#that strap on his chest is fighting for its fucking LIFE

[ooeygooeyghoul]

I just be putting him in outfits.

[ba9go]

tough cookie (with a gooey center)

childhood bestfriend!bakugou katsuki x reader

junior high to u.a.!bkg, bkg has a soft spot for reader, fluff (sfw)

part 1/3 of the cookie craving collection (completed)

more cookies for you? part 2 🍪 part 3

bakugou has always been tough.

your first meeting with him in junior high floored you, literally.

you were running late to your next lesson, darting through the school hallways with your books and notes hugged against your chest. you turn the corner into your classroom, and BAM!

you ran into the wall, headfirst. the sheer, brunt impact of the bump had you falling onto the floor with an “oof!”. your notes fell to the ground in a flurry of pages, and you winced as one of your books fell right on its corner, gosh, that dent is gonna be there forever—

“watch where you’re goin’, idiot!”

you looked up from where you sat on the ground, only to see bakugou standing in front of you, arms crossed. even as a kid, bakugou had quite the scowl.

“you watch where you’re going!” you retorted, crossing your arms right back at him. “you’re so big, blocking the doorway like that!”

“hah? the fuck are ya tryna say?”

“that you’re really strong, moron!” you started picking up your notes, frowning at how crumpled they were. “i thought i hit a damn wall…” you muttered quietly under your breath. if bakugou heard you, he didn’t respond.

as you move to stand up, you lose your balance a little, and you trip forwards slightly. bakugou quickly catches you with a hand on your shoulder. the gesture catches you off-guard.

“you’re clumsy as shit,” bakugou grunts, steadying you with his hand. he continues holding your shoulder, even after you’ve regained your footing.

“well, sorry ‘bout that,” you grumbled. bakugou raises an eyebrow at you. “thanks,” you say begrudgingly.

bakugou only grunts in response, his hand dropping from your shoulder, before he walks past you and into the hallway. you walk into class and made your way to your seat, ignoring the stares of curious classmates.

after class, you were surprised to see bakugou standing outside the classroom, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets — if you googled “high school delinquent”, bakugou would probably be up there in the search results.

his eyes were narrowed, watching your classmates angrily as they made their way out of the classroom. then, his eyes met yours, and his scowl only deepened. you met his piercing gaze challengingly. you didn’t know what bakugou wanted from you, and you were 1000% sure that he could absolutely obliterate you — with his fists or with his quirk, you just prayed he wouldn’t use both on you.

but mama didn’t raise no pussy. there was no way you were going down without a fight; you were going to face bakugou head-on.

instead of challenging you to a brawl, bakugou tugs the strap of your backpack, hard. the action has you so surprised, and you let out an unintelligent squawk of indignation as your backpack slips from your shoulder (damn your bad habit of always carrying your backpack on one shoulder instead of two). your life flashes before your eyes, and you think bakugou is about to clock you in the head with your backpack, or worse, beat you up, and stuff you inside it—

bakugou slips your backpack onto one of his shoulders, turns around and walks away without a word, leaving you gawking.

“your legs broken?” bakugou says loudly, still walking off with your backpack. you chase after him, hitting his shoulder and demanding him to give you your damn backpack.

that day, bakugou walks you home, carrying your backpack the whole way.

you had wondered if maybe, just maybe, bakugou had felt the slightest twinge of guilt for knocking you over in the doorway (though to be honest, you did most of the knocking over yourself, since you were the one who ran into him). maybe the sight of you on the floor was so pathetic, that he felt the need to make things up to you??

bakugou dumps your backpack at your feet once you reach your doorstep. you blink, and he’s already walking off, presumably in the direction of his own home.

“damn you, bakugou,” you grumbled, bending down to grab your backpack. “thanks, asshole!”

you continue standing by your doorstep, watching bakugou intently, as if staring at his back would somehow answer all the questions swimming in your mind. you only enter your house after he finally disappears from your sight.

ever since then, bakugou started appearing outside your classroom after school, and he’d do the exact same thing — steal your backpack, and ignore your attempts to steal it back from him on the way back to your home. you didn’t quite understand why, and neither did your classmates, if their bewildered stares and hushed whispers in the hallways were anything to go by.

after a week of bakugou walking you home, you had gotten used to his… distinct personality. you weren’t surprised to see bakugou waiting for you after school anymore; you started looking for him through the class window, smiling when you saw him storming down the hallway, his usual annoyed expression on his face, and stopping outside your classroom.

then, instead of calling him a “pesky thief” when he took your bag from you, you started purposefully taking out a few books from your bag on days where you felt your bag was heavier (you were certain bakugou would have absolutely no problem carrying your bag, no matter the weight, but still).

you’d grown to like having bakugou around. you liked bakugou, and his brooding demeanour, his typically foul mood, his snarky insults, but most of all, his soft spot for you.

one day, on your way back home together, you found yourself getting lost in your own thoughts.

“ya lose your tongue or somethin’?” bakugou nudges you in the side gently with an elbow, and you snap out of your thoughts. “you’re quiet today.”

you smile. bakugou was so observant.

“the hell are you smilin’ at, idiot?” bakugou looks at you like you’ve grown two heads when you start to giggle uncontrollably. “the fuck? you good?” the genuine concern laced in his voice makes you laugh even harder.

“i’m good, i’m good!” you pause in your steps, and bakugou stops next to you too, looking at you expectantly.

you turn to him, beaming. “you’re my best friend, katsuki!”

bakugou’s— no, katsuki’s eyes widen as he takes in your words. back then, you didn’t realise the true weight of your words. katsuki’s been called many things — a smartass, bully, asshole. was someone like him even capable of being considered a friend? much less a best friend? katsuki doesn’t think so.

but looking down at you beaming up at him, katsuki starts to hope.

katsuki rolls his eyes at you and grabs your wrist, pulling you along as he grumbles about how you’re so damn weird and so annoyin’ sometimes.

you don’t miss the light flush that spreads from the tips of his ears to his neck, or how the hand around your wrist is slightly damp with sweat.

when you reach your doorstep, katsuki (instead of throwing down your backpack) gently slips the strap off his shoulder and onto yours. you feel a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair slightly.

you look up, but katsuki’s looking pointedly to the side, lips tugged in a faint scowl, and you decide to let him off the hook; you won’t tease him, not when he’s being this openly affectionate towards you…

just kidding!

“awww,” you coo, wrapping your arms around katsuki’s neck to pull him down into a loose hug. “don’t worry, i love you too, katsuki!”

“haaah??? shut the hell—”

“look at you! you’re blushing, how cute!”

“i’ll fucking kill you, you piece of—”

after graduating junior high, you and katsuki remained inseparable, joined at the hip. he went to u.a., and you’d be lying if you said that that wasn’t why you applied to u.a.’s support course.

“katsuki, i got accepted!!” you jump into katsuki, who catches you in his arms easily.

“‘course ya did,” katsuki squeezes his arms around you, and you giggle. “told ya we’d go together, didn’t i?”

you wrap yourself around katsuki like a koala to a tree. katsuki holds you safely in his arms.

“can i be your sidekick, number one hero? pleaaaaase?” you ask sweetly, but you already know his answer.

katsuki smiles happily at you.

“you’re my number one sidekick, sweets.”

katsuki was tough, but he was soft, just for you <3

BONUS:

“hey, uh, bakubro,” kirishima asks nervously. “what’s up with you and that girl from the support course?”

“yeah, yeah!” kaminari chimes in. grinning from cheek to cheek, he whisper-shouts, “she’s cute! is she single? cuz i’m totally down to ming— WOAHHHWOAHWOAH!”

katsuki doesn’t let him finish, shutting him up with a crackling palm to his face. kaminari jumps backwards with a yelp. kirishima winces as katsuki storms down to hallway, back to his dorm room.

katsuki sighs as he kicks his door open, he’s so tired of their damn bullshit—

“hey, ‘suki!” you chirp happily. you’re sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with one of katsuki’s gauntlets between your legs. “how was gym?” you ask without looking at him. you’re focused right now, thoroughly but carefully rubbing a bar of polishing wax into the gauntlet. katsuki notices how the other gauntlet resting next to your leg is glistening, scuffs and scratches gone.

“‘suki?” you look up when you realise katsuki’s still standing there in the doorway, wordlessly.

katsuki stares at you blankly.

“be my girlfriend.”

the things i would do for a chewy cookie rn oh my dayssssss (it’s 1.55am) (my throat is getting worse)

taglist (thank you for your support!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07

[blitzyn]

a different method final pt

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

request: drop by to ask will there ever be a chance for part 3 with teacher zhongli? i dont know man. him and reader are so cute together. maybe i am crazy??? wanna see reader actually tries his best and gets his reward-

part one | part two

a/n -> oh my god i need francis mosses and wriothesley to fuck me right this INSTANT

wc -> 4k

cw -> praise, anal fingering, anal sex, mating press, desk sex, semi-public sex, teacher zhongli, student reader, not beta read

You were nervous. Jitters ran along the length of your spine and pooled in your chest, leaving a deep cavity that filled with anxiety. Why were you so anxious in the first place? It’s just a test. You’ve taken plenty of them during the course of your life.

You tried to play it cool, masking your face with a facade of nonchalance, hoping no one could see how clammy your hands were getting or your heartbeat, or the sweat rolling down—oh god was someone looking at you? Could they see through you? What if they could read your mind? Did they know that you were secretly trying to get your teacher to fuck you again?

You forced to stop yourself from physically deflating in relief when they looked away. Seemed like they were just looking around the room in an attempt to search for a hint or an answer to the question they were on. Right. The test. You’d finished it not too long ago, and now you were in the overthinking stage, wondering if you could’ve worded something better or if a different answer was right, but you forced yourself to calm the fuck down. You studied for this (surprisingly) and you were sure that at least half of your answers were correct. Hopefully.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard your teacher speak, notifying the class that there was five minutes left, and you could see a few write faster as they tried to finish on time. Those five minutes felt like an eternity, watching the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock above the door leisurely make its way to four, then three, then two, one… thirty seconds, and…

Finally!

You took your time packing up, watching your classmates rush out of the door, eager to leave the boring room. It wasn’t until the last person made their way out did you walk up to your teacher’s desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“May I help you?” He questioned, offering you a brief glance as he reached over to grab the pile of test papers. It was frustrating how he could just ignore your past… ordeals like they were nothing, but you were determined to claim your keep.

“Can you, uh, grade my paper? Now, I mean,” you requested, trying to fight off your growing eagerness, but it seemed that it didn’t matter when he quirked an eyebrow. He gave you an unconvinced look, leaning back on his chair to properly look at you, searching your eyes for something. “Please,” you hastily added, hoping it’d be enough to convince him.

“Why not wait until next week?” He seemed to have found what he was looking for as he relaxed his expression, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is there something urgent?”

“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure how to explain without sound too eager, but you were almost ninety percent sure he knew why you wanted him to grade it now. “I wanna see how I did. ‘Cause… I studied this time. So…”

An intrigued glint shone in his golden eyes, and his head bobbed in a slow, understanding nod. He returned to the stack and scanned through the list of names until he found yours, pulling out the answer sheet to look over. It was silent for a while, save for the occasional scratch of his pen and the obnoxious tick-tock of the clock. You crossed your arms across your chest and examined the room absentmindedly, finding it too weird to watch him grade in this silence.

“You’ve done well,” he suddenly spoke, the richness of his voice gently guiding you out of your thoughts. “Congratulations.”

You saw that he rotated the paper to you, letting you look at the numbers that adorned the white page. 47/50, it read, marking this your highest grade yet.

“That’s good,” you hummed, risking a glance up at him, only to find him already watching you expectantly.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He questioned, and you could’ve sworn that he had the faintest of smirks. It was gone as quick as you saw it, but you were sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You paused, feeling the uncomfortable weight of embarrassment creeping in your mind, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue. What were you so nervous about? You did good and everyone knew he didn’t go back on his word.

“You said you’d reward me if I did good,” you reminded, leaning forward a touch too eagerly.

“Did I?” He replied, his expression unchanging even when it was clear what you wanted. “The reward was the knowledge and understanding of this unit. Are you not satisfied?”

Fuck.

“Oh. Uh,” you were mortified—how could you not be? Technically, he didn’t specify what the prize would be. You just assumed it’d include him fucking you like the last two times. You stared at him, pursing your lips, not really bothering to hide the obvious displeasure in your face. “If I say no, will I get something else?”

The corners of his lips raised in a smug smile as he intertwined his fingers together, resting them atop the smooth wood of his desk. You noticed the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes and groaned softly. He was just messing with you.

“I suppose so,” he said, beckoning you closer to him with a refined hand. He flattened it along the curve of your hip, gently guiding you to the edge of his desk as he stood up to press himself against you. “You’ve done well today. You must’ve been very determined to get what you wanted, hm?”

You nodded slightly, almost shyly, shuddering at the feeling of his hand sliding down your pelvis to palm at your crotch. He was (not so) surprised to have felt you already hardening under his touch, but he didn’t comment on it, instead giving your cock an experimental squeeze. Your knees nearly buckled, grateful to have the desk supporting your weight as he stroked and explored your body.

“You’re more sensitive than the previous times we’ve done this,” he noted, leaning back to slot his thigh between your own and tilt your bashful head up. His grip was firm, unrelenting, raising goosebumps along your arms at his—frankly strange—strength. You hardly paid it any heed, of course. It just added to his appeal. “Have you been anticipating this moment since then?”

He refused to let you look away, tightening his grip on your chin to make you meet his golden eyes. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before steeling your nerves. He said you could have this, so you were going take it.

“Yeah,” you replied, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand needily. You bit your lip at the jolt of electricity that traveled up your spine, sending your senses into overdrive. You could smell his cologne—it was rich and smooth, subtle and fitting for a man like him. He was all you could feel, hear, and see as his hand made its way to the front of your pants, deftly undoing the button to tug them down.

“My, I can’t imagine how pent up you must be to be this aroused already,” he teased, his cheeks raised in a minuscule smirk. He swiftly pulled his gloves off and ran his hands ran over the curve of your thighs this time, sliding along the underside to lift you onto the desk. You tensed when the cold surface met your heated skin, but it was soon forgotten when you watched him slide your boxers off, breath hitching as he wrapped his hand around your cock.

He pressed his thumb onto the sensitive head, giving it a quick rub before lifting it, noticing the thin string of precum connecting his finger to you. He tightened his hold again to start jerking you off, listening intently to the slick noises and your breathy moans. He could feel his own dick beginning to harden, straining against the fabric of his slacks, but he ignored it for the sake of pleasuring you.

His touch was addicting. Hypnotizing. Entrancing. Anything and everything under the sun because you couldn’t get enough of how damn good he was. He knew just how tight to squeeze, the right pace, what made you shudder and squirm. The build-up was slow and delicious, clouding over your mind until your thoughts were hardly coherent enough to speak out.

“Damn—you’re… you’re good,” you shakily panted, eyes darting between his warm, strong hand and his own irises. Your cock throbbed, twitching at the sound of his low, amused chuckle. You clutched at the edge of the desk hard enough to make your hands shake, thighs flexing as you writhed. Though, you were careful enough not to accidentally kick him.

“I’m flattered you think so,” he responded, moving himself so that his hip pressed one of your thighs wider. He felt you hook your leg around his waist and tighten when he moved his hand away to prod his fingertips against your lips, wordlessly demanding entry. Eagerly, you complied, opening your mouth to let him press onto your tongue and gather your saliva.

You hummed at the feeling before closing your lips around them, gently sucking on them as you gauged his reaction. You couldn’t catch his overall expression shifting, but you did see his eyebrow raise the slightest bit and feel his cock throb against your ass. He let out a breath when he felt the suction alongside your tongue swirling around his skin, coating his fingers in your saliva. He pushed them further down, resulting in a soft gag from you. He held them there for a moment longer before pulling away, watching you break the thin trail that connected you to him with a swift swipe of your tongue over your slick lower lip.

Without missing a beat, he reached down, and you were fully expecting to feel him prod at your hole, but his hand targeted the handle of one of his drawers. You huffed impatiently and rolled your eyes when he pulled out a bottle of lube, listening to the sound of the cap being flipped open.

“Was the whole finger thing really necessary?” You grumbled, gasping slightly when he tugged your hips forward just enough so your ass hung off of the edge. You gave him a weak glare when he poured some of it on your asshole directly, tensing and shuddering at the sudden temperature drop.

“No,” he replied smoothly, easing his fingers into you. “But surely you didn’t expect to be the only one enjoying himself?” He questioned rhetorically, pumping them in and out slow enough so that the wet squelching was the only thing you could hear. “I also had no intention of using my saliva this time.”

“Could’ve started by now,” you said under your breath, mildly bitter that he had you gagging on his fingers just ‘cause he felt like it.

“Have patience,” he murmured, jabbing his slender fingers into your prostate in response to your vulgar words. He jerked you off with his free hand, paying close attention to each of your reactions, down to the minuscule twitch. “I know you can do that. If you can pass a simple test, how much more is waiting to you?”

You remained silent, swallowing the impending retort. You huffed through your nose, watching his hands expertly working your body better than you’d ever have. Your hips jerked and your cock pulsed rhythmically whenever he curled his slender fingers into that one spot that had you seeing stars. It was hard to keep quiet, and you were sure he was making this as difficult as he possibly could for you.

The heat in your belly intensified with every second—with every jab to your sensitive prostate and stroke along your painfully hard dick. Your labored breaths came out in quick pants, hitching when he teased the leaking tip. You were fully expecting him to take his time, to feel the gradual buildup, so when he suddenly speeds up, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

He gave you a sharp look, reminding you that you couldn’t afford to be loud despite not letting up. You swiftly clamped a hand over your mouth, weakly glaring at him for the sudden onslaught of stimulation, but you could hardly keep up the attitude for long. You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed, nostrils flaring at the effort as your hips jerked every so often.

“F–Fuck, sir,” you panted, your eyebrows furrowing when you looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m gonna… m’gonna cum.”

“Go ahead,” Zhongli murmured, watching you intently. And, like his rich, smooth voice was a trigger, you did. You bit down on your lip so hard you nearly punctured it, unable to completely muffle your moans as the sounds slipped past your hand. He didn’t scold you for it, instead deciding to continue to move his hands, milking out as much cum out of your cock as he could before you started to whine at the budding overstimulation.

He let you take a moment to gather yourself, shifting to grab a tissue and wipe his fingers clean. He turned back to look at you when you sighed, leaning back to place most of your weight on your palms.

“Do you need a break?” He questioned, placing his hands back on your bare thighs. He was in no rush despite having his painfully hard dick straining against his pants, and you were internally impressed with his self control.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, hooking your knee around his waist to tug him closer, but he hardly budged. “Fuck me. Now. I’ll be fine,” you urged. It seemed that demands were your strong suit this time around.

“Learning to have patience will benefit you greatly,” he said, and you watched the way he took a deep breath in a manner you knew meant that he was about to go on a long tangent of life lessons or something along the line. You gave him a pleading look, to which he acknowledged with yet another subtle, smug smirk. Good lord, when he wasn’t in a serious setting or teaching, he could be a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively.

“Stop doing that,” you huffed, but you could hardly maintain that (already weak) sense of annoyance when he moved to undo his pants, eyes quickly and instinctively making their way towards his cock. You could see the tip of it beading with precum and the way it flushed an angry red.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow what you’re trying to imply,” he responded, all of his amusement fizzling away to make room for the faux ignorance. He reached over to grab the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his palm and rub it along his dick, creating quiet squelching sounds that, now that you thought about it, made you cringe.

“So you just casually have lube laying around?” You questioned, looking back up at him curiously like you weren’t about to have sex. You had a strange relationship, honestly.

“I got it recently. Based on your reaction towards our last session together, it was easy to assume that you’d make a genuine effort,” he said, wiping most of the lube off his hand with a tissue before hefting your thighs up his broad shoulders. “You’re quite predictable.”

You didn’t bother to refute this time, wincing slightly at the tension to your lower back. “Ow—careful,” you hissed, shifting to get comfortable when you paused suddenly, feeling the head of his cock press against your asshole.

“You’ll be fine,” he gently assured, resting his free hand beside your head. “Bear with it.”

He pushed forward—gently this time, unlike the way he so roughly shoved himself inside you like the first time. You tensed regardless, mildly uncomfortable with the burn that came with his entry.

“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing a hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, coaxing your relaxation forth. He sank in slowly, breathing in deeply as he fought the urge to shove himself in one go. It felt better this way, he realized, taking his time instead of rushing it out of the sake of irritation. “You’re doing well. Just breathe.”

You nodded sheepishly, resting your head back against his desk. Your chest fell and rose rhythmically, making yourself relax to make things easier for both you and him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip and grunted when he finally buried himself all the way inside you, listening to him grunt in satisfaction.

“Fuck… is it me, or did you literally get bigger?” Your voice was strained, breathy and shaky. Your legs tightened slightly around his shoulders, staring at him needily.

“No, nothing about me has changed,” he chuckled softly, finding your state humorous. “But you have. You’ve improved your character within this room and proved that you’re more than capable of passing my class. You’ve made me proud, [L.Name].”

“Oh. Haha. Really?” You laughed awkwardly, turning your head to the side bashfully. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the praise, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness that you were hardly able to hide. “I guess I am doing better, huh?”

He nodded in response, his golden eyes softening. “I will begin now.”

You gasped, instinctively looking down to watch him pull out a bit and softly push back inside. You shuddered at the drag of his cock against your prostate, biting your lip once again to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat.

He moved rhythmically, his gaze locked on your blissful expression. His cock throbbed as he slid in and out, again and again, targeting your prostate with pinpoint precision. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, grunting softly, your soft moans mixing in with the wet, gentle slaps that filled the room.

“Shit—don’t say stuff like that,” you stubbornly said, slapping a hand over your mouth when he jabbed his dick up against your prostate with a sharp thrust.

“No? But is it—” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing when he felt you squeeze tighter around him, letting out a strained, labored breath. He tightened his fingers into fists that had his knuckles turning white, pressing his hips against your ass firmly for a moment before resuming. “But is it not the truth?”

You rolled your eyes, using your lack of momentum to kick his back with the heel of your foot. “You talk too much…”

“Is that so?” He retorted, a faint smirk gracing his features as he bent down lower, brushing his lips against your ear, and ignored the strained grunt you let out at the added tension to your back. “Then what would you like me to do?”

You hesitated, shivering pleasantly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. “Harder. Go harder.” The two of you remained silent for a beat, and you quickly realized he was expecting something else. “Please.”

“Good boy. Just because I’m doing this for you doesn’t mean you simply forget your manners,” he scolded lightheartedly.

And, like clockwork, your jaw snapped open to argue, but he wouldn’t allow it this time. He rammed his cock so hard in you stars danced through your vision, your body tensing and clenching down tighter around his cock. His breaths came out shallow and labored, focused on churning your insides to mush while you tried your damn best to keep yourself from getting too loud.

“Fuck—oh my God, sir, please—” you choked out, hands scrambling for purchase. You covered your mouth with one and buried your fingers in his hair with the other, inadvertently tugging on the strands and messing up his ponytail. “Wait…!”

“Is this not what you wanted?” He rhetorically questioned, his voice low, not needing to raise his volume over your surprised and needy moans. “A shame,” he continued, finding no desire to let up any time soon. He panted harshly into your neck, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he savored the feeling of your tight hole fluttering and pulsing around him. This closeness was unwarranted and wrong, he of all people knew that. But as you whimpered and whined into his ear, he also found that he didn’t mind it.

All that could be heard were the resounding slaps and your poorly concealed noises. The desk creaked slightly, straining under your combined weight as he kept you pinned down with his body, ignoring the quiet rustle of paper as a few fluttered off the desk.

“Fuck, m’so close, sir,” came your muffled words, eyes rolling in ecstasy as you dragged your hand down to clutch tightly at his back, fingers desperately curling into his clothes. “G-Gonna cum—don’t stop!”

“Quiet,” he shushed you, giving one of your thighs a brief pinch before he grabbed hold of your weeping cock to stroke it in time with his movements. Slick sounds emanated from you as he jerked you off with dexterity, stoking the raging heat in your belly. “I know you can lower your voice. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You meekly shook your head, letting go of his back to place both hands over your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself jolt up and down as he rammed himself into your ass rhythmically. Your legs tightened slightly around his neck, searching for something to cling to. You were so close and you knew he was aware of it. He refused to let up, pushing you higher and higher, groaning when you tightened around him reflexively.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your hands hardly able to catch your voice as you came hard, body shuddering and convulsing. He squeezed your dick, slowing down considerably to help you through your orgasm, sweat rolling down his temple at the shared body heat and the effort to please you.

He pulled out with a grunt, letting one of your legs fall off his shoulder as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off, sighing in satisfaction when he finally came. You shivered, resting an arm over your eyes in exhaustion as the two of you basked in the afterglow, chest heaving up and down as you panted hard.

“You’ve done well,” he murmured, cleaning his hands off with a tissue to massage your trembling thighs, giving you a moment to recompose yourself. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks…” you replied, taking your arm off your face to look at him. He was disheveled--the most unkempt you've ever seen him. You sighed gratefully when he moved your remaining leg down to grab another tissue and wipe off his and your cum that landed on your stomach.

"Here, take this." He handed you a bottle of water, fixing himself as soon as you accepted it. "It'll do you well to rehydrate yourself, especially after an intensive session such as this."

You drank a generous amount, wiping your mouth after you put the bottle down to retrieve your pants and underwear when he handed them to you. "Thanks. Again."

"Of course." He nodded, giving you more space to put your clothes back on, watching you with a soft expression. "It's getting late. Would you like me to escort you home?"

"I'm okay. I live, like, what, ten minutes away by foot?" You shook your head, wincing slightly at the ache in your back. You stood up and stretched, yawning, as you made your way away from the desk. You noticed a piece of paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, flipping it over to place atop the surface, realizing that it was your test that fell. Staring at the red numbers for a moment longer, you were overcome with a sense of embarrassment.

Man, the things you'd do for dick.

"Don't expect any leniency from me, [L.Name]," he said, walking over towards the window to open it, letting a fresh breeze carry the smell of sex outside. "My demands still remain."

"I know," you sighed, feigning dejection before you grabbed your stuff, walking towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then."

