#Mature fic

[kriimhild]

idiots in dynamic

The sillies from Dusk Lounge (Mature fic!)

[goteique]

| THAW + GAKU. 

+cw. — fem!reader, biker au, biker!gaku, biker!nagumo, uzuki, akira, kashimo are mentioned, background uzurion & taroaoi; no fluff or smut so idk what to mention except, heavy pining, tension, first meet, and flirting. Will there be more? Lets see? 

+wc. —1.2k 

+syn.— oya? A new face in town? A new trophy to win? Perhaps. . .

+notes. — thought too much about biker!gaku while listening to Tough by l d ray and now i’m here.| redirect to blog navigation.

Gaku always ties his ace hand bandages on both hands all by himself while the spectators watch him do it, slowly surrounding him like a bevy of stars, boys and girls alike thinking what if he needs help, what if he picks one of them but he never picks someone from the crowd to do it. It is a holy ritual for him, a gesture of good luck before he secures a win against the rival gang but tonight as he spots a new face among the crowd and that too in the rival gang he can not help but wonder who might you be! 

He sees you hiding behind one of the top bikers in the rival gang, Rion Akao clutching onto her arms like it is a last stick in the sea to survive, eyes lingering all over the place with a downpour of worry and fear. Why did Akao-san bring you here? Or were you that curious that she could not dismiss your demand? Did you throw a tantrum? Oh my my! Are you the tantrum-thrower type? Kei who is standing by his side notices how Gaku’s hand movements have ceased while doing his silly habit for what he calls “a holy ritual.” 

He nudges Gaku’s elbow saying, “Oye focus.”

“Huh?” was all Gaku yielded from his chest looking at Kei and then looking at you asking, “Who’s that? Never seen her before.”

“That’s Rion. You truly need those eyes to get checked.” While Geku’s eyes still watch you from the gaps of the crowd, his eyebrows pinch at first; then he turns his head towards Uzuki exclaiming with a tone of taunt laced underneath, “Really now! You have eyes only for Rion-san but no one else, huh?” as he leans over the engine of his bike and everyone in the crowd vocally swoons in unison at his stance which certainly makes you notice that particular crowd surrounding a biker on the opposite side of the road.

Uzuki’s eyes go flat like a heart monitor of a dying patient. He can’t put up with this now! Literally can’t.Not again. The visible annoyance on his face does not go unnoticed by Gaku and hence, he decides to salt and pepper it as the announcement starts to blare, “Everyone! clear the path. The race is going to start soon. Everyone! clear the path The race. . .”

Today’s crowd is not that rowdy so Kashimo does not have to hurt his throat and lungs much. Sometimes he has to take medicine but that happens on special days, like when there is a race match between Taro and Uzuki. 

As the crowd disperses, Nagumo gets ready for his race against Gaku. The former holds his helmet in his hands as Rion whispers in his ears. Nagumo laughs as Rion steps away with a serious expression while he laughs before stating,” Sure. Sure. I will take her on a ride for sure,” looking at you. 

“I will not wear a helmet though.” You demand. One of Nagumo’s eyebrows jumps; not that Nagumo is reluctant to your choice yet feels the urge to look at Rion. Her expression does not help him much. 

“No. can’t do. Safety first lady.”  Nagumo chimes.

Now the road is occupied by the two bikers who are about to race against each other. Most of the crowd had stepped back to the pavement alongside the road. Gaku still has not completed his ace bandage, which is spotted from where Kashimo is announcing. He was just about to ping Uzuki about it but things take an unexpected turn.

Standing among the crowd, you laugh at Nagumo’s silly antics while Rion scolds him. Gaku glances at Kei before he extends his arm towards the other side of the road. The unified commotion of the crowd dissipates gradually as you finally lay eyes on him. You see the guy opposite Nagumo swallowing, the movement of his Adam’s apple is painfully visible. It takes a while for everyone to understand who is he pointing at.

Rion and Kei exchange looks. While Kei lets his fingers skim through his hair in disbelief a smile tugs up along Rion’s lips. “Go on. He is harmless,” says she swatting her hand making your lithe grip let loose. You look at Aoi who is standing beside Taro holding his hand because Rion saying ‘harmless’ is not the kind of gauging you can easily rely on. Aoi smiles at you while Taro just nods. Now, what’s that supposed to mean? You look at the biker on the opposite side of the road who is still waiting, extending his hand out towards you. 

You sigh, just once but with the silence that got clustered in this place within a few minutes your sigh sure sounds heavy. You cross the road, stand in front of Gaku, and grace him with a two-second eye contact before holding those dangling bandages. You tilt your head and inspect. There is not much to be done, except wrapping the tape around his fingers and the thumb part has already been done. It is a good thing that you knew otherwise it would be so embarrassing. Maybe he would instruct you or show you how to do it on one of his hands so that you could do the other. You secure the wrapping with the velcro ends it had. Your ears pick up a question, “Are you new around here?”

Gaku gives you his other hand with a tape coming out of his pocket. You look at him with a surprise washing over your face, lips visibly apart as your eyebrows pinch. Is this guy for real? “No. Not really,” you say inserting the loop over his thumb. You need a sort of support to achieve the tight binding it demands. A part of you wants to avoid any sort of skin contact not because he is a stranger or an acquaintance of an acquaintance but because you would like your boundaries to be protected. So, you scoot forward a little letting his fingertips rest on the leather jacket yours,  the left side where your heart resides, while holding his wrist that has already been wrapped. You start to wrap the tape around his wrist then diagonally when Gaku notices how even your heart beats. It makes him nervous. 

“What will you be doing after this race?” Your movement pauses for like two seconds and then you continue. “Are you free?” Gaku can feel your heart rate. It is not calm anymore. You tie around his knuckles, then move to wrap in between his fingers one by one taking your time while the grip on his wrist grows firm. You can feel his pulse too. It is throbbing like an old light in the attic.

“Am not,” you utter, sticking the two ends of velcro one over the other. Glancing at him once you get back to the other side of the road getting behind Rion like you did before but this time not holding her hand or Akiras who is smiling and giving you looks. 

“That was an odd display of . . . affection?” The mike is alive again. Gaku looks like he just has his pants. 

“You really need to teach him some manners Kei.”  Gaku voiced. 

Uzuki lets out a chuckle offering the most humble response, “Now why would I do that?”

[adrixagr]

Another drawing for the fanfic Pretty Boy Snuff Film💜 @freshairforrabbits

[flusteredfools]

We Can Serve You Better, Than They Can (Nsfw)

Royal Guard Sun/Moon x Royal Highness Y/N

Summary:

It wasn’t your fault, none of it was but you were the one who was punished and both Sir Sun and Sir Moon hated that. It was the King’s affair with the Sorcerer that caused your unfortunate fate. He played with the wrong heart, made too many promises with no intent to keep them; and you, kind, sensitive, beautiful, youngest of seven royal children, last in line to the throne, originally the King’s favorite child, you took the punishment. A curse of lust, only to be cured by someone who truly loves you for more than what lies skin deep filling you up entirely; true love, they scoff. Every day as the sun sets, your body lights with an inner fire, every touch you feel feels hundreds times more sensitive to you and you yearn and beg for someone to hold you, fill you and ease the flames you feel burning inside. In the King’s attempt to keep his secret and your curse hidden, he built you your own annex; a few trusted servants, staff and just you, furthest away from everyone else until you were able to find your true love and lift the curse. 

Tried my best to keep it Gender Neutral and wouldn't you know writing smut is harder that way XD

[kuromori4]

Fic authors self-rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! <3<3

Oh wow! I don't know how I missed this in my asks! Woops!

Is this for published fics only? Because at least 2 of my fav fics I ever wrote are yet to be published! (Complete or almost complete)

Ashes to Ashes- In an unfortunate twist of fate, Chat Noir ends up facing Monarch alone, and it ends very badly. Watch as it slowly destroys him. (Trauma is my middle name!) Marinette tries to figure out what the hell is going on. (Twisty and emotional, this fic is a bit of a wild ride. I've been told by readers that it's quite intense! And of course, I have to agree.) Read it here!

The Grove- Ladybug and Chat Noir spend seemingly peaceful days in an idyllic paradise that she created just for him. (Hard to talk about without spoiling it, but it's dark, bleak and depressing. But this for sure rests in my top 3 fav fics I've ever written. Emotional is a good word for it.) Read it here!

Friends who Kiss- Follows the Reverse kids after the Paris special, trying to figure out how to get along and be good guys. (Spoiler, they aren't very good at it) (Also admittedly, this one's 2 parts and I love them both. The sequel is called No more Friends who Kiss, and is linked in this fic) Read it here!

The First of Many Nights- (Mature fic) This is a oneshot where post-reveal Adrienette enjoy a very special romantic night on a private beach under a starry sky. I just love how sweet and romantic the whole thing is. <3 Read it here! (This is rated M for Mature! You have been warned.)

Sympathy Pain- (Mature fic) Ladybug and Chat Noir have always shared a magical connection. However, when they start to feel their magical connection on a more physical level, things start to get a little heated. (Or: Unknowingly, Ladybug and Chat Noir begin to feel each other's pain. And their pleasure!) Absolutely packed full of relationship drama and tension galore! (This one isn't published yet, but I had to put it on the list because I'm just so in love with this story, haha. Coming soon! (Or so I keep saying) it's been sitting at about 90% finished and begging me to wrap it up! (Life has been lifeing though)

Honorable mention: I'm working on a (Mature, and very dark) Enemies AU series and part 1 is done, and part 2-5 are planned out. And boy, I am so enamored with this AU! It doesn't have a title yet though, and I don't want to post part 1 until I have a title for the series.

I don't know many authors very well to tag! I'll tag @fandomofone for sure, and @chatnia-starlight. But I'm leaving this open to anyone else who wants to jump in, especially/including everyone I've met on this year's MLB Big Bang!

[queenendless]

🔞💝——— MUTUAL GIFTING ———💝🔞

A/n: PAID COMMISSION for @sacredwarrior88

Persona 3 Reload. Akihiko x OC. Short smut piece.

SUMMARY: Vacationing at a lovely resort with the S.E.E.S. crew finally gave the pair the chance to get away after having their intimacy getting interrupted one too many times. The footsie game underneath their velvety red clothed table at the resort restaurant the pair was at to have a celebratory birthday dinner escalated, leading to the beach ...

The dark waves cascaded along the sandy beach shores that night. The moonlight sheen on his flushed heaving chest trembled as he pressed a quivering fist to his biting lips, muffling his loud groans. “Hnh– Veronica – MNGH~!” Her deliberately spilled sweets drink was licked up by her sizzling tongue. Tasting the cool creaminess on his lean firm dips and curves as she traversed downwards. Pouring the rest of her drink along his now freed erectness just to suck the sugary thickness off herself sent jolts throughout his entire laying being. “Oh fuck~!” Thrusting his hips stuffe himself further in her suckling mouth until he unloaded hard, white thickness dripping down her chin. “Mmh~ Aki~!” Straddling him, riding him with that aroused expression on her face had him bucking harder. Bouncing up and down his pulsing girth. Running her manicured fingers through his soft hair, she pulled his head in close enough for them to engage in a tongue full kiss, his taste mixing in with her own. Using the momentum to sit up on the towel, he cradled her head in kind. Skin smacking. Moans eaten. Cum dumping. “Happy birthday, baby.” Akihiko smiled endearingly. “Likewise, baby.” Veronica returned that smile.

[sineadrivka]

Held Open

Preview!

Ship: Dinobot/Reader

Mature: ambiguous gender, 2nd person present tense POV

Rough Draft

He stares at you, nostrils flaring at the scent of what he had interrupted.

Fuck.

The massive Utahraptor takes slow steps, soundless, inevitably closing the distance until he stands two feet away. Gooseflesh raised on your arms, frozen mid-motion. You can see the flutter of his nostrils, taking in the scent of you, and realize that you’ve been well and fully caught red-handed. A feathered crest threatens to lift and show his emotions, but you catch the sight of his tail, and somehow manage to not compare it to how a cat’s would mimic a pipecleaner in shock. (He wouldn’t appreciate it in this setting, nope.)

“Tempting feast you have laid for me.”

