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wwinterwitch · 2 years

Text

SEX, DRUGS, ETC - s.h., e.m.

summary: just steve, eddie and reader having a threesome after smoking together. that's it (part two HERE)

relationship: steve harrington x eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,514

warnings/what to expect: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), this is the filthiest thing i've written and i'm proud, poly dynamics, weed, flirting, threesome, dirty talk, sex while high, i guess you can say eddie is kind of a dom?, and maybe steve is slightly a sub and the reader is low-key a switcher?, thigh-riding, masturbation (m receiving), face sitting, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, steve has a praise kink, mentions of spitting(?), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), visiting paris, kinda fluffly at the end idk, i wrote this while high so sorry about any grammar mistake lmao

a reblog and/or comment is always appreciated!

**gif is not mine!! if you know who it belongs to please let me know to credit them

masterlist | AO3

"So how does this work exactly?"

Both you and Eddie chuckled at Steve's question, which immediately made him feel like a complete idiot, frowning slightly as he mentally cursed himself for such a stupid question. In his defense, he really had no idea what he was doing, like...at all.

"Well, you put this in between your lips and when I light it, you inhale as deep as you can, hold it for a sec, and then exhale," Eddie explained. "It's okay if your throat burns a little. It means you're doing it correctly."

"And you always hang out here to smoke?" he asked the two of you just to change the conversation, wanting to avoid even thinking about his previous question.

You and Eddie exchanged a look before you replied, "Mostly."

Steve didn't really understand what that meant but didn't ask any further about it, watching as you leaned to take the joint from Eddie's hand to begin smoking it.

"She only uses me to get free weed," Eddie jokes, earning a playful smack on his arm from you. He smiles, happy to have the response he was expecting. "For a moment I thought she actually liked me."

"Shut up," you laughed it off before taking the first smoke.

Both guys just stared at you as you took a long inhale, taking the joint away from your lips only to let the smoke out a few seconds later. Steve couldn't deny that at this very moment, you looked incredibly hot. There was something about the way you smoked that just made his breath catch in his throat.

In his eyes, you are without a doubt the most attractive girl in Hawkins, and he was surprised when he found out you were so close to Eddie Munson, the freak everyone thought had no friends. How he managed to get you to be inside his trailer every week to smoke with him was beyond Steve's comprehension.

So, as hopelessly romantic as he claims to be, he was willing to join you and Eddie today as an excuse to hang out with you.

He watched as you passed the joint to Eddie and just when he thought it was Eddie's turn to smoke, the long-haired guy turned to look at him with a smirk. "Wanna give it a try, Harrington?" he teased.

Steve wasn't so sure. He has smoked maybe once or twice in his life but he never understood what was so great about it. Maybe that's because he didn't get high when he tried it. Either way, he was thinking his next move very carefully because he didn't want to make a bad impression with you. What if he chokes? What if he gets so high that you and Eddie have to drive him back home? It'll be humiliating.

But despite that, he decided to agree. Eddie looked beyond excited, turning all his attention to Steve now.

The three of you were chilling in Eddie's room, you and him sitting on his bed and Steve sitting by Eddie's desk. He stood up from the bed and walked towards Steve, kneeling down to be at his height. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them as Eddie put the joint in between Steve's lips, never breaking eye contact.

From where you were sitting, it was evident Steve was surprised by the way Eddie would lean close– too close to him, but he doesn't look like he's going to complain about it any time soon. That seemed to encourage Eddie, resting one of his hands on Steve's thigh and using the other to light the joint.

Steve did as Eddie instructed, the smoke making his throat burn before he quickly put the joint out of his mouth, couching uncontrollably as he let out all the smoke. Humiliating. But he felt reassured when Eddie begins running his hand up and down his thigh in a comforting manner, something Steve wasn't expecting to enjoy so much.

He's in Eddie's trailer for you, sure, but he'd be lying if he acts like being here is such a sacrifice. Eddie Munson could be lots of things. A freak, a nerd, a metalhead with no friends, a weirdo who sell drugs and failed senior year twice. But he's also insanely good looking. Steve can't deny he's rather pretty, especially when he's looking up at him with a half-smile and his hand keeps going up and down his thigh.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, earning a nod from Steve. "You did good, Harrington."

He did good. Shit, what is happening? Why is that compliment suddenly so ground breaking? And why does he already misses Eddie's touch when the guy stood up to walk back to the bed?

You noticed the way Steve looked at Eddie as he walked away, and you could tell exactly what was going on. The way Steve looked at Eddie up and down while he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, perhaps struggling with the sensation still present in his leg where Eddie's hand used to be...it was evident. You've been in his place far too many times not to realize he's as flustered as you've been in the past.

You lost count of the times you'd find yourself sitting in that very same chair, Eddie doing exactly the same thing he just did to Steve. The silent testing. A grip of the shoulder, a gentle touch of the leg, any seemingly innocent gesture that would help him read someone else's body language. Eddie just knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he got from Steve a very similar reaction he always managed to get from you.

Though Steve was much more evident, and being the one witnessing rather that being subjected to it, you could see what Eddie sees. Perhaps not even Steve realized the effects Eddie had on him. Maybe that's why he wasn't trying to hide in the slightest how flustered he was.

Smirking his way, you patted the empty side on the bed next to you. "Why don't you join us, Steve?"

The invitation seemed innocent, or at least Steve wanted to think that. However, he couldn't shake the idea that you were quite literally inviting him to join you and Eddie on the bed. His thoughts were drifting to a much more darker context, and he tried very hard to act casual as he walked towards you.

That made you realize you also had an effect on him. Not just Eddie.

Lucky for him (or maybe not so much) nothing else happened as the three of you continued to smoke. At some point Eddie turned his record player on, Metallica echoing across every inch of the trailer. Steve was evidently the first one who got high, taking you and Eddie a few more inhales before you joined Steve.

"This feels great," Steve muttered, completely lost in his thoughts. He was laying on the bed now, looking up at the ceiling. A giggle escaped his lips, "I feel great!"

Eddie, still sitting, turned to look at him. "I can't believe I'm smoking weed with the Steve Harrington."

"What does that mean?" he asks, still all giggly.

"Oh, c'mon!" you exclaimed like it was obvious. "The coolest, most attractive, unreachable guy in Hawkins," you added sarcastically, repeating what everyone your age would say about Steve. Not like you thought those statements were false, tho. "We're not the type of people you'd expect Steve Harrington to hang out with."

"Well, then you don't know Steve Harrington at all," he replied, returning to a sitting position. "You forget one of my best friends is literally a fourteen year-old."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at what he said. "I was very wrong about you," he commented.

Steve, feeling bolder now that he was super high, leaned closer to you and therefore closer to Eddie. "And I was very wrong about you."

"Really? And what do you think of me now, Harrington?" Eddie replied, also leaning closer.

You laughed at their clearly flirtatious exchange, standing up from your seat in between them. "Maybe I should give you two more space."

"No. Why? We're all having fun here," Steve protested.

"Yeah, we can all have fun," Eddie agreed, failing to hide the way he was looking at you up and down.

You stood in front of the two guys as they were staring back at you and the image was just...great. The look of need in his eyes, silently begging you to sit back down with them. Oh, this was getting interesting. So interesting, that you couldn't miss your chance to say, "And what are you willing to do for me if I sit back down with you?"

Steve didn't think twice before replying, "Whatever you want us to do."

A smirk formed on your face almost immediately. "Well in that case...I want you to kiss."

Both of them stared at you as if waiting for you to reveal you were joking. When they finally realized you were serious, they exchanged a look before looking back at you.

"What?" Steve asks, visibly nervous.

"You said you'd do whatever I want, and I really want to see you two kiss."

Eddie wasn't complaining at all, so it was only Steve the one that needed more convincing. He looked at you again, trying to figure out if you were joking or not until he came to the realization that you were very serious about this.

To your amusement, Steve turned to look at Eddie and just sat there...as if he was waiting for him to make the first move. Eddie seemed to understand relatively quick, one of his hands moving up to Steve's face, a finger gently tracing his jawline. Steve didn't seem to need any more convincing after that, leaning closer to Eddie until their lips met. As soon as the kiss begin, you could see Steve relax into it, moving his body a little bit closer to Eddie's. Since his hand was still holding Steve's face, Eddie used his thumb to gently pull his chin down, making Steve slightly part his mouth. It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put his tongue inside his mouth, turning what was a fairly calmed kiss into a much heated make out session.

Steve let out a barely audible groan at the action, gladly accepting the kiss. Eddie seemed to get encouraged by that reaction, gently pushing Steve so he could be laying on the bed, giving him the perfect opportunity to lay on top of him, legs at each side of Steve's body, straddling him.

The scene in front of you was just perfect. You practically had to close your legs shut to avoid moving on your spot, trying to get even the tiniest bit of friction to release some of your frustration. You continued to watch them intensely make out until Eddie moved back from Steve to look at you. The guy still laying on the bed looked up at Eddie almost mesmerized before looking your way. "Do you wanna join us, baby?" Eddie asks.

"Yes, please," you replied, completely desperate to calm your needs right now.

Eddie grinned, turning to look at Steve now. "What do you think, Harrington? Should we let her join?"

"Uh...y-yeah," Steve quickly agreed.

Both of them got back into a sitting position before Eddie stood up from the bed to grab your hand and gently guide you towards them. When you two reached the edge of the bed, he sat down and opened his legs so you could sit on top of one of them, his arms wrapping around you to keep you in place.

Before he did anything else, he tells Steve, "Your turn to pick the next move."

"What do you mean?" he asks, visibly intrigued to see where this was going.

"You get to choose what we do next."

You and Eddie waited for Steve to give you any sort of instructions, an idea Steve went absolutely crazy about. He couldn't believe the position he was in right now. In a good way, obviously. He was here just to get an excuse to hang out with you and now he's about to have a threesome with you and Eddie Munson. It really couldn't get any better than that.

"I'd love to see her cum on your leg," he confessed, his mouth almost watering at the mere idea of it.

"Shit, Harrington," Eddie hisses, smirking. "I like your thinking."

"You want me to move fast or slow?" you asked.

Steve gulped. "Uh...slow."

You smiled innocently in Steve's direction, putting your hands on Eddie's shoulders as you began to slowly move your hips back and forth. "Like this?"

"Uh-huh," was all he was able to say, almost hypnotized by the sight.

Eddie's hands moved to the side of your hips to pull you impossibly close to his leg, fully rubbing against him. "What do you want to see next?"

This has got to be the best thing that has ever happened in Steve's life. No. It's not an exaggeration.

"Take her clothes off."

Eddie's smile widened, biting his lip when you rocked your hips at a faster speed, eager to have his hands all over you. The fact that you were still very much high made you feel everything just a hundred times more intensely. He took your jacket off before removing your t-shirt, leaving you only with your bra, skirt and panties. His mouth begin attacking your neck, too desperate to get more of you to wait for Steve's further instructions. As he kissed and bite your skin, a hand gently massaged one of your tits.

You turned to look at Steve, "You like watching us, huh?" you teased, eyeing the bulge in his pants. Steve looked back at you, embarrassed. An answer from his part wasn't necessary. "Would you like me to help with that?"

Steve nodded almost immediately after your question, allowing you to palm him over his pants, making him let out a sound that let you know he was surprise but very much aroused by your action. Eddie smirked against your neck, realizing what you were doing.

"Take your pants off, Harrington," Eddie mutters against your neck, as if it was the obvious thing to do.

Steve was still blushing a dark shade of red, but regardless of his embarrassment he stood up and unbuckled his belt, both his jeans and boxers gone. Your mouth almost watered at the sight, not expecting him to be this big.

One of your hands wrapped around his fully erect cock and he lets out a loud groan at the sensation of your soft hand moving up and down so perfectly. Eddie noticed you were getting distracted with jerking Steve off, moving his hands to his ass so it was him the one making you grind against his leg.

Eddie showed you no mercy whatsoever, the slower pace you carried just seconds ago immediately went faster and faster. Your available hand tangled in his hair as you hold him close, trying to keep your balance. He only stopped to remove your bra before his hands returned to your hips.

He would leave tiny kisses all around your tits before putting them inside his mouth, taking his time with each of them. He'd make sure to tease you with his tongue, circling it around your sensitive nipples.

As seconds passed, your orgasm began building at the very pit of your stomach, making your hand around Steve's cock become sloppy and the rhythm you had got lost, masturbating him at any pace your brain could manage to instruct you, so close to cum on top of Eddie's leg to care about anything else.

You moved back to find Eddie's lips, smashing your lips against him as you were so incredibly close to your orgasm, your moans muffled against his mouth as he continued to make you grind against him at a painfully fast pace. You felt a kiss on your bare shoulder, "Cum for us, baby," Steve mutters, sounding more like a plead than an order.

That seemed to be what completely threw you over the age, pulling away from Eddie's kiss to let out your loudest moan yet, reaching your orgasm. Steve continued to leave tiny kisses all around your shoulder blade while Eddie let go of your ass, allowing you to move at your own speed as you climb down from the high of it all.

"You're fucking amazing, you know that?" Eddie says to you once you're a lot calmer. "Can't wait to bent you over and fuck you with my cock. Would you like that, princess?" All you could do was nod before Eddie helped you stand up. "Look at the mess you made," he commented, staring down at the stain on his jeans.

"It's your turn to decide what we do now," Steve said towards him, earning an ear-to-ear smile from Eddie as he quickly began taking his vest and jacket off.

"Oh, I know exactly what we can do next," he says excitedly. "How about you sit on that pretty face of his while I suck him off?"

The image on your head alone was enough to turn you even more– if that was even possible at this point. You watched as Eddie stood in between Steve's legs, who was still sitting on the bed, helping him take his long-sleeved yellow shirt off, throwing it to the ground. After that, he gently pushed him back to the bed so he would be with his back against the mattress, but his legs still hanging on the side of the bed.

Steve laid there absolutely mesmerized by everything that was happening around him. You taking off your panties and your skirt while Eddie kneeled in between his legs. "Look my way when you sit," Eddie instructed you, sending a smile your way.

Again, Steve had no idea how he got so lucky.

Both of your knees pressed against the mattress before gently lowering closer to Steve's face. The gentleness of the gesture only lasted a few seconds because he quickly grabbed your hips and practically buried his face in between your legs, almost making you scream at the sudden sensation of his wet tongue quite literally devouring you. Eddie still wasn't doing anything, simply watching your face as Steve did his job.

"You like what he's doing to you, sweetheart?" he asked. "Do you like having Steve's tongue all over your pussy?"

"Y-yes," you were able to reply.

Steve was just too good at this, not like you were expecting any different. He was an absolute expert with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. This has got to be the best oral sex you've ever had.

He would lick up and down your slick, making sure to take his extra seconds pleasing your clit, twirling his tongue all around it at just the right speed and sucking on it so incredibly good you couldn't hold all the moans escaping your lips. And then he would go back down, focusing on licking your hole. At one point, he stuck his tongue out and began fucking you with it.

"Fuck, keep doing that! Keep doing that!" you mumble over and over, your own hips moving with him. "You're so good at this, baby. You're doing amazing...oh shit, you're making me feel amazing."

Steve was definitely a sucker for praise, quickly pulling you back down again to resume his attack on your clit, this time licking and sucking twice as intensely as before, making your moans increase in volume.

And as if Steve eating you out so incredibly good wasn't enough, you had a whole show in front of you. Eddie was kneeling in between Steve's legs, ringed fingers holding him by the base of his dick while he sucked him off. And he was taunting you, looking directly your way with doe eyes as he slowly licked him from the base to the tip, as if he didn't know what a scene like that would make you feel.

With the sensation of your pussy getting absolutely devoured and the image of Eddie's nose rubbing against Steve's happy trail because he has his entire dick inside his mouth quickly got you to your second orgasm. Steve made sure to keep you in place so you wouldn't colapse on top of him, slowing his pace as he tastes your orgasm, your whole body involuntarily spasming every time his tongue would touch you, too sensitive and stimulated not to.

"Holy shit," you muttered, trying to catch your breath. As soon as your body recovered from the orgasm, you climbed down from Steve and laid next to him. His hair was a complete mess and his lips were covered in your juices, some coating his chin and all around his jaw too. He looked beautiful.

You waisted no time to lean over to capture his lips in a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue. One of your hands traveled from his lower belly all the way up to his neck, holding him in place as you two made out.

Steve's groans were almost entirely muffled by your lips as Eddie continued to suck him off. At one point you pulled away just enough to look at him, your faces just inches away. He wanted to continue the kiss, but your hand on his neck kept him from getting closer to you.

"You were so fucking good to me," you muttered, watching Steve whine as your grip of his neck tighten. "Could spend hours riding that gorgeous face of yours."

"I– fuck..." he sighs, back slightly arching as he pressed his head even harder on the mattress. "Can I– shit, is it okay if I cum in your mouth?" he asks, looking down at Eddie who continued to mercilessly suck him off.

Eddie didn't reply, continuing to bop his head up and down at the speed he has been carrying so far. That seemed to be enough answer.

"You want to cum, Steve?" you asked, watching him nod eagerly.

"Yes, please...please, I can't..."

You noticed his desperation and growing need as his orgasm approached. And he looked so hot like this, practically pleading with you to cum. He wanted you to allow him that. You leaned back down to give him a quick peck on the lips before smiling. "You can't cum just yet, baby. Can you hold it back for me?"

"I...I don't..." he manages to let out, a complete mess underneath your grip. "Can try..."

"It'll be worth it, I promise," you reassured him, giving him one last kiss before moving away from him entirely.

Eddie, intrigued by what you had in mind, stopped what he was doing to look at you. You crawled to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling, quickly grabbing his Hellfire Club t-shirt to take it off. Your hands would trail from his shoulders all the way down his chest and abdomen before your fingers found his black belt.

Eager for you to remove the remaining clothing, he stood up, looking down at you as he licked his lips in anticipation of your movements. You easily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, removing both his jeans and boxers at the same time.

You looked up at him with innocent eyes and it took everything he had to hold back the urge to grab your hair and force his dick down your throat. While this exchange was happening, Steve watched the two of you while he gently traced patterns all across your naked back.

Eddie's dick was already impossibly hard and throbbing, the tip leaking with pre cum. He has been so neglected during this entire time, choosing to please you and Steve before pleasing himself. You had to do something about that.

Your thumb rubbed against his tip incredibly slow, too slow for his liking. A low grunt escaped his lips as he leaned his head back. He looked back down just in time to see you stretch your arm back towards Steve, who quickly grabbed your wrist to suck on your cum-coated thumb.

"You two will be the death of me," Eddie mutters, visibly frustrated, earning a chuckle from you and Steve.

You turned back to look at Eddie, your face once again just inches from his dick but still not touching him, which was driving him insane. He knows you're teasing him.

"I want to take both of you," you say as if it was nothing. As if that wouldn't make the two guys you were with almost lose their minds.

Eddie couldn't hold himself back any longer, pushing you back to the bed to lay on top of you, his lips instantly crashing against yours. His hips would involuntarily rock, his dick rubbing against your lower belly as you continued to kiss. He hold you so close to his body, he was practically jerking himself off in between your bodies.

He only moved back so his hand would guide his dick to your entrance, not penetrating you, just rubbing his tip against you. The sensation made you pull away from the kiss, moaning against his shoulder as you waited for him to fuck you.

But since you teased him before, he wanted his revenge. That meant he didn't move to enter you fully, simply using the tip of his cock to stimulate you.

