#What is Computer Numerical Control?

[dhirajmarketresearch]

[elen-aranel]

I simply cannot see a post about cnc without being disappointed that someone isn’t making something cool on their machine

[giuliannna]

THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY

hamzah's too busy to help you out.

"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."

you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.

you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.

hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."

"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"

"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."

"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.

he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.

you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.

"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.

you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.

"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.

"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."

"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.

you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.

the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.

you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.

between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.

point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.

suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.

your hips come to a still.

“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.

“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”

hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.

he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.

you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.

he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”

your stomach floods with heat at his words.

“what?” you whisper.

“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”

“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.

“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”

you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.

he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.

he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.

but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.

it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.

you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.

“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”

“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.

you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.

starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.

but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.

it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.

your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.

your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.

a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.

with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.

“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.

you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.

“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.

“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.

it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.

he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.

he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.

he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.

“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”

all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.

“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.

he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.

his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”

"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."

"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this."

you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.

"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."

dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.

"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."

your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.

"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.

he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."

————————————————————

a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing more so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas

xo giulia

[doubleca5t]

So the acronym CNC also stands for "computer numerated control", and CNC machines are very common in precision manufacturing. I work with them regularly and its always jarring to be reminded thats also what the rapeplay kink is called.

Girl who works in precision manufacturing with a wife who's into noncon clocks in for a long day of CNC and then clocks out and goes home for some CNC

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Picture of a Cat.

Spencer Reid x Forensic!reader

main masterlist

Summary: After months of emailing back and forth, you finally meet the person you've been chatting with every day. Then you realize that Spencer is not just a girl's name.

Words: 2,7k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. with spencer of the early seasons very much in love in mind. the reader has a cat and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and maybe lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is pretty chaotic and not particularly serious😭 It might be best not to try to make sense of it. They're just two idiots in love, really.

To say that Spencer was dying of nervousness was not enough to describe his true feelings.

From the moment he woke up this morning without any mail from you in his inbox, he began to feel that his day was going wrong and that it was becoming an endless nightmare. He had lost count of all the times he had checked his mail at work, hoping to see even a one-line message from you to calm his anxiety.

As someone who had received your good morning every day without fail for the last four months that you had been talking to each other daily, he was completely taken aback and couldn't quite put his finger on why. Perhaps he had said something to offend you, or maybe you were just not feeling the spark anymore. But astonishingly, none of your numerous emails that he had taken the time to reread on the jet indicated any cause for concern.

Everything had been so positive with you recently, and he was grateful to have someone to talk to, even if it was through a computer, every time he finished a challenging case and his mind just wanted to focus on something else. He found great comfort in reading about your day and your thoughts every morning, as if it were his newspaper. Even the pictures you always sent him of your cat sleeping in cute poses, eating, or doing anything else made him smile and gave him the idea of adopting a pet, even when he had never thought about the possibility of it before. You always helped him realize some desires he hadn't previously considered.

But suddenly he didn't have any of it. Nothing at all.

Reid's gaze fell once upon the computer on his desk, and his face was illuminated by its light as he reopened his email page for what might have been the thousandth time that day. His fingers tapped over and over on his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves as the page loaded at a slow pace. He took the opportunity to look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. It was ten o'clock at night, and yet, once again, there was no trace of you among his messages.

His heart stopped for a second when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to close the page he had opened on his computer at full speed before he could even realize who it was.

“Hey, take it easy, kid.” Derek said gently, removing his hand from his shoulder and stepping back a step. His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he was intrigued. “What were you watching?” He asked, with a playful smile.

“N-nothing.” Spencer's voice trembled beyond his control, and he quickly rose from his chair, trying to shield the computer with his body.

You had been his best-kept secret for quite some time, and he was content with that. He enjoyed the idea of maintaining a certain level of privacy in that aspect of his life, as something just between you two. It was more special and romantic that way.

“Nothing? Is that what they call those things now?” Derek inquired, his tone teasing but not unkind. The boy blushed a little, unsure why. “I must admit I'm surprised.”

Reid had to think for a few seconds to figure out what his colleague was talking about, but even before he could understand, Morgan had started speaking again.

“Anyway, turn that off.” He said, pointing to the computer and settling his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. “Someone's waiting for you in the boardroom.”

Almost automatically, Spencer frowned and watched him, waiting for him to provide more information or at least laugh if he was making a joke. However, that didn't occur. Derek didn't laugh at him or anything of that nature.

“Go, Reid. It might be best not to keep the girl waiting.” He gave his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before heading off on the way to the elevator.

A girl? Waiting for him? How?

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to grasp the meaning behind Derek's words and the circumstances surrounding the supposed visitor. With a measured pace, he stepped away from his desk and proceeded down the hallway, heading for the boardroom with a contemplative demeanor.

As he opened the door and cautiously stepped inside, he was met with the most glorious sight of his life, the one he had waited so long for, the one that now quickened his pulse and seemed to bring him back to life after feeling dead all day.

You.

Standing at the table, looking intently at the various maps and data scattered around the round table in the center of the room. So deep in thought that you were not even aware of his presence. As pretty as in the pictures of you that he had seen.

He couldn't help but let out a little "oh my" at the sight of you. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he could hear it from across the room, or maybe his ears were just ringing from the blood rushing to his head. Reid stood still, looking at you, amazed. He could see how the light touched your hair and how you bit your lip as you concentrated on organizing the papers and a folder in your hand. It was real. It had to be real.

“Hi.” His voice suddenly startled you, making you realize that you were no longer alone and that the door was now open.

You look up from the documents you are examining and see him by chance. It takes you a moment to realize that he works there, and only by the FBI badge in his pants pocket.

“Hi.” You responded after giving him a very obvious visual scan.

Your voice.

It was the first time he'd heard you speak, and it was just as he'd imagined it would be.

“I’m-” You extended your hand in a cordial manner to introduce yourself, but he interrupted.

“I know who you are.” He spoke quickly, smiling at you. “I...I...you are...” Reid cursed himself for stuttering the sentence as his tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Okay…I'm waiting for someone.” You said it politely, but your tone showed your anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know it was him.

Spencer let out a laugh to relieve the growing tension, but it came out sounding like a cough. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he acting like a child? He was an agent, for God's sake. His job was to talk to complete strangers every day and do entire profiles without getting nervous. He found it hard to understand how that was changing so much now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak more clearly.

“Yes, I know.” He replied, sounding a bit nervous. His voice was a little shaky, as if he was straining to get the words out.

“Do you know if this person is coming?” You were standing there with your arms crossed, trying to see if anyone else was coming after him.

At that moment, a look of confusion came over his face. It had not even crossed your mind that it might be him. And although it was to be expected and totally understandable since you had never seen a picture of him, Spencer still felt a twinge of pain and insecurity inside. Perhaps you expected him to look different, or at least not look like a kid playing federal agent.

Maybe it would have been helpful if he had sent you a picture of himself when you sent yours. That way, you might have had a better idea of what to expect. But you were very understanding of his insecurities and lack of comfort with the photos at the time. So he thought everything would be fine anyway…he was so wrong.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking up. “Actually, it's me.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to hide how nervous he was, with little success.

As soon as he said it, you looked surprised, your mouth slightly open, and then you laughed.

“That's pretty funny.” You said it with a slightly uncomfortable smile. When you realized he wasn't laughing, you added, “Good joke.”

Seeing your reaction, Spencer felt the urge to shrink back and disappear, as if that action could erase the last few seconds of your memory and also erase the feeling he suddenly had of having screwed up in an unfamiliar way. He felt his chest tighten as you asked him again if the person you were waiting for was coming. Was it so hard to believe that he was the person you were talking to? The one who earned your trust and affection?

“I spent several hours on a plane, so please let me know if your colleague is coming.” You spoke again, your tone conveying a hint of disappointment and fatigue. “If I'm a nuisance and Spencer doesn't want to see me, I'd appreciate knowing that.”

Hearing you say his first name gave him an unexpected shiver. It sounded so pleasant and intimate. He took another deep breath and forced herself to speak clearly.

“Wait, he does want to see you.” He paused for a moment, realizing he sounded a bit ridiculous. “I mean, I do. I'm Spencer.”

You're momentarily taken aback, unsure if the guy in front of you is joking. His nervous expression suggests otherwise, and you even entertain the possibility that he might be crazy.

Oh my goodness, you were all alone on a practically empty floor of the FBI offices with an insane agent.

“Just let me know if she's coming or not, please.” You said, taking a few steps back to be at a safe distance from him.

His mouth was so dry he could only manage a soft, hoarse whisper. “She? Did you think I was a girl?”

“You?” You furrowed your brow, feeling more confused and uneasy.

At last, he had a suggestion and reached into his pocket to retrieve his badge, holding it out to you in a gesture that seemed to convey innocence.

“I’m Spencer Reid.” He said, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he was caught off guard by the peculiar turn of events.

You looked at the badge, confused, and slowly looked up, looking into his eyes closely for the first time. You studied his face intently, not really believing it.

“Are you Spencer? My Spencer?” You asked.

When you said “my,” he felt a flutter in his chest. His brain was trying to tell him not to get too invested in the moment, but the vulnerable part of him was moved by the way you said it, like he was all yours. There was a special air of affection there that he liked.

“Yes.” He replied, almost in a whisper. “I am.”

You had to take a moment to process the information, eyes glued to his as you tried to make sense of it. Little by little, you come to understand. This was the person you had been talking to every day for months—the person with whom you had shared your fears, stories, and dreams. Yet you hadn't even asked him for a picture or a call—anything that would have made you realize that he wasn't a woman. It seems almost unreal to you to have fallen into such a confusion.

“I sent pictures of my cat to a man?!” Was the first thing you thought, and it managed to come out of your mouth clearly, in an indignant tone. “I said you were my soulmate!”

Now you were the one who sounded insane.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at you and seeing the different emotions on your face. When he finally spoke, his voice had a hint of insecurity in it.

“Yes…but your cat is cute, and you take good pictures.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit nervous. “Did you know that the evocative power of images is widely studied? They can help us verbalize and even rescue forgotten memories and stories from our collective memory and-” He silences himself. “Sorry.”

When he fell silent, your brain couldn't do the same, and thousands of hard-to-filter words began to appear. You had a strange feeling in your chest, a mixture of familiarity with the way his ramblings sounded to you, just like the emails you loved so much, and confusion about the whole situation.

“This is so strange.” You said to yourself, pacing around the room a couple of times. “I was so stupid-”

He observed you with great interest, trying to discern the thoughts and feelings that were likely swirling in your mind. He could empathize with your confusion, as he was also uncertain about the circumstances. He couldn't blame you for feeling bewildered. You had embarked on your journey with the expectation of meeting a girl named Spencer, but instead, you encountered him. You had envisioned a lovely girl, and you found him—a simple individual, a nerd who had been told on numerous occasions that nerds lacked charm.

“No. You're not.” He said, attempting to manage his desire to bridge the gap and offer solace. “It was a misunderstanding. I should have provided you with more information.”

“How would you even start a conversation by saying you were a man?” You let out a laugh to yourself. “I would have stopped talking to you instantly.”

The sentence hit him right in the heart.

The two of you had the opportunity to communicate by mail when your boss asked you to send reports on several of the autopsies with similarities you had done to the BAU. It was then that a picture of your cat was sent in the middle of the files. Spencer was the one who received it and made an attempt at a joke after your long apology. And then another, and another, until you ended up talking for four months until now.

But if you had known from the beginning that he wasn't a woman, you wouldn't have bothered to get to know him at all.

“I...I don't know what to tell you..” He admitted, sounding a little more vulnerable. “But why did you think I was a woman?”

After a moment's thought, you said. “Your name made me think of a girl I knew in college. And you...you were so nice and sweet in your emails that I found it hard to believe that a man could be like that through a screen.”

When you shared how you perceived him through his emails, it seemed that a certain vulnerability came to light. The situation had turned the tables, and now he was the one standing there trying to process the information.

“I thought I finally had a friend. You know what my job is like...and yours is just as all-consuming.” You spoke again, having to sit for a moment in one of the chairs in the place, trying to calm down. “It would've been great to have someone who understood me as a friend.”

He felt a pang in his heart at your words and was instantly reminded of the times you'd confided in him about how isolated you felt in your lab, surrounded by dead people and computers.

“You can still do that.” He replied without thinking. “I’m still the same person as before, just different packaging.”

For you, it was much more than that. First of all, you trusted him in the beginning because you thought he was a girl; that's why he understood you so much and you had that special connection.

Hell, you'd even told him how bad your period was, and he'd understood so well. He'd given you tips and facts that you didn't know that were beyond your expectations of what the average man knew.

“I mean, I'm still someone you can talk to.” He continued, his hands moving nervously in his pockets. “Unless you...unless you don't feel that way anymore.”

When you finally spoke, your voice sounded almost whispery and gentle. He couldn’t help but lift his gaze from the floor to you, feeling how his body relaxed just a bit with the soft sound of your voice.

“No, no. I still want to talk to you…if you’re my Spencer.”

“I am, all yours.” He replied with a smile.

[001x456]

any 457 fic recs?

In-ho x Gi-hun fic recs

credits to the respective authors! ♡

*some of them are wholesome fluff, but some may contain topics that can be triggering, taboo and considered “dark theme” in nature; so after tapping the links, make sure you read the tags first (actually, since I'm a sucker for whump, spicy and fucked up stuff, most of them are 'dead dove do not eat', so be warned)

Overthrown

Seong Gi-hun isn't the only enemy the Front Man has. It takes him too long to realize that.  Or, Front Man's right hand man, the Officer, with the help of the Soldiers, plans to take him down. And In-ho has been too blind to see the betrayal coming.  (Ironic enough, it turns out the one who's too trusting isn't Gi-hun.)

Obedience and Oblivion (NSFW)

Dragged back into the shadows of the games, Gi-hun finds himself bound not just by chains but by the quiet, unnerving pull of the man who holds him captive. The Front Man offers him comfort wrapped in control, tenderness laced with possession. As lines blur between survival and submission, freedom and desire, Gi-hun must decide: will he rise above, or let himself fall deeper into the arms of the enemy?

and I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me

"Young-il was a good person. He was my friend. And you killed him because all he wanted was to save his family."

"Gi-hun —" In-ho quickly stopped and shut his mouth when he realized he was letting it slip. He's Player 456 to you now, and you're not Young-il anymore, warned the voices in his head.

You're the Front Man and he's Player 456. Young-il and Gi-hun are no more. And that ache, the sudden surge of pain in In-ho's chest, In-ho could never seem to understand.

all I worship and adore (NSFW)

After the tenth year anniversary of his wife's death, In-ho decided it was time for him to feel something else that wasn't grief. He found himself in a shady brothel with a companion of an overly friendly, overly awkward sex worker named Seong Gi-hun. (It's fine, right? It's merely physical pleasure and nothing more. This does not mean you're betraying her, it does not mean you're moving on, or so In-ho told himself.)

loving you is a losing game

Gasping and gurgling and choking on his own blood, In-ho's eyes remain fixated on Gi-hun and Jun-ho.

Mister Right

“Hwang Inho,” His assailant introduced stiffly and rattled off a lengthy sequence of numbers. “Eh?” They’d given Gihun something for the pain and it was making him a little dizzy. “My name and badge number,” The man said, his jaw clenched tight as he advised, “you should lodge a formal complaint to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency when you are able to walk, sir.” “Oh…ok.” “Did you remember what I just said?” Gihun’s head lolled. He blinked groggily at the figure dressed in all black. “Are you my nurse? This needle in my arm hurts. Could you blow on it?” The man didn’t move. “Please?” He whined, blinking back tears.