[ma1dita]

🐥

okay I dont wanna seem annoying but it's 10:53pm and the ideas r coming in but I already sent an ask in so do whichever u want first 😭

bf!Luke when he's sick headcanons? (can be in an au where they're js normal ppl or can be them at camp, your choice !! 🫶🏼

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: LIVVVVV i truly believe that if this man was sick with an SO that would take care of him he would be the biggest bitch alive just because he can

at camp:

it starts with a sniffle, luke trying to be oh so brave about it until he can’t ignore the sneezes that sound like they could shake the earth and all of cabin 11 (if you think those kids barely got sleep in general, you should see them get mad at luke’s dumbass going ACHOO for the 47th time that night)

so they rightfully complain to you to go get your man and drag his ass to the infirmary, because the cabin counselor he is loves taking care of others but throws a fit when they tell him to get checked out by the apollo kids talking bout “i don’t get sick, i’m too cool to get sick! heroes don’t get—”

yeah so he has the flu

one stern look from you sends him packing towards the infirmary, dragging his feet in the dirt and complaining the whole way

he puts up a fight the whole time, swatting the healer’s hands away to the point they want to tie him to the bed, and luke doesn’t like not winning

“luke just listen to the fucking healer and you’ll be out of here faster.” “bedrest! they want me to be strapped down here forever, babe, you know i don’t like not moving for that long! though if you were the one tying me down…” *sniffles innocently*

a cold towel smacks him in the face

you end up nursing his nasty germ-riddled ass back to health in a corner of the infirmary that you have to make your own for the next week and a half. 

but if you ask him, he felt fine after a few days—he just likes being taken care of by you

im bored lets do modern hcs too:

in this universe he’s still a little shit but at least you two live together in a cute little city apartment

luke’s laid out on the couch wrapped up in some of your coziest throw blankets as he scrolls through old reruns of friends, laughing at chandler’s humor because i imagine it to be a lot like his own (of course, if rick let him be funny instead of traumatized and an antagonist)

you’re making chicken noodle soup in the kitchen and the smell wafts through the air of your apartment even if he’s so congested his voice sounds funny when he talks

i think you guys would have two cats, brother and sister—absolute menaces, pouncing on him in turns trying to resuscitate their dad from his lifeless form on the couch to throw their little mouse toy around

that or a really big senior dog who sleeps at his feet and turns its head every time luke makes a funny noise

oh he’s still annoying in this one trust—you gave him a little silver dinner bell to ring if he needs you since you’re working from home in the other room but the problem is this man always needs you

ring. “babe!’ ring. “baby!” ring ring. “love of my life, absolute goddess among—*wheeze* humans, can you come here a second?”

“what’s up, honey?” “oh i just needed to see your pretty face. feeling better already!” 

you toss a pillow at his head and get back to your meeting.

when it’s over though, you join him in his little blanket fortress and he lays on your chest, sniffling and smiling as he pulls you into a kiss and thanking you for existing

you get sick after but it’s worth it. sort of like payback

[severedfromthesource]

Weightless

No gravity and no heartbeat. M rescuer, M resus, suffocation, chest compressions, AED

Cohl fumbled to grab the straps on Yui’s suit. They were just out of reach. His body kicked like he was swimming, but he knew he was doing nothing but expending energy. They both tilted weightless through the station as debris floated between them. He couldn’t get enough leverage to reach him as his internal systems sounded an alarm, the visor of his helmet blinking red with warning. One of his life support systems was failing. Cheap fucking equipment, he spit internally. They’d scavved both suits from a small military post that had been pelted apart by a meteorite swarm. Both men figured the military would have half decent space suits. They were wrong.

Yui weakly clapped against his chest and throat, his body convulsing in the air with the overwhelming need to breathe. He could only stare helpless at the two red goose eggs on his HUD. Oxygen reserves: 0.0 percent. He looked to Cohl in a panic. The other man was trying to push himself closer in suspension, but he was moving so slowly, and there was nothing to help him gain leverage. Yui would pass out before he reached him. And even if he did, what then? The romantic idea that he would share his oxygen reserves was sweet, and more or less keeping with Cohl’s chivalrous swashbuckler persona. But if he stopped breathing, flooding his helmet with oxygen wouldn’t do much. His lungs would stop working before Cohl made it over, he was almost sure of that. Already blackness crept in around the edge of his vision and Cohl’s stricken expression and his useless wading through empty space were growing darker.

“Yui, don’t pass out,” he shouted over the comms. The jerky movements were getting fewer and farther between. Cohl was beginning to panic himself. His own helmet was throwing out warnings to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t. He racked his brain for some solution. He couldn’t just keep floating like a jackass and watch him asphyxiate. He scrambled to pull up his remote ship controls. He could see their vessel through the huge windows circling around the abandoned station, haloed by a distant sun. The cockpit was empty, he’d told the ship to hover and wait for their return while they harpooned the station and reeled themselves in. Now he woke its systems, and began manually operating it. He swiped at the controls and urged the little ship to ram the nearest support pillar braced against the outside of the station. Their Hawk was hardly a match for the size of the huge spinning top they found themselves aboard, but maybe. Maybe it could make a difference. Otherwise… he didn’t want to think of otherwise.

The station groaned as the Hawk rammed against it and the room they found themselves in lurched. Cohl found himself being shoved to the side and smashed his ribs against a wall that rushed up to him, but finally, solid ground. He looked up to see Yui poised above him, and his heart lurched when he saw he had stopped fighting. His hands weakly flexed against the seal of his helm. “No, no, hold on,” he murmured under his breath, voice distorted by his helm.

Yui watched Cohl maneuver his legs underneath himself and kick out like a gold medal swimmer in the 100 meter. His lungs wouldn’t fill. His throat worked and his brain urged him to breathe, but there was nothing left. The last shallow pull of stale carbon dioxide made it down his throat and then nothing. His lashes fluttered. Pins and needles prickled in his limbs. Through hooded eyes he watched Cohl shoot towards him, dimly aware that he had tackled him and now grappled him around the waist.

“Got you,” he heard his voice exclaim over comms, though his mind was going dim, and he was starting to hear less and less. “Pretty sure I snapped off the Hawk’s beak, don’t be mad.” Arms encircled him as Cohl, his captain, his plucky rogue who earned every story about himself, shifted him so Yui’s back pressed against his front.

He kept him pinned there as he fumbled to disconnect Yui’s useless oxygen system. “You really made me look like an idiot back there, treading water like that,” he laughed shakily, unclipping one of his own oxygen tubes from his suit. It hissed and sputtered little clouds in the dark station and he attached it to the other valve, tightening it. He heard the click and then the hum as Yui’s suit once more flooded with air. He cupped his hand over his chest. “There we go, good as new.”

But Yui didn’t respond. His arms hung limply in the absence of gravity, his head rocked forward. Cohl felt his skin tighten in goosebumps. “Yui,” he said with some urgency, rapping a finger against his helmet, “Breathe in, bud. Come on, take a breath.” The terminal on his wrist blinked and he snatched his arm, lifting it to see what other god damn warning his suit was issuing this time.

CRITICAL CONDITION- RESPIRATORY ARREST DETECTED

He grabbed the collar of Yui’s helmet and turned it towards himself, urgently thumping his sternum with his palm. He called his name again and again, clutching at the second skin material of his suit as he turned to face him. He didn’t respond. Behind the glass, his face was slack, his eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. Blue was creeping into his lips. Cohl fumbled with his limp body as they tilted in the air. The stupid thing was supposed to have a failsafe for this, but it wasn’t triggering. He swore as he punched in the controls on the wrist terminal and the helm slid open. The light of the distant sun shone on Yui’s pale face. He probed his hand in around the edges of the helmet until he found the little nozzle tucked away to the side. He grabbed it, hooking a thumb over the bottom row of his second in command’s teeth and tongue with his other hand. He plunged the rebreather into his mouth and it latched, making a seal in his airway. Cohl once more wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s chest and felt his ribs flex as the thing breathed for him.

He looked at the readout again as his oxygen levels began to climb back up slowly. Too slowly. The fluttering little line of his heartbeat was quivering, hardly making spikes. Cohl closed his helmet again and wrapped both arms around him, braced against his midriff and across his chest. “Yui,” he pleaded again and shook him once, hard enough his helmet clinked off Cohl’s own. He made a fist and scrubbed his knuckles hard against his sternum, between the lithe muscles of his pectoral. The mechanical breathing swelled against his hand as the rebreather filled his lungs with the oxygen provided by Cohl’s life support systems. It forced his chest to expand and he heard a sigh crackling over their comms, expelling each breath given to him, his chest deflating in Cohl’s hands.

The terminal chimed and threw up holographic words. CRITICAL CONDITION- VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION DETECTED. He knew it to be true. His heart was quivering into Cohl’s palm, shaking and uncoordinated, too fast to properly push blood through his body. He felt the nervous bird flitting against the cage of his ribs. He cursed softly and gripped him by the shoulder, spinning Yui around. There were four circular ports, two over the right side of the heart, near the shoulder, and two tucked up beside his ribs on the opposite side. He flipped the little latch beside these ports and the suit sucked closer to the skin, pressing itself especially firm in these spots. He watched as the little ports began to hum and glow brighter and brighter in the center of their circular, metal frames.

“Automatic external defibrillator engaged,” came a robotic voice from the terminal, “Select charge.”

If these things were worth anything, let them be worth this. Cohl tapped the 200j option blinking at Yui’s wrist. “Charging,” said the voice, the device whining. Yui’s muscles convulsed. Cohl had to grip him tightly by the arm to keep him from drifting away as the defibrillator discharged into his fluttering heart, making his whole body jolt. His head snapped back, his shoulders shrugging, back crooking. “Shock delivered. Analyzing rhythm, stand clear of patient.”

“Not gonna happen,” he murmured to himself, cupping the other man’s helmet to tip his head back towards himself. He only just looked over at the projected monitor when the voice piped up, “No pulse detected. Begin CPR.”

A flatline cut through the darkness of the lonely station. “No, you’re kidding me,” he hissed, cupping a hand over the center of his breast. Nothing. Weren’t these stupid things supposed to fix a fibrillating heart? They weren’t supposed to kill the person, right? His mind spun. CPR. CPR? How the hell was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t put any weight behind the compressions, definitely not enough to shove his heart against his spine. He gripped his shoulder with one hand and shoved the heel of his palm against his heart. He only succeeded in nearly shoving his body away from him entirely. He looped an arm around his shoulders and tried again; again, there was no way to get enough leverage for an effective compression. His eyes roved over Yui from head to toe, then their surroundings.

“Hang on,” he huffed, resituating himself behind him again. He slid both arms around him from behind, bracing a balled fist against his unbeating heart. Settling his chin against his shoulder, he thrust in against his ribcage, forcing it to bow in towards his spine. He’d never had to actually use the scarce first aid lessons he’d been forced to sit through, ironically at Yui’s insistence.

Something told him this was harder than normal compressions. He couldn’t put his weight behind it, or rely on the ground to help squeeze blood from his motionless heart. It relied entirely on the strength in his arms; those felt like they were ready to fall off with how hard his own pulse thundered through his limbs. He kept it up anyway. Yui’s ribcage shifted under his skin, bowing with each hard thrust and expanding with each breath. “C’mon,” Cohl grunted, “We’ve been through worse than this, huh? Huh? You’re gonna let-hngh- this shitty station- ungh- be where you die? Cause of a dumb suit malfunction?”

Again, Yui’s heart began to quiver in his chest, shaking the space between his ribs. “Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.” “Yeah, no, I’m good here.” Again, the ports whined and began to glow. The display showed the shaky line of his heart struggling to beat, beneath that the line marking the device as it charged to 250. Cohl instinctively wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. His breath was noisy in his helmet. “Come on, come on, come on…”

Yui’s body bucked, knocking against Cohl’s chest as his limbs seized in the current. His muscles tensed and loosened, his helmet clanging hard off Cohl’s own. “Shock delivered-“ “I know the stupid thing delivered the stupid shock,” he growled, pressing his palm flat against Yui’s heart. “Is he alive or dead?” “No pulse detected. Begin CPR.” “Fucking hell-“

He started the compressions anew, harder this time, if he could even do them any harder. He beat his second in against his chest, sweat tickling his brow and neck. His entire focus, his entire being, was centered on the man dead- not dead, no, he couldn’t be dead. He was destined to die in some awesome, awe inspiring way on a distant planet. Crushed in a salt avalanche, fucked to death by some charismatic mantis alien, shot in a card game with interstellar pirates. This was undeserving of him. This was how rookies died. They weren’t rookies. Cohl and Yui were wanted criminals, their faces graced holo posters in three different systems. Haruki Yui was not suffocating in an abandoned research base. He was not dying while Cohl still had breath.

As he shoved against his sternum, listening to the quiet “Huff, hff, haa, hff” as he forced synthetic air from his still lungs, he wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings. The quiet atrium might as well be a distant star. He didn’t notice the wall the two of them were floating towards until his back bounced off hard metal. Cohl kept bending his battered ribcage and craned his neck to look; his eyes widened. Gravity engine- the OFF button burned red in the dark. Life support systems- OFF.

“Jesus, yes, yes,” he gasped and flicked both switches on at once. The station groaned in protest as ancient motors whirred to life and air began to sigh once more through her vents. Cohl hardly had time to roll in midair and brace Yui in his arms before they were once more leashed by artificial gravity. It sucked them to the ground, slamming them both to the metal grating of a small platform. Something in his side cracked and the air squeezed out of Cohl’s lungs. He soundlessly wheezed, arms in a vice around his second.

His body hurt even worse with gravity weighing him down once more. His arms and legs were jelly. His muscles ached. It took him a moment, and he cursed every second of that moment, to roll Yui’s body off and push himself up on his hands and knees at his side. He tore off both their helmets, drawing in as deep a breath as he could manage. Stale air stuck to the sweat on his skin and he’d never been more grateful for it. “Okay, we can do this. C’mon…”

He descended on Yui’s chest, stacking his hands as he began to pound against creaking bone. At this angle, it was easier to feel the fractures he’d split through his second’s sternum, bone rubbing against bone. His head rocked, each compression causing a tide to roll from his shoulders to his fingertips, his feet. His belly bulged against the tight skin of his suit, snapping up as Cohl snapped down against his heart. Was he too late? Hell, had he even been doing any good before? These compressions felt more violent, going much deeper, and he couldn’t stop the little voice nagging that Yui was gone. Would he already be back if he’d found the damn switch earlier?

His hands sunk into the center of Yui’s heart again and again. He might have been saying something, but he wasn’t even sure. He was getting light headed from the rush of air and exertion. Even so, his entire body jerked as the robotic voice once more spoke, “Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.”

This time, despite how badly he wanted to just scoop him up into his arms, he sat back, staring down at his second’s moon white face. The suit’s oxygen system forced his chest to rise at regular intervals, even if the breath left his lungs, unable to stick.

“Charging,” it announced. The display flashed 360j. It emitted a few rapid beeps as it reached the end of its charge. Yui’s chest was pulled into into the air with a sharp jerk, his head snapping to the side, arms convulsing from the shoulder and then falling limp again. “Shock delivered. Analyzing-“

Yui’s throat came unstoppered and he drew in a rattling breath, loosing a moaning exhale. Cohl was at his throat in an instant, hooking his finger between his teeth. He took hold of the rebreather and it slid back, coming loose from his trachea with a wet gurgle.

“There he is,” Cohl almost shouted, cradling his neck, “There we go, deep breaths! Christ alive…”

Yui croaked something that might have been, “Captain.”

Cohl pressed his forehead to the other man’s temple, nose pressed to his cheek, stuck between laughing like a maniac and breaking down in sobs. Instead of doing either he huffed, “This scavver shit isn’t for us.”

[justmeinadaze]

Im in Control Part 11 ( Steddie X You)

A/N: Do you remember the beginning of Lilo and Stitch where she gets into that fight with the little girl and the teacher tries to like reprimand her and she's like "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" That's how I feel posting this lol

Warnings: Feelings! All the feelings! With the smut of course. Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie. The boys get the reader a gift to have some fun with her. They do fuck up (I feel like) and there is some major angst with the boy going into more about their damage when it comes to their past. The reader mentions some trauma but it's not as in depth as theirs.

Rough sex (I mean...it could be rougher but still ) Its more the reader towards them. Slapping, hitting, etc. Um...am I forgetting something? Maybe.

Word Count: 5152 ( I let the angst flow through me *sinister laugh*)

“I hate weddings.”, TJ grimaces as he takes a drink from the flask in his pocket. 

“Oh, that’s nice. Give me my invitation back then.” As Randy reaches for the envelope, your boss pulls it back. 

“I said I hated weddings. I didn’t say I hated you. I will be there.”

You giggle from your place on your desk as Steve looks at the over stylized piece of paper in his hands. 

“TJ doesn’t hate weddings. He hates marriage. Thankfully, Randy, you aren’t looking into a mirror of the future.” You raise your hand to block the stress ball TJ throws in your direction and Eddie catches it from his place in front of you as it bounces off your palm. 

“And of course, you’re all welcome to bring a plus one.” Randy turns to look at you. “Except you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you are kind, funny, beautiful, and more importantly not jaded and bitter like these assholes. I want you to meet my friend who’s actually my best man. I think you two will really hit it off.”

“Jesus H Christ, why is everyone so obsessed with my romantic life? Randy, I appreciate the offer but I’m okay.”

“Oh, so are you bringing anyone?”

“I was going to go with these two.”, you gesture towards Eddie and Steve.

“Okay, well there we go. I’ll tell him you’re just bringing friends. Talk to him, Y/N. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

When you glanced at the boys, their eyes were still on the invitations but everything about their demeanor had totally changed. Steve’s chest rose and fell heavily while the hand that Eddie didn’t have holding the paper was balled into a fist on his knee.

“Hmm… I’m sure I will.”

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

“We have a present for you.” Steve grins as his hungry eyes scan your body. 

They had driven to your house to pick you up for the wedding but instead of meeting them outside like you normally do, he had come up to knock on your door. 

“What is it?”

“Hm, I can’t tell you. Here, go put it on before we’re late.” The man hands you the box before playfully slapping your ass, pushing you towards your room. 

After you open it, you stare at the contents completely confused. Inside was some admittedly cute lingerie but you didn’t understand why they would want you to wear it now and not later when the three of were playing. Nevertheless, you did as he asked, sliding the black lace panties under your green silk dress. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You smiled to yourself as he replied to you. You liked when pet names like that freely flowed from his lips without prompting or hesitation. 

“This bra is beautiful but it wouldn’t go with the dress. My straps are too thin and the cut is too low. Is it ok if I leave it here? I don’t want you guys to think I don’t like it.”

His tall frame suddenly appeared in your doorway. “Aw, look at you, being so sweet. Of course, that’s fine.”

You grin as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Steve extends his elbow to you which you take as he guides you towards the car. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You look breath taking.” Eddie flashes you a smile and you lean over the seat to kiss his cheek, 

“Thank you and thank you for my present.”

“Oh, yeah? You like it? We thought of you when we saw it.” The metalhead chuckled at Steve as he climbed in and started the car. “Harrington, as beautiful as you are, I don’t think that shade of lipstick suits you.”

He makes a face as he looks in the rearview and removes the imprint you left on his mouth. Steve leans over and lightheartedly punches his friend in the arm. “Don’t be jealous. Tell her more about the panties we bought.”

“Mr. Harrington, they are panties. There’s nothing intercut about them beside the very sexy lacey design along the side. Other than that, they cover all the naughty bits.”

“They better.”

You laugh at his stern tone as Eddie grins over at him before looking back at you. “Princess, these aren’t just any pair of panties. They… well, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

You watch him as he reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a tiny black remote. He wiggles it in your direction, showing it off before pressing a button at the top. 

A sudden jolt of vibration shoots through your body straight to your clit. 

“Fucking hell!”

“Oh hey, Steve. It works.” They smile at each other as the car stops at a stop light and Eddie climbs between the seats into the back with you. 

“What did you two do?”

“See, you can do little pushes…” His fingers pressed the button repeatedly and each little shockwave elicited a small moan. “Or you can push this button here…” His thumb pressed another section of the remote, allowing the vibration to be more constant as it messaged your nub. Your head fell against his shoulder as your hips began involuntarily moving, grinding against nothing.

“You can also change the intensity which is really cool.” As Eddie’s thumb slid along the side, the vibration between your legs gradually intensified causing your eyes to roll back. The man beside you licked his lips as he leaned them down to the shell of your ear. 

“Baby, you’re going to have to have a better poker face then that in front of these people.”

“I-I-I can’t…”

“Aw, Stevie. Little girl pretends she’s so tough but can’t hold it together for one night?”

Your face contorted in annoyance as you looked up to meet his gaze. “It…it’s not fair…when…”

While you were talking Eddie increased the intensity again making you reach out abruptly and cling to his shoulders. 

“Go on. What’s not fair?”

“I’m…I’m…”

“No, no. Tell me what’s not fair. Then you can cum.”

You felt the car stop as Steve parked, turning around to watch the display behind him. 

“It’s not…fair…when you…have an advantage…fuck! Please, please, please.”

“Go ahead, Sweetheart. Cum for us but keep your eyes on me as you do. Do you understand?”

“Y-y-yes, Sir.”

“What you’re feeling right now. That intense overwhelming pleasure as your cunt tightens and your body trembles. We control that. We are in charge of making you feel as good as you do right now.”

You bite your lip, controlling to urge to scream as you cum. The vibration between your legs abruptly stops as Eddie passes the remote to Steve. His beautiful eyes lock on to yours as he gestures to his friend. 

“Remember what he said when you’re talking to Randy’s best man.”

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

“I hate you both.”, you spit through gritted teeth as you three take your seat at the reception table. 

“No, you don’t.”, Eddie cackles. 

“We haven’t even done anything yet since the car ride here. Calm down, little miss.”

“Yeah, but the fucking anticipation…I don’t when you guys are going to—”

“Hey Y/N! Hey, boys.” Randy grins as he leans down to hug you. 

“Hey, man. That was a beautiful ceremony.”, Steve returns his grin with his own. 

“Thank you. I’m glad it’s all finally over though. Planning this was a huge pain in the ass and then the whole thing with the engagement party… Anyway,” he looks down at you. “I see you didn’t bring anyone with you.”

“See but I did though. I brought two!” You gesture to the guys but as your hand extends the groom takes it and pulls you out of your chair. “Randy, I don’t—”

“Hi. You must be Y/N. I’m Jason.” The best man offers you a hand which you hesitantly shake. He blinds you with his smile as he chuckles. 

“Jas, these are her clients. This is Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve heard a lot about you.”, he says emphatically as he greets them. 

“Oh yeah? Randy’s never mentioned you. The only Jason we know is from our hometown and he was kind of a dick.”

You narrow your eyes at Eddie as you pout your lips. “Really? I’m sorry for them. They are stubborn as all hell and complete assholes.”

“You’re right, Randy. She’s funny.” His eyes lock with yours. “I like that.”

The abrupt vibration between your legs startles a small yelp out of your lips as you turn to look at them. Both sets of eyes were glowing with amusement, completely ready to do this tango with you. It made your core throb with need as sat back down between them. 

“We have to go back to our table but we’ll talk later?”

Your lips quickly press together as the tremor between your legs escalates. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie leans closer to you. “The man is asking you a question. It’s impolite to not answer.”

“Yes, I WOULD like that vERy mmmuch.”

Jason softly smiles at you before turning with Randy and heading back to their designated area. 

“Fucking prick.”, the metalhead rolls his eyes.

“You just don’t like him because he wants our girl. Even though, I’m not going to lie, the vibe I’m getting is one pump chump. Then he’s gone. What do you think, honey?”

You hadn’t heard a word they said as your hand gripped Eddie’s thigh. They watched as you swallowed down pants, trying to control any moans from escaping. You suddenly felt Steve’s hand in your hair and the tenderness of his touch was enough to push you over the edge as your head leaned back, squeezing your eyes shut as you came.

“There we go. Atta girl. Such a good girl for us.” His eyes quickly scanned the room before using his fingers to push your hair behind your ear so he could see your face better. “Color, baby?”

“I still hate you but green.”, you smile in his direction. 

Steve’s own grin grows as he passes the remote to Eddie. “You can say it correctly. No one’s looking.”

Your eyes shifted around the room just as his had before finally resting on his juicy lips in front of you. 

“I wish I could kiss you right now, Daddy.”

“Well shit!”, TJ’s voice startled you both. “That was actually a fucking nice little thing they pulled off here.” 

You cleared your throat as you turned to face your boss. “Nice little thing? I’m sure the bride and groom will love that you’re calling it that.”

“Look, angel. I’ve done three of these. I think I’m an expert by now.”

“No one is questioning that.”, you giggle. 

“I’m just saying it’s nice, okay? Leave me alone.” He smiles, chugging back the wine in his glass. 

The reception continued in typical fashion with the bridal party and parents each giving a little speech. There was the typical throwing of the bouquet which Eddie found totally amusing that you didn’t want to take part in.

“Why not? Isn’t it like a whole thing for girls to want to catch the flowers?”

“For some, yes, but not me. I think someone who actually wants to get married sometime soon should grab it.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

You reached under the table and placed your hand in Steves. “Not right now but one day. Do you want to get married? I mean at some point.”

“Eh, I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you met me?”, he chuckles.

“Steve…”

“Don’t get married, son. Trust me! It’s a trap.” TJ raises his glass towards him as you roll your eyes. 

You notice that Eddie had gone uncharacteristically silent, reaching for his hand with your free one. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one happy marriage.” He softly smiles as your thumb caresses his skin. “And I think out of all my friends, Harrington’s parents are the only ones that are still together and they definitely aren’t happy.”

“My parents are still together and I’m your friend.”

“Are they happy?”

“Happily married, yes. Happy in general, no.”

The father and bride dance along the dance floor in front of you and after a while more people are to join. You glance at them both but neither man moves. 

“Excuse me.” You look up to see Jason smiling down at you. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“She very much would. Hi. I’m the boss. I’m TJ. This young lady deserves a dance. Hell, she deserves way more than a dance.”, he winks as you cringe. 

“I’m sorry. He’s wasted and an idiot.”

“No. Not a problem. So—”

“Go! Now! I’ll keep the boys company! They’ll survive a few minutes without you.” TJ shoves you into Jason’s chest and gestures you both way from the table. 

You place your hand on his shoulder taking the other to hold in the air as you sway to the music. You try to keep as much distance between you two as possible but it’s hard with his hand on the small of your back. 

“Randy tells me you’re an agent for some popular porn stars. That’s kind of neat. I don’t know a lot about the industry but…”

You couldn’t give a damn about what he is saying. You tuned him out as your eyes stayed on your table, watching as Eddie and Steve became increasingly more angry. They whispered heatedly to each other; well, Eddie did. Steve’s lips remained in firm line as he followed Jason’s movement with his eyes. 

Every time his hand drifted a little further down your waist, his chest would rise and fall as he told himself not to just get up and beat the shit out of this guy. Eddie pulled out the remote and you subtly shook your head. You knew if they teased you, you may grab onto Jason which would just make things worse.

Steve whispered in the metalheads ear making Eddie grin as he pushed one of the buttons forcing the panties to come to life between your legs. They weren’t going to make this easy, choosing to skip the little pushes and allow the vibration to turned on while you danced. 

“FUUUCK me…”, you mumbled.

“Are you ok?”, Jason asked as he looked you over.

“Yeah, yes, yeees. I’m fine.” A sudden increase in intensity pushed you forward into his chest. “Sorry. I, uh, trIIIpped.”