"Eddie, please..." you whimper, too desperate to think of anything else. You tried to wrap your legs around him as an attempt to force him inside of you, but he grabbed one of your legs to roughly pull it aside, the movement making you spread wider.

"You want us to fuck you, baby?" he asked, ignoring your pleas. His tip continued to rub against you as he looked at you whimper. "Want me to take you from behind while Steve fucks your mouth?"

"Please, please..." you repeated, getting extremely frustrated from not getting what you wanted.

Steve was absolutely amazed by what he was witnessing. The fact that you used to be on top of him, your hand tightly gripping his neck, feeling so confident about yourself, yet now your nothing but a mess of moans underneath Eddie. So vulnerable, completely at their mercy. They could do whatever he wanted and you'd comply because you were just so desperate for them to give you something– anything.

"What do you think, Harrington?" he turned to look at Steve now. "Should we give this needy slut what she wants?"

"She's been good, I think she deserves it," Steve replied, much to your relief.

You practically gasped when Eddie flip you over, making you lay and your knees and hands. Eddie positioned himself behind you while Steve moved to be in front of you.

"Help me out here, would you?" Eddie quickly asks to Steve, extending his open palm for him. Steve seemed to understand almost immediately, spitting on his hand so he could use that to stroke himself before he would enter you.

You were dying for them to do something. While Eddie stoke himself, Steve gathered all your hair in an effort to take as much of it out of your face.

It was Steve the first one to show you mercy, pulling closer to you so his dick would be right in front of your face. You licked a single strap across his length before putting him inside your mouth.

"You're so pretty," he would compliment you, making you increase your speed just enough as he enjoyed your mouth on him.

You bop your head at a comfortable speed before you pulled away. "Please, fuck me. I don't care, just...just fuck my mouth," you said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not really wanting to hurt you if he was too rough.

"Yes! Fuck my mouth as hard as you want," you replied eagerly, wanting both of them to absolutely wreck you.

Steve didn't seem so sure at first but begin moving his hips to go in and out your mouth. He let out a louder grunt when he felt you moan against him, the sound erupting from you when you felt Eddie entering you from behind.

Both guys were beginning to fuck you, Eddie showing you absolutely no mercy as he rocked in and out of you like his life depended on it. He would bury himself deep inside you before quickly moving back, only to repeat that process over and over at a fast pace. You could feel him stretching you out so good and feeling you up so exquisitely, you knew you wouldn't last long.

Meanwhile, Steve fucked your mouth at a slower pace that Eddie, but said pace was by no means a slow one. He would go deep down your throat as you tried your very best not to gag around him. The tip of your nose occasionally meeting with his lower belly because he was just that deep inside you. The moans you would let out made it just ten times better for him.

Your body was on full ecstasy at the sensation of both guys filling you up and getting off thanks to you. Using you however they wanted to please themselves and, of course, to please you.

It was definitely quite the show the three of you were making. You in the centre of the bed in all fours, one of them fucking your pussy while the other fucks your mouth. All at the same time.

It was a matter of time before Eddie hit a spot inside you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, wanting him to do it again. And he did just that– again, and again, and again. And all you could do is moan against Steve's cock as you lost yourself in pleasure. One of Eddie's hands found its way to your clit, one of fingers beginning to rub circles on top of it at a painfully fast rhythm.

The sight in front of Steve made him almost subconsciously speed up his pace, entirely focused on the way Eddie was fucking you. A few tears began rolling down your cheeks due to the intensity of it all.

You couldn't take it anymore. You wish you could, but the way they were fucking you was just too good to handle, and you could feel your third orgasm rapidly approaching. You couldn’t say anything, you couldn't let them know what was going on, you couldn't scream their name over and over as you cum, because your mouth was completely full with Steve's cock.

But Eddie seemed to know you were close because on of his hands grabbed your hip hard, probably leaving a bruise later, continuing to rub circles on your clit at an ever faster pace and repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

"Shit," you heard Steve grunt, looking down at you with a desperate look on his face. "I'm gonna–"

With whatever strength you were able to find, you begin to bop your head again to meet him halfway as he trusts in and out of you. You were looking up at him, practically begging for him to cum in your mouth.

And only after a few seconds, Steve cum hard inside your mouth, his seed filling you as you did your best to take it all, swallowing what you could as more of his semen was poured inside your mouth.

The show seemed to encourage Eddie, and you can practically feel him twitching inside of you while he continued to fuck you.

He took a few moments to recover, his dick still inside your mouth as you finished swallowing what he gave you. When he managed to calm his breathing just enough, he pulled out of your mouth and quickly begin cleaning the tears that still fell from your eyes and fix the mess your hair had become.

Now that you could talk, you managed to let out a series of "just like that", "fuck" and other series of profanities as Eddie repeatedly went in and out of you. You arched your back and leaned down on the bed, the slight change managing to somehow make him go even deeper inside of you.

Just a few rock of his hips were enough to make you cum impossibly hard around him, holding onto Steve's arm as you screamed out Eddie's name, feeling your entire body on fire.

Eddie reached his orgasm just a few moments after you, the sensation of your spasms against him, your cunt contracting all around him, making it impossibly tight as he gave his final thrusts. You let of a tired sigh when you feel him filling you up, ropes of hot cum spilling inside you, partially slipping out and dripping down your leg once Eddie was out of you.

You practically collapsed next to Steve on the bed, Eddie joining the two of you not long after. You removed the hair falling of Steve's forehead affectionately before kissing his cheek.

The three of you got under the covers of Eddie's bed, you in-between the two guys, snuggling closer to Eddie's chest as Steve cuddled you from behind, his arm over your body and his hand landing on Eddie's upper arm, tracing his fingers up and down his skin.

"We can, uh...it's fine if we crash here tonight?" Steve suddenly asked, feeling way too comfortable with the two of you and too exhausted to go back to his house.

"You can stay as long as you want, baby," Eddie replied, grinning at him.

"And you're more than welcome to smoke with us again," you joked, feeling so tired that your eyes practically closed by themselves.

"Can't wait," Steve replied, snuggling his face against your neck to slowly drift into a much needed sleep.

#eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #female reader #stranger things x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut

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fir3ylolol · 6 months

Text

we want you! pt. 4

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

tw: oral sex, public, almost caught, mostly fluffy tbh, gn pronouns

a/n: finally, a pt 4! i've been busy with school this week, so im glad i got this out lol. enjoy the fluffy old man hehe

word count: 1.74 k

other parts

Ao3

It’s been about 3 days since you last saw Johnny. You’ve got class, and he’s got work. That doesn’t stop him from texting you. Constantly. He’s sending you texts about what he ate, pictures of cute things he saw, and whining about not hanging out. It’s a lot of whining to be fair. But it’s cute. Especially when he sends selfies where he’s making big sad puppy dog eyes.

But finally, you reach another free day. He’s been counting down the days, complaining more that he can’t come over at 6 A.M. sharp. But you need more time than that, and he understands. That doesn’t mean he’s not constantly asking you if you’re ready. Like, every 5 minutes. How does he have this much energy? When you let him know you’re ready, you swear it’s only been a couple of minutes before the knock on your door comes. You open the door, but Johnny nearly bursts in, capturing you in a bear hug as he lifts you slightly. There you hang, as he squeezes you tight and lets out a deep breath. Face buried in your chest, you hear him mumble out, “Man, I missed you.” As he sets you down, you giggle slightly. “You know it’s only been a couple of days right?” He sighs and droops forward comedically. “I know, I know, but! You’re so much more fun than sitting around all day.”

You hold his hand and smile at him, which causes him to stand up straighter, as you speak quietly, “That’s very sweet of you.” He wraps his arms around your waist, gently touching his forehead to yours, smiling out, “Well, I am well known for how sweet I am.” You giggle at him, which makes him smile even more. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever been funnier than when I’m with you,” he laughs with you. You slip from his grasp and grab your bag, walking out the door. “Come on, I don’t have all day.” Johnny quickly walks out after you, watching as you lock the door. But the second you do, he grabs your hand and pulls you along. His steps are fast, and he’s half-dragging you along. As you practically get dragged along the sidewalk, you can’t help but admire his excitement. It’s quite sweet.

He screeches to a halt and you bump into his back. He turns around to grin at you wide, asking excitedly, “What do you think?” It’s a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, an old shader over the worn door. He walks in the door, still holding your hand tight. It’s quite cute inside, like a warm, comfortable library, with large sofas and thrifted coffee tables. He speaks to an employee as you look around before he gets your attention to follow him again. You start up a thin staircase, with creaky wooden floors under your feet. It suddenly opens up to a rooftop area, flowering plants pouring out over the trellis in the center, with comfortable-looking chairs underneath. You sit down, amazed at how picture-esque it is. Johnny whispers to the employee who brought you up, who nods as he leaves again. Johnny sits down with you, smiling at you, which you reciprocate. “What do you think? You like it?” He says softly as he traces shapes on your hand. “Do I like it? It’s gorgeous! How did you know about this place?” You express with adoration. He pretends to be flustered, “Oh you know, I’ve got connections. And I like seeing how happy you get when I take you somewhere nice.”

The employee returns, placing a tray with a coffee pot, 2 mugs, and 2 small cakes on the table before leaving again. Johnny grabs the pot, pouring cups for the two of you. “I’m not allowed to have caffeine so, does hot chocolate sound good?” You nod, before laughing, “Why can’t you have caffeine?” He falters slightly but continues pouring. He coughs before talking, “Well…my daughter worries about me, so she asked me to watch my intake.” Your eyes widen slightly, surprised that it took him this long to mention it. “You have a daughter? Wow…what does she do?” He looks in your eyes, happy that you’re not weirded out. “Well, she works with the Special Forces, she’s a commander. You would like her, she’s funny.” You take a sip from your mug, almost burning your tongue, but quickly end up giggling. “Funny like you, or actually funny?” He snorts, leaning back in his chair, “Those are the same thing, you know.”

You’re glad you’ve lightened the mood, but you worry a little. What if this relationship continues, and she thinks you’re weird? But you forget them the second Johnny meets your eyes again, warm and full of compassion. Everything is good right now. No need for stress. Johnny picks up a fork and grabs a piece of the cake in front of you. He leans closer to you and leads it to your mouth. You take the bite, melting at the taste. You mumble out around the food, “Holy shit. That’s so good.” He lights up even more, taking a bite for himself. He does the exact same, covering his mouth as he speaks through it, “That’s really fucking good.” You both laugh, happy just to be here and experiencing it. You both end up taking your time, enjoying the company, and eating more delicious cake. When you finally leave, walking out onto the sidewalk, you half-brace yourself for another dragging. But he walks slower this time, admiring the shops you pass and staring at you. Until he suddenly stops, leading you down a park path, large trees shading your path.

“It’s nice here,” he finally breaks the silence between you two. You pause for a deep breath before speaking, “Yeah, it is nice. I’m glad I’m here with you.” He squeezes your hand quickly, admiring you with genuine eyes. “You’re so nice, you know that? I’m always so happy with you. I like spending all this time with you.” You wrap your arm around him, leaning into him. He stops walking, looks at you, and gently kisses you. As the wind blows behind you, you lean into him, his warmth and stability and kindness draw you in further. He leans back, looking at you again as you speak, “You’ve been looking at me a lot today. Do I look especially good?” He leans back in, resting his head against yours, “You always look good.” Shivers travel up your spine as his fingers dance along your back. You feel him back up, steering you back along the pathway. “You wanna see a movie? I heard they were showing classics at the local theater.” You nod, walking along with him, trying to shake off how flustered he made you.

You reach the theater, which is across the street from the end of the park, and Johnny orders two tickets to a movie called “Ninja Mime” which sounds familiar. You walk inside and see the poster for it directly inside the door. You smack his arm lightly, whispering to him, “You bought us tickets to see your movie??” He grins, “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to see a classic.” You both make your way into the screening room, completely empty as the final trailer rolls. You sit next to him, lifting the arm rest between you so you can get closer. He pulls you in close, whispering again, “You better behave. I don’t take kindly to talking during the movie.” You nod, but he’s put an idea in your head. The lights dim, and the movie starts, watching as a younger Johnny leaps around the screen silently in mime makeup. He’s fully invested in his own performance, serious face on display. You do a final check of the theater, fully empty besides you two.

You slide out of your chair slowly, avoiding his eyeline. You crawl slowly between his legs, finally getting his attention. He looks slightly confused like he really didn’t notice that you moved. Your hand gently rubs along his inner thigh, which causes him to jump slightly. He looks more eager now, no longer confused. He slightly shifts his hips so you have a better angle, and you unzip his pants slowly. He’s not quite hard yet, gently removing him and starting to stroke him slowly. He moves back and forth, already feeling the effect of your touch. Maybe since you were in public, but you’ve forgotten to care, leaning forward to slowly lick from base to tip, intense eye contact before sinking down. He jumps again, hand clutching the arm tight. You slowly bob your head, trying to keep eye contact and swirling your tongue against the sensitive underside. He bites his hand, a whine lightly slipping out. It only eggs you on more, speeding up slightly to watch him squirm more.

Suddenly, he grabbed your head and held you down against him. You hear a door creak and a few footsteps before they suddenly stop. You breathe through your nose as quietly as you can, looking up to see Johnny, face completely blank. It was impressive honestly. Suddenly, the steps return, getting quieter as you hear the door creak again. Johnny lets go, breathing out a sigh of relief. You sit up slightly, sputtering and coughing. He leans down, grabbing your chin lightly. “God, you’re so hot.” He sits back up, leading your head back down. You eagerly accept, going back down again, moving a lot faster than before. His whimpers could be heard lightly echoing throughout the theater as his grasp on you tightened. You can tell he’s close, the situation has made him more sensitive. You were right, as he holds you back down again, this time hunching over you with a heady moan as he cums right there. You swallow it down, continuing to move your tongue. He starts twitching, still too sensitive. You finally pull away, as he leans back with a tired look on his face. You sit back down next to him and lean into his side. After a few seconds, you whisper out, “So what did I miss?” He snort-laughs as he sits back up, looking at you, “All the best parts.” You kiss him lightly, which he gladly accepts. As you pull away, you whisper a final time. “So, are you gonna leave your dick out the whole movie, or?”

#johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #x reader #johnny cage smut #mk x reader #johnny cage mk11

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itsohh · 4 months

Text

Electra Heart Part 1

A/N: Female reader, I had this idea in my head for soooo long and finally got it down on paper. Idk if I love mk11 or mk1 Johnny more but I do love how they emphasize how smart he is in the new game. I love the idea of being stupidly rich and famous like him and just... him not knowing.

Summary: Being one of Earthrelm's defenders isn't easy. Johnny flirting with you doesn't make it easier but what started as an annoyance becomes something you welcome. Perhaps dating Johnny isn't so bad after all- so long as he doesn't find out that you're an a list popstar.

Word count: 6192

Warnings: None

Part 2 AO3

“There is one more we wait for.” Liu Kang’s voice was calm, patient as he looked at the four men in front of them. Having just being met, they constantly sized each other up. To be Earthrelm’s champions was no small feat. It was only at the hurried sound of feet behind them did the four men turn. Most of them made small glances, interested but not over-exerting themselves but Johnny was the one to truly look.

Your shoes skidded slightly on the ground as you came to a stop and your eyes dated from the group of men before you. Admittedly it wasn't your most graceful entry. The weight of all eyes on you had you freeze a bit before your eyes settled on Liu Kang's. They were gentle and kind most genuinely. Something you didn't often see.

“Oh uh-” You cupped your fist and bowed before him. “Apologies for making you wait. It was a mission to get time off from work.”

“I understand that your career is one of the most presidential demands and thank you for accepting my offer.”

“Anything that gets me out of the house.” You nodded to him and he smiled. With the gesture of his hand, he guided you to a spot next to the men.

“What. A. Total. Babe.” A poorly hushed voice whispered as you walked and the snap of your eyes towards the voice caught the man in the act. Oh, you had seen that man many times before. Johnny Cage himself.

As his eye made contact with yours he completely stilled. Only the corner of his mouth had opened in a comedic fashion and he leaned towards the men in red.

The man next to him promptly elbowed him and hissed out. “Would it kill you to show her some respect?”

“Oh trust me, I have a huge amount of respect.” He grinned and gave you his signature grin.

“Now we are all here-” Liu Kang took control of the scene and commanded attention. “-allow me to introduce you all.”

“You know when the tournament is all done and dusted you should come star in one of my movies with me. I'm always in need of a hot love interest.”

“I'm no actress, Johnny.”

“You say that but I reckon you have what it takes. There's something about you that screams that you belong in front of a camera.”

“Hm, no. I have to go back to work.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as he bounced a little on his feet. The pair of you continued to circle each other, ready for your spar.

“I get being committed to your job but I swear that's always your excuse. How ‘bout this then, you let me take you out on a date?”

“You're a sound salesman's Cage, make them an outrageous offer so then your hard-to-sell offer sounds better in comparison when the second offer is the true one you wanted in the first place.”

“Hey, I would be totally down having you in one of my movies! But yeah, you caught me.”

You took a step forward and his focus was instant. Every move from both parties was highly calculated. “Whenever you talk about her, you sound a bit bitter about your ex. Are you sure you’re ready for another relationship?”

“Ho! I said date but would. Not. Say No. To a relationship with you, god damn.” He tilted his head and put his hands up. “And trust me, there's no lasting feeling there.”

“And why would I want to date you?”

“The question is, why wouldn't you? I mean look at all this.” He gestured towards himself. “I got fame, fortune and the good looks to go with it.”

“That means nothing to me. Fame is a curse rather than a blessing. Privacy is removed for all eternity. Let me guess I become your side piece that you show off then get harassed by all your loyal fangirls that want to screw you. Besides I have enough money to support myself, any more would not bring me happiness. Finally, tell me, is there any intellectual maturity behind those pretty eyes of yours? Any at all?”

“Wow you really put some thought into this, I'm surprised actually. Considering you always say no and all. But uh- you think my eyes are pretty?”

“You ignoring everything I said and focusing on a compliment is so you Johnny in a way that answers my question completely.”

“Just one date, I will rock your world!”

“I don't need my world rocked.”

“How about you tell me what you want from a man and I'll see if I can be that.”

“Johnny, if I ever go out with you it's to be with you, not someone you're pretending to be to please me.”

“I won't change, promise. Just see if what you like aligns with this perfection.” He gestured to himself.

“Maybe if you impress me in this fight. Consider it a wager.”

“Easily. Deal.”

“But if you don’t- you stop asking me. Forever.”

His face scrunched up for a moment and he weighed his head. “Fine deal, I won't lose.”

“I said to impress me. Not win.”

The fight had started with your foot against his head. A kick. It finished with a different kick. One to your head. You had been a second too slow and hadn't been quick enough. It sent you directly down onto the mat in an instant. The last of your strength was gone and pain surged in your sinus.

Your hands flew to your face as you curled up on your side. Johnny called out your name in shock before he quickly ran up to you. His knees slid down on the mats and you could hear his voice next to you.

“Oh shit! I didn't mean to actually- are you okay- oh fuck I'm so sorry.”

You whimpered when you felt his gentle touch on your cheek and where your hand connected with it. “Hey-” His voice cooed before his head snapped up to one a monk that neared. “Go get a healer or something! Or Liu Kang! I don't know what you guys have just go get help.” He hurried and swallowed when he looked back down at you.

“Hey, hey, hey. Let me look at it.” He lightly tugged on your hand.

You were hesitant to move but slowly you rolled from your side to your back, legs still on each other. With a pained breath, you opened your eyes and allowed him to pull away your hands that covered your nose.