Your mouth opens, closes, and you realize that there is nothing to say. He’s right. You’re bare as the day you were born, blankets a rumpled mess at the foot of your bed, legs spread, and already starting to sweat with your rising self-pleasure. You know you’re blushing down to the middle of your sternum, and you also know that he has enjoyed watching you (smelling you?) flush with emotions over the last month.

“Did you want me or is there another you desire that drives you so?” he rumbles, the last syllables little more than a hiss.

You shake your head, nod, shake it again, then whine.

“Speak, human.”

“You. O-only you.”

“Mmm. Good pet.”

[kringletheelf04]

I’m utterly in love with you (smut)

(Chapter 14 of two souls entwined in the North Pole)

Afab version

"I'm so lucky to have you as my soulmate." Bernard says brushing his hand against mine as we make our way down the hallway.

We make it to my room and I open the door, locking it behind us. Dragging us to bed, I make him drop my suitcase. I don't care. All I care about is being here, with him. Pulling him onto my bed I pull my hat off and set it on the side table. I kick my shoes off and he takes his shoes and hat off as well.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever known." I say, linking our hands.

"Cara Mia!" He takes my face in his hands.

"I love you." I smile.

"And I love you." He says pulling me into a passionate kiss.

My hands go to his hair and entangle themselves in it. His tongue swipes my lower lip and I happily oblige. His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan gently. One of my hands leaves his hair and trails the tip of his ear. He damn near completely gives out to me. Moaning softly, one hand goes to caress my back. I pull away.

"Is everything ok? We can stop if you need to." He whispers.

"Everything's perfect. I'm afraid I'll wake up any moment to this not being real. I'm utterly in love with you. And if this is real, which I hope it is, I'm ready to take the next step. With you." I barely make out.

"Oh (Y/n)!" He cries, his lips going to my neck.

Gently sucking on the tender skin, I can feel his teeth nip.

"You'll leave a mark." I moan out.

"Good, I want them to know you're mine." He growls.

"Just wait a moment." I say gently pushing him.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Stop asking that. I'll tell you if something's wrong. And things couldn't be more right here." I say.

And in one quick movement my top is on the floor. Standing up I quickly unbutton my pants. Dropping them to the ground, I climb back onto the bed.

"You're beautiful." He gasps awestruck.

"You're the most handsome man I've ever met." I say capturing his lips in mine.

He kisses back hungry. Like a man that's been starved for days. His hand snakes it's way behind me and undoes my bra in one swift movement. Pulling away he tears his shirt off, throwing it to the ground. Like it was keeping me away from him, he pulls his pants down and in one swift motion we are both in our underwear. My bra hangs on by just the straps.

"I'm ashamed. I'm sure I'm not as pretty or attractive as your soulmate should be." I say looking at the floor.

"You're perfect." He says taking my hands in his.

Pulling away, I toss my bra onto a nearby chair. His hands go to my tits, thumbs brushing my nipples. I bite my lip to suppress a moan. I pull him onto the bed and he kneels over me. His eyes roams over my exposed figure, lingering at my nipples. They stick out from the cold and previous stimulation. His eyes lock with mine and I nod.  In a split second his mouth meets my nipple. Gently sucking on one of them, he rubs the other one with the pad of his thumb. My back arches into the bed as I let out a loud moan. He looks at me, not detaching himself. In fact, his tongue circles my nipple and he sucks harder.

"Please!" I cry out.

He released my teased nipple from his mouth and grins at me. "Please what? Come on princess, use your words." He teases, thumbs now rubbing both my nipples.

"More! Need more!" I cry.

My clit is throbbing and I feel like I've absolutely soaked through my panties.

"See. I knew you could do it." He smirks.

His hands trail down my frame to my underwear. His thumb rubs me through the layers.

"My, my, look what we have here. Is this all for me?" He asks.

"For you! Only for you!" I cry, begging for stimulation.

"Why you've made a mess of these, better get them out of the way then." He says, and in one swift motion my underwear are in his hands. His cock throbs through his boxers.

"So wet for me already." He grins, spreading my pussy lips open.

"I know you want this now, but can you hand me your bag?" He asks.

I nod dumbly and reach for my bag. Handing it to him he pulls out a small bag. He opens it and slips something onto his thumb, setting the bags back onto the floor.

"This, is something I've made especially with you in mind." He says.

"What is it?" My voice trembles.

"Well, why don't you lay back and find out?" He asks, pushing me back onto the bed.

A light buzzing can be heard as he clicks a button. I realize it's a vibrator. It's small, but no doubt powerful. I spread my legs and he slips between my thighs. His thumb gently massaging my clit sends waves of pleasure through me. His middle and ring finger slip inside my pussy. Slowly at first, then faster he moves his fingers in an upward motion. Suddenly he stops, just as I'm about to reach my high.

"Can I?" He asks.

"Can you what?" I whine.

"Can I taste you? Please?" He gives me a puppy look.

I nod and he moves down. Taking off the vibrator and handing it to me he props my thighs onto his shoulders. Licking a strip from my hole to my clit, he moans.

"Oh my—!"I cry out.

He takes my clit into his mouth and sucks gently on it. I'm not sure I'm gonna make it. My hips rise off of his shoulders momentarily, but he forces me back down. Stoping the sucking, he licks rapidly at my clit. He knows. I'm not gonna last long like this.

"Bernard!" I moan loudly.

His fingers go back into me and as he licks he fingers me. A wave washes over me and I know I'm gonna cum. Pushing his head down, I cum hard and he laps it up. He comes back up and gasps lightly. His cock is at attention. The outline of it makes my mouth water.

"May I?" I ask tugging at his waistband.

He pulls me into a kiss and I can taste myself on his mouth. I palm his cock through his boxers and he moans into me. I flip us around so he's on the bottom.

"Please. It's my first time." He pleads.

"Mine too. But I'm all yours." I grin.

"And I'm yours." He nods.

Pulling off his boxers and throwing them on the floor I take in the glory that is his cock. Precum glistens on the tip and oozes. He's big, but not too big. Maybe seven inches. He's girthy though. Biting my lip, I bend down to it and place a gentle kiss on the tip, my hand not able to reach all the way around it.

"Cara Mia!" He moans.

Gently pumping it, the tip gets more flushed. He's practically melting under my touch and I haven't barely done anything yet. I lick the slit and his breath hitches.

"Please!" He nearly cries.

Taking him into my mouth, my hand pumps what can't fit. Bobbing my head, I start slow. Giving him time to adjust I pick up the pace. He's a moaning mess under me. Just as I'm about to come up, his hands reach into my hair and pushes me down. I gag slightly, but I can take it. His hands guide me up and down. Soon a gurgled sound comes from him and he cums hard into my mouth. It's sweeter than I expected, probably from the candy diet. I swallow and come back up.

"I'm so sorry!" He apologizes.

"It's okay!" I assure him.

That made me even more horny though. I need to know how he feels in me. Squeezing my thighs together, I shift on the bed.

"That's a relief." He sighs.

"Can I—?" I cut myself off.

"Can you what?" He asks.

"Can I— ride you?" I ask bashfully.

"What's that?" He asks, tilting his head.

"You know what a vibrator is, but don't know what riding is?" I ask.

"This is my first time." He shrugs.

"It's when I climb on top of you." I explain briefly.

He doesn't respond, but picks me up and brings me down where my legs are on either side of him and my pussy rests on his chest.

"So yes?" I ask.

"Absolutely." He nods.

I'm already so wet I don't need lube. Lowering myself onto his cock, we both gasp.

"You're so... warm," he groans.

I hover a minute when he grabs my hips and forces my down hard.

"(Y/n)!" He moans loudly.

"Oh!" I gasp.

Slowly I start rolling my hips. He's big enough where he doesn't need to move much to hit all the right spots. After a few moments, I start to bounce up and down on his cock. His hands hold me steady as I go down harder and harder. I lift up almost off of it and slam my pussy down hard onto his cock and he melts under me.

"Please (Y/n)!" He cries, tears of pleasure leaking from his eyes.

Judging by his reaction he's about to orgasm.  I speed up, bouncing up and down and soon he takes over slamming me down onto his throbbing member. With a cry, he cums in me. Warmth fills my cavern but I continue riding out his high.

"Use me!" He cry's out.

"Oh honey, I will." I moan out.

His hand goes to my clit and he starts rubbing circles into it. I can feel my own orgasm building as his second is.

"More please!" I cry as he presses harder, rougher circles into my already throbbing clit.

His cum makes a great lube. Impaling myself over and over again on him, I am almost to bursting from pleasure. Soon I orgasm hard and cum just as hard as he did all over his cock and onto the sheets. His orgasm is mere moments later, but I continue riding him. I never want him to not be in me.  Riding out his high, I chase my second. He stops me.

"How bout we switch, beautiful?" He grins and in a split second I'm laying down with him on top of me.

"Please! Bernard! I need you back in me!" I cry.

And in one quick movement he's inside me. I gasp, he feels even bigger from this angle, if possible. He pounds into me hard and fast. Moaning, I throw my head back. His thumb ghosts over my puffy clit. He circles it gently clockwise. His lips attach to mine and I slip my tongue into his mouth with a moan. I explore every inch of his mouth with my tongue. He goes even faster if possible. Grunting, he moans.

The vibrator is back on his finger and at my clit. Vibrations go through my body and I arch my back. I can feel my orgasm building and he must know it because he's going unbearably slow now.

"Please!" I plead.

"Please what, princess?" He smirks knowingly.

"Please make me cum, sir!" I cry.

"As you wish." He grins.

He grinds down onto me harder. I cum hard. He starts to pull out when I stop him.

"Darling, what are you doing? I'm about to-" he starts as I cut him off.

"In me." I breath.

"What?" He asks.

"Cum in me. I need you!" I wrap my legs around him.

"If you say so." He shrugs and continues pounding into me.

Cumming hard, he groans. Warm semen coats my walls and I groan.  Pulling out, his cum paints my thighs a glittery mess.

"Can I clean you up?" I ask.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

I nod and take him into my mouth with one swift motion.

"I didn't think you meant this!" He gasps.

I lick his gorgeous cock clean. I rise up and he pulls me into a soft kiss.

"I love you." He sighs into my shoulder.

"I'm tired." I breath.

"I'm sure you are now!" Bernard jokes.

"Can we take care of this tomorrow?" I ask.

"Of course darling." He says pulling pajama pants on and handing me a pair.

"You better take a shower though." He says.

"I should." I say, nearly collapsing trying to get out of bed.

"Let me help you. I shouldn't have been so rough with you!" He says, picking me up effortlessly.

"Oh!" I gasp.

He carries me to the toilet and sets me on it.

"I'll get you a washcloth instead." He shuffles out.

He comes back with a washcloth and runs it under some warm water. He kneels down and starts to wash his dried seed off of my thighs. After I'm all cleaned up, he carries me back to bed and lays me down. I pull him into bed with me.

"Stay."

"I will"

———————————————————————-

Amab version

"I'm so lucky to have you as my soulmate." Bernard says brushing his hand against mine as we make our way down the hallway.

We make it to my room and I open the door, locking it behind us. Dragging us to bed, I make him drop my suitcase. I don't care. All I care about is being here, with him. Pulling him onto my bed I pull my hat off and set it on the side table. I kick my shoes off and he takes his shoes and hat off as well.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever known." I say, linking our hands.

"Cara Mia!" He takes my face in his hands.

"I love you." I smile.

"And I love you." He says pulling me into a passionate kiss.

My hands go to his hair and entangle themselves in it. His tongue swipes my lower lip and I happily oblige. His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan gently. One of my hands leaves his hair and trails the tip of his ear. He damn near completely gives out to me. Moaning softly, one hand goes to caress my back. I pull away.

"Is everything ok? We can stop if you need to." He whispers.

"Everything's perfect. I'm afraid I'll wake up any moment to this not being real. I'm utterly in love with you. And if this is real, which I hope it is, I'm ready to take the next step. With you." I barely make out.

"Oh (Y/n)!" He cries, his lips going to my neck.

Gently sucking on the tender skin, I can feel his teeth nip.

"You'll leave a mark." I moan out.

"Good, I want them to know you're mine." He growls.

"Just wait a moment." I say gently pushing him.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Stop asking that. I'll tell you if something's wrong. And things couldn't be more right here." I say.

And in one quick movement my top is on the floor. Standing up I quickly unbutton my pants. Dropping them to the ground, I climb back onto the bed.

