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ew-selfish-art · 8 months

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Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.

… heads up that this got long...

Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?

“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.

“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.

“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.

“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“

“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.

They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.

Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.

——

The first time it happened was months ago.

He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.

“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.

“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.

The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.

“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.

“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.

“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.

“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.

“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.

"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"

Jason scoffs.

"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.

"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"

"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.

"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.

Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?

____

The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?

"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.

He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.

"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"

"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.

"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!

"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."

"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"

"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.

Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.

"Thanks." He grits out.

"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.

"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"

"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."

"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.

"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."

"What do you do for fun?" She asks.

"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."

"Yeah? What genres?"

"Classics." He can admit only that much.

"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."

"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.

"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"

"...How so?"

"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"

"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.

"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."

"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.

"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.

They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.

----

Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.

...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???

----

He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.

"Is that-"

"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."

"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.

"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"

"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.

"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"

"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.

Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?

----

"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.

"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.

"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.

"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."

"I didn't start any of this-"

"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"

Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.

He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.

"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"

"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.

"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.

"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.

"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.

"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"

"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.

"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"

Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jasonxjazz #jazz x jason #long post #phanfic #jazz fenton

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3rachasdomesticbanana · 1 month

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FaceTime | Han Jisung

Synopsis: A long distance relationship is never easy. It's even harder when there's a time difference and you're both busy. Sometimes, a FaceTime call whenever you can is all you two have.

Pairing: Idol boyfriend Han x Female Reader

Content Includes: Fluff, Smut, Mutual masturbation, Long distance relationship, Strong language, Voyeurism, Brief mention of Lee Know

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

To say your day was long would be an understatement. It was a little past midnight when you were finally able to lay your worn out body down in bed. A double shift at the campus library and then from there you had to go to your night classes. Trying to focus on psychology and sociology while running on fumes is never a good idea. Nothing the professor said stuck with you, thankfully though you've got a good friend in the same classes who offered to let you borrow her notes. Now at home you look forward to the feel of your head hitting the pillow. With a loud stretch you fall back into the fluffy white down comforter and close your eyes. Just as you barely nod off the sound of your phone jolts you out of that place that's somewhere between slumber and alertness.

“Mm, hello?” You answer without looking at your phone.

“Baby, where are you?” The sound of your boyfriend's voice wakes you up.

You didn't think you'd hear from him tonight. He's been so busy preparing for the release of their new album with the boy's back in Seoul, that the two of you have barely spoken on the phone. It's all been texts and photos that keeps you both going. Eyes wide you look at your phone and you see his face looking into the camera cutely trying to see you through the darkness of your bedroom.

“One sec, Hannie. Ouch… oof.” Sounds of your quiet struggles as you try to flick on the dim light by your bed makes him chuckle and when you come into focus on his screen his eyes light up.

“There's my sweetie. Sheesh, even with messy hair you look so damn beautiful.” He sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “I miss you jagi.”

You cheeks warm at his words and you run your fingers through your hair trying to get control of the bed head your pillow gave you. He looks so good right now and you fall in love all over again as usual. Make up free, in a white t-shirt sitting in the living room of his apartment and looking like he's just fresh out of the shower makes you wish that you were cuddled up beside him watching something on tv together before bed like you both would do.

“I miss you too baby” You tell him and an unsuspected yawn escapes at the end of your words.

“Did I wake you my love?” He asks, his brows go up watching you as you yawn again and rub your eyes.

“No, no. It's okay baby. I wasn't sleep, besides I wanna hear about your day.” You reply groggily.

After a few more reassuring words from you he finally tells you about his schedule and every little detail he can remember just like you like. It makes you feel like you're there with him when he goes through his day no matter how mundane or ordinary it may seem. You love it and you love listening to him talk. Laying back against the headboard of your bed you listen intently to his words. You're paying so much attention that you notice how his cheeks have gone pink and he swallows more frequently. It occurs to you just exactly what has him acting strange when his eyes flick down more and more and he licks his lips.

The strap of your black tank top has slipped down your arm so much while you listened to him that one of your breasts was exposed more than usual and the angle that you held your phone not only gave him a great view of your chest but the top of your thighs as well. A smirk grows on your face and he groans.

“Don't look at me like that while looking like that! I'm hanging on by a thread baby.” He whines and you giggle, throwing your head back and he groans again.

“What if you let that thread snap babe hm?” Your tone dips and becomes softer, more seductive and he does that thing with his tongue that you like. It's an unconscious move to him now, his tongue flashes out very briefly at the corner of his mouth and he smiles.

“I would love to sweetie but Minho is sleeping in my room right now. He didn't want to leave after dinner.” He pouts and looks over his shoulder in the direction of where his room is.

“Do it right there then.” His eyes go round and you laugh. “It's not like we haven't done anything right where you're sitting before.” You slip a finger on either side of the thin straps of the tank and slide it down even more until you're bare from the waist up.

“Shit.” He whispers at the sight of your full breasts and looks around the room again. “Yeah okay baby. You wanna play, then we'll play.” He agrees. You smile wide and slouch down comfortably, watching him as he shimmies his shorts down one handed biting down on his bottom lip.

“Set me down on the coffee table in front of you please baby? Prop the phone up with something.” You ask him quietly. He curses softly and after a few attempts he's got the phone in a position where you can see every inch and every vein of his cock. “Oh god baby you're so hard. Stroke it for me. Just like I stroke you.”

He shivers at your words and he wraps his fingers around the base loosely. Very slow he drags his hand up and over the head of his cock and repeats the same move. The black polish on his nails shine, catching the light from the tv in front of him. Spreading his legs wider, he pushes his hips up, thrusting himself into his hand and his needy eyes meet your hungry ones.

“Let me see you baby. Show me what I'm missing.” You smirk and finish undressing, removing your black shorts. It never takes Jisung long to take over and become dominant when he's hasn't fucked you in so long. And it's been over two months now. How you both last this long without each other's touch is a miracle but it makes moments like this more intense. “That's my baby. Fuck look at that pussy, mm. Shit I miss her.”

"More than you miss me Ji?" You whine with a faux pout.

"Never lovely. I miss all of you." He groans and thrusts into his fists. "Your lips especially, both sets." He adds with a wicked, sexy grin. It makes you moan he can see just how aroused you are.

The request you made of him is now null and void. He's gone from slow lazy long strokes to short harsh and rough movements. With his airpod in his ear he doesn't have to go above a whisper in order for you to hear him and since your roommate is away visiting family you don't have to worry about keeping quiet, which is often difficult for you to do once you and jisung get started.

Watching him always turned you on even if you were both in the same room. You just love watching his hands twist and pull as he pleases himself. The first time you asked, you told him it was for “Research.” that you wanted to see exactly what he liked so you could do it just like that to him. While that was part truth, you simply loved watching him jerk himself into a crazed and frenzied mess.

“Two fingers for me, lovely. I want to see you begging to cum. Oh, fuck. Its been too long, my dick is so damn hard right now.” Jisung keeps his eyes on you watching you do just as he instructed.

When you slip your middle and ring finger inside of your tight wet cunt he grunts and thrusts up into his tight fist as if he was ramming his cock inside of you. You let out a moan and begin to move your fingers rubbing at your silk walls, matching the rhythm that he uses on himself. He loves it when you do that. If he slows down you do too and if he picks up his pace, pumping his cock harder and faster, you do the same. It drives him almost over the edge because of the unspoken way you keep in sync. It's almost like he's there with you, teasing you, pushing you to the brink and stopping, like now. Your eyes roll back in your head and your legs tremble while you force yourself to keep them open so he can see everything you do to yourself.

“Good girl, sweetie. Don't move, yet. Ah…” He shudders, edging you both with thousands of miles between you.

Your head drops back down looking into his face. His dark wavy hair sticks to his clamy forehead and your fingers itch to push the strands away. You watch his chest heave up and down with each deep inhale and exhale. Your eyes move, traveling down to the hold he's got on his cock, you watch the tip leak precum. Practically salivating, missing the sweet and salty taste of his cum you lick your lips and love how it twitches for you.

Jisung takes his thumb and rubs the clear fluid of his pre cum over the head of his swollen length slowly, knowing you'll rub your clit exactly like that. Moans and whining fills your room echoing off the bare walls that you never got around to decorating. The sensation is almost too much and it becomes overwhelming as you feel yourself close to cumming.

“Ji-Jisung, oh god, oh fuck. I’m close baby. Please.” You beg and that's all he needed to hear. He's fucking his hand faster, huffing and groaning softly so that no one hears him from inside their rooms.

“Cum for me then baby. Let go and cum. Just keep your eyes on me.” He whispers harshly and you snap your eyes open.

You haven't even realized you shut them through the intense wave of pleasure. Your eyes catch a figure in the shadows behind Jisung, head to toe in black with their slim muscular arms crossed and eyes burning into you smiling. It feels too good to stop and warn your boyfriend that you two have been caught. You can feel it unraveling away inside of you, your orgasm is too close. Looking away from the shadow who you can only guess belonged to Minho and back to your boyfriend you come undone.

“Suh… so good mm! God I wish you were inside me, fucking me like your fucking your hand Sungie.” A strangled gasp sounding lost between a scream and a moan rips through you. “Fuck baby, I'm cumming!”

“Just. Like. That!” He grunts with each word, moving faster than you. The sound of you gasping and moaning gets him to his own climax. It's strong and intense making him shake all over and squeeze his eyes shut. Lifting his shirt up with one hand, biting the end to muffle his own wild moans, he cums hard onto his abs making them glisten with his release.

When you look behind him again the person is gone and you're not even sure if you truly saw someone or the intensity of your video call sex made you hallucinate. Jisung lifts his shirt up and over his head and cleans himself up using it with shaky hands. Rolling over onto your stomach you wipe your hand on your towel and then between your legs still panting quietly.

"Shit naekkeo, even watching you do that is sexy. Gonna make me hard again." He licks his lips and you laugh.

"I'll be there next week. Think you can wait for me until then?" You ask him breathlessly.

Tossing the towel into the hamper you pull your blankets up and over your body and lay down on your side. Jisung chuckles and reluctantly agrees pulling his shorts back up and grabbing his phone off the coffee table. He looks at you fondly with a calm relaxed smile as your eyelids grow heavy.

"I'd wait a lifetime for you my love." He whispers. "Sleep gorgeous I'll stay here until you're asleep."

You nod, closing your eyes and smile, feeling sleep take over before you can even respond with a goodnight.

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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Okay this idea has been rotting my brain all night and i need to get it out; i may turn this into a full fic (there’s so much more to eddie and how he died), but here’s some paranormal romance steddie! (with a nod to the @azrielgreen -verse at the end 😉)

edit: i've started posting the full fic! on tumblr | on AO3

—

imagine ghost!eddie haunting the estate that was built overtop where his trailer had been

ghost!eddie becoming corporeal(ish) every halloween, letting his rage fuel the poltergeist rumors at the old estate.

the forest hills estate sits empty since being completed, until Steve Harrington moves in from Indianapolis.

Steve Harrington who uses the inheritance from his grandfather to fix up the old place, not knowing the rumors, the stories, that have been floating around the last nearly 40 years.

Steve, who ends up learning about them from a pack of young teens riding by the front gate on their bikes.

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says the red head.

“Language!” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly, greasy looking one. “And no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets are open every morning when I wake up?” he asks. And they really had been, he kinda figured that there was something going on in that house but hadn’t felt threatened by whatever presence was there.

He relishes in their spooked faces.

“A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it soon after.” the one with the high top fade said earnestly.

“Allegedly, Lucas! Allegedly!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “He always thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“He could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the gangly one snarks at his friend.

“It’s not likely, handwriting forensics concluded it to be her handwriting.” oof, this kid desperately needs a haircut.

“POINT IS.” the red head yells over the boys. It must’ve been a regular occurrence though, as they all fall silent (or silent enough while still bickering). She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods, “Yep!”

So he does, picks up some retro vinyl to play (along with playing some tracks from his phone over his speaker while he works on the house), figuring if the guy died in the 80s, he’d probably like the sound of them better.

He plays the music, finds he likes some of it, talks to this mystery ghost as he goes about the house finishing projects. Throws some classic rock on sometimes too, saying “Hey ghost man, I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this much metal at a time. Hope Zepplin is okay.”

ghost!eddie who will always use some of his ghostly persuasion over things to spin the vinyl backwards on the turntable during ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

Steve, who does some research and learns about his supposed ghost, yells in greeting as soon as he’s back from the library, “Hi, Eddie!! I’m home!” reveling in the swirls of cold air that spin around him in response along with just a ghost (hah) of a whispered “Hi, Stevie..” in his ear.