Blood had covered them and ran down from your nose over the rest of your face. It was a constant flow but there was a decent amount of it. “Shit your bleeding.” His big brown eyes looked at you with complete concern as he cupped your face. Johnny was leaning over you, one hand planted on the ground next to your head for balance. He swallowed and quickly got something out of his clothing. A white piece of fabric which he held up to your face to capture the blood.

“I'm so so sorry I-”

Johnny's voice was cut off when someone interrupted him. Liu Kang and a couple of monks behind him rushed down to your side and Johnny pulled back from you.

“What happened?” Liu Kang asked.

“We were sparing and I kicked her too hard. I didn't mean to properly hurt her. She's normally so quick to block I-”

“I understand.” Liu Kang nodded and turned his focus to you. Liu Kang took the cloth away from your face and stared at your nose. “Get me something for her pain.” He turned to the monk next to him for a moment. “This might hurt more but may I touch it?”

You made a small nod and winced when his fingers made contact. “It doesn't look too bad, I've had worse myself over the years but I need to realign it. This may hurt a bit.”

He steadied his two hands and you thought he would give you a count down but no- he quickly flexed them and moved your nose back into position. A loud cry came from lips and you snatched your head out of his grasp.

“I'm sorry, it's better that you don't know when it's coming so you don't tense.”

Liu Kang moved to your side more. “Here, let us help you up." He nodded to Johnny to slowly pull you up into an upright position.

It wasn't intentional but you leaned into the warmth of Johnny's support as hurried footsteps approached the group of you.

“Thank you.” Liu Kang spoke and you felt his hand on your knee. “This will help with the pain, may I?”

You blinked a few times and stabilized yourself before you nodded. His hand gently graced your nose as he applied an ointment. The pain relief it supplied was instantaneous and had you sigh.

A groan left your lips and your breathing slowed. “Thank you.” You finally spoke and he pushed up on his heels back into a stand.

He offered a hand to you which you quickly took and he pulled you up to your feet.

“It looks a lot worse than it is, you will heal quickly.”

“Whatever that stuff was, it did wonders.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I'm good now. Thanks really, don't worry about me.” You waved him off and he nodded with a smile. If anyone knew you were okay, it was him. Liu Kang nodded to Johnny before he handed you the piece of bloodied cloth and left.

“I am so sorry I really mean it I’m-” Johnny was quick to apologize when your eyes landed on him.

“It's fine Johnny. Relax, accidents happen.”

“Yeah but- god- I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. I got so caught up and- fuck- I'm so sorry.”

“Johnny, I'm fine really. It was a good hit, I should have been quicker.”

“It is not your fault.” He was fast to defend you, completely obvious from his earlier words.

“And it's not yours either. That's why they call it an accident. If it makes you feel better, you certainly impressed me.”

His concern wasn't killed but was covered up by interest in your words. “Oh yeah? Me breaking your nose is how I impress you?”

“No, allowing me to know something I need to work on impressing me. Which means you won our bet.” You looked down at the cloth in your hand and started to wipe away the blood from your face.

“As much as I would love to know how you like your guys, let's get you cleaned up first.”

Johnny slowly took you back to his room where he got you a fresh cloth and wet it. He slowly started to clean your face and you let him.

“Mmm.” You hummed as he cleaned you up and then took a step back to admire his work.

“There! Good as new, save for the bruising.”

“I like someone that can take care of me.” You caught him off guard and his brows shot up. Johnny placed the wet cloth on a side table and pulled a chair opposite you. He sat down in it as you sat on the end of his small bed.

“Yeah?”

“I also like someone who can make me laugh. Someone who can genuinely love me for every side of me. When I'm quiet when I'm loud. Someone who accepts how important my work is to me and doesn't try and ultimatum that away from me.” He leaned in as you did.

“I like someone who can be genuine and be there for me just to listen when I'm having a bad day. Someone to hold me close when I cry. I want someone who can love me for me.” Your voice cracked a little and you broke eye contact with him.

“I can do that.” He whispered and your lips curled.

“Can you? Or can you just act like you can?” You stood up from his bed and his lips opened.

“I can, I-”

“I guess we won't ever find out.” You shrugged, your voice a tease as you headed for his bedroom door.

“Wait! What about our date?” He asked as you started to go through the doorway.

“Date? The bet was to tell you what I want in a partner. Be them a dude or not. I never said I would date you. Thanks for cleaning me up but now I have to go change clothes.”

As Liu Kang explained how you all would fight to become his champion, Johnny leaned over to your ear. “We have to fight each other huh? If I win you go out on a date with me. Anywhere you want, best night of your life guaranteed.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“Same as last time, I'll never bring it up again.”

“You know most men are normally content with a woman telling them no and listening.” Kenshi huffed and Johnny put his hands up.

“Hey! She's never told me directly no. Only used it as a bet wager. Probably because she likes it and just doesn't want to admit it.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Johnny. You are first.” Liu Kang’s words had Johnny's ears perk up.

“Doing the best first huh?”

Liu Kang called out your voice and you could see the way that Johnny's entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement.

“We got a deal?” He asked as he found his position across from you. A deep breath calmed your body and allowed you to focus.

“You really want to place a bet on arguably one of the most important kombat fights of our life.”

“...Yes.”

“Fine.

A grin formed on his face as he summoned you with his hand.

As you looked at your phone you felt a presence appear.

“You let Johnny win against you.” Without looking up you recognised Liu Kang’s voice.

“And how did you figure that?”

“I've seen you work, seen you practice. Johnny is good but you pull your punches a lot against him. Today was no different.”

“It’s not moral kombat, I'm not trying to kill him.” You looked up and locked your phone with the press of a button.

“True but I believe you rival Raiden. If you won against him I wouldn't have been surprised.”

“Truthfully? Since you said there would only be one Champion I didn't want to be it.”

“You don't believe you could do it?” He stepped fully into the room and sat down across from you. His eyes examined you as his eyes read your body. They softened into a look of realization. “You don't think you can handle the pressure.” He seemed so surprised by the fact it made you press your lips together.

“Yeah. Why are you surprised?”

“Well, doing things in front of an audience isn't anything new for you. I would have thought you would enjoy the spotlight.”

“Not as me though. When I'm up one stage as Nightingale that's another person. She's a mask I put on. Admittedly it can be a liberating mask at times but this is scary being me. Doing something with my name and my face. It's not the same.”

“I understand and I thank you for doing this regardless.”

A knock at your door had both of your heads turn to face it. Liu Kang nodded to you and you spoke up. “Come in.”

Johnny's head poked around the door and landed on Liu Kang’s for a second. “Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“No, we were just discussing the fight. I was heading out anyway.” The fire god stood up and smiled as he left the room.

“Soooo.” Johnny slid into the room and you swore his teeth shined as he grinned.

“Yes, Johnny?”

“Pick you up at seven?”

“From where? Johnny, we’re going to Outworld in a day. You can't be seriously thinking about a date.”

“No, no I mean after all this. Me, you, a world-class view and the best Wagyu you ever had.”

“No.” You folded your arms and his face dropped. Before he could say anything you continued. “You said anywhere I want. I don't want some flashy restaurant. I want at home-cooked dinner.”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were telling me no. Yeah, I can cook for you. Prepare for the best home-cooked meal you ever had.”

“I want to watch you cook it.”

“Come on you doubt my ability? You really think I would purchase food then disguise it as my own cooking?”

“Yes. That's exactly what I think and the fact you brought it up tells me you had thought of it.”

“No way. You underestimate, trust me I know how to cook.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Your house never really felt like a home. Not after your address got doxxed and you were never left alone. Paparazzi loved to sit there and attempt to get photos of you out of costume. In all honesty, you spent most of your time at your friend's loft. As much as you could, she didn’t mind.

That's where you were as you got ready. Lisa smiled as she helped you with your dress. “So what's his name again? I can't believe you went to a monk monastery and found a hot date.”

“Jonathan.”

“And what does this Jonathan do?”

“Some acting.”

“Uh-huh uh-huh.”

“It's not a big deal.” You shrugged as her hands left your dress and you turned to face her.

“Not a big deal?! I don't think you have been on a genuine date since ever. When was the last time you had a date that wasn't a PR stunt?”

“I don't know.”

“Nev-er.” She emphasized the two syllables.

“It's one date and I already know the guy.”

“The fact that you already know him and agreed to go out on a date with him tells me there's going to be wedding bells in a month.”

“Lisa! No way. He's charming sure but I don't know. He might be one for the chase you feel? Might get bored.”

“Girl if he gets bored of you then we're all doomed cause then love isn't real.”

“He, like, split with his wife a few months ago.”

Her face fell you could see concern form on her face. “Shit, that's not great. If the press find out about it they could spin the whole-”

“Homewrecker story yeah I know.”

“You don't even have an album to profit off it either.”

“Yeah, I'm hoping to keep this all on the down low”

“Lips sealed. Where's he taking you?”

“Dinner at his place, it was my pick.”

“Smart.” She gave you a sly smile and tapped the side of her head with her finger.

There was a knock on the door and Lisa pretended to go for it and you scrambled to get to the door before her. A loud laugh left her lips and you glared at her before she disappeared into the kitchen.

You made your way to the door and cracked it open to see Johnny leaning there on the door frame, flowers in his hand. A bouquet of red chrysanthemums.

“You got me flowers?” At first, you thought it was a little corny but then you paused at the type.

“I remember you looking at them back at the temple. We were training and took a break by them. You had the prettiest smile as you looked at them.”

A flush formed on your face at the realization he had been watching you. It was hard to tell when he wore sunglasses almost everywhere. “Here let me go out these in a vase.” You took them from him and wandered back into the loft. As you approached the kitchen a single hand came up from the side of the island and placed a vase on the surface. Lisa was obviously hiding down.

It already had water in it. You put the red bouquet in them and settled them there on the counter.

“Nice place you got here.”

“Oh uh, I didn't decorate it. All credit goes to my friend Lisa.”

“Well tell your friend Lisa she did a good job.”

“I'm sure she knows in her own way.” You mumbled under your breath. “Shall we get out of here then?” You turned to face Johnny as he looked around the loft.

“Right this way.”

Johnny's mansion was massive and in every way, it screamed him. “Welcome to mi casa.” He put his hands up and walked backwards. Your eyes trained over the building as he led you through the building. It wasn't new by your standards, you were no stranger to lavish houses but you couldn't deny the stunning view of the sun setting by his pool.

“And this here is the kitchen.” It was a massive room that had an island that connected it to the rest of the building. It had giant windows without curtains that continued on the view. He pulled out one of the island counter chairs and gestured for you to sit on it.

“Mi lady.” You placed your hand on the counter and sat down.

“Thanks.”

Johnny jogged into the kitchen and started to roll his sleeves up. He started to pull out ingredients from his fridge and cupboards.

“So what's on the menu for tonight.”

“You said no to Wagyu so hope you don't mind pasta.”

He got a pot out. “Mmm, I do love pasta, what kind?”

“Rotini.” He dramatically said with a fake Italian accent.

You watched as he picked up two onions from the cupboard and started to juggle them in one hand.

“Faster.” You commanded with a devilish smirk on your face. His brows shot up above his glasses but followed your request. Faster and faster he went until he threw one up really high and caught the other. It landed in his hand and you started to give him a little applause as you laughed.

“Johnny Cage the clown. How fitting.”

“I may be a fool but only a fool for you.” He tilted his face so you could see above his glasses and he winked.”

“That's so bad.”

“Ah, but you love it.”

You rolled your eyes at him and slipped out of the chair. Johnny watched with interest as you approached and took the onions from his hand. You ran them underwater before you grabbed his kitchen knife and started to cut them on the waiting cutting board.

“Thought I was making dinner.” He hummed and placed his hands on your shoulder.

“Well someone has to make dinner while you're doing your circus act.”

“In that case, we want them in small cube kinda shapes. We only actually need one onion.”

“You just wanted to show off your juggling skills?”

“Uh- yeah! Come on, of course, I’m going to do everything I can to impress my incredibly hot, smart and talented date.”

You shook your head as you laughed and he snatched away the spare onion. To stay productive he reached and got the garlic from a small container on the bench. Johnny pulled out a small bowl and crushed the garlic into it.

“Is this good?” You asked and Johnny leaned over you to look.

“Perfect.”

Johnny leaned over to grab a large pan and placed it on the element before he doused it in olive oil and turned it to medium heat. He grabbed some butter from the fridge and broke some off and added it to the pan.

Johnny lined up a few spices and grabbed passata from the fridge. “I can cook but there is no way I am making my own passata.” He pointed it at you and you held your hands up in defense.

“Never said a word Cage.”

“Good, I don't want any minus points.”

“I'm not grading you on our date Johnny.” You laughed. “Just be yourself.”

“Greeeattt. Because myself is my favourite person to be.”

“Never mind, I take back my words I am grading you and you just lost points.”

He made a dramatic gasp before his lips curled upward.

“Oh, teach is there any way I can get extra credit? I’ll do anything. ” His brows wiggled and you grabbed a tea towel and whipped him with it.

“You’re the worst now shut up, the pans sizzling.”

His attention snapped back to the pan and he took a few steps towards you. When he was close enough to touch you he picked up the onion with cupped hands before he dropped them into the pan.

“Mind stirring the pasta?” He nodded towards it. You grabbed the spoon that was placed to the side and followed his instructions.

“You know, it's pretty crazy we both live in L.A.”

“Yeah, I moved here for my work. I don't think I ever quite made it home though.”

“How come?”

“I don't know, it's so loud and in your face. I think that's fine some of the time but other times I just want to hide away with the quiet.”

“Not a fan of partying it up large?”

“Oh I can party- trust me. I'm no shut in but like sometimes I need to rest. Just curl up in bed on my phone.”

“I get that.”

“Really? You seem so high energy all the time.”

“Ah trust me sometimes the Cage needs to chill at home with a drink. Not often-” He paused. “-But sometimes yeah.”

He stared off for a moment before he snapped back to the onions. Johnny grabbed the small bowl of garlic and dumped it. It sizzled and added to the inviting scent of the onions.

Johnny added the passata and his lineup of spices and continued to mix the pan. “So what do you do for your work? I don't think I remember you saying at the academy.”

“Ah, it's not very interesting compared to you.”

“Awww come on, I still want to know. Considering how big of a deal it is for you.’

“Mmm, I'm an artist I suppose.”

“Woah really?”

“Kinda I guess. It's whatever, I'm not really a fan of taking about it, to be honest.”

“No problem here, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine by me.” He smiled.

“I appreciate it. But what about you? How's the directing business going?”

“Oh fantastic honestly, Mortal Kombat? A massive hit let me tell you. What did you think of it? Comparing it to real life.”

“I uh haven't actually gotten around to watching it.”

His jaw dropped and turned his entire body to face you. “You haven't watched it?”

“I guess I was scared maybe? Like I presume you put someone as me in it and I didn't really want to see myself portrayed?”

“Hey if you wanted me to write you out-”

“No, no, it's not that. I like that you're telling our story I just, ah, I've never been a fan of seeing recordings of myself.”

“You’re not? But how come? Loom at you your gorgeous. A grade triple S for super smoking sexy hottie.”

“It's a mental thing.” You shrugged and scratched your side.

“Look, I don't understand that at all, but I respect that. How about I make a cut specially for you, that hasn't got you in it?””

You laughed and slapped his arm. “No Johnny that's sweet but I'm not going to get you to do that. Look if you want me to watch it that bad I will.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’ll take it.” He pulled out some cream from the fridge and dumped it into the pan. Johnny turned it down to a simmer and got the cheese from the fridge.

Johnny started to grate the cheese and you couldn't help but watch his muscles tense as he did so. You leaned against the countertop with your back and folded your arms.

“How big of a cheese fan are you?”

“Mmm go to town.”

“Hey hey! That's what I like to hear.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, man I was dying there at the academy without it. Practically gorged myself when I got back.” Johnny turned off the element and strained the water from the pasta. He let it sit for a moment before he added the cheese and finally the Rotini.

Johnny fished out a fork from his draw but as he went to try it you grabbed his wrist. Caught by curiosity, he allowed you to direct it towards you where you put it in your mouth.

A moan got caught on your lips as you let go of his wrist and enjoyed the flavours that delighted the inside of your mouth. It was warm and comforting in every way it should be.

“Mmm, this is really good Johnny!”

Despite your compliment, he just stood there stunned “Johnny?”

“Huh? Oh yeah uh-” He cleared his throat and shook off his stunned state. “You go into the dining room over there and I'll bring it out.”

“You don't need my help?”

“Trust me you've been plenty of help, I'll be there in a second.”

The dining room was a lot more separate in its own way. It was on the side of the house and gave a view not to the pool but the large garden outside. It felt in its own way a lot more private somehow.

There were two large solo unlit candelabras in the centre of the table while a setting for two had been prepared.

You found a seat and after a couple of moments, Johnny came through the door. He had a fake moustache on and a tea towel draped over one arm. Johnny held a pair of plates with a metal round cover over the top of them and practically bounced over to the table.

He put one across from you and then one in front of you. The metal covering was lifted and he gestured towards it. “For the lady, our finest Rotini.” A return of the fake Italian accent. “And would she like a drink with her meal? Wine perhaps?”

“Waters fine thanks, I'd like to be able to remember this.”

There was a glint in his eyes at your words and he vanished for a moment. “The finest water we have.” He placed a glass on the table and then poured a jug into it. Johnny placed it on the table and then lit the two candles.

“Now is there anything else we can do for the lady?”

“Mmm, perhaps a dinner date would be nice, just someone to keep me company.” You played along and brought the glass of water to your lips.

Johnny ripped off the fake moustache and dumped it to the side with the towel. “Hey look at all this! Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

“Man, this place has great service.” Johnny slid into the seat across from you and removed the top. He was about to pick up his cutlery when he paused. Then he fished a small remote out of his pocket a clicked it. Behind you, a speaker started to lightly play soft music and you could only roll your eyes.

“Hey got to have a good soundtrack to your life huh?”

“Whatever you say, Cage.” You bit into the pasta and you had to admit he had cooked it to perfection. “I admit I'm surprised you can cook this well.”

“My mom taught me when I was a kid. Credit goes to her. Was a pain in her ass too, I always kept eating everything.”

“Wow seemed like littles changed huh?”

“You love me.”

“Sure Cage whatever you say.”

The meal the pair of you eventually finished and Cage disappeared for a moment when he cleaned the table. You were left alone in the dining room as music continued to play.

“Now, how are you? Looking for dessert because I can get us some if you want.”

“Ugh, I think I'll die if I eat another bite thanks.”

“In that case…” He dramatically held out his hand. “May I have this dance?*

“You dance huh?” You took his hand.

“Of course!” He led you past the end of the table where there was room. “Do you?” His voice was far lower and quieter than usual as you placed your hands against his chest where you leaned into him, far from proper form.

“I do but I kinda just want to sway if that's okay.”

His hands settled on your waist as he soaked in your proximity. “Hey, anything the lady wants.” Johnny pulled you against him and the pair of you slowly swayed to the music.

“I had fun with you tonight. It's been a long time since I cooked for let another cooked with someone.”

“Thanks for cooking for me Johnny. Despite what I say, or when I act annoyed, I enjoyed myself as well. A lot.” You lift your head and looked into his eyes. Slowly, one hand drifted from behind his neck down to the side of his face where you cupped it.