One Way Ticket (NSFW)

Gi-hun arrives in a foreign land brimming with hope and dreams of starting a new life with the woman he’s convinced is his soulmate. But when things start to unravel, and the truth of his situation becomes painfully clear, he finds himself at the mercy of a stranger—Hwang In-ho, a man who sees opportunity in Gi-hun’s desperation.

Final Game

In which In-ho tries running away from his own self, his guilt, doubt and feelings. (Gi-hun is handcuffed to a bed, yet In-ho finds himself the one in chains, unable to run away.)

Material Girl

“I’m not a prostitute,” The man sitting in the small plastic chair opposite Junho’s work desk repeated. Junho glanced up from the arrest form he was filling out on his computer and studied him. Seong Gihun, age forty-three, resident of Ssangmun-dong. The system showed his only living relative to be his elderly mother. There were numerous citations on file for money issues mostly, but no prostitution. Oh, and today was his birthday. “Officer,” the man said, wringing his hands like an old woman and rocking in his seat, “I swear.” Junho took his fingers off the keyboard and crossed them over his desk. “Ajusshi, I have you on video without your pants in a popular love hotel.”

dead (for a little while) (NSFW)

Gi-hun loses the next game.

Strangely, they don't kill him.

like a good, good dog (NSFW)

"Come on," Thanos — Player 230 — said, "I see the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. A blind person could see you've been yearning for each other. Don't look at me like that, I'm just doing you both a favor here."

"What did you just say?" Gi-hun asked.

"You heard me. Fuck 001. Or die."

In a Truth or Dare game, Gi-hun landed himself with the most absurd dare. In-ho realized the price of his undercover mission may be higher than he thought when he was getting fucked at his own game. Figuratively and literally.

Alternative Universe where no one gets hurt.

Forgotten Vows (NSFW)

Gi-Hun wakes up with a wedding ring on his finger.

Dirty Business (NSFW)

Gi-hun sucks In-ho’s dick while he watches the chaos unfold.

Facilitated Karma

VIPs kind of get whatever they want, here- so when one of them orders to have Gi-hun for a night, In-ho has to comply.

Gi-hun doesn't get the memo.

All Your Pieces (NSFW)

After the failed rebellion, he dissociates on the Frontman's floor.

pick up your stitches (better than your riches) (NSFW)

Gi-hun just looks at him in silence for a moment, studying his frame intently. “How do you live with yourself?"

“I don’t know.”

When he leans in, it’s slow and deliberate. It’s like he’s showing his hands. Begging Gi-hun to squint and pretend they’re clean.

“You can tell me no,” he reminds him. Miraculously, Gi-hun just nods.

Or: Gi-hun and the Frontman meet after the games are through.

wrap my name across your mouth when i let my feelings down (NSFW)

“You haven’t eaten all day,” In-ho reminds him, a note of desperation in his voice. “Let me feed you, Gi-hun.”

Gi-hun’s eyes are unfocused and bloodshot, he notices. There are dark circles underneath them. In-ho chastises himself for not considering the fact that his companion might be sleep deprived.

“Uh, yeah,” Gi-hun awkwardly rubs at his neck with his right hand. “I could eat.”

in the flow of things

“That’s my fish,” Inho snaps, taking a step closer. His voice echoes through the narrow space, sharp with rage. The man chuckles softly. “I mean… define 'your' fish.” Inho blinks, momentarily stunned by the audacity. “Are you serious? You stole it. You've been stealing my fish.” “Borrowing,” the man corrects, raising his finger. “Relocating is the better word, actually. You keep buying more anyway, so I figured-” “Relocating? Are you serious right now?” Inho's voice rises, disbelief flooding his system. He stalks closer, fists clenched. “You’ve been breaking into my apartment and stealing my fish like it’s some kind of hobby?”

or Five times Inho came home to an empty fishbowl, and the one time he finally caught the culprit.

let's drift away in fits of pleasure (NSFW)

Fronting a secret killing game while also taking place in said game was difficult as expected, but the most unexpected inconvenience was that of sneaking out every night to return to In-ho's office. He resorted to excusing himself to the bathroom for long hours during lights out and hoping the others didn’t bother to ask in the haze of their exhaustion.

It was Gi-hun that pushed the boundaries, as he should have learned to expect these days.

Nightmares

Chapter 1: Gihun gets a nightmare and I Inho takes care of him Chapter 2: Inho gets a nightmare and trys to hide it from Gihun because he thinks he deserves to get them

TO YOUR SWEET NOTHING

"You’re up early,” came the dry, familiar voice of In-ho beside Gi-hun. “Early?” Gi-hun snorted, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s almost nine. You call that early?” In-ho grunted, shifting slightly but making no move to get up. “It is when you’ve spent years sleeping with one eye open,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Or, a soft lazy morning between Inho and Gihun

Would You Still Love Me?

In-ho turned back to his microscope, clearly done with the conversation, but his lips twitched into a smile. “Speaking of worms…” “Oh, please no,” Gi-hun groaned. Nothing sane or understandable ever followed that phrase. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?” “Why are you even asking this?” Gi-hun demanded. “Do you plan on turning into a worm?” His eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh my god, did you sign up for some kind of freaky experiment?”

Or, "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" fic featuring Gi-hun and In-ho!

[nametakensff]

Your poor new coworker is the sneeziest person you have ever encountered. Whether it's allergies, a cold or even a random tickle, her sneezing has become a normal part of your work day. The rest of your team seem to have tuned it out entirely, but you couldn't if you tried.

She very rarely covers - about a third of the time, you would venture to guess. Even then, she sneezes at, not into, her hands - hastily raised, sometimes after several sneezes have already occurred. She wipes them off on her stocking-clad thighs, seemingly oblivious of the wet streaks she leaves that glitter on the nylon, before she returns to her keyboard and mouse.

Her sneezes aren't exceptionally loud, but they are numerous, vocal, toe-curlingly desperate - and above all else, wet. Sometimes she gasps through a build-up, teasing you and priming you for what is to come. You try not to stare as she fans at her face, tongue curling in her mouth and squinting into the distance to encourage the oncoming explosions.

As your desk is right next to hers, you are regularly doused with the copious clouds of spray that blast out of her. If she notices the moisture twinkling on the skin of your hand or the dappled marks of dampness all over your sleeve, she doesn't apologise. More often than not, she'll mutter a cheery 'bless me!' and get on with her work. You bless her and use all your willpower to carry on with your own work, biting your lip as you see scattered droplets of her sneezes all over your papers.

You recently started bringing tissues to work especially for her. You love handing them to her after a long suffering fit, for which you are rewarded with a lengthy conversation about her tickly nose, and how she's been to every doctor and tried every medication to keep it under control. Nothing has worked, but she's incredibly easy-going about it. You blush as she mentions she actually quite enjoys a rigorous sneeze. You notice she uses the tissues to wipe her computer screen and keyboard down after an uncovered fit.

Ever since she moved to your department 4 months earlier, you've been sexually insatiable. You replay her sneezes in your head, and your thoughts are filled with increasingly more sexual scenarios and fantasies. You never dreamed of masturbating at work before you met her, but her gorgeous fits send you skulking towards the bathroom at least once a day. When you can fully indulge yourself at home, you cannot believe how good it feels to orgasm as she sneezes over and over in your mind.

Safe to say, she's driving you insane and seriously impacting your productivity. You don't care, though. Never before have you ever been so keen to get to work.

[beckyninja]

To War

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Nothing much in this one.

The assault on Victor's stronghold begins.

Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist. Comment and ask to be added to/removed from my Taglist. And remember, my Asks and DMs are always open!

“Missile launch!”

Standing resolute in the Command Center of the Macragge’s Honor, Guilliman didn’t hesitate. “Bring the fleet into Formatio Scutum.”

Shield Formation. Let us now see what TerraNovan commanders are worth.

He only had to look out the viewports to see the two largest voidships in his ragtag fleet lumber into position. The former mercenary flagship Predator on his right. The scarred TerraNovan battleship Eko Tuntun on his left. His keen eyes picked up the mirage-like shimmer flickering over their hulls.

Increased power to the shields. As we discussed. 

A grim smile curved his lips. It seemed Admiral Takahashi was taking well to her new command. His eyes flicked to the Eko Tuntun, remembering the lean face of its commander. 

Captain Eze is also proving competent.

The first of the missiles impacted mere moments after the three behemoths achieved formation. Burst of iridescent bio-incendiaries lit the void, but the ships’ combined shields held. 

“Have the TerraNovan cogitators-” he paused, “...computers… located the launch sites?”

A burst of vox static. “Affirmative, my Lord! Shall I give them the order to- they are launching counterstrikes!”

If only more Imperial naval commanders showed such initiative.

Numerous baseline crewmembers gasped as beams of white light streaked from the two TerraNovan ships to the planet below. Even Guilliman spared a fraction of a second to marvel at the great energy weapons, capable of pinpointing and vaporizing single buildings from orbit. With minimal collateral damage.

Within his gauntlets, his fingers twitched.

Theoretical: that bastard Victor has proven he wants you alive. Practical: he would not keep you near potential targets.

You are not there.

He willed it to be so.

“My Lord! Incoming transmission from the planet!”

At his side Commander Sicarious growled. “They wish to surrender so soon?”

Guilliman scowled. “You know well that nothing is ever so easy. Patch the message through.”

A long burst of static, then…. 

“Roboute?”

His hearts stopped. The last time he’d heard that voice, it had been screaming for help he’d failed to provide. In two strides he crossed the deck and stood before the vox terminal. The operator squeaked and scrambled out of her seat, ceding control to the looming Primarch.

“My Love.” He poured every iota of the anguished devotion that had torn through his restraint and reason into the words. “I am here. I have come for you.”

***

You could not have stopped your tears even if you tried. They carved paths through the grime on your cheeks, salt stinging half-healed abrasions. Beside you, Listener reached out and laid a gentle hand on your arm. No voice murmured reassurance in your mind, but you felt strengthened nonetheless.

Still, all that managed to force its way past the lump in your throat was, “Roboute.”

In all the time since your abduction, you’d been focused on the immediate. On survival. You’d only allowed yourself brief moments of melancholy memory. But now, standing here before this transmitter, in this warren of a military base, with explosions sounding in the distance and shaking dirt from the ceiling, you finally let yourself feel.

To know he’s here… to know he’s come for me… that it’s all almost over….

“My Love?” The impossibly deep voice on the other end of the transmission grew urgent. “Are you well? Are you safe?”

You closed your eyes. “I am as well as I can be.”

In a few halting sentences, you explained your situation. Your surroundings. The allies you’d found against all odds.

“You should speak to Captain Antoine, Roboute. I will call-”

“No.”

Despite coming from orbit far above the world you stood upon, the command sent electricity jolting through your nervous system. Even the imperturbable Listener flinched and backed away.

“Do not go.”

Something primal within you responded. “I won’t, beloved. I’m here.”

A sound that might have been panting rumbled through the speaker.

“Roboute-”

“Forgive me… for not reaching you before.”

You melted. “Oh, Roboute. I never-”

“I should have been better. I will be better. I will drown this planet in blood until I hold you in my arms again.”

His ferocity should have frightened you. Instead, you felt heat ignite in your lower belly. Your hands trembled.

“I will be waiting for you.”

“Yes.” A long, shuddering breath. “I will speak to your Captain. Remain near.”

“Always.”

When you turned, Captain Antoine stood behind you. He didn’t meet your eyes, a dark flush on his cheeks, one hand tugging at his mustache. Next to him, Listener gave another of her enigmatic smiles.

“I took the liberty of summoning him while you spoke with your intended.” She murmured.

You nodded your thanks, feeling your own cheeks heat at the memory of what they’d both likely overheard. “Your future Patron wishes to speak with you, Captain.”

He cleared his throat, still avoiding your gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he took your place at the transmitter, you pressed your hands over your racing heart.

By the Light, I ache for him. Soon.

In the distance, the explosions continued.

But not yet.

***

“Next magazine, Big Guy!”

Tarchus lifted the cylinder of ammunition with minimal effort, loading it into the heavy gun now mounted to the mech’s left arm. In the cockpit, Frenzy jabbed a button. Machinery whined and the multi-barrels spun.

“Aaaand that’s the last of the calibrations done.” A tousled head poked through the hatch and fixed him with a familiar grin. “She’s fully armored and ready to kick. Some. Ass!”

This time, he did not smile in return. “Your levity is misplaced.”

“What?” Swinging her legs over the side of the hatch, she fell to the hangar floor with a grunt. “Just because we’re about to face down an army of giant, horrifying bugs who can zombify me with a touch, I can’t be excited? Fuck that.”

He huffed a burst of air through his nostrils.

This woman will kill me sooner than the Tyranids.

“Yet again, you oversimplify.”

She planted her fists on her hips and looked up at him, grin still firmly in place. “Didn’t your mama ever read you stories as a kid? Look around you!”

She gestured at the hangar. At TerraNovan engineers and Imperial techpriests working in (admittedly tense) tandem. At soldiers, mercenaries, and armed civilian voidsmen loading onto Thunderhawks and TerraNovan Lightning-class gunships. All the familiar restrained aggression of a battle yet to begin.

If I must endure one more “Thunder and Lightning” joke out of her…. 

She continued. “We’re the heroes, here! The ones who swoop in, slay the dragons, and rescue the princess. We have to win. So quit fucking moping.”

“We do not face dragons.”

“Fucking Void!” She threw her hands in the air. “You’re hopeless.”

He clenched his jaw. “Refusing to acknowledge the strength of an enemy is a swift path to annihilation.”

“Another line from your precious Codex?”

Something in him snapped. “Damn you to the Warp, woman!”

Hundreds of heads turned their way at the bellow. Tarchus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

What has become of my control? Why does she test me so? Why does the thought of her death make me feel-

A hand on his gauntlet. He opened his eyes to see Frenzy standing nearer than she had before, grin gone.

“I’m sorry, Big Guy.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “I know I’m… a lot to deal with. And I understand that what we’re about to face down there… fuck.” She gave a weak smile. “I’ve never faced anything like it before, and I’m fucking terrified. So, I laugh. It’s either that or cry.”

Another new feeling welled inside the Ultramarine. Similar to what he felt whenever he thought of the lost Lady. A desire to… protect.

“You will not face it alone, Frenzy.” He hesitated, then reached out and placed a massive armored hand on her shoulder. “By the Emperor, I vow it.”

Her eyes widened for a moment. She reached up and laid her own small hand over his.

“Tarchus, if we don’t make it through this, I just want to say-”

“VANGUARD ASSAULT SQUAD. BOARD NOW AND PREPARE FOR DEPLOYMENT.”

“Fuck!” Frenzy stepped back. “Give me a hand, Big Guy?”

He obliged, letting her use his gauntlet as a step stool as she clambered back into her mech’s cockpit. He watched her strap in, connecting various cables to ports in the black, reinforced arming suit she’d managed to scavenge from the wreckage of the Armory. 

“Void damn it… hand me my-”

Tarchus already had her helmet in his hand. She flashed him another grin.

“Thanks! We make a pretty good team, you and I.” She slipped it onto her head, the holo-visor automatically projecting over her eyes, and flashed him a thumbs up.

“Courage and honor, Lieutenant.”

Side by side, mech-pilot and marine marched toward a waiting Thunderhawk. 

***

Aboard another, specially modified Thunderhawk, Roboute Guilliman prepared for war. His Victrix Guard stood at his side, tension radiating from their Commander.

I understand your concerns, my son. But nothing will keep me from this battlefield.

So far, the plan had gone well. The mercenary fortress’ missile sites had been obliterated. The combined shields of the three battleships had allowed the smaller voidships huddled behind to launch their troops undisturbed. A landing zone was even now being cleared by the TerraNovan Rangers planetside. 