"You're beautiful." He gasps awestruck.

"You're the most handsome man I've ever met." I say capturing his lips in mine.

He kisses back hungry. Like a man that's been starved for days. Standing up abruptly, he tears his shirt off, throwing it to the ground. Like it was keeping me away from him, he pulls his pants down and in one swift motion we are both in our underwear.

"I'm ashamed. I'm sure I'm not as pretty or attractive as your soulmate should be." I say looking at the floor.

"You're perfect." He says taking my hands in his.

Pulling away, I take in his form. His hands go to my chest, thumbs brushing my nipples. I bite my lip to suppress a moan. I pull him onto the bed and he kneels over me. His eyes roams over my exposed figure, lingering at my nipples. They stick out from the cold and previous stimulation. His eyes lock with mine and I nod. In a split second his mouth meets my nipple. Gently sucking on one of them, he rubs the other one with the pad of his thumb. My back arches into the bed as I let out a loud moan. He looks at me, not detaching himself. In fact, his tongue circles my nipple and he sucks harder.

"Please!" I cry out.

He released my teased nipple from his mouth and grins at me. "Please what? Come on sir, use your words." He teases, thumbs now rubbing both my nipples

"More! Need more!" I cry.

My cock is throbbing and I feel like I've absolutely soaked through my boxers.

"See. I knew you could do it." He smirks.

His hands trail down my frame to my underwear. His thumb rubs my tip through the layers.

"My, my, look what we have here. Is this all for me?" He asks.

"For you! Only for you!" I cry, begging for stimulation.

"Why you've made a mess of these, better get them out of the way then." He says, and in one swift motion my underwear are in his hands. His cock throbs through his boxers.

"So hard for me already." He grins, palming my cock.

"I know you want this now, but can you hand me your bag?" He asks.

I nod dumbly and reach for my bag. Handing it to him he pulls out a small bag. He opens it and slips something onto his thumb, setting the bags back onto the floor.

"This, is something I've made especially with you in mind." He says.

"What is it?" My voice trembles.

"Well, why don't you lay back and find out?" He asks, pushing me back onto the bed.

A light buzzing can be heard as he clicks a button. I realize it's a vibrator. It's small, but no doubt powerful. I spread my legs and he slips between my thighs. His thumb gently massaging my tip sends waves of pleasure through me. His other hand begins to jerk me off. Slowly at first, then faster he moves his hand in an upward motion. Suddenly he stops, just as I'm about to reach my high.

"Can I?" He asks.

"Can you what?" I whine.

"Can I taste you? Please?" He gives me a puppy look.

I nod and he moves down. Taking off the vibrator and handing it to me he props my thighs onto his shoulders. Hollowing his cheeks, he takes me into his mouth as he moans.

"Oh my—!"I cry out.

He licks my slit and sucks gently on the tip of my cock. I'm not sure I'm gonna make it. My hips rise off of his shoulders momentarily, but he forces me back down. Stoping the sucking, he licks rapidly at my cock. He knows. I'm not gonna last long like this.

"Bernard!" I moan loudly.

His hand goes back to the base of my cock and he bobs up and down on the shaft. A wave washes over me and I know I'm gonna cum. Pushing his head down, I cum hard and he laps it up. He comes back up and gasps lightly. His cock is at attention. The outline of it makes my mouth water.

"May I?" I ask tugging at his waistband.

He pulls me into a kiss and I can taste myself on his mouth. I palm his cock through his boxers and he moans into me. I flip us around so he's on the bottom.

"Please. It's my first time." He pleads.

"Mine too. But I'm all yours." I grin.

"And I'm yours." He nods.

Pulling off his boxers and throwing them on the floor I take in the glory that is his cock. Precum glistens on the tip and oozes. He's big, but not too big. Maybe seven inches. He's girthy though. Biting my lip, I bend down to it and place a gentle kiss on the tip, my hand not able to reach all the way around it.

"Cara Mia!" He moans.

Gently pumping it, the tip gets more flushed. He's practically melting under my touch and I haven't barely done anything yet. I lick the slit and his breath hitches.

"Please!" He nearly cries.

Taking him into my mouth, my hand pumps what can't fit. Bobbing my head, I start slow. Giving him time to adjust I pick up the pace. He's a moaning mess under me. Just as I'm about to come up, his hands reach into my hair and pushes me down. I gag slightly, but I can take it. His hands guide me up and down. Soon a gurgled sound comes from him and he cums hard into my mouth. It's sweeter than I expected, probably from the candy diet. I swallow and come back up.

"I'm so sorry!" He apologizes.

"It's okay!" I assure him.

That made me even more horny though. I need to know how he feels in me. Squeezing my thighs together, I shift on the bed.

"That's a relief." He sighs.

"Can I—?" I cut myself off.

"Can you what?" He asks.

"Can I— ride you?" I ask bashfully.

"What's that?" He asks, tilting his head.

"You know what a vibrator is, but don't know what riding is?" I ask.

"This is my first time." He shrugs.

"It's when I climb on top of you." I explain briefly.

He doesn't respond, but picks me up and brings me down where my legs are on either side of him and I rest on his chest.

"So yes?" I ask.

"Absolutely." He nods.

I prep my hole with lube and I work a finger inside myself. Once ready I begin lowering myself onto his cock, we both gasp.

"You're so... warm," he groans.

I hover a minute when he grabs my hips and forces my down hard.

"(Y/n)!" He moans loudly.

"Oh!" I gasp.

Slowly I start rolling my hips. He's big enough where he doesn't need to move much to hit all the right spots. After a few moments, I start to bounce up and down on his cock. His hands hold me steady as I go down harder and harder. I lift up almost off of it and slam my ass down hard onto his cock and he melts under me.

"Please (Y/n)!" He cries, tears of pleasure leaking from his eyes.

Judging by his reaction he's about to orgasm. I speed up, bouncing up and down and soon he takes over slamming me down onto his throbbing member. With a cry, he cums in me. Warmth fills my cavern but I continue riding out his high.

"Use me!" He cry's out.

"Oh honey, I will." I moan out.

His hand goes to my cock and he starts pumping it. I can feel my own orgasm building as his second is.

"More please!" I cry as he jerks harder and faster, rubbing his thumb on my tip.

His cum makes a great lube. Impaling myself over and over again on him, I am almost to bursting from pleasure. Soon I orgasm hard and cum just as hard as he did all over his chest and onto the sheets. His orgasm is mere moments later, but I continue riding him. I never want him to not be in me. Riding out his high, I chase my second. He stops me.

"How bout we switch, beautiful?" He grins and in a split second I'm laying down with him on top of me.

"Please! Bernard! I need you back in me!" I cry.

And in one quick movement he's inside me. I gasp, he feels even bigger from this angle, if possible. He pounds into me hard and fast. Moaning, I throw my head back. His thumb ghosts over my sensitive head. He circles it gently clockwise. His lips attach to mine and I slip my tongue into his mouth with a moan. I explore every inch of his mouth with my tongue. He goes even faster if possible. Grunting, he moans.

The vibrator is back on his finger and at my cock. Vibrations go through my body and I arch my back. I can feel my orgasm building and he must know it because he's going unbearably slow now.

"Please!" I plead.

"Please what, sir?" He smirks knowingly.

"Please make me cum, master!" I cry.

"As you wish." He grins.

He grinds down onto me harder. I cum hard. He starts to pull out when I stop him.

"Darling, what are you doing? I'm about to-" he starts as I cut him off.

"In me." I breath.

"What?" He asks.

"Cum in me. I need you!" I wrap my legs around him.

"If you say so." He shrugs and continues pounding into me.

Cumming hard, he groans. Warm semen coats my walls and I groan. Pulling out, his cum paints my thighs a glittery mess.

"Can I clean you up?" I ask.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

I nod and take him into my mouth with one swift motion.

"I didn't think you meant this!" He gasps.

I lick his gorgeous cock clean. I rise up and he pulls me into a soft kiss.

"I love you." He sighs into my shoulder.

"I'm tired." I breath.

"I'm sure you are now!" Bernard joke.

"Can we take care of this tomorrow?" I ask.

"Of course darling." He says pulling pajama pants on and handing me a pair.

"You better take a shower though." He says.

"I should." I say, nearly collapsing trying to get out of bed.

"Let me help you. I shouldn't have been so rough with you!" He says, picking me up effortlessly.

"Oh!" I gasp.

He carries me to the toilet and sets me on it.

"I'll get you a washcloth instead." He shuffles out.

He comes back with a washcloth and runs it under some warm water. He kneels down and starts to wash his dried seed off of my thighs. After I'm all cleaned up, he carries me back to bed and lays me down. I pull him into bed with me.

"Stay."

"I will"

[cloudsandcrescents]

☁️ New Chapter Update ☁️

It’s way overdue though, in my defense, I never planned on a second part to this. That said, I’m very much the pushover parent who will give their kid whatever they want. (Not really, but that’s my justification for this. Just roll with it.)

Anywho! A much requested part two of Relinquish is now live! I hope you enjoy!

[ymaohoh]

'and she's a bride of the fucking devil' - Hellcheer Fic - Chapter One

Henry Creel has waited a lifetime for her. (and Chrissy thinks this is hell)

Yes, Henry was something else entirely. Not human, not like her. “Are you going to hurt me?” Chrissy whispered. (she was so achingly beautiful when afraid) There was a glint of something deep in his eyes. Something long-forgotten, something primal, something even he may not understand. “I don’t want to…but I will if you anger me and leave me with no other choice,” Henry answered after a small pause. He used one of his long elegant fingers to lift her chin so she had no option but to meet his burning intensity. “...but if you're good, Chrissy, and follow my rules, then I will keep you safe. I swear it.”

Lots of very iffy manipulation and dubious consent. There's going to be an underlying theme of Chrissy/Eddie (thus the relationship tag) Also on Archive. Word count: 7,355 Rated: M - next chapter is going to earn some tags.

Her body was numb (unfeeling) as it slammed against the trailer ceiling. 

All Chrissy could do was watch and scream, but her body refused to listen to her pleas - please please stop, I don’t want to die. It was almost mockingly cruel how her body chose to ignore her. How once again it did not belong to her. She had wickedly starved and punished this body for the simple crime of not being good enough.

It was as unloved as an abandoned dolly (its hair brutally shaved, its glassy eyes scribbled over in biro, its plastic limbs snapped and bent in painful angles). 

Her body crashed against the roof with a sickeningly loud bang. Through a fog, she could hear the distant sound of someone yelling, of someone calling her name over and over. But her body did not respond to the name of Chrissy anymore. It was rejecting her, shutting her out. 

It owed her no loyalty. No love. 

(though harsh, it made sense that the manner of her death would be removed entirely from her control, just as her pitiful life had been)

Because Chrissy had always been the type of girl to watch meekly from the sidelines and let things happen to her. Like the proverb - see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil - she sleepwalked through life with her eyes and ears firmly stitched up without ever pushing back (it didn’t matter that her mom held the needle - she was complicit). If she would not fight for her life, then why would it fight for her now? 

It owed her nothing. 

Let her tumble and fall. Let her break and shatter.

**

The monster that stood before her was the culmination of every nightmare, every unknown terror in the dark, every shiver that creeped down her back. It was the evil that stalked her from the shadowy depths of her mind. 

She was the hunted animal, and strained against the iron trap that held her. She wasn’t brave enough to gnaw at the flesh of her ankle to get free. 

“Don’t cry, Chrissy…” the monster murmured. 

It was not the kind of voice she expected to hear at her end. It was gentle, almost compassionate. Like the snake in the Garden of Eden, its forked tongue whispered half truths into the shell of her ear…or were they temptations? 

“Sweet girl, it’s time for your suffering to end.” 

She was terrified of this creature that towered over her (its dark eyes relentless). The fear wedged tight in her throat, threatening to choke and gag her.

Chrissy knew this was the moment in movies and books where the plucky hero would plead and bargain for the villain to let them go, to spare their life. She should use this chance to tell him how desperately she wanted to live and return to her beloved friends and family - please oh please let me live. There’s still so much I want to see and do. Didn’t she read somewhere that victims often said please when bargaining with their captors? As if the sugary sweet manners bullied into her as a child would be enough to sway this monster’s gruesome mind. 