Johnny stayed almost completely still and allowed you to take the lead. Then slowly you started to lean in and just as you closed in, lips just about to touch- a loud barring sound came from your phone.

Snapped out of it, you pulled away from Johnny and desperately went for your phone.

“I'm so sorry I have to take this.” You apologised and answered your phone as you left the room.

“Jackson you said you wanted work like my old stuff, this is like it.”

“Yeah, but a love album? The style might be the same but the messages? This is all different.”

“What do you mean it's not a love album it's a party one. Pop music about sex and shit.”

“I have fucking ears, Gale. I know when a song is about falling in love. Who's the person huh? At least give me a heads up before there's a scandal.”

“There's not- I'm- look” You stuttered as Johnny came into the living room and headed to get a drink but didn't disturb you.

“We can talk about it tomorrow come into the studio tomorrow morning at eight. The actual one, not your home one.”

“What? No, I always work from home I'm not-”

“That was before you delivered me a fucking love album. This is not your old work!”

“But it's the work you're getting from me you can take it or leave it.” You hissed.

“Look, we can make it work we just have to do a little editing. Just come into the studio, no buts. Be there.”

“No I-” The line went dead. You let out a sigh of frustration and combed your hair with your hand.

“Might have only heard some of your side but I presume that was work?”

“Yeah my manager called, I have to come in tomorrow. Look Johnny this has been great really and I wish I could stay but if I'm going I'm tomorrow I really need to get back home and retire.” Guilt formed on your face but he didn't get mad.

Cage shrugged and draped an arm around you. “Don't sweat it, we’ll get you home nice and early. There's always next time.”

“Next time?” You cocked a brow as the pair of you started to head towards his front door.

“Yeah. Next time.”

Admittedly you spent most of the car ride grumbling about your manager as Johnny attempted to cheer you up. Eventually, you found yourself back at Lisa’s doorstep.

“Thanks for the ride, Johnny.” You stood in the doorway as he leaned on the door frame.

“Anytime.”

“I had a good time, that was really nice.”

“That's what I've been telling you babe!” You rolled your eyes at him and snaked an arm around his neck. You leaned in and soon your lips connected with his. At first, he only moved slowly, testing the waters to see where you were going with matters but as you pulled him against you he committed fully.

He pressed against your body as one hand found your backside and started to feel it up. Johnny's tongue danced against your own. Just as he started to get comfortable you broke away. A sound rumbled from his throat and you couldn't help but grin at him. Your hand drifted from his neck up to cup his cheek.

“Fuck.” He whispered and went to kiss your neck, just one last touch. With your free hand, you gently pressed on his chest and he got the idea.

“Goodnight Johnny.” You hummed and you swore he practically whined.

“One more.”

“Next time.” A promise.

“Next time?” He sounded pleased at the motion.

“Sure, got to give these back.” You stole the glasses off his face and escaped out of his grip. One last wink, you shut the door behind you. Lisa popped up from the couch with wide eyes.

“Some actor? You didn't tell me you were going on a date with Johnny fucking Cage! ”

#johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 x reader

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yaut-jaknowit · 5 months

Note

Hey! Hi

I love your work too much I love Mai'tuiudh too much 🥹

If you don't mind, could you do an mlm with a reader who has problems with selfharm and his Yautja tries to console him even though he doesn't understand why his boyfriend hurts himself?

I have been feeling bad these days and if you do it would be a huge consolation 😞 Sorry if I don't know how to express myself well, English is not my native language 😔

A Battle Mai'tuiudh Can't Fight For You

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Reader

Warnings: self-harm, blood, thoughts of suicide, relapse of self-harm, comfort, happy ending.

Summary: Away from prying eyes, you wallow in your sorrow. By yourself. Mai gone. Fresh cuts on your arm. A relaspe.

Word Count:2108

Author Note: I just want to say that if you or anyone needs an ear to vent to, you're more than welcome to. I'm not just a writer but a friend to anyone. I'm here for you. Anyone.

P.s. Don't fret, your English is amazing. Works perfectly for me. If you are wanting more, just let me know. I'm one message away.

P.s.s. Happy Thanksgiving! Here's the second one I'm posting today

Masterlist

Ao3

In the lonesome apartment, tucked away in the tiny bathroom, you sat on the cold, unforgiving floor. Dried, salty trails of tears have evaporated long ago. Time has been a blur. You’ve been stuck inside of your mind since the start of this day. Thoughts running rampant. Thoughts you had to get rid of.

Everything wasn’t fine. No matter what you told yourself. No matter how many times you thought of it, repeating it in your mind. Just hoping that saying it so many times would make it true. But, your wish never became a reality.

It started as a steady decline. Friends seeing you pull away from them. Family hearing from you less. Coworkers seeing you slack in your work. Did anyone help? Did anyone grab your hand and lift you up? To guide you softly back to a safe mindset? No. None of them. Your work grew worse and worse. People screaming at you for messing stuff up. Your friends complaining about never seeing you. Family not taking the initiative. They all left you to be barricaded in your meek bathroom, blood dropping to the floor.

This was the only way of relief you could find without ending it all. You didn’t have the balls to do that. You’ve been so good too! You’ve had dealt with troubling times before. Past scars marring your skin. You’ve been clean! Until today. Your relapse. The day you sought a blade from the kitchen and sliced through your healing skin.

And fuck, it felt good. It released everything that has been building up. All the anguish, the heartache, the pain. Every slice cutting through the past marks to create new ones in their wake.

Your head thunked against the drywall. The sobs that once shook your fragile body had left, left you feeling meek and even more miserable. Both nostrils were plugged up, snot running down. Your throat ached and was dry. Here you were, the mate of a power species. Pathetic and useless to him. Despite the feeling building inside of you to cry all over again, you have long lost the energy to do so. Instead, you just stay on the bathroom floor.

Dried blood stuck to your fresh wounds, staining the linoleum floors dark red. You didn’t even have the energy to get up and wash yourself from the mess you created. No, you just stayed there, limp and wanting to be lifeless.

The bathroom door slammed opened, nearly splintering from the force. A new hole smashed into the wall. You couldn’t even lift your head to see who just about demolished your door. A second didn’t past when you felt hands, hot palms, grabbing at you. Clicks and chitters sounding from an alien tongue you didn’t register in your mind.

Then, you were lifted up, over the tubs edge, and place inside the off-white tub. Cold water touched at your toes, finally forcing you to rouse. You whined and tried to weakly climb from the empty bath. But, a firm grip on your shoulder was all it took to keep you there. Finally, you lift your head to find the alien mask of your mate. His biomask covering his face as he fretted over you.

For a moment, you just stared and realized he was calling your name. All you gave in return was a low hum and going lax. The only thing you wanted to do was lie there. A hand cupped at your face, forcing your head back up to look up at your mate. His free hand pulled at the tubs connecting to the cover and yanked the thing off. It was discarded to the side.

Mai’tuiudh leaned in close. His bright eyes dirtied with fret as they darted across your face then down at the marks on your arms. Chitters and even light whining produced from his throat. Once he had your attention, he released your face to grab a washcloth close by. With it, Mai’tuiudh wet it and began to wash away the blood.

New, unfortunate pain rose inside of you. You squirmed and tried to break free from the unrelenting washing. Mai’tuiudh didn’t have any of it. His voice hardened, though he was speaking in rushed Yautja. At this point, he hadn’t realized what language he was in, just flipping to default at the sight of you bloodied and out of it.

You go lax once more, lazing in the tub, warm water running over your toes. It pointless to fight. You weren’t anywhere close strong enough to fight against him. Useless. Can’t do anything right. Not at work. Not with your friends or family. Not even with your own lover. How can he even look at you without disgust? Just a weak little thing who has to hurt themselves to feel better.

A fresh, hot, single tear rolled down your sticky cheek. Your name is called again. You’re staring at the off-white tub when you hummed in answer. A clawed finger gently picks up your chin, drawing your attention back up to your mate. But you couldn’t look him in the eye. You weren’t good enough for him. You’re a fucking male like him but couldn’t even compare to a quarter of his strength.

Two fingers pinched at your cheeks and slightly shook your head. Mai’tuiudh called your name once more. He didn’t understand what was wrong. For the moment though, he wanted to know who hurt you, who hurt his mate. He’ll hunt them down, tear their skull and spine from their body, and present it to you. A sharp snarl sounded from his chest. Yet, you gave no notion that you even heard him.

His years have taught him virtue and patience. So, he returned to cleansing the slices to your arms. The wounds… Mai’tuiudh found strange. They were purposeful but didn’t look to be aiming to kill. The amount of them as well. Mai’tuiudh couldn’t come up with one conclusion: torture. Someone wanted to torture you. But he couldn’t scent anyone else. Just him and you.

Dislodging the pack on his back, Mai’tuiudh brought out his medical supplies. In your dazed mind, you weren’t paying much attention to him. Not until a blinding, stinging pain raced up your arm. You about shot out of the tub and out the door if Mai’tuiudh hadn’t grabbed you. He forced you to stay but you didn’t stop. So, he had to take drastic actions.

Carefully, Mai’tuiudh climbed into the tub to trap you with his size and legs. This freed up his hands to continue working on the wounds on your arms. Despite the hoarse cries and squirming you did, nothing worked to throw the hulking Yautja off of you. Soon, the pain just dulled to the back of your mind as he slathered the blue paste on your skin.

White, sterile bandages were wrapped around your arms. Mai’tuiudh climbed off of you and stayed knelt by the tub. A hand came to rub his thumb on your cheek bone, soft purrs pouring from his throat. Unlike usual, you barely even reacted to the sound you loved so much.

Mai’tuiudh couldn’t help the whine when he realize he hadn’t won you over. Determined as ever, he scooped your laxed body from the rub and carried you over to your bed. He wanted to make you as comfortable as possible; despite wanting to take you to his ship, though shared with his hunt brothers. He knew you wouldn’t be able to rest easily there.

Thick, comforting covers were draped over you. Warm, muscular arms were wrapped around you, securing you to a chest you were familiar with. The purrs vibrating throughout your body.

After a long, silence-filled time, Mai’tuiudh spoke up. “Who hurt you?” his voice gruff with tension. The fact someone had hurt you while he was gone made him feel uneasy. His mate, wounded, on the verge of Dhi’ki-de – walking death. It had his heart clenching at the thought of loosing you. He didn’t understand how this could happen.

But you didn’t respond, again. With a grunt, he sat up and brought you with him. You were maneuvered to sit in front of him, facing the Yautja. Your head was bowed to blankly stare at the blankets on your bed. You name was called. “I asked who hurt you?”

The words entered your brain, rolled around for a bit before you shrugged. How weak would he think of you if he knew the truth? He’s seen worse, dealt with worse. And you couldn’t handle something that he could brush off. Pathetic. Weak. Meek. A little bug in his way.

He grunted with frustration again. Both of his hands were placed on your shoulders and he shook you to gain your attention. You raised your head to look him in the eye this time. “Who hurt you?” He was adamant. You had to admit that. And he wouldn’t stop until you answered him.

“Me.” Mai’tuiudh blinked. You? You hurt yourself? He shook his head, confused. His tresses swaying with the motion. Both of his hands cupped your face and wiped away tears you didn’t know had fallen. “It was me, okay?”

“Why?” It was the only word he could come up with. It didn’t make sense. If you hurt yourself, that makes you a target, makes you more susceptible to being hunted. You would be seen a prey, weaker so predators could kill you. So why in Paya’s name would you hurt yourself on purpose?! He whined, brows furrowed.

You released a deep breath and let him hold your head up. “Because.” He didn’t want to hear about your problems. You were useless to him, nothing more than an annoying fly. You didn’t know why he stuck around? Is this how he plays with his prey, his food before a hunt?

His brows fell into a deadpanned look. He grunted and shook you again. “Why?” he bit out harsher, hoping it would get you to open up. He knew oomans were more emotional then his own species. This wasn’t something he was used to but surely read up about after he realized he had fallen for you.

You tried to ducked your head in reaction but he held steady. He wasn’t doing to give up easily. This is a hunter, born and bred to wear down their prey. “I’m useless,” you spoke in a voice that he barely could catch. His head jerked, puzzled on why in the universe you, his mate, would think of such a thing! “I can’t do anything right. Everyone hates me.”

His spine tensed at your words. The feeling to dig his claws into something grew inside of him. Someone had planted those vile thoughts into your susceptible mind. He snarled, hands growing firm on your face, then yanked him towards his face. He pressed his forehead against yours and made sure you were looking at him.

“Who hurt you?” he asked again. His English wasn’t strong. He didn’t know how to ask why you thought that way or who told you that. So, he just repeated his words from before.

Mai’tuiudh say the frustration grow in your tired eyes. “Me! Mai’tuiudh. I hurt myself. I cut myself because it feels good! It dulls the ache in my chest. Makes me feel something besides all of this sorrow!” you screamed at him with hot, fresh down your face.

Then, it hit him. Wei mo’wei-te. Great sadness, his best translate he could come up with. This sorrow you feel is internal. Yautja have emotions, despite being able to hide them so well. They feel happy, angry, sadness. All of it. Maybe in less physical displays, but they still do. This sadness. He’s heard of it before, from Elders or Hunters who could no longer hunt.

To take a Hunter from the hunt was worse than thei-de. Like… like cutting the wings off of a bird. Leaves feeling this sadness that was hard to heal.

But it was possible. His brows drew together, determination filling his veins. His mate would not suffer this sadness alone.

“What you need?” Mai’tuiudh asked, ready to scour this plant or others to cure this sadness.

You couldn’t believe his words. Instead of turning away in disgust at how weak you’ve become, he stays like a sturdy statue at your side. For the first time, your sobs are from the sorrow that filled your hollow body. You launched yourself forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, face buried into his neck.

Mai’tuiudh understood what you needed.

Him.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Mai'tuiudh

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saintsenara · 10 months

Text

rare pair tag game

thanks for the tag, @said-snape-softly :)

i'm pretty sure everyone has done this by now, but if you'd like to, please consider this a blanket tag.

apart from all the tomarry and the odd dabble in remadora, i am a rare-pair enthusiast, so i am delighted to spread some propaganda here... the criterion i've used for a rare-pair is less than 2500 works on ao3.

pairs, little metas, fic recommendations, and some suggestions for authors to follow under the cut.

sirius black/severus snape

why i ship it:

this one can just about claim to be a rare-pair.

sirius and severus are narrative mirrors, whose complicated relationship to themselves and to each other is crucial for driving several of the most important arcs in the series.

in particular, sirius - constantly haunted by guilt and grief over his role in the death of the man he loved [you can decide if his love for james is platonic or not, but i definitely think the text thinks it isn't...], trapped in his childhood home, unable to have his real loyalties acknowledged before his death by the fact he's on the run - leads harry through his journey in hero-worshipping, then being disappointed in, then forgiving james. and then promptly dies.

this is one of harry's most significant areas of personal growth - it begins to chip away at his rather black-and-white morality, which is finally destroyed by his ability to confront the complexity of dumbledore in deathly hallows - but it is also key narratively: harry coming to understand james starts to hint to the reader that it is lily - otherwise absent from her son's conception of himself - who is the key to the mystery...

which brings us to severus - constantly haunted by guilt and grief over his role in the death of the woman he loved, trapped in his childhood home, unable to have his real loyalties acknowledged before his death by the fact he's a spy - who gives harry, and us, the final piece of the puzzle. and then promptly dies.

put them together, though? well, you get the delicious tension of two fundamentally broken people - who cannot comprehend the possibility of their own redemption - bound to each other. can they forgive each other and themselves? is it a disaster? the story can go either way.

and even in fluff there is so much potential for d r a m a between sirius' recklessness and severus' cunning, sirius' emotional control and severus' temper, the fact that sirius is canonically hot and severus is canonically not, how they react to harry and draco [i don't usually accept the fanon that severus is his godfather, except when it means snack can be fighting about it], and so on.

and i'm a sucker for two bitter old men getting a happy ending. sue me.

want to give it a read?

if you trust nothing else i say in my life [and why should you] you can trust this - second life by nwhiker and cassandra7 is one of the greatest pieces of writing i have ever seen, not only in this pairing but in this fandom full stop. it's a profound and solemn meditation on loving and grieving, choice and chance, and the great pain caused by the divide between the magical and the muggle worlds.

then, for gorgeous angst with a happy ending - two boys kissing by @writcraft and the merit in trying by brightened

albus dumbledore/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

the facetious answer is because they wouldn't be so obsessed with each other if there wasn't some sexual tension underneath it.

the facetious and nsfw answer is because it appeals to the part of me whose favourite book aged 11 was lolita

the serious answer is that they should be horrifying together: they're both liars; both incredibly self-righteous; both living behind masks which conceal their true emotions and motivations; dumbledore took one look at tom as an eleven-year-old, said "he reminds me of gellert", and then did nothing about it; tom thinks dumbledore's a hypocrite and is right, although not for the reasons he thinks; there is a colossal age gap; there is virtually no scenario in any timeline where they could be openly in a relationship unless one of them is concealing his identity; and - really, this seems quite minor in the grand scheme of things - they are constantly trying to destroy each other.

but.

intellectually, they are the only two characters in the series who could be the other's equal - i'm sure that violent arguments about the twelve uses of dragon's blood trigger the majority of their sexual encounters, and a man who's passionate about your research is hot.

if either of them ever fancy being honest - so, no - there is a shared cavernous [although, in tom's case, unacknowledged] grief in their lives which has shaped their not-as-divergent-as-the-text-thinks-they-are views on death, love, duty and so on. their active refusal to understand each other [i.e. dumbledore entirely misreading voldemort's motivations in the job interview scene] and commitment to constantly underestimating each other [i.e. voldemort bouncing around like an idiot in the chamber of secrets instead of using his brain and remembering what a phoenix is] could, in time, lead to something almost resembling acceptance. i mean, just imagine the hurt/comfort sex which happens when voldemort finds out about grindledore.

the way dumbledore describes the young riddle - "self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless" - is also an exact description of him. that each sees himself in the other canonically drives their hatred of each other, but it could also appeal to two very vain men in a much racier way. after all, who doesn't want to bang their narrative mirror?

and being an orphan probably doesn't seem so bad when you realise your boyfriend's family is aberforth.

want to give it a read?

i can't recommend concordance by @laeveteinn enough, particularly for one of the best-written dumbledores i've ever seen. i find dumbledore is often written either as far more whimsical than i'd like, or far more fiery and radical [when one of his most interesting personality traits in canon is his tendency towards inaction], but this dumbledore is the perfect balance of contradictions, while tom is his canonical feral self, longing to perceived, rather than the emotionless sociopath of so many other stories.

i also recommend as an entire ocean in a drop by eldritcher, which really leans into just how similar these two are underneath all the artifice.

albus dumbledore/severus snape

why i ship it:

well, we've had dumbledore with one lost boy, let's have him with another [i haven't been brave enough to venture into dumbledore/harry yet, but i'll take recommendations...]

as with riddledore, we have the potential for horror here: a vast power imbalance; enormous age gap; the fact dumbledore sends snape out to potentially die every time he goes off to voldemort; and - this is the crucial one - the fact that dumbledore's recognition of himself in snape is pure self-loathing ["you disgust me"] manifested in punishment [allowing snape to be humiliated in front of fudge, not stopping the presumed-to-be-real moody searching his office, making him give harry occlumency lessons, not letting him teach defence against the dark arts].