You turned glare at Eddie to find they were both already fuming. Steve reached over for the remote turning the vibration to its highest setting and you couldn’t help but cling to Jason’s shoulder for support as you felt your legs begin to shake. 

When his lips connected to yours, you immediately shoved him away from you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You were grabbing on me. I thought you were trying to…I don’t know!”

“We just met!”

“I don’t fucking know how women in this industry behave.”

“Yeah well, obviously, you have no idea how a man behaves either. Fucking prick.”

Your shoes click against the floor as you run out of the reception hall and enter the bathroom. As soon as Jason kissed you the vibration had stopped but you still reached aggressively under your dress, pulling off the underwear and throwing them on the counter. 

A knock on the door made you jump and as soon as you opened it Steve’s hands gripped your face. Eddie followed behind him, locking the door so no one else could come in. 

The man holding you quickly scanned your face as his thumbs wiped the tears from under your eyes. “Are you ok? What happened? Did he hurt you? Why are you crying?”

“No! No. I just got overwhelmed with the underwear, seeing you guys look so hurt, and then him fucking kissing me. I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve pulled you to his chest as you tried to calm down. “Hey. Breathe, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”

“We took it too far. We just hated seeing his hands on you.”, Eddie sighed.

“I didn’t want to dance with him! I didn’t want anything to do with him but no one fucking listens to me! I just want to be with you! With both of you! I fucking love you!” 

You immediately closed your mouth trying to stop your words but they had already flowed from your lips. Steve’s hands dropped from you as both men leaned back against the wall. Your breath shook as you exhaled, eyes shifting between them. 

“I love you.”, you repeated with a bit more confidence. 

“This was a mistake. We pushed her too hard.” Steve’s voice was low as he spoke to Eddie. 

“You think? She thinks she’s in love with us.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t talk to each other like I’m not here.”, you scowl.

“Maybe we should give her space.”, Eddie continued as he folded his arms across his chest. 

You march up to the boy and grip his cheeks in your hand like they do with you when you won’t answer a question. “STOP! Talk to me, Eddie.”

Roughly, he pulls face from your hands and pushes you backwards away from them. “You can’t love us.”

“Why? Was that some fucking rule I missed?”

“Munson, it’s ok. Little girl thinks she’s in love. It’s kind of cute.” Steve’s tone is dripping with condescension.

“I…I don’t think. I-I-I…”

“I-I-I… yeah, you sound real sure of yourself.”

“That’s because you’re intimidating me a bit! I just…don’t understand. Why can’t I love you? Why would that be such a bad thing?”

“We aren’t people you fall in love in love with, honey.”

“Oh? So when you told me that you cared about me…where did you expect this to go?! At some point like turns to love, Steve. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Steve’s head hangs as he slightly turns to speak in Eddie’s direction. “I told you this was a mistake.”

“No! Don’t turn this around and make me into one of the people who left you guys. You’re the ones pushing me away right now and for a stupid reason!”

“It’s not stupid! We’re protecting you. Trust me. You don’t love us. You don’t WANT to love us.” Eddie glared at you trying to keep his strong composure intact. 

It suddenly all hit you at once. 

“I’ve never seen a happy marriage…Come on, honey. Have you met me?... My dad beat the shit out of me…A smart mouth just like your fucking mother…My dad was barely home. He never cared. Always made me feel like I wasn’t enough… I didn’t do enough to protect you…”

“Eddie. Steve. You… you guys aren’t your parents. You’re not your dads. This thing here that we do…it’s not the same.”

“We should get back out there before people start wondering where you are.” Steve started to move out of the way so he could open the door but you held him still with your palm against his chest. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t ignore me. Don’t ignore my feelings. When we started our relationship, you asked me if I had any boundaries you shouldn’t cross. This right here is a big one. My mom pushed aside my feelings all the time especially if they didn’t align with her beliefs. Please, don’t…don’t do this. Don’t be selfish. I’ve been through some shit to and being open with you guys like this is extremely hard. But I DO love you and if you don’t that’s fine. It is what it fucking is but don’t you DARE preach to me some bullshit about how I can’t because of who you are.”

Eddie looked at Steve as they had a silent conversation between them. The metalhead nodded before shoving his friend to the side and barreling out into the hallway. 

Steve grabbed the door handle, pausing to glance your way. “Our private arrangement is over. If you feel like you can’t be our agent anymore, we’ll understand. We’ll bring your stuff from our house to your office on Monday. You can let us know then.” With that he was gone.

Your entire body felt numb as you stood there staring at the spot they had just been standing. Your body glided out of the bathroom of its own free will as you passed through the reception hall like a ghost. 

“Y/N, have you heard of this—Y/N?”, TJ’s eyes followed you with genuine concern. You couldn’t bear to look towards the other two men at the table. “Y/N? Angel, where are you going?”

He got up to trail after you, gently reaching for your arm. As you looked up at him, it was like being shaken from a trance. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

I’m not in control.

You suddenly fell into his arms and cried. He guided you to a nearby bench, holding you to him as he gently rocked you back and forth. “I told you weddings are the worst.” A heavy breath left your chest as you laughed and he smiled at the sound. “I’ve known you for 5 years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hurt like this. Now I know I’m your boss but I care about you so I just have one question. Whose ass am I kickin’?”

You didn’t see it but Steve was watching you two out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is she still crying?”, Eddie asked as he looked down into his glass. 

He shook his head. “TJ’s making her smile.”

“Good because we’re fucking assholes.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why we are letting her go.”

“Are we? Or are we throwing more salt in her wound by staying around as her clients?”

“Go ahead, Munson. Go tell her we’ll be leaving as her clients as well which could get her fired in the process.”, Steve chugged back the last of the wine in front of him. 

“She was fucking right you know. We never should have crossed that professional line. We should have just left her alone especially if it was going to end like this. She was right about everything. I mean, where did we think this relationship was going to go, Harrington? I feel like we’re worse than our dads for stringing her along and I hope you enjoyed watching that prick paw on her because we are going to be seeing a lot more of that now.”

“Excuse me.”  They jumped at the sound of your voice. “You two gave me a ride here and TJ is too drunk to take me home. Can you please—”

“Yeah. Not a problem.” Steve quickly fishes for his keys as both boys stand. 

“Thanks, guys. I’d drive her but I don’t have my car and I am way too wasted.” TJ grins as he gives you one final hug. “At least I know she’s safe with you guys.”

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

The entire car ride to your house is completely silent. As soon as they parked, Eddie began to move so he could get out and open your car door. 

“No. No, no. Mr. Munson. I got it. Thank you for the ride.” You reached for the door, stopping halfway as you addressed them. “I don’t need until Monday. I’ll still be your agent but I have rules of my own.”

You heard them shuffle in their seats to face you and for the first time since the bathroom, you met their eyes. 

I’m in control.

“We don’t talk about anything unless it’s business related. I think that’s best for everyone. You will stay out of my personal business and I will stay out of yours. That’s, um, that’s it actually. That’s all I had.”

They silently nodded and you did the same, reaching for the door again. 

“We’re sorry… for what it’s worth…”

You sarcastically laugh as you lean back in their back seat, casually gesturing towards Eddie. “Letting Daddy speak for you again, I see. You know what, Steve. Nothing. Your sorry is worth NOTHING. I trusted you two and what did that get me? This is the second time in our relationship you both have made me feel stupid. I put a lot on the line for this relationship. My career, my friendships, my personal life. I have told you two things and done things with you that I have never said or done with anyone else! I even left a good man because I put my faith in you. I’m an IDIOT but it’s fine.”

“It’s fine because it’s fucking over. No one, hear me, NO ONE has ever hurt me like you two just did. So, Steven, that sorry apology isn’t worth the pain I’m feeling right now.” You finally exit the car and slam the vehicle door. “Thank you for the ride.”

The tears started to flow as you made your way towards your front door. A strong hand gripped your shoulder, turning you around as Steve’s lips crashed to yours. Eddie promptly opened your front door as Steve guided you inside. You pushed him back against the wood, smacking his face with your palm. 

Glaring up at him, you did it again and he didn’t do anything to stop you. Shakily, you tore at his suit as he roughly pulled at your dress. Your back suddenly hit the wall outside of your bedroom as his lips heatedly kissed your own. As he started fumbling with his belt, you shoved at his chest, trying to push him back. Your hand collided with his cheek again and when his face turned back towards you, his brown eyes were overshadowed with lust. 

“Is that best you can do, little girl? Come on. I know you can do better.” You hit him again, feeling his bare chest heave at the feeling. “Oh, come on, baby! Really let go.” Your tiny hands pushed and punched at his chest as you felt the tears well up in your eyes again. 

“Fuck you, Steve!” Your fell back against the adjacent wall and his body came with you as his head leaned near your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He kicked his pants to the side, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as you clung to his neck. “I don’t want to hurt you either, honey.” Your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself inside of you, thrusting at a steady pace as he spoke.

“You’re not an idiot and you’re not fucking stupid. You are the best girl we have ever known. We have to do this, baby.”

“You don’t have to, Daddy.” He grunted as you pulled his hair, making him look at you. “You don’t have to. You—mmm—aren’t him. Fuck. Please, please. Harder, Daddy.” Without pulling out, he carries you into your bedroom and falls with you onto the bed, smacking his hips against yours as you moan. 

“You deserve better, Y/N.”

“Please, make me cum. Please, Daddy.”

Steve pushes up on to his arms, pumping into you as hard as he can, watching as your body bounces below him. Your nails scale down his chest as you cum, clenching around him making mewl as he moves faster against you. He falls onto you, his hips faltering as he cums inside of you.

As he rolls to the side, you sit up on your elbows to meet Eddie’s blown out eyes. He had already removed his suit and was slowly stroking his cock as he watched you both. 

You expected Eddie to immediately take what he wanted but when he placed himself in front of you, his arms abruptly pulled you into a hug. 

“He’s right, Princess. You deserve better.”

“Then why did you even bother, huh? You should have just kept fucking me the way you were or better yet…just left me alone.”

He leaned back to look at your face as ran his fingers through your hair. “I don’t know. You’re right. We should have kept things the way they were.”

You bottom lip trembled as you tried holding yourself together. Balling up your fist, you punched his chest, knocking him back slightly. 

“That…does NOTHING for me, Eddie! Just like his fucking apology. Or I’m sorry, both your apologies. Did Stevie tell you this was for the best and you just went along with it?”

He looked down, trying to control his temper. Eddie knew he deserved this after hurting you. 

“No.”

You hit his chest again but this time he turns into it. “Just no…Sir? That’s all I fucking get? No!”

As your fist flies, he reaches out to grip your wrist and pulls you closer to his face.

“No because I don’t need him to remind me where I come from! I’m a Munson, sweetheart. We’re all destined to be fuck ups. I am meant to destroy you, Y/N. Is that what you want?! Because that’s what you claim to love.”

He pushes your chest, making you fall backwards as he quickly grabs your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed. Eddie runs the tip of his cock between your folds a few times before breaching your entrance. Hugging your legs against his chest, he thrusts into you with purpose.

The sound of your strained voice draws his attention as he looks down at your sweaty face. “I…I don’t—mmm—I don’t understand why—FUCK!”

“Why what, baby. Tell him.” Your eyes meet Steves as he gently pets your head, caressing your forehead with his thumb. Eddie slows his pace allowing you gather your thoughts.

“I don’t understand why you…see yourselves so…negatively.” A tear escapes your eye and Steve tenderly wipes it away. “I trusted you.”

Eddie opens your legs, wrapping them around him as he leans down to capture your lips. He holds you to his mouth, feeling your pussy tighten around him as you cum again. Leaning up on his knees, he chases his own high, furrowing his eyebrows together as he cums a few moments after you.

Steve wasted no time getting a wash rag from your bathroom and taking care of you. You sat on the edge of the bed allowing them to do their thing, staring off into the void as they did. Eddie threw a shirt over your head and for the first time since you had started your relationship, he put one of your own on you. 

The dam broke as you cried again. Steve wrapped his arms around you, shifting your body so your head was on your pillows. When he moved to leave, you didn’t let him go. Not until you felt him crawl under the covers with you as Eddie did the same. His arm encircled around your waist behind you as Steve watched your face till your eyes slowly began to close. 

“Steve? Eddie?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Please, don’t be here when I wake up.”

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

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[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P8

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Medical stuff, family issues and Violence.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ….. Next part >

After taking the pills you got washed and headed straight to bed, today was eventful to say the least but your glad you at least got somewhere with figuring out what is going on. Groaning you roll over onto your side while rubbing your head, it's still hurting but hopefully the pills you took will take the pain away soon but until then you need sleep. Closing your eyes that image from before comes back making your head hurt more but your eyelids are too heavy to reopen so you can't do much other than let your body and mind fall into a deep sleep. After finishing the mountain of paperwork at the local bakery you finally have enough money to buy what you need to fix the fire damage to your ship, the only problem is your gonna have to fight to get the right price. The town's people here are more than happy to over price an item to outsiders, heck they'll over price bread if it'll make them more money but over the past month of being here you've managed to come to a compromise with the bakery, a free piece of bread and a bit of money in exchange for you doing their taxes, its better than nothing but you still wish it was more. Walking into the parts shop you spot the rugged shop keep talking to two people you haven't seen before, both were quite tall and thin but muscular, they differently weren't normal travelers, maybe bounty hunters or pirates? One of them has red hair that sticks up, something black strapped around his head but from the back you can't make out what they are, he has a long black coat on with a red feather collar and gold spikes on his shoulders. He seems to be getting more and more angry at the price the shop keeper is giving for each item but the shop keep wasn't budging on the price. The other man sighs with his arms crossed over his chest, his black and white poker dot shirt slightly open, even though he was more side on you can't see his expression with that white and blue striped mask covering his head. His blonde hair is extremely long, longer than yours before you cut most of it off, It stretches past his knees but looked well taken care of, it amazes you a little.

Turning your eyes away from the two you head over to the shelves close by looking for what you need. The man with red hair sighs as the shop keep tells them the overall price, it's way higher than it needed to be and you didn't blame the red haired man for getting angry, you want to help out but with the shop keep right there you knew it's a bad idea, the man wouldn't sell you anything after losing money because of you. "At least throw in some scrap metal for free" The red head growls slamming his hand on the counter causing what metal parts are on there to shake violently, he glares down at the shop keep who doesn't seemed fazed by the man's gaze or out burst. With a heavy sigh the shop keep nods "Fine, I'll grab all you need and add some scrap metal for free" The shop keep then turns leaving the room and heading into the back "This is fucking ridiculous, 50,000 just to fix the ship's engine?" The red haired man sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. You truly feel sorry for them now, they were in the same position as you, with a ship that won't work and people who are unwilling to give you a decent price but maybe if you help them they could give you a ride to the next island, maybe then you can buy a better boat and leave that shitty one here. It would be much easier than spending another month earning the money needed to fixing it up. There is a chance that their pirates but all you have to do is be useful and not let them know about your past and who your parents are, it should be easy since you hate your parents and want nothing to do with them so not talking about them won't be a problem.

You take a second to compose yourself not wanting to show any kind of weakness to the two. "He's overpricing you by 30,000" You call out earning a Huh of anger in response from the red haired man who turns to look at you "What the hell you say?" Turning to look at the two pirates you can now see the red heads face and that strap thing on his head are goggles, you move your eyes down to look at the counter and point to the giant cog "Its takes 500 Berries to make a cog like that but their sold to places like this for 1,000, the market price after that is 2,000 to 2,500, but he's selling it to you for 5,000." You state before moving your eyes to look at the red haired man who raises a brow at you before looking down at the cog on the table. "Let me guess he gave you a deal too? Don't worry he does that with every newcomer" You sigh only for the red haired man's eyes to burn with anger his hands gripping into fists as he growls but the man next to him places a hand on his shoulder to stop the red haired man from destroying the shop in anger. "We should just go somewhere else" The masked man tried to calm his friend down but you let out a sigh catching their attention again "Sorry to be the barer of bad news but every shop around here is like this, even the bakery, you could try intimidation but i find blackmail or outsmarting them to be more effective" you smile at the two hoping to built up some kind of rappor with the two before offering your deal but with how the red haired man shakes with anger your starting to think he might destroy the shop before you can help.

The masked man turns to look at you then turns to look at the red head who glares at you, the two seem to think for a moment before you sigh and step closer to them "I can help if you want but i'm gonna need something in return" You state earning a low growl from the red haired man who shrugs his friends hand off his shoulder before stepping closer to you almost towering over you "First i don't need your help and second like hell I'd give you any kind of money, I don't even know if your telling the truth, now back off pip squeak" His stare and looming presence is scary you have to admit but you've dealt with people like this before, keeping calm and maintaining eye contact you raise an eyebrow at him "Who said anything about money? You have a ship right? All i want is to get to the next island with a village, you can keep your money" you state crossing your arms over your chest. The red head looks you over trying to decide weather he should trust you or not until the masked man walks over placing his hand back on his friends shoulder "You just want get to the next island?" The masked man asks which you nod at unfolding your arms "One with a village yes. I don't want to be dropped off on an inhabited island, i'm not stupid" You let out a small laugh hoping to lighten the mood but to your surprise the red haired man chuckles before throwing his head back in laughter. It catches you off guard and little so you raise an eyebrow at him not understanding what's so funny but too afraid to ask at this point.

Looking back down at you the red haired man stop laughing and places a heavy hand on your shoulder before leaning down to be eye level with you, "Fine pip squeak you have a deal but you'll have to work on the ship, i'm not having you lazing around" With a smile you nod agreeing to his terms just as the shop keep comes back out with a large crate of parts and a few small pieces of scrap metal "The hell?" The red head yells storming over to counter and grabbing the small pieces of scrap metal "This is all i can spare" The shop keep shakes his head while crossing his arms over his chest, with a sweet smile you walk over placing your hand on the counter "That's not very nice of you Mr Conway" You state getting the man to look at you, he bites his tongue knowing what your like, you always fight him for the best deals so doesn't want you involved "I'll be with you in a minute" He waves his hand at you hoping you'll go away but you stay put "You and i both know you have way more in the back, i mean didn't you just come back from salvaging a ship wreck?" you ask knowing that isn't the case. The masked man walks up behind you crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you work while the red haired man goes through the parts checking their quality. "Its all gone, i used it to make other parts" The shop keep says through gritted teeth his body starting to stiffen, You were going to wait to use the information you gathered from the bakery later on but now that you'll be leaving the island you might as well use it now.

With a sigh you lean on the counter looking up at the shop keep with a small smile "Mr Conway, do you know what I've been doing the past week?" he raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head wondering what your up too "I've been doing the bakery's taxes and funding reports. Miss Kelly is your wife's best friend right? So imagine my surprise when finding that you sent her a check for 10,000 which was spent on a weeks vacation for her and… someone else" His eyes start to widen as you talk, realizing that you've caught onto him "Its kinda a coincidence don't you think that she would go away at the exact same time as you and come home at the exact same time" you tilt your head to the side giving him a knowing smile "Yes, its just a coincidence, you have no idea what your talking about" he glares at you as his breath catches in his throat trying to remain calm, you know now is the perfect time to strike so you stand up straight "Really? Because the boat tickets and hotel recites say different.. Both have your names on them. Now I could give you the benefit of the doubt and say your not having an affair with your wife's best friend but it's hard to explain away that you two stayed at Deplar Farm for a week" You state seeing his eyes widen in shock, It's a well known and expensive romantic hotel, mainly filled with honeymooners and engaged couples. You can see his breath quicken at you knowing but his eyes turn to anger.

Before he can start an out burst you lean closer to him "Take 30,000 off the bill or I'll send your wife the recites and conformation of the check." Your smile drops showing how serious you are about it, The red haired man next to you leans on the counter his smile wide as he watches you work but your eyes stay focused on the increasingly angry shop keep "You fucking Bitch, you wouldn't dare… I'll fucking kill you before that happens" You don't flinch at his threat, you know his type all too well, he's a coward who likes to act tough but when it comes to fighting he'll let someone else do it. The masked man behind you reaches for something but the red head next to you holds out his hand signaling to his friend not to do anything. Reaching into your pocket you pull out a thick folded up piece of paper "Mr Conway, i'm not stupid, The stuffs already in the mail just waiting to be sent out, now i can cancel it but… i have to be alive to do so" You know he'll assume the piece of paper in your hand is conformation from the post office "Fine, 30,000 off the bill" he states getting the red haired man to smile more and let out a laugh "I appreciate that but i'm still hurt that you would threaten my life so, i hope you can make it up to me by giving us the rest of the scrap metal in the back" you act hurt while placing a hand on your heart, the shop keeps eyes widen at that but sigh and look at the piece of paper in your hand "Tell you what in exchange I'll give you the code that cancels the postage, its on the letter" The man growls at you but nods looking down at the paper in your hands before walking off to the back to get what you want.

Once he's gone the red head slaps you on the back forcing you forwards with a yell of shock and slight pain "Fucking hell girl, You've more than earned your place now" He laughs as you rub your back and look over at him with a groan of annoyance "Kid" The masked man sigh shaking his head at his friends actions but the red haired man who you know is now called Kid waves his hand at his friend not caring that he might have hurt you "Kid.. I'm Y/n" You smile at the red haired man who turns to you at his name, you hold your hand out for him to shake but instead he folds your finger in to make a fist, so he can fist bump your hand instead. You laugh a little at it before turning to the masked man who holds out his hand for you to shake, you take it and let his firm grip shake your hand "Killer… Thanks for the help" he states before letting go "No problem" you smile at the two before the shop keep comes back with a much bigger crate of scrap metal, Kid slams the money down on the table and grabs some crates starting to walk away as Killer grabs the rest, you hold out the paper to the shop keep who snatches it out of your hand and gives you a death glare "Thanks Mr Conway, it's a pleasure doing business with you" you wave while walking with Killer out the door, Kid goes to say something to you as you three walk away, when the shop keep starts yelling profanity's at you while seeming to throw a fit inside the shop. You can't help but laugh as the noise gets further and further away "The hell?" Killer asks as you managed to calm down "I never put the stuff in the post… The paper i gave him was my shopping list" you hold back your laugh as Kid throws his head back in laughter and Killer's shoulders shake.

The morning sun hits your eye startling your body awake but you can't sit up since there's something pressing on your head, with wide eyes you look around the room soon spotting the doctor next to you his hand on your forehead keeping you down "There you are… You had us worried" He states with a smile but now your even more confused, something to your right gets your attention so looking over you stop another male doctor although he looks a lot younger. "Wh-what?" You ask unsure of why there are two doctors in your room when you feel fine, your not in pain and your headache is long gone. "You had a Seizure but its over now… Its seems the seizure medication we've been giving you isn't enough, so we're going to have to up the does" The main doctor tells you before helping your sit up, with a gasp the young doctor runs over from where he was tying back the curtains to quickly grab a tissue and hold it under your nose. Cold red liquid drips from your nose and onto the bed sheets before the young doctor can react but you manage to catch most of it with your hand before taking the tissue and pinching the bridge of your nose. "I-I think i remember something" You state but your voice sounds very stage as your fingers stay attached to your nose, the main doctor sighs before handing you a small paper cup with three blue pills in them "There's a chance what you saw was a seizure dream as we call it, your brain making up strange occurrences that don't make sense so please take it with a grain of salt. These are the seizure meds, you'll take three, twice a day along with your other meds."

Pulling the tissue away from your nose and letting your finger slowly release the bleeding seems to have stopped so you take the paper cup and a glass of water the young doctor hands you. The main doctors words confuse you but you shrug it off and take the pills making the two smile while standing up straight "We'll take our leave, the nurse will check on you in half and hour" The main doctor sates before turning and walking out the door followed closely by the young doctor. Placing the glass down you sigh and rub your head while trying to think about what just happened, is it normal top feel perfectly fine after a seizure? Yes you had a nose bleed but other than that you feel fine. There's also what he said about the memory you had, there's a chance what he said is correct but it wasn't confusing, it was clear as day and made sense, Kid and Killer look at lot different than they did in your memory but you didn't get a look at yourself so have no idea how old you might have been. Maybe you should bring it up to the two and your parents separately and see what answers you get, although you doubt your parents will give you even a second alone with the two men. Sighing you get out of bed and head into the bathroom deciding to get a wash and changed, it's the first time you've been alone and awake enough to look at yourself without prying eyes so taking the time you look yourself over. Your glad your hair's somewhat short still, having it as long as it was would be a nightmare, how does Killer do it?

Laughing to yourself you shake your head wondering why he popped into your head all of a sudden, looking over the rest of your body there are some tattoos on your thighs that are intact giving you an idea of what you have been into or what you liked but the two that stuck out made you blush. On your inner left thigh is a red kiss mark tattoo , there's a slight gap between the bottom and top lip but no cupids bow, there's also hardly any lines on the ships making them look smooth. For some reason Kid slips onto your mind making your cheeks go bright red and your stomach flutter. Shaking the thought of him out of your head you continue to look over only to be surprised yet again by a kiss mark tattoo on your inner right thigh directly opposite the other one, It's different to the other in many ways though for instance their thinner, its color is a pale purple and the cupids bow is very defined, the peeks coming to a point instead of a curve. This one doesn't bring any kind of image to mind so you continue looking, over your stomach, your chest and your arms, removing the bandages you look over your scared, tattooed and stitched up sink before placing the bandage back around you. They'll be replaced again today anyway so there's no point in trying to put them back the exact same way to hide what you've been doing. The scars are old while the cuts and stitches are most likely from the explosion but the tattoos are expertly done, showing that you went to someone who knew what they were doing, not just some random person who decided to tattoo one day.

[euphoriaslux]

hello!

hi everyone, so sorry i have been mia this month your girl had a wee bit of a depressive episode but you know what we're BACK! I'm going to get back to writing daily so i can feed you guys and stop focusing so much on perfection because ultimately i am writing smut about fictional characters who do not know who i am, why do i care so much!!

anywho, here's a little snippet of my part two for "two's a party" that will hopefully come out very soon :) this is mainly angst but there are three separate smut scenes in the whole fic because I'm sick in the mind. my vincent fic will also hopefully come out soon, i have had such trouble writing him for some reason so i think i need to rewatch aoaf and get an idea of his characterization again... ANYWAY enjoy this snippet and let me know if u guys have any requests :p

The sun has set, and you find yourself standing outside of the tennis courts. You passed by gaggles of students on their way to parties and bars, wearing tight clothes and big smiles with the scent of cheap liquor stuck them like a cloud. Hearing the sound of tennis balls clanging against the metal gate, you open the door to the courts ever so slightly, peering in to see Art grabbing neon green balls from a bucket before slamming them with his racket, making you cringe at the harsh smack it makes when it comes in contact with the wall. 

There’s no one else in the courts, likely because it’s nearly sunset on a Friday.  You try and close the door quietly behind you but it makes a loud sound as it goes back to its original position, and you shake your head slightly as Art turns around, meeting your eyes. He’s wearing a Stanford Tennis sweatshirt, with his blond locks peeking out from the black cap that’s backwards on his head. He stands, staring at you for a few moments before he puts his racket on the floor, walking towards you. Your heart starts thumping in your chest, so fast that you’re scared he’ll be able to hear it through your ribcage. 