(she saw it all so clearly in her head - her eyes wide and tearful, her quivering lip, her hands clasped together like some maiden from a tale)

But instead she only trembled and wept, courage and words failing her. It was like her body had already shut down to face the inevitable.  

(and she loathed herself for it. Like a lamb to the slaughter, she lay down to bear it without a fuss. She would cause no trouble) 

She doubted anyone would miss her. What was one less coward in the world? 

“It is time, Chrissy. Come…”

It was so much easier to lean towards him, to swallow his offer whole. 

The monster held out its hand like he was offering the forbidden fruit itself but before she could take it (and accept it), its talons caught hold of her wrist in an icy cold grip and tugged her forwards. 

Forwards into a waking fucking nightmare. 

**

And Chrissy was desperately, fearfully, alone. That was the very worst thing. 

She spent hours calling for help, calling out for anyone else who might also be stuck in this long twisted web of crimson smoke and shadows. She yelled and shouted, trying to hold onto hope that someone else had been taken by the monster, and she would have an ally. 

An ally who would tell her what to do, who would keep her safe. 

She wished bitterly for her boyfriend Jason, for her father, even for her granddaddy who died when she was eight and who used to swing her up on his broad shoulders. She even wished for Eddie Munson though she hardly knew him at all (she thought he would help her though - just like he offered to help her in the forest. He played that Dungeons and Dragons game that Jason labelled wicked and ungodly, perhaps he would enjoy playing as a knight on a foolhardy quest to rescue the maiden from the monster?). 

Or more likely he would be snapped and broken, just as she had been. 

Chrissy didn’t know how long she searched for as time seemed irrelevant in this world. It was Hawkins, she came to realise, as she drifted from home to home without any real plan of where she was going. Only this Hawkins was like something from the doomsday sermons she grew up listening to at church. 

She remembered flicking through a book she found at a yard sale when she was still a kid. The pages showed scarily dark depictions of hell and the devil, images that had (of course) burned a hole through her young impressionable mind. They weren’t too far off what she saw now. 

(she had snuck that book home beneath her sweater and stashed it under her mattress - her mom had raised (figurative) hell when she found it and slapped her so hard her teeth chattered. She was forced to attend Christian camp that summer). 

She began to think of this world as some hellscape. Everything was crimson and decrepit and covered in a thick coating of dust and debris. The sky above her was always dark (there was no sun, no clouds, no stars) - though thunder and lightning often waged war, making her flinch. Whenever that happened the world around her would always shift as though waiting for something, and the creepy blood-red vines would twist and pulse. 

If this was hell, did that mean she was truly dead? 

She certainly felt like a ghost as she explored further and further, without any plan or purpose. 

Her memory was starting to fail her (she wondered if this was a side effect of being here - that the smoke and dust she inhaled were clouding her mind), and the details of what happened were already hazy. 

She couldn’t remember a knife or a gun. There were flashes of distant pain, of broken limbs…but when she looked down she found her arms and legs were smooth and whole, no evidence of foul play at all. 

And the rest of her body was similarly unaffected. It seemed frozen in time, in a perpetual state of being from when she first arrived in this nightmare. She spent all of her time roaming but her hair did not grow greasy and any dirt or grime did not stick. She found she didn’t need to sleep - though she grew tired.

(when she eventually reached her own house, she used a knife from the kitchen drawer to prick the end of her finger to see if she could still bleed. She screamed when no blood would come, even when she pinched the flesh hard. She grew bold and cut into her arm - again, no blood or wound - but she felt it, at least)

Was this what it was to be a ghost then? 

It was not a surprise to Chrissy that her childhood home offered no sense of safety even now, and so she didn’t linger. She crept from room to room, thinking she should collect some valuables in her backpack perhaps, but what good would any of that be to her now? Ghosts didn’t mementos or keepsakes. 

She did try and change her clothes into something more practical (if she was going to go on like this forever, she wasn’t sure a cheerleading uniform was the most fitting) but when she tried removing her skirt she found the zipper would not budge. Her clothes and shoes seemed glued to her body. She tried pulling out her ponytail and thankfully that did come out, at least. 

She only ever wore it up to please Jason. It would be a real kick in the teeth if that act of deference remained with her forever. 

Yet bizarrely (or was it bizarre? She had no right to predict the rules of this place, surely) she started to feel the familiar pangs of hunger and dehydration. Her body was invulnerable to harm and illness and starvation, but it still expected to be nourished. 

She tried drinking straight from the kitchen tap but found the water here tasted like rust and she gagged. Similarly any food she ate crumbled in her mouth like ash. It sustained her for a little while but soon her stomach was growling again. It seemed no matter how much she ate or drank, she could not quench the ache. 

(the irony was not lost on her - that she gave in to these pangs now but ignored them while alive. Perhaps this hellscape created these rules in order to punish her)

Before she left, Chrissy considered setting fire to her home but as cathartic as it would be to watch it all go up in flames, she couldn’t muster the energy. She did pull down the hideous family portrait and used a pair of scissors to snip it up though (Ms Kelley’s sessions had never felt as rewarding). 

**

Instead she found herself walking towards where it all started: the Munson family trailer. 

By the time she reached Forest Hills, her legs were shaking with exhaustion and she could barely crawl. She let herself inside and collapsed on the shabby couch. 

The lounge looked similar to when she last saw it, though she’d been preoccupied by way more important things than interior design - like buying ketamine, Jason finding out she was alone with the self-proclaimed school freak, the constant horrifying nightmares that left her muddled and sick with fear. She remembered the cosiness of the trailer, however, and liked how different it was to her own stark cold home. 

Everything looked the same…except for the the large fucking something on the ceiling which made her leap up. It looked like a…window? A door? She peered directly up at it. Instead of seeing the metal roof or stormy sky outside, she thought she could see…more furniture. 

Chrissy had to balance on a chair to reach, but even through the darkness (for a shimmering cloud of black smoke settled around it, as though protecting it) she saw another lounge on the other side of that window. Like a mirror image, she could make out the couch, the TV, the same damn goofy mugs displayed on the wall. It was brighter though, like a lamp was turned on. 

Holding her breath, she reached up high but was blocked by an invisible barrier. It felt like scraping her nails against glass. 

Only it didn’t shatter like glass, even when she banged her fists against it. Chrissy hit it with such force that her wrists throbbed and would have surely broken were she anywhere else. 

She wasn’t the type of girl who swore, but she did so now. She cursed until she was blue in the face. 

**

Eventually she curled up on Eddie’s bed and wept. 

She must have drifted off to sleep (though maybe not…who could tell what was real or a dream anymore, and did it matter either way?) because suddenly she was no longer in the Munson home. 

She was kneeling in the attic of an old stately house that looked a lot like her own, except it was decrepit and falling apart at the seams. There was no roof and two of the walls had crumbled away (or been blown off in an explosion). It was filthy and cobwebs decorated nearly every surface. She could see spiders lurking in the shadowy corners. 

Chrissy couldn’t explain it, but she knew instinctively that wherever she was, was at the very heart of this shadowy hellscape world. The vines that twisted through the open walls were huge and the air seemed charged. It curled around her, enveloping her, and crackled with electricity and power. 

Could this be the beast’s lair? Had it brought her here to finish the job? 

She tried to stand, thinking it was better to meet this monster on her feet instead of crawling like a snake on the ground, but a sudden wave of nausea and tiredness hit her over the head and she saw stars. It was enough to make her cower and bow down. 

“Poor girl.”

She managed to glance up, expecting to meet those terrifying dark eyes once again, but the man standing across the attic looked decidedly human. 

The first thing she noticed was that he was an especially beautiful looking man. His sandy coloured hair waved back from his face naturally and his eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky in summer. His poise and bone structure was elegant, reminding her of an English aristocrat from romance novels and movies. Though he was dressed in plain white clothing, she could easily picture him in a gentleman’s ruffled shirt and waistcoat. 

She had never seen anyone like him in Hawkins before. He didn’t look like he could belong in her kind of world. 

A dream then (though she could feel the splinters of the floorboards dig into her knees). 

She glanced again at the spiders in the corner of the room. They seemed to be inching closer. 

“Don’t worry about them. I won’t let them harm you.” 

It was a strange thing for him to say, but then everything about this was strange. 

“Who…who are you?” she stammered. 

“My name is Henry Creel.”

Creel. She knew that name from somewhere, tucked in a forgotten space of her memory like a childhood fairytale. 

“I…I’m - ”

“Oh I know who you are, Chrissy Cunningham.”

His eyes swept over her. She felt very exposed beneath those (lovely) eyes. 

“You do?” Chrissy frowned and placed a hand to her forehead to try and steady herself. She felt sluggish as she tried to bite out the words, every syllable draining her strength (of which she had precious little left). “Oh - I’m so sorry…I’m pleased to meet you, I am, but it’s so hard to focus right now. This place…I don’t know where I am… but I’m so tired and hungry…I hardly know what I’m saying...”

Henry Creel waved a hand through the air. 

A silver plate appeared before her, filled with fruits and pastries. As did a pretty old fashioned goblet of what looked like water. 

“Here, please help yourself. You look ravenous.” 

She didn’t need to be told twice. She helped herself to a little of everything and swallowed it greedily. Unlike the other sustenance in this hellscape, this food actually tasted like food, not ash and rust. She moaned when she bit into a ripe strawberry and licked the sweet juice from her lips. She gulped down the water in one go. 

She felt her mind and body welcome the nourishment almost immediately. In other circumstances she might have felt embarrassed at making such a sight (her mom would’ve called her some very choice words) but here it didn’t matter. 

“Thank you. I feel better already,” she said and he nodded curtly. 

He waved his hand again and the plate and goblet vanished. 

(she didn’t even think to question where the food came from or why Henry had waited so long before tracking her down, time in which she had sunk near to the point of starvation - with no hope of succumbing to it) 

He had spoken politely, in a measured cultured accent she couldn’t place. He seemed a lot more at ease in their current circumstances than Chrissy and had clearly been here for some time. 

Though she was still afraid, she managed to find a sliver of courage (just enough) to ask…

“...are we dead?” 

His expression didn’t falter even for a second. He must have been expecting it. “What do you think, Chrissy?” 

“I think I am. I think…I feel…like I’m dead inside. I can’t sleep properly…or eat…or even bleed. If I throw myself over the side of this house now…I think I’ll fall to the ground unharmed,” she added, gesturing to the large gap in the wall. “I can just…feel it in my heart.” 

Though she already knew she was dead (had done for a while, in truth), it didn’t hurt any less to admit it. Admitting it out loud made it feel real, and like she’d made peace with it. 

Henry offered a hand and drew her smoothly to her feet. His hand felt solid beneath her own, his skin soft and warm. All that was missing was a Cinderella ballgown and a string quartet, if it wasn’t under such tragic fucking circumstances. 

He was so tall that he towered over her. 

(a push of something in the back of her mind, a memory dislodged) 

“Are you…like me, Henry?” 

“I used to be, once.”

“But not now?”

“No. I’m something more than human now.” 

He was watching her reaction closely and began circling, his eyes trailing up and down her body as if to memorise every minuscule detail. His gaze felt like a piercing arrow and she shivered as it struck hard against the target. 

He was taking in her measure and she wondered if he would still be kind after he found her utterly wanting. 

Something shifted within her chest then. This was not the ally (the protector) she had so desperately searched for, but he wasn’t an enemy either as she could still taste his food on her tongue. Henry must be something else then. 

Chrissy remained quiet as his eyes flickered to the kissed-blonde curls that bounced free around her shoulders and then to her crumpled cheerleading uniform (suddenly so childish and silly now). He scanned her heart shaped face, watching as she bit down on her lower lip nervously. 

Chrissy knew she was trembling like a fawn. She forced herself not to cross her arms against her chest. 

Relentless. Those eyes were relentless. 

(another tug at some far-off memory) 

“You seem so familiar…” she murmured, finally breaking the silence. “...but I don’t know how.” 

“Oh we’ve met before, sweet girl.”

“We have?”

“Oh yes, Chrissy. I know you exceptionally well. You could say I know everything about you - that I’ve made it my task to learn every thought, every dream, every nightmare you’ve ever had. I’ve been watching you for an exceedingly long time.”