but then this stops, when snape does the tremendously brave thing of agreeing to kill dumbledore, and their dynamic equalises, as dumbledore recognises that snape is courageous, steadfast, and redeemed. i'm always struck in half-blood prince by the fact that dumbledore has it with harry's sniping about snape and straight-up tells him to shut up, as well as by the fact that he very nearly gives the game away and confesses why snape switched sides [the thing he promised not to do] when harry finds out it was snape who gave voldemort the prophecy.

and within this equalised dynamic - so this hot geriatric sex is happening in the afterlife, i guess - we have two men who are intellectual close-to-equals, who understand grief and guilt, whose aesthetic senses are charmingly mismatched, who are rarely honest but might be for each other, and who have lots of profound similarities which might lead somewhere...

want to give it a read?

cheerfully disregarding everything i've just said about how snumbledore could work, i highly recommend in infinite remorse of soul by @perverse-idyll, which is a chilling look at how dumbledore uses the power imbalance between the two to assuage his own guilt through snape's humiliation.

for something much more wholesome, i'm a big fan of byzantium by eldritcher

petunia dursley/severus snape

why i ship it:

because vernon is a dick.

i'm fond of petunia, who i think is one of the most interesting characters in the series because of how full of contradictions she is, and who i think is also a victim in fandom spaces of how the adult cast was aged up for the films [in canon, she's only in her early twenties when lily dies, and the implication is that vernon is a good deal older than her)] which makes her inadequacies, such as her inability to truly care for either child in the household, seem much more nuanced than they do if she's pictured as a middle-aged woman with considerable life experience.

like snape, she teeters on a knife edge between various chasms: she is a working-class girl from the midlands made good in middle-class surrey, he is a working-class half-blood boy who spends most of his life in pureblood circles; she ends up with her whole life wrapped up in a square little house when she's barely out of her teens, he ends up with his whole life wrapped up in spying at the same age; she hates the wizarding world and yet covets it, he hates the muggle world and yet cannot escape it; she loves lily and she hates her and she loathes her for dying, he... well, you know the rest.

want to give it a read?

i was first convinced by this pairing by the lovely regretfully yours by @maria-de-salinas, which takes both snape and petunia's awkwardness and bitterness and moulds it into something really tender.

i also highly recommend barking at the moon by rinsbane, the summary of which speaks for itself.

merope gaunt/tom riddle sr.

why i ship it:

our first canon pairing, and probably the most problematic of the canon relationships, since the series never acknowledges that tom sr. is a rape victim.

but i have found myself recently in my merope era and, in particular, in an attempt to give her more nuance than she gets in canon. as i've said to anyone who'll listen in the three broomsticks discord server, i loathe the implication in canon that merope dies because she just cba to live [since it directly justifies voldemort's belief that her death was shameful] and prefer to see her as someone who was desperate to escape a truly horrifying life [the fact she's going to be forced into an incestuous relationship with morfin is right there in canon...] and so did something she didn't have the capacity to understand the implications of [this is not a woman who's ever heard of consent] because she thought it would give her the first chance to be happy in her life, watched it all crash and burn around her, and would have very much liked to have lived to raise her son.

i doubt there was anything real or tender in her relationship with tom sr., of course, and his escape - while merely a brief stay of execution from his son's perspective - is tremendously brave. it's impossible to write tom/merope fluff [although i respect you if you're inclined to try] but fanfiction gives a space to explore the intricacies of their relationship which canon doesn't allow, and i'm obsessed.

want to give it a read?

i'm recommending myself here, and assuring you that you will enjoy: enchanter's nightshade, which explores how merope's attempts to keep her husband enslaved fail; the snow child, which treats the relationship as folk-horror; and the shack at the end of the lane, in which there is redemption, in the end.

the best exploration of tom sr. dealing with the fallout of the relationship is @phantomato's exquisite ganymede, which feels so truly embodied that you can't pull yourself away from the page.

bellatrix lestrange/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

our second canon pairing, i am obsessed with these two and the tragedy and - to some extent - tenderness bound up in their relationship [which can be proven to be there because noted softy @whinlatter loves them].

i've written before about my conviction - in contrast to a lot of bellatrix fans - that her relationship with rodolphus is utterly miserable, and that voldemort is the only man in her life who can understand her desire to make a life for herself which is not constrained by the gendered expectations of her social class.

obviously, lord voldemort is not a shining paragon of a boyfriend [and he is an awful choice as a baby daddy, bella, get it together], but i think the enormous power imbalance is perhaps slightly less enormous than is sometimes assumed - certainly, she tells him to his face in half-blood prince that he's wrong to trust snape [she's a clever woman], voldemort never physically punishes her for anything [rip to lucius malfoy, who seems to get picked for this in her stead], and voldemort tolerates a surprising amount of nonsense from her which shatters his mystique.

all of which is to say... the scream when she dies isn't just because he's losing the war.

want to give it a read?

tee hee, i'm recommending myself again, and encouraging you to take a look at: atramentum, bellamort's last afternoon together before voldemort goes to the potters; nor all that glisters gold, bellatrix's life - including her relationship with voldemort - through sirius' eyes; and death (eaters) in paradise, because murderous psychopaths deserve crack fics too.

draco malfoy/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

because the ship name is taco.

these two are a pairing which i enjoy with my tongue firmly in my cheek [and tom's tongue firmly in draco's], as i do with most other things in which draco is a main character [do i want to read drarry angst? no! do i want to chuckle? absolutely!], although this should not be taken as saying that many of taco's fabulous authors don't manage to make the pairing entirely plausible.

in fact, consensual taco [non-con is, of course, its own beast] often has some of the best characterisation of both tom [fretful, mercurial, stubborn, and nowhere near as charming as he thinks he is] and draco [prissy, a very good judge of character, someone who likes being taken care of, and much braver than he appears if he absolutely has to be] i've seen in the fandom, largely because - unlike other voldemort-centric ships [especially tomarry, but also voldemort + any of the adult death eaters] - there's no sense of inevitability there. these two aren't connected by a shared bit of soul, or a prophecy, or having gone to school together, or having been hooked in by voldemort in the first war when he was unassailable.

they have to choose each other. or, more accurately, draco has to choose tom, and tom has to get chosen.

and the results have me entertained.

want to give it a read?

then you will want to have a look at the travelling cabinet by @the-paper-monkey [and its sequel, bluebeard], truly the gold standard of taco content with an absolutely brilliant draco, whose sheer capacity to cling on and make himself an irremovable part of tom's life may just end up changing the course of history.

narcissa malfoy/severus snape

why i ship it:

because i am in deep with the conspiracy theory that it's canon. i am absolutely certain that narcissa is the person that voldemort is referring to at the end of deathly hallows - "he desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him". it seems highly unlikely to me that the canonical voldemort would give a shit about snape fancying any random pureblood [although the snapemort version is, naturally, hugely jealous], but snape having had some sort of liaison with narcissa, and the ability knowing this gives voldemort to humiliate snape, narcissa, the memory of lily, bellatrix, lucius, and draco is definitely information he would go out of his way to remember...

plus, how do you know where he lives, babe? v suspicious.

want to give it a read?

if you want some fluff, you will very much enjoy the incredibly sweet the reformed man by gingertart50, which features narcissa nursing snape back to health post-nagini and is a favourite re-read for me when i'm drunk and it's christmas.

if you want some very-much-not-fluff, other women and of purer blood by yours truly will scratch the itch...

minerva mcgonagall/severus snape

why i ship it:

because i'm an equal-opportunity age-gap fan, and there is far too little older woman/younger man in the fandom.

and look, i'll admit it, i'm a fan of the fanon that snape and mcgonagall are friends prior to dumbledore's death - i'm not sure it's canonically plausible, but this sign can't stop me because i can't read - and i like the idea of that blossoming into something more, especially in fics where snape survives the second war. after all, he is a man who definitely needs to be treated quite strictly [and i don't just mean in the staff room], there is a shared loneliness and grief to them both, they're intellectual equals despite the age gap, and bickering about quidditch is absolutely fine as a method of foreplay.

plus, you can't tell me dumbledore's portrait doesn't ship it.

want to give it a read?

for a fic which shows minerva at her acerbic - and yet still sensual - best, always but not necessarily forever by gingertart50 is an old, fluffy, and very funny, favourite.

for something much more bittersweet, that good night by kelly_chambliss has my heart.

severus snape/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

because voldemort is canonically down bad for it - there is no need to believe snape's ridiculous cover story for not attending his resurrection, to try and spare lily as a treat for his man, and to give him a nice, painful death which allows the narrative to move on and harry to defeat him if the dark lord isn't firmly in his simp era.

more seriously, they obviously have an enormous amount in common, particularly in terms of their backgrounds [harry draws a connection between all three of them, but actually the fact that harry is rich in the wizarding world, not a slytherin, and with a muggle mother, therefore giving him a pureblood name, means he can't relate to the post-childhood experience of both halves of snapemort].

as a result, i think snape is the death eater who comes the closest to understanding voldemort's motivations - above all, the fact that he's not seeking an oligarchy, which the malfoys etc. obviously believe - while voldemort is someone snape feels understands his intellectual interests and his creativity.

want to give it a read?

boy, are you in luck, because i myself have a snapemort wip - scylla and charybdis. it is not wholesome.

tom riddle/myrtle warren

why i ship it:

because it started as crack and now i love them.

in particular, i just have so much respect for being incredibly annoying as a method of seduction, and i think myrtle's commitment to just following tom around chattering at him - and, therefore, without her realising it, preventing him from committing all sorts of crimes - is iconic.

want to give it a read?

then my unhinged rom-com - bookbinding - shall provide.

tom riddle | voldemort/ginny weasley

why i ship it:

because i enjoy seeing my dear friends who ship hinny shake and cry.

but also because ginny and tom have an enormous number of similarities, right down to the fact that they both have yew wands [if you're sick of people saying harry has an oedipus complex, you'll be delighted to be confronted with the mountain of evidence ginny reminds him of the villain who keeps trying to kill him instead].

they are both very good liars, quick thinking, remarkably resistant to shame, possessed of nerves of steel, predisposed to violence, brown-eyed, so hot they have harry gagged, and the profound enemy of someone whose surname is smith.

despite what he claims, tom was absolutely not just sat politely in that diary gritting his teeth while ginny complained about having second hand robes and idiot brothers. as he says, he opted "to start feeding [her] a few of my secrets", and i think it's justifiable from canon that they were at the very least half-truths [for example, i would not be shocked to discover he tells her he's a half-blood orphan brought up against his will in the muggle world - there's no other reason, i think, for him to successfully make her tell him these things about harry without it], which means that ginny has lots of lovely emotional leverage over him.

plus, as with tomarry, you have the element of "this is kind of inevitable" in the relationship, and the mysteries of fate are always sexy.

want to give it a read?

this is a tommary/hinny/tominny triad, but it has had me in a chokehold since the first time i read it - shameful company by merrivale, which, truly iconically, manages to be epilogue compliant.

#asenora fic recs #rare pair tag game #starprince #snirius #snack hp #riddledore #snumbledore #petunia dursley x severus snape #merope gaunt x tom riddle sr #bellamort #tom riddle x draco malfoy #snarcissa #minerva mcgonagall x severus snape #snapemort #tom riddle x myrtle warren #tom riddle x ginny weasley #lots to read

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amplifyme · 11 months

Text

In celebration of the 25th anniversary of Fight the Future. A little post-movie feel-good fic. Thanks again to @lilydalexf for scouring her personal fanfic vault and presenting me with a copy of something I'd written 25 years ago that I'd thought was forever lost. You are a treasure, m'dear! 😘

Shift (aka The Lost Fanfic). Read on AO3. PG-13. UST. Slow burn.

"Let me see if I'm understanding you, Mulder." Scully silently offered to swap her container of shrimp fried rice for his Mongolian beef. "You're saying that our work on the X-Files should be considered the norm, as opposed to the typical white-collar worker with the house in the suburbs and the two point five kids?'

"And the Range Rover," Mulder added as they traded off. He took a bite of the rice and talked around it, his typical enthusiasm overriding any need for manners. "What I'm saying is that we're hardwired to seek out new experiences, blaze new trails. The human intellect demands new and different challenges, and if we ignore that basic need we run the risk of becoming complacent; the perfect target for any organization with enough power to literally take over our lives."

He set the container on the coffee table and tore open a packet of hot mustard with his teeth, liberally dousing an egg roll with the runny yellow substance before inhaling half of it in one bite. Scully watched with bemusement. A grazing Mulder was a sight to behold.

"So, if everyone was hunting down fat sucking vampires instead of sitting behind a desk or flipping burgers, the world would be a better place?" She waited as he furiously waved a hand in front of his open mouth and grabbed his beer, draining the last couple inches from the bottle. Pushing forty and he still hadn't figured out how much hot mustard was enough.

"That's kind of simplistic," he declared when he could talk again, "but yeah. Just think about it, Scully. What if the majority of the population could see just a fraction of the things we have? Think of how much more open-minded people would be to extreme possibilities. The idea of a race of aliens bent on colonizing the planet with not so benign intentions would be much more easily accepted."

Mulder held his hand out for the beef, giving her some time to consider what he'd said. Night had fallen and his living room was bathed in shadows. Light spilled from the kitchen doorway. Aside from the cool blue cast by the muted and ignored TV and the soft glow from the newly stocked fish tank, it was the only illumination in the apartment.

"But, Mulder, you're assuming that the majority of the world's population would even want to know the things we know. Contrary to what you might think, most people are perfectly happy living a life of order and routine. I dare say most of them would go out of their way to avoid the changes that kind of knowledge would inevitably bring."

"Ignorance is bliss?"

"That's kind of simplistic," she remarked, catching his faint smile as she echoed his earlier jab, "but yes. Most people just want to be left alone to live their lives as they see fit. Change isn't always a good thing, Mulder."

"But it's inevitable," he argued. "Chaos is the norm. I can't believe I'm the only one who realizes that." He chewed and swallowed another bite, staring off into space. And then he looked in her direction, aiming the full force of his gaze squarely at her. His eyes were suddenly darker and more soulful. More aware. In a split second his entire focus had changed, and now everything in him was intent on nothing but her. It was a look she'd seen in his hallway just a few weeks ago, and one not easily forgotten.

"What about you, Scully? Is ignorance bliss?"

It was a question fraught with many different meanings - and they both knew it. That he felt comfortable enough to ask anyway was a sign of how much things had changed. It wasn't just one event out of all the events of the last month: it was the sum total of them that had led to this new and still tentative honesty; the constant awareness that they were standing on the brink of something brand new and yet older than time.

It was an electrifying feeling that had her thoughts careening wildly. She was smart enough to realize that what was blossoming between them was a strange and beautiful thing, but it was also a double-edged sword, and she wasn't entirely certain she was emotionally prepared to deal with the risks it entailed.

She held his eye, determined not to flinch, and chose to answer the easier version of his question. "No, of course not. It would be foolish of me to try to pretend that none of these things have happened." She glanced away and then back at him. The fact that his attention had shifted to the food and off of her allowed her to elaborate more than she might've otherwise.

"I guess I'm uneasy with the inherent changes that certain kinds of knowledge bring. I've always been a creature of habit, Mulder. I like routine. I like knowing what to expect. And despite the rather bizarre lifestyle I seem to have established, I've been able to adapt fairly well. It's just that sometimes it gets a little overwhelming."

"There's nothing wrong with routine, Scully. You're taking me too literally." Apparently, her deflection had worked. At least for the time being. He went on in his slightly professorial monotone. "The daily grind is a natural outgrowth of living in a civilized society. All I'm saying is that it tends to make us lazy and stupid. And that leaves us vulnerable to anyone or anything who cares to take advantage of the situation."

Mulder scrubbed his newly cropped hair and slouched back against the couch, one hand unconsciously and contentedly rubbing his stomach. "I probably don't have to tell you this," he continued, "but I thrive on change. I like chaos. It keeps me sharp. The best thing about not knowing what might happen next is that you're prepared for anything."

She pushed away from the food and settled back next to him, their shoulders barely brushing. "But, Mulder, we all need some kind of stability, a constant we can depend on. Otherwise, we'd spend our lives wandering aimlessly from one experience to another, without any kind of cohesiveness. I hear what you're saying, but there's nothing that prevents us from living an ordered life except our own inability to make sense of the very chaos you seem to cherish."

He rewarded her with a low chuckle. "Is this a kinder, gentler way of telling me I'm crazy?"

She shot him a dismissive look. "No. I'm just baffled by your attitude. Don't you ever find yourself wishing for a simpler life; one where you knew what to expect from day to day?"

"You make it sound like I don't have that already."

She gaped at him and then recovered. "Okay, now you've completely lost me. You wanna explain to me how you can possibly describe your life as simple?"

"Well, using the criteria you've established, it is simple. I have the stability you spoke of. I have that constant."

She snorted softly. "And that would be… what? That your stability is the fact that you have none? That your only constant is change?"

He turned his head and pinned her with a look, his words echoing the gentle rebuke she saw in the mossy green of his eyes. "You haven't been paying attention, Scully."

Still sprawled on the couch, his face bland, the only clue to Mulder's anxiety was the almost imperceptible bouncing of one leg. "I realize that the aftermath might be a little foggy to you, but I find it hard to believe you don't remember what was said just outside that door." He tilted his head toward the front of his apartment. He made no attempt to elaborate. His words lay solid and heavy between them, offered up like a gift she couldn't refuse, even if she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to accept it just then.

She'd been anticipating this. She'd thought about it enough that she'd even come to think of it as The Moment of Truth because of its potential to shift a large portion of her life in an unknown direction. Formulating possible responses to Mulder's probable remarks about what had happened and what'd been said had been uppermost in her mind lately. When he’d jokingly accused her of daydreaming just the day before, she hadn't been able to argue the point. He'd been right: she'd been far too distracted the last few weeks. Maybe it was best just to get things out in the open - for her continued sanity, if nothing else.

But before she could say anything he beat her to it, apparently misconstruing her long silence as refusal to take his bait. "Well," he rasped, sitting up and pulling a hand down his face, "this is an awkward moment. Look, Scully, forget I said anything."

"No," she quickly assured him, laying her hand on his back. "No, it's okay. I was just… I'm just not sure what to say, Mulder."

He glanced back over his shoulder at her. "Well, I think I made my feelings pretty clear."

She certainly wouldn't argue with that. While she couldn't claim to remember much after she'd been stung in the hallway outside his apartment, the memory of Mulder's strangled words and the thrill of realization as he'd moved in to kiss her were etched into her brain. And now it was obvious that he was expecting her to come clean about her feelings. Yet another version of their well-established “I showed you mine, now you show me yours” game. Only this time it wasn't theories they were trading.

If Scully'd had a list, she could've checked off the symptoms of reticence she was experiencing, one by one. First came the dry mouth, followed closely by the leaden feeling in her stomach. Then the reeling in her head as she began to contemplate all she could say wrong despite her best efforts to put the correct spin on things. If discussing emotions were as simple as analyzing facts and figures, debating hypothetical situations, she'd be in the clear. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

She'd never been very big on flowery declarations; the words had always stuck in her throat every time she'd attempted it. She was a woman of action, and if forced to 'fess up, would much rather show than tell. And so that's what she did: sitting up and perching on the edge of the couch next to him, she gently turned his face toward hers and leaned in to kiss him. She was aware as her lips brushed his that he had gone completely still. She didn't linger, choosing instead to make it a chaste but tender kiss, pulling away after just a few seconds. Her hand stayed at his jaw a little longer though, as her fingers memorized the slight abrasiveness of his evening stubble. His eyes, when she raised hers to meet them, were both amused and a little shocked.