Only one detail set Guilliman’s teeth on edge.

“No, Roboute.”

He’d continued as if you hadn’t made that ridiculous objection. “You will come to the Landing Zone. My personal Thunderhawk will transport you back to the Macragge’s Honor.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You are being irrational!”

“I am their Matron Uncrowned! I cannot abandon them!”

“Do not make me order my sons to take you by force.”

The vox had gone silent for a long time after that. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would, my Love.” 

To keep you safe, I would.

“Roboute, I love you, but I’ve been either hiding or running all my life. No more.”

You’d cut the transmission after that… and he’d put his fist through the terminal.

The Thunderhawk trembled in such a way that he knew they were entering the atmosphere. Almost immediately afterwards the unmistakable sound of artillery filled the air. The vox came alive with pilots’ chatter.

“Anti-aircraft gun spotted! Firing energy cannons!”

“Whoo! That was a close one!”

“I’m hit! Mayday, mayday! Light help-”

“My Lord!” The Ultramarine pilot shouted to be heard over the chaos. “Landing Zone in sight. It appears heavily contested.”

“Open fire when in range, Lucius. Bring them wrath and ruin.”

“Yes, my Lord!”

Soon, the roar of Thunderhawk guns added to the cacophony. Guilliman closed his eyes, seeking the calm he always felt before battle. Instead, he saw your face. 

You’re close.

The thought made the beast within, the beast he thought he’d forced back into its cage, roar. He wrestled with it. He could not become a being of unthinking rage. Not again. He needed to plan, strategize, retain his rationality. Only then could victory be assured.

With a bone-shaking thud, the Thunderhawk landed. The ramp opened. Light and heat and screams and blood-

And you. My wife. My woman. Mine. Mine. MINE!

Vengeance Incarnate charged, flaming blade held high, into the fray.

@solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bispecsual

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[keeksandgigz]

okay okay, but imagine an older!modern!eddie getting ticked off every time you have your phone on 'do not disturb.'

this was supposed to be a blurb but pls queens turn off your dnd this is loosely based on a true story

eddie munson x fem! reader

word count: 3k

cw: porn with a little plot, spanking with a spoon, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv (pls don't do that), use of nicknames (sweetness, sugar, baby etc), established d/s dynamic (even if there isn't much of it here), no physical description of reader, minors dni, smut below the cut!

Like, it starts off kinda funny like "Honey, c'mon I need you to return my calls if I know you're free. I needa know my girl is safe" he says, voice real sweet. You just apologize and turn it off.

Until it becomes a recurrent thing. He'll call you to ask if you still need to get picked up after class while you're out running errands. You don't see his call until after class and you hurriedly call him to come pick you up.

Or he's at the grocery store to pick up dinner for later and he's texting you to ask what he needs to get for you and you just don't answer him. You don't see his texts.

He tries to call. Voicemail.

He later gets home with whatever he was craving and just starts cooking.

"But I thought we said we were gonna do pasta, Ed? Why're you making chicken?" you ask, literally without a clue as to why dinner plans have changed.

"Well, sweetness, if you don't answer my texts or return my calls how the hell am I supposed to know what kinda pasta you wanted, huh?" he just shrugs, voice a bit hardened. You can tell it's starting to tick him off.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Ed, I don't even know where my phone is, really" you scratch your head, looking around but not really in search for your phone.

"Well, if you didn't have your DnD on you'd know where your phone is once I call or text you. It's starting to get a little frustrating, baby, can you please be a little more mindful and turn off your 'do not disturb' when you don't need it please?" you just nod sheepishly, like you've been scolded for not saying 'thank you' to a gift you didn't like.

And it does end up happening numerous times. Luckily, nothing too insane.

Sometimes he'd ask you if you wanted to call and you just sit there waiting for him to call. After ten minutes, you assume he's gone to sleep (he's a bit old after all), so you turn off your phone and tuck in for the night.

"Why didn't you pick up last night baby? I called you like six times" he asks the morning after.

"Wait, you called? I was waiting for you to call and then you didn't so I just went to bed" you explain, then clocking the issue there. Shit.

"You had your DnD on, didn't you, sweetness?" and he gets close to you. Close enough for you to hold your breath, too entranced by his big presence, filling up every bit of your vision. You feel suffocated by him.

You look down, too much to be looking at him right now, with the aura of calm and cool control that he exudes. It'd be easier for him to swallow you whole than for you to be making eye contact with him right now.

He just takes care of that promptly for you. He gingerly places two fingers under your chin, making you look at him in the eyes.

"You look at me when I talk to you. You know better, don't you baby?" and he puts on this fake pout that makes you blush all over. You imagine the butterflies at the bottom of your stomach tinging a pretty shade of pink with every domineering word that comes out of that man's mouth.

You just nod, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, releasing you from the delicious torture of him invading your senses as he takes a step back, letting your chin go before he just goes back to what he was doing.

"Oughta punish you one of these days if you don't turn that damn DnD off" he mutters and then he's back on his computer.

The gruff words make your shaky legs stutter as you decide you cannot be standing anymore and you plop yourself on the couch.

His last straw, however, is when you're out at a club with your friends. You've had one too many drinks and you text Eddie to come pick you up. He has no idea where you are.

Yeah, baby I can pick you up. Where at? 12:34 am

Can't pick you up if you don't tell me where you are, sweetness. 12:42 am

You there? 12:50 am

Turn off your DnD PLEASE 1:00 am

I'm omw 1:03 am

And he pulls up in front of the bar you were helplessly staring out the door of. You're not drunk, just not having fun.

You run into the car, shivering from the biting November breeze.

"Had to call one of your friends to tell me where the fuck you were. Are you drunk?" he asks. Voice stern, laden with what you could only define as barbed wire. Cutting, angry, almost.

"'m not drunk." you mutter "I had, like, a shot, then I decided I wasn't having fun anymore. Didn't wanna go out in the first place" finding the creases and ridges of your hands very interesting all of a sudden.

"Trust me when I tell you you won't be having fun at home either. Fucking sick of that 'do not disturb' thing on. You had me scared to death." he seethes, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. You notice he's wearing his pyjamas.

Fuck. You made him get out of bed. You shrink in your seat.

"Y'don't wanna be disturbed? I'll fuckin' teach you about being disturbed" and that's the last thing he says before he just speeds home.

There's thick tension between the two of you when he opens the door to his apartment. You sit on his counter, looking at the floor and getting ready for another scolding.

He's leaning on the wall opposite to you, arms crossed.

He breaks the silence "Floor's lookin' clean? You gonna look at me now?" you shiver, then look up to meet his darkened eyes.

He scoffs and takes a few paces towards you, until he's placed between your parted legs.

"What do I gotta do with you, huh? Do I gotta start checkin' your phone to make sure that damn thing is turned off? As far as I'm concerned after your classes you shouldn't have it on at all" he remarks, his hands caressing over the nylon of your tights, toying with the fabric of your dress.

You interject "I just forget, Ed. I'm so busy these days I forget to turn it off" you jut out your bottom lip, trying to coax a bit of sweet sympathy out of him. Something that'll make the punishment a bit lighter.

But he remains unmoved, his lips in a straight line as he moves his hands up, up, up to firmly hold your waist. "So forgetful, aren't you, baby? Maybe you need a reminder, carve some space in that big, busy brain of yours to remember to turn your DnD off, hm?" he chides, playing with the insides of your arm, skin sensitive and waiting as his thick finger moves up and down and you can't help but nod.

Your breath begins to pick up ever so slightly. But he notices, of course he notices. The way your mouth parts and your pupils dilate. The way your chest begins to get closer to him, rising and falling in anticipation.

"So pretty" he teases, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his palm, letting out a sweet humming sound that makes Eddie's stomach flip despite his hardened facade "Y'wanna play?"

His voice goes to a deep, dark timbre, the question making you shiver. You speak for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Yes, sir" voice thin and quiet as you keep looking at him, not wanting to worsen your precarious position as he undoes the zipper of the short dress you're wearing, helping him out by taking your arms out of the thin sleeves.

"Good girl," he remarks, tapping the sides of your thighs to make you lift your hips, removing the dress off of you completely.

He licks his lips when he finds you're wearing tights. He loves spanking you with the nylon barrier between his hand and the soft skin of your ass. A weird quirk of his.

You feel the hardened pressure of his bulge against the inside of your thigh as his body turns to litter a trail of kisses over your jawline and you keen into his touch, arch towards his chest demanding more, more, more. Even if you're in no position to demand anything.

A whine escapes you as you keep arching your hips towards him. Eddie's quick to stop you with a strong hand pinning you down against the marble of the counter. He tuts.

"Don't be greedy. Hop off and bend over" he commands, and who are you to say no to him as you comply with a meek "Yes, sir," resting your elbows on the cold counter.

His nose skims the length of your spine, taking in the way you smell. Sweet and musky, after a night of dancing among sweaty bodies. The thought intrudes Eddie's head. Did a body press itself against you? Is the scent of a random man now on the skin of your back, the fabric of your dress?

He shakes the thought away as he reaches the waistband of your black nylon tights.

"Pass me that wooden spoon, will you, sugar?" he says sweetly, snaking a hand in your hair. You shiver as you reach for the wooden utensil in the metal bucket next to the stove. You pass it to him, skin pricking up from the anticipation of not knowing what he might do with it.

"Thank you, baby" he kisses your shoulders, as the spoon comes into contact with your ass. Caressing up and down.

"Now, I hate to do this, you know me, but I gotta teach you a lesson, sweetness. Tell me you want this" he says, the utensil snaking its way between your legs, rubbing back and forth. A wicked smile appearing on Eddie's lips when you begin to helplessly whimper, your head lolling on its side against the marble counter.

"I- I want this" you say, loud enough to make him hear you.

And that's all he needs. A green light.

The wooden spoon lands on the meat of your ass. You hiss. The feeling is new, he hadn't spanked you with anything aside of his hand before, but the feeling of the wooden handle cracking on your skin makes your head reel.

"You gonna put your phone on DnD again?" he asks, a question he knows the answer to as he cracks down the spoon again.

"Ah- ow- No, sir. Thank you, sir" you say, sweet and compliant, hoping that it will relieve you of your penance earlier than he'd planned to.

His hand sneaks itself on the seam of your tights, knowing you never wear panties with them, feeling the heat radiating off of your core, a dampness that had been sitting there since you'd climbed in the car.

He chuckles to himself, a dark laugh, a notice that he will not go easy on you tonight.

"You're likin' this?" you can almost hear the wicked smile in his words. "You little slut, you're getting wet from this? Me smacking you with a spoon?" he taunts and your legs quiver as he administers two more cracks to your ass.

You have cotton in your ears. Your skin feels everything and nothing at the same time as you begin slumping against the counter.

"So horny you can't even stand, huh, sweetness?" Eddie smacks you again and then reaches his arm around your waist to pull you up "Little slut didn't want me to disturb her, hat true?" he asks, another smack, this time he expects an answer.

"Fuck- ow- no Eddie that's not-ah" another smack "t-true" you sob, tears beginning to well on the waterline of your eyes.

Your ass feels on fire while Eddie puts the spoon down next to your head. Your legs shaky in your heels as he kneels between your legs.

Two of his fingers hooked on the seam of your tights as he rips a hole in them, exposing you to him. You gasp, more at the suddenness of the motion than at the action itself.

Your tights never had a long enough lifespan when you wore them around Eddie.

"You got so wet, sweetness." He whispers, entranced by the way the skin glistens in the dull kitchen light.

His hands hook around your waist to keep you still as his face narrows into your pussy, and he begins to lick.

Broad stripes of his tongue, slurping and lapping up whatever he missed. Eating like a man starved.

Your back arching to get more, more, greedy in the best way possible as you mewled and cried for him to keep going. As you mewled and cried nonsense, feeling your brain turn fuzzy and your eyes becoming accustomed to going to the back of your head every time his tongue lingered long enough on your clit.

When he begins to suck harshly on it you have no choice but to grab the back of his head and push it further, if there ever was a further, as he is wedged deep between your legs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

He doesn't like it, though, the way you grab and push at his head like you're the one calling the shots.

He unhooks his arms from your waist momentarily to reach for your wrists to pin them behind your back, that's when he stands from his place in between your legs.

"Y'think you're a big girl, huh? Callin' the shots?" he lands a smack on your ass, turning you around to finally face him. Hands still pinned behind you as he pushes you towards him.

"I didn't- I don't-" you try and justify yourself, but he just delivers a smack to your face. Light enough to give you a slight sting.

His chin glistens with your slick, and you can smell it on him.

"Look what you did" he says, taunting you. His free hand comes to squeeze your cheeks, making you look at him.

"Clean me up, since you wanna be so fuckin' messy" and he squeezes harder, your tongue jutting out to lick at the clear wetness on his face, slight stubble scratching your tongue and chin. You lick around his mouth, under his nose, until he pushes you away from him.

"Greedy, greedy" he chants, as he places you on top of the counter, cold marble a relief against your aching ass.

You could clearly see the outline of his cock against his sweats, you bite your lip as he inches closer to you. “Look how hard you made me, baby," he mutters, low and dark "it’s impossible to be in your presence when you look like you want to get fucked all the time." he continues "Goin' out in that tight little dress like you don't want everyone to see your pretty tits" he says, grabbing a handful through the bralette you're wearing.

He moves the cups to the side as he toys with your tits, a hand reaching into your mouth to wet his fingers. You gag and sputter around his digits.

"Theeere you go, sweetness. Y'like having your mouth full?" he asks, Hardened stare urging you to answer. You nod and let out a weak hum in approval as his fingers keep pushing in and out of your mouth.

He removes his fingers from your mouth as he begins circling the sensitive buds of your nipples. You let out a desperate moan.

"So sensitive, aren't you? You wanna cum like that while I fuck you?" he asks, and you can't find the words fast enough to nod your head yes.

"Ask me nicely. You know better" he says sternly as he uses one hand to lower the waistband of his sweats, letting his cock spring free.

"F-fuck, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me, sir" is all you can muster, before he guides his cock to your entrance, sinking in all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes you. It never gets old.

"That's a good girl. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he teases, both his hands returning to deliver their ministrations on your tits, thumb unforgivingly grazing your nipples. The motion makes you scream as Eddie sets a quick pace.

"That's right, sweetness, keep singin' for me. Lemme hear that pretty voice" he says, his words making you clench around him.

His hands come off your tits to place your legs on your shoulders, making you curl in on yourself as he leaned his body to make your faces touch.

"Kiss me, baby" and you kiss him with such fervor and need. He hadn't kissed you the whole night. You don't know how much you need him to kiss you until you do and it's like fireworks are going off behind your hooded lids.

His tongue slips past your lips as he keeps thrusting, unforgivingly, hitting your g- spot every. single. time. You whine into his mouth, he chuckles at how needy you sound.

"My baby just needed a good fuck to remember to not put her DnD on, didn't you?" he taunts, an especially harsh thrust follows as you feel his breathing become more ragged and his pace begin to stutter.

"Feels good, huh? Shit, baby you're so tight" he begins and you can't help but moan.

"Feels good Eddie- huh- so... so deep" you hiccup, and you feel close. "Hmm so ah big" you groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head when a particularly well- angled thrust deliciously hits your spongy walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? God- fuck- so gorgeous, baby. Look at you" he rambles. He's getting close.

"Oh fuck, Ed, 'mclosesoclose" you cry out and you're seriously teetering on the edge of orgasm. A few more thrusts and you'd be gone.

"Me too, sweetness, c'mon cum for me" he thrusts a couple more times and the coil snaps. You're clenching and whining and screaming his name while he follows after you, finishing inside you.