He circled close (far too close) and her knees almost buckled. She could feel now the strong unmistakable power rolling off him in waves, surrounding him like a cloak and shield. The world - the hellscape - around them seemed to hold its breath, as though waiting obediently for his command. 

Yes, Henry was something else entirely. Not human, not like her. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” Chrissy whispered. 

(she was so achingly beautiful when afraid) 

There was a glint of something deep in his eyes. Something long-forgotten, something primal, something even he may not understand. 

“I don’t want to…but I will if you anger me and leave me with no other choice,” Henry answered after a small pause. He used one of his long elegant fingers to lift her chin so she had no option but to meet his burning intensity. “...but if you're good, Chrissy, and follow my rules, then I will keep you safe. I swear it.”

She tried to swallow her fear. “I’ve never so much as broken a rule before. I promise, I won’t…I won’t do anything to upset you or make you angry, Henry. Please…I’ll be so good.” 

“I know you will,” he said quietly. “You are good and honest…and so very lovely. You’re completely perfect.” 

A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the sky and Chrissy whimpered. 

Then her vision began to fade and she felt weary again. Her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she tried (and failed) to keep them open. She could feel herself swaying on her feet. 

In the distance, like an echo, she heard him say…

“You may go back now, Chrissy, and this time you will sleep.” 

And the darkness consumed her.  

**

Henry was as good as his word. 

Chrissy fell into a peaceful and deep sleep, and when she finally woke up (hours or days later) she felt rested for the first time since coming to this nightmare. She stretched out across Eddie’s bed and felt her body respond in full. 

Rested, as well as nourished from his offering of food and water. 

She was not happy exactly, but she felt a little less like a ghost today. 

**

Chrissy remained in the Munson trailer for a long time and it became a kind of base camp for her. It felt like a place of safety (as much as anywhere in this hellscape could) despite the daunting fact she had died there. 

She spent her time exploring the rest of Hawkins but returned every evening to keep an eye on the abnormal window in the ceiling. She still had no idea what it was and the invisible barrier remained firmly fixed in place, but it was strange enough to draw her interest. And to keep her wondering…and thinking, hoping, dreaming. 

She liked watching the flickering lamp inside. The warm glow felt just like the nightlight she used when she was a child and scared of the dark.

She read Eddie’s collection of second hand fantasy novels and peered through his record collection too - though she never dared to play anything (there were bat-like creatures in this world who she kept far away from. She had no intention of revealing her location and discovering if they were friendly or not, even if they couldn’t kill her. Nor did she want to lure the monster out - she was sure it was still lurking somewhere in the shadows). 

There were plenty of weapons scattered about in this world, but what good would they do against a Freddie Krueger style monster? She was no fighter; she could hardly wield a sword or lodge an axe in its skull. She did keep a crowbar close by in case the bats bothered her, but otherwise drifted around unarmed and unoccupied. 

She had no plans, no purpose. It was a contrast to her busy life where everyday was rigorously mapped out by her mom or Jason (they’d even planned her future - too bad for them, fate had other ideas). 

Without someone telling her what to do, Chrissy felt very lost. 

**

Henry Creel summoned her back to the derelict house in the same manner as before, just moments after Chrissy lay down and closed her eyes. 

This time there was a big bejewelled bowl of strawberries and cream waiting for her. She almost fell on them in her hurry to wolf them down. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the attic was less filthy and gone were the cobwebs and spiders. Half a dozen large stuffed cushions had appeared out of nowhere and were scattered across the floor. She took the hint and perched against one as she ate her fill. 

Henry was polite, attentive even, and he asked her questions about her former life - though she suspected he already knew most of the answers. As much as she tried to be cautious and keep up her guard, she was soon won over by his gentle manners and the elegant way he moved. At one point (while she rattled on about her mom’s punishments for overeating) he stretched out and propped his head back with all the grace of a visiting prince. 

He was an excellent listener and sympathetic as he coaxed out more and more information from her. She almost giggled when he made a truly villainous suggestion of setting one of the bats on her mom. She didn’t see the glimmer of menace in his eyes, nor hear the unspoken afterthought of… and let them rip her apart.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said instead. “I can’t imagine a more enchanting woman.” 

He was always quick to flatter and compliment her and Chrissy felt herself glow under the attention. 

She was still wary of him (how could she not be, considering the awesome power he wielded?) but at the same time she truly believed he meant her no ill-harm and wished for her to remain safe. She could read it in expression sometimes when he looked at her… and he did a lot of looking. 

(she was used to men looking at her, had been ever since she could remember. She didn’t look away awkwardly like she did when alive. Instead she fixed him with a soft knowing smile, offering her permission) 

She wondered if he was maybe just as lonely as she was. He told her he’d been trapped here for a long time (did this mean years or decades…maybe even centuries?) and her heart lurched at the idea of him suffering death all alone. Chrissy made up her mind that she would much rather be friends with Henry, then spend her time cowering in fear. 

So she found herself confiding everything, and she told him about the strange window she found in the Munson trailer. She asked him what he thought it could be and was disappointed when he said he wasn’t sure. 

(the next day she noticed an increase of creeping vines around the trailer)

“...but there’s no way back,” Henry added quietly. “You do know that, Chrissy? It would be best not to let yourself linger on hope, or you’ll be sorely disappointed. This is where you belong now. You should harden your heart and accept it. It would be easier.”

She was laying back on a cushion he’d summoned, her hair spread out beneath her like a halo. 

“Do you think this is hell?” she asked after some time. “Or purgatory?” 

“Those are human constructs. Foolish ideas to help the gullible sleep at night. A scale of morality to give them purpose, to steer them away from the harsh reality that all life is essentially meaningless.” 

But she still thinks of this world as hell. Did that make the monster the devil? 

Which begged the question of how she ended up here - she, Chrissy Cunningham, who had committed no crimes or acts of evil. She’d been pretty confident with her faith until a year or so ago when she began asking the big questions that made her pastor frown. 

Maybe Henry was right. Maybe there was no right or wrong, or good or evil. Maybe none of it mattered. It was a little late in the day for existential questions. 

Chrissy brought this up with Henry and she swore the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh. She found she didn’t mind. 

“I don’t think it’s as simple as heaven or hell,” he said finally. “But I’m pleased you’re here at my side. I’ve waited a lifetime for you.” 

**

Chrissy had long given up hope of finding anyone else here. Someone like her - mortal, vulnerable, powerless - someone just as torn apart as herself. 

She fell into a simple routine of trying to get through the day (by reading, resting, cycling around the empty dusty roads) then spending her evenings with Henry. She found herself looking forward to their time together more and more and felt a sharp pang of disappointment in her gut when a night passed by and he didn’t summon her. 

(she knew she was getting attached too quickly and Ms Kelley would label it unhealthy, but on the other hand she was already dead…so it seemed like a ridiculous thing to worry about really.)

She drifted through the days, almost willing time to speed up so it could be night already. Even the strange window in the trailer ceiling lost its appeal. 

Chrissy was cycling down the main road towards the library (she needed a break from Tolkien) when a bright bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. She waited for the inevitable noise of flapping bats which always followed, but to her surprise everything remained impossibly quiet. Cautiously, she pressed on and…

…and saw a real life boy running down the road towards her. 

She braked so hard she almost skidded over. 

His name was Fred Benson and he recognised her right away. She recalled him distantly; a skinny boy who trailed after Nancy Wheeler at school. He was babbling so much that it was hard to understand anything at first and he asked a million questions all at once, his eyes wide and tearful. Chrissy did her best to answer them (with the painfully small amount of information she’d pieced together) and tried to keep her voice from shaking. She remembered how desperate and scared she’d been when she first arrived (died). 

He told her about the car crash last year and his constant nightmares. He gripped the front of her uniform hard and warned her about the dark ruthless monster that stalked him. He wanted to go home to his mom (she would be so worried when he missed curfew) and could Chrissy please please help him? 

Oh - her heart broke just then. 

Chrissy let him cry against her shoulder as she oh-so-gently explained how that was impossible now…that she was dead… and I’m so sorry, Fred… but it looked like he was too. She watched as his face fell and crumpled with despair. 

She took him back to the trailer to rest and offered him Eddie’s bed (though she knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without Henry’s help - something else she would have to explain in time, along with all the other weird and unfair rules). Fred asked her if they could maybe stick together and visit his home tomorrow and she agreed kindly, before curling up on the couch. 

That night she told Henry all about Fred. He looked happy for her, gifting her with a rare captivating smile. He knew all about her desperate search for another friend. 

Chrissy grinned back, utterly radiant in her joy. 

But when she woke up the following morning she found Eddie’s bed empty. She looked everywhere for Fred (even racing over to his house) but there was no sign of him. She dashed her bike against the road so hard the front wheel broke off. 

She was still crying when Henry found her. He very gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear and murmured that perhaps Fred had simply ‘gone on’ elsewhere? 

He told her everything would be okay, that she still had him. He would never abandon her. 

“Do you promise?” she asked, her lips trembling. “Don’t ever leave me, Henry. Please. I couldn’t bear it.” 

He swore it. He deliberately brushed his thumb against her cheek and captured one of her tears, bringing it to his lips. 

(she would always have him. He had taken root beneath her skin now, whether she wanted it or not. She could not claw him out now.) 

**

But it happened again. This time it was Patrick McKinney, Jason’s buddy from the basketball team. She knew Patrick, had hung out with him at senior parties and before practice. 

He found her stocking up at the Starcourt Mall. 

“Chrissy!” he had called, amazed at finding her whole and unbroken. 

Chrissy laughed when he picked her up and spun her around. Later the tears came as she gently explained where they were and why (it was easier the second time round) - but overall he accepted their fate more readily than Fred. This time they went straight to Patrick’s house and she didn’t leave him for a second, worried that he'd vanish without a word. She even insisted on sleeping together in the same room and he didn’t mind after she explained about Fred. He swore he would stay with her. He would help her, protect her (he owed it to Jason). Somehow they would get through this. 

They fell asleep holding hands. 

(she was so distracted by his warm and sincere smile that she didn’t hear the rolling thunder and lightning, nor the vines pulsing like warning bells)

Chrissy jolted awake when she heard a loud terrified scream. Sitting up on the bed, she looked over to see Patrick being lifted up by a large monstrous shadow (its claws gripped his neck so fiercely that Patrick spluttered and choked, his legs dangling), but when she blinked again it was suddenly Henry Creel standing there, not a shadow. She hurriedly got to her feet. 

“Henry…what’s going on?” she whispered. “What’s happening?”

Henry tore his eyes away from Patrick’s (gasping) face to glance back at her, but something was hopelessly wrong. Why was his face flickering like that? 

He was panting, his chest nearly bursting with the effort it took to hold himself back (but from what?). She could feel the unmistakable pull of his great power as the air around them crackled with electricity. It was the first time she’d seen her friend look anything other than perfect and composed, and the first time she witnessed his otherworldly strength as he held Patrick aloft - as though he weighed nothing. 

“I’m…I’m sorry you have to see this,” he hissed out. “But I have no choice…Patrick doesn’t belong here. It’s time for him to leave…just like Fred.” 

Chrissy’s face twisted in anguish. 

“But…can’t he stay? Please? He’s my friend!” She felt herself begin to cry. “I want him to stay.”

“Chrissy…I’m warning you…”

“You can do anything, Henry, please. Do this for me? Let me keep him, just him.” 

His grip on Patrick’s neck tightened and Patrick’s eyes began to roll back. Chrissy cried out. She hung onto Henry’s arm before she could stop herself. 

“Stop it! You’re killing him! STOP!” 

But then Henry exploded with a roar that nearly deafened her. The force of it slammed her back against the wall. 

Her beautiful ally and confidant Henry was gone. The monster from her nightmares stood before her now, its dark eyes blazing with pure unadulterated fury. She screamed and scrambled away, recoiling from its hatred. 

The monster was shaking too. “I have warned you not to upset me, Chrissy. Don’t make me hurt you too!” 

(she saw Patrick fall and slump against the floor, he was very still) 

And it finally clicked into place that Henry Creel and the monster were one of the same. 

Chrissy threw herself from the room before she could think. She raced down the stairs and ignored the screams and roaring behind her. 