"There," she whispered. "I hate leaving things unfinished."

Mulder's eyebrows crept up and he gave an infinitesimal shake of his head. "That's it?" he asked. "You mean we're done?"

Now it was her turn to be taken aback. "What were you expecting?"

As his hands lifted to cup her cheeks he murmured, "C'mere and I'll show you."

Chaste was clearly not what Mulder had in mind. Not that she was complaining. She was too busy admiring the way his bottom lip was expertly nudging hers apart, opening her mouth to admit just the tip of his tongue. He briefly touched it to hers before sweeping it across her upper lip and withdrawing, pulling back just enough to be able to look her in the eye. Permission was asked and granted in the few moments it took her to curl a hand around the nape of his neck and bring his mouth back to hers.

Scully decided that his idea of what constituted finishing business was much more comprehensive than hers. She also decided that kissing him was something she really enjoyed doing and vaguely wondered what had taken them so long.

Good little investigator that he was, Mulder was busy making a thorough exploration of her mouth. It occurred to her, in some distant, foggy place in the back of her mind, that the shift she'd predicted was indeed inevitable. Funny thing was that the reality of it didn't scare her nearly as much as she'd thought it would. She allowed herself to completely relax into their kiss, with Mulder sensing her acquiescence and slowly easing her down onto the couch, his arms cradling her. They ended up with Scully lying against one of the throw pillows, his upper body draped across hers, their legs tangled.

It took her a few seconds to force her eyes open after Mulder finally broke for air. She found him looking down at her, his expression a wickedly potent mixture of affection and good old-fashioned lust. One corner of his mouth drew up just the tiniest bit.

"That was more what I had in mind," he informed her. And then he dipped his head and began to plant small, wet kisses down the line of her jaw. His hand slid up her back and gathered a fistful of hair, gently but determinedly drawing her head back and exposing the tender skin of her neck to his mouth. The soft cotton of his dress shirt rubbed against her stiffening nipples through the silk of her blouse and bra, setting off sparks of heat traveling swiftly through her body.

Hoo-boy.

It'd been a very long time since she'd felt the weight of a man's body on hers, the delicious friction it created. Forever since her hands had roamed over corded muscle and curve of spine. Too long since she'd felt the heat pooling deep within her and someone there to share it, add to it, eventually douse it. What made the cottony thickness of her arousal even more enjoyable was that it was the real thing this time - not some fantasy Mulder who came to her only in the relative safety of her dreams. And there was only a little part of her that wondered if perhaps they should slow down and think about this some more.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when Mulder muttered against her neck, "You're gonna have to tell me when to stop, Scully, 'cause if you leave it up to me, I won't."

God bless his considerate, gentlemanly little heart.

Damn it.

"Then maybe," she managed to utter even while threading her fingers through his hair and urging his mouth to points south, "we should stop and think about this."

Deft fingers began working the buttons on her blouse. "Okay. Just say the word and I'll stop."

Oh, she didn't want to do this. She didn't want to stop him. She had a sudden urge to strangle the life out of the sensible little voice in her head. If such a thing were possible, that is.

"Mulder."

"Hmm?"

"Stop."

He groaned in noisy protest but did as she asked. Resting his chin between her breasts, he peered up at her. Hair askew, eyes warm but a little wary, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever had the pleasure of lying beneath. He was content to wait quietly while she pronounced sentence on him, trusting her to do what was best for both of them. That particular trust was a heavy burden he'd placed on her long ago, and one she'd struggled to throw off more than once. But here and now, she was beginning to realize that it was also a precious gift. And it gave her far more power over him than she even dared contemplate.

"Is this what you had in mind in the hallway?" Her voice was intentionally rich with humor. It was important that he know she wasn't upset by his attempted seduction. Getting their wires crossed about this was the last thing they needed.

She watched as his eyes lost their wariness. The hint of a boyish grin crossed his face before disappearing behind his trademark deadpan expression. "Actually," he quipped, "I was kind of hoping to make it to second base." And with that, he deliberately began to refasten the buttons he'd managed to undo. His knuckles unintentionally brushed fire along her breasts.

"Don't give up, Slugger," she told him as he finished, her voice gone slow and husky. "You haven't struck out yet."

The look on his face was priceless. She couldn't help but grin at him. His answering smile was enough to light up the room. He sat up and pulled her along with him, waiting until she was settled before he twisted around and sat down on the coffee table across from her, his long legs caging hers. Mulder reached out and caught one of her hands in his. He took in a breath and let it out slowly. "The truth is, Scully, I accomplished everything I set out to do that night. The rest of it… just icing on the cake." There was a beat of silence. "Well, except for the bee sting. That kind of put a damper on things."

"Mulder…"

"No, let me finish. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I want you to know I meant every word I said."

"I know." She squeezed his hand and ducked her head, not wanting him to see the sudden tears that threatened to spill over.

"Do you? Because that's all that really matters to me. I don't ever want you to think that I don't value you, or that you're not the most important thing in my -"

She cut him off with her fingers pressed against his mouth. If he kept it up, she'd lose her struggle to hold off her tears. She didn't want to turn into a blubbering idiot, not now. Not when smiling had felt so good.

"I know," she repeated.

His eyes flicked over her face, reading it like a map only he could decipher. Long seconds passed before he nodded slowly, satisfied by what he'd seen.

"Good," he said. "That's good."

She took a few moments to study his familiar features, softened by emotions he rarely let show. She took in the relaxed line of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the hair that stood up in tiny spikes on the top of his head. And the seductive fullness of his mouth, still moist from their kisses. She could drown there, she realized, and not give two hoots about anything else. It was a dangerous and compelling prospect.

She reached up and smoothed her hand over his unruly hair. "I guess this begs the question of what we do now."

He looked aside for a minute and then back at her, shrugging. "We keep on keepin' on. We see where this thing takes us. We fight the good fight. We start scheduling regular make-out sessions."

"Just thought you'd sneak that last one in there, huh?"

"Nothing gets past you, Scully."

She was trying to focus on the issue at hand. He wasn't going to make it easy. She knew this Mulder well. And she could tell he wanted to play, revert to his habit of joking about the most serious of subjects. All the nervous energy he'd suppressed just minutes ago had broken free. Both legs had taken up a gentle bouncing, his hands moving like moths around a flame: glancing off her knees, her hands, her arms, before flying away, only to return again.

Sometimes it was a pain in the ass always being the grown-up.

She grabbed one of his hands and held it tightly in both of hers. He went still almost at once, his keen sense of her innate composure helping to ground him. She vaguely wondered what would become of him if something happened to her. She could picture him floating off into space like an errant helium balloon, with no one to pull him back. She was his safety line; a fragile string that was nonetheless durable enough to keep them both anchored to the ground - even if Mulder was always looking up into the sky, wondering what he might be missing.

"This is going to have an impact on everything," she told him as she caught his eye. "It's going to change everything."

He pursed his lips and jerked an eyebrow. "Maybe. But it's impossible that you'll ever be more important to me than you are right now, so that won't change."

"What if it does, Mulder?"

"That's not gonna happen." She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off, grasping her shoulders and gazing at her with single-minded intensity. "I won't let it. I'm one relentless sonofabitch, Scully. It's gonna take a nuclear explosion to pry me away from you now. And I won't risk the only thing that matters to me unless I'm absolutely certain it's the right thing. How could it, how could we, be anything short of incredible?"

Five years with Mulder had programmed her to automatically begin formulating an argument to counteract his latest bizarre theory, and this time was no different. While her brain shifted into overdrive, spitting out a dozen reasons why they couldn't afford to be so blasé about the whole situation, her heart was busy tugging her in a different direction. One that whispered to her that he might have a point. Not every decision had to be based in logic - she'd slowly begun to realize that. Sometimes you just had to go with your gut.

"And besides," Mulder suddenly blurted into the silence, "who else would put up with my sorry ass?"

Strange how the simplest phrase could be the deciding factor in such a life-altering decision. He wasn't being facetious, despite the joking tone of his voice. He honestly believed that she was the only one who'd ever understand him, who'd willingly accept him for all that he was. Who'd see that what he did made a difference. And though there were times when she'd wondered if someone more open to extreme possibilities might be better for him, she knew in her heart that no one could ever feel about him the way she did. And no one could ever challenge, respect, trust, and complete her the way Mulder did.

“You made me a whole person.”

Isn't that what it came down to in the end? Wasn't that all that really mattered? Suddenly, nothing was more important to her than that he know what was in her heart.

"I want you to know something," she told him. "And I want you to listen to me very carefully." Mulder gazed at her with cautious chameleon eyes. "I want you to know that no matter what happens now, one thing will never change. What you do makes a difference. I know it doesn't seem like it most of the time, but it does. You have to believe that. And I want you to know how proud I am to be a part of that. You're an honorable man, Mulder, and you lead an honorable life. And I want you to know I'd be proud to be a part of that, too. In whatever form it takes."

She watched his face carefully as she spoke, cataloguing every emotion that passed over it. There were many things to see there, as he nervously chewed his lip and took in her words. But what she was left with was a mixture of tenderness and pride that nearly made her dizzy.

Mulder opened his mouth a few times before he finally got anything to come out. "Can I…" His brow furrowed and he cleared his throat and tried again. "Can I just hold you, Scully? For a minute?"

She reached for him, and they both stood, knowing that the limited contact they'd have otherwise wouldn't satisfy either of them. She went easily into his embrace, her head tucked under his chin, her arms wrapped around his waist. He held her loosely for a moment before tightening his arms and drawing her even closer. They stood toe to toe, touching everywhere it was possible to touch, the contact sweet and heavy with the promise of things to come.

Mulder dipped his head until it rested against hers. His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath and then released it with a ragged sigh. "God, you feel so good. So good."

She tightened her arms around him, wanting nothing more than to be enveloped by him, held in his warm and welcoming embrace for as long as he'd let her. Judging by his remark, that could end up being a good long while.

And that was okay. It was better than okay.

"You know what, Scully?" he murmured against her hair.

"What’s that, Mulder?"

"Someday soon we're gonna have really phenomenal sex."

Maybe even sooner than he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#txf #msr #fanfic #fight the future #shift #mine

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ravens-words · 10 months

Text

Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you!

Such a wonderful idea, thanks for tagging me @bonheur-cafe @noxsoulmate, love you both 🤍

This is from the Tarlos Zombie AU, which is coming along slowly. I hope you like it!

There's a distant static wave of sound that pulls him back into consciousness. He's still not fully capable of controlling his limbs, or his eyes, so he stays still in hopes of figuring out what's happening. Seconds later, there a rough tap on his cheek, a loud voice calling his name. "-arlos?" His heart pounds in his ears, and he clumsily lifts his hands up to them, pressing tiggtly as if that will muffle the sounds. "Hey-" there's that sound again, a little familiar, and a little too loud. "- Carlos?!" There are hands on him, now. TK? No, he thinks immediately; the hands aren't rough, but they're not gentle, either. TK's hands are always gentle. TK. Five men. Guns. A knife in his gut. TK, screaming at them, screaming for him. TK being dragged away from Carlos' outstreched hands. He opens his eyes immediatel, and the first thing he sees when his vision clears is a clear blue sky, then- "There you go," Judd says, smiling broadly, "had me worried there for a second." TK. Carlos bolts upright, the man's name on his lips. He chokes on it though, as white hot, piercing pain steals his breath. He looks down, sees the white bandage Judd's pressing to his abdomen. "-easy. Easy, brother, you're hurt." Yeah, no shit. Judd snorts as he helps him lay back down, and Carlos realizes he said it out loud. Carlos looks up at the sky, tries to ignore the pain as Judd does as best as he can stitchig the stab wound in his side. He closes his eyes and TK's face, tight with pain and fear- brows furrowed, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream. He opens his eyes, stares at the sky. He keeps his eyes open, doesn't so much as blink this time. . Judd says he should rest. Carlos scoffs and struggles up to his feet. Judd's there, hands hovering at his side to support him if he needs it. "I'm going after him, Judd. With or without you." Judd stares at him. "You're hurt, man. Can barely stand on your own. How do you plan on gettin' him out of wherever they took him?" He shakes his head. "I'll figure it out. I just have to find him first." "Carlos-" "Judd, stop," he snaps. What if it was Grace? he wants to ask but bites his tongue to keep the words in. It's not- he shouldn't compare a ten year relationship to whatever he had with TK for- what? Two days? Maybe even less than that. He shouldn't. It doesn't to have feelings for someone he met less than two days ago. And yet- Carlos exhales, his chest heaves and he sways, dangerously close to collapsing. He would have fallen in a heap on the concrete if Judd didn't catch him, one hand at his elbow and the other on his waist, steadying him. And yet, he thinks, ever since he woke up, it's felt like a part of him is missing, like whoever has taken TK has taken a part of Carlos' heart with them. Judd stares at him, as if he's a puzzle he thinks he can solve and Carlos looks away, jaw clenched. "Okay," Judd says eventually, "let's go find your man." "He's not my-" he attempts to protest weakly, but Judd's not really listening anymore, collecting their supplies off the street and throwing them in the trunk. Judd helps him into the passanger seat, then moves around to the driver's seat. They share a look, full of understanding, and Carlos breathes out. "We're gonna find him." Carlos nods. . They're on the road for about half an hour when it occurs to him to ask Judd how he knows where to go. Judd's hands tighten around the steering wheel. It takes him a minute to answer. "Judd?" "We have a tracker on him." His heart sinks. "And on me. That's how you knew where to find me."

Tagging: @chaotictarlos @tkstrrand @alrightbuckaroo @lambourngb @honestlydarkprincess @sapphire11 @rangergurlgleek1211 @itshoneywhatever

#ejtaggames #tarlos fic #tarlos #ejwritestarlos #ejswip

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mimisempai · 1 year

Text

Absolute trust

Summary

After the summer vacations, it's nearly time for school to start again and Hob is preparing for it. Trimming his beard is part of it and unexpectedly, his lover will be of a precious help.

Notes

Shameless use of one of the most beautiful lines between Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom from CSI.

On AO3

Rating G - 771 words

Dream heard Hob sigh from the bedroom.

Looking worried, he walked to the bathroom and, leaning against the doorframe, watched Hob examine himself in the mirror and sigh again. Dream asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Hob shrugged, "It's the start of school tomorrow and I need to shave my beard. Or at least trim it. I took it easy during his vacation."

Dream felt a small hint of nostalgia. Of course he loved Hob no matter what he looked like, but in the last few weeks he had enjoyed seeing the look of their first meeting again. With his long hair and full beard.

He said gently, "Although I think it's a shame, I understand why you want to do it."

Hob chuckled, "I can't look like a lumberjack to teach my classes."

Dream came to stand behind his lover, wrapping his arms around Hob's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. They exchanged a fond look in the mirror as Hob leaned against Dream.

Dream's gaze fell on the shaving material Hob had prepared on the sink. He whispered in Hob's ear, "How about I do it?"

Hob turned his head toward him and asked, looking surprised, but also with a kind of longing, "You would do that for me?"

Dream gently kissed Hob's cheek near his lip and replied, "Of course I would. More than gladly, actually."

Hob turned in his arms and nodded, "All right."

Dream slid his arms along Hob's and grabbing his lover's hands, he guided him to sit on a stool that was near the bathtub.

He went back to the sink, soaked a towel with hot water and returned to Hob, then grabbing his chin, he dabbed Hob's lower face with the towel before placing it next to him. He returned with the shaving cream and applied it wherever Hob's beard needed to be shaved.

Then returning to put away the cream, he washed his hands and picked up the razor before positioning himself in front of Hob. Grabbing his chin with one hand, the razor in the other, he looked his lover in the eye and asked softly, "Do you trust me?"

Hob, not looking away, replied with a steady voice, "Intimately."

Dream smiled and pressed a light kiss to Hob's forehead before setting to work.

Hob watched him as he brought the blade against his skin and passed it with a careful gesture over the left side of his beard. After the second pass, Hob closed his eyes, trusting his lover completely.

There was no other sound than the scraping of the razor on the skin and sometimes the humming of Dream. After about ten minutes, the lord of dreams made a satisfied sound and Hob opened his eyes to see him return to the sink with the towel that he soaked again with hot water. He went back to Hob and delicately wiped the remains of shaving cream. Then grabbing Hob's chin, he motioned him back and forth to observe the result and with a slight smile on his lips, he said softly, "Perfect."

Never had Hob felt so well taken care of.

As usual when the feeling became overwhelming, he sought to deflect and murmured, "I don't deserve this much attention."

Dream put down the towel and grasping Hob's face between his hands, he said softly but firmly against his lips, "It's not about deserving anything. It's just me enjoying taking care of my beloved. You wouldn't want to deprive me of that, would you?"

Dream didn't let him answer and captured his lips in a tender, lingering kiss. Hob didn't think of denying anything when their tongues met and turned the kiss from tender to passionate. He surrendered to his lover's attention, tying his hands around his neck.

When they parted to catch their breaths, they both smiled and Dream couldn't resist running his fingers through the much shorter beard before running his thumb over the lips swollen by their kiss.

He said, a teasing smile on his lips, "There you go Professor Gadling, you're ready to go back to class."

Hob grabbed Dream's hand, kissed his palm and then without letting go of his hand, he headed for the bedroom. He turned his head to his lover and his teasing smile matching Dream's, he said playfully, "My classes don't start until tomorrow, so how about we take advantage of the time I have left!"

Judging by the laughter, sighs, and moans that echoed through the room for the next few hours, it was certain that Professor Gadling would make his return to school quite relaxed the next day.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Dreamling Masterlist here

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #dreamling fic #centennial husbands #centennial boyfriends #morpheus #morpheus x hob #hob x morpheus #dream x hob #hob x dream

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mlwritersguild · 11 months

Note

Chloé wakes up one morning and realizes she immediately needs to talk to the heroes of Paris. at least, that would be the decent thing to do, given there must be an akuma on the loose they are unaware of. she could even help them out with its powers, if she felt so inclined, as they obviously have something to do with brain-washing or psychological manipulation. after all, what other explanation could there be for the absurdly sudden and even more ridiculous feeling that she's in love with Luka Couffaine?

A Sour Pill, by AzuriteArtist

AO3 link; POV Chloe Bourgeois, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois-centric, Mentioned Luka Couffaine, Chloé Bourgeois/Luka Couffaine

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

Chloe grabbed Chat’s arm, pulling against it, trying not to let them leave the hotel's roof.

“No, you have to believe me!” Chloe demanded.

“Chloe, you have a crush. No one else is reporting anything. We’re not judging you. I know this must be—” Ladybug said, giving a sympathetic smile.

Chloe groaned. They weren’t listening to her! She wasn’t feeling like this when she went to bed. It was an akuma!

“So the akuma is just targeting me, then! It’s obviously Luka! He’s messing with my head via brainwashing akuma powers, trying to get me to believe things that I do NOT believe! It’s awful! Utterly awful!” Chloe exclaimed, stomping her foot down on the floor.

Chat smirked, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you tell us when it all started then? You said you woke up like this? Well, what were you doing yesterday?”

Chloe thought back.

She sighed. “I was attending Zoe’s birthday party. Her party’s decorations needed my skill and Jean-Marc’s ladder.”

Zoe’s party had been pretty good already, but Chloe hadn’t spent 14 years planning mock galas for nothing.

“And?” Ladybug questioned.

“Well, while I’m not one to be a wallflower, this was Zoe’s day, so I was on my phone by the juice bar. That was all that happened,” Chloe declared.

“Chloe,” Ladybug probed.