“Hi,” you smile, hoping your nerves don’t show. You hug your arms as a particularly strong wind chill passes through, feeling the goosebumps start to form. 

“Hi,” he parrots you, slightly breathless. 

“You haven’t been to class lately, just wondering if you’re alive.”

“That’s a good excuse to stalk me,” he grins, and you feel your shoulders drop at the sight. 

“Good to see your confidence hasn’t taken a hit,” you say as he takes some tennis balls from the pocket of his sweatshirt and tosses them into the bucket before taking a few steps closer to you. 

“Nope,” he says, his mouth popping at the p. 

“I think that may be impossible.”

“What gave you such an impenetrable ego, Art?” you cock your head and he shrugs, smiling as he puts his hands on his hips.

“Don’t know, maybe being great at hitting a ball with a racket your whole life does something to your brain chemistry. The jury’s still out on if it’s a good thing,” 

You hum, stifling a laugh. The two of you stand quietly for a few moments before you talk.

“Last weekend, if I did something wrong-”

“No, you didn’t do anything,” Art cuts you off, sighing at the topic. “Patrick and I-”

“We got into a stupid fight. It doesn’t matter.”

You play with the skin around your nails. 

“That makes me feel like it was my fault.” You take a deep breath before talking again.

“What you and Patrick have, how you know each other. How you’ve grown together, and play together. I would feel awful if I played any part in messing that up.”

Art scoffs. “No need to be melodramatic, we’re not fucking dating or anything.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. 

“I saw he has a match this weekend…” you prompt, and Art nods.

“Are you gonna go?,” you ask gently. Art says nothing, and you decide not to press him. 

“Okay, well I’m going to go,” you adjust the strap of your backpack. 

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

Art looks you up and down before he takes off his hat and then brings his sweatshirt over his neck, tossing the sweatshirt into your chest as he puts his hat back on. 

“Don’t want you getting cold.”

“It’s fine, Art-”

“You’ll give it back to me next time.”

Feeling the fabric between your fingers, a grin crosses your face at his words.

"Alright, next time.''

Art watches as you walked out of the tennis courts, leaving him alone in the quiet noise of the sunset. He’s forced to remember that morning with Patrick.

 

It was a couple of minutes before seven, the sunlight just starting to creep through the blinds of the hotel window. You’d just shuffled out of the room a couple hours ago, your shoes in your hands and your shirt on backwards. Art was laid across the two twin beds that they pushed together, his hand on his stomach as he watched Patrick grab his shirt, pulling it on and buttoning the bottom three buttons. 

“Can’t find my pants,” Patrick muttered as he stopped his movement, his eyes scanning the room. Art snickered from his position on the bed. 

“They’re on the chair,” Patrick turned at Art’s voice, grinning as he walked across the room to find his jeans perched on the wooden chair. He could feel Art’s eyes on him as he tugged his pants above his thighs, zipping his jeans and leaving a sliver of his boxers visible. 

This continues for a while - Patrick haphazardly packing and stressing about his tennis game tomorrow as Art falls in and out of sleep, slightly jolting when Patrick closes a drawer particularly hard or trips over a piece of clothing on the floor. Art was almost asleep again when he heard Patrick’s voice, muffled by the bathroom door. 

“Can I use your razor?”

 Before he could think, Art yelled back “I have a new one in my backpack, just use that.”

Patrick’s movement stills for a moment before he pops his head out of the bathroom door, his hand raised with the razor and a slight furrow in his brows. 

“I can’t use yours?” he asks, and Art doesn’t like the guilt that the question causes him, and doesn’t know why the ask makes his mouth dry. 

“Just use the new one. You won’t get my hair on you.”

“No sweat,” Patrick moves to go back to the bathroom but is cut off by Art.

“Use the new one, Patrick.”

“Jesus Christ Art, I just need to use your damn razor,” Patrick’s smiling, but his voice is a little sharper, a twinge of hurt playing on his tongue. 

“Fine, use it. I don’t care,” Art sighs as he rises from the pillow to sit up, pinching the place between his eyes.”

“My dick was in your mouth last night, in case you forgot.”

Patrick rests against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, Art stares at Patrick for a few moments, feeling the skin on his face get warm. Of course he remembers last night, but hearing it out loud makes him feel a weird mix of rage and embarrassment. Art stands up and moves towards the dresser, grabs his clothes, and starts to put them on. 

“Dude, is it so insulting to think you wanted to fuck me?” Patrick says through a laugh, watching Art intently. 

Art pulls his arms through the sleeves of his sweater, staring at his brunette counterpart as he stuffs his wallet into his pocket. 

“Patrick. Don’t think I did anything last night that wasn’t just to fuck her, alright?” Art gives a tight-lipped smile as he grabs his keys. He tries to move towards the door but Patrick is faster, cutting him off as he blocks the door. 

“C’mon Art,” he playfully taps his chest. 

“It’s just me. You can be honest.”

The soft tone Patrick uses, the implications, the stuffiness of the room and the sight of Patrick’s slightly tousled hair infuriates Art. 

“What the fuck did you think was gonna happen today, Patrick? I mean, what, we were gonna walk out of here holding hands, drinking a milkshake with one straw or something?” Art chuckles dryly, seeing the change in Patrick’s face as he realizes what he’s saying. He knows he’s being mean, but he doesn’t know why. He’s too far gone, now. 

“I don’t want to be with someone like you, and I thought you knew that.”

Art’s words stick in the air as Patrick chews on his lower lip, slightly nodding. 

'“Good luck tomorrow,” Art pats Patrick’s shoulder as he pushes past him to open the door, but Patrick grabs his wrist right after the key clicks open. 

“You know, you have so much going on in your head,” Patrick points his finger into Art’s face, any humor in his voice long gone. 

“That you let it rule your whole life. Well, I’m done letting you infect me with it. I won’t let you turn me into a pathetic coward too.”

Art slams the hotel room door so hard that a couple from across the hallway creaks their door open, asking if Patrick is okay. He doesn’t answer.

[fortheloveofarchons]

Leon and Krauser encounters some... interesting plants

C.W. Plant monster, plant fucking, plant sex, plant tentacles, rape/non con, overstimulation, mind break, prostate milking, lactation kink, nipple licking, breeding, wet and messy, aphrodisiac, aftercare This chapter is kind of a Krauser x Leon ship (I say 'kind of' because they only talk a bit with some sexual tension)

.

.

.

“Let– Let go of me!” 

It was supposed to be a simple mission for Leon S. Kennedy. 

Yet, such a simple one could go so wrong for him. 

His simple job: Taking care of a mutated plant in Mixcóatl, one where it is situated within the Amazon rainforest. While Operation Javier is still in the works, these small requests needed to be taken care of in order to commence the mission. 

To Leon, the mission felt like a breeze before he could even get it started, with Jack Krauser, aka Silverdax by his side, who is an experienced USSOCOM soldier. 

While the duo were tracking down in the depths of the Amazon rainforest, they finally found what they were looking for to exterminate. 

“What the fuck…” 

The muscle in Leon’s jaw tenses as he stares at the surreal sight before him. In front of them is a colossal plant with sinuous tentacle-like appendages that stretch towards the sky. Leon grabs the knife that's strapped to his thigh, holding it up in an offence pose. 

Next to him, Jack Krauser couldn’t help but admire the immense moving plant in awe, his lips pinch together in a hard line. The gears on his mind are already moving, thinking about how much potential the virus could benefit those who could control them, to mutate and evolve on the hosts’ own will. Each slimy vines undulates with a rhythmic motion, as if they are orchestrating a mesmerising dance. 

As Leon observes the colossal plant, he notices that the plant’s base was a tangle of thick, intertwined vines that anchored it firmly to the ground. The verdant leaves would adorn the tentacles, making it easier to camouflage deep in the rainforest. Giant petals unfurled and retracted into some sort of a rhythmic pattern, and the air around it was filled with a sweet fragrance, something that made his body titillate. 

While Krauser remains rooted to the spot, being caught in a mix of awe and trepidation of the giant, moving plant, Leon strikes it up first. 

Being armed and ready for this fight, he tightens his grip on his knife, determined etched across his face. The air was charged with an eerie energy, and the giant plant's sinuous limbs rustled with an unsettling life of their own.

As Leon runs towards the plant, the vines sprang to life with unexpected agility, rustling the trees within the area, and breaking apart the ground bit by bit. While Leon dodged its attacks and managed to slice up some of the vines, eventually breaking its offences, more and more tendrils surged forward from the cracked ground. As one of them manages to leave a small scar on Leon’s cheek, he could feel a tingly burn from it. With that one second of distraction, one of the vines sprays some unknown liquid on his body. 

Astounded, Leon ignores it and moves on, but his body immediately falls to the ground, his face touching the soil. With a heave, Leon grips his chest, feeling a strange sensation flooding his body and mind. 

Caught off guard, Leon could feel an instant restriction of movement as the plant’s tendrils tightened around his legs and arms, rendering him partially immobile. Leon tries to move, panic and frustration flickered in his eyes, attempting to break free by cutting the vines off with his knife. Unfortunately, a vine surges forward with speed and immediately knocks off Leon’s wrist, making the knife fall to the ground, his weapon out of reach.

The plant's movements were methodical, as if it had anticipated Leon’s offensive and had cleverly thwarted his intentions. 

“Hey! Help me out here, won’t you?!” Leon yells, still thrashing and struggling from the vines. Meanwhile, Krauser could only stare at this one particular vine, one that slowly wraps his arm. Not too rough nor too gentle, almost like the plant was trying to communicate with him. 

After a while, Krauser turns to Leon, an icy stare boring into him...

[narcolini]

caught out

frank castle x gn!reader, 1164 words

warnings for canon typical behaviours, reader’s one of the bad guys basically

for day 29 of whumpril: surrender & ‘final warning’

a/n: honestly i was almost tempted to make this into an oc fic becaue id made the reader character so fun and specific buuut i dont have the time or facilities to right now BUT maybe i will return to the idea in the future 👀 ps. love you madani im so sorry sweetie

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting @hausofmamadas​ 

You’ve got a sight on her. Quite literally, your sight is lined up with the back of her head. Through the window she’s dumb enough to leave open after dark, curtains pinned back by the sides still. You adjust your grip. Your hands on the sniper, the rifle’s belly on the ledge, your knee in the gravel covering the roof-top. It’s a perfect shot from the perfect position. Better than you’ve ever had, and ever will again, really. Not by fucking luck, but patience, of course. Sheer fucking will.

You take a moment to check the sound again, turning up the volume of the radio pack attached to your waist. It crackles to life into your ear piece. Still watching television, Madani? A movie by the sounds of it—action, with a loud soundtrack, and louder gunshots. She’s still alone, still fixing her eyes to the phone in her hand. There’s no reason to wait. Distracted, unaccompanied, clueless. It’s all set up, just how you intended.

You stretch your trigger finger out, then put it back into place. Take a breath, exhale—completely. Hold.

‘Put it down.’

You freeze, because what the fuck else can you do, when there’s a gun set to curve of your skull, and a cold voice from behind you? There shouldn’t be anyone else up here, wasn’t, until now. And you hadn’t heard him approach, because of the fuzzing movie in your head.

You know who it is, of course, because it’s always Frank lately. If not for you, then for anyone else you talk to. He’s quicker than the cops nowadays. Has fucked up more plans and schemes, and just-fucking-revenge than anyone on Madani’s team.

He reaches around to tug the ear piece free of your ear, tossing it to the ground. ‘You didn’t hear me?’

‘I was on the phone,’ you lie, putting no effort at all into making it convincing. You’re leaning away from the sight now, looking at Madani’s apartment with just your own eyes, and watching her move from the couch, away from the window. He’s made you lose your chance. Stolen the moment from under you. You sigh. ‘You messed up my shot, dude.’

He doesn’t laugh—because of course not. Too serious for his own good. He already has you, he may as well take a load off.

‘Try wearing black next time,’ he comments, dryer than you were.

‘You mean camo doesn’t work in urban environments?’ You try to look back at him, just for the nose of his pistol to push your head forward again. Chin almost into your chest. Fucking ow, he could break the skin doing that. ‘Thought we had the same goal, Castle,’ you say, altering your angle. ‘I do this, and you got one less bloodhound on your trail.’

They’ve got him in the news now. Face on every TV screen. With Madani dead, it’d be a Hell of an easier job for him to do the same. Fake death, new life, start all over. He should be begging you, honestly. Should be lining your rifle back up and giving you a countdown.

‘Final warning.’ The gravel crunches as he stresses it, bringing himself closer. ‘Hands up.’

For a moment, you consider testing him. How final is final, after all? Boot to your shoulder, rifle forced to the floor, final? Or you over the edge of the fucking building, a pancake on the ground below, before you’ve even had chance to fight back, final?

‘Alright.’ You straighten, lifting both palms to the air by your head, so the gun swings loose on its strap. Over your shoulder like a birthday sash. ‘No killing today.’

He grabs you before you can even finish your laugh. Turns you roughly, violently, until you’re on your ass, back to the short wall between you and the sidewalk, ten stories beneath. He’s knelt like you were now, in your spot, with his fist twisting in the material of your collar. Knuckles to the bone, face inches from yours. Jesus, you pant a laugh, you’ve already conceded. There’s no need for all this. If he wants to make-out, he should’ve just said so.  

‘Y’know,’ you say, smiling through the ache in your back, and the pressure he’s applying to your chest, ‘I think we’d make a great team. If we worked together.’

‘I work alone.’

‘Eh, but that’s not true, is it, Frank?’

His eyes squint a fraction, then flick away from you. Then he’s talking over your shoulder like you aren’t even there. ‘Yeah, well, you’d be the last name on my list if I needed help.’

‘But I make the list?’ You suck a breath through your teeth. ‘Damn, I’m better than I thought.’

He pushes against you again, gaze coming back to yours. Fun’s over. You can see it in his face. You’re one sarcastic comment away from a bloody nose, a black eye. ‘What’s your deal with Madani?’ he asks. Right to the point.

You wind your head to the side. ‘That’s classified, I’m afraid.’ And it doesn’t matter in the slightest. Your vendettas are no less worthy than his own. ‘You wanna fight for it? Loser tells all their secrets?’

His fist turns another fraction, the cotton around your throat tightens.

‘Sure,’ you pant, ‘choke me out. But you gotta stick around til I wake up again.’ You paint a smile onto your lips that you know, you know, pisses him off, just for fun of it. ‘I don’t wanna miss saying goodbye.’

You watch the cogs turn, slow behind his eyes. He’s debating it, that’s for certain. Make you pass out, or bring you with him. Hell, maybe going other the edge is still an option, you should never assume death is out of the question for him.

Eventually, after thirty—two minute long—seconds, he grunts, pulling you up as he stands. No free-fall sky diving for you today. He’s dragging you back with him toward the rooftop’s exit, feet stumbling after his own. You’re trying to stay parallel with him, or even walk ahead to gain some advantage, but you can’t fucking get your feet straight under yourself. Boots catching, rifle nose bouncing by your knees. He may as well have knocked you out. It’d be smoother for him to drag you by the heel, than continue like this.

‘You don’t wanna talk?’ he says. ‘Fine, I got time.’

‘You gonna torture it out of me, Frank?’ He hasn’t hit you yet, he’s barely even grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark that’ll last. ‘Somehow I don’t believe you.’

‘Yeah,’ he breathes a laugh, ‘that’ll change.’

And is it wrong to say you’re excited, just a bit, in a weird, fucked up kind of way? That you hope he’s actually right? That his threats become real and he forces the answers out of you, somehow. That you get to see the Punisher, finally, in all his bloodied glory.  

[robogirlwomb]

The Rise of the Jellyslime

CW: Transformation, corruption, hypnosis, personality alteration, weight gain, merging, pregnancy, oviposition, lots and lots of goop

(Ao3 link if you prefer it!)

The Jellyslime came from the stars.

From some far-off alien planet, it and so many others of its kind were sent, out into a thousand directions into the stars.

Their mission: to love.

To spread their love, for each other and for all beings, across the universe, and to show all beings they encountered just how beautiful they could be.

Such was the mission of the Jellyslime that oozed from the softball-sized goop egg that landed on Earth. A small, gloopy thing, about the size and shape of a sea slug, carefully oozing along a branch in the tree its egg had landed in and stuck in, just before it hatched into the world.

The Jellyslime was so excited! Here, it could do what its species did best, loved doing best: find a Host and help them become beautiful!

As it reached the end of the branch, it looked around, despite not having any eyes or even a face to speak of. Alien biology is weird.

Below it was a human park, nestled in an average human city. Green grass spread in every direction, and a concrete sidewalk just happened to lead right under its branch.

Perfect!

The Jellyslime settled in on its branch, and waited for its Host to arrive.

~/~/~

Katherine panted gently as she jogged, her running shoes scuffing softly against the pavement beneath her.

A cool breeze blew through the park, rustling the grass the trees with the promise of autumn.

Katherine’s muscles rippled under her crop top, coated in a sheen of sweat from her run. Katherine considered herself something of a fitness nut. She was a frequent customer of her local gym, and had worked hard to tone her body’s muscle mass. She was very proud of the work she’d put into it.

Her watch beeped at her side, and she came to a stop under a low-hanging tree, panting for breath.

Completely unaware of how much her life was about to change, Katherine leaned forward, catching her breath, before unclicking her water bottle from her strap on her thigh.

It was as she was leaned forward, unstrapping her water bottle, that she felt something land on the back of her neck with a squelch.

Katherine jumped, the water bottle falling to the ground, forgotten. She quickly reached for the back of her neck, thinking it must be a wet plastic bag or something-

Only for her fingers to slide right off of the thing.

“What the fuck-“

Katherine turned her head, craning to look at her shoulder, just in time to see a purplish-green slug, more slime than anything, ooze onto her shoulder.

Katherine stared at the faceless thing. “Uh. Hi?”

The Jellyslime stared at her for just a second longer, before leaping directly into her ear canal.

Adrenaline flooded Katherine’s system as she grabbed for the slippery Goop-Thing. There was no way she was letting some alien… thing eat her brains.

This is bad. This is bad.

Katherine’s fingers scrabbled at the tail end of the Goop-Thing protruding from her ear, trying to find purchase, just enough to yank it back out, but it was like trying to grab a hunk of jello.

With a final SCHLORP, the Jellyslime slid down Katherine’s ear canal, leaving only a sticky fruit-smelling green residue behind.

Katherine’s heart plunged into her stomach as she truly began to panic now. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she began to breathe heavily. What was gonna happen to her? What was this thing gonna do to her brain?!

As the Jellyslime slid down Katherine’s ear toward her brain, it began to pick up on the signals from its new host… and it was… scared?

Oh no. Oh no! Why was Host frightened? Had Jellyslime done something wrong? Jellyslime had never actually been in a sapient being before, so it was new to this. But why was Host fighting back so much? This was horrible, Jellyslime didn’t want its host to be scared!

Oh goodness! Host, it’s okay! Please don’t be scared! Please, please, I love you! I’ll make you so beautiful!

As the Jellyslime fretted in Katherine’s braincase, it began to exude a new substance, one that slowly seeped into the cracks and pores of Katherine’s brain, soaking in, enacting its changes on the martial artist.

Katherine felt a sudden wave of calm wash over her, like everything was gonna be okay. She realized she felt fine.

More than fine, actually. She felt…really good. Katherine giggled dumbly as she stumbled against the tree trunk, the world spinning around her. She was dimly aware that she felt very, very drunk.

Jellyslime would have breathed a sigh of relief if it had a mouth or lungs.

Thank the stars. Thank you, Host. I love you. Thank you for trusting me. I love you.

Katherine giggled even further as she slowly slumped down the trunk. “Everythingsh… getting’ weeeiiiiiird…” Her tongue felt heavy. A line of drool dripped down her chin. More than drunk, Katherine now felt absolutely schnockered, like she had just gone on a very long, very fun booze trip.

Now, don’t you worry, Host! I’m gonna take us somewhere nice and private, and we’re gonna get started! By the time I’m done, you’ll be so, so, so beautiful!

Katherine couldn’t help but give out another giggle as she felt herself rise to her feet and begin to walk towards her apartment building, on the edge of the park. “Soundsh… gooooood…”

Once they were inside, Jellyslime carefully maneuvered Host up the stairs, where it knew Host could have some privacy somewhere comfortable and familiar. Despite the cold, rickety steel restraints shown in a lot of Human media, comfort was the real key to brainwashing and mindmelting.

Allowing the apartment’s front door to snap closed behind them, Jellyslime pointed Host through the living room and down the hall toward Katherine’s bedroom. Katherine kept giggling as she was steered down the hallway. It felt like she was on a roller coaster, staggering this way and that.

Jellyslime felt Host’s giggles, and was proud. Host is so happy and excited! We’re gonna have so much fun together!

Katherine giggled as she plopped backward onto her bed. She could feel that her panties were soaked through with her own arousal. What’s more, she could feel two slowly-growing damp patches on the front of her shirt. But that couldn’t be right, she couldn’t lactate… could she? It was hard to remember little details like that.

Go ahead and strip those yucky clothes off of you, Host! They’ll just get in the way of how beautiful you’re gonna become!

Still giggling dumbly, Katherine slowly shucked off her clothes. Her shoes fell to the floor, followed by her tight jogging pants, her crop top, and her underwear.

From each nipple and her crotch, Katherine was already producing a thin, watery purplish-green substance. The room smelled strongly of fruity candy, a smell that made Katherine’s head spin even more as the alien mutagens worked their magic on Katherine’s very molecular structure.

Now, just sit tight and let yourself feel good, Host! I’m gonna take charge for a while!

“Kay…” Katherine mumbled with a smile, one hand creeping downward toward her nethers, the other toward one breast.

~/~/~

Hours Later…

Katherine giggled as she slipped two fingers in and out of her soft, goopy twat. “Goop, goop, goop, goop…” She mumbled to herself, singsong. Her brain was awash in a sea of soporific chemicals and endorphins, slowly enslaving her further and further to the sensations she was feeling now.

Jellyslime looked over its Host with pride. Host was so happy and Beautiful now!

Her breasts had swollen, hanging low from their slime-induced output. Thick, creamy milk flowed freely from her puffy nipples, trickling down, dripping over the carpet.

Her carefully worked-for muscles were long gone. Her tummy had ballooned outward, a large, soft cushion of blubber and fat forming as Jellyslime had worked its magic on her body. Katherine trailed her fingertips over the plush of her jiggling stomach, cooing softly at how good it felt to be this fat. A thin trail of rainbow-colored goop slowly leaked from her belly button, oozing downward toward her pussy. She thrust one finger in and out of her belly button, giggling and moaning all the way.

Her jellycock, so hard and stiff it was almost painful, jabbed at the underside of her soft tummy. Moving her hand from her belly button, Katherine wrapped her fingers around her jellycock, thrusting her shaft wildly as she fingered her goopy pussy.

Below her, Katherine’s ass had also swollen, becoming bigger, jigglier. A slow trickle of fruity rainbow slime from her butthole added to the slowly growing puddle on the floor.

“I’m-m-m-m… so… beautiful…” Katherine moaned. She had never felt so good in her entire life.

Jellyslime was so proud of host. Yes, Host! You are! We are!

Katherine moaned loud and long as she came. Thick, goopy, multicolored cum spurted on her bottom of her stomach, sticky and warm against her overhang. The feeling almost made Katherine cum again.

She hummed to herself softly, allowing herself to fall backward onto her newly generous ass, sinking to lie on her back. She absently ran her fingers through her hair, her bare feet squelching in the slimy carpet, further coating her.

“Goop… goop… goop… goop…” Katherine grabbed a handful of sweet, sweet fruity goop in her hand, allowing it to trickle into her mouth and down her throat, staining her newly round, chubby cheeks. “Yummy, yummy goop.”

Aww, is Host hungry? You know what to do!

Katherine nodded happily, her eyes glazed and dull. She reached toward her chest, grabbing a handful of titflesh with one grasping hand. She dreamily guided it to her own mouth, moaning softly around her own nipple as she wrapped her lips around it.

The sudden gush of delicious creamy jiggly soft warm milk made her eyes roll back in her head, her brain and tummy suddenly tingling anew. With every suck, Katherine felt like she was floating, flying, a big fat dumb goopy cloud.

Katherine’s rewired body began rapidly digesting and processing the milk she was feeding from her breasts to her stomach, quickly metabolizing into additional added blubber. Through half-lidded eyes, Katherine could see her tummy and her tits slowly growing larger, fat deposits forming and deepening in her arms and legs. Beyond her view, blocked by her belly, she could feel her nuts growing fatter, rounder. Her jellycock oozed outward a little more, dripping strawberry-flavored pre onto the floor.

Katherine dimly realized that she had never been this happy in her entire life.

You’re doing so good, Host! I’m so proud of you!

Katherine smiled dumbly as the voice inside her head praised her so, her tummy filling with butterflies at the kind, loving words. Her nipple slid from her mouth with a loud Pop! as the suction was broken. “Thank you… Jellyslime… you made me… so… beautiful…” Katherine’s red-colored eyes seemed to shimmer as she spoke. Fat, lime-flavored tears of joy trickled from the corners of her mouth as she lay there. Both hands slowly caressed the sides of her massive tummy, Katherine’s brain floating in chemical bliss. “Goop… goop… gooooooop…”

Now comes the fun part, Host!

More fun than this?

Now… we get to Spread.

The voice seemed to shiver an anticipation at that word.

“Spread?”

Yeah! We get to Spread, to show other members of this planet how good it feels to be part of the Jelly!

Katherine could hardly believe what she was hearing. “We… I get… I get to make my friends feel this good too?”

Mm-hmmm! Everyone you love! They all get to be a part of the Jelly now! They get to feel good forever and ever, and never have to be hurt ever again!

Katherine’s Jelly-coated brain jiggled with glee at the idea. Her pussy twitched in a spike of pleasure. “I’m ready. How do we start?”

I saw your cellular communication device. Call someone, anyone! And don’t worry about scaring them off, I’ll take over regulating your brain function and speech center so you don’t have to worry about them hearing something weird or getting suspicious!

Katherine’s hand was already groping for her phone before she realized she was doing it. She unlocked the screen, leaving a smear of goop behind her moving finger. As she tapped through to her contacts, her knees bent upwards, spreading her fat legs outwards. Her massive jellycock waved in the air like a cobra, bending downward, brushing softly over the entrance to Katherine’s pussy. Katherine shuddered in anticipation, her thumb tapping the call button.

Katherine’s jellycock slowly, gently plunged into her goopy pussy, the pleasure making her eyes roll back in her head and her toes curl as a familiar voice on the other end of the phone said “Hello?”

Katherine’s body was wracked with an enormous orgasm as her mouth calmly said “Hey, Emily. Am I interrupting anything?”

