab you or anything.”

Wilbur ignores Tommy’s attempt at a joke, which supplies a thought he doesn’t like the abrupt ending of. He nods, watching Tommy bid him a quick goodnight before shutting his door, leaving it open a crack. He squints at it– who sleeps with their door open? Before he can dwell on it too hard, he hears as Tommy’s footsteps halt and there’s a faint whine from the bed, telling Wilbur he can probably go ahead and find whatever Tommy had set up for him.

As he walked, he listened. It was relatively quiet, although he could hear the ruffle of trees outside and the muffled sounds of shuffling. Every little noise startled him. He knew he could leave if he so pleased—Tommy couldn’t do anything about it (he’s relatively sure of that matter, he doesn’t exactly want to test it), but he wanted to do things right, or as right as he could do some things, so his ship could be repaired. He knows this’ll be a miserable experience, but hopefully it’ll be worth it. Besides, he’s already learnt his lesson: don’t sail overseas with no sailing knowledge, you’ll end up on a giant-inhabited island!

Wilbur laughs to himself, he finds his struggle amusing. He would if he weren’t himself.

He curves around the edge of the couch, out to the front where he sees the edge of a blanket dangling over the edge, which leads up to a mound of a combination of pillows and blankets. Wilbur had expected something, but he hadn’t expected such hospitality for such a shitty stay.

Ignoring that matter, he tugs on the edge of the blanket (ignoring the way he smiles as he recognizes it was planted by Tommy for him) and shifts his weight onto it. He yelps, falling just slightly. He lacked the strength for this. After a few more shot attempts, he finally gets a good grip on it. He aims for higher, slipping just barely before regaining his balance and pulling with what strength he could muster. Wilbur would absolutely not let a blanket defeat him.

The fall-and-catch-himself routine repeated for what dragged on for aeons in his head, and by the time he’d finally thrown himself onto an even surface, his arms were screaming in relief at the feeling of not having to support his weight while climbing an unreliable material. He flexed his fingers, the phantom feeling of digging them into the blanket still burned into his muscles.

He lays on his stomach for a few passing moments, which he uses to catch his breath.

It’s uncanny how motivating a simple ship was, but it managed to get him through most of the climb…most of his walk, most of his fear…he just wanted to go home. Be with his father despite how much he knows he’ll be laughed at if he ever told his unfortunate story. He knows that Puffy would chew him out if he came home with a different ship, but it felt satisfying just thinking of being home, on land that he knows isn’t infested with giants.

Carefully getting up, his arms tensing as he uses them to shift his position so he’s resting on his side, against a sleek pillow. His fingers barely tighten around a blanket and he pulls it over himself, eyes hung heavy. He couldn’t say he was tired, he was just simply exhausted in a way that he was over it.

—–—

#mw #brickfic #company and repairs au #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #t!wilbur #t!ranboo #g!tommy #implied g!techno #aghh happy one year anniversary to my first post #that is just BAFFLING to me #i've been here since sep 2021 which is also INSANE but i've been consistently writing for a year now #which doesn't SEEM all that big of a deal but tbh i've done a lot in the past year!!!

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