“Okay, fine. Luka walked up, and like, he’s always had such a weird style, but in the party lighting it honestly did work,” Chloe rambled.

She looked up to see Ladybug and Chat Noir grinning.

“Hey! I want to be a fashion designer. I can appreciate styles,” she insisted.

“Sorry, go on,” Chat said.

“Yeah, as I was saying. We were at the bar, and he just started talking at me. All about how ‘your grand organ sounds different’ and ‘it’s much less intimidating, more accommodating’. Honestly, what on earth was he going on about?” Chloe questioned.

“Luka’s just like that, he's very good at understanding people via music,” Ladybug chimed in.

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Despite my best judgement, we started chatting. He’s quite interesting, for someone who lives in the Seine. He’s got this black nail polish and eyeliner and it’s quite a cute look, in a punk sorta way—see! That’s exactly it! The akuma is messing with my thoughts!” Chloe pleaded.

Chloe scrunched her eyes. Why was this happening to her? She didn’t have a crush on him! He played guitar on a boat, and he wasn’t famous or rich enough for that to be hot yet! He was passive, he was quiet, and he wore clothes from second-hand stores and jeans that weren’t intentionally distressed!

Ladybug’s bug phone then interrupted, chiming out an alert.

“Looks like your theory might not hold water. Syren is back,” Ladybug said, holding up the news article for Chloe to see.

Chloe froze.

“But- that means that…” Chloe choked out.

Ladybug took a running leap off the rooftop, splashing down into the Seine.

“Yeah, listen Chloe. I’ve gotta jet—”

“Wait, do you need Queen Bee?!” Chloe whispered, stroking where the comb would be on her head. She desperately wanted a distraction, and hanging out under the water sounded perfect.

Chat thought for a second, before shaking his head. “Maybe just focus on calling your newfound crush,” he smirked, before leaping off the building too.

---

Chloe paced around her suite, phone in hand. She could do this, she was strong, she was brave, and she wasn’t afraid to do something as simple as calling someone.

She quickly pressed the call button before her brain could catch up, almost dropping the phone in response.

She stared in horror as the dialling tone played before it was picked up.

“Hello?” came Luka’s voice.

“Hey, it’s Chloe.”

#ml writers guild #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml writers guild requests #mlb #chloé bourgeois #chloé x luka #luka couffaine #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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bioticbooty · 6 months

Text

20 Fanfic Questions

Tagged by @swaps55. Thank you!

Tagging @cr-noble-writes, @theoriginalladya, @ad-astra13 and anyone else who feels so inclined!

How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

233,7802

This doesn't include WIP wordcounts which are so much higher

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mass Effect primarily. A little Dragon Age from time to time (mostly one shots). I have a Fable III WIP and Stargate Atlantis fic that's only on ffnet (and I refuse to go back to ffnet it's become a trash fire).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Crosshairs - Mass Effect 1 slow burn shenko. (This version will be abandoned as I've been doing The Great Rewrite because the characters and my Shepard have evolved over the years, but I like having the old version up for comparison.)

Lightning - Mass Effect 1 fshenko smut with a wild card Shepard who would blow up a small moon if she was asked to fix a microwave

No Strings Attached - Pre-Mass Effect 1 fsehnko fluff and smut, which started as smutty prompt (what if Kaidan and Shepard had a one night stand on shore leave before ME1) and turned into this Whole Big Thing

Brace for Impact - Mass Effect 3 AU where Olivia Shepard is not an Alliance Marine because Mindoir was never raided so she never lost her family. And yet, fshenko because love always finds a way.

Sine Qua Non - Mass Effect/Pacific Rim crossover with fshenko, Kaidan and Shepard have a service history and then end up on the same Jaegar class fighter in the drift together.

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

Yes! Sometimes it takes a while, but I always respond to everyone before I post a new chapter because I want everyone who took the time to write me something that I really appreciate their words!! I also do it because I miss the old days of fandom community where comments flew around left and right, and I want to encourage that in my own little corner as best I can.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Color the Sky - The Blitz, Shepard is on shore leave with her partner when the slavers attack. This is the story that cements the belief that she's better off alone because the people who get close to her die.

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

I don't think anyone is happier in a finished fic of mine than Alexis Shepard and Kaidan in No Strings Attached when the finally find each other again after having pined after the other for literal years.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only once, and it was transphobic garbage. "It's clunky and bad for reading to use these wierd fake pronouns introduced to make people feel better about themselves." I told them no one was holding a gun to their head forcing them to read the story and then locked the comment thread, because comment section battles with people who are already coming at it from a place of not actually wanting to understand is a waste of my time.

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

Sometimes, not that often anymore, and part of that is I can never just write smut without their being fluff and emotions and connection (see above: No Strings Attached turning into a 20k+ fic for a one night stand smut prompt). Part of this is because I am ace as fuck and the desire to have sex with people every second of the day because they're hot or whatever is just so utterly foreign to me. It has to feel right in the story. And if I'm gonna write just a smut story, you can bet there are thousands of words of background lore I wrote to make the smut happen on the page.

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

Very few. I think the only published one is the Mass Effect/Pacific Rim crossover. So by default, that one!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

None translated.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Once, with some friends over a decade ago (on ffnet). It was fun but also stressful, and I probably won't do it again. It really has to be the right people, and this group I did that project with was a good group and also very kind and generous in giving over the reigns to each other. But I've also grown more stubborn as I've gotten older. It can work, but unlikely I'll ever do it again.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Shepard and Kaidan, to the surprise of no one.

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

I would like to finish Never Surrender, my Stargate Atlantis WIP that is partially published. Part of that will involve migrating it over to AO3. I'm so enmeshed in Mass Effect and The Great Rewrite that I don't know that I have time for that WIP right now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and combat.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Bridging scenes together. I get way too in my head about it, especially when characters are just sitting in silence for a moment.

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

I would love to do this and maybe could do it in a rusty, limited capacity with French, but it has been ages since I've spoken it in any useful capacity.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek Voyager. I've long since lost this story, but it was writing a bisexual and (though I didn't have the words for it at the time) asexual Seven of Nine.

Listen, I don't wanna say I was prophetic but have you watched Picard? Case settled.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Choosing is hard!!!! Also I have so much unfinished, unpublished stuff that is my favorite but sticking to things that are published out there on AO3, it would be No Strings Attached. Shepard and Kaidan find unexpected happiness, then pine for a couple years because they were trying to pretend they weren't in love, and then the find each other again on the Normandy. They're nerdy dorks. They get to be the lighter versions of themselves and let go of expectations for a few days with each other and be a little reckless (and deeply, unapologetically romantic).

I also wrote that story in like 6 days while high off my ass on cold and flu medicine with a raging fever of like 102.

#meme games #mostly pointless text posts #these are super casual tags you don't have to do it if I tagged you #i really gotta migrate more of my stuff from ffnet to ao3

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naminethewriter · 5 months

Text

One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter Six: Complicated Families

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: Referenced Homophobia, Past Parental Death, References to the Foster System

~*~

“You sure you don’t want a glass?” Janus asked as he poured himself some wine. Virgil sat next to him on the couch and shook his head.

“No, thanks. Alcohol isn’t my thing in general. I’ll stick to water.”

“Suit yourself.” Janus leaned back and took a sip, taking a moment to enjoy it. Virgil shifted, a bit uncomfortable with the silence.

“My dad,” Janus began after he took a deep breath, “came to this town in his early twenties. He brought nothing but a single suitcase, his papers, and some money. He found work in an auto repair shop and quickly became a hot topic of the locals. He was kind, hard working and handsome, allegedly. The perfect bachelor. At least, according to what my mom’s told me. My grandma was always a lot more skeptical about him, but she rarely trusted outsiders.

“My mom had also turned twenty around that time. She was working as a waitress in a local diner. It wasn’t really that she needed the money but that she didn’t know what to do after school. She liked the idea of college but didn’t know what to major in and such. My grandparents hadn’t been much for travel, so my mom hadn’t seen much of the world, and she was curious. So, of course my dad as an outsider appealed to her.”

Virgil listened intently to Janus’ story while fiddling with the edge of a blanket.

“They got to talking a lot when my dad came into the diner for meals. She asked him about where he’s been and he’d in turn ask her about the local places and legends. It naturally progressed with them starting to date and eventually getting married.” Janus paused, taking another sip of his wine.

“But that’s not all?” Virgil prompted quietly.

“Well, a lot of the rest is speculation, both of my mother’s and my own. Dad didn’t like talking about what exactly happened before he moved here or his family. But a fact is that he wasn’t heterosexual. Actually, very early on into him dating my mom he broke out into tears and told her that he never thought that he could fall in love with a woman.”

Suddenly, Virgil had a bad feeling about where this story was going.

“Mom never minded it, of course. She knew dad loved her with all his heart. But it made her question his reasons for coming here all the more. Dad never outright said it, but mom’s pretty sure he came from a rather wealthy, old-fashioned, and conservative family that kicked him out when they found out about his sexuality. He probably had a boyfriend he left behind. Or maybe they broke up, we don’t know. Mom wrote down what little information he told her and connected the pieces from there.”

After Janus finished his story, they were both quiet for a while. For a second time that evening, Virgil didn’t know how to respond.

“That really sucks,” he finally said. It startled a laugh out of Janus at least.

“Yeah. He probably would have told us at some point if the accident hadn’t happened. I do know his hometown and his former last name, so I could look some things up if I wanted to, but… so far I haven’t dared.”

“I can understand that. It’s the same with me in a way.”

Janus looked at him and cocked his head. A silent offer to continue or change the topic, either way, he wasn’t going to push, and Virgil was grateful for it.

“You’re right, I wasn’t always a werewolf. I—” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m an orphan, actually. I don’t know what happened to my parents, if they died or if they didn’t want me or what. Never had the courage to ask or look it up. I’ve been in the foster system for as long as I can remember. I developed an anxiety disorder very early on and that made my chances at adoption slim.”

Janus put away his glass and offered his hands to Virgil in silent support. He hesitated for a moment but took them and squeezed them gently.

“I switched between foster families every few years until I was twelve. Then I was taken in by a lesbian couple that more or less specialized in older children with neurodivergences. They didn’t do adoptions, but they were very supportive of me and the others they took in. I stayed with them until I aged out and they helped me find an apartment that I could afford. If it hadn’t been for them, I probably wouldn't have finished school. I didn’t want to go to college, so I got two shitty paying jobs and just did the best to keep myself afloat. I wasn’t really living as much as surviving.

“Then one day I was on my way home from work. It was dark and cold and I just wanted to go back as quickly as possible, so I took a few shortcuts. I didn’t live in the most secure neighborhood, so I carried a pocketknife with me, just in case. I was passing through an alley when I suddenly heard some growling. I just thought it was a dog or something and continued but then a wolf rounded the corner and barreled into me. I panicked. Managed to get my knife out and just stabbed. I hit it in the shoulder, and it wasn’t happy about it. Bit me in retaliation and I passed out.”

Janus held his hands a bit tighter, and Virgil remembered to breathe. The memory alone could still make him panic a little.

“When I woke up, I was in an apartment I didn’t know. A woman was watching over me and started fussing as soon as I moved. It took me a bit to understand what was happening, but she explained that she was the wolf that attacked me and that she hadn’t meant to. Apparently, there was a territorial dispute, and she was on the run from another pack. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and her instincts kinda took over, especially when I stabbed her. She turned me without meaning to.”

“So, that was how you became a wolf?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. She introduced herself as Mary Lee. She was a college student and also still a relatively new werewolf. Then she introduced me to the rest of her pack, also all students. Her boyfriend Lee was the leader of the pack and a born wolf, as well as the one who had turned Mary Lee. They were all super apologetic towards me and reassured me that they would do their best to take care of me and help me learn about my new self.” He smiled at the fond memory.

“They kept their word, and the next few years were the happiest I had so far. It felt like I finally had a family. It wasn’t perfect of course but I didn’t mind. But the thing about college is that eventually, you graduate. And that means change.

“Lee and Mary Lee had plans and places to be. New York City to be exact. The other members of the pack also went off to pursue whatever they wanted. I didn’t really have anything like that. Lee and Mary Lee offered me to come along, they both saw me as their little brother at that point. And I really considered it. I loved living with them, but I also felt like I would be intruding. Not that I wanted to tell them that, but Mary Lee knew me and got me to talk eventually.

“She again told me that I wouldn’t, that they both would love for me to be there but that she doubted that I truly wanted to come along. ‘You’re just not built for the city life and that’s okay,’ she said. And it’s true, I hate cities. Even where we lived was almost too much for me. So she told me to go and find my own path and if it ever got too hard, she and Lee would welcome me with open arms.”

“They sound like amazing people.”

“They are,” Virgil smiled sadly. “And I really miss them, but we’re keeping in touch. They promised they’d come visit me as soon as they had the time, and I was truly settled in.”

“Thank you for telling me, Virgil,” Janus said earnestly and again squeezed his hands.

“It felt good to talk about it actually,” Virgil laughed. “I was kind of avoiding thinking about how much I miss them.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

They looked at each other, both mourning the loss of their families but happy to find solace in each other.

“Hey, Virgil?” Janus asked quietly after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

It felt like they were both still teens and not in their late twenties, but Virgil didn’t mind.

“Please.”

Their lips connected softly, and he thought, maybe he really could find a new home here.

Janus certainly made him feel like he belonged.

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agentplutonium · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday

I haven't done one of these in forever, and once again haven't been tagged. Either way you guys get the littlest update on what I am working on so that I am held responsible for what I do. ANYWAY

(if ya'll wanna do something too you should tag me! I love seeing people's works :D)

This week I wanna show y'all two snippets, one from my OC work and one from a fandom I rarely talk about on here. I'll start with the fanfic stuff first (all is gonna be under the cut because I think it looks cooler that way)

So, here I present a part of my Cher & Sherlock character study. These guys are from NeXus (created by the one and only @mr-laveau which can be found on their youtube channel). This mostly is just me seeing how my Characterizations of these two listener characters play out with one another. That and I have been itching to write something NeXus related since the second video on the channel. Anyway:

The clock ticked on the wall. There was the occasional shout from outside the apartment. Cher sat at the table, shoulders rigid, fingers tapping the wood beneath them impatiently. The wood was smooth under their arm, the back of the chair digging into their shoulder blades. They wanted to keep moving. They wanted out of here. They wanted to keep everyone safe. Cher was dropped off at Alonzo’s and his partner’s place to be babysat, despite what Uriah told them. He said it was for their safety but they felt Uriah didn’t trust them, or that he thought they couldn’t take care of themselves. It was humiliating. Not to mention this was probably putting the lovers out of their way just to be there with them. They did not want to do that to them. They were not worth the amount of effort the two vampires were putting into them. Suddenly, a mug was placed before them, snapping out of their thoughts. Owl, what Cher has taken to calling Alonzo’s partner, took the seat across from them, a matching mug in their hands. They were silent, not looking at Cher. Their presence wasn’t… unwanted, but Cher still felt on edge. Their fingers stopped tapping. They couldn’t help but analyze the situation, Owl’s body language, the way they kept their eyes on the mug in their hands, the mug that was left suspended between the two of them. But Owl just fucking sat there. The silence lasted for a few more moments. “It’s just hot chocolate, I’m not trying to kill you,” Owl said, those eyes finally glancing at them. “Thought you might like something to do than just sitting here.”

(You will probably be able to find this fic soon on my AO3 :D)

And now my favourite part of this: the part where I get to show off my OCS. If you haven't seen anything before these two are my god characters. They are the sole reason why in my world anything exists. They are literally my heart and soul you guys i don't know if you understand. ANYWAY, snippet of the creation of the Strix:

Terra had been messing around with different designs for a bit, shaping and reshaping the clay in her hands in an almost bored manner. None of the designs were sticking out to her, and weren’t exactly how she was picturing things. Normally, this wasn’t such a problem. She was usually able to perfectly recreate what she was thinking. However, each time she did just that she found that the design was impractical, or didn’t look the way she imagined it would. In all honesty it was starting to irk her quite a bit.

She was about to give up on the design, but tried one more time. This one was also imperfect, but… Terra thought it had potential. It was a small, winged creature that Terra was going for, but there were a few things that she fixed or added. One of them was a short, curved, needle sharp beak. The other was sharper talons as well. After messing with the colours for a bit, making them a clash of green’s and blue’s, Terra brought the prototype to life. It slowly became mobile, turning it’s head from side to side, watching Terra curiously. Terra held out a finger to it, and it readily hopped over onto it, turning back to Terra and giving a small chirp.

Terra grinned, mouth stretching wide as she watched her creation. “Well, hello, little one,” Terra said gently. “You’re not as big as some of your cousins, but I think you look absolutely adorable.”

The creature chirped in response.

Terra only smiled wider, nose scrunching in the process. “Well then, what shall we name you and your siblings? Hm? Any ideas?”

The creature didn’t respond, only tilting it’s head in the other direction. Terra pursed her lips as she thought.

“What about… finches? No, that’s a bit to human sounding. We need something different.” Terra hummed, reaching up to gently stroke her fingers over the creature’s feathers. She had gotten an idea, and her eyes lit up. “Oh, what about Strix? That’s a fun sounding name. What do you think?” The creature chirped again, and Terra smiled. “I’m so glad. We’ll have to tell Caelus next time we see him, I did promise I’d keep him-”

“Tell me what?” Caelus asked, beside her all of a sudden. He settled next to her on the ground, eyes immediately falling to the Strix. “Never mind. I figured it out.”

Terra gave a sheepish smile, holding out the Strix. “Don’t you think he’s cute, though?”

Caelus didn’t seem like he did. He was never very good at hiding his feelings, especially not from her. “He’s… something,” Caelus said.

Terra swatted at his arm playfully. “Be nice at least. He’s technically yours too.”

Caelus looked spooked by the prospect, however he didn’t have time to comment on it before the Strix was hopping onto his knee. Caelus held as still as possible, eyes not leaving the thing.

“Aw! He likes you!” Terra gushed.

“And, uh… what is he, exactly?” Caelus asked.

“I call them Strix,” Terra said matter-of-factly, but she was already getting distracted.

Caelus stayed like that, staring down this creature. If he was honest, he actually didn’t mind this one all that much. It was a bit of an eyesore, but he was a bit smaller than the others. It was roughly the size of half his forearm in height. A manageable size. The creature chirped at him, and Caelus couldn’t help but give a small smile, reaching forward to cautiously stroke the feathers on the creature’s head. It looked like a freaky bird, he commented to himself.

Terra’s words caught up to him then, and he snapped his gaze to her. “I’m sorry, them? What do you mean them?”

“There’s more than one,” Terra said, like it was obvious, “I just haven’t had the time to make them. But-” She trailed off, taping the ground in front of her, at the feet of a few dozen more. They came to life in a blink, all staring at their companion and at Caelus. It was only a second more before Caelus was swarmed in a flurry of feathers and wings. Terra gasped, watching as the creatures settled and Caelus was covered with the birds.

Caelus did not look happy. Terra tried to keep her giggling subdued.

“Get them off,” Caelus said through his teeth.

“I don’t know, I think this look suits you,” Terra snickered.

“Terra-”

“Okay okay,” Terra said, though her amusement was still evident. She rose to her knees, hands reaching for the creatures, fanning them away or moving them herself. “Come on guys, you heard him. Shoo. Go.”

Caelus was relieved when they were all gone, but he was still grumpy. Terra giggled again.

“Oh come on, It wasn’t that bad! Stop being so grumpy. I saw you smiling at the first one, I know you secretly like them,” Terra teased.