He stays there even after he's done, laying his head on your sweaty chest while you both try to stabilize your breathing.

"Feel free to disturb me whenever you want" you say, and he chuckles, giving a soft kiss to your shoulder.

taglist: honey-flustered, fracturedarkness, them-cute-boys, ancientcrone-blog, eveybitch, everythingtodayisthoroughly, jennathinker, @vampysstuff, rubyirene, floriscus, mrsmarch64, fairymunson, capricornrisingsstuff, sole-screws, helloweenfiend, flaminggarbagepail, @squigglebottom, @cozmiccass

[whereforarthur]

Caught Red Handed

Request: this is kinda a crazy one idk but what about where reader is like touching herself secretly whilst george is filming and cos hes got his green screen up he doesn’t realise till afterwards when reader is kinda like flustered

Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

*****

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in.- Charles Hart

"Alright guys," George stated excitedly into the webcam, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he thought to himself, Today we're plunging into the world of indie gaming. I found some pretty weird games to go over."

As he began his recording, his fingers danced over the keyboard and the screen flickered with numerous coloring. His girlfriend, Y/N, sat silently on his bed behind him, her heart beating as she watched his reflection in the monitor.

His bedroom was a crowded safe haven of gaming equipment, with gaming and movie posters hanging on the walls and controllers thrown like plastic confetti on the floor. The only sounds that could be heard was George's voice as he was recording, the distinct hum from the computer and the occasional tap of George's foot on the floor. Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze constant on the green screen that separated her from George. She could sense the heat rising up to her cheeks, as she thought about how good he looked and sounded. The allure almost becoming to much for her to handle.

Could she actually touch herself while he was recording, without him hearing her? She had to test the waters.

Her hand moved under the blanket, her fingertips tracing up along her thigh as her pulse pounded in her ears. She nippled her bottom lip to hold back the gasp that fell from her lips as her eyes affixed on the screen's reflection of George's face. His attention was completely on the game, his voice a steady stream of enthusiastic comments over the pixelated landscapes and quirky characters filling the screen. Y/N felt a twinge of guilt, but it was shortly overshadowed by the building of a different need.

Lust.

The smooth fabric of her pajama shorts teased her skin as she moved closer to the bed's edge. She observed his shoulders, which moved scarcely as he leaned forward, his eyes wide with eagerness. His laughter was like a siren song to her, sending shivers down her spine and sparking a fire inside her. She started to move her hand in a slow rhythm, the shallow and erratic breathing building up in her body.

Her brain was a mess of sensation as the voice of George stirred her desire to a fever pitch. The velvety timbre of his words, the way they rolled from his tongue, created bright images in her mind, each more tantalizing than the last. She could almost feel his breath on the back, mimicking when he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He was completely oblivious to the silent symphony playing out just behind him. The cadence in his speech, the rise and fall of his inflection, set a metronome in her own building crescendo.

The tension in the air was so palpable, she hoped George didn't sense it. She had to tread carefully, the idea that even a small misstep could divulge what she was doing behind his back, literally. Yet, it become thrilling—a potent blend of risk and longing that only turned her on more.

Y/N's touch became bolder, her fingertips dancing across sensitive flesh, tracing the same patterns that George would touch. She felt her body coiling tighter, the pressure developing like a spring about to snap. Her breath stuck in her throat as she swallowed a moan, her eyes locking close for a brief second. The mattress groaned slightly beneath her, a silent hint at what was truly going on.

It was then that she heard it-the faint click of George's chair swivelling. Her eyes shot open, and she froze, her hand trapped under the blanket. The room was utterly still; the only sound was the soft rustle of fabric against skin. Had he heard? A jolt of panic ran through her, the pounding of her pulse in her ears a furious drumline.

But George said nothing, his gaze to the screen as he froze the game in its tracks. He leaned back, rubbing his neck, and she felt a jolt of both relief and dread realizing he was done recording. He was playing the playback, his eyes scanning over the screen with a critical eye. Y/N held her breath, her heart beating so fast it was about to burst from her chest.

Her hand lay immobile, trapped under the blanket, willing her body to calm down. The room was eerily silent; the only sound was George's voice as he muttered to himself. She watched George's mirrored image-the thoughtfulness of his expression as he went over his recording-and she couldn't help the arousal that bubbled at the sight of him so absorbed in his work.

Y/N took a deep, steadying breath and continued to touch herself once more, her hands taking over their silent dance. The guilt was still there, a gentle whisper in the back of her mind, however her excitement was too strong to ignore, outweighing any guilt or doubt she had. The idea of George's reaction, of him finding out what she'd been doing while he was so intent, took her desire that much further. She touched herself with more purpose now, setting her eyes on the screen and the reflection of his shadow playing on her face as she touched herself.

The tension within the room was so sharp you could practically cut it with a knife, the air thick with the fragrance of sweat and smell of arousal. The blanket was wrapped warm around her, every inch caressing her skin with softness. With every stroke, added her closer and closer and towards the edge till her breathing was only let out in short breathy moans and gasps.

*****

And then, it happened.

George's chair scraped against the floor, and he stood up, stretching his hands over his head with a yawn. He reached for the top of the green screen-his hand brushed the fabric, as he went to pull it down. Y/N's eyes went huge, her heart skipped a beat as he commenced to tug it down. Her mind started to race, conjuring up every excuse in the book of how she could possibly explain what she was doing. But there had been no time.

The screen fell away, and she was shown in full flustered glory, her hand buried under the blanket. George's eyes went comically large as his jaw dropped to the floor. For a moment, the only sound was the deafening silence that filled the room. Y/N felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn't believe she'd been caught.

"Bloody hell, Y/N!" George exclaimed, his voice in a tone of shock and amusement. He staggered backward, tripping on a headset that had been strewn across the floor. "What the…?" He trailed off, his eyes darting between her and the her hand under the blanket as the situation finally clicked into place.

Y/N's face flushed a deep crimson as she quickly withdrew her hand from beneath the blanket. "I—I didn't mean for you to see this," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She clutched the blanket tightly, pulling it up to her chin as if it could somehow shield herself from the wave of embarrassment crashing over her.

George's eyes widened in disbelief, a smirk beginning to play on his lips. "So, were you… touching yourself while I was recording?" he asked, his tone teasing despite the evident shock etched on his face.

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor in shame. "I didn’t intend to; it just… happened," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric.

She could feel his gaze on her but couldn't bring herself to meet it, the weight of his stare too much to bear.

For a moment, George said nothing; his smirk fell away into a look of contemplation. Then suddenly filled with energy, he sprang from his feet and rushed over to the bed, making Y/N yelp and scoot back. "You naughty girl," he purred low and smooth, sounding like a growl that sent a thrill through her.

"You were so turned on by me you couldn't wait?" He repeated the words back at her with eyes glinting with mischief. "I had no idea my voice turned you on that much, love." He leaned over her, his hot breath fanning across her cheeks, as his hand began to ghost over her thigh, not too far away from where she was previously touching herself.

Y/N’s breath stuck within her throat, the mortification of being found out morphing into something different as George's touch grew bolder. “I…I think it was just too difficult for me to say no,” she answered on trembling voice. The room fell into a deep silence, thick with an energy that felt like current.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" His voice became low and rumbling, sending a shiver down her spine. His hand slipped underneath the blanket and his palm stroked over hers. She gasped when he took over, his touch sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. "Seems like I need to take over this situation, love."

He leaned in nearer, nuzzling his nose into her ear as his hand continued to explore. "You're so wet," he murmured, full of wonder and lust. "What would make you do such a thing?" His tongue traced the shell of her ear, and she couldn’t help it as a whimper fell from her lips. “Was it my voice? My passion?”

Y/N nodded, incapable of coherent words as George’s touch turned insistent. Her body responded in kind, arching into his hand, desperate for more. “It’s…it’s just…” she trailed off, lost in the sensations.

"Just what?" He prodded, his breath hot on her neck. "Tell me, love." His voice was quiet persuasion, a gentle command she couldn't disobey.

"It's just…" She managed to gasp between pants of breath. "It's seeing you so into it…it…it does something to me."

George’s throaty laugh sent a jolt of electricity racing through her veins. “If watching me play video games does this to you, I can’t wait to see what happens when I'm actually touching you,” he whispered against her ear.

He tugged the blanket off her with one swift movement, and she was exposed to the cool air of the room. She was about to protest, but his mouth went to hers, cutting off any sound she might utter. His kiss was deep and possessive; his tongue sliding against hers as if in some silent declaration of intent.

Y/N's body felt electric, with every nerve ending buzzing. She held onto him grabbing his shirt as he kissed her more. His taste was minty with a flavor that was all his own, and she craved more. The world melted away outside the bedroom leaving just them and the thunderous beat of their hearts.

When George pulled back, she gasped for air, her eyes cloudy with longing. He smiled at her - the type of smile that made her stomach do somersaults. "Should we turn up the heat?" he said , his fingers drifting to the edge of her shorts.

Y/N nodded but her voice was lost in a sea of want. She knew she ought to be so much more embarrassed, so much more self-conscious. But with George looking at her that way, there was nothing she could do but crave his touch. And as he began to peel away the last of her clothing, she realized perhaps she wasn't as secretive after all. Maybe this was what she had wanted all along-his full, undivided attention.

His gaze scoured her bare skin, a mix of need and tenderness that made her feel like the most beautiful person in the world. "You're so beautiful," he muttered thick with longing. "And all mine." His hands mapped the lines of her body, sending trails of fire over their wake, to re-familiarize himself with every inch of her.

Y/N gasped as he pulled her pajama shorts down her legs. George's fingertips brushed the inside of her thighs making her tremble. He kissed her with intensity and care, as if savoring every moment. His touches, both soft and strong, caused surges of longing within her. It was as if he could read her mind, knowing exactly what she needed, and was hell-bent on giving it to her.

As he parted her legs and knelt before her, she felt the jolt of excitement in new, uncharted territory with a heart that was racing faster than it ever had. Yet with George, she knew she could feel safe, cherished, and utterly wanted. And when his mouth found her, she knew she'd never felt more alive, more connected to another human being in her entire life.

The world outside of the bedroom was forgotten, eradicated by the sensations that George was coaxing from her body. His tongue danced with a mastery that made her shake, even as his teeth grazed her flesh with just enough pressure. Her hips bucked against his face, and she couldn't help the whimpers escaping her as she grew closer to the edge.

The room was filled with their heavy breathing, the rustling of fabric, the wet sounds of George's ministrations. And through it all, the steady thrum of his voice, whispering sweet nothings that only served to heighten her pleasure.

"You taste so good," he murmured against her, his breath hot and tantalizing. "So sweet and ready for me." His words sent an electric jolt through her and she dug her nails deep into the mattress.

With a final, lingering kiss, he stood, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed his own clothing. The sight of him, bare and aroused, was almost too much to handle. She felt her core clench with need, and she knew she was close, so close.

And then he was over her, looming above her, the weight of his body pinning her into the bed. His hand found her again, his fingers pumping in and out of her in a rhythm that kept tempo with her heartbeat. "I want to feel you come around me," he groaned, his voice rough and husky, sparking her shivering skin alive with gooseflesh. "I want to be the one who makes you scream."

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes as George positioned himself above her, his hard length pressing into the wet heat nestled between her trembling thighs. "It's you," she whimpered on an exhale, begging him. "Please God… it's always been you." And then he thrust upward inside of her—so hard that for a split moment all she could see was stars.

He moved with an elegance that was both deliberate and unhurried, as if savoring every single moment. Each gesture was imbued with a sense of purpose, and his eyes were locked onto hers, unwavering and deeply focused. The intensity of his gaze created an almost palpable bond between them, one that felt magnetic, drawing them ever closer. She could see the smoldering desire reflected in his eyes—a profound yearning that mirrored her own, awakening something deep within her.

Every movement they shared felt special, almost like a promise between them. It was a quiet but powerful sign of his love and how much he missed her. She naturally moved in sync with him, matching his energy and creating a beautiful connection filled with desire that surrounded them both. When they met, it was like they were dancing to an ancient tune, a rhythm that echoed deep within them and drew their spirits together in a heartfelt hug that they wouldn't soon forget.

Each motion was more than just a physical action; it was a sign of his deep love for her—a quiet promise that expressed his feelings. She responded in the same way, matching him step for step, creating a stunning duet filled with longing and passion. Her body arched to meet his, and they moved together in a dance that felt timeless, a rhythm as old as life itself that echoed in their very beings.

With every move, her hips craved his, creating a primal dance that felt like a part of her very being. Waves of rhythm flowed through her, echoing a heartbeat that resonated deep within her soul, igniting a fire of desire that could not be contained.

In that moment when they were united, their bodies came together in a beautiful mix of skin, warmth, and unrestrained passion—more breathtaking than the greatest piece of art ever made. George’s touch enveloped her, a consuming blaze that ignited every nerve ending, and his kiss marked her as his own—a claim that sent exhilarating shivers coursing through her. It was a connection born from a sacred space, a sanctuary of belonging that wrapped around her like a warm embrace, filling her with a sense of home.

As they neared the climax of their shared experience, a fire brewed within her, a force that felt as if it might tear her apart. Her muscles tightened around him, each breath becoming more ragged and desperate. “I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Almost there.”

“Come for me, darling,” he urged, his voice velvety yet roughened by desire, his breath coming in gasps as he leaned closer. “Let me feel it.” With a fierce thrust, he surged deeper into her, a force that propelled her into a dizzying abyss of sensation, overwhelming and intoxicating.

In that moment, everything around them changed completely, bursting into a mix of bright colors and strong feelings. Her body felt like a beautiful piece of music, with each feeling rising higher and higher, creating a wave of joy that filled her completely. She shouted his name, a powerful declaration that echoed throughout the room—her own song of freedom and surrender. George joined her in this intense experience, letting out a deep, primal sound that resonated within her, making her feel a thrilling sense of togetherness.

As the overwhelming joy began to fade, they fell to the floor in a messy pile of arms and legs, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts still pounding. “I love you,” she whispered softly, her voice delicate like a thread woven into the rhythm of their shared breaths.

He drew her closer, holding her in a tight embrace that felt like home. “I love you too,” he said, his voice filled with a warmth that spread through her heart like a gentle wave. “And I will never let you go.”

For a fleeting moment, they lingered in that beacon of silence, sealing away the weight of their worries and sorrows. Then, with a playful chuckle, George leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Anyway,” he teased, mischief glimmering in his eyes, “try not to distract me while I work.”

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, the sound a soothing balm after the tempest of their passions. "I'll try," she promised, still breathless, her heart racing in the aftermath of their shared intensity, a smile dancing on her lips.

They were all tangled up in the bedsheets, with the computer softly humming in the background, a gentle reminder that there was a whole world beyond their cozy little bubble. But in that moment, none of that seemed to hold any significance. All that truly mattered was the two of them, their deep love, and the shared secret that had led them to this intense moment of pure, unrestrained passion.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @kneelforloki @sunkissed222 @amz824

[dhirajmarketresearch]

[justmeinadaze]

I Want You (Steddie X Y/N)

A/N: "I present to you...this fucking thing..."

Because I'm a hoe. :P

This is from the universe they visit in this fic. You don't have to have read it to understand. Everything that happens here is years before what happens there.

Warnings: Serial Killer Steddie & Fem Sub Y/N, SMUT, sub/dom dynamics, light knife play (no cutting or anything), dirty talk, light chasing, light choking and spanking, a safe word isn't established (yet) but they do make it clear that they don't want to hurt her.

ANGST, starts off with the reader in jail (Steve is her lawyer), mentions of reader "embarrassing" her family, mentions of her getting into a fight while in prison, Steddie do kill someone but the death itself is not described, the person they take insults the reader (calls her a whore), Eddie likes to play with knifes 🫠, mentions of them tailing victims and disposing of them. They do talk about how they only kill people who deserve it (kinda like Dexter).