Steve and Eddie, who get closer and closer over the months, learning anything and everything about one another. Steve goes through a lot of paper in the first couple weeks, asking a question and waiting for the paper with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ written on it to flutter in an unseen breeze. Which paper scribbled with a different color marker to fly up into his lap (Eddie’s favorite color is blue, Steve tells him his is yellow).

Steve, beginning to see the shadow of another person in the corner of his eye more often the not as the summer winds into fall and the repairs he needed done are wrapping up.

By September there’s no denying the figure he sees reaching a hand out to flick up the answer to a question, or the laughter he hears coming from it after a particularly bad joke.

The shadow is Eddie; and Steve is starting to make out details about his ghost.

The long fluffy hair, the slim waist, the dark eyes that pierce through shadow against the slowly brightening skin beneath.

Eddie, who realizes Steve must be able to see him and starts staying away more often then not, afraid of what he’d see in that beautiful face when he’s finally his old boring self again. Can’t bear to see that disappointment on the face of this man he’s come to care so much for (read: fully crushing on).

He retreats fully by mid September, sticking to the far less quantifiable shadows in the house and between the walls.

Steve still tries, bless him. Leaves questions all over the place, hoping to see them answered. Eddie does, every night, wanting Steve to know he’s still here.

A week later, “Eddie, I know you can hear me, can you make sure to answer this one as soon as you can? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I figured we maybe show off our house—the house—now that everything’s done.”

‘Our house!! He said our house!!!’

Eddie looks at what his Steve left on the new kitchen counter that night.

“Halloween Party?” is scrawled on an open page of their now worn notebook.

Something hot floods his chest at that. Steve wanting to make sure he’s okay with that many people being here at once. Eddie knows damn well what the feeling is and he’s not about to waste his corporeal time this year, he’s going to do something with it besides wreaking havoc (on the house at least).

Halloween arrives, and many in the small town want a glimpse into the old estate. There are people everywhere, costumes and all.

Steve’s proud of all the hard work he’s done to the place but he still misses Eddie. Wishes he could be here to see what had become of the place he’d hated for so long. See it for real.

Halfway through the night is when it happens.

The party is in full swing, his ballroom full of people and music and food. His playlist changes over to Bowie.

Steve smiles to himself at the memory the song pulls forward. Still soon after learning about Eddie and staring their questions and answers thing, Steve had put on Labyrinth, laughing at how frantically the “i LOVED it!” paper had swirled around in the air after asking Eddie’s opinion.

A new face he hadn’t seen in the crowd before catches his eye. This man coming down the staircase is striking. Long, dark, curly hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, lean legs in off white pants, sparkling dark blue jacket, slim waist… He’s so gorgeous, so ethereal, he can’t be real.

Okay, nope, everyone else in the room is parting for this man. So, definitely real.

Steve stands as the man approaches, a hand extended. Keeping their eyes locked on each other, the man leads Steve by the hand to the center of the room.

The man smirks at Steve, still stunned, and arranges their arms. Then they’re dancing, swirling around the space the crowd created for them.

Steve feels like he’s floating.

He’s dancing to As The World Falls Down with a breathtaking man he now realizes is definitely dressed as the Jareth to his Sarah.

Steve finally finds his voice, “Hi..” It’s barely a whisper.

The man smirks, scoffs a laugh, but whispers back: “Hi Stevie.”

Steve’s brain screeches to a halt, and the man’s eyes sparkle with mischief (and a little bit of apprehension).

He can’t compute the information right away, frantically scrambling for a logical explanation. Some way for someone to know about Eddie enough to imitate him, to know about ‘Stevie’..but comes up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

“Eddie…is that really you?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s really me.”

Eddie brings their foreheads together and they sway to the rest of the song, Eddie softly singing along.

The song ends and Steve pulls Eddie through the crowd and out into the garden.

His mind is still swirling, so he clings onto Eddie’s arms just as much as Eddie clings to his.

“Eddie—“

“Wait, Steve, let me..” Eddie clears his throat and explains everything. How he died, how long he spent his one night of reality trying to keep people away from where he and his best friend had died. “I don’t want to waste tonight, but I’m afraid if I—if I tell you how I feel about you…I will be complete. Done with my unfinished business and all that.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie chuckles. “The Moon.”

Steve now fully, painfully aware of how little remains of the night, how little time he may have with Eddie altogether, decides he doesn’t have time to unpack that. So he says “Kiss me. Eddie, please, kiss m—“

Eddie does, and the Moon smiles down on her beloveds.

#can you tell that my first ghost love was casper #steddie #st flclet #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #paranormal #ghost!eddie #casper!eddie #paranormal romance #modern au #noelle writes

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ghoulangerlee · 5 months

Note

hm hm hm what about spread your legs baby from the prompt list with raindrop (they’re forever plaguing me) but another pairing also works if they make you more inspired :3

i've actually never written raindrop before so this will be my first time :) I won't bore you with background lore I've created for my version of Rain but he doesn't speak and I don't generally classify him as mute because of his nature (shark water ghoul). he typically communicates via the bond he has with the others and sometimes body language (he's very expressive).

for ref: rain also has non-human genitalia, though I don't really go into too much detail with this but, it's there :)

content warnings: biting and brief mention of blood, Rain is at the core of everything a predator and he does get a little in his head sometimes.

With a soft oof, Dew's pushed up against one of the walls in his bedroom, his head falling back as Rain's body cages him in, hands finding purchase on Rain's hips, dragging him in as close as he can.

"Yeah," Dew sighs out, baring his throat to the sting of Rain's teeth, he's not quite fully glamoured anymore, his claws leaving indents in the wall beside Dew's head, his teeth sharp and dangerous--his senses dialed up to the way Dew's pulse hammers heavily, his blood pumping hotly through his veins.

He smells divine, the mixture of Dew's arousal and his blood, just under the surface, just under where Rain's tongue is laving against the side of his throat and it drives Rain a bit crazy, it makes him want to bite until he's able to taste properly.

"Easy there, big guy," Dew says, a little breathless, and Rain realizes he'd been projecting his thoughts a little too far beyond his own mind--he'd been projecting them into Dew's as well, through their bond that's singing with both want and Rain's inherent need to have Dew right now.

He pulls back and for a moment, just mouths over Dew's pulse, a sort of apology, but not really, because seconds later, he introduces teeth again, nipping at the delicate skin until a bruise blooms; his teeth making small bloody indents.

Dew laughs softly, the sound turning into a low, rumbling purr as Rain continues to trail open mouthed, stinging kisses across his collarbone--there'll be marks later, visible, mouth shaped ones that may ooze a little bit of blood if Dew presses too hard, if his clothes rub against them accidentally, but he doesn't mind it--he's proud of the marks Rain leaves behind, the solid claim of his.

Can I?

Rain's voice is loud in his mind, a distortion of sorts and Dew laughs again, his hand leaving Rain's warm skin to grab at his wrist, pulling it down until he can shove it under his shirt, letting Rain's palm spread across the width of his ribs, "Baby, you're being so sweet tonight for someone who wants to mark me up until I'm oozing your scent," he coos, a gasp leaving his mouth when the sharp point of Rain's nails catch against his skin, "'m not going anywhere, you get me however you want me."

Rain noses just under the hinge of Dew's jaw, pressing a soft kiss there before working further up, nosing just under his ear, breathing heavily against his earlobe as he presses another kiss there, his teeth catching just barely as he pulls back to look Dew in the eye, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Oh?" Dew says to the silent question, "Are you going to have me here against the wall then?" he asks, wiggling enticingly under the weight of Rain's body, grinding his hard cock against Rain's thigh.

Rain just purses his lips and leans down to slot their mouths together as the fire ghoul clutches at him again, one hand going to his hair to hold him in place as they kiss.

Dew's tongue accidentally catches against one of Rain's sharp teeth, the taste of blood and brimstone blooming across Rain's senses, his mind going hazy for a moment as he chases it, licking into Dew's mouth, pressing him back into the wall.

Dew's hands push against Rain's shoulders after a few moments, biting at Rain's insistent tongue before turning his head away from the kiss, "Easy," he murmurs with a sigh as Rain mouths an apology against his jaw.

Bed?

Rain's voice once again echoes in Dew's mind and he grins down at him, his teeth sharp and dangerous looking and such a contrast to the somewhat shy look in Rain's eyes, like he hadn't almost lost control from just a small taste of blood. Dew just shakes his head, fond and entirely too in love with him to respond, using Rain's momentary distraction to worm his way away from the wall, pushing at the taller ghoul's shoulders until he's stepping backwards.

"Since you put such a nice image in my mind," Dew teases him, his hands dropping down to rest on Rain's hips again as he guides him backwards, further into the room and away from the wall and the door, all the while Rain burns images of what he wants to do to Dew and what he wants Dew to do to him in his mind.

"Insatiable," Dew murmurs when he's got Rain almost to the bed, backing him up until the backs of his knees are at the edge of the mattress, "You're really pulling out all the stops today, huh?" he asks, rhetorical, even as he can see the way Rain looks satisfied, like he's preening at getting to Dew so easily.

"Horrible," Dew says with no bite to it as he leans up to kiss Rain again, squeezing his waist tightly, projecting his own idea of finger shaped bruises across Rain's hips, telling a story to anyone who'd get a look at them, peeking up over the waist of whatever pants he chooses to wear.

Rain's teeth catch at Dew's lip this time, feeling frenzied for a whole different reason, but it doesn't break the skin, just makes Dew jerk against him and grind into his thigh.

"Enough, enough," Dew mumbles, slides both of his palms up Rain's stomach until they're resting over his chest, skin warm, his heart beating heavily, steadily under them before he pushes, hard, sending Rain sprawling back onto the bed.

And well, Rain is entirely too aroused to do anything other than lay there, stare up at Dew with heavy, glowing eyes as Dew strips his shirt off and unbuttons his jeans, waving a hand at him, "Come on, Rainy, get naked for me, let me see you," he says, wiggling his own jeans down over his hips, along with his underwear.

Rain's eyes are drawn to Dew's dick, curving up against his belly and his mouth waters as he stares, knows that he'd have to ditch the sharp teeth to get his mouth on Dew and thinks, somewhat deliriously that he's not sure he could glamour enough to get rid of his teeth right now.

"Chop, chop, babe," Dew says, breaking him from his thoughts and Rain's quick to scramble his own pants off, fumbling with the button and the zip and pushing them off, bare under them.

A whistle, low and teasing, "Look at you," Dew says as he steps forward to plant a knee on the foot of the bed, "Spread your legs, baby," he murmurs, eyes drawn to where the head of Rain's own cock, shiny with a pearly, translucent substance peeks out from between his slit.

Rain, unable to do anything other than obey does, delighting in the pleased smile on Dew's face, finally climbing onto the bed properly before he crowds his way between Rain's spread thighs.

"Think we should do that thing you mentioned earlier," Dew murmurs, settling back on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock to steady it as he leans forward, nudging the head of his cock against Rain's.

Almost immediately, Rain projects the image of Dew fucking into his slit, just the tip of his cock pushing past it, a tight fit with his own snug inside there already, barely peeking out whenever Dew pulls out just enough to thrust back in.

"Yeah," Dew says, breathless, "That one."

In his mind, Dew hears musical laughter and Rain's hands cupping the side of his face as he sits up a bit, pulling him into another, deep and all encompassing kiss.

#raindrop #the band ghost fic #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #part of me wants to mark this mature but i want it to be seen ):#so...yeah.#my writing

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 months

Text

Meet the Parents Part 2

Okay, once again, I rambled for too long and needed to do a second part. Sorry that this post is also coming delayed, real life stuff comes first.

Part 1 to be up to speed!

You know? Maybe it was for the best that the post got cut short, I realized of a small detail that didn't notice yesterday.

The sequence where this four frames are from last around a 1 or 2, I am not really doing this in any professional fashion so I cannot say the exact time; but it is pretty quick, even at half speed.

But you can see how for a moment, Gwen either realizes this is not going well, or drops the enthusiastic persona for a second. Either way, I think it shows that this is not going how she expected.

While Gwen hasn't heard enough to know it was a bad idea using their first names, I don't doubt that Miles talks about them fondly.