“Oh, hey, Katherine! Not really, I’m just finishing up studying for an exam tomorrow. What’s up?”

The jellycock continued to pump in and out, slithering as deep into Katherine’s body as it could before sliding smoothly back out. Katherine’s red-colored eyes leaked uncontrollable tears of pleasure and joy, a massive, toothy grin on her face.

“Nothin’ much, just wanted to see if you wanted to come over and hang out a while. It’s been a bit, felt like catchin’ up.”

“Yeah, sure!” Emily’s voice was bright and cheery on the other end, blissfully unaware of the alien railing her friend was receiving as she spoke. “Gimme a bit to finish this up and I’ll head your way. About an hour okay?”

Katherine nodded, her multiple chins jiggling. “Sounds great! See you then.” A gigantic pressure was building in her jellycock, so much bigger and greater than any of the loads she had shot with it throughout the day. That all-consuming wave of pleasure was slowly rising, building within her pussy.

“See you then, Katherine. Bye.”

“Bye-bye.”

The phone line clicked as the call dropped, and Katherine shrieked in pleasure as she ejaculated into herself. Her fingers slid over the slick carpet, grasping for purchase, finding none.

Katherine felt something inside of her jellycock, something large, rising along, carrying on the stream of jellycum. It felt so, so good, like a slow-motion orgasm, getting closer and closer and…

The small, squishy alien egg popped from the tip of Katherine’s jellycock, burying itself in her pussy. Katherine made an incomprehensible sound, gurgling low, as another egg slid into her womb, then another, and another, and another, until Katherine stopped counting and simply rode this new, strange tidal wave of impregnating herself.

Eventually, the pleasure slowly, agonizingly, faded. Katherine slumped out spread-eagled on the floor, as her jellycock slid from her pussy, spitting out one last golf-ball sized goop egg on the floor.

Katherine couldn’t think, and thus didn’t, as she lay there, awash in pleasure. “Goop… goop… goop… goop… goop…”

~/~/~

The door clicked as Emily slid the copy of Katherine’s key into the lock. Katherine had given her permission to use it anytime long ago, and she was used to Emily entering without knocking.

Emily paused in the entrance, one foot in Katherine’s kitchen. Something seemed… off.

“Katherine?” She called into the apartment.

There was a long pause.

Then, from beyond the living room:

“Back here!”

Emily blinked, before shaking the odd feeling off. She allowed the door to click closed behind her, before inhaling deeply through her nose. Something smelled delicious. Like fruit tarts, or jam, or candy, or even all of them mixed together.

Emily entered the living room. That smell was even stronger here, almost cloyingly so.

“Emily, come on back to my room! I have something to show you.”

“Yeah…” Emily mumbled, feeling an odd buzzing in her head as she inhaled that wonderful scent again.

The hall carpet was soaked. Thick and mushy, with some strange goop that smelled like a mix of gummy candies and sex. It squelched under Emily’s shoes as she slowly stepped down the hallway.

She was dimly aware she should find something wrong with all of this… but with how light her head felt, it was hard to tell what.

Emily rounded the corner, into the open doorway of Katherine’s bedroom… and stopped there.

There sat Katherine, on the floor, looking almost 300 pounds heavier. She was completely naked, every part of her on display. Her skin had taken on a light sheen, like a gusher or a Fruit Roll-Up. A slowly growing puddle of what looked like jello slowly spread from her exposed genitals, both pussy and cock slowly leaking the stuff.

Katherine smiled warmly. “Hi, Emily.”

Emily wavered on her feet, her head swimming with pheromones. A scent like fruity jello permeated the air. Something… wasn’t right… but… she couldn’t place it… “Katherine … I don’t… what’s…”

Katherine raised her chubby arms to welcome Emily toward her. “Shhhh, don’t worry about it, Emily. Just… let it take you. Let go.”

Emily nodded, kneeling down to sit in Katherine’s ample lap. “Mmmmm… mkay… sounds good…” she whispered dreamily.

Katherine gently cupped Emily’s cheeks, guiding her closer, before leaning forward, to let their lips meet.

The instant the kiss made contact, Emily was lost. That strange, fruity, otherworldly flavor hung heavy on her lips. Emily licked her own lips, swaying gently. “Mmmm… more please…” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Katherine’s shoulders, kissing Katherine as hard as she could. Her tongue leapt to meet Katherine’s in the middle, eagerly searching for more of that impossible flavor.

Katherine moaned, hugging Emily close to her body. Emily trembled through the kiss, feeling how soft and warm Katherine’s body was. “Katherine … please… need more…”

She wants us, Host! She wants to join us and be beautiful!

Katherine pushed Emily back gently, Emily sighing dreamily as she swayed backward. Katherine smiled. “Take your clothes off, Emily.

The whites of her eyes already turning a light green as the jelly soaked into her very being, Emily nodded with a happy smile. She hooked the straps of her overall-dress under the thumbs, sliding it off of her torso. Her sweater quickly followed suit, leaving her in her bra, panties, and stockings. She fumbled with her bra for just a moment, before that too fell to the goop-covered floor, letting Emily’s tits hang freely.

Katherine rubbed the circumference of her belly with one hand, tweaking her own nipple with her other. “Come here, Emily, you sweet, sweet thing…” Katherine giggled dumbly as the Jellyslime released a new load of endorphins in her brain, rewiring more neural pathways for what was to come. Katherine’s jellycock throbbed and writhed of its own volition, the purple tendril eager and waiting.

Emily crawled forward on hands and knees, moaning softly with anticipation and need. Reaching her former fiancée, Emily placed a soft, gentle kiss on the top of Katherine’s tummy, before slowly working her way downward, placing more and more butterfly kisses against the warm flesh. Katherine giggled, cooing softly at Emily’s ministrations.

Emily could barely restrain herself from simply burying her face in Katherine’s warm, massive navel and staying there, instead contenting herself with lapping up the thick stream of red-colored goop that oozed from it. Her tongue lit up with the delightful taste of raspberries, and she wiggled in delight. Her eyes sank to a deeper, richer shade of green as the alien jelly she had taken into herself began to coalesce and merge inside of her, already beginning to rewrite her genetic code, changing her body to suit the Jelly’s needs.

Katherine felt Emily’s breath on her massive jellycock, and shuddered in anticipatory delight. Emily, for her part, registered on an increasingly-dim level that there should be something weird about Katherine having suddenly put on hundreds of pounds of weight, and having a prehensile purple slime-dick that smelled of fruit gummies and was as long as Emily’s forearm… but then again, it was getting harder and harder for Emily’s brain to process words longer than 2 or 3 syllables, so it quickly faded from view.

Emily’s brain was alight, begging her, begging her to take Katherine’s length into her mouth, that it was the only thing in the world… and so she did.

With one last kiss upon the tip, Emily slid her mouth over Katherine’s jellycock, taking as much of it into her mouth as she could. Her eyes widened at the sudden hurricane of delicious flavors that assaulted her taste buds. She wanted more! She needed more! Her tongue slid over and around the goopy length, relishing every second. Her mouth quickly filled with sweet, juice-flavored pre, and she swallowed, continuing to suck down as much as she could.

Katherine shuddered, moaning loudly as Emily sucked, almost seeming to nurse from Katherine’s jellycock. Her feet kicked in the jelly coating the floor, her red eyes rolling back into her head from the pleasure.

“Emily … oh god… take it… Emily, I love you…”

Emily’s heart suddenly surged in her chest at those words! Katherine loved her! This wonderful, enormous, Rubenesque beauty whose cock her lips were wrapped around loved her!

Emily’s hand began to pump Katherine’s length, stroking it, caressing it, gently fondling her baseball-sized nuts. Emily’s other hand slipped downward, sliding past her panties to diddle her own pussy, feeling her knees shake in pleasure.

Katherine began to buck where she sat, which didn’t make much of a difference with all of her added blubber. Instead, her jellycock began to thrust into Emily’s mouth, curling and straightening, sliding deeper and deeper into Emily’s throat, the jelly numbing and sliding around her uvula, never touching her gag reflex.

With a loud moan, Katherine threw her head back as she came, more jellycum sliding up and spurting from her cocktip. It spurted into the back of Emily’s mouth like water from a hose, sliding directly down her throat and into her stomach as excess flowed back upward, filling Emily’s mouth with fruity flavors.

Emily moaned around Katherine’s jellycock, feeling the massive, heavy load land in her stomach, slowly filling her. She swallowed as much as she could, even as the excess kept coming, until it flowed from her mouth, green jelly oozing from each corner, trickling thickly down her chin and her neck, dripping onto her breasts.

As the jellycum landed in her stomach, it began working its strange alien magic on her body. A comfortable plush began to form around her stomach and midsection, her arms and thighs beginning to widen, ever so slightly. Emily stayed where she was, dazed, her mouth still around Katherine’s jellycock.

With a smile as she came back to her senses, Katherine reached forward, poking Emily’s forehead mischievously with one finger. Emily blinked at her touch, before sliding backward, Katherine’s jellycock sliding out of her mouth, already getting hard again.

Seeing this, Emily’s eyes widened in delight. She quickly slid her panties off, paying no mind to the increasing size of her thighs. She clambered to her feet, her stockings squelching in the goop, before standing astride over Katherine’s chubby form. Katherine grinned, her jellycock wiggling upward, to gently brush over Emily’s nethers. With a shudder and a grin, Emily bent her knees, allowing the jellycock to slide into her. She moaned loudly, as she slid down, down, down, the jellycock going deeper and deeper inside of her, until she straddled Katherine’s generous midsection, staring up at the ceiling but not seeing anything, shaking and moaning.

Smiling, Katherine made herself comfortable as her jellycock began to fuck Emily. Emily bounced up and down automatically, jiggling Katherine’s slowly-growing fat as she took the jellycock into her. With a languid smile, Katherine traced one chubby hand over Emily’s still-slim stomach, before tracing up, circling Emily’s areola as the tomboy moaned.

Emily couldn’t know it, but her brain was being rewired by the goop she had ingested. Certain thoughts were being suppressed, filed away, while others were inserted by the goop, made more and more prominent.

Thoughts of fucking, and sucking, and serving, and spreading, and breeding, and laying.

A familiar feeling began to push its way up Katherine’s jellycock, the dozens of delicious eggs cultivating in Katherine’s womb seeming to cry out with the two of them as more eggs began to push themselves out, up, into Emily’s eager and willing womb.

Emily’s form began to widen, fatten as more and more alien seed pushed into her body. Her breasts began to inflate, her ass softening as it expanded.

As the two of them finished cumming, Emily fell onto her back, her limbs spread in every direction. Her newly-fattened tummy shook softly on top of her, left to right. Jellycum oozed from her fat pussy, joining the mass on the floor. She twitched softly as the micro-orgasms slowly tapered off.

Katherine smiled at her old fiancée, at the slowly growing corpulence on her body. She would soon grow as big as Katherine was now. All they had to do was wait.

Katherine slowly hauled herself to her feet, standing, looking down at Emily with a smile. Katherine was massive, her breasts each the size of a fully-grown watermelon. Her gut, speckled with new stretch marks and cellulite, hung downward, the end of her jellycock hanging low behind it. She had also gained a few inches to her height, the alien goop slowly coating and cushioning her growing spine.

Something tickled as it squirmed within Katherine. The jellyeggs were getting ready. Soon it would be time to lay them.

“Good job, Emily. You did so good. You’re gonna make such a great mommy to those eggs.”

Emily nodded, staring up at Katherine with an almost religious worship and awe in her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face as she said “Thank you, Jellymama.”

Katherine blinked at the word. “Jellymama?”

The voice inside Katherine’s head spoke up from the Jellyslime’s spot, curled around and soaking into Katherine’s brain more and more.

Yep! You get to be the Jellymama for this planet! That’s such an honor!

Something, some last vestige of who Katherine used to be, buried deep within her goop-covered brain, spoke up one last time. No! This isn’t me! I don’t want to be a…

The thought died as quickly as it came, silenced under a torrent of goop.

Katherine smiled, her red eyes shimmering as she slid a handful of goop from her belly button back into her mouth.

“Jellymama. I’m this planet’s Jellymama.”

And with that admission, that final surrender to the Jelly, Katherine dropped to her hands and knees as she felt her pussy quiver, the clutch of goop-eggs deep inside her beginning to shake.

It was time. Katherine’s tongue slid from her mouth, her red eyes rolling back in her head as the pleasure grew, as her brain was consumed with thoughts of laying, and breeding, and laying, and breed lay breed lay breed lay breed LAY-

With a moan from her mouth and a splash from her twat, a torrent of jelly eggs began to fall from Katherine’s pussy, sliding out on a torrent of jellycum. One by one, they fell out and downward, sticking together, the jellycum congealing and hardening quickly around them even as more and more came sliding out.

Emily watched in fascination as Katherine, the Jellymama, rocked back and forth on her hands and knees, as more and more small eggs slid out, a dozen, two dozen, three.

As the torrent of blissful eggs came to an end, Katherine sighed shakily. She pushed herself backward, onto the soft cushion of her ass. Her nipples and belly button leaked a constant stream of milk and goop now. Katherine sighed in relief, tweaking one nipple as she gazed at Emily. “Come here, Emily. You need some of this too. Need to be able to feed the babies, after all.”

Emily crawled forward on her hands and knees, her breasts and pregnant belly hanging below her. Her eyes were deep green, and shimmering along with Katherine’s. She reached her Jellymama, crawling up into Katherine’s enormous lap, before reaching up to one massive breast almost as big as she was, and taking the gigantic nipple into her mouth.

Emily began to suckle, feeling her brain go fuzzy and soft as the alien milk gently flowed into her. A feeling of warmth and safety overtook her as she slid into a quiet milk dream, of breasts and blankets and warm, jiggly mother’s milk. She nestled closer to the big, soft cushion of Jellymama’s goop-filled tummy, the warmth radiating from it filling her with an even more soothing sense of calm.

Jellymama smiled drunkenly, stroking Emily’s hair with one hand and kneading her pregnant gut with the other as Emily nursed from her breasts. She whispered softly. “Goop… goop… goop…”

A delightful chill ran up Jellymama’s spine, and she giggled as she felt a familiar pressure in her ear canal. A cool, slimy sensation trickled around her earlobe as the Jellyslime eased itself out, stretching so it was still connected to Jellymama’s brain. Jellymama could still hear it speak to her.

Look at her, Host! She’s so beautiful!

Jellymama nodded, her heart swelling as she tenderly nudged Emily’s bangs from her forehead. “She is, isn’t she?”

Emily sighed contently around Jellymama’s nipple, unconsciously nuzzling closer as she suckled.

“She’s so…cute.”

Jellymama looked at the Jellyslime as it hung in the air in front of her face, suspended from her ear. “Thank you, Jellyslime. Thank you for… all of this.”

Of course! It’s my job to make you beautiful! And this is just the beginning! Once your eggies hatch, they’ll be able to help us make even more people beautiful! We have so many friends to Spread to!

Jellymama nodded, an eager smile spreading across her face. “Let’s let Emily sleep for a little while. She’s been so stressed for so long, she deserves this.”

Her life’s gonna be so much easier and simpler now.

Jellymama leaned forward, gently kissing the Jellyslime atop its little head. With a muffled giggle, it withdrew itself back into her brain case.

~/~/~

A few days later…

The apartment building quietly became closed off to the outside world.

Its residents were quickly finding themselves preoccupied by the newfound changes brought on by the surprise visitors that had slithered out of their vents in the night.

So many different, delightful, delicious changes.

~/~/~

Apartment 2A

Jade was fused to the wall by a mass of goop.

Their arms were pinned straight to the wall on either side of them, their face, breasts, and enormously swollen belly protruding from the goop.

Their newly chubby legs were spread wide, exposing their asshole to the jelly tentacle that was steadily thrusting in and out of their anus.

Their newly-grown jellycock leaked a slow stream of thick, sweet, blueberry-flavored cum.

They moaned gently around the penis-shaped mass in their mouth that was filling them with molten sweetness, their blue-tinted eyes rolling backward into their head in pleasure.

~/~/~

Apartment 3B

Veronica was on her hands and knees, sucking on her boyfriend’s jellycock.

One hand was between her legs, pumping her own jellycock that had grown in, leaking a delicious grape-flavored purple.

Her boyfriend Peter was sprawled backward, giggling an insensate stream as he thrust into his girlfriend’s goopy mouth, his own stomach swollen with so many lovely, delicious eggs.

The two of them, dazed and saturated in sweetness, were accelerating in their transformation in a different, exciting way. Their flesh, which had that same goopy sheen to it, seemed to be melting together where they touched, Veronica’s fingers sinking deeper and deeper into her jellycock, the pleasure organ melding with her limb as she pumped it back and forth.

Had she had the presence of mind to do so, she would have found it increasingly hard to remove Peter’s jellycock from her mouth.

With their combined love, the two were slowly becoming a singular entity, devoted entirely to its own self-sustaining pleasure.

~/~/~

Apartment 3E

Zoe’s head tilted backward, extra chins already growing as another Lesser Jellyslime squirmed its way down her throat. She moaned in a combination of satisfaction from the fruit candy flavor, and slowly mounting lust, as she scrabbled for her new dripping pussy with one fat hand, fumbling past her growing belly, before she dug three fingers deep into her snatch. She moaned greedily at the new sensations, her slowly goopifying hand slipping deeper and deeper inside.

Iris was on her back, thrusting her hips into the air as a Lesser Jellyslime crawled into her asshole. Her girlcock was rock-hard, even as the mutations caused it to shrink, smaller and smaller, until it at last inverted with a slow, rolling orgasm. Her toes curled, her tongue hung from her mouth as she moaned incomprehensibly, the Jelly mutations setting in as her skin gained a translucent hue, like a blueberry flavored Gummy. Her thighs and hips began to balloon outward.

Iris grasped for her girlfriend’s hand, and found it reaching back for her. The two slowly-growing slaves to the Jelly pulled each other closer, before pulling each other into a wet, goopy kiss. Their tongues swirled in the middle, moaning into each other’s mouths as more and more Lesser Jellyslimes slipped inside of them.

They gasped for breath in between kisses.

“Luh’ joo-“

“-love you too-“

“You’re gonna be… such a great… mother…”

Iris almost wept with joy at the thought. “We both are.”

~/~/~

“I’ve really missed you guys.”

The Jellymama smiled. “We’ve missed you too, Goro! You’re in town, right? Want to come by for a while? You can stay the night!”

“Sure, if you’ll have me!”

Katherine chuckled as she rocked back and forth on her knees, plunging her jellycock in and out of Emily’s ear, fucking her brain, drowning any remaining thoughts she may have had under an ocean of soporific jellycum.

Emily twitched, goop leaking from her ears and eyes as her brain was scrambled further by the Jellycock. The eggs she and Jellymama had laid days before had long hatched, tiny Jellyslimes crawling all over her, sliding in and out of her pussy and enlarged nipples. Emily’s body, modified by the Jelly to be optimal for breeding, shook and jiggled in pleasure as her babies crawled all over her, planting her with their gentle kisses, sliding up into her womb to curl up next to their unhatched siblings. Emily had already been stuffed full of her second clutch, her belly large and round.

“G-g-goop… goop… goop… goop…”

The Jellymama felt her pussy spasm just a little at the sight. Smiling softly, she turned her attention back to the phone call. “Of course, Goro! You know we love to have you over!”

“Great! I’ll be there soon!”

Jellymama laughed softly as she hung up the phone, tucking it into the Jelly beneath her massive, heavy breast. Her enormous belly shook as she moaned loudly, her jellycock spurting more jellycum into Emily’s ear.

Emily shook, babbling a few incomprehensible sounds as she slumped backward, a dumb, drunken grin on her face as she giggled happily, nothing left in her head but happy, happy goo.

Smiling with pride at her first subject, Jellymama reached down, gently stroking Emily’s enormous belly. Emily moaned in mindless pleasure, drooling a thin trickle of green down her growing chins. Her body, stomach, and breasts had continued growing as she became one with the goop, and she was rapidly on her way to becoming wider than she was tall.

Jellymama could sense the other converts in the building. Jade, Veronica and Peter, Iris and Zoe, and so many more. All of them were changing as the goop rewrote their bodies and minds, bringing them closer and closer together, turning more and more into silly Jelly fuckbeasts.

Jellymama smiled, sitting back down on her gigantic cushion of an ass to wait for Goro to arrive. If Emily had recovered enough by the time he arrived, maybe he could walk in to the sight of Jellymama fucking her brain again, or maybe to Emily laying her jellyeggs.

Maybe Jellymama would let the pheromones take him, make him so horny, turn him into an adoring slave to her body with a huge, goop-enhanced cock.

Or maybe she could stuff him bodily up into her big goopy twat, let the Jelly work its magic on him by just submerging him in it, turn him into a cute little goopling to ooze around and do as he was told.

Jellymama couldn’t wait.

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 8

Cw: mentions of violence, murder, sex, nudity, basically same old lol

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

Autumn 1920

Jack had involved Eva in his business before, but always at home where he could go on to claim it was his genius that led to his success and never his illegal ones.

“No. It wouldn’t benefit us for him to die so soon.” The witch comments after he, his right hand and Wild Bill of the White Hand Gang discuss the best way to deal with the Italians.

They had been offended by the woman sitting on his lap until she showed off her talents by making the glass in Bill Lovett's hand shatter with just her eyes.

She was his secret weapon and while the glass shattering would still have them doubt her ability, they knew better than to try and find out.

Good thing they had come home from his club. If they knew Jack allowed her to speak to him like this, they’d lose their fucking mind.

“Us?” the gangster asked, trailing his hand up her chest, caressing the soft tan skin and wrapping his hand around her neck knowing she cannot stand that. A small payback for when she called him Jackie as she goaded him into chasing her around wearing nothing but his shirt earlier.

He cannot back out of this like that, not after they threatened his family and his life a month ago. Things with Eva had improved, including her as an advisor in these things had given her a purpose beyond pretending to be the perfect American wife.

She had learned business from books, from her family and hired professors to teach her. Eva had also learned strategy during her time in the war, using her gifts to their advantage at every turn. A useful thing when it didn’t contradict him, like now.

No wonder the president and Pancho Villa had gotten tired of her, who wanted a girl telling them what to do. Jack already fights the rumors that he’s gone soft now that he’s a husband and a father.

“Changretta didn’t just come for you, he came for the both of us. If you want to win, you gotta let me play the game with you.” The witch answered masking the discomfort of having his hand on her throat with a sultry breathy tone before dropping it entirely. “Besides, the White Hand made its deal with you through Dinny Meehan not Lovett, Lovett knows you’re a threat to him and will sooner frame the Black Hand for your murder than let you run the Irish Mafia like you intend.”

The Irish of New York had posed less of a threat, choosing to ally with him than fight him. They’d agreed to join in on erasing the Black Hand out of the picture for a cut of the cake.

Especially after Sadie Meehan correctly guessed it was Bill Lovett who orchestrated Dinny’s hit and had him murdered right next to her in their own bed.

Jack would be lying if he didn’t fear his Evie suffering the same fate.

“Then what do you suggest, oh holy Pythia?” Jack didn’t trust Wild Bill nor his brother-in-law anymore as far as he could throw them and this plan to strike the Spinietta Family now that Luca’s back on American soil required a whole lot of trust.

“We wait. Solidify your gangs so when the blessed day happens you won’t even break a sweat or have to watch out for knives in your back.” She moved his hand off her neck and let it wander down the half-buttoned shirt, daring him to divest her of it entirely. Nakedness wasn’t something Eva ever felt bothered by.

Her beauty was as much as a weapon as that diamond encrusted knife she straps on her thigh.

“What did you see?” Jack’s fingers undo the first of the buttons, letting her think she’s won.

She uses sex to manipulate him, doesn’t take a genius to know it.

But he lets her, knows the witch does this to secure some power for herself. She has whatever power he gives her here, where she cannot wave her name or money around to exert her own.

Not yet anyways, the day will come when society will just have to bend its knees and realize how wrong they were to discount him.

Us, the witch’s voice seems to correct him even in his mind.

“Lovett’s getting killed by his brother-in-law in three years and Lonergan will lose the waterfront a year after that, Luca Changretta gets his brains blown out by the man Grace will kill Clive for and New York ripe for the taking that same year.” His wife leaned back on her hands and uncrossed her legs giving him an unobstructed view of herself as the shirt fell open. “I have seen all that and so much more, and if you want it to come true, you have to let me play.”

Jack snaked his arm around her waist as she slotted himself between her long legs cutting off any chances of her bolting when he reminds her what the agreed on.

She’s done it before, when he does something to displease the spoiled goddess she runs off leaving him to use his hand instead of her for release.

“You drive a good bargain, doll. But we agreed, my game my rules.” Not that he won’t take her sage advice, just incorporating it into the plan. “I will keep my plans and take your advice, I will give Changretta a reason to run back to his old man and meet his maker there. Don’t you worry about it, darling.”

March 1921

They’d lost but somehow come out on top.

There’d been some losses in the New York Mob, Luca and his men lived to see another day and yet Jack had gotten the Spinietta Family to call for a truce when he got the last Sabinis in New York to high tail it back to London.

Luca had been given the same treatment he gave Jack six years ago before Jack let him go.

Election night seems to reflect Jack and the White Hand’s offensive on the Spinietta Family.

The Republicans had won the presidency and the gubernatorial race, and yet these cocksuckers had their wives eating out of her hand.

The First Lady had been told about her clairvoyance and Calvin Coolidge had been so impressed about his future as the 30th president of the United States, that the Nelsons were becoming the must know couple in the state, if not the entire region of New England.

Everyone knew who she was, loved her so much they forgot she wasn’t a white woman and now hosts a ball for the man who thinks balls are too frivolous to have.

Jack doesn’t know why taking over society isn’t enough for her.

“Same reason you keep your gang even after no longer needing it, because it’s just not enough.” The witch whispered as they arrived at a charity ball she'd done to replace the President’s Inauguration Ball. “I am so much more than your damnably charming wife, Jack.”

As he remembers with great fondness how he made Luca beg for his life as he taught Eva how to wrap the garrote around his cock and balls, he cannot help but agree. “That you are, doll, that you are.”

The feeling of her silky hand in his as Luca held back his agony was something he’d never thought he’d enjoy so much.

Perhaps, it was a good idea to make her a fellow player in his games for power.

A/N: Dinny Meehan was the leader of the White Hang Gang, a group of Irish gangs in New York who cretaed themselves to fight of the Italian Mob, the Black Hand.

Luca and the black hand family he worked for are fictional so in this fic they take the place of the real gang.

Dinny Meehan was murdered in his home in 1920, his wife Sadie in 1923 told the fbi she believed his right hand Wild Bill Lovett had him murdered, Wild Bill in 1923 was then murdered by the Black Hand in a hit orchestrated by his brother in law Richard 'Pegleg' Lonegran. In 1925 teh White Hand lost their territory to the Black Hand.