I think that's it.

Word Count: 6508

Donate to Me

As you slowly shuffled into the visiting area of the prison, Eddie hastily rose to his feet and took ahold of your hand to help you down to your seat.

Your eye was swollen where the other prisoner had punched you when they jumped you in the lunchroom. She got in a few good hits including busting your lip before any guards intervened.

Exchanging a glance with Steve, the long-haired boy sat back down beside you as you sat across from his friend and colleague.

“Did the hospital wing take care of you?”, your lawyer asked barely above a low rumble. 

They didn’t need to ask what happened. 

They warned your father that given your last name you could be hurt or worse if he insisted you should go to prison but he said that you needed to learn a lesson. Kallie tried to defend you; told your dad that you did nothing wrong and explained again how you defended her. 

Like the stubborn man he was, he wouldn’t listen. 

You embarrassed the family and that’s all he cared about. 

“She was drunk and took a swing at a prominent member of society. Thank God he’s not suing us.”

“So you’re worried more about the asshole that pushed me than the daughter that defended me.”, your sister growled. 

“I’m worried about our future, Kallie! I’m doing this for her own good!”

“And if she dies behind bars? What good will that do?”, Steve replied flatly, trying to control the immense anger that was welling up in his chest. Eddie was usually the one to respond with emotion but not him. He always needed to be in control.

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“Yes, sir.”, you whimper, wincing as the tears begin to fall. 

Blinking, he hesitated slightly as he reached for your hand, encapsulating yours with his own. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with us, honey.” Glancing his way, he delivered you a small smile before letting you go. “Like I told you in my letters I’m not…good at showing my feelings but… we’re here for you, Y/N.”

Since you met them, you picked up on their different personalities pretty quickly but understood why they were friends and worked so well together. Where Steve could come off as closed off, Eddie always radiated an energy that screamed he’d do anything that needed to be done. The first time your lawyer smiled, it warmed your heart because you had a feeling not everyone got that genuine side of him.

In court and on tv doing interviews, he played the part of a charming man well. He was suave and intelligent while always engaging but that wit could turn quick when challenged. Eddie wore his heart on his sleeve and could go to a ten with little to no prompting which is why you assumed he drifted more towards computers. 

It allowed him to focus that energy and use it where necessary which (besides being his best friend) is why Steve hired him to help at his firm. With their resources they had won numerous cases which is why your sister insisted on hiring them but your father was the one with the money so there was only so much they could do. 

Over the past four months being incarcerated, they sent you letters and items to make sure you were safe while letting you know you weren’t alone. You found it easy to be open with them and to trust them not just as your representation but as your friends. 

“I can’t stay here another six months. I’m scared.”, you whisper.

Eddie’s eyes met his friend’s stern ones before defying him and pulling you to his chest as his palm held you close.

“Everything’s going to be ok, sweetheart. Steve’s been trying to file appeals but it’s hard.”

“Your dad’s been bribing the judge.”, the other man answers when you look at him with confusion. “He’s blocking my motions.”

Leaning back, you wipe your eyes as you carefully take both men in. Their faces may appear calm but you could feel the worried energy rating from them. 

“I’ll…I’ll be ok. Just six more months right?”, you try to sooth as you force a smile. “T-Tell me about you two. You’re both being safe right? I heard on the news that serial killer has amped up his count.”

“Yeah, princess, we’re being safe. No dark alleys or talking to strangers.”, Eddie teases, smiling when you laugh.

They loved the sound of your laugh.

“Good. Besides my sister, you two are the only people I trust. If anything ever happened to you…I don’t know what I would do.”

***

“What are you thinkin’?”, Eddie asks as they both linger on the opposite side of the empty building they were currently in. 

“We’ve never done something this close to the vest before.”, Steve replies, continuing to stare into the void as he blows smoke from his cigarette towards the sky. 

“Yeah…but what else can we do? We tried the right, legal way and were shut down. I offered to hack into his bank records and expose him but that would put her dad at risk. You didn’t think Kallie or Y/N would want that even after all the evil shit he does.”, the metalhead growls. 

The lawyer’s eyes scanned his friend as he absently flipped the knife in his hand. The man’s own irises had begun to slowly darken as he dipped into the headspace that offered him control. Steve always found it amusing because while Eddie was calculated with the computer and finding their victims, once the person was in front of them he changed into the equivalent of a hamster running on a wheel. 

The man tied to the chair began whining as they listened to him slowly wake up and pull on his restraints. 

“Last chance, Steven. As soon as he sees our faces, there’s no going back.”

When his friend nodded and tossed the cigarette out into the night, Eddie knew he was sure, his grin growing now that they were going to get to satiate that need both boys struggled with, with the added bonus of being able to save and protect you. 

After throwing his suit jacket to the side with their other things, Steve casually sauntered to the judge that had sentenced you, now restrained with wide eyes looking up at this man he had extremely underestimated. 

“Judge White, we apologize for this inconvenience. Usually, my friend and I like to leave our personal lives out of this thing that we do but you didn’t want to hear reason. Because of your selfishness a young girl is currently suffering behind bars for defending her sister. You promised to uphold the law but only when it matters to you it seems.”

The judge mumbled behind the gag before Eddie roughly ripped it off and held his knife to the man’s throat as a warning. 

“You’re one to talk Mr. Harrington! Kidnapping a judge isn’t exactly ‘upholding the law’, now is it, son?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie’s fist flew hitting the man in the nose hard. 

“I’m not your son, thank God, but you do remind me of my father. People like him, you, and Mr. Y/L/N pretend to be these moral men but you’re not. What my friend and I do helps the people. We don’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who are you to make that call!?”

The metalhead hit the man again and pressed the tip of the blade deeper into his skin. 

“Who are you? You were appointed and let the people down. You gloat behind your fucking Ferrari and 3 story mansion while people like Y/N rot, scared and alone IN A JAIL CELL!”

As Steve slowly became more ramped up, he rose to his feet till he was hovering over the frightened man below him. Blinking, he quickly regained his composure and took a step back. 

The sound of the judge’s laugh had both men tilting their heads. 

“Jesus. Out of all the women in the world, you fall for that one. An alcoholic whore with an arrest record now who won’t be able to do anything in this world without ‘a few favors’. Favors you can’t help with financially on your salary, Steven.”, he laughs. “Hopefully she’s good on her knees—MMPH!”

While he mocked you, Eddie himself had been struggling to keep it together. You were always so kind to him and made him feel seen. Steve was one of the few people to treat him like an equal but when you came along, even with what you were going through, you never looked down on him. He wasn’t going to allow anyone to disrespect you and especially not this asshole. 

The judge gritted his teeth as the metalhead removed his blade from his leg and wiped the blood along his pristine button up white shirt. 

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“L-L-Look, boys. What do you want? You want her freed? I can do that—”

“We don’t need you for that. Without you there to block the appeal, the new judge will review her case and this one owes me a favor.” The judge’s eyes widen as his gaze shifts between Eddie’s wild eyes and Steve’s calm demeanor. “I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding here. You seem to believe there’s a route you can take that has you walking out of this building alive.”

“You won’t get away with this! I’m a prominent member of this community! People will—”

The metalhead, placing a fresh price of tape over his mouth, interrupted the man’s pleas as the lawyer smirked, stepping forward. 

“Trust me, Judge White. We’ve been doing this for a while. No one will find you.”

###################

“Oh shit. I mean, hey, hey sweetheart. What, um, what are you doing here?”, Eddie asked when he answered your knock on their door. 

“I just wanted to come by and thank you so much for what you did. I mean…filing the appeal and finally getting me out of that awful place.”, you smile as you glance behind him to see Steve saunter up in gray sweats and a white short sleeved undershirt that showed off his muscles. “Um, I brought some food…as a thank you…I can drop it off and leave if you’re busy or—”

“No, Y/N, don’t be silly. Come on in. Thank you so much.”, the man behind him chuckled as he reached for what you were carrying while his friend met him with wide cautious eyes. “It’s alright.”, you heard him whisper before Eddie shut the door. 

“We’re just, um, doing some renovations here and there so we apologize for the mess.”

Smirking, you gesture towards the nice, expansive living room.

“What mess?”, you giggle. “The only thing messy is you two.”

The metalhead swoons as your hand reaches out to lightly tug on his hair and trails down his chest allowing your fingers to trace the Metallica logo on his shirt. 

“I was with Kallie but after a while I couldn’t sit inside so I thought I’d come thank you.”

“We can understand that. You spent so much time in a dungeon basically.”, Eddie sighs as he helps distribute the food you brought. 

As the night continued, you got to know both boys as you asked them questions you had been dying to know for months. Both men were single but they insisted this was due to their busy schedules. Steve followed in his father’s footsteps and became a lawyer but deviated to open his own firm which pissed his family off. Eddie’s computer knowledge was all self-taught having picked up some tricks through the years from other people as well as felon father. 

“One time I applied for a manager position in the tech department of some security firm but they kept brushing me off saying I had no experience for such a high position so I hacked into their mainframe showing them how good I was finding flaws.”, Eddie cackled as your laugh warmed his heart. “Yeah, Stevie had to use his know how to keep me out of jail.”

“What?! They didn’t hire you?! I would have if you showed me something like that.”

“Naw, companies like that have huge egos that are way more important to them than anything.”, the lawyer smiled as he sighed. “After seeing what he did, I asked him to come work for me and we’ve been together ever since.”

“That’s amazing. The two of you saving lives one broken hearted girl at a time.”, you grin as you take a sip of soda avoiding their gaze. 

After glancing towards each other, Eddie’s own smile widens as he gestures towards the radio that had been playing in the background. 

“I can play this song on the guitar.” Steve studies you as you giggle and playfully shake your head. “You don’t believe me? My uncle loves The Beatles.”

Reaching behind him, he grabs his acoustic instrument and begins to strum along with the music as he hums. 

“I want you… I want you so bad…”, you sing under your breath causing them both to watch you intensely. “I want you so bad, it’s drivin’ me mad, it’s driving me…”

The energy in the room starts to thicken and the lawyer catches onto it first as he sees his friend’s eyes darken with that familiarity he recognizes from when they take and dispose of their victims. Steve knew for a fact that Eddie didn’t want to hurt you like that. They both cared about you deeply but that intense need to take care of you and please you… To have someone love every bit of them…even the darkness… was pushing through and even he was struggling to control it as he listened to you sing. 

“She's so…Heavy…heavy, heavy, heavy…”

When his fingers stopped strumming you chuckled as you wiped away a tear that fell. 

“I love The Beatles to.”

The long-haired boy abruptly jerked forward and grabbed your cheeks, bringing your lips to his. It was a passionate kiss filled with so much want, you couldn’t get enough. After moving his guitar to the side, you climbed onto his lap, circling your arms and legs around him as he lifted you up and placed your back on the floor. 

While Eddie’s lips trailed down your cheek to suck on your neck, you glanced towards Steve who was still focused on your features as he watched your mouth fall open. Your hand reached for his face and he tenderly held the back as he brought your palm to his mouth. 

“Want…you…to...please.”

His eyes soften in a way you had never seen before from him. It was almost as if he had never heard someone tell him that…or maybe no one had ever proved it to be true. 

“You want me, baby?”

The subtle crack in his voice broke your heart as you nodded and Eddie fell to your side without removing his lips from your neck as Steve slid over to join him.

##########

You awoke a few hours later with a desperate need to use the bathroom. 

Your eyes flick to the metalhead who was fast asleep on his stomach and you couldn’t help but kiss his bare shoulder, grinning when he adorably groaned and turned his head to face the other direction. Shifting your gaze to the other sleeping boy, your finger gently reached out to move some of his fluffy hair away from his face as you tenderly kissed cheek. 

“Hm. Everything ok?”, he mumbled as his palm lazily came up to pet your head. 

“May I use your restroom?”

“Yeah, honey, of course. There’s one down the hall on the left.”

You smile as you kiss him before grabbing Eddie’s shirt and scurrying to where he directed. After finishing your needs and washing your hands, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was slightly out of place from where they had run their fingers through it and you had little marks on your neck leading down your chest from where they had sucked hickies into your skin. 

Just a few nights ago, you were in the worst place of your life and now you were safe because of these two men who did everything they could to get you out. As you reentered the hallway, you glanced up stairs and in your giddy state, curiosity got the better of you. 

The first bedroom you found was Steve’s, assumed by the cleanliness and strong smell of cologne. Your fingers grazed his dresser as you browsed the many scents and sticky notes along the mirror reminding him of things like meetings or court dates. By his bed, he had a pack of cigarettes and note pad with what you thought were case notes before actually taking in the words on the page.

“-Dick called her a name again. Sister said he doesn’t mean it he’s just angry. I don’t care. I don’t like the way he talks about her.

-Munson found evidence in bank account, dick bribing to keep her unhappy to “teach her a lesson”. Fucker.

-Emails and messages, calls her a whore…fucking… She’s not…she deserves everything good…”

What threw you off even more was when you opened the drawer and found a small gun nestled on the top. 

“As a lawyer, he probably feels he needs this as protection.”, you told yourself as you carefully put it away. 

Eddie’s room was the complete opposite with his clothes thrown every which way and the strong smell of cigarettes hanging in the air. Unlike his friend, he had a few photos on his own dresser of a gorgeous woman you assumed to be his mother and his uncle hugging him when he was smaller. 

On the wall across from his bed, you noticed little marks that looked like he had thrown something sharp at the material and as your foot hit a box underneath the mattress you learned what had caused them, quietly bending down to open it, finding many shiny, sharp knifes nestled in their foam beds. 

A couple were missing but you found one stabbed into the wood of his bedside table next to cigarettes and, to your surprise, a picture of you next to a notebook. Eddie’s notes were much more chaotic than Steve’s as he scribbled random words and doddles on the paper. One page you found had a sketch of you when they went to visit you after you had gotten jumped. 

You looked so broken and the words around your frame seemed to convey the same except underneath each sentence was another in bold as if he was trying to comfort you.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you out. You’re safe with us.”

“Someone jumped me. It’s ok. I’m ok.”

“Tell me who, baby, and I’ll make them regret it.”

“It’s only 6 more months.”

“No. It’ll be sooner than that, pretty girl. I don’t care what we have to do.”

Blinking, you placed everything back where you found it and began heading back towards the stairs before another room down the hall caught your eye. 

You should ignore it and you know that. You’ve already disobeyed and invaded their privacy by coming upstairs but…curiosity got the better of you. 

The door creaked louder than you wanted it to as you gradually opened it and tiptoed inside. There was a desk with a desktop that had multiple monitors with another notebook beside it; Eddie’s handwriting scrawled throughout. 

“Transactions every week, same time from Mr. Y/L/N to Judge White… 5 grand…

Schedule: due to be in court Tuesday.

Takes Ferrari back home at 7pm. 

Camera on front and back entrances. (disabled)

No wife or children

Sometimes picks up a woman on Field St for the night.

Vacant building 5 miles away.”

Backing towards the other side, you noticed photos on the adjacent wall of Judge White as well as the missing knife stabbed into one of the images of him getting in his car. On the floor was a black trash bag and as you shakily opened it, you noticed one of Steve’s suits caked in what appeared to be dried blood. 

Your mouth fell open as a tear slid down your cheek but as you turned to head back downstairs, you bumped into a broad chest promptly meeting the lawyer’s angry irises. 

Covering your mouth and pulling you to his chest, Steve effortlessly carried you back downstairs where the other boy was pacing. 

“Did she…?”