She got along well with May and Ben (I notice later that there are some flashbacks including Ben.) And that probably meant a lot to her because you can see how prevalent was the relationship between those families, eating together, talking, etc. Almost like a family.

I don't think Gwen would like to replace Peter and his family, but Miles is not a replacement of Peter anyways. She probably wanted meeting them (Even if I am sure she didn't want to have this meeting today,) would run a lot more smoother.

Because she knows Miles loves his parents, and they do sound like good people; she didn't even seem to think this could actually turn so awkward.

This moment just last a couple of seconds at best, so this goes fairly quickly.

And again, I am not saying this because I want to paint Miles' parents in a bad light; even if they are not giving a fair shot to Gwen, all things consider they are been extremely patient with Miles.

(I really need to do a post about that.)

Now going back to where we left it.

Oh this scene is so hard for me to see.

(Sorry, but DAMN the representation here; this didn't exactly happen to me, but similar enough that is giving me the most embarrassing flashbacks. No I am not saying this is an universal experience, just very painfully real to me.)

Okay, Miles' parents are being over protective here? Oh for sure.

While I think their actions are very logical and understandable once you remember they have no idea what Miles is doing; this is really the part where Rio and Jeff shows us they also need to mature in this movie.

And I don't say it as an insult; a lot of parents have trouble with this transition, and Miles is their first and only child; with said child suddenly not acting as the same kid anymore.

(Sidenote; I am surprised Miles doesn't have any siblings, Jeff and Rio look so in love I am surprised it didn't happen.)

I love how Gwen just takes her hand back, like "well damn I didn't even get a date with him and his parents already are telling me to back off."

Also oof, poor Miles. Honestly forget three months this is probably worse than that already.

Rio making that joke is painfully realistic and let's move on to the other part of that dialogue.

I think Rio and Jeff aren't just trying to establish some rules with Miles (considering the amount he has broken today,) but they also need to reaffirm themselves of being able to dictate what's going on Miles's life.

Again, this is coming just after they grounded him, and then he dipped out. They are feeling they are losing him.

I love Rio, I do, but ma'am this is how you get your kid to keep even more secrets for you.

Not much else to say here, this is the lesson she and Jeff need to learn. Miles is (probably) still hating being alive right now; and Gwen is somehow able to keep that composed face despite everything which has to be one of her most impressive feats in this film.

I honestly have to feel it for Gwen right now.

She probably knows the alert her watch is giving her is bad news, so she really doesn't have another choice.

Forget not making a good impression with Jeff and Rio, now she just lost her chance to have a decent goodbye with Miles.

At this point I don't think she would had admitted to herself this couldn't happen again, I think even now she hoped for another chance later down the line. But there is no idea to know when.

I have no idea what she would had said if she had the chance to say goodbye on her own terms, to his face; but it was certainly not what she ended up doing.

Girl, 3 years being spiderwoman and you can't still come up with good lies for situations like this?

Ok I cannot blame her for not being able to come with up with something better; this entire conversation was already not going well and now she basically needs to flee, which doesn't help.

Oof, look at Miles's face, he really looks so heartbroken here.

For all the awkwardness Gwen has sported during this conversation, this is among her most natural expressions; while she is probably not stranger for dipping early, I do think this is not how she wanted to leave.

Gwen really didn't want to leave, at least not leave Miles. While she couldn't really explain what was going on, I think she wanted to let him no that this isn't about his parents or him, she wouldn't be going out if she didn't have any other choice really.

Jeff hasn't really said much during this conversation, mostly having judgy stares at most, but you can see his expression become a bit more open once he sees Gwen's behaviour change.

Rio I think is trying to maintain a mask because she probably also caught on this looking a bit off, but also because is around here that she starts to realizing how much Gwen means to Miles.

I think is also around this point that Rio seemed to want to say something else.

She could just be trying to say goodbye, but I think her expression and her hand point out more than she actually wanted to intervene here.

I am pretty sure that regardless of how Jeff and Rio felt about Gwen, they didn't want to make her run away like that.

Because again, they are missing context; Gwen is leaving because the Spot flee and she just got herself into a mess, Miles knows this is related to spidey issues.

But as far as Jeff and Rio are concerned, this girl tried to be friendly (way too friendly for their liking but friendly nonetheless,) and is now running away after Rio decided to play Mother Hen.

(Sorry, that joke may not be understandable in english. Mama Gallina/Mother Hen is an expression used a lot in my country for moms that are very protective of their kids.)

Oh, this shot.

This is an interesting comparison because when Miles heard that Gwen was leaving, he looked so crestfallen; she could see it so did his parents but he didn't register the fact that it was so pain this was for him.

Gwen maintained a somewhat composed face to them, but on this shot that she is giving everyone the back, she looks so sad.

This, is basically their relationship in a nutshell. Miles wears his heart in his sleeve and can't help himself on it, and Gwen tries her hardest to keep her emotions at bay, but everything so often they creep back.

This is awkward, and it looks awkward, and this is really more into speculation territory than analysis, but I think she did it because she wanted to go for a hug, or similar.

I had mentioned in other posts how I believe Gwen is an affectionate person, or at least, someone who likes and seeks physical affection to those important to her.

The way she went to hug her dad both at the beginning and end show how much she craves affection; and how she barely contained herself before hugging Miles tells me not just that she probably has even less people to hug nowadays, but how much important he is to her.

But she probably doesn't want to upset his parents more, and his mom told her just a minute ago to basically leave Miles alone; so this was the best she could think of.

Nobody is really happy. Even Rio and Jeff are realizing how uncomfortable is Gwen; thought again, they are probably thinking this is all their fault.

This is really the moment when Rio and Jeff are probably realizing that whatever the heck is going on with Gwen and Miles, is important to them, or at least Miles.

Again, Jeff and Rio are worried, and they have no idea what Gwen's situation is, Miles mentioned she left town but they didn't even believe she existed prior this so they probably doesn't think that's case. Or even if it was, well, keeping contact can't be that hard in this day and age right?

(Sadly, Miles really needed to fall in love with a girl who to get in contact with you need technology from another timeline.)

Miles is 15, and they just met this girl, they couldn't imagine how much she matters to him, specially with all the secrets.

And here, is when Rio finally can let her own feelings aside for a moment, and see her actual son, and not the idea she has of him.

Of course, he is just staring at where she is at, no idea when he would see her again.

A part of me wonders, if he would had tried to go and say something else if his parents wouldn't had been here.

I really, do think Gwen wanted to say something else.

Now with all the context, it makes me so sad to see Gwen leave, and still have trouble to actually do so.

Because she knows this meeting wasn't suppose to happen, and she has no idea if she could ever repeat it or when. She has been so focused on Miles she completely neglected the mission, heck, she even neglected to keep an eye on the guy, which wasn't even so much of a fix for this situation.

You know? Something I kept thinking while analyzing this scene, is how is not just Miles struggling to keep a civial life and a spider life, Gwen is going to the same thing, or similar enough at least.

At this point, she has embraced the Spidey life, she literally has no other choice because she cannot go back home. Her life as Gwen Stacy was gone; being able to just be a carefree teen is left by the times she can be crashing at Hobbie's dimension, and even then, you see that is not enough.

In this sequence, she tries to go back to those patterns, like the camaraderie she had with May, or the jokes she probably shared with her dad's buddies.

But it doesn't go well, and her last moments with Miles were extremely awkward, and them discussing about the organization.

This all feels just like a bitter reminder, she can't be just a teen anymore.

Is a shame, because on the Clock Tower we basically confirm, that Miles was the only person that could make her feel that someone was seeing her for all her. To combine those two worlds she belonged.

But she can't have that now, just like she believes, she can't have Miles.

#ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #miles morales #atsv spoilers #rio morales #jeff morales #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #ghostflower files #will reblog this tomorrow to a decent hour lolol

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gerrystamour · 11 months

Text

here i have found some peace of mind [chapter four]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST ] [ PREVIOUS ]

The boys figure their nonsense out. I meant to say this in the last update, but I have bandcasted the band Green Lung as "Corroded Coffin" re: their sound and vibe? I have actually made a "setlist" as well! Also!! The transphobia introduced in chapter two is resolved in this chapter ;p CW: There is smut in this chapter! Phone sex to be specific!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

soon as the summer comes, i will step out of time

“Just call him,” Robin groaned, dragging her hands down her face dramatically.

“I can’t,” Steve insisted, picking at the muffin Robin gave him the moment he stepped into Dustin’s office.

It had been three days since Steve had watched the YouTube videos, and he was admittedly miserable.

That night, when it sunk in how Eddie felt for him, Steve had texted Robin, not wanting to interrupt her if she was busy with Nancy.

Steve [sent at 05:02]: u busy? Robbie [sent at 05:03]: dude, we’re getting ready for work. did u even sleep?

Steve hadn’t even realized how long he’d been on Corroded Coffin’s channel, and sure enough his alarm went off a few seconds later. Getting up, he shuffled out into the apartment and found Robin in the kitchen making a coffee.

“Robs,” Steve said, his voice a bit rough with lack of sleep.

Robin turned around and frowned worriedly. “Seriously, Dingus, did you even sleep?”

“Robs, I fucked up,” he said sadly, dropping onto one of the stools at the island and holding his head in his hands.

“Well, yeah, you didn’t sleep,” Robin said nervously, coming around the island to sit next to him.

“No, this,” Steve said, unlocking his phone to play the end of the video he last watched.

Robin blinked down at the phone when the video ended. “Oof,” Robin started slowly before looking at Steve. “I don’t think you fucked up.”

“Robin, did you watch the same video? He was so—and I was so mean!” Steve groaned, crossing his arms on the counter and dropping his head on top of them.

“Okay, listen, yeah you were a bitch, let’s just get that out there. That doesn’t mean you’ve fucked up. You just need to call him and listen to his apology, and then you can decide how you want to move forward,” Robin said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

And theoretically, it was. The ball was in his court when it came to making contact with Eddie again, Steve knew that much. Steve was still the hurt party, even if he had been wrong about Eddie’s intentions, and he told Eddie to lose his number.

If anyone was going to reach out, it would come down to Steve.

Except Steve had been mean, stubbornly mean, even. It was hard to come back from being that way, to admit he had been cruel and that he was wrong for it. It didn’t help matters that he was watching that video repeatedly to punish himself either.

So Steve was at a stalemate of his own creation, and he had finally worn Robin’s sympathy out.

Dustin groaned. “Can we please stop talking about this? You keep talking around in circles, you won’t tell me all the details for some stupid reason—”

“It’s confidential,” Steve said, smirking when Dustin gestured at Robin, offended.

“You told her!” he said.

“And she’s an adult. And also my roommate,” Steve replied and Dustin turned red.

“I’m an adult, too—”

“Okay! I’ve gotta get back to work,” Steve interrupted with a loud clap. “See you around, Dusty-buns—”

“Stop calling me that, man,” Dustin whined, and Steve just laughed as he left the storage room.

“Hey, Dingus, wait up,” Robin said as she hurried after him, grabbing the sleeve of Steve’s cardigan as they walked. “I’m serious, Steve, call him. If he’s even half as in love with you as he seems in that video, he’ll forgive you instantly. If he even held what you said against you.”

“It’s worse if he didn’t,” Steve grumbled and shrugged Robin off, waving as they went their separate ways in the lobby.

It was shaping up to be another long day of self-pity and Steve was resigned to it as he returned to his desk. It was just his luck that his phone would ring the second he settled into a proper sulk.

“Thank you for calling Chicago In-Terminal Events, this is Steve,” Steve greeted in the happiest voice he could muster as he glanced at his phone. He froze when he saw the phone number and realized he recognized it, even if he only saw it once.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie said, his voice tentative and unsure.

“Mr. Munson,” Steve replied, his mind reeling with relief, even if he was defaulting to professionalism.

There was a silent pause before Eddie chuckled a bit. “Honestly didn’t think you’d pick up,” he confessed.

“I didn’t realize it was you calling,” Steve said, and he grimaced at how bitchy he was still sounding.

This is what he wanted. Steve wanted Eddie to call again, to reach back out, to try and apologize again so that Steve could actually listen and maybe even accept it. And what, he was just going to screw that up because he had committed to being mad about it?

“Okay, I deserve that—”

“No—”

“Steve, I get that I’ve got literally zero right to ask you for anything, but please just listen?” Eddie asked in a rush, and Steve closed his mouth.

“Go ahead,” Steve said after a moment, realizing belatedly that Eddie was waiting for him to give him the okay.