Heart pounding, she dashed out the house and into the crimson fog. The bats were hurtling around like a tornado but she dived through (her arms crossed above her head) and vaulted over the oozing vines. Her childhood home was nearby and she hurried inside, bolting the door as if a simple lock was strong enough to keep the creature at bay. 

She huddled in her pink and white bed like a child, drawing the blankets over her head. She screamed and screamed as she hugged her knees close. 

Patrick and Fred were gone and Henry was the monster who murdered her. 

(how she wished a hero would come and save her) 

Chrissy knew Henry would track her down, just as she knew there would be no point in hiding. She heard him rip the front door from its hinges and climb (slowly) up the stairs. He tore away the blankets and she held up the handgun she’d quickly grabbed from her dad’s safe…though hands were shaking so badly he easily knocked it aside. 

She peered into his slimy face, the veins making her want to retch. 

“I had to do it, Chrissy,” it said. “I don’t expect you to understand yet, but Fred and Patrick aren’t like us. They’re our enemies and would have ruined everything if I allowed them to walk free… so you see, I did it for you…for your safety. I promised I would protect you, sweet girl…”  

“I want to go home,” she whispered, not really sure where home was anymore.

His gaze hardened. “This is your home now.” 

She clasped her hands over her ears. 

“I can’t do this…please, I can’t…I don’t want this!”

“You will stay here with me, Chrissy. Forever if I choose it, do you understand? YOU WILL STAY WITH ME!”

He screamed in her face, his breath hot against her skin. She felt herself flinch back in horror. 

What choice did she have but to agree when the alternative meant inscrutable pain? This creature was her enemy, her captor. If she had a lick of courage, she would lodge an axe in its skull. 

But she didn’t. Chrissy sat back and let it trace its claws over her throat. 

**

Any semblance of normalcy vanished after Patrick. She was dragged back to the early days of her death, stumbling through the shimmering darkness as though mad with grief. She didn’t bother to leave the trailer or fill her days with semi-human pursuits. She just lay weeping in Eddie’s bed, trying with all her might to block out the godawful sound of Patrick’s neck breaking. 

(she could smell Eddie’s shampoo on his pillow. It smelled like eucalyptus. Was this real or did she imagine it?) 

In a low moment she took hold of Eddie’s beloved guitar and smashed it against the wall. She ransacked his tiny bedroom, using her nails to rip apart what she could. She used a pair of scissors to snip up the clothes she couldn’t force on her unwilling dead body. 

Henry didn’t call her for a week, during which she grew ill and starved from hunger. She felt like she might die all over again from the stabbing pains in her stomach. Chrissy didn’t know if this was because he was still angry or because he wanted to punish her. 

(she was well used to these underhand tactics) 

When she was finally summoned (and put out of her misery), she was drawn not to the derelict attic where they had their usual tête-à-tête, but to what looked like giant blood-red ruins. Crimson mist and fog surrounded it, while thunder and lighting raged above. It perched high in the sky like a fortress with the entire town of Hawkins stretched out below. Everything here was covered in the same glittering dust and debris. The creeping vines oozed and pulsed with energy, forming a web around her. Trapping her. 

At the centre stood Henry - the spider, the monster. 

He was wearing Henry’s handsome face again. It was alluring and graceful. 

He gestured lazily to a silver plate which held her usual fare of sweet treats and fruits and she loathed how easily she brushed aside her fear and dug in (if this were the Garden of Eden, and this the forbidden fruit, how quickly she would gobble up that apple and doom mankind). 

Chrissy drank from the matching goblet but instead of water she tasted swirling red wine. She drank it down eagerly, though the bitter flavour made her wince. 

Afterwards he held out something long and white. “I thought you might desire something new to wear. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to put this on. It’s my gift to you.”

She examined her cheerleading uniform and nodded her thanks. She was desperate to change into something new after being stuck in the same outfit for so long. Henry made no show of turning away and there was hardly a side room where she might change privately, so Chrissy shrugged off her clothing before him. 

It had been a long time since her own pale flesh saw the light of day. She pulled the white dress over her head and smoothed the material over her tiny body, enjoying the way the silk pressed against her creamy skin. 

It was a ravishingly beautiful dress. Long and sweeping, it was a dress that belonged entirely to fantasy and a long-ago world. 

(she could not ignore the rush of gratitude she felt towards him. She felt better now her belly was full and her legs finally covered)

“You look like a princess.” 

Henry moved at last and came to stand behind her. He tenderly brushed aside her hair before buttoning her up (how could he be so kind and gentle after brutally harming Patrick? Were these the same hands that clawed at his neck?). His fingers lingered at her nape and her skin burned beneath his touch. 

He acted as if he were the groom, and she the nervous bride. 

He untied the clasp of her gold ‘86’ necklace and tucked it away in his pocket. She didn’t dare breathe out. 

“You are so very lovely and beautiful. You’re exquisite,” he said quietly, his breath against her ear. “I’m sorry if you were scared before. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” 

Was that a lie? He was her friend, wasn’t he? Her ally? She had confided everything to him.  

“I was scared,” Chrissy replied softly. “I didn’t expect…”

“...to see me like that?” he finished. She nodded. “I can struggle with my temper at times, but Chrissy this is the real me. The other face…the face of the monster…you won’t see it again if you listen to me and do what I say. Can you do that?”

Chrissy found herself nodding. “I understand, Henry.” 

“Look at me.”

She looked into his blue eyes (the same blue as a summer sky, or a calm sea) and utterly beguiling face. His eyes were half-closed, as though she were the sun and he was dazzled by her. Chrissy’s fingers itched to thread through his wavy hair and see if it was as soft as it appeared. 

She didn’t want this face to disappear again. She would do anything (and say anything) to keep this version of Henry with her. 

“Soon you’ll understand everything, I swear, I just need you to be patient for a little while longer, Chrissy. For now, just know that everything I do…it’s for you…for us,” he murmured. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you belonged here with me. I just knew it���” 

He went on to spin her a tale of a broken and sad childhood where nobody really understood him, and all he ever wanted was someone special to confide in and love. Someone loving and sweet and honest. Someone just like her. He was painting her a fairytale and she found herself leaning towards him, eager to lap it up so she could feel less alone. 

It sounded a lot like her own miserable shitty childhood. She too had been so lonely, so eager, to find someone (anyone) who saw her properly. 

(her thoughts turned to a pair of warm brown eyes, to a mouth that smiled too easily, to a freaky man who noticed she was drowning and wanted to help)

Was Henry telling her the truth? Did he really hold her best interests at heart? 

…and did it even matter? 

What did lies or honestly matter to a dead girl? A dead girl (a ghost) who accepted gifts and kindness from the man (a monster) who killed her. 

[kriimhild]

MATURE CONTENT

New AU fic just dropped! Please enjoy my superhero story

Beyond Black and White

[viccyfics]

Femme Fatale

Rating: explicit

Fandom: Ghost band

Relationship: Swiss x Aurora

Words: 1515

Warnings: Tentacle dick, oral sex, sub and dom, mentions of bad aftercare, mentions of bad past relationships

Summary: Sub swiss and Dom Aurora oral to Femme Fetale by Twin Temple

Available here or or Ao3

"Such a good boy," Aurora smirked from behind her desk, applying her deep red lipstick in the mirror, but her eyes were on Swiss' reflection.

He was sat on the edge of the bed, hands behind his back, bead bowed in submission.

"sitting there so nice for me baby."

"Is sex appeal a deadly poison?"

Aurora glanced down at her phone to see what the song playing was, Cirrus had made her the playlist telling her that it would help a lot in the bedroom and so far the air ghoulette had been telling the truth.

What she wasn't expecting to see was the text notification from Cumulus;

"Make sure to fuck him hard and collect his soul Princess xx"

"I'm in the mood for destruction"

She couldn't help but shake her head with a chuckle, she had noticed very early on that the other ghoulettes had an almost game when it came to fucking Swiss and she was loving all the advice they had given her.

She had always been a very dominant ghoul even while in the pit, but there was an added layer of excitement with all the new sensations that came with being top side.

The toys were also a bonus.

"Don't be afraid of my pretty weapon Tell me what is so sinister about a woman?"

Placing her lipstick back down the desk. She slowly made her way to the tall ghoul.

Her hips swaying to the music, her tight underwear did nothing to hide the bulge of her tentacle trying to escape.

Swiss glanced up at her, both enjoying this angle. His eyes quickly caught sight of the squirming appendage, his mouth salivating at the image of it.

"We're all born with original sin"

"I like it when you're quiet like this." The multi-ghoulette mused, her hand coming up to cup Swiss' left cheek.

"Do you promise not to bite me?" she asked, although joking, she asked the question every time she put anything in his mouth that was a part of her body.

"I choose to use mine on men"

Swiss nodded in reply.

"You can talk baby, it's okay. You know I need you to actually answer me."

"No Mistress, I won't bite."

"La Femme Fatale

Come and follow me"

"Do you think you could take it down your throat?" The top of her tentacle was now slipping its way out the waist and, a little too early for her liking, but considering it had a mind of its own when it wanted to, it was doing an okay job of behaving.

"Into ruin and ecstasy"

That was all it took for Aurora to pull her lace panties roughly down her thighs one-handedly, using the hand still cupping Swiss' cheek to push his head forward a little.

The tentacle moved to try and reach out for the ghoul, the tip deepening in colour as it started to drop onto the floor.

"La Femme Fatale

God forbid I speak"

"Ah, shit..." Aurora hissed out as Swiss opened his mouth allowing the tentacle to find its place inside.

"Just shut up and kiss me"

Swiss licked his tongue from the base near her vaginal opening and back to the tip, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"I'm sorry women are necessary

To the survival of humanity"

"Just like that" she groaned, her hand moving from his cheek to the back of his head to grip at his locs to push the tentacle further into his mouth.

It certainly wasn't the longest in the band, or thickest for that matter, but Swiss still found it to be his favourite so far, but he'd never tell anyone but Aurora that.

"Such a good boy."

"lie with me, commit crimes with me"

Aurora couldn't handle this position anymore. Just standing there felt weird, but she couldn't help but love having Swiss look up to her.

She thought for a second before pushing his head back slightly and lifting her left leg, putting her bare foot down on the bed next to Swiss' thigh to give him more access.

"Use your hands baby, It's okay."

"I'm your nightmare, I'm your fantasy"

Pulling both hands quickly from behind his back, the right one gripped Aurora's thigh to keep her from pulling away as he sucked the appendage that was starting to wiggle down his throat.

And his left, going underneath her to stroke a finger along her folds.

"It kills you to love a lady like me"

"Fuck, Swiss just like that!" the ghoulette moaned when two fingers sunk into her body with a squelch.

Swiss let out a small moan, sending vibrations straight through the tentacle, pushing Aurora further into her lust-clouded mind.

"Well one day I'll put you out of your misery"

Swiss could feel the tentacle doing its best to try and stretch out to push past his uvula, but with no such luck.

His tongue still ran up and down its length, twirling around the tip and repeating.

"We're all born with original sin"

"Keep doing that!" Aurora cried out, both hands in Swiss' hair tightening, her thigh flush against his head.

She could feel herself getting close to the edge, and she knew Swiss wasn't far behind.

"I choose to use mine on men"

"Don't stop!" This was it, the final stretch before she came.

The final stretch until Swiss' mouth would be filled with her fluid.

"La Femme Fatale

Come and follow me"

Swiss moaned again, adding a third finger into the squirming ghoulette, his fingers pumping to no particular rhythm, her g-spot being stroked every time he pulled them out and pushed back in.

"Into ruin and ecstasy"

"Keep doing that baby." Aurora stuttered out, her legs shaking, "I'm about to cum, please don't stop!"

Swiss glanced up at her, most of his view being the hair brushing against his face, but he did catch a few glimpses of her face, sweaty and red, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips trembling.

Gorgeous.

He knew better than to change up his movements now, even though his jaw was aching, his tongue was growing tired, and his hand was cramping up.

And the tentacle in his mouth kept thrashing slightly as Aurora's orgasm grew closer.

"La Femme Fatale

God forbid I speak"

"I'm coming!" Aurora cried out, her claws digging into Swiss' scalp, making him exhale through his nose in pain.

The tentacle jerked, her cum filling his mouth and spilling out from between his lips.

Aurora pulled away, her arms dropping down to her side and her shaking leg coming off of the bed.

She let herself drop to the floor in front of Swiss.