“I told you to burn all the stuff upstairs yesterday.”, he growled as he used his free hand to point furiously his way. “This is your fucking fault.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened in a way you had never seen from this kind man before as he stood up straighter and his head tilted. 

“You’re the one that let her in the fucking house.”

“I didn’t think she’d misbehave.”, he hissed into your ear. “Especially not after everything we’ve done for her.”

The lawyer felt your lips moving against his palm and he lowered it slightly to allow you to speak. 

“I’m sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean to… I just—”

Covering your mouth again, he grunted in frustration as he slammed his fist against the wall. This was new behavior for you to witness when it came to him. Usually, Steve was calm and in control but right now he seemed…wild…and that scared you but not for the reason they would think. 

Eddie noticed first that unlike other people caught by them, you weren’t fighting against his friend’s hold. Your eyes didn’t reflect fear but worry, not for yourself…but Steve.

“Harrington.”

“WHAT?!”, he screamed making your jump as the metalhead narrowed his eyes. 

“Let her go.”

“I can’t do that, Ed—”

“Let. Her. Go.”

The deep rumble that left his friend’s throat had his own head tilting; even more so when a little whine only he heard left yours. Slowly, the man lifted his arms expecting you to bolt out the front door but when you instead turned to circle your limbs around him…he was surprised. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey. I just…I wanted to know more about you…and I got curious. I should have just asked. I’m sorry. Please, Steve, don’t be upset.”

He’d be lying if he said he knew how to respond. Instead, he carefully unhooked you from his waist and took a couple steps back to sit on the armchair behind him. His amber eyes remained locked on yours as you did the same, placing yourself on the couch.

Eddie startled you slightly eliciting a small squeak when he jumped over the back of the sofa and balanced on his heels beside you. His long fingers reach out to move some of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but sigh as your eyes close, absorbing his touch. 

“I told you she was perfect, Steve.”

“Hang on a minute—”

“She’s not scared of us at all.”

“She hasn’t seen the real us yet—”

“Why are you trying to ruin this!?”

Just as the lawyer leaned forward, prepared to yell at his friend, your own palm extended out to caress the metalhead’s cheek. 

“It’s ok, baby. Let him think. He’s analytical…like Kallie. Kallie always thinks before reacting. I’m the opposite…obviously.”, you reply with a nervous chuckle.

“Kallie doesn’t kill people.”

“Neither do you.” Steve’s eyes narrow in confusion at your response. “I’ve known you for a while now. You’ve been…incredibly kind and loving to me and my sister… I’ve seen how you both are with the people around you. If…if you are hurting people…they probably deserve it…right? L-Like Judge White?”

“Your father wasn’t the only one he was taking bribes from. Add in all girls he picked up and used from the street. He didn’t even pay them, Y/N. He’d threaten them, fuck them, and send them back like they were trash.”, Eddie growled, closing his eyes as he tried to control his anger. “He still had the nerve to disrespect you even when we had him tied to a chair—”

“Edward.”, Steve interrupted with a low rumble. “You’re right, Y/N. I am more analytical whereas my friend is mostly emotions. This is how he really is…especially when he steps into that particular headspace… he’s harder to control but when he’s hunting…whether it be online or out in the world…he’s zeroed in and focused. Add in the fact that he’s amazing with a knife.”

At the word, Eddie grabs one you hadn’t noticed nearby and it rings through the air as he holds the sharp side to your cheek. Again, you don’t flinch or show fear and again he swoons. 

“Fuck me, you’re so beautiful.”, the metalhead whines as his nose replaces the blade and his breath warms your face. “I told him, sweetheart. I told Steve you were perfect and you deserved the world.”, he panted as his fingertips ghosted along your inner thigh. “You like this, baby girl. I can feel how warm you are between these sexy fucking legs. I bet that pussy is dripping. Fuuuuuuck and you’re wearing my shirt to—”

“Munson.”

This time Steve’s voice radiated authority, deep with a particular note of anger that had your head lulling towards Eddie’s smiling lips. 

“W-What are you like? In that headspace?”, you murmur breathily.

“You mean what am I really like?” His chest vibrates as a cool laugh escapes him. “I’m like him…I just hold it in better. I like control.”

“So do I—”

“No, little girl, you don’t!”, he snaps cutting you off. “Not the way we do it.”

“How would you know? I imagine no one’s ever seen you both like this before. I mean…no one who actually cared about you and wanted to be with you.”

“No one cares about us.”

At his sullen remark, you slowly rise from the couch and carefully climb into his lap, resting your head on his chest as you wrap your arm around his neck and twirl your finger in his hair. 

“I do. I care about you both a lot. Besides my sister, you’re the only people who actually seemed to give a damn. You wrote me letters and made me feel safe. Every time you visited me or called; every time I heard your voices… I knew everything would be ok.”

You felt it above your head, his jawline twitch as his chest rose and fell. The arms he had resting beside him gradually came up to wrap around you and you could barely contain the giddy pride that ran through you at the feeling. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Steve, either of you. Eddie’s right…I like this…” Grasping his hand in yours, you slowly glide it along your skin, between your legs till his fingers graze the slick sticking to your inner thighs. “I want you.”

His hair wipes to the side as his eyes meet yours. 

“You want me?”

“Yes, Sir. I want you both.”

Within his eyes, you see multiple emotions flash through them before finally darkening once more. 

“Show me. Show me how much you want me.”

Your eyes never left his as you slid down on to your knees between his legs and reached into his boxers to free his cock. When your lips delicately kissed his mushroom head, his whole body down to his toes shuddered in pleasure. 

“How does Mr. Harrington like it, baby, tell me.”, you whimper as your tongue darts out to lick his slit down the long vein that traced his massive size to his balls. 

“I don’t—fuck—I don’t want to hurt you.”, he whispered, his eyes squeezing shut as his fingers dug into the furniture. 

“That’s not what I asked.”, you giggle causing him to glare down at you at the sound. This time, your head leans to your left as you visually take him in. “Oh…I see…”, you nod as you let him go and rise to your feet, backing away slowly. 

Steve’s fury practically radiated from him as your gaze shifted to Eddie who was still balancing on his heels as his earnest eyes followed your every step with a smirk on his lips. 

“Ok.”, you repeat before turning to sprint in the opposite direction.

You manage to make it all the way up the stairs again before you’re grabbed by the leg and tumble to the ground. A ringed hand grabs your bicep preventing you from falling to hard and the long-haired boy’s husky voice fills your ear as he places his whole body on top of yours. 

“Didn’t get very far did you pretty girl?”

You push back against him but all that does is make him laugh as you feel his arm bend back and his fingers glide effortlessly through your folds.

“Fuck, baby, I knew you were dripping. I could fucking smell it.” 

As he breached your entrance with two of his fingers, you noticed a set of feet step over you both and Steve kneeling down in front of you. 

With his free hand, Eddie lifted you till you were on your palms and knees as the other boy pulled back your hair with his first. 

“I said…show me how much you fucking want me.”

Utilizing your hand, you grabbed his cock and enveloped him into your mouth greedily while his friend pumped his fingers into you at a fast pace. 

“Do you hear that, Steve? Oh my god. I’m gonna bust faster than I did when I lost my virginity. My dick is so fucking hard, Y/N.”

Holding your hair tighter in his grasp, the lawyer thrust his hips, pushing his length to the back of your throat as you gag. 

“That’s it, little girl. You said you fucking want us—shit—this is fucking us.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t…I need to…” Eddie had never bothered to put on any item of clothing like his friend so it didn’t take him long to position himself behind you to guide his cock inside your entrance. 

The cool metal of his rings stung a bit as his palm came down hard on your ass as he thrust his hips roughly into yours.

“Told you, honey. No self-control.”, Steve chuckled before pulling out to allow you to collect some air. “Like a fucking animal.”

It was Eddie’s turn to tangle his fingers in your hair as he pulled till your back arched and you mewled as his dick overwhelmed you filling you so completely that it felt like your pussy was made for him. 

“You like how my cock feels, dirty girl?”

“Y-Yes…oh ma…Goood…”

“H-He’s right. I am a fucking animal. M-My knife has slit so many throats but—f-fuck—baby, when I killed that fucking asshole—”

“Eddie.”, Steve scolded but was met with wild eyes you didn’t see. 

“Fuck off, Steven!”

“T-Tell me, baby. Please.”, you begged as your forehead rested against his cheek causing him to deliver the lawyer an “I told you so” smile.

“He…he was so fucking rude. He called you a fucking—mmph—a fucking whore. You’re not a whore and you shouldn’t have been in that cold cell. We made him pay, sweetheart. I-I wasn’t going to allow him to k-keep living while you were in so much pain because of w-what he did.”

“Thank you. Thank you f-for saving me.”

“Oh, f-fuck.”

At your whimpered words, his palm pushed your face against the carpet as his rhythm faltered and he slammed his release inside of you. Feeling him warm you as he whined was all you needed as the coil snapped and you came hard.

You barely had time to come down from your high as Steve circled his arm around your waist and lifted you like luggage as he carried you back to the room he found you in before dropping you on your knees. 

He was on you fast as he pinned your back to the floor and held your arms above your head. His expressive eyes watched your face as slid his cock into your cunt and your own eyes fluttered closed. 

“No. Open, Y/N. Keep them open.” You did as he commanded while he rolled his hips hitting that sensitive spot inside you slow and deep. “Look around you. This is what you want?” As your arms pushed against his grip, he clenched his teeth as he let go of one of your limbs to wrap his palm around your throat and turn your head to take in the photos on the wall. “I said fucking look. Answer me.”

“I want you.”, you repeated. “A-And everything that comes with you.”

Something in your voice slowed his pace and loosened his grip enough for you to look at him once more. 

“I’m not afraid of you…either of you…please, baby.”, you beg as your hand cups his cheek. “Give it to me. Give me all of you.”

Steve’s palm slithered to the back of your neck as he brought your lips to his and began pounding into you. He wasn’t as…animalistic…as Eddie but his pace was definitely rough and overwhelming in the best way. 

When you made love to them earlier that night, they were gentle and generous which you absolutely loved. This dominate energy they were displaying now, however, was perfect beyond compare and the fact that you were now aware they could enter both headspaces made you feel safer. 

Your body shook almost violently as you came, clinging to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. He grunted at the sensation and his head fell into the nook of your neck as he chased his own high before emptying his release inside of you. 

Steve collapsed on top of you as he panted, his cheek against your chest with his head under your chin and your fingers began to absently play with his hair as he listened to your heartbeat. 

“Eddie, why are you so far?”, you murmur as one of your hands reaches for where he was sitting against the wall fiddling with one of his knifes. 

“I didn’t want to…overcrowd you…”, he replied with a softness that told you he was back to the long-haired boy you had known for the past view months. 

“You won’t overcrowd me, sweetie.”

At the term of endearment, his chocolate eyes lit up like a boy on Christmas as he tossed his weapon away and crawled to your side. You hissed as Steve pulled out and both men scanned over your features with concern. 

“It’s ok. I’m just sore.”

After exchanging a glance, they silently rise to their feet and the metalhead lifts you in his arms as they carry you to his bedroom. The lawyer gets a bath going and once everything is ready, your (Eddie’s) shirt is removed before you’re lowered into the warm water. 

You sign pleasantly as they take care of you, beaming occasionally when their eyeline finds yours but Steve’s seemingly unhappy face gives you pause. 

“Are…are you still mad at me?”

“No, honey. I was never mad at you…just the situation…”

“You still seem upset.”

At your small voice, he smiles gently as he gestures around him. 

“I’m not used to the filthy conditions.”

“Rude.”, Eddie teases as he hits his friend’s thigh and the man laughs. “We could have gone to your room, asshole.”

“I thought…your room would make her more comfortable… My room is kind of, I don’t know, sterile? Hazard of growing up with my family.”

You softly grin as you reach for his hand and caress his skin comfortingly with your thumb. 

“You both make me comfortable.”

After kissing your forehead, the metalhead lifts you out of the bath and dries you but when the other man turns to wrap you up in one of his button up shirts you were suddenly gone. The tail end of the towel caught their attention and they followed it to find you taking in the photos of their latest victim on their wall. 

“It’s a little hard to fathom, you know? That my dad would work so hard…to punish me like he did…” Steve gradually came up behind you to remove the towel around you and replace it with what was in his hands. “Did Judge White really call me a whore?”

Eddie, who was now leaning on the desk in front of you, nodded.

“We don’t usually like to…play so close to home…”, he added. “But we tried everything else first, sweetheart, we really did.”

“We also don’t…” Your eyebrow quirks upward as the lawyer gestures towards the floor. 

“Play with women the way you just did with me?”

They both emphatically nod. 

“Where is he now? Judge White.”

“Would you like to see?”

######################

After a short boat ride, you found yourself with them in the middle of the lake on the opposite side of town. 

“Are you alright?”, Eddie asked as you clung to his arm. 

“Yeah. I’m just…I’m a little afraid of the…water…Not the water per say but what I can’t see in the water…like, ya know, sharks.” 

The metalhead smirks when you lightly laugh at yourself and tilts down to kiss your cheek as his fingers tangle with yours. 

“No sharks, honey, only bodies.”

“A lot?”

“Define a lot.”, Steve commands firmly as he brings the cigarette to his lips. 

“Do you EVER just answer a question?”, you giggle. 

Tossing the stick between his fingers overboard, he stalks your way till his face is hovering just above yours. 

“Sometimes.”, he jokes eliciting a wide smile as you push up to kiss him. “You’re fascinating, Y/N. We’ve never met a woman like you before. That being said…”, he pauses as his eyes search yours. “You have no idea what you’re in for when it comes to dating us; the danger it could put you in.”

“I’m not afraid of cops or anything else. I trust you to keep me safe. I know that’s odd to say but—”

Steve’s mouth cuts you off as Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind. 

“How did you do that? How do you know I didn’t mean us?”, he whispers as he rests his forehead against your own. 

“I told you…I trust you… I know your analytical mind may need some time to learn to trust me but I’m willing to wait.”

The metalhead abruptly lets you go with a little oh as he grabs the trash bag they brought and dumps its contents into a bin before pulling out a set of matches from his pocket. 

Steve’s eyes watch you as saunter towards the other man and place your hand on his to stop him, taking the matches, and lighting one yourself. You bring the flame to the cigarette between his teeth as his own eyes take in your beautiful smile and soft features before turning to drop it in the bin in front of him setting all the evidence ablaze.

##################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

I just tagged the always lol if you want to be added let know

[stonewall2023]

Will's Queerness is the Emotional Heart of Stranger Things

I heard a bunch of people claim that Will's character was only made gay because of public pressure or because Noah came out. What show are these people watching? Let's look at the themes of each season and Will's place in them.

In Season One, Joyce tells Hopper that Lonney used to call Will a queer and a fag. His bullies called him a fairy. He spends the season "hiding" in the "upside down" and is "pulled out" due to the love of his friends and family. The rest of his friends are also a bunch of misfits from different marginalized groups who get bullied. One of the show's main themes is clearly tolerance for difference and finding safe spaces (castle byers as a metaphor) where you can be yourself with the people you love. Will's queerness here is mainly subtext but that is going to gradually change over the course of the show.

In season two, Will gets "violated" and "penetrated" by an "other worldly creature" outside of his control. It happens near the anniversary of the trauma caused by the previous season. It causes him to become isolated and depressed to the point where it nearly takes him over. Metaphorically speaking, many gay kids go through trauma and develop depression as a result. To break him out of his trance, Will's mother tells him a story about how his drawing of a rainbow ship (not so subtle Duffers) makes her proud, and his best friend, who Will shares numerous intimate moments with throughout the season, tells Will that asking him to be his friend is the best thing he has ever done. This is what snaps him out of the trance. Clearly, this is a metaphor for how many queer individuals suffer from trauma due to their past history of being abused, and how, once again, through the love of family and friends, they can escape the throughs of depression....Also, Will hesitates at the end of the season when a girl asks him to dance, so if you are looking for something that isn't subtext, there you go.