Eddie took a deep breath. “It wasn’t fair to you, and I should’ve come clean a hell of a lot sooner. I just… really liked talking to you, and I was afraid you’d stop talking to me if you knew,” he said, and Steve’s heart ached at how sad Eddie sounded. “But doing what I did took away your choice, and it was really selfish of me because I got to hide behind this extra fuckin’ layer of armor or whatever while you were being real.”

Steve couldn’t even argue that Eddie’s fear was unfounded. Had Eddie come clean at the beginning, he would’ve put an immediate stop to their conversations. He wasn’t really forbidden from speaking to the performers, but it wasn’t encouraged either. Also, Steve would have had no interest in talking to Eddie; he was the frontman of a metal band, and Steve almost exclusively listened to what was most popular at the moment. But that was before he had gotten to know Eddie, even if he hadn’t been truthful about who he was exactly.

As he was mulling those thoughts over, he realized that had Eddie cleared up the misunderstanding immediately, they wouldn’t have talked at all. Steve would never have known that Eddie even existed, really. It was a bit annoying to consider that Eddie had ultimately done the best thing by hiding behind a fake identity.

“I really like you Steve, and I really want to keep talking to you,” Eddie continued after a few moments of silence and Steve let a slow breath out through his nose.

“The only reason I was able to chat with you on company time was because I thought you were my client,” Steve said slowly as he picked up his pencil and jotted down Eddie’s number from the screen on his phone. “I can’t really justify talking to you that much now.”

“Then give me your number? Like your personal one and we’ll keep it off the clock,” Eddie said quickly, and Steve raised his eyebrow at that, even if his stomach fluttered at the request. Eddie seemed to realize what he did and quickly added, “please?”

“Hm,” Steve hummed thoughtfully, and he hoped it sounded as playful as he had intended it. “I’ll consider it. I have to go now.”

“Steve, I really am sorry,” Eddie said quickly, and Steve chuckled a bit.

“I know, and thanks. For apologizing, I mean,” Steve replied, and finally he was apparently able to drop the bitchy tone, as if the mean, hurt part of him was waiting for those two words to finally drop its guard. Eddie seemed to hear the change in his tone, sighing out a small laugh.

“I will apologize as much as you want,” Eddie breathed, and Steve chuckled.

“Goodbye, Eddie,” Steve said, his voice soft and quiet, and he hung the receiver up before Eddie could respond.

Steve smiled down at his phone as he typed out a quick text, but he didn’t send it immediately. It wasn’t entirely intentional, as he was called away from his desk because Tammy needed assistance with one of her clients up in the meeting rooms. When he finally had a chance to sit back down and unlock his phone, it was roughly an hour and a half later.

‘Hey it’s Steve,’ his text read, and Steve got back to his work. When his phone almost immediately vibrated, lighting up with the notification from Eddie, Steve’s stomach filled with butterflies.

His good mood was interrupted when his computer pinged, reminding him that he was at work. Putting away his phone, he saw an email in his inbox from the sales manager he hated. Steve didn’t want to open the email, not wanting to be misgendered for the first time in weeks, but the woman had marked the email as “urgent” so he couldn’t reasonably ignore it.

“What the fuck?!”

Steve jumped and looked over at Joyce’s office, eyes wide as she continued to rant with a truly creative use of expletives. It wasn’t uncommon for Joyce to cuss, far from it even, but she wasn’t known to go on a tirade for that long.

Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway of her office with her kindest smile on her face as she looked at Steve. “Steve, can I speak with you for a minute?” she asked, and dread settled in his gut.

‘Oh fuck, she knows about Eddie,’ he thought as he nodded and locked his computer.

When he sat down across from Joyce’s desk, she glanced at her monitor and made a disgusted sound before meeting his gaze. “Why is Carol calling you by that name, Steve?” she asked calmly, and Steve just blinked at her, his mouth dropping open.

“What?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“The email she just sent, she referred to you as your birth name and then your real name in parentheses to the client. Do you know why she’s doing that?” Joyce asked again, and when he just blinked at her, still confused. “Did you look at the email, Steve? She copied me in it, so that’s why I saw it.”

Steve grimaced. “I was… stalling opening it. I was feeling good and didn’t want to be misgendered. I know it’s marked urgent, so I wasn’t going to ignore it forever, I promise, just—”

“Steve, honey, slow down! I’m not mad at you, you’re not in trouble, I promise! Are you telling me this has been going on for a while?” Joyce asked, horrified.

Steve shrugged and looked away, his face hot with embarrassment. “A couple months, I think? She didn’t always do that, so I dunno,” he said quietly, shrugging again.

“Why didn’t you say anything? No, don’t answer that, that was worded terribly. Let me start over,” Joyce said, waving him off when he tried to interrupt. Taking a deep breath, Joyce started again, “I want you to feel like you can come to me when you’re having problems, Steve, and this is a huge problem.”

Steve swallowed thickly, a bit emotional at how fired up Joyce was about this without him bringing it up to her first. Realizing she was waiting for some kind of response, Steve nodded quickly and looked at his knees.

“Carol’s behaviour must be addressed, Steve. If you don’t want to talk to me about this, I can absolutely bring HR in on this. Just let me know what would make you most comfortable moving forward,” Joyce said gently before she quietly added, “And I’m sorry, Steve, for anything I’ve done that made you feel like you had to deal with this on your own.”

“You didn’t do anything, Joyce,” Steve said quickly, looking up to meet her eyes. “I just—I don’t think I can really explain how it feels, but I just—standing up for myself about this is scary. It’s—yeah, so far I’ve had a ton of support, but that’s all been because it’s been easy. What Carol’s doing…”

Steve trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck to stop himself from shrugging again.

“Is there anyone on the team you worry about siding with her if this becomes a problem?” Joyce asked and Steve quickly shook his head.

“It’s not like I think anyone’s secretly hating my guts, just… in my experience, people show where they actually stand the second I get firm about my name and pronouns,” Steve said carefully, staring at the ceiling. “I’d rather deal with the dysphoria than find out who only respects me when I’m not making a fuss.”

Joyce let out a slow breath and when Steve looked at her she had tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this, and I’m even more sorry that you feel that way. Unfortunately, I still have to deal with this now that I know she’s doing this. It’s up to you how involved you are.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“You can either file a formal complaint against her with HR, or I can take it to HR and file the complaint myself as your manager,” Joyce said, holding her hands out on the desk between them. “I can make it about how I feel about my employee being discriminated against like this.”

Steve considered the options, and he was tempted to let Joyce file the complaint. At the same time, he knew Joyce had his back, even without him asking, and that alone felt like enough to deal with whatever fall-out came of this.

Shaking his head, Steve said, “I’ll file the complaint.”

Joyce tilted her head with a soft smile. “Only if you want to, Steve. I don’t expect you to, and this isn’t a test,” she insisted, and Steve laughed a bit at that.

“I know, Joyce. Just—I’ll file the complaint,” Steve replied. “How do we actually do this?”

“We’ll take this to HR, and they’ll help us with the next step. Since this is a sensitive subject regarding discrimination in the workplace, they will likely take over completely and work with Carol’s HR department to do an investigation,” Joyce answered, taking a deep breath. “Can you forward me every email you’ve received from her that you still have?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve agreed.

“And can you also forward me any emails you’ve sent to her with your signature attached?” Joyce asked, pulling up a blank email on her screen, starting the message to HR.

“Yep, absolutely,” Steve said, nodding quickly. At that, Joyce turned in her chair to face him fully.

“Steve, I really want you to know that I’m in your corner, no matter what. I will deal with anyone—and I mean anyone—who treats you poorly,” she said, her voice deathly serious before she turned back to the computer. Then her face scrunched up as she asked, “You know what’s stupid?”

“What?” Steve asked with a startled laugh.

“She has her goddamned pronouns in her signature, and she can’t get yours right?” Joyce said and Steve laughed.

“Right? I thought I was having a stroke when she first deadnamed me and I noticed those,” Steve joked, and Joyce made a disgusted sound.

“And right at the start of Pride Month, too? The CEO just sent out an email about inclusion, especially around trans rights, and she sends this?” Joyce ranted before shaking her head and then shaking out her hands. “Okay, I need to calm down before I send this email. You want a coffee, Steve? Let’s go grab a coffee.”

Just like that, Joyce was jumping up and grabbing her blazer and wallet. Steve barely had time to react before she gestured impatiently.

“C’mon, Steve, let’s go,” she insisted, and Steve jumped up with a laugh, following her out of the office.

❖

When Steve got home, he forced himself to get changed and make himself dinner before he picked up his phone and responded to literally any of the texts Eddie had sent. Yes, there had been multiple over the day, though Steve could tell from the previews he saw when he glanced at his phone that they were largely just stream-of-thought type messages. None of them were demanding his attention immediately.

It was cute, surprising even.

Finally, Steve settled on his bed and opened the texts from Eddie.

Munson [sent at 13:41]: hi❗❗❗ ur off at 5, right? 😁😁😁 Munson [sent at 14:01]: u have to see this ✨✨ugly✨✨ ass bug i just found❗❗❗ Munson [sent at 14:01]: wait r bug pics okay 😬 i'll wait til u tell me before i send it😋😋😋🐜🐜 Munson [sent at 15:46]: gonna be playing tonight 🎸🎸🕺🏻 but w timezones and shit we should still be at the hotel when u get home 😋 Munson [sent at 17:00]: lmk if i can call u 👉🏻👈🏻 txting is fine too tho❗❗❗ just like hearing u 😚

Steve grinned at the messages, especially the liberal usage of emojis. It was honestly adorable, especially imagining a man who looked like Eddie Munson punctuating every sentence with at least one emoji. The last message made his heart give a fluttery little squeeze, especially when he noticed it was sent around the time Steve was clocking out.

Steve [sent at 18:21]: hey, home now, u can call whenever. I’ll be up for a few more hours probably Steve [sent at 18:22]: bug pics are fine, btw

It took about five minutes for Steve’s phone to start vibrating with the incoming call.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, just to be met with raucous laughter and the wailing of his name from the other band members. There was even a voice that sounded suspiciously like Chrissy in the mix.

“You’re a bunch of embarrassing fucking animals!” Eddie was barking at them, and by the way their laughter got suddenly quieter with a click, Steve could guess they had been hanging out in one hotel room. “Sorry about that,” Eddie said into the phone, his voice quiet and nervous.

“It’s all good,” Steve said, blushing deeply at actually hearing that dumb bit live.

“They’re so dumb. I swear, the moment they start dating anyone outside the band I’m gonna be ruthless,” Eddie promised grumpily, but it was punctuated with a chuckle. “Anyway, how was work?”

Steve’s heart squeezed again, overwhelmed by the question in a way that was beyond stupid. It was small talk at best and taking it as what, domesticity? Just setting himself up for heartbreak later.

“Work was work. Getting into the summer here, so tours and entertainment groups are picking back up and it’s getting pretty busy,” Steve responded, shrugging a shoulder despite Eddie not being able to see him. Then he said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Eddie immediately replied, and Steve could hear the sound of a door shutting. Steve assumed that meant Eddie was now in his own hotel room.

“Why did you actually lie? Like, assuming I would stop talking to you aside like… why was it so important that I kept talking to you?” he asked, frowning a bit. “You didn’t really know me for the first few calls, so I just… don’t think it started with your feelings about me.”

Eddie let out a huff of laughter followed by a small oof as the phone was jostled a bit. “You’re so fuckin’ smart, Stevie, it’s scary sometimes,” Eddie muttered, and Steve blushed.

“Not a whole lot of people would agree with that,” Steve teased, and Eddie made a disgusted noise.

“Those people are just lying to themselves,” he said firmly before sighing. “I haven’t had like… a real conversation with someone in, like, forever. Since we started proper touring as openers and stuff. The only people I could talk to about things were the boys, Chrissy, and my uncle.”

Steve frowned at that but didn’t interrupt, even when Eddie paused for several seconds.

“When you called it was nice to not be Eddie Munson Of Corroded Coffin, and when I flirted with you, you—it was just nice. The way you reacted when I flirted,” Eddie said, his voice quiet. “It made me feel like I was a normal guy.”

“What—I don’t even remember how I reacted the first time,” Steve said, trying to recall that conversation two months ago.