Jack is looking into taking New York as he has secured the gangs of Boston just as Tommy sought out London after taking over Birmingham.

William Hardying was president from 1921 to 1923 when he died of a heart attack, he was a republican and succeeded by his vp, Calvin Coolidge who had been the governor of Massachusetts until 1921

[transingthoseformers]

Sometimes, pregnant people lose the ability to sing sometimes because of posture changes, swelling of the vocal cords, and reduced lung capacity.

Anyways, more Tarnmags family stuff:

Damus and Minimus' triplets are all girls. They're #girldads to the max. Imagine Minimus having a girl dad bumper sticker on his minesweeper alt modes. The yellow and green sparkling is named Tenor Ambus, the orange and white one is named Forte Ambus, and the youngest one, the minitank, is named Cadenza Ambus. In exchange for all of the children carrying on the House of Ambus, Damus got to decide all of their first names.

Many mechs around the office have the idea that Damus 'babytrapped' Minimus to make him stay in their marriage. Minimus isn't one to listen to much gossip, but when Damus finds out about this hurtful rumor, he feels very, very hurt. Minimus then decides the best way to fix this is to declare his love for Damus at every opportunity possible. This is Minimus though, so it's often rather awkward.

A lot of people are happy to hear that Minimus is expecting. They are happy that new life is coming to Cybertron...until they learn who his conjunx is. Damus is unpopular on both sides of the aisle because of his war crimes. Damus tries not to let the criticism get to him, but he still feels bad that he's saddled Minimus with all of his baggage. Minimus reassures him that everything is fine.

Damus wants the nursery painted in pink because pink is the most badass color as it is the color of energon, the lifeblood of the Cybertronian. Minimus wants it painted something calming like a nice light yellow. They fight about it, and Minimus wins. Damus gets a pink accent wall though.

Minimus hyperfixates on books about how to safely raise and care for a sparkling. His obsession with safety makes baby supply shopping very annoying. For example, Damus just wants to buy some cute, cuddly stuffed animals, but because they have hard, plastic eyes, Minimus deems them unsafe. That day, Damus develops a terrible migraine after shopping with his conjunx.

Spinister ends up being Damus' doctor because Spinister's the only mech on Cybertron with obstentrics certification. Spinister is eccentric, but so is Damus. They get along well. Minimus is not entirely sure of Spinister though.

Nickel's conjunx Roller makes Damus and Minimus a set of adorable knit baby hats. Damus cries so hard.

Damus names Forestock and Nickel as the triplets' god parents because Minimus is unable to name a mech he'd trust with his kids.

Minimus takes the kids to Earth when he meets up with Verity. Verity is very surprised to see Minimus with two little turbofox babies in a stroller and a big chunky minitank baby strapped to his chest. She goes nuts over those kids though. She's their favorite human auntie.

Ohhh ok that makes quite a lot of sense

omg no yes they are the ultimate girldads

Those are amazing names yes yes

I can see why they thought he babytrapped him (as if the marriage wasn't arranged)

oh Damus

Dssdd Mins yes yes that's hilarious as hell

I can see why a lot of mecha are still wary of Dams (even though in the tags of the fic this au is based on, Tarn is stated to be 40% as much fucked up as he is in canon, that's still quite an amount fucked up), even after this amount of time

On one hand Damus isn't wrong but also the yellow and pink room sounds like it looks pretty cool

Minimus will buy all the baby books and surf all the forums yes yes

Of course Spinster is the only mech with the correct certification, that feels like a story of its own

Would the Blacksmiths know anything about kindled sparklings, or do they only deal in protoforms from hot spots?

I can see why Minimus might be hesitant of Spinster because of Spinister.

Roller needs more attention in the fandom

Forestock and Nickel as the godparents is a good idea

Okay that had to be so trippy for Verity, so so so trippy.

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

ATC rewrite part 1 outline

The vote was 6-2 in favor of sharing, not counting my vote, so it's under a readmore for those who want to wait until I've finished the first chapter.

My outlines vary from story to story and they're usually quite odd, and take more of a condensed story format than a traditional outline with the bullet points and such. This truly is an outline. It reads like a story. I've embellished on parts that I currently have, glossed over the parts that I don't but know they need to be there.

For those who are new, or followed me from Flipping Legacies and never realized I wrote for other fandoms: Percy Jackson was my first fandom. I started All Together, Cousins in 2013, wrote about 80K words for it in two years, got burned out big time for Percy Jackson stuff. Technically speaking I updated it in 2018, but I'd completely lost the plot of it and relied on subplots and characters to keep it moving and it just. Wasn't fun. And around the time I started Flipping Legacies (in 2020) I'd also taken a look at ATC and kind of. Winced. You can tell a 15 year old wrote it. Happy ten year anniversary, old friend, the fic that haunts me in the night--I'm finally back.

I love the premise of it, but it's kind of like a 1940s house. The walls are cracking, the wiring needs to be updated, the plumbing needs to not be lead. It needs some work. A lot of work. And here's the start of it.

🗲

Thalia’s ten and Jason’s two when she snatches him out of Hera’s grasp, threatens a goddess with grievous bodily harm and bloody revenge schemes and runs like the proverbial bat out of hell. She tires quickly. It’s winter. They’re two Big Three demigods. Cops are not kind to homeless people, shelters are not kind to kids, and the system is even crueler.

Luke Castellan is a blessing, and she thanks Hermes every damn day for him. He’s great at getting out of tight spots, talented with a sword, gentle with her brother, and willing to fight her over what’s best.

He’s been on his own for three years now. He knows what he’s doing a lot better than Thalia does, in terms of actual survival. They bunk down in one of his old hiding spots and gear up and she’s so exhausted that she falls asleep almost immediately, Jason sprawled across her chest.

Never again. She’ll never again let Hera get that close. The sight of her brother in that woman’s arms will haunt her for the rest of her life.

She urges Luke to move faster, the next day, to get them farther away from the Wolf House, and they have a screaming match about I want to be as far away from this place as possible and Let’s not fucking pass out about it, that does nobody any good! and also What if she tries to take him again and Well they’re gods, it’s not like physical distance means anything to them.

Jason isn’t happy about the loud noise of a fourteen year old boy and a daughter of thunder going at it. That’s finally what gets them to shut up. Every demigod she’s ever met has backed down immediately after watching her zap her surroundings when she gets frustrated.

Luke has rubber soles, a steel spine, and a golden heart. How lucky is she, that he’s the full range of conductivity?

The positive and the ground, and together they can move mountains—or make sure that one little boy is safe and happy as is possible for a son of Jupiter.

🗲

Thalia’s twelve and Jason’s just turned four when Luke goes into a cursed mansion and never comes out again.

She straps Jason to her chest and circles the burned out husk of the mansion for any sign, any clue, any remnant of her friend and partner in raising both Jason and hell. She searches the house, then starts working her way out steadily until its more than a mile from the mansion in all directions and she has to admit defeat.

Luke is gone. Luke is dead. He wanted to see his future and Thalia wishes futilely that she had argued more with him about it.

She clings to Jason and weeps bitter tears. Then she pulls herself together and marches on. Anywhere but here. Tennessee, she’s heard, is hot and muggy this time of year, but Thalia feels like she’ll never be warm again.

Meanwhile, Luke has the shield of aegis, a lot more issues with the gods, a golf club, and a blonde little girl terrified of spiders.

🗲

Thalia’s just turned thirteen and Jason’s still four when she snaps her gum obnoxiously and says to the cashier who asked her why she’s not in school, “I’m seventeen, I have a half day before I go to work, and he’s four, dipshit. Now pack it up, I haven’t got all day.”

Her heart thuds in her ears, but Disinterested Teenager is the name of the game, and she’s the godsdamn master of it. Thick eyeliner, chunky mascara, and fake piercings do the rest to convince them. They’ve played this game a thousand times.

Three Big Three kids in a corner store is too much temptation for the monsters, though, and that’s how she meets Sally Fucking Jackson, who’s clear-sighted in every sense of the word.

🗲

Sally is a badass—not a word that Thalia applies to just anyone. Thalia also can’t stand to be around her for too long, because the woman has sacrificed everything to try and raise her son safely.

Seeing herself reflected—mother and son, sister and brother, who would kill or die or be abused to keep him safe and happy and well—is an ache like the cold. And she wishes Beryl had tried.

Is it a crime, to wish that she’d had herself or a Sally to protect her? Thalia thinks not, but it hurts much worse than stealing. She giggles at Jason and Percy arguing over cookies, swiftly removes Jason from Percy when it becomes clear that two small, angry Big Three children wreak havoc on indoor plumbing and HVAC systems, and high tails it out of there with Jason in tow when Sally offers them a place to stay.

Luke survived two years with her and Jason. Sally has her own son to think about living for.

Her eyes burn. She takes a deep breath and marches on.

🗲

Thalia’s fifteen and Jason’s seven and Thalia needs all her fingers to count how many issues she’s got going on currently.

It’s the middle of summer and it’s hotter than Hades’s asscrack, so she thought, “oh hey, it’s not like we’re not already nomadic, let’s go north for the summer and see Yellowstone and such.”

Yellowstone was great. Grizzly bears hate everything pretty equally, but avoid Thalia and Jason like the plague. That means that grizzly bears will happily maul a monster and leave them be. Thalia would like to stay here forever, please and thank you.

But then there was the fucking Fury that chased them to (not quite) hell and back, and Thalia packed them up and ran so far that they wound up in the mountains before they stopped for breath, and then hung out with the Hyperborean giants for a while. Hot Furies and freezing Hyperborean giants don’t mix well, apparently. And then Thalia figured, well, if she was already on the mountains, might as well see what the West Coast has to offer them.

The Fury caught up to them right as they were crossing the Nevada/California border, and Thalia just wants to say that it’s completely ridiculous how hot Nevada is. No place needs to be that hot during the day and that cold at night. A week later and they’ve run so far west that Thalia can taste the salt from the ocean in the air.

They’re out of places for them to run.

Thalia has silver plated hunting knives, handles wrapped with shredded old tires and fabric cushioning the edges. She’s blasted the Fury back with lightning so many times her hair is permanently standing on end and her fingers tingle.

There’s a girl in a purple shirt on the edges of the fight. Her mouth is dropped open like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

Thalia has a few other things to worry about.

Then the girl comes back with more people in purple shirts and—and they’re armed. Armed with things that can actually hurt a monster.

The Fury shrieks and dives at them and the girl shouts, “Turtle formation!” and shields close around them on all sides.

What Thalia wouldn’t give for a shield. Or a proper weapon.

The Fury rakes its claws across the shields, clambers all over them like a really big, really weird looking lizard, and then almost gets skewered by a sword that pokes itself between a minuscule crack between the shields.

Thalia braces herself between Jason and the Fury, waiting for it to realize that there’s easier prey. Jason, weaponless, hugs her from behind and buries his face in her back.

She breathes deeply. She shivers in spite of the hot air—

A cold wind from the east. The Fury rises, sees them in the open, launches—

There’s a tendril that feels like lightning, a hot line of power. Her gut clenches. Jason shudders so hard he almost yanks her off her feet. The sky goes from blue to black and raging in an instant, and the thunderbolt that comes from the sky is as thick around as Thalia is, blinding and deafening everyone in the vicinity. The Fury vanishes in the lightning’s blaze, naught but golden dust and ash on the ground.

Thalia almost passes out. Her ears are ringing and she can barely see.

The girl in the purple shirt is very tall, Thalia thinks, before she realizes her knees have buckled under her and that the girl is probably a normal height. She’s saying something that Thalia can’t hear, but she can hear Jason yelling something indistinctly. She gropes around behind her, grabbing him.

“He’s my brother,” she says, loudly enough that she feels her own chest rumble. She might be too loud, but she’s guessing otherwise with how useless her own ears are. “He’s annoying but he’s my brother, don’t kill him.”

Jason socks her in the shoulder, so at least someone can hear something.

The girl says something, looking at Thalia. She thinks that the word take was somewhere in there, but reading lips has never been her forte. “You’re not taking him,” she says loudly. “I threatened to destroy Olympus the last time someone tried taking him from me, and I’m still not joking about that.”

“You did what,” was clearly audible, so that must have been screamed in her ear.

“Oh yes,” Thalia says with probably more satisfaction than is wise, considering Jason shaking her and the girl in the purple shirt looking at her with wide eyes. Her vision swims, but it’s been five years and the vicious satisfaction has not yet dimmed. “Dearly beloathed stepmother tried stealing you from mom. I fried her ass, grabbed you, told her if she tried that again I’d do my damnedest to bring Olympus to its knees, and ran. Haven’t seen her in five years.”

The girl, wide-eyed, brings both index fingers together parallel, and clearly says, “Both.”

Oh. Taking them both. That was fine. Nothing short of Tartarus could hold them captive together.

“That’s fine,” Thalia agrees, and immediately passes the fuck out.

🗲

Thalia wakes up with Jason on her right, looking like he’d been slapped with a live flounder while she was out, a blond man with a circular shield in front of them, and a pounding headache.

“Thals,” Jason whispers. “Can you hear me yet?”

She nods, moving her hand enough that he can feel it.

“Is there a monster that imitates dead people?”

What.

The blond in front of them—shielding them, in the most literal sense of the word—glances back just long enough to check on them and it’s long enough to see his profile and what the fuck.

“Luke?” she breathes, propping herself up on an elbow.

“What in the gods be damned Hades are you doing in California?” Luke hisses. “This place is like monster central, don’t you know better?”

“We didn’t exactly have much of a choice in the matter,” Thalia says dryly. “What are you doing alive?”

He glances back at them again, a crooked grin on his face. “You know me,” he says. “Always escaping by the skin of my teeth. Can we have this conversation later, without weird, culty demigods trying to grab you guys?”

Thalia looks up at the swirling clouds above them. She hates to admit it, but— “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Oh for—“ Luke exclaims. “Jason, buddy, hold this.” He unlatches the shield from his arm and passes it off to her brother. “You can terrify us with it later, until then, just keep pointing it at the purple people.” Then he reaches down and scoops her up with a huff of air. “You need to eat more,” Luke tells her as an aside. “Jason, north and east. I’ll follow.”

“Sorry I just spent the last two weeks fighting off a fucking Fury,” Thalia says sarcastically. “I shall endeavor to take a break and eat a hamburger every six to eight hours as my body demands—except wait, no, I can’t, because I have a literal demon from hell that wants to kill me because I had the audacity to be born.”

“You couldn’t have fried it before today?” Luke asks.

“You think I didn’t fry it like fifty times?” Thalia says. “You know, I know we’ve been apart for a couple of years because I thought you were dead, but I didn’t realize my temper was forgettable.”

Jason’s giggling in front of them.

“It’s really not,” Luke says, grinning. He looks back, even though Thalia can clearly see the purple people, as he called them, not following them. He sobers. “I looked for you.”

“I looked for your body,” Thalia says.

“I’m sorry.”

“Be sorrier.”

“Hey, who’s carrying who?”

“I fried a Fury. When you fry a Fury and don’t pass out, then you can talk.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He sounds unimpressed, but she looks, and there’s both amusement and awe in his eyes. “I’ll take that under consideration. But really. I’m sorry. I knew that when I couldn’t find you, you’d think I was dead and I didn’t do more to let you know otherwise.”

Thalia wrestles with her temper and her hurt. “So why didn’t you?”

Luke shakes his head. “The explosion? Was my fault. It was the only way I could see myself getting out alive.”

Thalia remembers the old house suddenly exploding, going up like someone lit an entire matchbox on fire with Greek fire. There’s a certain shade of lime green that she hates to this day, and it’s entirely because of that.

“I got literally blown out of the house, managed to land in a dumpster and not on the metal roof next to it,” Luke continues. “Badly injured, vaguely flash fried, I’d broken my leg on the way out. I laid in the dumpster with some ambrosia trying get myself to heal for at least a day.”

Yikes. Big Yikes.

“By the time I managed to hobble out of the dumpster, our camp was gone. I went to the city to get some mortal bandages, trying not to burn myself out on ambrosia, and I went down an alleyway. There was a weird noise, and I wanted to investigate before I tried bunking down there for the night, and the next thing I know, there’s this little girl trying to take my kneecaps out with a hammer.”

Luke shakes his head, grinning to himself. “Her name’s Annabeth, she’s a daughter of Athena. She’s eight.”

What were the odds? Probably basically zero.

“What?” Thalia says.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “Nuts, right? Pretty sure either Hermes or Athena—or both—were keeping her safe. I convinced her I wasn’t a monster and got her to travel with me. She’s strong, so it was tough while I healed.”

“And then, like six months later, Clarisse found us,” Luke says. “Daughter of Ares, also really strong. The three of us racked up almost as many as the three of us did.”

Thalia winces.

Luke goes quiet. “There’s a camp, in New York,” he says slowly, “specifically built to handle and protect demigods.”

Thalia lifts her head.

“They send out satyrs to try and find demigods before—well, before we get overrun by monsters. And the three of us, roaming around the New England area with a horde of monsters on our tails? It was enough to attract some attention, especially when we were in New York City. Clarisse...she didn’t make it. But Annabeth did.”

Thalia couldn’t breathe.

“She’s safe, back at camp.”

“What are you not saying?” Thalia demanded. “That’d be the first thing out of your mouth. Why would we not be safe?”

“There’s a pact that your dad made, way back after World War II,” Luke says. “No more kids from the Big Three. The crack that you made, about having the audacity of being born? He broke his oath. But he’s immortal, so you pay the price.”

Luke twitches a bit, so Thalia holds her breath until she doesn’t have enough air to be mad.

“The campers there haven’t seen a child of the Big Three ever. Chiron, the centaur who runs the place, hasn’t seen a child of the Big Three since World War II. You guys die too fast. And, even worse, there’s a prophecy about one turning sixteen and potentially destroying the world.”

“Luke,” Thalia says, very calmly. “I need you to put me down.”

Luke sets her on the ground with gratifying speed.

Thalia draws her hunting blades and stabbed them into the ground and made ladders of electricity between them to try and not send off stray pieces of lightning to everyone else around her.

Thalia rests her head against the humming pommels. “Two years ago, Jason and I were in a corner store in New York when monsters attacked.”

Luke stills.

“I’d kicked butt not an hour prior, but it turns out that three Big Three kids is too tantalizing a prospect.”

Luke gasps. “How—“

“Poseidon had a son with a badass woman,” Thalia laughs hollowly. “His taste in women is impeccable, I’ll give him that. Percy’s eight. Him and Jason almost blew out the plumbing in the building arguing over a cookie, so I knew we couldn’t stay.”

“You—I’ve never heard you describe someone as badass, much less a mortal,” Luke says.

Thalia—sighs. “Yeah. She’s sacrificed damn near everything to keep him safe. I can respect that.”

She hauls in a deep breath and forces herself standing. She sways, her vision swims a little, but worlds better than earlier. She pulls her knives out of the ground, cleans off the dirt, and sheathes them. Luke stands behind her, to the left, arms hovering.

Gods, she’s missed him.

“I’ve missed you,” she says. Like a phantom limb.

“I’m so glad you’re still okay,” Luke says.

🗲

Luke goes back to Camp Half-Blood, quest unfulfilled, and brings Annabeth out of the borders. Chiron and Grover come with them, and it’s a very nervous daughter and son of the sky god that they meet.

“Annabeth, Clarisse, Grover, the first bunch I ran herd on,” Luke says fondly, ruffling Jason’s hair. He pats the tree next to him. “Thalia, Jason, this is Clarisse, Annabeth, Grover, and Chiron.”

Annabeth scowls at Jason first, then Thalia. “I’m coming with you,” she announces.

Grover let out a quiet sound of horror. Which, fair. Cute kid, but Thalia had enough work with Jason, and she refuses to endanger a third strong demigod again.

“Um, no,” Luke says firmly, but gently. “You’re not coming with us.”

“You’re not coming with Jason and I, either,” Thalia says, cutting that off at the trunk.

Luke whirls around. “I just—“

“We had to watch you die once already,” Thalia says icily. Annabeth goes white. “Forgive me for not wanting to repeat the experience, with no guarantee that you’d appear out of nowhere three years later.” She tucks her brother closer to her. She softens, just a bit. “We’ll visit,” she promises.

“You would not stay?” Chiron asks.

Thalia glances at the demigods on the other side of the barrier. “Stay in one place that’s constantly watched by the gods. We’d be dead on the inside of a month. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”

She sees the brief look of confusion on Chiron’s face and immediately glares at Luke. “You didn’t tell them?”

“It’s none of their business if you’re not going to stay anyway,” Luke says practically. “Annie knows. Clarisse didn’t. I’m pretty sure all they can smell is that you’re strong demigods, not your parentage.”

Thalia eyes them dubiously. “Thalia, daughter of Zeus,” she introduces herself shortly. “And my full-blooded brother, Jason. I’m fifteen and I threatened Hera with the end of Olympus five years ago if she tried taking him from me. I suddenly see why she took my threat seriously.”

Grover chokes on a laugh. Annabeth kicks him in the shin and scrutinizes Thalia. “The gods are better than the other options,” she says seriously. “But kicking them probably wouldn’t hurt. Much.”

Thalia grins at her. She looks at Luke. “You’re right, I like her.”

“So I can come with you,” Annabeth says confidently.

“No,” Thalia says. “But, even if me kicking them doesn’t work next year, I have a mission for you.”

Luke frowns at her in askance.

“In like, four to seven years, Beth, this will be very important, so listen carefully,” Thalia says slowly. “There will be a boy who comes to camp, probably beat to Hades and back and probably grieving. I need you to befriend him.”

Annabeth looks puzzled. Chiron looks politely confused. Grover looks utterly befuddled. Luke looks like she’d slapped him with a hagfish and then offered him some sunflowers: astonished, disgusted, and delighted, all at the same time. Jason starts laughing.

“Thals,” Luke says, obviously trying not to laugh.

Annabeth looks at Luke and then back at Thalia. “It would be a prank on them?”

“It would be a kick in the face,” Thalia corrects. “He’s nice. Perhaps a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but he respects the women in his life.”

She considers this. “Four to seven years? I’d be twelve to fifteen?”

Thalia nods.

“Okay,” Annabeth decides. “If I don’t like him I can kick him though, right?”

“He’d probably deserve it,” Thalia agrees. “But don’t do it if he doesn’t deserve it.”

🗲

Thalia’s fifteen and Jason’s eight and they’re in Tennessee when an old dude named Fred approaches them. “That wasn’t very nice to set them up like that. Funny, though.”

Thalia glances to the side and sees the golden sunshine yellow of his iris. “They have a habit of setting us up to fulfill their rivalries. I’m just breaking the cycle.”

Jason peers around her from the other side to see who she’s talking to. He seems puzzled at who the stranger is, but cautiously says, “Hey, cousin.”

A hilariously safe bet.

Apollo seems to thinks so, too, because he guffaws once before he says hi back.

“But seriously, the kid’s got enough problems, you want to add to his list?” Apollo says.

“Luke was the best thing that ever happened to me, short of Jason,” Thalia says. “Someone who will argue with him rather than agreeing to everything will do them both a world of good.” She pauses. “I’m not the child of the prophecy. Am I.”

It’s not a question.

“You could be,” Apollo says finally. “Basically any time after you turn sixteen. But while some Old things are stirring, none of them are close to waking. There’s nothing happening that would aid you in Olympus’s fall, and nothing that would topple it that you’d be able to preserve.”

He pauses. “Between you and me?”

“And Jason,” Thalia says.

“And Jason,” Apollo agrees. “Prophecies can be fulfilled in a lot of odd ways. Ideas, you know, last beyond a mortal lifetime. Maybe you preemptively introducing that troublemaking pair will destroy an idea that Olympus holds sacred. Some things need to be changed, otherwise it will spell our end.”

Thalia glances at him and quirks a sarcastic smile. “Good thing I’m dyslexic.”

“Yes,” Apollo agrees, completely serious in the face of her joke. “Good thing that you are.”

She covers Jason’s eyes as Apollo goes supernova and they’re left alone in Nashville.

🗲

Jason’s eight and today is Thalia’s birthday, and Sally has taken the four of them out to a restaurant to celebrate when everything…

Well.

Thalia would say when everything goes to shit but it’s really when they reached the proverbial fork in the road. Or perhaps, when everything changes.

It starts with the restaurant’s door chiming open, with a woman’s gracious voice waving off the waitstaff saying, “My party is already here, thank you.” And she walks closer to them, a brown woman in a white business suit with a shirt that shimmers blue and green and purple. Her brown heels clack on the stone pavers that make up the floor.

She stops at their table and slides into the booth next to Thalia.

Across from her, Sally picks up her steak knife in a move that’s undeniably a threat. Thalia fucking loves her.

“Hera,” Thalia says evenly, making a show of going back to her menu. “I know immortals have a screwy sense of time, but I do believe you’ve managed to pick the worst possible time to have a confrontation. Congratulations. That takes some true talent.”

Hera reaches out and snags Sally’s menu that Sally is completely ignoring in favor of glaring metaphorical daggers at the goddess while threatening her with a steak knife. Thalia absently sends a prayer to both Apollo and Hermes. They both cover such a wide variety pack of stuff that one of them should cover badass but also kind and occasionally stupid mortals.

“On the contrary,” Hera says. “I believe this is the perfect time. We are constrained by polite society, so we must at least appear to get along.”

Thalia lowers the menu to look at Hera, and then swing her gaze at Sally. Hera lowers her stolen menu at the long look, and then sees the attempted threat. “Ah. Well. Some of us are constrained by polite society. I see that others don’t apply.”

Thalia takes a deep breath. It feels like it goes deeper than usual, somehow, like her guts have made way for her lungs. And, like magic, Thalia’s water tips over without anyone touching it and spills all over Hera.

Thalia hasn’t got a drop on her.

That—it felt like she did that, not Percy. Percy looks almost as startled as Thalia feels, safely sandwiched in between Sally, the table, and the wall. Hera makes a disgusted noise, taps her fingers along the menu, and the water vanishes. Thalia reaches out and rights the cup slowly.

“Lady, you’re probably the only one in polite society,” Thalia says bluntly. “Say your piece and get out.”

“Very well,” Hera says. “When I tried to take Jason six years ago, you told me that you would destroy Olympus if I succeeded to get him back. Does that still hold?”

“Yes,” Thalia snarls. Her fingers clench the menu in her hands and it feels like she’s holding onto a live wire now.

“Is that the only reason why you would even try?” Hera presses.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hera,” Thalia says. Her voice slides into a lower register that’s meant to be heard over a horde of monsters, but she still only speaks just above a whisper. “I have only ever wanted to be left alone by you people. Leave me and mine be and we won’t have an issue.”

“You and yours being?”

“The people at this table and Luke and his second family—Annabeth, Clarisse, Grover,” Thalia says. “Is that your game? You want to see who you can fuck over without me triggering the prophecy?”

Hera goes silent and Thalia knows she’s hit the nail on the head.