In season three, the theme is the terror and shame experienced when going through puberty, and for Will, he experiences it as a gay kid in the closet. All his friends get a girlfriend, and he doesn't due to his sexuality, which is clearly making him depressed. His friends are spending more time on girls and less time with himself. He retreats into DnD in the desperate hopes of keeping his friend group intact. More specifically, he doesn't want to lose the person he loves: Mike. This leads to a confrontation with his best friend who tells him "it's not my fault you don't like girls", which sends Will into a nervous breakdown as he destroys Castle Byers, aka, his "safe space". Once him and his friends sense the danger of this oncoming monster though--the monster here also being a metaphor for puberty--and what it can do their friendship, they band together to destroy it. Will and Mike make up with each other at the end of the season as Will tells him it was never about the DnD but it was really about spending time with Mike. Mike smiles back. The theme: don't let puberty, societal expectations, and relationships destroy relationships with the people you love...And if we are looking for something that isn't subtext related, Will spends the entire season in the gayest pair of shorts known to mankind and is disgusted by the idea of getting a girlfriend, which he refers to as "gross".

In season four, Will's experience as a queer kid continues its journey out of subtext and moves more closely to text. Will does a project on Alan Turing, a gay computer scientist that was forcibly castrated and committed suicide. Will makes a painting for Mike, his best friend for who he loves, by drawing him as a hero with a heart on his shield. He becomes devastated when Mike doesn't hug him at the airport or pay attention to him, and they get into a fight over it. They then have several heart-to-heart talks where they make up. It is clear in these conversations that Will is head over heels in love with Mike Wheeler. Towards the end of the season, Will gives his painting to Mike in veiled love confession where he clearly uses El, Mike's girlfriend and his sister who are dating, as a cover for his own feelings. Will is clearly heart broken. His brother tells him later in the season, without directly saying it, that he knows he is gay and will always be loved. Will's depression stems from his inability to live as his true self. As Eddie said earlier in the season "Conformity is what is killing the kids". Since Season Four is really only half a season despite its extensive length, we will have to see how these themes play out in season five, but I have to imagine it is going to end up, at the very least, with Will coming out, his friends and family accepting him with love, and maybe even reciprocity from his love interest.

Sixth months after Season 4 came out, Noah Schnapp came out. Oddly enough, Noah Schnapp did so, in part, because it was Stranger Things that inspired him to do so. It was not the other way around. He was inspired by Will's story.

How people can miss these plot points or the major themes of Stranger Things blows my mind. This is queer story about love and acceptance masquerading as a horror and science fiction story.

[kenomacreature]

YES, IT REALLY IS JUST KRIS

No, Deltarune is not a whodunnit mystery

(The beautiful art for this banner was made by CursedMemes420 on Discord)

Okay, I didn't think I'd have to do this, but it turns out the new chapters of Deltarune are apparently an entire two months away still so we all have some time to kill. I'm going to use it to try to convince the last remaining fence-sitters that Kris is, in fact, the Knight, and hopefully maybe even convert some doubters.

The idea that Kris is the Knight has figured prominently in my other writing on Deltarune, such as my essay titled The Magic Circle, and my corollary speculation post about the metaphysics of Deltarune. To be frank, I think reading those two would be a much better use of your time, because I cover a lot of the evidence there too and utilize it to actually present an in-depth analysis of what the game's narrative is about. This post here will be purely lazer-focused on making the case for Kris being the Knight, presenting all the evidence I can think of and debunking the major counterarguments.

Let's begin.

THE POSITIVE CASE FOR KRIS BEING THE KNIGHT

Kris creates a Fountain on-screen

This is the requirement for a character being the Knight and Kris is the only one who explicitly clears it – we don’t even have a reason beyond order of elimination to suspect anyone else at the moment.

Kris does it on the Weird Route too, and in spite of Ralsei having explained the ramifications

This tells us that Kris is extremely committed to making fountains and must have some strong reason to be doing what they're doing, something which takes precedence in their mind over potentially risking the lives of other people, including close friends and relatives. On the Weird Route, the risk they're taking is obvious, but I also want to remind people that on the Normal Route - if Kris isn't the Knight - they're creating a Fountain despite another active Fountain creator still being out there, which is arguably even more dangerous and morally objectionable; Kris would be risking omnicide here.

Kris planned the Fountain ahead of time

Between Chapter 1 and 2, Kris plugs in the TV which they later make the focal point of the Fountain they create. This existing as a plot point at all very strongly points to Kris knowing how the mechanics of Dark World creation work prior to Queen’s explanation. On top of this, them eating the pie just so happens to later give them the crucial distraction needed to be able to slash the tires and have Susie stay over. Then, at the beginning of Chapter 2, the narration (which is often aligned with Kris's thoughts) says that "it is not yet time to wash your hands" when you try to do so, further implying that the chapter's ending is already planned.

Kris generally seems to know a lot of stuff that they shouldn’t

For example, they know exactly what’s going on with our control over them, enough to be able to remove or block our control when they need to, and they're confident enough in their abilities that they taunt us about it, smiling at the camera and such. This meta-awareness could potentially be explained by their numerous connections to Gaster (for example, Monster Teen anxiously mentioning that something happened with Kris in relation to the Bunker). Kris also seems to know exactly how Dark Worlds are influenced by Light World objects, as seen in the following point:

Kris’s Fountain creation method is deliberately paralleled with the Knight’s in Chapter 2

Kris plugs in the TV and leaves it on to ensure that they become the Darkner villain - as it turns out, this is exactly what the Knight does with the laptop in the computer lab. Setting aside the fact that Kris is using the Knight's exact methods, how does Kris even know to do this? Kris does it regardless of whether you inspect the laptop and find out what the Knight was doing. How are they so confident about their ability to properly set up this Dark World, if they've never done it before?

Kris uses the Knight's weapon and tool of choice

Queen says that the Knight used a blade to create their fountain, and shows an image of an identical looking knife to Kris’s. Later, we see Kris use that same knife to create the Chapter 3 Fountain. Kris is also named after a type of knife, and is heavily associated with them in general. Toby laying it on this thick would frankly just be kind of dishonest if it didn't have any meaning.

Kris does not have an alibi for the creation of Chapter 2’s fountain

Kris was established to have done something mysterious and physically taxing with a knife over the previous night. Lo and behold, the next day, someone has used a knife to create a Dark Fountain. Just a tad suspicious, maybe? This is why a number of players figure out that Kris is the Knight well ahead of the actual reveal - because the game never gives a satisfying answer to a question it established (what was Kris doing last night?), while providing clear hints (the knife, the TV flavor text) which point towards the correct solution so its reveal doesn't feel contrived or like it's coming out of nowhere. Some Deltarune fans call Kris Knight "obvious" - but they're evaluating it on blatantly unfair pretenses. Kris Knight was surprising, you just can't expect to cash out an already-revealed twist for a second surprise.

Kris’s soulless scenes seem tied to Fountain creation specifically

Chapter 2’s ending seems very much intended to be continuous with Chapter 1’s, answering mysteries which the previous ending left us with. In both instances they use their knife to do stuff, flash their red eyes, and taunt the player.

Kris actually is a knight

Kris wears knight attire in the Dark World and Toby has referred to Kris as a “sword-wielding fantasy knight”. This is not a trivial point; many of Toby’s biggest inspirations, such as Illusion of Gaia and LIVE A LIVE, figure knights and knight-like imagery very prominently, so the symbology of knights in fantasy seems like something he's specifically interested in, including the fact that they are frequently heroic protagonists. And yet most other Knight candidates have no clear or satisfying explanation for why they would be dubbed a “knight”, and why Toby would be choosing that narrative archetype for them. Certainly none of them have the advantage of being a knight protagonist, which leads us to:

Toby is clearly interested in subversions of the protagonist and antagonist roles

Discussing the SNES game LIVE A LIVE, Toby said this (and I must warn the reader of some implied spoilers):

As far as individual chapters go, I really loved the “Middle Ages” chapter. After all the scenarios with atypical game protagonists, finally revealing a standard fantasy setting with a knight hero as one of the “final chapters” was such an excellent twist for a JRPG, and a perfect lead up to the actual last chapter itself. To think that our heroic knight of justice would end up like that… It’s the kind of wonderful betrayal of expectations that influenced me when I created UNDERTALE as well. You know, the thought process of, “to think the protagonist could actually...” Anyway, I don’t think I’m supposed to say any more about that. To be honest, if anything this LIVE A LIVE influence is even stronger in my current work, DELTARUNE. Not only is the story separated into different chapters, but the player’s character is also a sword-wielding fantasy knight, who may play another role than just a simple “hero”.

To be clear, (and again, spoilers!) Toby here is referring to a knight character who goes from being a heroic protagonist to the main villain of the game (whose title is "the Lord of Dark").

OFF, another big inspiration for Toby, features a playable character who is established as firmly separate from the player. As the game progresses you are invited to question their actions and whether you should truly be siding with them.

In moon: Remix RPG Adventure, the traditional JRPG hero turns out to be the game’s antagonist.

Metal Gear Solid 2 complicates the player’s sense of morality and desires with what the “game” pressures them into doing.

And in Toby’s own Earthbound Halloween Hack, the game constantly questions whether what you’re doing is truly “heroic” or right.

It's strongly implied the Knight did not enter the Dark Worlds they created

This is clearest in Chapter 2, where Queen says she doesn't know the Knight's plans and is just guessing based on their actions (which she also recorded via the laptop's camera). Instead, the Knight is implied (in the laptop flavor text, for instance) to have simply manipulated the room and that this is mostly how they exert their will on the worlds they create. This of course sheds new light on how we are to understand Dark Worlds and alters what we thought we knew about Chapter 1 and Fountains generally. And it's all perfectly consistent with Kris’s methods at the end of Chapter 2.

The Darkner bosses are corrupted by the Fountains themselves, not an encounter with the Knight

Even though the Darkner bosses so far purport to serve the Knight, something which has been repeatedly emphasized is that this is not because the Knight sought them out and convinced them to be their servant, but because the Fountains themselves had a corrupting influence. In other words, the Darkner bosses are generated by the Fountain as villainous servants of the Knight.

This is supported both by in-game evidence:

Queen wasn't always so… harsh.

No, she WAS! She just got WORSE somehow!

It wasn't 'til that DARK FOUNTAIN showed up,

That she started going into overdrive.

"Knight" this, "Knight" that, "Fountain" that…

Like, what does that Knight have going for it that I don't!? C'mon!!

And external evidence:

Timestamped Undertale 6th Anniversary stream, where Toby says the Fountain changed King

Kris being the Knight fits well with the storytelling subtext

Deltarune is loaded with subtext about the Dark Worlds being like fictional stories or dreams, and Kris being the Knight is a great fit for this because it implies that they are creating Fountains specifically to be sealed. Their connections with Ralsei (which I'll explain later) also imply that they are guiding/directing the adventures themself. This also opens up plausible speculation about their motivations, such as wanting to get stronger by leveling up or populating Castle Town.

Kris’s CD Bagel noise is the same glissando jingle that plays at the end of the scrapped animated intro

If you don't know about the scrapped intro, here's a timestamped link to the part in the 6th anniversary stream where Toby discusses it. Basically, a jingle which played during a part where the Knight looked down at the Fun Gang from atop a staircase was repurposed in Chapter 2 as a special jingle for Kris. Below is a comparison between the two (I'm not sure who made it, so sorry for not crediting!), and an illustration I threw together of how I imagine the scene looking like.

Kris is arguably the only one who makes sense for the scrapped intro

If the Knight was seen on-screen, even just as a silhouette and even heavily armored, it would reveal too much about their body shape and size to have it be a functional mystery, and it would ruin the “red herring” that it’s Kris in Chapter 2 (the sole exception being if the Knight was the Vessel). Not to mention that Tenna, who would be featured on the staircase, is not created by the Knight if Kris isn't the Knight, so their inclusion is very questionable. Meanwhile, the appearance of "dual" or "split" selves is a common trope in anime intros, so both LW and DW Kris being featured in the same scene would be understood as metaphorical by the viewer.

Ralsei has extremely suspicious ties to Kris

For starters, Ralsei is the same height as them, looks like a typical Dreemurr, and his name is an anagram of Asriel. It seems very likely because of his horns that Ralsei is Kris’s red horn headband, which represents Kris’s desire to be closer to their family and community. From this, it's a pretty intuitive jump to assume that Kris created him, and thus the Grand Fountain as well.

Ralsei initiates cutscenes in both Chapter 1 and 2 where the player looks away from Kris and Ralsei, and upon returning back to their viewpoints finds that Ralsei has been secretly speaking with Kris alone. Ralsei also seemingly lies in Chapter 2 about having “sensed a dark presence” when explaining why he arrived in the Cyber World - what this line implies about when the fountain was created does not make logical sense with the timeline (we'll get more into this later). All in all it seems rather likely that Ralsei is working for Kris, and has been tasked with keeping the player "on track" (but still invested).

Kris is heavily tied to Chara, Undertale’s morally ambiguous player character

Chara – like Kris if they’re the Knight – had an incredibly ambitious and morally questionable plan which they were working towards, and they also have a knack for taunting or rejecting the player with scary smiles and red eyes. Kris being the Knight seems like it’s continuous with the moral ambiguity which Toby clearly seems interested in exploring with his human protagonists.

Some features of the Fountain seem to point to them springing from Kris’s “will”

For example, the consistent emergence of secret bosses located underground with a shared origin story about being contacted by Gaster, where they learn about their lack of control over fate and their subordinate position to some higher entities, has a lot of parallels with Kris’s predicament, and their ties to Gaster. Is there some subconscious reconstruction happening here? I talk about this in my Magic Circle essay.

The question of the Knight is not presented as a whodunnit mystery.

So far, there’s been exactly one major candidate, and they’ve hoarded basically all of the evidence. The remaining characters are left fighting for scraps – the most popular non-Kris candidate is a minor NPC who happens to say some thematically relevant and evocative stuff and has minor ties to the Fountain locations. But there’s no reason in the first place to suspect that there’s anyone who knows about how Dark Fountains work other than the currently established characters, and even less to suspect they’d have the motivation to create them. We barely even understood who the Knight was and what they were doing until approximately two seconds before it was revealed to be Kris (and no, that’s not a red herring just because you say so).

COMMON ARGUMENTS AGAINST KRIS BEING THE KNIGHT

“Any Lightner can create fountains!”

This is true, no doubt. The problem with this line of argumentation is that it does not suffice to dismiss the overwhelming evidence for Kris being the Knight. Kris is not suspected because they’re a Lightner, or even just because they create a Fountain. They are suspected because there are quite literally no other Lightners with any concrete positive evidence for them being the Knight except Kris. When push comes to shove, there’s just not a compelling reason to believe a more complicated alternative explanation for Kris’s actions other than the simple one that is them being the Knight. Occam’s razor says: give preferential treatment to those hypotheses of equal explanatory power which require less assumptions.

“Kris being the Knight is a red herring!”

You can feel that way, but this isn’t an argument. The idea that the Knight’s true reveal is coming sometime later is just baselessly assumed and used to cash out the red herring objection. Again, there’s nothing wrong with thinking that it’s true – it’s okay to have hunches and intuitions – but you can’t use it as an argument, because it isn’t one. 

“Kris isn’t evil!” / “I just don’t want Kris to be an antagonist.”