“It wasn’t just the first time; it was every time. Like you would get shy and then give it back as good as you got, y’know? I’m used to flirting with people and them just…” Eddie trailed off, groaning. “I hate how this sounds out loud, but people normally just… throw themselves at me. Like, if I’m giving them attention, they need to get in my pants immediately, as if getting to know them at all is off the table. Like they think I won’t want to spend time with them if I actually knew them.”

“Sounds really lonely,” Steve confessed, his heart aching for Eddie and a new wave of guilt washed over Steve about the ‘groupie’ comment.

“I’ve got the boys and Chrissy, plus my uncle back home,” Eddie deflected, and Steve let him have that space.

“I’m sorry, too. For the groupie thing,” Steve said instead of pushing it, and Eddie laughed.

“Hey, it’s fine—”

“No, it’s not. That was—I was hurt, and sometimes when I’m hurt I get mean,” Steve insisted firmly, talking over Eddie. “It’s something I’ve been working on, and you can’t let me get away with it, even if you think you deserved it, got it?”

There was a pause. “Got it, Stevie,” Eddie replied, laughing softly before he hummed. “I just want you to know I’m really happy you’re giving me a second chance.”

“Honestly, Eddie, I regretted telling you off pretty much immediately,” Steve admitted, chewing on his bottom lip.

“You still sounded pretty angry when you answered the phone earlier…” Eddie pointed out and Steve grimaced.

“Like I said, when I’m hurt I can be an asshole, and I was still a bit hurt because you did lie and it was kind of embarrassing as a professional fumbling like that in front of Chrissy,” Steve pointed out. “I’m lucky Chrissy isn’t super uptight, because that alone could’ve cost me my job, Eddie.”

“Yikes, sorry, again,” Eddie replied sheepishly. “What changed your mind?”

“I, uh, looked you up,” Steve admitted, and Eddie went very silent on the other line.

When Steve didn’t elaborate further, Eddie let out a strangled little, “Oh?”

“Yeah, kinda just figured out what band you’re in first and stuff, saw some of your promo stuff for your newest album, read an article about your disability,” Steve explained, clearing his throat nervously. “Then while I was reading another article, I clicked a link to your YouTube—”

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie groaned, his voice muffled as if he had buried his face into a pillow. Then, with his voice a bit clearer, he added, “Please tell me you haven’t watched the Tour Diaries, I’m begging you, Stevie, even if you have to lie.”

“I don’t like to lie, Eddie,” Steve said with a grin, blushing as he thought about videos again. “They were sweet—”

“It’s so embarrassing, and I swear I was only letting Gareth keep the stupid Steve Spotting segment in there because Steve is a super common name and you said you didn’t know or care about who we were, but I can absolutely get Gareth to remove the segments—” Eddie rambled, sounding a bit panicked.

“Eddie, the segment is fine! It’s great, I don’t—Gareth can keep the segment in the videos. It was that segment that got my bitchy head out of my ass,” Steve interrupted, and Eddie sputtered, and Steve liked to imagine that he was blushing.

“But… can you pretend to have a problem with it so the boys will leave me alone?” Eddie asked in a dramatically pouty voice.

“Absolutely not,” Steve replied with a grin.

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned before sighing, and letting the conversation lapse into silence that was not awkward or uncomfortable.

“Tell me something about yourself that you haven’t told me before,” Steve said quietly after a minute, smiling at Eddie’s soft hum.

“I can tell you about how I got burned,” Eddie replied and Steve frowned.

“You don’t have to. I know you don’t like answering questions about that—”

“I only dodge that question with strangers, especially strangers who are reporters. You, Stevie, are neither of those things,” Eddie said flippantly, taking a deep breath. “In twelfth grade I, uh, set myself on fire.”

“Oh shit,” Steve said, eyebrows shooting high on his forehead.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just like… oops, dropped a lit match on myself. I had the bright idea to do the whole… flamethrower thing with a can of hairspray and a lighter,” Eddie continued and Steve grimaced. “Before you ask, there was next to zero thought process behind that decision, it was almost entirely impulse.”

“How’d you end up on fire though? I thought the hairspray flamethrower made the flames pretty directional,” Steve asked, though he was definitely not completely positive on that either.

“Yeah, well, the wind changed direction and suddenly my pants, my shirt, and my hair was on fire,” Eddie replied with a put-upon sigh and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “The worst part was the hair. Not only did that shit stink, but man, my hair was glorious.”

“I don’t know, your hair is pretty glorious now, too,” Steve said appreciatively, thinking back to the black and white photo and the way his long curls spread across the vanity and fell over his shoulders.

There was a slight pause before Eddie let out a soft, almost shy giggle. “Stevie, I don’t know how to handle compliments from you now that I know you’ve actually seen me,” he admitted and Steve grinned.

“Good to know,” Steve hummed cheekily, laughing when Eddie groaned a bit.

In the background at Eddie’s end, Steve could hear a knock and a muffled voice. “Yeah! Heard you loud and—shut the fuck up, we’re only talking!” Eddie yelled, before saying to Steve, “Duty calls, Stevie. Can I call you after the show?”

“If I’m still up,” Steve replied instantly, still grinning up at the ceiling of his room.

“Awesome, I’ll text you! Later, babe,” Eddie said in a rush and hung-up before Steve could properly respond.

Steve held the silent phone to his ear for a while, repeating the term of endearment in his head over and over again while blushing up at the ceiling. His phone vibrated and startled Steve out of his thoughts.

Looking at the screen, it was a picture from Eddie, and for a second Steve was excited about potentially receiving a selfie from the man. When he opened it, he was confused to be faced with an image of a truly hideous bug.

Munson [sent at 18:57]: look at this ✨✨ugly✨✨ ass mf❗❗❗❗❗ he's so ✨✨uuuuuuuglyyyyy✨✨ Munson [sent at 18:58]: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Steve laughed, grinning at the image and the truly comical number of crying emojis that followed the message.

❖

Steve and Eddie spent the next couple of weeks talking daily. During his breaks at work, Steve would text Eddie, and when he would get home for the day, they would call each other. Most of their conversations were Eddie retelling a few stories about himself without the lens of Chris talking about the “frontman”. Even though Steve had heard the stories before, they were so much richer being retold in first person and had more details that Eddie had to previously omit.

They also made a few video calls, usually when production brought the boys to a local landmark to film them “seeing the sights” and Eddie wanted to show Steve something cool. Steve was pretty set on limiting how much time they spent on video calls, knowing it would just make him even more obsessed with Eddie.

Though, that ship had definitely already sailed, and Steve knew it deep in his heart. Even on days when he was too busy at work to spare a few moments to check his texts, he would look at his phone every time it vibrated and grinned when he saw Eddie’s name in his notifications.

When there was only two weeks before the band arrived, Steve went upstairs to meet with one of the front office supervisors, Will.

He was largely responsible for doing room assignments and communicating about groups to the rest of the team. Will was a great kid, super polite, charming, and great with guests to the point that literally every guest that dealt with him and left a review mentioned him by name. So many guests seemed to actually fall in love with the kid, and most of the time that seemed to go over the kid’s head.

Regardless, when Steve left the front desk to join events, he put Will’s name in to replace him.

“Hey Will, you got a minute?” Steve said as he poked his head around the corner to look in on Will’s workstation.

Will looked up at him with wide eyes before smiling and reaching over to his phone to pause his music. The song that had been playing was familiar to Steve, even if it was heavier than the music he typically listened to. After a moment, it clicked that he knew exactly what, or more whose song that was and grinned.

“Yeah, Steve, what’s up?” Will asked, turning to face Steve expectantly. He paused when he saw the gleeful expression on Steve’s face, raising an eyebrow.

Grabbing one of the other chairs in the back office, Steve sat down and handed Will the group summary for Eddie’s band. There was nothing identifying on the page, as it only contained the information that had been turned over to him and then elaborated on by Eddie and Chrissy over the past couple of months.

“We’ve got an entertainment group arriving in a couple weeks. I wanted to go over this with you personally, along with the riders,” Steve said as Will began reading the summary. “It’s a band and film crew. They arrive on the thirteenth, depart on the sixteenth. Their concert is on the Fri—”

“Who is it?” Will interrupted, a bit uncharacteristically, and Steve smirked just a bit when Will’s eyes shot up to meet his.

“They’re a metal band,” Steve responded airily, his smirk fighting to become a grin when Will seemed to vibrate for a second.

“Who is it, Steve?” he asked again, leaning forward.

“Corroded Coffin,” Steve finally said, grinning properly when Will actually stomped his feet excitedly. The kid tended to be pretty reserved, except when he was passionate about something like Dungeons & Dragons, or apparently metal bands.

“This is so cool. I love that band,” Will said, turning his music back on.

“You going to the concert?” Steve asked, and his smile fell a bit when Will frowned.

“The show sold out before I could afford a ticket. They went on sale right after rent and my student loans got pulled,” Will complained, shrugging slightly, but his expression was still excited. “This is so cool though. If I promise not to be weird about it, would it be possible to meet them?”

Steve laughed and nodded. “I think I could make that happen for you,” he said with a wink before standing up.

As Will exploded into a full rant about Corroded Coffin and their music, Steve took that moment to unlock his phone and read the steady flood of texts he had received from Eddie over the day.

Eddie [sent at 10:03]: holy shit i saw another ✨✨fucked up bug✨✨ wth 🤮 Eddie [sent at 11:17]: garebear thinks these candies taste good 🤮🤮🤮 pls tell me ur normal and agree theyre the nastiest shit on the planet 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Eddie [sent at 11:21]: ik ur busy but i'm taking ur silence as agreement and saying u agree w me to garebear 😤 Eddie [sent at 12:02]: wtf 😤 the pigs pulled us over for no gd reason❗❗❗ searched the whole gd bus and now we’re gonna be fuckn late for soundcheck❗❗❗ wtffffffffff 🤬 Eddie [sent at 12:37]: yo baby isnt it lunchtime there?????? u better be taking ur break soon❗❗❗ gotta eat food and stay big and 💪🏻strong💪🏻 and 🥵hot🥵❗❗❗ Eddie [sent at 13:07]: srsly stevie u better be eating 😠 even if ur not texting me back❗❗❗ 😘

Steve smiled fondly, his heart squeezing at the concern about his eating habits while he was at work. Turning his attention back to Will, he decided to keep what he had with Eddie a bit of a secret as it wasn’t something he wanted getting into the gossip pool. Anyway, Will didn’t need to know that Steve had some extra privileges with the band, or at least the frontman.

❖

The bus was noisily driving down the highway as Eddie lay on his stomach, propped on his elbows in his bunk and talking quietly on the phone with Steve. The curtains of his bunk were drawn closed for as much privacy as he could manage, and he was using earbuds so that his hands were free to fidget with all of his pent-up energy.

They were only a few days away from arriving in Chicago and Eddie was practically vibrating out of his skin about it. Currently he was in the middle of picking his nail polish off, which was making an absolute mess of his bunk that he would be super annoyed about when he finally hung-up with Steve and went to bed, but whatever.

Eddie would deal with that when he had to.

“Have you listened to any of our music, Stevie?” Eddie asked and he hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt asking. He’d been avoiding bringing up their music with Steve, worried that he wouldn’t like it at all.

“I’ve listened to a couple songs, yeah,” Steve responded with a chuckle.

Eddie waited a couple moments for Steve to say more on his own before asking, “What did you think?”

“I don’t really listen to metal, but your stuff is good,” Steve elaborated, and Eddie couldn’t help the way he wiggled happily at that. “There’s this kid at my work, at front desk, he loves your band. I told him about a week ago that you’re coming to the hotel, and he nearly vibrated through the floor.”

“Oh shit, that’s awesome,” Eddie said, his grin huge.

“He asked if he’d be able to meet you guys while you’re on-property,” Steve added, his voice full of mirth. “I said I would see what I could do.”

“Oh, Stevie, are you trying to exploit our little thing to get your coworker an exclusive meet and greet?” Eddie teased and Steve snorted.

“Nah, I was just gonna ask if it would be possible with your schedule. You can let me know when you do or whatever. No pressure,” Steve replied, and Eddie could tell he meant it.

“Well, he’s going to the show, right? I’ll see if I can upgrade his tickets,” Eddie said easily as he picked another chunk of nail polish off, but Steve sighed a bit sadly.

“Your show sold out before he could buy tickets,” he said at Eddie’s questioning hum, and Eddie frowned.

Well, that wouldn’t do. He’d have to talk to Chrissy about that.