"Just shut up and kiss me"

The ghoulette looked up at Swiss from the floor, he had put his hands back behind his back, making no move to clean up his face.

His cheeks bulged as he refused to swallow until given the all-clear making Aurora giggle.

"You can swallow baby, it's okay."

Doing as he was told, Swiss tilted bus head back to Swallow it all at once.

"I'm sorry women are necessary

To the survival of humanity"

"Are you okay?" Aurora asked, not trusting her still shaking legs to lift her onto the bed just yet.

"I'm okay." Swiss spoke his voice hoarse.

"Did you drop?" Aurora queried putting her head on Swiss' knee.

"We're all born with original sin"

"No, but I don't know if we're done or not." Swiss muttered truthfully, looking away from the ghoulette.

"I choose to use mine on men"

"We're done baby, let's go clean you up."

"Thanks, Rory."

"La Femme Fatale

Come, follow me"

Aurora placed a hand on Swiss' knee, her head now lifted to help push herself up to her feet.

Swiss watched her carefully, keeping an she on her to make sure she didn't fall over as she grabbed a towel each for the both of them.

"Into ruin and ecstasy"

Heading towards the joined bathroom, Swiss could hear her turn on the water for the bath.

"Oh!" Aurora gasped, shocked to see Swiss in the doorway.

"I was gonna come get you." She commented.

"La Femme Fatale

God forbid I speak"

"You're getting in with me aren't you?" Swiss asked looking down at her with a small frown in his lips.

"Of course I am, I'm not just going to leave you after a scene."

"Just shut up and kiss me"

"I know you wouldn't!" Swiss gasped, worried about upsetting the small ghoulette. "It's just.." he paused not sure of what to say.

"I'm sorry women are necessary

To the survival of humanity"

"You've been left without aftercare?" Aurora asked putting the pieces together herself.

Swiss nodded with a sad look on his face, "It was a long time ago, Don't worry."

"Na na, na na na na na na"

Aurora stepped towards him to help pull off his t-shirt, "Let's get in the bath, have a cuddle and get you some food okay?"

"Je suis la belle dame sans mercy!"

"Sounds perfect, Roy."

[adrixagr]

I made this for chapter 20 of my fic Daylight on Ao3

[bearlytolerant]

Shepard, on the run from her past, seeks asylum on Neon. With the funds from a few odd jobs and a shady loan, she purchases a small bookshop. Though her shop is practically failing, she can always count on her favorite customer, Captain Cora Coe to make a weekly purchase. But when she can’t make a loan payment on time, her life gets turned topsy turvy and she’s forced to depend on friends for help.

Three

Jemison teems with all sorts of wildlife.

Cora suggests hunting. “We could get started on those ingredients for Offworld Eats. Maybe restock the lodge freezer too.”

It seems simple enough. Not too dangerous either. Sam agrees and it proves to be both. They land somewhere not too far off from New Atlantis but far enough away that none of the city looms on their horizon.

Sam perches in a lower bough of a tree, shaded by the green canopy, waiting. Just like he’s been waiting for a couple hours now. His stomach growls and he throws the rifle over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. A small insect buzzes in his ear and he waves it off. He digs around in his pack for a sandwich. Feeling around with his fingers, he brushes up against the wrapper and it crinkles. He pulls the squished sandwich free from the bottom of the bag, unwraps it and takes a bite. Cora sits next to him, curled up in the crook of the bough, book splayed open in her lap.

“You hungry?”

“Not really,” she says, fully engrossed in what she’s reading.

He’s already shoving the thermos her way. “Thirsty then?”

She pushes it back. “Thanks but I just had a drink.”

He knows better than to bother her when she’s reading but he’s bored. It’s been a long time since he’s been plain old bored. He chews his sandwich with his arm draped over his knee, other leg dangling over the tree branch. Takes a sip of water and spots some movement in the sky. Abandoning the sandwich, he shuffles back to his post. Gets into position and aims his rifle, sights set on a bird circling.

“Oh, you finally see something?”

He eyes the bird as it begins to slow to a steady glide. Its burnt orange tail catches the afternoon light and sparks like a flame in the dark. He admires the beauty of it for a moment. It swoops and the moment’s gone. “Parrothawk. Good size too. We can get a lot of meat off it.”

One intake of breath and his finger is on the trigger.

It’s midday and the heat beats down on him. A bead of sweat trickles from his forehead to the end of his nose. Exhaling, he wipes the sweat away with his sleeve, turning his attention back to the parrothawk. But now that Cora’s attention is diverted from the book, he takes the opportunity to try and coax a conversation from her.

“Hey, how did spa day go with Lillian?”

“It was alright. Feels like an eternity ago now, though.”

“Just alright, huh?”

A coral bug scuttles out from behind a rock chasing after a small cutterhead, its teal tendrils flailing wildly as it chases its prey. The rest of the herd—he counts at least four of them—startle and begin running in the opposite direction, abandoning their comrade. Funny how that works. Nothing for hours and then a barrel full all at once. The parrothawk swoops and bites down on the coral bug and the lone cutterhead hurries away. Sam holds his breath. Keeps his sights on the bird’s head and pulls the trigger. It’s a direct hit. The parrothawk spirals as it hurtles to the ground. Smacking against the coral bug corpse, one of the bug’s limbs flies into the air and lands a distance away as the dust settles around the dead parrothawk.

“Nice shot,” Cora says.

He gives a curt nod of thanks. “I’m not done hearing about your day with Lillian,” he reminds her, readjusting himself and aiming for that lonesome cutterhead now grazing a few feet away. If he’s lucky, that herd will return but he doesn’t bank on it. He focuses on the one instead. Its solid blue horn and back ridges make it trickier to kill than the others. With so much protection covering its skull, he aims for the eye.

“Eh, it was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Our trip got cut short.”

There’s not a hint of disappointment with those words and maybe that’s what has him worried a little. Sure, Cora’s always been reasonable but she sounds apathetic. Sam lowers his rifle and glances at Cora over his shoulder. Sometimes he can’t believe how old she is. Makes him want to say what’s really on his mind but she’s still his little girl. Don't matter her age. He holds back his harsh words. Thinks them instead. It’s always something with Lillian. And that something is always more important than keeping her promises to Cora. It boils his blood when he spends too much energy thinking too long and too hard about it.

“Did she say why?”

Cora closes her book and tucks it away in her backpack. “It was just the usual. You know.”

He does. But it’s not much of a conversation if he’s filling in all the blanks. Slinging her backpack onto her shoulders, she begins her descent to the ground. Sam gathers up his belongings and follows. They trek toward the fallen parrothawk.

“Your cutterhead is getting away,” she says as they draw closer.

She’s right. It spots them and takes off running.

“Still think we can call it a win with what we’ve got.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They arrive at the parrothawk and he kneels. “You know, Lillian—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupts, bending over the parrothawk with a knife in hand. She works at cutting the skin away first and he joins her, taking the upper half.

“Oh yeah? Been spending time reading fortunes?”

“Ha, no. You’ll have a valid reason to defend her and I’ll still feel like shit about it.” Sam stills and drops the knife, standing and hovering next to her. “It’s okay dad, I already talked to Aja about it.”

It stings. He won’t admit aloud. But it’s good she at least talks to someone about it. Her best friend is probably a decent choice too. Barrett and Ervin’s girl has always been a great kid with an even better head on her shoulders. Hell, her advice was probably insightful and better than anything he could offer anyway. He wraps Cora up in a bear hug, squeezing the air out of her body.

“Dad!” She manages to squeak out and he presses his lips to her forehead before letting her go.

“I know I’m just your old man, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know,” Cora says. “Now, can we finish this up? I want to get back to my book. I was at the best part.”

“Is it one of the new ones you got.”

“Yeah!”

Why don’t you tell me about that then,” he says with a smile, returning to his knife and the task at hand.

And she does, softening again. It’s like a cool breeze amidst all the heat as they make quick work of the bird. They pack up what they can and make their way to Cora’s ship, The Hawk. He reckons it will take at least two—maybe three trips tops to get all the goods onto the ship.

About halfway through their trek, a ship lands a few hundred feet in front of them. The ground trembles under the weight of the landing platform, a swirl of dust obstructing their view. Then it clears, exposing about a dozen mercs—guessing Ecliptic by appearance—heading straight for them.

“Forget to make a payment on that loan you took out on your ship?” Sam asks, cocking his rifle.

“I paid it in full when I bought it. I think they’re after you.” Cora pulls her pistols from their holster and adjusts her backpack.

“Ask first and shoot later?”

“I think it’s shoot first, ask later.”

“Nah, I really think—”

The Ecliptic are on them and a bullet flies past Sam’s head, nearly brushing his hat. He glances over at Cora.

She smirks as she aims. “I’m always right.”

“You can gloat later,” Sam shouts as he tucks and rolls, dodging another stray bullet.

There’s a large boulder to his right and he rushes to it, skinning his knees as he slides in behind it. Cora follows his lead and scrambles, shrouding herself with the trunk of a tree. Ecliptic are more organized than spacers but still aren’t a match for the two of them. He aims and shoots. Cora does the same. The two in the front fall dead. One of the guys behind the fallen bodies trips and stumbles. Cora fires off another shot and takes him out.

“Care package!” Sam yells as he chucks a frag at the rest of the group.

Cora picks off the last two, her aim more accurate and deadly than Sam’s. The group is a pile of bodies and they exchange a congratulatory smile before coming out of their hiding places. Walking cautiously over to the dead, Sam counts the bodies. One, two—eleven.

“I thought there were twelve,” Sam says.

“Me too.”

Sam takes a glance around and spots the last guy heading east, sprinting off into the distance.

“Thanks for playing!” He shouts and gives a wave. “Bye!”

Cora lets out a small chuckle. “Think we should chase ‘em down?”

“Don’t think they’re gonna cause any trouble for us.” Sam shrugs and watches while Cora digs around in the dead merc’s pockets. She comes up with nothing.

“Lootin’ the dead ain’t glamorous but it sure is profitable.”

“Not in this case.” Cora sighs.

He waves a hand over them. “See anything on them like a slate? Might be able to find out why they came in guns a blazin.”

She continues to pat them down while Sam keeps watch.

“If there was a slate, it was probably on the runner.”

“Damn it.”

“Win some. Lose some.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Wait,” Cora says, pausing as she brushes dirt away from an insignia on the front of the suit. “I don’t think this is Ecliptic.”

Sam kneels next to her and with the adrenaline fading, he notices the differences between these mercenary suits and the usual ecliptic suits. Similar enough in style and color, it’s possible it’s still a subset of Ecliptic. But he doesn’t recognize the faction insignia at all.

“They all have this matching symbol,” Cora says. “Can you grab my camera for me from my backpack?”

Sam unzips her bag and digs around, pulling the camera free. “Got it.” He hands it over.

“Thank you.” Cora snaps a few close ups of the insignia before handing the camera back. “Maybe someone from Constellation will know what it means.”

“Maybe. We could also search their ship,” Sam suggests but as soon as he does, it begins to lift off.

“Think we missed our chance for that too.”

The ship takes off and they stare after it.

“Not our smoothest—”

“Hey, our response time was spectacular. We don’t have a single injury.” Cora lugs her backpack over her shoulders. “And we got what we came for. Smoother than a lot of our adventures.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, you’re right and any scrape you can walk away from is a good one.”

She throws him a big grin with a raised eyebrow.

“So smug. Wonder who you got that from?” He hauls his pack onto his back too and they make their first trip (of many) back to their ship.

Later, Sam kneels to the ground, eyeing the space where he and Cora killed the mercs. Someone moved the bodies, hints of where they were his only clue that they were there at all and he didn’t fabricate the whole scenario in his mind. He casts his gaze a little further and wider. The mercs were wearing heavy boots, bound to leave tracks behind. After a minute or two, he spots a patch of indented grass and the faintest of boot prints in the dirt heading east unlocking the memory of the runaway merc.

He doesn’t expect to find the runaway with the bodies gone. But on the off chance that the runaway is lingering nearby, he follows the trail as far as it goes. The sky shifts from a blanket of monochromatic hues of blue to a deep purple. The night might be gracious in offering unfiltered starlight but he doesn’t bank on it. He quickens his pace. Eventually the tracks peter out a few kilometers from where the dead bodies used to be and Sam finds higher ground in the lower bough of a tree.