Again, it’s hard to argue with feelings. It bears mentioning that we really don’t know anything about the motivations of Kris if they’re the Knight. We don’t know whether they’re an “evil” bad guy. Personally, I find it very unlikely, because Toby is typically in the business of writing sympathetic characters even when they do bad stuff, and Kris is already in a fucked up situation just by virtue of us controlling them. If Toby can make Asgore (of child murdering fame) sympathetic, I’m sure he can manage with Kris, and we’ll all be happier for it because conflict and ambivalence creates interesting stories.

“The Knight wants to cause the Roaring, and Kris clearly doesn’t want that!”

We actually know neither of these supposed facts. Our information about the Knight comes from King and Queen, who both quickly prove themselves to be out of their depth and not very knowledgeable about what they’re doing. Queen herself strongly implies she has never even met the Knight. All we know for certain is what the Knight has done – create Dark Fountains. As for Kris, whether they’ve done or said things which would indicate they don’t want the Roaring to happen, the fact is that with this much evidence against them, all their other actions are called into question. That said, who’s to even say Kris as the Knight wants the Roaring in the first place? Because their name is the Roaring Knight? That could easily just be a moniker for their storytelling purposes.

“When Kris dies, the Roaring happens! How could that happen if Kris was the Knight?”

More accurately, when the SOUL shatters, “the world was covered in darkness” (an obvious double entendre for the game screen going black). But assuming that the Roaring does happen, this doesn’t seem to contradict anything. I mean, Kris’s SOUL is the only thing that can seal the Fountains, and every chapter boss so far explicitly intends to cause the Roaring. It makes sense that the Roaring would happen if they were left unopposed and their Fountains unsealed.

“How does Kris know where to make the Fountains ahead of time?”

This is one of the few objections to Kris Knight I can genuinely respect. I mean, it is quite strange that Kris and Susie always end up going to where the Fountains are through pure accident (Alphys and Noelle respectively send us to the locations where they are, and Kris can't have known Susie would stay over). To explain this, I would point to the fact that Kris almost certainly has had an encounter with Gaster, and one of the main effects of being “Gasterpilled” that we see is having precognitive powers and being able to read “FATE”. This also explains Kris’s extremely contrived action of eating the pie in anticipation of Susie coming over (which is something, to be clear, we need to be able to explain regardless of whether or not Kris is the Knight).

“Kris just plugged in the TV to watch it while they ate pie!”

Disregarding the fact that this would be legitimately horrible storytelling, this is objectively false because Susie points out that the remote is dusty and hasn’t seen use in ages.

“Kris was just preparing a sleepover by plugging in the TV!”

So was eating the pie a part of it too somehow, or just a very lucky coincidence? How can this explain Kris making the Fountain on the Weird Route, and people’s often-cited idea that they are doing this in some bid to warn Undyne? Are we just fifteen-layer deep in coincidences here? This doesn’t seem likely, to put it mildly. There is no reason for Toby to make this a plot point other than to establish Kris knowing Fountain mechanics ahead of time.

“King and/or Queen didn’t recognize Kris!”

This is almost certainly because neither one have actually met the Knight. Queen strongly implies this in her dialogue, and it already seems likely from the fact that we don’t even know of any way to exit those two Fountains except by sealing them – Ralsei says as much. It seems much more likely that the two are, as Queen says, intuiting the will of the Knight from their actions, such as creating Dark Fountains in the first place, and from things like how they arrange the rooms and the Will they imbue the Fountains with.

“But the Japanese translation–”

Yes, King says “command” instead of “will” – except this is every bit as ambiguous as the English dialogue. The substance of the dialogue remains identical: King thinks he knows the will, or command, or goal of the Knight, and thinks he’s fulfilling it. Both lines retain the Biblical overtones, and there’s still nothing proving they’ve actually met. 

“How does the Queen know to call the Knight ‘the Roaring Knight’ if they haven’t met?”

Another objection I can respect. There isn't a particularly clear answer for it, but my personal argument would be that Darkners seem to be generated with certain “inherited” knowledge, derived from a Fountain’s will. If you want to hear the in-depth case for that, you can check out my other essays mentioned at the beginning.  

"Spamton's line about communion clearly hints at Alvin Knight! Spamton has met the Knight!"

Spamton's line about communion is not referring to the Christian ritual, it's referring to Gaster (who Spamton reveres as some sort of deity, clearly). Let's look at the full context:

I USED TO BE NOTHING BUT THE E_MAIL GUY, NOW I'M THE [[It Burns! Ow! Stop! Help Me! It Burns!]] GUY!

[[Amazed at thi5 amazing transformation? You too can]] HAVE A [[Communion]] WITH [[Unintelligble Laughter]]

SOON I'LL EVEN SURPASS THAT DAMNED [[Clown Around Town!]]

BUT UNLIKE HIM I'M GONNA [[Shoot For the Sky!]] AND GET ON THE PATH TO ...

[[The Big One]]

I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO.

[[Hyperlink blocked.]]

SPEAKING OF [[Communion]]

KRIS, DID YOU KNOW THAT THE KNIGHT...

No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to --

TOO MANY EXCESS VACATION DAYS?? TAKE A GOD DAMN VACATION STRAIGHT TO HELL

Spamton's "communion" is clearly alluding to his contact with the "someone" who also contacted Jevil. Likewise, "unintelligible laughter" calls to mind mus_smile, Gaster's signature audio track which is actually a highly corrupted version of Muffet's laugh.

As for what this is communicating about the Knight, it seems to be alluding to them being connected with Gaster - which is true under Kris Knight.

“Kris was scared of the Fountain at the beginning of Chapter 1!”

Since Kris is easily the prime suspect when it comes to being the Knight, it would be absurd to just take their actions at face value. To be frank, we don’t even really need to know what Kris was thinking here, because when a case is resting on as firm a foundation as Kris Knight is, odd behavior becomes something you work to try to explain or reconcile with all the other evidence you have; without the foundation destroyed, the hypothesis can’t be dismissed.

Anyway, the most reasonable explanation seems to me to be that Kris was goading Susie into entering the closet first, since she was clearly reluctant to. Kris can’t risk Susie not falling into the Dark World with Kris, so she needs to go first.

“Kris warns the Kings about the Roaring in Chapter 1!”

This one is subject to the same scrutiny as I described above, but this line has also been massively decontextualized and blown out of proportion; this is a very minor piece of dialogue where the Kings are vainly worrying about their jewels and diamonds and asking Kris about them, and Kris seems to dryly respond that their world is in danger – in other words, that there are bigger things to worry about than their jewels. It’s a cute little joke, and hardly debunks Kris being the Knight. Kris is just roleplaying the hero they’re supposed to be in the Dark World narrative (just as I think they ‘roleplay’ the Knight!)

“Kris warns Undyne about the Dark Worlds and the Knight! Why would they lie?”

Could it have something to do with the Chapter 2 ending where they stage a break-in and presumably lure concerned individuals into the Dark World? Concerned individuals like... the one Toriel called shortly before? I mean, it would be really convenient for Kris if they could guarantee a way for people not to suspect them of being the Knight if that’s who they actually were…

This is not to mention that we're the ones who make Kris say that to Undyne. We have to go out of our way to meet Undyne and pick that dialogue option. But either way, it evidently fits with Kris’s plans, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t strain to say it or something like that.

“Queen says that the Knight created the Fountain that same day!”

Past midnight is still on the same day. Remember that Queen is a computer.

Also, I just want to point out that if the Fountain wasn't created the previous night (regardless of whether it was Kris who did it), the Cyber World timeline seems extremely rushed and shaky. Did a whole rebellion against Queen really form in like, 30 minutes or whatever? And there are more issues with the timeline we'll get into in a second.

“How did Kris have access to the Library?”

The same way we have access to both the School and Library after hours (no one is working at either at the end of Chapter 2) – nobody seems to bother to lock the doors. As per Alphys, there’s no crime in Hometown, so maybe we shouldn't be too surprised.

“How did Kris walk all that way in zombie mode?”

We have no reason to be putting arbitrary limiters on what Kris can or can’t do when soulless, so this is just kinda making stuff up. Kris is doing anime leaps from windowsills; I think they’re fine walking a relatively short distance. In Chapter 1 they also do the strained zombie walk before they even rip the soul out, so this seems mostly to be a presentational thing.

“Why couldn’t Ralsei sense the Library Fountain if Kris created it the previous night?”

As I hinted earlier, Ralsei’s line is nonsensical. For what he’s implying to be the case, it would have to mean that the Knight created the Fountain in the time it takes for Kris and Susie to walk from the Supply Closet to the School’s exit (because we can hear the traffic jam outside, and we know the Annoying Dog went into the Dark World before us, still in the car) – a patently absurd proposition that doesn’t even seem logically possible, even assuming optimal timing. It would also mean Berdly and Noelle were in the room when the Fountain was created, which leads us to:

“Closet Knight!”

Black Chestnut’s video on Closet Knight is definitive as far as I’m concerned, he goes into great detail in explaining how and why it makes absolutely no sense at all and is riddled with holes.

IN CONCLUSION...

Kris being the Knight is a conclusion that is surprisingly marginalized in the Deltarune theorizing community for how intuitive, well-supported and repeatedly suggested by the game it is. In many circles, you tend to get shut down or labelled a "casual" who "doesn't understand the game" if you attempt to start a discussion about Kris Knight, or put forward ideas which are premised on it. If I'm allowed to pontificate a little, I can only imagine that this is because people are simply really attached to the idea that the Knight plotline is a whodunnit which will result in some surprise external villain for the Fun Gang. People have been daydreaming about boss battles against the Knight ever since the release of Chapter 1 nearly seven years ago; to speculative headcanons like that, Kris being the Knight is a rude splash of water to the face, so it perhaps is understandable that people would reject it as "not feeling right". At the very least, though, I hope that even if I haven't convinced you that Kris is the Knight, I have at least convinced you that they can't be so easily dismissed as a candidate.

Thanks for reading! This post is pretty long and I know this topic gets some people heated very quick, so I appreciate the show of faith in sticking to the end.

[dostoyevsky-official]

Doge v USAid: how Elon Musk helped his acolytes infiltrate world’s biggest aid agency

USAid security personnel were defending a secure room holding sensitive and classified data in a standoff with “department of government efficiency” employees when a message came directly from Elon Musk: give the Doge kids whatever they want.

Since Donald Trump’s inauguration last month, a posse of cocksure young engineers answering to Musk have stormed through Washington DC, gaining access to government computer systems as part of what Senator Chuck Schumer has called “an unelected shadow government … conducting a hostile takeover of the federal government”.

Some US officials had begun calling the young engineers the “Muskovites” for their aggressive loyalty to the SpaceX owner. But some USAid staff used another word: the “incels”.

[...] The Guardian has identified three calls by Musk to USAid’s political leadership and security officers in which he demanded the suspensions of dozens of the agency’s leading officials, and cajoled and threatened senior USAid officials to give his acolytes private data and access to restricted areas. At one point, he threatened to call in the US Marshals Service.

One USAid employee said that the calls by Musk, two of which have not been previously reported, showed he had effectively usurped power at the agency even from the Trump administration’s political leadership. “Who is in control of our government?” the person said. “[Doge] basically showed up and took over.”

Security staff initially rebuffed the engineers’ efforts to talk their way into the secure rooms, called sensitive compartmented information facilities (Scifs), because they didn’t have the necessary security clearances. But that evening, Musk phoned a senior official at USAid to demand access for his subordinates, the first of numerous calls to officials and employees of Doge at USAid that have continued into this week.

[...] Inside the building, chaos reigned. Areas that were once declared restricted, with limitations on electronics such as phones and watches, suddenly loosened their security protocols to allow in uncredentialed outsiders. Doge employees were said to obscure their identities to prevent online harassment, a tactic that was repeated at other agencies. And Peter Marocco, the controversial new director of foreign assistance at the state department, was stalking the halls and meeting in private with the Doge employees.

By Friday, things had gone further downhill. After a tense all-hands meeting with senior staff, and outsiders in the sixth-floor conference room, the young engineers rushed around the offices with their laptops, plugging cords into computers and other electronics as they gathered data from the agency.

[...] The argument over access to the Scif had grown verbally heated and senior Doge staff threatened to call in US marshals to gain access to it. During that standoff, according to one account made to the Guardian, a call was again made to Musk, who, as Bloomberg first reported, repeated the threat to involve the US Marshals Service.

Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear.

“It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.”

People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added.

“I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Prank Gone Wrong

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Filnar Go F%$@ Yourself!” was possibly the most disruptive software virus the universe had ever seen.

The program was designed to download itself to a computer, copy the functions of existing software before deleting said software and imitating it, then running its original programming all the while avoiding the various attempts to locate and remove it by security software.

What was strange about such a highly advanced virus was that it did not steal government secrets, nor siphon funds from banking institutions, it ignore critical infrastructure processes, and even bypassed trade markets that if altered could cause chaos on an unprecedented scale. The only thing the software seemed focused on was in locating any information regarding the “Hen’va” species, and deleting it.

First signs of the virus outbreak were recorded on the planet Yul’o IV, but once the virus began to migrate at an increasing rate and latched on to several subroutines for traveling merchant ships things rapidly spiraled out of control. Within a week the virus had infected every core world and consumed all information regarding the Hen’va. It still thankfully had not resulted in any deaths, but the sudden loss of information was beginning to cause other problems.

Hen’va citizens suddenly found that they were not listed as galactic citizens and were detained by security forces on numerous worlds. Trade routes became disrupted as Hen’va systems were now listed as uninhabited and barren leading to merchants seeking to trade elsewhere. Birth records and hospital information for millions of patients were wiped clean as they now pertained to individuals who did not exist.

Numerous software updates and purges were commenced in attempting to remove the virus. Even the galactic council’s cyber security bureau was mobilized for the effort, but if even a single strand of the virus’s code survived it was enough to rebuild itself and become even craftier with hiding itself while carrying out its programming. This was made worse by the high level of integration the various cyber systems of the galaxy had made it so the chance of systems being re-infected was always high.

After ten years every digital record of the Hen’va was erased from the wider universe. All attempts to upload copies were likewise deleted almost immediately leaving only physical records to remain untouched.

To combat this, the Hen’va for all official purposes adopted a new name; then “Ven’dari”. In the Hen’va tongue in means “The Forgotten”, which is rather ironic as the Hen’va have had to abandon everything about their previous culture to continue their existence. The virus had become a defacto component of every computer system in the galaxy and continued to erase all information related to the Hen’va. Even the translator units refused identify the Hen’va tongue and so the Ven’dari needed to create a brand new language.

It wasn’t until another fifty years had passed before the original creator of the virus stepped forward and admitted to their crime. A one “Penelope Wick”.

At the time of the programs creation Ms. Wick was a student studying on Yul’o IV to be a software designer. While attending the institution Ms. Wick stated that a fellow student, a Hen’va named “Filnar”, would hound her daily. He would denounce her presence within the school and repeatedly declared that “what are the scrapings of humans compared to the glory of the Hen’va?”

The virus was her creation as a way of getting back at the student for his constant spite. Ms. Wick was well aware of the dangers it could pose if released into the wild and so had emplaced the limitation that the virus would only infect computers on site with the campus. The schools network was setup that students could only work on their projects within the confines of the institution to ensure they did not cheat and have others make them instead. What she had not counted on was this rule only applied to students and not teachers. So when a teacher brought home several student projects to review and then sharing those infected files with their personal computer, the virus then gained free access to the wider planets networks.

When the Ven’dari learned of this there were several hundred calls for Ms. Wick to be held accountable for her actions, and nearly twice as many made to take her head by less patient individuals who had seen their entire culture erased. Much to their dismay Ms. Wick died shortly after her confession from a long term disease that had ravaged her body for several years.

Much to her delight, she had achieved her goals of removing the source of her mockery.