Then Steve let out a little moan that Eddie knew was the noise reserved for stretching. He’d come to learn that Steve made a lot of little noises, when he stretched or was thinking particularly hard about something, or even the few times he fell asleep while they were on the phone. Each little noise was precious and drove Eddie insane with thoughts about the many other ways he could make Steve make such sweet little sounds.

So he cracked the same joke he did every time Steve stretched and moaned directly into his ear.

“Touching yourself over there, baby?” he asked, tone teasing and ready for Steve to scoff, tell him to keep it in his pants, and then go back to the conversation they were having before.

But Steve just hummed thoughtfully before asking, “And what if I was?”

Eddie’s thoughts came to a screeching halt as he tried to come up with a response to that. “What?” he asked stupidly, grimacing at himself.

Steve laughed. “What if I started touching myself?” he asked, his voice turning downright sultry.

“A-are you?” Eddie asked in a whisper. See, the rest of the boys could tolerate his late-night chats with Steve, but they wouldn’t for a second put up with Eddie saying filthy shit into the phone.

“Maybe… was considering it,” Steve replied, and Eddie could hear him shifting, maybe even undressing. That had Eddie’s attention and he shifted his hips as he felt his cock filling out against his bed. “Been thinking about our date a lot lately.”

“Steve, I can’t—I’m on the bus,” Eddie hissed into the phone and Steve made a small sound.

“Alright, I’ll hang up then—”

“No, please don’t hang up,” Eddie quickly interrupted, and if he wasn’t so hot and bothered already, he would’ve been embarrassed at just how desperate he sounded. “I just can’t, like, say anything right now.”

“Don’t have to,” Steve breathed down the line and Eddie shuddered. “Just have to listen, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, quiet and strangled. “Video call?”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” Steve sighed, even if the thoughtful hum sounded interested. Eddie would file that away for later.

“Then tell me what you’re doing,” Eddie whispered, biting his bottom lip roughly as he reached down to reposition his cock between himself and the shitty mattress of his bunk.

On the other end of the line, Steve let out a sound that was breathy and sweet, and Eddie wanted to taste that sound so desperately.

“Just touching my dick, thinking about getting your mouth on it,” Steve moaned, letting another sound tumble out that was much deeper, more guttural, a sound that Eddie felt all the way to the tip of his own cock. “Bet you—oh, fuck, bet your pretty mouth was made for eating cunt.”

Eddie shivered, staring down at the mess of nail polish on the bed, eyes wide as he tried to understand what was happening. Obviously, he was listening to Steve jerk off, listening to him openly fantasize about him, but that didn’t make sense to Eddie. He wasn’t going to complain at all, except for the fact that he couldn’t actually respond. Eddie knew that if he tried, if he opened his mouth and tried to speak right then, he would just moan and alert the three assholes plus Chrissy to their activities.

“Jesus, Eds, I’m so fucking wet thinking about it,” Steve sighed, letting another deep sound of pleasure loose.

Eddie let out a strangled, breathy sound and rocked against the mattress, a furious blush overcoming his face, ears, and throat as he literally humped his bed like a fucking teenager.

“Shit, Eds, gonna—fuck, can’t concentrate anymore. Gonna get myself off, just listen,” Steve eventually said around a thick, desperate groan.

“Got it, Stevie,” Eddie managed to say, his tone shockingly even and quiet.

Then he was treated to the sounds of Steve getting himself off, the way he gasped and moaned, the guttural noises as the pleasure mounted and strangled whines as he seemed to back off a bit. Like he was edging himself, just a bit, dragging it out to torture Eddie.

And fuck, if Steve didn’t moan like a goddamn porn star, like he was being paid to sound so fucking hot. There was a delirious moment where Eddie thought about recording these sounds to sample in a song somehow while he grabbed his body pillow and shoved it between his legs for better friction. Grabbing another pillow, he bit it to better muffle his own noises as he got closer to his own release.

Eddie Munson was about to come in his own boxers while humping a pillow. The thought of it was so humiliating, it looped right back around to being the hottest fucking thing to ever happen to him.

“Shit, Eds, gonna come,” Steve whined, and Eddie shivered, imagining Steve arching in his bed, fingers working his dick and cunt furiously. Then Steve gasped, his voice wavering just before he shouted, “Fuck, Eddie!”

That was it for Eddie. Grinding his teeth around his mouthful of pillow, Eddie rocked his hips hard and fast, breathing heavily through his nose as the front of his boxers became sticky and warm against his skin. With gasping, panting breaths, Eddie quickly rolled onto his hip to avoid too much cum seeping through the layers and defiling his body pillow more than he already had.

“Holy fuck, that was way hotter than I expected,” Steve gasped through is own post-coital panting. “Fuck, Eds, you sounded so hot trying to be quiet.”

Eddie laughed breathlessly. “Wish I didn’t have to be, but hey, as long as it worked for you,” he teased, pushing his sweaty, curly hair up off his forehead.

“It definitely worked,” Steve confirmed with a tired hum, then he audibly yawned and sighed. “Okay, I’ve gotta get to bed, okay?”

“Same. I’ve gotta also change real quick,” Eddie replied in a whisper, grinning at the groan that got out of Steve.

“Shut up, you’re gonna get me going again,” Steve laughed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie agreed. “Night, Stevie.”

“Night, Eds,” Steve yawned just before hanging up.

Before Eddie could even really think to move from his spot, the curtain of his bunk parted just enough for Gareth’s upside-down face to poke inside with an unimpressed glare.

“If you ever keep me up with freaky phone sex again, I’m putting Nair in your conditioner. Do not test me, Munson,” he bit out.

Eddie just narrowed his eyes. “You’re just jealous I’m getting freaky phone sex and you’re not,” he replied with a haughty sniff. He knew better than to call Gareth’s bluff.

“Of course, I fucking am,” Gareth snapped back before wrinkling his nose. “God, now the whole bus is gonna stink like jizz. Chrissy’s gonna strangle you and I’m gonna let her.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Garebear,” Eddie cooed as he began stripping out of his wet pajama pants and boxers, not even waiting for Gareth to look away. Honestly, it worked better to threaten his childhood best friend with his nudity to get him to look away faster.

“You’re fucking gross, man,” Gareth groused as he disappeared from view, and Eddie just grinned.

[ NEXT ]

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#steddie #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #gerry writes #peace of mind

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onskepa · 11 months

Note

HIIIIII!! I just want to ask if you could do a black ( if you do poc) 6'11 reader who has an avatar that is 9'11, and she's really sassy but in a funny way and also brutally honest way, who prefers animals over people and just don't deal with the omaticaya but weirdly the cln7( including neytiri) loves when she's around bc she's super simpatic ans what i am SPECIFICALLY asking is you could do one where the sullys boys + spider are in love with her but she doesn't know and they don't know if they'll confess which is basically torture for everyone since they have to witness all of this( HELL THEY'RE MAKING BETS)

SORRY IF IT IS TOO MUCH YOU CAN CHOOSE TO TAKE OUT SOME DETAILS IF YOU WANT TO!!!! 🙏

Hello!! sorry for the wait on this one, I wanted to get it right! hope you like it!

Ch1 , Ch2, Ch3

Tstew

"HEY TSTEW! CATCH!" a fruit was thrown and aimed for Tstew's head, which she catches flawlessly. "trying to aim for my head lolo?" she smirks as she takes a bite from the fruit.

Tstew, a pet name given to her, which means brave. She likes the sound and its meaning. gives her a boost of confidence.

"it be pure luck to get a hit" kiri says as she and neteyam jump down from a brach. Lo'ak and spider joined in by coming out of some tall grass. Lo'ak shakes his head and he puts an elbow on Tstew's head. "well if she was a bit shorter, maybe", without saying anything, tstew grabbed him by the arm and threw his whole body down to the ground, landing with an 'OOF!'.

Tstew as she is named by her friends, was much like spider. Born on the planet of pandora, her home, didn't know anything of her birth parents and didn't care to know either. But one thing she is 100% sure its genetic, is her height. Standing proudly tall at 6'11, she over towers almost everyone. Her dark skin makes her stand out even more. Her bright green eyes that reflect pandora's nature. One of her prized assets being her hair. While she never interwoven with the Omaticaya clan, she had adopted their hair styles. Braiding her long hair and decorating it with beads and feathers.

Don't get the wrong idea, Tstew loves and respected the clan and the na'vi. However she believes its best to stay away at a safe distance. After the great battle, there was still tension between the na'vi and the humans who stayed. She didn't want the thin relationship to bend and break. So instead she would rather spend her time with the animals and nature.

Kiri rolled her eyes and spider and neteyam look at their friend with pride in their eyes, "had enough of rough housing? we are going to miss them" kiri said almost impatient. "don't worry kiri, we will make it" tstew replied and she help's lo'ak back on his feet. Neteyam takes lead and guides everyone else to see the herd of prolemuris.

As everyone starts to run and jump to get to the specific location, neteyam and tstew both had ran faster, jumping and swinging from vines. "think you can catch up nete?" tstew shouts as she jumps around. Neteyam laughed as he admires his friend, "I always do!". Lo'ak and kiri were just as fast but can see neteyam's and tstew determination to beat the other.

Finally arriving, the five arrived, huddled together in a branch, using the massive leaves to hide themselves. "ugh, spider, move!" tstew places her chin on top of spiders head, to which makes spider's heart thump a bit. Lo'ak held in a grunt, so he shoved himself close to tstew. "idiot give room! its to tight!" spider frowns as he tries to push back lo'ak. Kiri rolls her eyes and she lays on a branch above from them, "no need to huddle all together" she says.

"SSHH! they are coming!" neteyam hushes the others as the see Prolemuris swinging in herd. All communicating in their own sounds and pass by the kids. Their beautiful colors blending with the forest greens and doing their thing. All the kids look at them in awe as not often do they see those creatures. Kiri and tstew appreciate every chance they get to see them.

"so pretty...." neteyam whispers in awe, "did you say something nete?" asks tstew, neteyam clears his throat and shakes his head. "no, I didn't say anything". Tstew shrugs it all, as unconsciously she wraps her arms around spider, who he is loving the embrace while lo'ak and neteyam glare at him in envy.

tstew's eyes linger on as the view of the creatures fade away into the forest. She tries to swing like them but unfortunately, she only has 2 noodle arms. "that was fun to watch, but we better get back, its almost eclipse" kiri says. So everyone got up and this time, they took their pace slow to head back. Lo'ak turns to tstew with a grin, "excited for tomorrow?", this made tstew light up with glee. "fuck yeah I am! I have waited so long for this! I can use my avatar and bye bye to this stupid mask-oh, sorry spider" she grins nervously. Spider shrugs not offended. "its ok" but spider refuses to admit, he wished he too had an avatar. But the science guys only had enough material to make one more, and Tstew's DNA was compatible.

Neteyam grins, as he too is excited. They can do more things now since tstew was limited to certain things because of her human body. "though I high doubt your strength will be any different tstew" neteyam teases. Tstew took that as a challenge, "oh yeah?! try this!" she full body slams on neteyam as they start to rough house.

though neteyam tries to give tstew a challenge, its a bit tricky since he didn't want to break her mask. And admit he would let tstew win. Kiri scoffs and she warns them to hurry it up. And fair, the sky was starting to get dark.

They made it in time, as the sully kids said their goodbye's to spider and tstew. Both kids got into their base and slept. Waiting eagerly for tomorrow.

NEXT DAY

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

THIS WILL HAVE A PART 2!

Tstew = Brave

I hoped you all liked it. Lemme know what ya'll think! It will have a sequel for sure!

215 notes · View notes

sorcerersseestars · 11 months

Text

his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him?

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away.

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance.

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

“My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

#gojo satoru x reader #reader needs a hug #gojo satoru needs a hug #geto suguru #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk angst #angst/comfort #hurt/comfort #geto suguru needs a hug but he’s not getting one

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animasola86 · 6 months

Text

Struggles of a Smut Writer

Things I wonder about, mostly after I submit a piece when I should think about it earlier. Re-reading my own stuff always comes at a cost.

Anatomy

Can this even work? How does it work? What the fuck is happening?! The time I spent staring at anatomical pictures (or porn) or checking things out myself, oof. But research is important, right?

Limbs/Bodies (ties into Anatomy)

Where is his hand, where is she, how are they connected/touching, where is what? Did they move? Where is what now? How can they move? What exactly is going on?