“You listen well, Hera, goddess of marriage,” Thalia says. “If I found out one of my people died because you’re so short sighted and possessive of a husband that has never and will never respect you, I will bring the prophecy down on all our heads, chop you into a gazillion pieces as Zeus did to Kronos, and toss you into Tartarus myself and let you rot with grandfather. If you insist on sharing his mental issues, you can share an unliving space with him as well.”

Hera’s jaw is clenched and her lips pursed together.

“How about,” Thalia continues, “you learn about this novel thing called communication, and possibly divorce. It’s the twenty first century, step mother, aunt, cunt, whatever you’d like me to call you. Women have rights, women have therapists, and women have divorce lawyers. Zeus was around for my childhood, I actually know the decrepit prick. I can’t imagine being around him for three thousand years and not straight up murdering him. If you have an issue with me besides me being born—which, I’ll remind you, I actually had no say in—not kidnapping my brother is a great way to start a conversation.”

Jason chokes on a laugh about reminding the goddess of marriage that she has no say in herself being born. Thalia silently tells him to shut the fuck up before Hera remembers his existence.

“The gods are not allowed—“

“Then it’s a great thing that you’ve never had demigod kids, so you can safely interact with demigods that are not your kids. Which is all of them.”

Thalia pauses. “Goodbye. I’m celebrating surviving to sixteen. You are not invited.” She waved down a server. “Could I get another water? I was really thirsty,” she says guilelessly.

Sally visibly swallows a laugh as Hera rises. Definitely not running from being threatened with more ice water on her suit. Nope. Definitely not.

“Your disrespect,” Hera says severely, “is only matched by your loyalty.”

And then she vanishes.

“Well, that went swimmingly,” Thalia says brightly. “I want lad naa.”

Sally sets down the knife carefully and then rests her head on the table.

🗲

(the mental image is too funny: a pristine business woman, a teenager with the nineties grunge aesthetic, two eight year old boys, and a mom in mom clothing sit down in a Siam restaurant.)

🗲

It’s when Thalia delivers them all safely back to the Jacksons’ apartment that she asks Percy quietly, “The water spilling. Was that—?”

“It wasn’t me,” Percy says uncertainly. “I dunno. It didn’t feel like me.”

“It felt like I did it,” Thalia says. “But that’s not my power.”

“Maybe the air pushed it over,” Jason says.

Thalia pauses. The air is their domain. She doesn’t remember any weird gusts of wind, but she was also very focused on not frying someone and also making sure Hera didn’t do something stupid, like try kidnapping Jason. Again.

“Maybe,” she says. But she doubts it.

🗲

Thalia’s seventeen and Jason is nine when they see the Jacksons again, a whole year and a half later. They celebrate Percy’s tenth birthday in a cabin on Montauk, and while Thalia’s supervising the boys playing in the surf, she can hear...something. In the cabin.

Sally is taking a well-deserved nap, or she’s supposed to be. Instead, she sits on the bed and bows her head over a head of dark, curly hair, attached to a tanned man kneeling in front of her.

Thalia shuts the door again just as quickly and guns it.

Later, she thinks, and wonders—that’s real devotion she saw there. That was I missed you and come with me? and he is beautiful. She naps under the sea of stars, one boy under each arm, and she can rest easy knowing that neither can be stolen away without her knowing immediately.

There’s a shush of displaced sand, and Percy shifts under her arm, and she cracks an eye open. She assumes its Sally, but its Poseidon, who rests a large hand on Percy’s forehead and looks awed and wistful.

He sees that she’s awake, a split second after she’s seen the heartache and longing on his face, and smiles at her ruefully. Thank you, he mouths, and dissolves into a salty sea breeze.

🗲

There’s an entire pack of hellhounds to deal with in the morning. Thalia picks Jason up with one arm and Percy with the other and hurls them both into the shack calling itself a cabin with Sally.

There’s a lot of yelling about her decision, but Percy has never been trained, Sally is a mortal, and Jason is nine. She can do this.

She can do this, right?

She draws her hunting knives and her power up from her gut and they crackle with lightning immediately.

Thalia gives them the run around, around and around and around the beach and over and behind the shack and into the surf. She’s dusted four already, starting to drag a little with the many scrapes and scratches and near misses that she’s acquired, and regrets taking off her leather jacket. She stabs another and somersaults off a dissolving back into the surf.

She hoists herself to her feet, ankle deep in the lapping waves. She sets her jaw, takes a deep breath, and braces herself. Another three. She can do three hellhounds. She’s done three hellhounds before.

Thalia almost has her feet knocked out from under her by the three-foot-high waves. The air has become dim and gray, and smells of ozone. She risks a glance away from the hellhounds to the sky and—

That’s a hurricane.

That’s impossible. Sally checked the forecast before they left for Montauk, there wasn’t a hurricane within a week’s hurricane travel time, and no potentials out in the Atlantic near New York, either.

Did she—?

Thalia checks in with herself and no, she’s not nearly as tired as she would be to make an entire hurricane so she couldn’t have done it but Percy?

Percy’s ten, and in danger, and aware of who he is, and the son of the Stormbringer, and with a distressed son of the sky. They could have done it.

Maybe. Does Jason even know what a hurricane is? Thalia’s steered them away from the eastern and southern coasts during summer and fall for a reason.

The hellhounds attack, and there’s no more time to think about it.

Thalia whirls out of the way of the first, stabbing her knife into its flank on the way by, blasts the second back with a string of lightning, and would have been eaten by the third if a rouge wave hadn’t scooped her up bodily and flung her clear.

Water doesn’t behave like that, Thalia thinks, crashing back into the surf. She sucks in a lungful of seawater, coughs it back up, and staggers to her feet. She goes down on one knee and braces herself when she sees the charging hellhound and lets it impale itself on her knife. It bursts into dust and whirls away on the rising winds.

She rolls to the left, out of the surf, to escape the other two bearing down on her. She jumps, and the wind gives her a boost, and she flips neatly over the first hellhound and stabs downward at the second hellhound’s skull with the full force of her entire self falling through the air and almost beheads the monster. She lands, tucking the knives out to the side and somersaults on the landing through the monster dust and pops back to her feet to see the final hellhound has managed to turn on a dime and is going to flatten her.

It does. One paw lands on her chest, the size of a dinner plate, and bowls her back into the sand. The breath wuffs out of her, and she scrabbles to bring to bear her knives—

The world goes white.

She’s—alive?

Yes. She’s in the water. The white is hundreds of thousands of bubbles in the wave that just tried to crush both her and the hellhound both. She can see the black mass, now, that she assumes is the hellhound, writhing in the waters about four yards off to her left.

Follow the bubbles. The surface is only a few feet above her head, thank you, Poseidon, and she swims up and gasps for air and tries to look around. The sound is choppy, gray and violent with the sudden hurricane whipping everything into a froth.

She’s hundreds of yards from shore.

Thalia swears loudly enough that she’s sure the boys can hear her from here. Lightning flashes overhead to punctuate it.

What happened? Was there a storm surge and then a riptide? She couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, if she was out at all!

Teeth sink into her leg and she’s dragged down again.

The hellhound is terrifyingly adept at swimming in the water. Thalia is a good enough swimmer to keep her head above water and get back to dry land, and not much else. Practicing surviving the water more than was absolutely necessary seemed foolish, given that one uncle already hated her guts. She was not about to try to piss off the other one, as well. She’d only let Jason play in the surf if Percy was also there.

Thalia was not above holding his son metaphorically hostage if it meant Poseidon would play nice with her brother.

It makes passes at Thalia in the water, darting in to claw or bite at her and darting away before Thalia can get a good hit in. She’s slow in the water, from both the resistance of the water and from the lack of air.

Out, out, I need to get OUT OF HERE—

There’s something wrong at the surface.

It looks wild from down below, but Thalia needs air and she’s not aware of any monsters that like hanging out in the air in a hurricane, so she swims for the surface.

Oh look, she deadpans to herself. A waterspout. Just what I need.

Hurricanes spawn tornadoes frequently, this should not be a shock. But she needed a way out, and a waterspout would, in fact, get her out of the water, and also probably slice her to pieces.

Hmm.

She dives back under the waves, gets whirled around a couple times by a wave cycle, and finally spots the hellhound. It sees her about the same time.

Thalia, thinking, what the HELL am I doing? swims towards the waterspout. She swims as fast as she can towards the waterspout that’s probably only thirty feet away, but feels like a mile.

The hellhound is on her before she can believe it, and she grabs it by the chest fur, ducking under the dangerous teeth, hauls herself close, and swings around, hoping that her own momentum would do what she hoped. It did, it reversed them, so that the hellhound was closer to the surface than she was, and then Thalia braced both feet against its chest and blasted it back with a plume of bubbles.

My superpower, Thalia thinks, amused, bubbles.

Straight into the vortex it goes, and up, and up—

Thalia surfaces ten feet away, swimming backwards, and watches the hellhound get sucked more than thirty feet up before it dissolves into golden dust. She breathes out a sigh of relief. The waterspout dissolves just as quickly as it formed.

Can’t believe that worked, she thinks, and starts swimming to shore.

There’s a lot of yelling. And nobody can agree on who made the hurricane, or the waterspout, or the weird waves, but they’re all tired as Hades.

🗲

Thalia is eighteen and Jason is eleven and the world almost ended. It’s June 24th, mere days before Jason turns twelve, three days after Percy pulled some seriously stupid stunts for a month and then vanished again, and Thalia found out that he, Annabeth, and Grover found Zeus’s zappy wand and returned it in the nick of time before all out war broke out.

She and Jason storm Camp Half-Blood. There’s a lot of yelling involved, and some blood, and some swords stuck in places they should not be stuck. Luke pulls her off to the side and she has both hands wrapped around the edges of his breastplate because otherwise they’ll shake and she’s whispering, “What the fuck, Luke. He’s twelve. Why—How—?” over and over again into his collarbone.

“Thals,” he says, chuckling, wrapping her in a hug. “Those three are going to take over the world, and the world will be gladder for it.”

“They shouldn’t have to,” she says.

“I think world domination would be a self-directed and mostly accidental task, actually,” Luke says thoughtfully, and its such a ludicrous statement that Thalia falls into hysterical laughter.

[officerjennie]

Tied Together

A MadaTobiIzu CYOA

Chapter 1, Path 1 - which path will you choose?

Voting Open! Survey closes on 12-7 at 5:00pm CST

Sunlight filtered through the clouds, dabbled light shining on the path that wound its way through the village. Up ahead, the hokage’s tower stood watch, its offices mostly empty, lights off and curtains drawn as they were every weekend.

Peace. It was everything Madara had hoped for, had dreamed for years and years that they could claw their way towards. For just a moment he stopped, readjusting the scrolls that he had tucked into the crook of his elbow and stared up at the clouds that floated overhead. One hand shielding his eyes, and a deep sigh that let him smell the air that was free of sulfur or the smell of blood and war.

They could have lived like this much sooner, if only he’d not been so stubborn. So afraid to lose the person who meant the most to him. But the thought of losing Izuna, his anchor, had haunted his nights and had pushed him onto the battlefield every day.

As if the battlefield wasn’t the place that threatened him the most. Madara snorted at himself - his past self, the one who’d drawn his blade against his foes and unknowingly endangered his family more than the Senju. Peace had found them anyway, and for the first time in decades he felt like he could release the tension in his shoulders. He could relax, knowing no one was going to burn his clan to the ground in the middle of the night, or-

“Just gonna stand there like an idiot, huh.”

“What the fuck.”

As a light tap touched his shoulder out of nowhere, Madara flung himself back, reaching for the gunbai that was no longer strapped to his back. With the startle, his eyes flashed red, and in that split second sharingan seared the image of Izuna, his last living brother, grinning like a mad man at his expense into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Are we children again?” Madara straightened out of his defensive stance and crossed his arms over his chest, willing the fight response to calm its ass down while Izuna continued to snicker at him.

“I was under the impression you never grew up. Just treating you accordingly.”

“Little shit.” As he cursed at Izuna, Madara tried to grapple him with his elbow, but Izuna easily ducked right out of the way fast as a snake. Stubborn and annoyed as he was, Madara didn’t try again.

Izuna was a predator, not prey. With his growing network of spies spreading across the country like a web, Izuna caught so much and so many. Lies, betrayers, enemies hidden in the trees, missives that were supposed to go to other officials, and where Madara had hidden Izuna’s birthday present just a week after he’d bought it. Flies didn’t catch the spider unless the spider wanted to be caught.

Between them, their shadows danced in the dappled light. Wove around each other and darted away again, never still, as if a fire burned and the flickering flames forced their movement. It had been like this between them since Izuna’s birth, reaching for each other but darting away all the same, as if the shadows were unwilling to settle.

Madara frowned, and let his arms drop to his side. “What are you doing here, otouto? I did not expect to see you until dinner.”

“I was on my way to see someone,” Izuna admitted, his eyes drifting away to the side. Though he felt no shame he loved to play coy, especially when it got under his brother’s skin so effectively.

“Just checking in on you.” Stepping around him, Izuna kept his eyes on his brother, and Madara had the distinct impression he was being measured. “Bit early to be out on a day off, isn’t it?”

[bmodiwrites]

We'll Be Rocking 'Til the Sun Goes Down

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: I've seen so much circulating about sweaty Steve as a drummer and Eddie's thirst for it, but I first saw the idea here first! Thanks for your service, @steveshairychest! I hope I did your brainchild proud. Word Count: ~9k Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Other than that, it’s pretty tame! Summary:

When Gareth breaks his arm and needs to find a replacement drummer, Eddie is surprised to see Steve stand up to be that person. He's taken off guard by Steve's talent - no one knows that Steve's been sneaking into Hawkins High band room at night just to play the drum kit there. When previous crushes become too much to bear, what happens when feelings bubble over and a shirtless moment finally ignites the flame? Read to find out!

Or - Steve fills in as Corroded Coffins' drummer and Eddie is thirsty for it.

Find it on AO3

Walking into band practice, Eddie had no idea that his life was about to change drastically.

It was like any other day post-Vecna. Eddie dealt with the taunts and teases at school by tucking his head down and actually doing the class work put before him. After fighting and dying and coming back from the dead with some pretty impressive CPR, Eddie wanted to live his life, which meant getting the hell out of high school in order to do so. Being one of the most hated people in Hawkins had its perks – he was skating by with a C- in Mrs. O’Donnel’s class because of all the extra work – as long as he didn’t fuck it up, Eddie was going to walk across the stage. All his haters be damned.

Following the school day, Eddie went back to his trailer to pre-game and practice a little extra before rehearsal with the band later. He burned down two joints while working on the fingering of Master of Puppets for the billionth time. While Eddie wasn’t going to play it during any of Corroded Coffins’ shows, a certain kind of comfort came from the familiar song he swore saved his life. By the time the sun was setting, Eddie felt sufficiently ready to jam with the rest of the guys.

Gareth’s garage had quickly become a safe space for all of the Hellfire Club (and their girlfriends) to hangout. When Dustin and the party weren’t over at Steve’s or gathered up in the drama room for campaigns, most of them were lounging on the dirty couches at Gareth’s. It became almost natural for Eddie to walk into their practice space to see Steve and Robin there, too. Following the group’s entanglement with the displeasures of the Upside Down, being separated from one another was hard – even Eddie understood the feeling.

So, when he got there and saw Steve amongst the chaos, Eddie didn’t think twice. Steve looking up at him with a hopeful smile didn’t set off any warning bells – why should it when Eddie actually enjoyed seeing that expression on Steve’s face? Eddie got to keep it together long enough to get his guitar strapped across his chest before the shit hit the fan. He failed to notice that Gareth wasn’t sitting behind the drums until he walked out of his house with the entirety of his right arm in a hard cast.

“Gareth, what the hell, man?” Eddie exclaimed, finally on the right page of what was happening. His eyes roamed over the black plaster keeping Gareth’s arm at a ninety degree angle. No matter what his drummer said, there was no getting around the lack of full arm movement – Gareth obviously wouldn’t be drumming for them any time soon.

After getting the details, Eddie was loathe to admit that Gareth’s attempt at grinding down the railing in front of the gym on his skateboard was a worthy way to break a bone – despite making them a very important man down. Eddie had no idea what to do next, but it seemed as if Gareth did. His eyes were heavy on Steve, drawing Eddie’s attention. He watched his two friends share a look before Steve stood up. “Gareth asked me to fill in and I’d be happy to do it.” Steve looked kind of nervous while he spoke but determined all the same.

Out of all the fixes Eddie could’ve thought up, having Steve play drums for them was not one of them. Until that moment, Eddie didn’t even know the preppy boy could play an instrument, let alone the drums. Never mind the fact that Steve actively disliked Eddie’s turn to DJ whenever they rode in a car together or hung out in general. How any of that equated to Steve being able to take Gareth’s place, Eddie didn’t know. He was aware of the fact that they needed to find a solution, though, so he tried not to immediately say no.

“Can you actually play?” Eddie found himself asking, trying so very hard not to sound condescending as he did. The feeling of confusion still clung to him, dulling his already terrible social skills. Steve didn’t seem to mind, though – he even smiled at Eddie’s tone.

Instead of answering, Steve bent down to grab a pair of drumsticks Eddie didn’t see sitting on the couch there before. He was befuddled to think that Gareth and Steve managed to pull one over on him without Eddie even knowing – the evidence, however, was right in front of him. Steve sat down behind the kit with a soft huff. His fingers gripped and ungripped the sticks a couple of times before he clicked them together three times and started to play.

Eddie tried not to let his jaw drop, but knew he failed tremendously. Aside from the fact that Steve could play, like truly and genuinely play, Eddie was further shocked to find that Steve looked damn good doing it, too. Maybe not shocked but taken aback. His biceps were barely covered by the tight t-shirt riding up with every arm movement. Forearms that were visible clenched and tugged when the sticks hit the drums. Whatever athletic skill the younger boy had clearly translated into good balance and great hand-eye coordination. It was odd to see Steve let go so easily – he looked kind of like Gumby in his fluidity.

Taking a look at Gareth and Jeff, neither one of them seemed to be surprised by what was happening in front of them. Gareth even seemed to be smiling as Steve made his way through the song without too many hiccups. Eddie wondered then what was worse – not knowing how GOOD Steve was at the drums or coming to the realization that things were happening behind his back. It was a pretty heady tie between both of those ideas; Eddie hated being the odd man out.

Still, he clamped down on his hurt feelings to clap along with his friends when Steve stopped. His chest was heaving, the usually pristine hair drooping over his forehead in disarray. The hazel of his eyes seemed to be shining brighter in the fluorescent garage light. Eddie thought he looked happy – who was he to rob the world of such a look on Steve Harrington’s face? Wordlessly, Eddie nodded his approval; when push came to shove, they were lucky to have such a stand-in. Eddie just wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of spending so much time with Steve looking so goddamn yummy alive.

----

two weeks earlier

Steve never expected his secret to get out.

Really, he went out of his way to make sure that only Robin knew about his late night trips into the Hawkins High band room. He’d been sneaking in to the use the drum kit there for more than a year as a way to relieve stress and deal with the long nights without much sleep. After a couple of mishaps with the late night janitorial staff, Steve knew the right time to climb in through the window and have a couple hours of peace where the noise he made drowned out everything else in his head.

He found quite a bit of success in keeping his little hobby to himself, simply because people didn’t expect much of anything from him. Definitely not the knowledge and skill to make his hands and feet work at the same time like the drums demanded. Never mind the fact that all of his playing happened in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping. It was nice to have something that was only for himself – being a surrogate dad to more than six obnoxious and nosy teens made it difficult to have any privacy.

Every night, Steve risked getting caught for a bit of freedom and anonymity where he could be sad or happy or scared or mad without anyone judging him. The drums were a perfect source of concentrated noise that channeled Steve’s inner feelings better than talking to a therapist or sharing with his friends ever would. Not to mention he was starting to get good – like play in a band and actually contribute something good. While he never had an ear for music before, buying into the organized chaos of the drums made it easy to pick up rhythms without much trouble. Throw in all the natural talent he had in all the sports he played and Steve was proud to admit that his long limbs and wild spirit were perfect for the drums.

Of course, no one was supposed to know about Steve’s knack for the instrument – he went out of his way for that to be the case. Too bad Gareth didn’t give a shit about Steve’s hopes and wishes.

The night he was found, Steve was working through some mixed feelings regarding a certain long haired boy. He found it hard to be in the same room with Eddie without being drawn into his orbit. At first, Steve swore it was fascination with the new person in their slowly expanding family. Steve got front row seats to Eddie’s epic metal distraction that saved all of their lives, changing fascination to genuine attraction. His friend had skill that spoke of hours of practice and the sort of passion for music that only real musicians could touch. It was a beautiful sight that stuck into the depths of Steve’s subconscious. The interest in Eddie he’d already been trying to push down became something real and Steve didn’t know what to do with it.

Lucky for him, Nicko McBrain had drumlines that were complex and intense and just enough to distract him from thoughts Steve was nowhere near ready to deal with. He was wailing through the intro to The Trooper when the band room’s door opened and Steve’s world changed.

He half expected Gareth to start questioning him immediately. Steve remembered the younger boy enough to know that he was loud and outspoken – a lot like Eddie in that sense. Instead, Gareth stood there perplexed for an entire minute, still as a statue. Then – “You’re not half bad, Harrington.”

From there, Gareth wandered into the room, only to sit down behind the other set with a smile. “Want to try a duo?” His sticks were in his hands before Steve could really answer, but what would saying no really do for him? Steve picked up his own pair in answer, clicking them together to count them both in. It was shockingly fun to play with someone else, to hear another musician banter back and forth with him. And while Gareth was a bit more well practiced than him, Steve actually kept up. He was confident enough to stick it out and play decently with someone that was in an active band.

Steve played well enough, at least, for Gareth to come back the next night and then the next. They never really talked outside of deciding what song to play and the tempo they wanted to work it at, but that was just fine. He never had any intention of sharing his hidden talent with anyone. Their tentative alliance was built from late night breaking and entering and a knack for Iron Maiden’s work; built out of necessity, even. In a world where demogorgons and Vecna once existed, Steve wasn’t all that perplexed by a friendship where no words were exchanged – there were certainly stranger things.

Sure that the easy and silent connection would continue on, Steve was surprised to see an apathetic Gareth come into the music room a week later. He looked a little loopy and his arm was covered in what looked to be a fresh cast. Instead of sitting behind the drums, Gareth took a seat close to the kit that Steve liked to play. “I need a favor,” Gareth said, looking at Steve with a scarily serious expression.

“A favor?” Steve repeated as he turned on the stool to get a better visual of the younger boy. “What could I possibly be able to do for you?” While the question might’ve come across standoffish, Steve didn’t mean anything by it. They hadn’t ever had a real conversation – Steve knew nothing about Gareth other than his drumming skills and the setup of his garage. It was odd to think that Steve could be of any help.

Of course, Steve never took into account that a broken arm for Gareth meant no drummer for Corroded Coffin. His heart panged at the thought of Eddie being disappointed. After watching his secret crush almost die, Steve didn’t have it in him to see Eddie unhappy. That beautiful face covered in blood was already burnt into his memory, any more hurt would be too much. Without much internal quarrel about it, Steve was agreeing to whatever Gareth had to say. He was confident enough in his skill to put himself out on the line for Eddie’s scrutiny. Hell, Steve found himself excited to be there to see Eddie’s face when the truth came to the surface.

As predicted, the pure shock that overcame Eddie was more than worth the dramatic reveal that Gareth planned. Since Steve was already familiar with Eddie’s taste in music, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the drumline needed to play Corroded Coffins’ songs. With the minimal help that Gareth could provide and a bit of piecing together the sheet music, Steve was more than ready to step in and make the band proud.

And wasn’t that a thought – Steve’s mind stuck to the idea of having Eddie look at him with amazement and genuine pride. It was one thing to save the world together, playing in a band side by side, that was a completely different monster.

----

Eddie had no idea where Steve’s talent came from, but he was happy for it, nonetheless. Steve could play with a skill that wasn’t that far from Gareth’s and knew most of the band’s songs. It only took a few minutes of catch up for Steve to fit comfortably into the sound he and Jeff created. It was so goddamn mystifying, looking back to see Steve swinging drum sticks and sweating through song after song. Never in his wildest thoughts did Eddie think his wet dream would ever come to life. In fact, he was almost upset by the reality of it – Eddie could keep a cap on his feelings when a decent boundary existed between him and Steve. Not when the personification of sex and want was just a feet away from him – Eddie was a weak man like that.

When the kids were around, Eddie was too busy trying to keep up with them to even think twice about Steve (though, even that wasn’t completely true). During band practices before Steve joined, the numbskulls they called friends needed to be watched and stopped before they did anything untoward in Gareth’s home. With the grown-ups of the group, Robin provided a good enough buffer that Eddie got away with minimal conversation and lots of silent staring.

Having Steve just steps behind him, contributing to the music and leading them into the songs more often times than not was a sweet sort of torture that Eddie didn’t think he was going to enjoy. It was the ultimate tease to have Steve’s eyes on his back, following his cues as they moved from bridge to chorus and back again. So many times, Eddie found himself traveling back towards the drum kit during musical solos where he shredded harder than ever before. There was something about seeing Steve look up and smile at him from behind the snare that made Eddie just lose it. His love for music had no right tag-teaming with his uncontrolled feelings for Steve, yet there he was, looking at the boy with moony eyes while playing the best guitar he ever had.

Never mind the fact that Corroded Coffin sounded better than ever. The new dynamic was rich and exciting and alive in a way that Eddie wanted to bottle up and listen to forever. While they weren’t great by any means, they actually sounded good. Good enough, at least, to draw in a few extra drunks during their next Hideout performance.

Eddie started to doubt his ability to actually make it to that performance, however. Every rehearsal they had, Eddie left in a puddle of neediness and anxiety and want. It took him no time at all to get his van parked a safe distance away so Eddie could get a hand in his pants without an audience of people he had to see every day watching him fold under the weight of desperation. He closed his eyes and drew up Steve’s sexiest habit – when he was extra absorb in the song, Steve would toss his head back and close his eyes. It looked like the personification of ecstasy that made Eddie so hard he fumbled notes and forgot lyrics when he had the privilege of viewing such a sight.

It didn’t take much more than the thought of biting the column of Steve’s neck or running both hands through Steve’s sweaty hair to get Eddie to an embarrassingly fast end. His arousal was through the roof and directly tied to Steve Harrington and the dumb way everything about him was drop dead sexy. His arms that were long and muscled, his legs that were strong and powerful against the bass drum, even his stupid face that twisted and contorted into different expressions of uninhibited joy. In his feeble defense, everything Steve did looked like sex. The face he might make after an orgasm, the way he might move his body, fuck – how talented his hands would be.

Stopping that train of thought was getting harder to do now that every part of Eddie was aware of the pent up nature of his desire. Many times throughout their latest practice, the vision of narrowing the space between them and tackling Steve into his drums played on a loop in Eddie’s brain. He was thankful for the fact that his guitar hung low enough to cover his excitement. Despite being a teenage boy for a number of years, Eddie hadn’t ever experience such a loss of control over the higher functioning of his brain. Now that the itch was there, cessation of the pressure and need wouldn’t go away until that delightful scratch came to be.