With a better view, he spots the smoky remnants of a small fire and climbs back down. When he arrives at the dying embers, he bends low to the ground, fingers sprawling in search of any other clues. When he catches sight of another boot track, he stands up, ready to follow the new lead.

“Don’t move,” the cool butt of a gun is at the back of his head.

“Whoa, no need to let things escalate.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to speak, let alone make any demands.” A hand shoves at his back and Sam stumbles forward, making sure to over dramatize it by falling to his knees and hissing between his teeth.

He almost says he wasn’t making demands but pulls his dad card instead. “Please, I’m just an old man. Got a daughter to return to.”

A shot is fired. The bullet hits the patch of grass right next to Sam’s knee. The merc is serious, he can see that now but Sam’s always been good with people. Even the serious types. The serious types don’t take too kindly to his charm but they do take kindly to an old fashioned stroking of the ego. He’s always lived by the principle, that given a choice, he’d much rather talk his way out of a fight than slug it out.

“Bullshit. If she mattered so much to you, you wouldn’t have come looking for me. So from now on, I’ll do the talking.”

“You do have a way with words and a special sort of flair for survival,” Sam says and it’s enough of a praise.

His momentary captor starts monologuing. Blathers on about being left behind. Always forgotten. Which is a damn shame according to their perception of their own inflated skill sets. The rest of the speech settles in Sam’s mind as a static white noise. He focuses on digging into the dirt with his hand, remaining unnoticed. He manages to scrounge up a decent handful. Mixes a little sand in too. The merc is still throwing themselves a pity party when Sam hops to his feet and swivels, tossing the dirt straight into the merc’s eyes. A classic that hasn’t failed him yet.

“You’re dead,” the merc rages. One hand waving the gun around as they rub the dirt in with the other.

Sam rips the gun out of their hand and turns it on them. Smirks. “As a dead man, I’m the one haunting you and asking the questions now. Who do you work for?” Sam asks in a wavering spooky voice.

But there’s no words, only choking and gurgling sounds as the merc’s mouth fills with a bubbling white foam. Then they crash to the ground, dead.

“Well, shit. Hell of a place to have a seance,” he says sarcastically. “Knock once if you hear us spirits!” Sam says to himself as he pads the merc down, pressing his head close to the merc’s mouth where bubbles pop and the foam begins to dissipate. “No?” He shrugs.

Sam checks the pockets. There’s no slate on them either. But something tells him these aren’t mercs at all. Silence is better than spilling secrets, and this smells more foreboding than an unpaid debt. Worry pools in his stomach as he stands, pulling at his graying whiskers. Who exactly are they? But more importantly, what the hell do these people want with Cora?

[kendochick-moor]

Yo!

FYI, I'm releasing a new tier on Patreon on October 1, 2024. It's called the "Midnight" tier!

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

So, you've come to indulge in the most indulgent, peculiar things that earned me my reputation? Welcome, friend, you're among your tribe here. These fics are the darkest ones, with the occasional palate-cleanser, just in case you need it. There are hundreds of pages of sinful depravity and lust contained within, some never shared before on AO3, or even other public sites at all. The choice is yours. Like any good, stiff drink, enjoy responsibly. (But, do enjoy...)

INCLUDES over 20+ fics*:

Addicted to Your Sin (Uchiha x Sakura)

Blinding (Minato x Sakura)

Corvus (Sasuke x Sakura)

Covet series (Minato x Sakura)

Doe (Madara x Sakura)

Fantasy (Minato x Sakura)

Forest Fire series (Sasuke x Sakura x Itachi, Madara x Sakura x Shisui)

Glitter Bomb (Minato x Sakura)

Gotham United (Sasuke x Sakura)

Grey's Anatomy AU (Itachi x Sakura x Kakashi)

Heavy in Your Arms (Shisui x Sakura)

Hyuuga Hiashi_Haruno Sakura DILF AU (Hyuuga Hiashi x Sakura)

I Was Born to Surround You in Flowers (Itachi x Sakura)

Immured (Izuna x Sakura x Madara)

M'Lady (Kabuto x Sakura)

Orbit (Madara x Sakura)

Possession (Madara x Sakura)

Previse (Kakashi x Sakura)

Prison Sentence (Madara x Sakura)

Wicked Lie Fugaku (Fugaku x Sakura)

Worship, No Air (Sasuke x Sakura)

*Access to PDF versions of each story on Google drive will be made available to you to read (no download).

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

So, if you'd like to treat yourself for the month of October, here's something you could try. If you sign up for the Free tier now, there's a chance of getting a discount promotion (50%)! ("Autopilot" handles the discount promotions.)

If you'd like to sign up for a single month: - sign up, then, - after 24 hours, go back in and cancel your subscription. :) - That way you get access to the content for the month without having to worry about Patreon charging you again if you forget to turn off your subscription later.

If any of my 'dark' fics are missing from the above list, please let me know and I'll add them into this tier so everyone can enjoy. :)

Happy reading!

[rustyarcade]

✨Ramona Does A Stunt for Envy✨

I’m back yall! But I’m back into my Scott Pilgrim phase. Here’s a fic I did about Ramona and Envy :3

Please note that it’s rated Mature due to suggestive themes!

You can also read it right here on tumblr! Just go under the cut :3

More Scott Pilgrim fics and art coming soon!

“Ramona! Come into my trailer before we have to start shooting this next scene. I have another stunt for you.”

Ramona rolled her eyes as she hung by her waist from the cables to the ceiling. Working on this movie had to be one of the most exhausting and stupidest things she ever had to do. It felt like an obstacle course she had to go through everyday so she could get to Todd Ingram and figure out what happened to that guy she kinda went out with one time.

What was worst of all was Envy Adams, Todd’s famous bitchy girlfriend. God, what a pain it was to work for her. She constantly asked Ramona to do “stunts” for her. “Stunts” being a code word for whatever the hell she needed her to do that day. From actually doing an intense stunt, to picking up her laundry, to feeding her pet dog, Ramona did everything Envy asked for.

But Ramona was willing to do anything to get Scott Pilgrim back.

Ramona sighed, “I’ll be right there. Can you lower me please?” A crew member gently lowered her to the ground and she caught up with Envy who was a few feet ahead of her.

No words were exchanged between them on their way to the trailer. Ramona studied her face. She was so calm yet so bold and confident. Her deep eye shadow complimented her eye shape. Her red hair flowed perfectly down her face and shoulders, framing her like the Mona Lisa. She really was hotter in person.

Soon enough, they arrived and entered Envy’s trailer. She shut the door behind them.

Envy’s trailer was as extravagant as she was. It was covered in luxury items. Ramona felt like she was in a limousine. Prada pillows were placed on high quality leather couches with Gucci tableware strewn about the side tables and sink. The entire trailer reeked of Chanel No. 5. A tiny closet was filled to the brim with luxury brands that Ramona couldn’t recognize or care about.

“What did you need me in here for?” Ramona asked.

Envy walked over to the couch and plopped herself down. She beckoned Ramona to sit next to her. She obeyed. As soon as Ramona sat down, Envy rearranged herself to be lying down, with her long legs stretching onto Ramona’s lap.

Ramona froze. It had been a while since she had gotten so close with a woman… Three years ago…? That doesn’t matter right now. Envy is happening right now. Envy propped her upper body up and pulled lip gloss out of her pocket. She dangled it in front of Ramona’s face. Her eyes widened.

“I know I have a whole makeup department to do all this work, but I am playing you after all. I need you to do my lips the way you do yours.”

“D-do your lips…?” Ramona muttered. Her mind wandered off into dangerous territory. “Get it together,” she told herself internally. She shook her head in an attempt to get her mind out of the gutter.

Ramona fumbled the lip gloss in her sweaty palms. She felt like she didn’t even have the strength to unscrew the cap. Envy was growing impatient. “Hey! Hurry up, Flowers! I don’t have all day.”

After what felt like an hour, Ramona took the wand out of the gloss. Envy opened her mouth slightly, ready for Ramona. She took a deep breath and slowly began to put the gloss all over Ramona’s lips. Her hands felt shaky, but her application was crisp. She took in the silhouette of Envy’s lips in excruciating detail.

All while, Envy looked at her with her big black eyes. Her big black beautiful eyes. Like those of a siren. That’s what she was. A siren. Luring men and women into her grasp just to crush them into pieces. That’s what she was doing to Ramona. She tried her best to avoid eye contact, but she struggled immensely. It didn’t matter where she looked, her nerves raged on. The way Envy’s chest rose and fell with each breath was addicting to watch.

Ramona was nearly done with applying lip gloss when her hands got too shaky for her own good. Her hand slipped causing a small streak of lip gloss to be marked to the corner of her mouth right outside the intended area. She let out a small gasp at her own action.

Envy made an annoyed sound and rolled her eyes in disgust. “Nice job, Flowers,” she remarked sarcastically.

“Sit up so I can fix it,” she pleaded. Envy positioned herself to be closer to Ramona’s face. Ramona’s thumb softly scraped the lip gloss off of Envy’s chin. Each light caress of her skin brought the two’s faces closer and closer. Their breaths becoming hotter and heavier by the second.

Before Ramona could even fully realize it, their lips were interlocked. Envy draped her arms around Ramona’s shoulders and Ramona’s hands found their way to Envy’s sides. Ramona instinctively held onto her tightly and tried her best to pull her in due to the limited space. Soon, she wrapped her arms around her entire body, fully embracing every part of Envy Adams.

Envy got up on her knees without parting from Ramona’s lips. She began to run her fingers through Ramona’s short and colorful hair and pushed her face into hers as much as humanly possible.

It was hot.

It was messy.

There were…

Sparks.

Ramona’s heart dropped when she felt them. She quickly pushed Envy off of her as she started to hyperventilate. Envy looked at her with an annoyed yet mischievous grin. She was breathing heavily as well.

“You ruined my lip gloss…” Envy sighed out.

“I can’t…” Ramona said in between breaths.

“Why’d you stop, baby?”

“Envy, I can’t-“ Ramona repeated. She was stopped by Envy’s index finger being pushed against her lips.

“I know you’re looking for Scott.”

Ramona tensed at the comment. “W-what are you-“

“I’m not stupid. Roxie told Lucas Lee who told Todd who told me all about your little plan to find out who kidnapped Scott. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but it wasn’t me or Todd. We could care less about that loser.”

Ramona could only stare at her. Great. She still hasn’t found a solid lead on Scott’s disappearance and she has a sloppy make out session with his ex-girlfriend. Not only did they make out, but she began to feel some way about her. She felt the guilt spread all over her body. Ramona groaned and buried her head in her hands.

“No… no…” Ramona moaned out. She resisted the urge to cry.

Envy giggled at the sight. “Don’t worry. I make a lot of girls realize something about themselves,” She sighed as she pushed some hair out of Ramona’s sweaty face.

Ramona quickly got up and walked towards the door. “I have to go…” Ramona squeaked out as she put her hand on the doorknob. Somehow, Envy caught up to her. She slammed her hand next to Ramona’s face into the metal walls of the trailer. The sound made Ramona jump.

With one arm extended next to Ramona’s face and Envy standing tall and confident in front of her, Ramona felt herself getting smaller. Her knees buckled slightly as she looked into Envy’s eyes. “Before you go…” Envy got slowly and slowly closer to Ramona’s face. Her breath felt hot and heavy as she breathed down Ramona’s neck.

“If Scott ever breaks your heart, you can always come running back to me, sweetheart.”

Ramona felt herself shaking. Envy planted a small kiss on her cheek. Her unoccupied hand landing on Ramona’s side. Ramona’s heart skipped a beat and she gasped. Envy giggled at the sight.

All of a sudden, Ramona felt herself being pushed out of the door. She lost her balance and landed on her forearm. She whipped her head around to see a smiling Envy closing the door on her.

Young Neil was waiting outside in his golf cart. He seemed unaffected by Ramona’s fall. “Oh hey Ramona. Didn’t see you down there,” He commented.

Ramona said nothing as she climbed into the golf cart. Young Neil began to drive. “So. Did you help Envy out with the stunt she needed?”

“I guess you could say that,” Ramona answered solemnly.

Ramona stared at Envy’s trailer as it shrank and shrank into the distance. The place that changed her life.