Word repetition

Can I write cock again? When did I last use cock? Should I use something else? How many synonyms do I really know? Doesn't it sound silly? Am I even describing the right thing? (Last one ties into Anatomy/Language)

Language (can apply to any writing, not just smut)

I am not a native English-speaker, I learned from different media sources from different countries. Is this how a British person would speak? (As I write mostly for HL/HP characters, they have to sound British imo.) What's the term for this? Why does that sound so weird? Do people say this? Can I just add another gerund to this, how many times have I used "as" now? How long is that sentence really?

Details

How many details are too many details? Is it necessary to describe every single thing, isn't it too much? Can I even write vague anymore? I used to, I was so vague in my early writings, you'd have to get a magnifying glass to spot the smut. Not anymore. There are so many details now, holy shit. Too many? Or should I add even more? Is it enough? Can people understand what's going on?

Is this even sexy?

I write what I want to read, so I cater to my own tastes. Will other people enjoy this as well? Or is it too weird? Am I disgusting for thinking/writing about these things? What is wrong with me?

What next?

What can I write about next? Isn't it all the same at the end? How can I make it different/better/more diverse? How many kinks are too many kinks? Which ones have I not yet written about? Won't this get boring? Should I do reader-insert or third-person? Whose POV? How can I make this work?

The struggles are real.

[ AO3 ] [ masterlist ]

#writer struggles #smut writer #writing #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy

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madameminor · 1 year

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In More Ways Than One, Part 7 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Crime...

Summary: Your Sergeant has given you an order. Kind of. And you're following it. Kind of. Its hard out here for a brat.

64.media.tumblr.com

Tags: No smut this chapter, just a brat bein' a brat.

Warnings: Rough handling towards end of chapter.

Notes: You lucky minxes, this one chapter became so long I had to make it into two chapters. Here's the first one. The second one will be posted within the next week. Enjoy ;) Thanks @corona-one for sharing your vaccine knowledge, and @dumfanting once more for your beta-ing!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

“…and last thing. What’s going on with your medic?”

“What do you mean?”

“There are some interesting rumors going around, starting to make their way higher in the ranks.”

“Oh really? What about?”

“Let’s just say it's about your medic’s… relationship with all of you.”

“Hmph. Yeah, we’ve heard about the ‘whore of 99’.”

“Oof, that’s the one. Normally I wouldn’t worry about it, but it's getting loud enough that the Generals might hear, and they’ll want to check in on the whole situation, for her safety. Now I know you boys, but you aren’t known around command for your gentile personalities. Wherever it’s coming from, reign it in a little bit. Your squad doesn’t need that kind of speculation - her least of all. Don’t need the whole GAR knowing her intimate details. Got it, trooper?”

_____________________________________________________________

You walk in and lean against the door frame as Cody disappears from the holoprojector. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Cody never calls ‘just to chat’. Another mission? An emergency? You watch Hunter with his chin in his hand and your heart goes to him.

“That bad, hm?”

He turns towards you.

“No, nothing to really worry about.” He holds out his hand. You take it, using it to straddle him, to get in close and comfort him. You lean your arms on his shoulders, carding your fingers gently through his hair.

“Then what’s the matter, Sergeant Hunter?” you smirk down at him, watching him take you in.

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing between the joints of your armor. “Hm, just sounds like that rumor run is working too well. Cody was calling to ask about it, give us a heads up.”

You tilt your head forward, giving your lovingly incredulous look more emphasis. “Is that really a problem? That WAS the goal.”

He smirks, his crook-ed finger slightly lifting your chin. “If Cody is warning us about it, It’s…something to keep an eye on. Might be best to appear as a “regular squad’ today out among the regs.”

Your heart sinks a little bit, along with a twinge of irritation at his tone. You huff. “So we’re play-acting after all.”

He smirks up at you.

“You’ll find a way to get through.”

Oh you will, will you? “This sounds like an order, Sergeant”

“Hah. I guess it is.” He nuzzles into your neck, taking in your scent.

OOOOoooo… so Hunter has quite a bit to learn about relationships. You could be an adult and talk about it. Buuuuut… where’s the fun in that?

A lesson then. So be it.

____________________________________________________________

Knowing what’s to come, you make sure to spend your landing time hungrily making out with Crosshair on his bunk, your fingers in his hair, his fingers desperately squeezing your hip-

-all just in time for the hatch to open.

You softly groan into his lips. “Crooooss… we have to go.”

His lips move to your neck, fingers pulling you closer to him. “Let them hear. Worked out last time.”

You sigh in regret. “We can’t, Hunter’s orders.”

He nips at your neck in frustration.

“Fine. Later, you’re mine.”

He stands, pulling you up and grabbing his helmet. You take a second to kiss him again, nuzzling him to look at you.

“Whatever happens, Cross, just remember. I’m ending up with you tonight.”

He looks you up and down with slight suspicion, but nods, turning to join the others in their descent.

Standing at attention and awaiting your party is a trooper in armor decorated in dark purple, the designs minimal, but well drawn. He removes his helmet to reveal a standard clone face, minus a scar through one eyebrow and a small soul patch. There’s a merry glint to his serious eyes. You like him already.

“Clone Force 99, welcome aboard the Captivator. I’m Captain Case. Commander Core has been held up in strategy, but I’ll be taking you to your own briefing room to wait for him-” He pauses as his eyes light on you, his head cocking slightly to the side. You smile at him, using your bashful smile.

Hunter glances to you and back. “Problem?”

The Captain blinks, looking back to Hunter. “Apologies, just didn’t know your squad held a nat- a, uh, non-clone.”

You step past Tech, daintily offering your hand. “Good to meet you, trooper. I have a name, but everyone calls me ‘your majesty’.”

He grins. “Who am I to break tradition?” He takes your hand, pressing his lips to the plastoid covering your fingers. “Does that mean you require an escort?”

“From a dashing trooper such as yourself? Yes, I believe it does.”

He offers his arm out to you with a slight bow, grin widening. “Then if you will, ma’am.”

You take it with a flirty smirk, doing your best impression of royalty, completely ignoring the feeling of eyes on your back.

He glances back at the squad, oblivious to any harm. “If you’ll follow me.”

You chat with the Captain as he leads you on, the usual about the usual: ship’s company and capabilities. When you make it to the briefing room, Case excuses himself to retrieve the Commander, bowing to you with a grin and a flourish. You chuckle; not all troopers go along with the gag, but it's fun when they do.

Once he’s gone, you ignore all of the chairs - opting instead to sit on the briefing table, legs crossed, leaning back on your arms.

“Enjoy yourself?” Crosshair seethes. You can almost feel the jealousy radiating off of him, especially after getting him so excited before.

You wave your hand, dismissing his concerns. “SOMEone has to make up for your grumpy face.”

He relaxes a bit from your joke - but only a bit.

Echo sits himself in the chair next to you, his eyes glancing up your legs as his hand settles on the exposed point above your knee.

“Just remember we’re here for business, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you as the others take their seats.

“Says the one checking me out,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance down at his codpiece. “Do you like what you see, trooper? Because I do.”

His eyes involuntarily trace down your body, thoughts clearly headed into erotic territory-

“Knock it off, both of you,” Hunter barks from the chair to the other side of you, clearly displeased. “We've got incoming.”

Echo removes his hand guiltily, but you stay right. Where. You. are.

The doors part and in walks Commander Core and his Captain. The Commander has a short but full mustache from one side of his lip to the other.He seems barrel chested for a clone, if that’s possible, and he has the same jovial spark as his captain - with the same seriousness just behind it. You like it.

“Well, Clone Force 99, glad to see you comfortable. Sorry for the wait, you know strategy meetings.” Hunter stands, helmet under his arm. “Ah! Sergeant Hunter, I believe, good to put the flesh to the face.” They clasp arms in greeting, each acknowledging the other.

“Likewise, Commander. This is my squad, Tech: Crosshair: Wrecker: Echo: and-”

Core grins as you’re indicated. “Ah yes, the Queen herself. It's an honor to have you aboard our humble vessel, your majesty.” He takes your hand and kisses it with a small bow. He murmurs under his breath, “Usually I’m the only Queen around, so I appreciate the company.”

You chuckle as he releases your hand and turns to the others.

“Heard good things about all of you, and you’re going to need everything you’ve got for this one. Take your seats and let's get to it." He and the Captain take their places at the other end of the table, activating the table. "You’re headed to Saila III…”

The briefing is well thought out and concise - you’re impressed. The mission was on a planet largely toxic to organic life- which is why the droid army found it a perfect place to set up a secret droid research and development factory. There were inoculations that could be taken, but wouldn’t do for a whole army in a full on assault. No, they needed a small team, in and out, destroy everything, steal what data was possible - if the team could make it out alive.

The Commander was right, this one would be a doozy. For anyone else.

Core turns off the table and stands up from his chair. “That’s all the info I have for you - check in with the Med bay about your inoculations; there’s a time table to worry about, so the sooner you can get those started, the sooner you can head out.”

Hunter nodded. “Then that’s our next stop.”

You smile at the Captain standing off to the side. “Will you be escorting us this time, Captain?”

He grins at you. “Sadly, no, there’s other business requiring my attention - but this mouse droid will take you where you need to go.” A droid moves forward from a corner and chirps, rolling towards the door.

“Your majesty,” the Commander pulls your attention back. “Selfish of me to ask, I know, but while you’re aboard would you do me the honor of joining me for a meal? I love my brothers, but sometimes I need more… feminine company.” He furtively glances at your squad and winks at you. HAH. So he could see what was going on.

You try to keep your grin from being too knowing. “I would be delighted, sir.”

“Good, I look forward to it.” He turns to the now strangely tense squad. “Thanks again, boys. Dismissed.”

You all salute before heading out the doors, following behind the tiny droid humming along.

Crosshair strides up next to you angrily. “What was that?”

Wrecker comes up to your left. “Yeah, did he just ask you to dinner? Like a DATE?”

You smirk internally. “No, you two, he’s not interested in women. He just wants a break from being surrounded by men. I know the feeling.”

“Oh.” Wrecker says, taking this in. “Wait, so is the Captain, uh, like that too?

“No... He was just so nice before, I wouldn’t mind his company.” You try to keep your answer innocent enough.

You might have fluttered your lashes a little too much. He grins and scoops you up with one arm, making you squeal. “What are you up to, babe?”

You smile down at him, nuzzling his face. “Just following orders.”

Hunter’s voice breaks the moment. “Wrecker, put her down. Now.”

"AWWWWOOOOoooooOOO!" You scowl over at him as Wrecker groans, setting you back on the floor. “Fine.”

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

Arriving at the medbay is simple enough - getting the attention of one of the clones is harder. It’s a bit chaotic, for a medbay, and you’re barely even acknowledged as the moments drag by.

You sidle up to Hunter, handing him your helmet. “I’ve got this, Sarge,” you say in a deeper, serious voice, like you’re wading into the trenches. He eyes you suspiciously as you walk towards a trooper with his face in a microscope, putting a little sway in your hips. Yes, Hunter can watch you 'handle it'.

The table is up to your waist- so you lean over it. You prop yourself up by your elbows, your chin resting on the back of one hand. You can't help but grin, thinking of your boys staring at your ass while you flirt with someone else.

“Excuse me, trooper.”

The man before you looks up quickly, pulled from his work. “Oh, uh, ma'am, uh, hello, I’m sorry I was in my only little world there.”

You smile good-naturedly. “I know the feeling. What are you inspecting?”

“Oh, uh, the reactions of the antibodies we have between a bunch of our vaccines. Since there are several we need for upcoming missions, we want to administer as many as possible without overloading the immune system. Well, a clone immune system. Non-clones are a different story, of course. Though, with the information we gain from clone genetics, perhaps there is a way to include something else in the inoculation to bolster the non-clone immune system while it processes multiple vaccines at once, which would- Oh, uh, I’m sor-”

“Which would save the average non-clone quite a bit of money, if not just another trip to a physician,” you smile, your heart warming towards him. “That’s such a wonderful way to use your access to knowledge. On behalf of nat-borns everywhere, I thank you.”

He beams with gratitude and chuckles. “Just doin’ my duty, ma’am.” You watch as he takes you all in, a bashfulness falling over him at your positioning. He clears his throat. “So, uh, what can I help you with?”

“My squad and I are looking to get our inoculations, and you looked like the man to see, so…”

“Oh, yes! The Saila III mission.” He pauses, glancing at you with confusion. “You’re with the 99?”