And wasn’t that something – the thought of Steve wanting to reciprocate such a gesture. Up until they started to play together, Eddie tried not to pay attention to Steve’s stare. He wasn’t all that certain what it meant then – despite striking up a friendship, old habits die hard and the lack of trauma was an easy enough excuse to fall back to old ways. Except, it quickly became obvious when Steve never looked away that the glance was much more complex than that. Eddie thought he’d been in the driver’s seat when ignorance was bliss but that was folly. Playing chicken with heated glances started well before Eddie decided to recognize it. He understood that now.

That knowledge wasn’t nearly as reassuring as Eddie figured it might be, however. Accepting that attraction was mutual meant gritting his teeth and making a move. If he didn’t do something about it, spontaneous combustion was a real worry. Before, Eddie got in and out without the worry of repercussions. He made surface level connections in order to treat intimacy like a transaction. That option didn’t exist with Steve when genuine feelings were involved – at least on Eddie’s end. While he wanted to absolutely destroy Steve until he forgot about anyone but him, Eddie also wanted to hold him tight and kiss his head as they cuddled together afterwards.

Meaning, of course, that Eddie needed to come up with a plan that wouldn’t ruin their friendship and obliterate the band to tiny pieces in the process. Until Gareth came back and was healthy enough to play, Corroded Coffin needed Steve to take control behind the drums. Eddie couldn’t risk imploding the entirety of his life for just anyone. Except, Steve Harrington wasn’t anyone – he was a brave boy with depth and compassion that made his good looks even more attractive. Despite never admitting it before, Steve was what Eddie’s heart wanted.

Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, Steve was having the time of his life playing with Corroded Coffin. His inner jock enjoyed the camaraderie of being around others with a similar goal in mind. It felt like being on a team again, giving him a sense of purpose that had been missing since he graduated. To be a good band, playing off of each other was mandatory – Eddie and Jeff were so good that it was easy for Steve to make up rhythms as he went along to fill in the gaps.

Never mind the fact that watching Eddie play the guitar was a special sight to see. For some reason, the older boy liked to wield his instrument in the comfort of cut off t-shirts that showed off arms fit from playing and trim sides that glistened with sweat after the first few minutes of every practice. His fingers were clever across the frets, moving with a speed that didn’t seem real. Steve always figured Eddie spent extra time working his fingers to be able to move them that quickly – those thoughts always led to ideas that weren’t decent or pure or appropriate to have about male friends. Nonetheless, Steve often had to wipe his chin of drool.

Steve stopped minding the direction his thoughts took when he noticed Eddie’s eyes on him just as much. It was subtle at first – Eddie had great stage presence that gave way to a lot of chaotic movement. Though he trekked all across the floor while they played, the time Eddie spent in front of Steve’s kit started to increase substantially. When they locked eyes it seemed as if the music got a little better. Steve’s hands were wild and free and knew exactly where to go to keep up with the crazy guitar riffs Eddie always came up with. It became increasingly clear that whatever attraction existed was something both of them were fighting against.

That seemed silly, though, fighting something that felt right. After coming to terms with the fact that things with Nancy would never be what he wanted them to be, Steve backed away from dating. He stopped trying to pick up girls at the store and didn’t give into the flirtations that came his way. His heart was in a healing process that took acceptance to finally complete. It was nice to spend time working on all things Steve – understanding what he wanted and how that might look different than his earlier ideas was exactly what he needed. Steve got quality time with himself to find the kind of clarity he never had when navigating the dating world before. He was secure in the fact that having feelings at all was a telling thing. What that meant and how it might look was still something Steve was trying to piece together but he wouldn’t be opposed to doing so with Eddie in the loop. The only problem that remained then, was owning up to scary feelings and doing something about it.

Steve was no closer to knowing how to do that when the night of their first gig together finally came around. There was so much nervous energy welling up inside of him that getting to The Hideout and onto the stage without losing his shit was a total miracle. Not to mention the fact that the kids and Robin and Nancy were going to be in the audience – his perpetual boner for Eddie was secondary when so much pressure weighed him down.

At least, that’s what Steve’s anxiety wanted him to believe. Once he joined Eddie and Jeff backstage, Steve’s mind suddenly went blank – all the conflicts and nerves and thoughts of impressing his friends dripped out of his ears as his brain melted. Eddie’s hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, making his neck look long and inviting. He had on his usual guitar pick necklace and a v-neck cut-off that further enhanced his collar bones playing peek-a-boo out of Eddie’s shirt to make Steve’s mouth water.

Drawing his eyes away from all that pale skin was hard but more than worth it when he noticed the dark eyeliner around the edges of Eddie’s eyes – the black made his brown irises stand out like vivid pools of sand Steve could so easily walk into the middle of and sink down to the bottom peacefully. In that moment, Steve forgot everything but the lucky opportunity he was going to have to see Eddie’s outfit from the back for the entirety of their set.

Getting up onto the stage and behind the drum kit, Steve realized he didn’t have anything to worry about, anyway. From his spot there, the crowd was barely visible – once they started playing, forgetting about all the eyes staring at him would be a piece of cake. Unless any of their friends went out of their way to be assholes and distract Steve on purpose, his ability to play was pretty unimpeded. So much so that they made it through half the set before Steve looked up again to take in the tiny people shifting and swaying in front of the stage.

In between playing songs and trying not to lose his focus staring at Eddie, Steve worked up quite a sweat. The stage was small and all the equipment gave off so much heat that he mindlessly peeled his own sleeveless shirt up and over his head, leaving Steve shirtless from that point on. It was a relief to finally be able to have a bit of cool air circulation hit his flushed skin. While he hadn’t noticed it before, Steve was surprised to see the puddle of sweat he left behind on the floor below him and the drums before him. When he played, the sweat bounced up off the snare, creating a cool effect that added to the show. Plenty occupied with that, Steve didn’t notice Eddie turning to stare at him with hunger in his eyes.

----

It shouldn’t have come as such a shock that Steve in performance mode was so attractive. Eddie had been drooling over the boy for weeks as he worked behind the drums. Yet, something different took over Steve when he stepped up onto the stage to play for an audience. Eddie almost wished he bought into the conventional stuff while Steve was still in school so he could’ve seen him play the multitude of sports the former jock was known for. He was certain that the look of focus and determination that overcame Steve’s face the second the lights lowered and Eddie counted them into the first song, was similar to what he looked like on the court defending the basket and scoring buckets. Though, Eddie wouldn’t have made it through those moments with his sanity intact, so maybe never experiencing it was a good thing.

His mind felt like mush with every passing second that Eddie forced himself not to turn around and watch Steve in action. Luckily, all of the songs on their setlist for the night were ones that Eddie wrote himself. He knew them like the back of his hand, or, at least enough to play them with distraction plaguing his brain. Eddie was proud to have made it halfway through the set before making a complete fool of himself.

He was silly enough to finally turn around and look between Steve and Jeff when he began the opening notes of their newest song. It was the band’s first time performing it live and Eddie wanted to make sure they were all on the same page. His good intentions dropped on the floor, breaking to pieces, when Eddie noticed all too familiar bare skin and chest hair. Eddie still hadn’t recovered from the many hours Steve spent shirtless during their first trek through the Upside Down. So many of his dreams were filled with Steve Harrington’s happy trail and the way his muscled arms looked in Eddie’s Dio vest. None of that prepared him for the sight again, however – not when Steve’s chest was flushed red from exertion and glimmering with sweat and the stage’s low lighting. His chest hair was matted down and thick looking; it called out to Eddie with such a voice that made him want to bury his fingers into the depths of it and not let go. Never mind the fact that Steve’s boyish coif was completely soaked with sweat and slicked back to rest out of Steve’s eyes and face. The entirety of the picture was so much that Eddie’s fingers slipped, causing him to miss a chord for the first time in all of his Hideout performance history.

For the sake of the rest of the song, Eddie turned back towards the audience, quickly playing up the crowd – without the temptation, at least his fingers would do their job and produce the right notes. The song was new, anyway, so no one noticed, probably not even Jeff or Steve. If push came to shove, Eddie could always chalk it up to nerves or something much more believable than the mini heart attack caused by Steve Harrington’s sweaty chest. By the grace of whatever was up there, Eddie got through the rest of the song without anymore hiccups.

His attention, however, started to wander – that brief moment of letting Steve get into his head cracked the foundation of it. For the rest of the set, Eddie fought against himself; one part of his brain was forthright and focused on the music, the other half was buying into temptation. Eddie sang the last handful of songs with his body halfway turned towards the stage on one side and Steve on the other. It was a treacherous thing, to be betrayed by his own mind. The sensation was new yet more than obviously not going anywhere anytime soon. In a lot of ways, Eddie didn’t want it to, either.

Aside from his own preoccupation, Eddie was happy to note that their performance went really well. It was a lot of fun to play for all of the party and a dancing Robin and Nancy in the small puddle of people. Just being on stage was exhilarating but playing to somewhat of a crowd was what live music was all about. The increase in fun Eddie had was noticeable – shifting the head count from five to fifteen made a world of difference. He was happy to note, too, that their friends actually looked like they enjoyed themselves. Eddie only chalked up half of it to the fact that they were out late and at a bar for the very first time.

Walking off the stage post-encore, Eddie’s performance high was at its peak. Between the adrenaline of a show well done and the rush of attraction and arousal that hadn’t left him, Eddie knew the come down was far off, too. They high fived and joked with Gareth who’d been backstage throughout the entirety of the show. It was amazing to bask in success with people who were also breathing hard and riding well above the clouds. Eddie smiled and laughed and noticed that Steve never stopped looking at him.

When he got the chance, Eddie caught Steve’s attention and nodded towards the hallway. Eddie didn’t have to say anything for the younger boy to follow him, a cute but curious expression in place.

----

Steve immediately took what he said back about a band being like a team. There was no way to compare the two things because Steve had never felt so exhilarated – walking off the stage felt big and exciting and important. No trudge back to the locker room after a game ever gave Steve that sort of feeling, even when they won the big ones. It made him wonder if he missed his calling, if maybe, by trying to be cool and fit in, Steve got off the track he was supposed to be on.

Nonetheless, Steve finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be. Being surrounded by noise and playing in front of a crowd was what he wanted to do in the grand scheme of things. He wasn’t all that certain what that meant yet but Steve appreciated the comfort of understanding another piece of himself.

Still reeling from their performance and the distinct way Eddie couldn’t take his off of him (the way they couldn’t take their eyes off each other), Steve was seconds away from plopping down on the couch backstage when Eddie’s gaze caught his. There was something in it that tugged on Steve, pulling him effortlessly in Eddie’s direction. He mindlessly followed the older boy out into the hall where it was strangely silent. After all the loud thumping surrounding him for the last hour, Steve was almost overwhelmed by the quiet. But, his mind didn’t have a chance to grasp onto that because Eddie Munson was suddenly in his space. Much more so than usual and they already lacked quite a few boundaries. Steve had no idea what to think but that wasn’t necessary, either. Before Steve knew what was happening, Eddie’s hands were grasping either side of Steve’s neck. The last thing Steve registered was the cool shock of Eddie’s rings against his skin; then, lips were on his and rationality left the building.

Despite kissing many people throughout his life, Steve was certain he never experienced anything like Eddie’s particular brand of affectionate focus. When Steve didn’t hesitate to kiss back, Eddie groaned into his mouth. Eddie opening his lips gave Steve the perfect chance to slide his tongue along their seam before pressing forward to experience the warm heat of Eddie’s mouth. Their tongues tangling together set off an explosion of colorful fireworks behind Steve’s closed eyelids – if the simple concept of kissing felt so Earth shifting, Steve was almost afraid to find out the sort of feelings more could bring about.

Losing track of himself, Steve was surprised to feel the hard press of the wall against his back. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff. Now that he could breathe again, Steve’s brain rebooted, coming back online just in time to take in the intoxicating smell of sweat and weed and exhilaration that clung to Eddie’s body. His cheeks were red and glistening, probably just as slick and sweaty as the rest of them. It was so much to process yet Steve was so happy to be in the clutch of Eddie’s caress that he didn’t mind the extra effort his brain demanded. Without knowing what the fuck was actually going on, the desperate part of Steve wanted to grip and cling tightly to every detail available. If Eddie’s actions were a fluke and this was the only time he got to experience the rush, Steve needed to remember everything he could.

“You have no right looking as amazing as you do,” Eddie mumbled, his voice rough. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Steve’s while he spoke, like the older boy was unable to pull away or stop touching Steve, even if only for a moment. His eyes were lust blown and hazy when Eddie caught Steve’s glance – there was so much to be read from them. Instead of trying to, Steve grinned easily at Eddie’s admission.

“Have you seen yourself?” Steve asked as he lifted a hand to trail his thumb along the smudged eyeliner. Now that their set was over and Eddie was so close, Steve could appreciate the way Eddie’s eyes seemed to shine with the makeup surrounding them. It was no wonder people fell head over heels for rock stars – they looked damn good making interesting, attention grabbing music. Thankfully, no one else had a shot with the one still pressing him against the wall. At least, Steve was going to make sure that was the case.

There was a moment where the silence overtook them – Steve was gulping Eddie’s presence in while Eddie stared at Steve’s lips. While the things they said weren’t the monumental confessions of feelings that Steve expected, he already felt better knowing Eddie was struggling with the sense of control the same way he was. They were enough to give Steve the confidence to grip Eddie’s hips and pull him into another heated kiss without worrying over Eddie and how he might feel about such a move. The hard press of Eddie’s lips against his own in answer said he liked it quite a bit, anyway.

The next time they broke for air, the backstage door banged open. Eddie tried to pull away, but Steve wrapped both arms around Eddie’s waist, keeping him close. Gareth and Jeff looked at them, then between each other before bursting into a raucous laughter. “We were wondering when you two were finally going to do the thing,” Jeff said, slapping a ten dollar bill into Gareth’s hand. “If you would’ve waited until the gig next week, I would’ve been the richer man.” So overcome by the easy acceptance, Steve could do nothing but laugh in return – leave it to Eddie Munson to have friends that could render him speechless.

----

Eddie had no idea what actually happened or how they got there, but a couple of hours later, he was sprawled across Steve’s mattress with the younger boy over top of him. Since Eddie lost his mind and decided to tear up their usual script, Steve hadn’t stopped kissing him. Not when they fumbled backstage to get their gear. Not when they got the van loaded well enough to drive it safely home. Certainly not when Eddie got behind the wheel in order to head to Steve’s place. Definitely not when they got out and beelined it into the empty mansion to push and press each other up against every surface. Eddie couldn’t remember a time that evening when Steve’s lips weren’t on his or against his neck or skating across his skin. All of the moments since stepping off stage were a blur capped off with the vivid vision of the glorious Steve Harrington.

The best part of making it to the bed was the steady loss of clothing. Steve put his shirt back on to leave the bar, so Eddie was happy to pull the offending garment over his head again. When that chest was revealed for the second time, Eddie didn’t have to avert his eyes or focus on anything else. He got to take in the dark chest chair and hard muscle. Steve’s demobat scars were pretty similar to Eddie’s, so his fingers recognized a lot of the paths as he traced them. Between soft skin and a happy trail that led down into tight Levi’s, Eddie had plenty to explore.

A certain sense of urgency ran through his veins, however. No matter how much Eddie reminded himself that Steve was willingly sharing space with him, the scared little boy in him demanded a staked out claim. Like the physical joining of their bodies in some way, shape, or form was going to solidify the bond that Eddie was certain they’d been working on for ages now. He wanted so badly to keep things slow and enjoy the feast before him, but like most hungry men, Eddie was impatient and wanted everything all at once.

It was hard to decide where to put his hands after Eddie hurriedly pushed Steve’s jeans and underwear down to render him naked. With so much more on display, it was impossible to decide between the gorgeous swell of Steve’s ass or the warm stiffness of Steve’s cock. His mouth watered at the thought of having such unfettered access to a canvas that Eddie had only ever dreamed about before. Luckily, Steve was good at taking charge – without having to say a word, Steve rolled them over so Eddie could wrap his legs around trim hips and hold on for the ride.

And that was the best idea because Steve’s hips immediately started to do such beautiful things. Eddie watched him slide a hand between them to grip both erections in a firm hold. Brown eyes stayed glued to Steve’s arm as it started to move up and down, pumping their cocks together in a teasing tug. The delicate slide of skin on skin had Eddie throwing his head back, a loud moan dripping from his lips. “Fuck, that’s good – “ his voice was shaky and rich, full of arousal that seemed to be leaking from every part of him. Steve’s eyes flashed at the compliment and Eddie realized then that praise was a glorious way to make Steve’s cock throb in excitement. The other boy had even dribbled a bit of pre-cum because of it.

Keeping up the steady stream of compliments and desperate rolls of his hips, Eddie was strung out in no time. There was nothing to be done about the proverbial cocktail of Steve’s cock sliding against his own and the sight of hard muscle pulling and clenching with every move the other boy made. Never mind the fact that Eddie had been a walking hard on for weeks. The fact that his toes were already peeking over that delicious edge wasn’t surprising in the least.

Of course, that meant that Steve needed to be crafty and change things up right before Eddie’s vision whited out and orgasm overtook him. His hips came to a screeching halt, dragging a punched out groan from the pit of Eddie’s chest. Eddie tried not to look too perturbed but he must not have succeeded. Steve leaned down to kiss him with a soft chuckle. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Later, Eddie found himself on his hands and knees at the edge of the bed. Steve was behind him, standing in the obscene spread of Eddie’s legs. After directing Eddie into that position, Steve took his time tracing every inch of Eddie’s body with his lips and fingers. Steve’s strong hands dug into the clenched muscle of Eddie’s shoulders, working out knots and aches while his lips distracted. Eddie white knuckled the sheets as Steve mapped out his spine and the shapely curve of his ass.

Steve spent quite a bit of time appreciating Eddie’s ass.

In fact, he was still there, enjoying the pale skin while the tip of his tongue took Eddie apart. It was shocking, Steve instigating something so personal and intimate. Yet, it wasn’t really, either. Steve was a giver in all senses of the word. He liked to take care of the people that were near and dear to him. Thinking that physical intimacy was going to be any different would’ve been naïve. Despite knowing that, Eddie was still taken aback to realize what that truly meant. Aside from a brief second where Eddie felt Steve thrust against his leg, there hadn’t been another moment of their intimacy that wasn’t somehow focused on Eddie.

“Goddamn you’re so good at that,” Eddie panted through moans that were scratching his throat. He wasn’t all that sure what he was making noises about, anymore – all of the stimuli happening to and around him made Eddie’s skin so sensitive that the slightest brush of the sheets against it made him shiver. Though, it was hard to deny that Steve’s tongue and lips were clever, skilled, and pulling him apart.

----

Steve gave Eddie’s hole one last lick before pulling away. He sucked in a couple of large breaths to relieve the ache in his screaming lungs – not for the first time, Steve wished he didn’t have to take such trivial things into account. If possible, Steve would’ve drowned himself in his own spit and the taste of such a forbidden place on Eddie’s body. Shaking his head of the thought, Steve turned his attention to Eddie’s compliment, instead.

If the older boy knew how many girls asked to be rimmed, Steve was sure Eddie would be shocked. Despite never doing anything physical with a boy, Steve knew enough about the mechanics to puzzle the rest out as he went. Between the porn he discreetly rented from Family Video and the magazines he smuggled back from the city, Steve had the know how to at least not make himself look like a bumbling fool.

Deciding not to verbally reply, Steve ducked down to trace Eddie’s rim again, proving his prowess with actions instead of words. For the most part, Steve wasn’t all that good with the verbal exchanges, and he liked the way Eddie sounded when Steve touched him. In the long run, being more physically inclined seemed like the most pleasurable option – for him and Eddie both.

There was a murmured conversation about condoms and the position they were in before Steve even thought about yanking open his bedside drawer. Steve wanted to make sure Eddie enjoyed himself enough to come back again and again – rushing through prep just to do something wrong was the worst kind of counterproductive. By the time Steve was two fingers deep, he felt good about his decision – Eddie was relaxed and completely absorbed in everything Steve was doing.

With long distracting kisses down Eddie’s back, Steve used his fingers to open him up. The digits were wide and long, perfect for sports and drumming and taking people apart with just his touch. Steve enjoyed the process of learning to navigate what got Eddie going, only to play with that knowledge to drag his own name from Eddie’s red lips in return. With one, then two, and then three fingers, Steve carved out a place for himself within Eddie he hoped to visit and cultivate for as long as the other would have him. He scissored his fingers apart and brushed the tips of them against Eddie’s swollen prostate when the fit became to be too much. It was a glorious experience to watch Eddie’s body spread apart and give into Steve entirely.

When Eddie’s moans turned into “please” and “I’m ready” and “fuck me” Steve could do nothing but obey. He was gentle in the way he pulled his fingers out of Eddie – the gasp that escaped Eddie’s mouth sounded like a sweet mix of wanting more and disappointment because of the empty space. Steve was quick to remedy that, though. He tore the edge of the condom with his teeth, spitting the paper out onto the floor where the package quickly followed. His jaw dropped at the feeling of a hand finally wrapping around his own cock. It was short lived as Steve lingered just long enough to get the condom on and not a second longer. The entirety of his body was already on edge – there wasn’t any reason to tempt fate when the ultimate prize stretched himself out so beautifully before Steve.

Steve kept one hand on the base of his cock while the other gripped Eddie’s hip. His fingers clenched tightly around pale skin that went red under his grip. Secretly, Steve was excited to see if his fingers left bruises behind. Circling the tip of his cock around Eddie’s rim, Steve used the hold on Eddie’s hip to pull back while he thrust forward. There was a tense second where Steve bit into his bottom lip to keep from bottoming out too quickly against the tight muscle keeping him immobile. After a long breath, Eddie relaxed and Steve slid right in. Despite the diligent prep, Eddie was still ruthlessly tight and warmer than anything Steve had ever experienced. “Holy shit, you’re so tight, Eddie – “ The words were gasped out in hopes of distracting himself enough not to come undone right then and there.

Eddie looking over his shoulder with lust blown eyes didn’t help one bit. His stomach tightened considerably, making Steve gasp. Though, Eddie’s “it’s been a while” worked – Steve’s brain came back online and the urge to break apart receded. Instead, an intolerable itch to serve and drive Eddie insane took its place. With both hands on Eddie’s hips, Steve pulled out until just the tip remained and Eddie’s hole fluttered around him. He was slow to press back inside.

Repeating that over and over again, Steve felt Eddie really start to relax around him. The hunch in Eddie’s back evened out and moans replaced heavy breathing. Steve smiled at the vision of Eddie Munson finally giving into him completely. It was so much easier to bottom out, so Steve stopped pushing the breaks so hard and really started to thrust. Every press inside caused a messy slap of skin on skin that echoed around the room. Soon, the symphony of their joining became the only recognizable sound. Much like on the stage, Steve and Eddie made good music together. Steve was certain that with a little tuning and practice, they’d create masterpieces.

As the heated overtaking of Steve’s orgasm approached, the need for closeness got to a boiling point. Steve gave Eddie’s hips one last squeeze before letting go to grab the base of his cock. Eddie was quick to turn and glance at Steve over his shoulder, an adorable sort of panic in his eye. “I just want you to turn over,” Steve reassured softly. To prove his point, he climbed up onto the bed, invading Eddie’s space. “I want to kiss you when I cum.”

The jolt of heat from Steve’s words had Eddie reaching down to grip the base of his dick. It was surprisingly sexy to hear Steve admit to something so simply intimate when he’d just been pummeling Eddie’s ass into the mattress. The innocence in such a ludicrously obscene situation was the perfect counter point to the heat already burning Eddie up. After a couple of long breaths and a quick hold on for dear life, Eddie was in control of himself again enough to roll over onto his back.

Steve didn’t waste any time climbing back into the vee of Eddie’s legs to slip inside again. They harmonized a groan of relief when Steve’s hips settled against the back of Eddie’s thighs. Wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips, Eddie tapped Steve’s lower back with his heel to get him to start moving again. The beautiful boy ripping him to shreds didn’t disappoint. Steve’s hips settled into a glorious pace that would knock Eddie over the edge in no time.

----

Impatient hands dug into Steve’s sweaty hair to tug him down. Eddie closed the remaining space and kissed Steve hard. As their tongues tangled and Steve drove into his prostate with scarily good accuracy, Eddie’s grip on control loosened until he was falling into nothingness with a shout of Steve’s name. The heat in his stomach exploded into his hands and legs and arms and feet – Eddie felt the tingles in the deep roots of his fucking teeth. He was too preoccupied with his own ruin to watch Steve crumble to bits, but from the looks of things, Eddie was going to have plenty of opportunities to make up for it.

He welcomed the heavy sag of Steve’s body; Eddie opened his arms and pulled Steve impossibly closer. They shared space and breath until pulling out and cleaning up became particularly necessary. Eddie wobbled on heavy legs into Steve’s ensuite, sharing the sink and splashing water on each other as lube and sweat and cum was washed from their skin. It wasn’t awkward or stiff in the aftermath and Eddie couldn’t have been happier. Steve pulled him close to kiss him, hugged him tight from behind – every move the younger boy made spoke of affection and contentment, not just lust and attraction. Eddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to take Steve declaring the amazing thing that just happened as a one-time thing.

Eddie was further convinced of Steve’s intention to keep him around when he was pulled back to the bed and deposited there. Steve joined him a second later, tugging Eddie close without thought or hesitation or asking for permission. He simply wrapped his arms around Eddie and shifted until they were pressed together in all their nooks and crannies. Eddie was too weak to stop it and too happy to think about anything other than the soothing pass of Steve’s fingers through his hair.

After a while, Steve mumbled “can I take you on a date?” into the silence of the room. Eddie held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t and nothing happened, Eddie hesitantly nodded his head. While he knew it wasn’t ever a good idea to get involved with a friend that would be devastating to lose, Eddie also understood the notion of timing and grabbing onto something good when it presented itself. He took plenty of careless chances throughout his life – what did it say about him if he passed up something that was well thought out and seemingly right? Not anything worth being proud of, that’s for sure.

When one date turned into two and that cascaded into a dozen more which slipped into a real relationship, Eddie found that being with Steve was a lot like the music they played together. Loud and obnoxious and filled with complication and chaos. Yet, when put together in that delicate sort of harmony, it all worked. Consonance and dissonance balanced each other out to create sound that was beautiful to the right sets of ears.

Like most couples, Eddie and Steve made very little sense together. That was the best part, though – some of the greatest things in life came from the joining of opposites that no one ever thought to put together. Once the combination was made, though, there was no telling where in the sky the limit was. Eddie hoped they never found that boundary – the world was there for the taking and Eddie couldn’t wait to navigate it with Steve by his side.