“I do not,” Caelus denied.

“Uh-huh, okay, whatever you say big guy.”

Terra’s amusement was cut short when one of the Strix flew over and pecked at her neck.

“Ow!” She cried out, hand flying to the spot. She frowned at the creature who fluttered in front of her, looking up with that curious gaze of theirs. She pulled her hand away, only for it to come back smeared with blood. Her frown deepened even more.

“Are you okay?” Caelus asked, concern in his tone, half reaching toward her out of habit.

“Yeah,” Terra said, more mystified than in pain. “They shouldn’t… they probably don’t know better. They were just created after all.”

Caelus still seemed wary, but Terra didn’t allow for the conversation to continue. Instead, she started herding the birds up to place in a temporary home until she felt like they could join the rest of the world. It was going to be a while before they were accustomed to their new world, and Terra also had to train them on a few things to keep them safe.

This will be fine, Terra could feel it in her very core.

If you wanna read more, I also have this story about Terra and her realization that Vampires exist.

that is all I have, but but I love talking about my things and am open to any questions, and like I said i'd love to see y'alls work too!!

#plutonium_WIPW #plutonium_fanfiction #plutonium_rambles #Plutonium_Files #guys i need to talk about my things in order to get it written #it is a curse that I bear #ocs #original character #nexus #nexus fanfiction #that's right im starting that tag

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itsohh · 1 month

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Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020

“All I ask is that you give it a go-”

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior.

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you.

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table.

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry.

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you.

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you.

Sam Fisher.

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up.

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear.

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food.

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table.

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?”

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face.

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took.

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious.

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless.

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.”

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only.

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed.

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top.

“What's this?” You asked.

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table.

“Uniform.”

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow.

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar.

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died.

“This here is your pager.”

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.”

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.”

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second.

“Better get moving then.”

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.”

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already.

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you.

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.”

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?”

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh.

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.”

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale.

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room.

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg.

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.”

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound.

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed.

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.”

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside.

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted.

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice.

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.”

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr.

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again.

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway.

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched.

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off.

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.”

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.”

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door.

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.”

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him.

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit.

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled.

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.”

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room.

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed.

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused.

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair.

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…”

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.”

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you.

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment.

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.”

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake.

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table.

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep.

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on.

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms.

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver.

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall.

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand.

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly.

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr.

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.”

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger.

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground.

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw.

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke.

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.”

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up.

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?”

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips.

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.”

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken.

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier.

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were.

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head.

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed?

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch.

“It's bruised but you can handle that.”

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything.

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.”

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?”

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.”

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed.

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.”

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed.

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed.

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face.

“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that.

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.”

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.”

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope.

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover.

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused.

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked.

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck.

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name.

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it.

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together.

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you.

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him.

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement.

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.”

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.”

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more.

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance.

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.”

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone.

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape.

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him.

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up.

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you.

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips.

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face.

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch.

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.”

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease.

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside.

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall.

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest.

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears.

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him.

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings.

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table.

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it.

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks.

They weren't.

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?”

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form.

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised.

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people.

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.”

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet.

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes.

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back.

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence.

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed.

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #deimos x reader #gerald morris

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claudiajcregg · 24 days

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by both @mihrsuri and @unseenacademic 💜💜💜 Thank you so much! I actually wrote up most of the answers the day I was tagged, and then forgot to post them. For over 10 days, probably. Me bad.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 23! (One of them is a 'collection' of short ficlets, and has 6 chapters. So 28 stories in 23 works so far. Probably about to be more stories in still 23 works.)

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 156,597 words. For now.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Just TWW. Who knows in the future!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

They have about 35% of my total kudos, but the first two are ~21% alone. (The first one is the only fic that has over 100 kudos. Then again, any of them getting above 30 is a miracle.)

maybe everything's just turning out how it should be (Big Block of Cheese 2008; CJ & Josh. Posted Feb 2021) [121]

say it's here where our pieces fall in place (Vignettes, 1998-2008. Posted Jan 2022.) [66]

just your smile lit a sixty-watt bulb in my house that was darkened for days (Thanksgiving 2006. Posted Dec 2022.) [55]

nobody knows how to get back home (Missing scene from ITSOTG. Posted April 2023) (wait what. top 4?!) [50]

we could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it (B4A Campaign Fic, spring 1998. Posted May 2021) [47]

5. Do you respond to comments?

YES. I don't take them for granted, and I like interacting with my readers. Sharing is nerve-wracking and makes me feel so exposed, so any comment makes it worth it. I like to thank peeps for their time! As of late, it's taking me weeks to get back to comments for Brain/spoons reasons (and because I try to do so in order, though not always). I sometimes feel bad I have fallen behind on leaving my own comments, so replying to what I get makes me feel bad. I love getting the rare, long, thoughtful comments, because I love seeing what people pick up on (had to restrain myself from commenting on everything), so if that one's up next… It'll delay everything. I have a harder time letting go of those.

I know replying or not is a hot topic, and I fall on the side of 'whatever the author does is fine' (I see them as being voluntary gifts to the author, kinda, but I understand why some authors can't or won't reply! Especially those who get dozens.). It does feel weird(ly demoralizing) when you see that yours is one of a couple of comments they haven't replied to, though. (Selfishly, as someone who tries to write medium-long comments, lack of anything can sting. It's irrational, it's not what I'm after, but it'd be nice to know whether that hour plus of my time was worth it. It's not transactional and I hate that c4c idea or whatever. Just. weird feelings.)

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

As we've established in previous similar memes (lol, I think I've answered these questions before), my fics don't really have angsty endings! For the most part. I think I said don't want you to go but I'll be okay then, and I can still buy that/definitely popped into my brain. I think some of my late S7 fics have an ominous feel to them, with some references/buildup to the angsty parts of IM, but I wouldn't call them angsty endings.

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

Um. The opposite is true! still you never took your hand from mine was my first thought, but I feel like oh, and I will be with you to feel the California sun is pretty darn happy. I could have picked almost any of them and I could make a case for them!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I luckily do not. I have gotten a couple of comments that have messed with my brain, and made me second-guess things, but they were not hate.

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

Yes, but not regularly and not that well. It's usually short, mild scenes at most, but I did challenge myself to write a more explicit one last summer, especially after I got those 'one bed' tropes in the Wheel but didn't go there in the 500-word limit. Streets say it's hot. IDK. I also wrote a smutty continuation to the exchange fic. Best if we forget parts of that one happened. I also started writing one that would be in my S5 pregnancy universe but 🤐

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

I don't. But this question confirms to me I have answered this before because I know I've joked about how TV has already done that for me, lmao. See: Bones/Sleepy Hollow.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? (I had to track down this question because it wasn't anywhere.) I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! I'm having déjà vu here. I know I have answered this before: I could do it myself! But I have a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as one might think, but I'd be honored.

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

I don't think so…? If I have, it was years ago, in my forum/LJ days. I've been trying to make it happen for a while now, but who knows if it'll ever happen. WE HAVE IDEAS. We want to make it happen. (Wink wink, nudge nudge. You know who.)

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Spaceships are so cool. Atlantis was the first space shuttle I saw in person (and also the one I've seen the most) and it and its exhibit are awesome. I'm only missing Discovery out of the four space shuttles, because I didn't go to the second National Air and Space Museum location in Virginia back in 2015. And once the new exhibit center is completed, I'd love to see Endeavour again.

(In all seriousness, I don't have one. Booth and Brennan will forever and always hold a special place in my heart, but I love CJ and Danny so much, writing for them, their journey. Pls don't make me pick.)

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

I am a big 'never say never' person, because I end up picking stuff up (and maybe rewriting it to fit my current style/ability) if I remember an idea… But I'm guessing many of them won't get finished. Probably some of those that are deep in my notes app or on the drive.

16. What are your writing strengths? I (try to) dig into the emotion of a scene as best as I can.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else? I know it sounds like an excuse (at least to my ears), but writing in your second language is hard. I know my writing sounds limited because of it – my descriptions will never be as evocative as I wish they were, my dialogue won't be there. I am not the most imaginative person, either.

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

If it makes sense, and won't take the reader out of the story, go for it! (A few words, or a line or two, might work if there's appropriate context.)

But also, as a non-native speaker, I'll always recommend using pals who might be fluent in that language and checking with them! I know that, throughout my many years in fandom, I've read quick things in Spanish within English fics that weren't entirely correct in the context they were being used (i.e. character's fluency, smaller details), and they took me out for a second. (I know, I know – pot, meet kettle. If anyone has read an unedited story of mine, they've found me making up English phrases.)

19. First fandom you wrote for? Bones. In Spanish. (I also think I wrote some ficlets in English that are probably hidden in some random LJ comm I created for my writing. They're probably 14-15 years old.)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I honestly cannot pick! And maybe it's yet to come. But basically, if I've gone through the embarrassment of having someone edit/beta a fic and catch all the avoidable mistakes, it's because it genuinely has something I like about it and that I think others will like, too. (Perceived quality aside.)

Off the top of my head, and out of the posted fics (obvious recency bias, sorry). I have a story for all 23… Also, let's consider I've mostly not read them since they were posted so I might be off. (Would love to hear what everyone's favorite is, if you've read any and are reading this!) Obviously, that top 5 by kudos has great ones. There's a reason

don't want you to go but I'll be okay: I just remember finishing it and knowing it was something special. Felt like many things coming together. I wanted to write angstier, a break from the endgame of the IM AU I've yet to post, and I think it works. I had had that quote as inspo for a while, and I think the trip to Berlin put it back on my mind. (The first haunted by the notion draft is from around this time, too!)

your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep: the structure is likely a tad repetitive, maybe (but also, the point of 3+1s, sort of?) but I love writing in that s7 period, and there should be more fic with the press corps. I think the stuff I wrote while editing (which included an overhaul of the +1) is even better than what was there.

oh, and I will be with you to feel the California sun: recency bias, yes. I love a good early Cali story, and even if this was nowhere the story I sat down to write originally, I love how it turned out. It's silly but fun, and so sunny.

still you never took your hand from mine: I will always have all the soft spots for my memoir stories, even if two of them have yet to be posted. This one doubled its size a year and a half after “finishing” it because I realized what it was missing. It's sappy, probably unrealistic re: the publishing industry, but damn it if it's not one of those that have made me cry while editing them.

we could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it: I had to include an oldie but goodie from my first year, and this one is so special to me. (Along with BBC 2008, which I also absolutely adore. That was the fic I always wanted to post. Hilarious it was third. But it's also my most popular fic by a huge margin.) Seeing it recommended on Tumblr? God. I love campaign stories and all their potential. I love that I took a random line from some unposted story and it evolved into this fic.

nobody knows how to get back home: I almost added the most recent one because of how fun it was to write (or, as I mentioned above, Big Block of Cheese) but I like how bittersweet this missing scene one is. I find CJ's internal struggle so interesting to explore, and this is one of her most vulnerable moments. I also wanted to see a hug so badly.

#20 questions for fic writers #ask games #god this is so late #hopefully I make up for it with my rambling #tagging whoever wants to do it - everyone I know was tagged in one of the rounds with me #in between writing most of this and posting it I hit 900 kudos woo

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goddess-of-all-creation · 1 month

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Chapter 3: Room for connection

(Chapter list / Read on ao3)

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He really hadn’t been hungry until she insisted on having a proper meal. Only when the first bite of exquisitely cooked lamb touched his lips, he realized it had been a day since he had eaten anything. And years since he had eaten actual good food like this. Not having to pay for it was also a plus.

There was something interesting, and he took a mental note of this: Kay had no trouble passively controlling an entire staff of cooks and a waiter to stay a little past their shift just for them. Either that or her mutation worked as a command. He’d have to ask later.

“It’s a really long story. So, I’m pretty hated back home. For a reason, I did make some mistakes. But I was a part of a group, we were like family, I had something good going on. They weren’t exactly like me, but they took me in and made me feel like home. And after all that stuff happened, everyone just turned their backs on me. No matter that I had essentially helped them save the world. The only friend I thought I had… he never stopped resenting me. And I did try, I tried so hard to be better. But everyone wanted my head. So, I found a way to escape that universe. And that’s how I ended up here.” Kay brought some food to her mouth and then thought about it for a second before speaking with her mouth full. “Huh, I guess that wasn’t that long of a story.”

“I understand.” He said, and how did he understand. Maybe not the whole changing universe thing, which did intrigue him. But he could easily believe that the world had turned against her and not forgiven her mistakes. Without asking what those mistakes had been, he believed she tried to make it better. He would’ve liked for someone to believed he tried too.

“So you’re not freaked out by me being from another universe? Another universe around forty years in the future?”

Erik put down his fork and knife and looked in her eyes. Her warm chocolate eyes almost seemed too innocent. Yet he recognized the lines on her face and the tired look that she had in her. They were the same he had after all. “I have faced evil before. I have encountered people with all sorts of gifts, all of them powerful and all of them defeated one way or another. I will always stand by one of ours.” He had a feeling that being completely earnest with her would be the best approach, and he hoped to be right. “So no, I’m not “freaked out”. I’m amazed.” She flushed, and her not-so-innocent eyes smiled at him before her lips did.

The walk to the hotel had been comfortably silent until they arrived there. Erik had wanted to ask a thousand questions, but he’d never dare ruin the brief moment of peace they had. Both of them deserved it. Before they reached the building, she was the one to speak first.

“I don’t think my country exists here.”

“I’m sorry”

“Eh, it’s fine. It was a horrible place. Torn apart by war and authoritarian regimes, and the ones who wanted to make it better were looked at as criminals. I guess it’s better gone. Maybe that’d save a lot of people some pain.” They kept walking and all Erik could come up with was sorry again. He knew war a little bit too well to not understand why she’d say that. “Anyways, I don’t really have a place to go so I guess I’ll just be a tourist. I’ve always wanted to travel. Well, travel and enjoy it.” They laughed, and that was the last thing said that night other than ‘good night' when they naturally gravitated to getting their own room.

Not even a long hot shower had managed to calm him down. He stirred in bed for what felt like hours. There was so much he wanted to do now that now that had the freedom to. He didn’t know where to start. And there was also the girl… Images of her kept flooding his thoughts as he tried to sleep. The idea of other universes had absolutely never crossed his mind. Weather that was true or not was irrelevant, it was palpable that she was something extraordinary either way. After an entire life of being around deceptive people Erik had a talent for figuring people out.

But if there was another universe… how different was it to the one he knew? And there was also her power. How amazing had that been to see, to feel. Not only her mutation, but the actual raw power that she displayed while using it. What was the full extent of it? What else was it useful for? He wondered… but he shouldn’t, he should be focusing on different matters. Hours passed before he finally fell asleep, tangled in the sheets, thinking about her.

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The Hotel Bristol was a nice semi-luxurious place, comfortable and nicely decorated. A nice change to the gloomy atmosphere of the city. But it was just a building. And there was only so much relaxing he could do. His hands had started to tremble with the feel of every metallic object around him. But he abstained from making a spectacle not wanting to attract any attention to himself. Just in case.

The first day he had only met Kay for lunch. By then he had woken up, exercised, gone for a walk around the city and started reading a book. She had slept until their afternoon; Erik was jealous. “I think I’m gonna take it easy tonight. Go shopping, check out the night life…”

“I don’t think you’re going to find much night life here, but I hope you enjoy it”

“Don’t you wanna come?”

It’s not like Erik had plans that he was running late for. But he still thought taking that many hours shopping for clothes was a little excessive. Kay had asked his opinion on many outfits, which he was happy to give, but she had left the store with several bags of clothes-clothes that were very similar to the ones she already had. Only a tad bit more fitting and time period appropriate.

“Why did you pay for it? I could’ve used my tricks you know…” She was trying her best to carry all the bags but two of them were slipping away from her full hands. He took them, brushing against her hand in the process and sending a small electric sensation through his arm she didn’t seem to aware of.

“I know you could, you’ve been not-paying since yesterday. It was only fair I did it this time. It’s what a gentleman would do” Feeling just a little vainglorious, he flashed a smug smile at her. Shelooked away as the color rose to her cheeks. He knew he had to make her blush again, and all the time if possible.

“Hey look, a museum!” She practically dragged him inside. He couldn’t bring himself to love it, if he was being honest. Admiring the artists skill, still didn’t bring him much amusement, going from room to room just looking at things was at least a light excercise. Kay, instead, seemed to be impressed by every single piece. “Oh. My. God. Look at that landscape!” She said in semi whisper. She’d point and comment on the little details at every turn, and occasionally her face would adorably light up with joy at a specific piece she liked a lot.

That night they decided to share some wine after dinner. Her room had a slightly nicer view of the city than his, and they sat together at the little loveseat near the window.

“You had a family too, right?” The question was thrown on him like a bucket of ice cold water. He could taste in his mouth the rage he had been pretending was not there. She didn’t know, she was just curious. It still didn’t hurt any less.

“I did.” He had to look away as he wondered if he was going to tell her the whole story. The lights outside were dim, and the city was really not much to look at. Could he tell her? Erik shifted in his seat when it hit him: he might not see her again after that night. “We were divided. We were hunted down because we chose to fight for our right to live. Some were killed, some suffered worse than that. And I wasn’t…” His voice cracked and he took a second to continue. “I couldn’t save them.” He quickly took another sip. This wasn’t his usual scotch that he could gulp down and get lost in the bitterness, but it would have to do.

“I’m sorry.” Kay grabbed his hand. And it was only then he realized his wrist was uncovered. She looked down and saw the numbers tattooed on him. He had been wishing for decades that it could stop hurting. He thought she’d drop his hand, but she squeezed it instead forcing him to look at her. Her tan skin was gleaming and her lips were full, maroon tinted from the wine. He didn’t want her pity; he didn’t even want the comfort of having her around. It started making him feel safe, and he knew that was a mistake. He had that before and look how it turned out. But he couldn’t help himself from being honest. Blame the wine, or the inebriating aura she gave off, but he had to tell her why he was really there.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I wouldn’t want you to come with me where I’m going.” Only then he looked into her eyes. “But I don’t want to leave you alone either.”

“Look,” Now it was her turn to shift in her seat. Her hand left his, taking away her body heat and leaving him cold. “I will be fine alone. I always am. I’m not afraid of anything this world has to throw at me. It may sound naïve, but I can guarantee you I’m speaking from experience. I will be okay without you.” His heart sank and he was prepared to leave in that second. “But I don’t want to be. I’ve been liking this, and if you want me to tag along, I’m up for it. You’re cool, and it’s not like I have much else going on.”

He slept like shit that night. Knowing what followed, he was still on the fence about taking her with him. But she had accepted, even after the warning.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

The next morning found him on her room doorstep again, hesitant to knock. Just when he thought he was too much of a coward to confront her and too proud to take her with him, the door opened by itself, leaving a trail of purple smoke.

“Come in.” Kay came out of the bathroom in jeans and an undershirt, and Erik felt like he had stepped into an intimate moment. Her hair was wet and she was trying her best to shake off the water with a towel. “Ah, screw it” she said, and with another puff of purple, water droplets flowed up in the air out of her hair and into the floor and walls. She put on a shirt on without acknowledging his presence, and then turned to face him as she grabbed a bag and her jacket. “So, where to?” The dark circles around her eyes, and her deeper-than-usual voice gave away how tired she was, even when her tone was energetic and almost cheerful. Maybe too cheerful for the place they were going.

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