You sigh dramatically. “Yes. Someone has to keep those boys in line.” You let your eyes roam over his waiting slides. “Sometimes I wish I could just stay in a lab, find a good partner and focus on helping others. I’m a little envious of you,”

You see him swallow out of the corner of your eye. Flirtation: success. “I know the feeling.”

You look back at him with a coy smile, letting the moment drag on just a bit until: “So, trooper, those inoculations?”

“Oh! Right.” He quickly turns to his computer. “We can start with the first set now, their side effects are relatively mild.” He reaches below the tabletop, pulling out three hand-length boxes and pushing them towards you. “In one standard rotation, depending on your bodies’ reactions, we should be able to do the next batch. Though with a nat-born… this may take a bit longer than anticipated…” he frowns in thought, calculating timelines and reviewing requirements on his screen. “Twice the time. We’ll need you all to stay aboard and under supervision for at least four days.”

“Four?” You blink in surprise, remembering the briefing. “Does the Commander know this?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have my S.O. send him a report.” He looks at you, in his element. “We’ll see what we can do to get you out promptly - I know what you’re doing is important. We don’t want to hold you back, we just want to make sure you aren’t handicapped out on the field.”

You genuinely smile at the slight mirror of yourself. “I know the feeling. What’s your name?”

He blinks in surprise, the bashful returning. “Theo.”

“Theo.” You take him in, standing up and tapping lightly on the table. “Thank you, Theo. We’ll settle in and wait for further orders. I’m sure I’ll see you again.” You take the three boxes in hand and, with a winsome smile in his direction, turn and head back to your squad-

-who are all staring at you in varying states of “wtf”. Confusion, interest, jealousy, irritation, and amusement.

You internally preen. Perfect.

“Our timeline has been extended.”

Hunter hands you back your helmet. “What do you mean?”

You set it, your pack, and the boxes down on a free examination table and start setting up one dose of the first vaccine. “Apparently to properly inoculate all of us, we, well, mostly I, need to be under observation for four days to keep an eye on our symptoms.” You click the first syringe into your injector gun. “Who’s first?”

Crosshair steps forward angrily, taking the chance to get close to you. “Is that ALL he said?” he hisses, clearly having trouble reigning in his contempt. You ignore him, moving his undershirt aside to administer the dose.

“He said one standard rotation per dose, at least for clone bodies, and that’s for the 3 types of vaccines the Commander said we’d need.” You load in the next vaccine for Crosshair, applying it to the other side of his neck.

“That timeline suggests you will need them every other rotation.” Tech takes a moment to note the time and enter something into his data pad. “Excellent. Then we will need the barracks they’ve assigned to us for longer than intended.”

“And something to EAT!” Wrecker says as you lock in the next vaccine. “C’mon little droid, take us to some FOOD.”

“Not yet, Wrecker,” you smile, injecting Crosshair’s third shot and waving the gun at him. “First thing’s first. And you’re next.”

His face drops. “AAWWWoooooooOOOOH! I HATE shots!”

________________________________________________

The little mouse droid beeps an encouragement as you exit the med bay and head down the hall, all of you following in slight formation.

Hunter hangs back, cornering you the best way he can (you know, while walking out in the open).

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You blink at him sweetly. “Following orders.”

Oh, he’s not pleased with that answer. “I said to act like a regular squad, not flirt with every trooper you see.”

You drop the act, letting yourself speak plainly. “No, you said ‘find a way to get through it'. So I am. I WANT to be flirting with all of you, but I’ll make do with a few regs for now.” You look forward again. “Just trying to be good for you, Sergeant.”

“Hooo…” he shakes his head, almost chuckling in his frustration. “If you keep this up…”

You look at him again. “You’ll what? Punish me for following orders? You know what I say about ‘natural consequences', Hunter.” You make sure to meet his eyes. “Next time, Sergeant, be more specific. Or even better, lets talk about it and come up with something together. You know, like partners.”

He slows to a stop, letting you continue on. A quick glance behind shows he’s pensive - he’s heard you. You nod to yourself, satisfied as you move to catch up with your boys in time to enter the mess.

The hall was busy, but not packed. Clones littered the tables in crews of 2 or 3, with a whole squad taking up a table here and there. You catch some of them glancing curiously at your crew before ducking in to whispers, but the air was far from hostile.

Hm. That was a nice change.

“Alright, I’m starving!” Wrecker led the charge on the food line, the rest of you following.

The fare is good (for ship life), and you take your favorites, finishing just before Tech. Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair have already claimed a table in the back, but you’re headed somewhere else today. You start to head towards a table just to the right of them.

“Where are you going?” Tech’s tone is curious more than anything.

You turn to him, your head indicating your destination. “To sit with some new faces.”

“That is out of the ordinary. As is much of your behavior today,” he observes thoughtfully, eyes searching your face. “What is your objective? Are you feeling alright?”

“Why, Tech,” you smile, batting your eyelashes. “I’m just following orders.”

You wink and spin on your heel, heading towards trouble, Crosshair’s glare burning into your shoulder blades.

You sidle up to the table. “Do you mind if I join you, boys?”

The table falls quiet.

The clone closest to you, sporting a GAR tattoo on his neck, blinks, glancing at his squad mates and then back to you “Uh…us? Really?”

The one across from him, shaved bald with an intricate pattern tattooed across his scalp, glances over at your squad and back to you. “What about the, uh… what about your squad?” You can hear a bit of a smirk in there. “Get into a fight?”

You glance behind you, feigning confusion. “What? Oh no, I see them all the time, sometimes I just need a change of company, you know? Hear some new stories, get 'the gos' circling around.”

“Really? Well, we’ve got some ‘good gos’ about- OW!” GAR tattoo glares across the table at bald tattoo, rubbing his calf underneath the table.

Bald tattoo keeps his eyes on you. “Sure… that makes sense. Guess not all natborns are used to keeping the same company.” He winces a bit. “Oh, uh, excuse me, ma’am-”

You sit down with a chuckle, leaning on one hand. “Trooper, I’m not some shiny. I know what a natborn is.”

He chuckles, and the entire table seems to relax. “Fair enough.” He reaches out his hand. “The names Dorn.”

You take it. “A pleasure, Dorn.”

And you’re in.

_________________________________________________________

Hunter sits down amidst a squad in chaos.

Crosshair’s hiss is barely understandable through his clenched teeth. “What does she mean she’s following orders?”

Tech digs his fork into his food, thoughtful rather than perturbed. “I am not entirely sure. She did not elaborate before heading in that direction.”

Wrecker is so confused he hasn’t touched his food. “So we don’t even know what orders she’s following?”

Echo looks over at Hunter’s face, knowing eyes putting it together. “You know what she’s talking about.”

Hunter sighs as he picks up his carb, breaking it in half before looking over to where you’re laughing with the Commander’s boys. It all made sense now. Alright, he can acknowledge he had some growing to do. He got your point. Didn’t mean he liked the way you taught it to him.

“I got a com from Cody, said to be careful the way we act around the regs. Command was getting wind of our arrangement, was afraid they’d come asking questions.” He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he takes a bite of his bread. “I told her to take it easy today, act like a normal squad. She wasn’t happy, I told her to find a way through it, she asked if that was an order."

Echo smirks. “And you said yes.”

“Fell right into her trap,” Hunter acknowledged, shaking his head. “Just told me her way of getting through is flirting with the regs instead of us. She’s trying to teach me a lesson, but she’s probably using the chance to tease all of you at the same time.”

“Ah, yes,” Tech returns to eating, “and in a way that we are unable to react without causing suspicion. I am impressed.”

“I’m not.” Wrecker grumbles. “Just want to carry her off and mark her up. See if those regs flirt with her when they see she’s taken.”

Hunter’s intellect perks up; That’s right - HE couldn’t punish you for following orders, but Crosshair and the others could for causing trouble. He smirks to himself. Well, he could find loopholes, too.

“Crosshair.”

The Sniper side eyes him.

“You warned her what happens when she’s a tease?”

Crosshair nods slightly.

“And would you boys all agree that she’s being a tease?”

Wrecker frowns. “OH yeah.”

Tech adjusts his goggles. “I believe I would agree with that, yes.”

“Then it looks like we’re in for an interesting night. Crosshair, you’re the lead on this. Got any ideas?”

Crosshair’s eyes slink back to you, a satisfied smirk slowly settling in. “Oh, do I.”

_______________________________________________

The Core boys are a good bunch. They have you genuinely laughing- and maaaaybe you amp it up a little bit, throw in some general, harmless flirting every now and then? You get a few blushes, but neither side is forward enough to risk any misunderstandings. All in all, just fun.

You glance over to the squad to see the havoc you’ve wrought: oh, bliss. Crosshair is glaring absolute DAGGERS at you, Hunter is shaking his head, and Echo is slowly starting to get it. The next time… they’re heads are together in a huddle, with Hunter’s listening-to-strategy face peering at you.

Uh oh.

“...by the C-quad always catches it, so he couldn’t-”

You turn back to Tor, the republic tattoo. “The C-quad?”

Dorn laughs. “That's what we call Commander Core and Captain Case. Four Cs, C quad. Much easier.”

You grin. “I get it, clever.”

You’re pulled back into the conversation with your tablemates for several more minutes until a slight shadow falls over you- Echo has made his way over. You glance at where he was sat to see that the rest of the batch has left already.

“Excuse me, brothers, I’ve come to claim our medic.” He looks at you with an amused ‘alright, play time’s over’ look on his face. “Joining us, your majesty?”

You give a dramatic sigh. “If I must. Pardon me boys, my subjects need me.” You stand and gather your dishes with a smile. “It’s been a pleasure.”

They all say goodbye kindly enough- but you don’t miss the curious looks they shoot between you and Echo.

You deposit your plates and head out of the mess hall.

“Good meal?” you smile at him.

He chuckles, shifting his helmet under his arm. “Any meal that isn’t ration bars is a win to me.”

You love his laugh. Then you remember your ‘uh oh’ moment. “What were you all talking about?”

“Our upcoming mission.” He looks over at you, amused. “How about you? Had some fun?”

You feel the blush, refusing to feel guilty. “Of course. Always nice to make new friends.” You glance at him curiously. “You were…ok with that?”

“Hm.” He glances at you with another amused smirk before looking forward again. “We’ll talk about it when we get to the barracks.”

Hm… interesting…?

You arrive at an unimpressive door and Echo enters in the keycode. The door whisks open to your quarters for the evening, revealing a fairly large room, all things considered - about half the size of the squad’s room on Kamino. There are 6 beds, two on each of the three walls, one on top, the other below, with standard gray GAR bedding. A large table takes up the center of the room, Hunter sitting at the head, arms crossed, and Wrecker sitting on his right, grinning from ear to ear. You look over them both, not sure what to expect.

As you look around for the others, Echo gestures at your back.

“Pack?”

Well, he can’t be THAT angry with you, then. “Thanks Echo.” You take off your pack and hand it over to him. Glancing back, Wrecker’s grin has only widened.

Hmph. Your hands perch on your hips.

“Alright, Wrecker, what are you boys up to?”

You feel, rather than hear, the whisper by your ear.

“We should be asking you the same question, princess.”

Crosshair’s arm encircles the both of yours, pulling them behind your back, his free hand sliding up to your throat. “You have some serious groveling to do.”

You feel your arousal overtaken with surprise. “Cross- what are you-”

He lightly squeezes your neck, just enough to get your attention. “You were told what being a brat gets you. Teased and tormented, remember?”

The fire lit inside you is too good to regret. “I-I was just following orders,” you look to Hunter, “right Sergeant?”

Hunter chuckles under his breath. “Hmph. Sure, you were following mine. But they don’t see it that way, do they?”

Oh that bastard. Well played. You gulp against the hand over your throat.

“See princess, Hunter might not be able to punish you,” Crosshair hisses in your ear. “But the rest of us can. And I’ll be showing them how to punish you properly.”

Wait, is this… ALL of them are going to do this? Together? At ONCE?? You can’t help it - you whimper.

“Getting the picture?” Crosshair smirks. “And in case you feel like continuing to be a tease, Hunter is going to sit right there and make sure you take your punishment - or you’re sleeping on the Marauder. Alone.”

Hunter leans forward, making sure you’re keeping eye contact with him.

“You understand, trooper?”

Your voice is a squeak against Crosshair's grip. “Y-yes, sir.”

He finally allows a smug smirk, leaning back to watch. “Remember, your word is meiloorun.”

Kriffing sith hells, here it goes.

____________________________________________________________

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