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#that was plain and simple rock bottom
hellfire--cult · 6 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington {Dark}
Read the first part here.
wc: 19.2 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, primal play, mentions of bones breaking, teeth falling, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, murdering insinuation, thoughts about killing, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story in which none of them are dark or disgusting, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession, pegging, threesome, reader is a sadomasochist, Mafia!Eddie Munson
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, after so much planning, the Black Bunny from the Black Dragon mob makes an appearance to take her precious White Rabbit home.
Author's note: You asked for it, you got it. This is the first threesome I ever wrote in my life so please be kind, if you do not like threesomes do not read, and no, reader isn't the masochistic one here.
A huge thank you to the love of my life, @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this, and taking time of her day for it, and correcting so many things in it. I wasn't confident enough this time to simply post this, so she helped me alot, I LOVE U BBY.
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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Run, Rabbit, Run
The rules are simple:
1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.
2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.
3- No water and no food will be provided.
4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.
5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.
6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.
—--------------------------------------------
The ballroom looks exactly like that last time she saw it, but the perspective now is very different.
She always was at the top of the stairs, looking down at every single person that was willing to participate, to chase after her, to grab her, make her theirs. Pathetic. If only they knew her. If only they wanted her like he does. If only they cared for her like he does. If only they were half of the person he was. 
Eddie.
She giggles at the thought, heads turning to look at her quizzically, only to then gasp as they take a good look, because the tattoo that now lingers on her right arm was enough for them to know who she was. It was enough for everyone in the room to start whispering, to start feeling a chill going down their spine at the mere thought of being in the woods with her. It was enough to make many start to doubt their participation in this year’s Haunting Ground. 
She looked all over, seeing a deer’s head, a plain white face on some, black lace masks, a dog’s leather mask… She snickered when she saw Carver looking at her, his nose completely out of place, not having healed properly. He has balls to be back, she’ll give him that, but she will knock his teeth out today if he dares come between her and this year’s White Rabbit. 
She hummed as she walked to the center of the ballroom, a black dress falling on her body, tight in the upper part while it flowed loosely on the bottom, the length of it only going mid thigh, not reaching her knees. Some black sport shorts cover her underneath, but her feet were completely bare. But the one thing that she was showing off, moving her head side to side, catching everyone’s eyes, gulps being heard all around, was the mask on her face.
A black bunny.
The mask showed her lips, starting from the cheeks and going up to cover the rest of her face. Long black ears went upwards, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, extending her arms towards her back, and holding her hands together for her tattoo to be seen. A Black Dragon. The distinctive mark that shows she belonged to the Boss of the Black Dragon mob. 
And now, everything made sense, everything clicked in everyone’s minds right now. She was going to win, no matter what happens tonight, nobody has the slightest chance. Nobody knew if they should quit immediately, give her the prize on a silver platter, but of course, there were many, mostly men, that wanted revenge. Revenge for wasting their time for three years. Revenge from being hurt and pained for trying to get her. Revenge because they don’t want him to win again. But she was there for a reason.
Because if she was playing, Munson’s Black Bunny, it means that they both wanted the prize.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the top of the stairs. She was waiting. She was already watering at the mouth at the thought of seeing that precious boy. That amazing pretty boy that was covered in freckles, in spots that she wants her tongue to trace. She wants that beautiful face to be covered in sweat, his neck and body full of bruises from the kisses that she wants to give him, mark him, and of course, share him. Oh, how she wants him to be wrecked by him as well. 
She trembles with the thought as her body flushes in anticipation, in the adrenaline, not noticing she was smiling almost maniacally towards the top of the stairs, making everyone eye her up and down once more. She can hardly wait to run her hands through those brown locks, grab onto his scalp, move his head around in any way she pleases… And boy did he sound eager about it as well. She knew about this man, she has known him for a couple of years now, and always found him so pretty, so cute, so angelic looking.
Oh how blind everyone was.
She knew who he really was. She knew he was like her, she knew he was as filthy and evil as her, and she knew Eddie would love him. Eddie will be so happy with him as well. Time can’t pass fast enough, because she has been hypnotized by those honey eyes ever since she met him to know he was the next man to be presented to her as a possible fiancé. The man just looked disgusted as his father talked with hers, but the only thing she could look at was the expanse of his neck, the freckles going down and down into the open collar of his shirt. 
And he was looking at her as well. There was a quick connection, a quick understanding, as a small grin spread on their lips and they were told to go and get to know each other in a private room. And oh man, was he cute. He responded so well when she whispered to him, and he would flinch at the slight touch of her fingertips, a blush on his cheeks appearing as she told him that she had no intention of marrying him, but that she would love to own him. That had sent a shiver down his spine, and when he bit his lip, she knew he was the next one to get. 
Even after she was caught herself, she could only imagine the moments she could spend with him, while Eddie might not be available to do so, and the moments where she could share this sun kissed man with her Demon. She really needed time to go faster because she waited for a whole year for this chase. Cryptic messages were sent to him, to prepare for this trial, and he knew perfectly well what it was, and now knowing that she was going to be a Chaser was the only thing that impulsed him to sign up as the White Rabbit.
Speaking of which,
“Welcome to this year’s Haunting Ground!” Unlike last year, there were fewer cheers this time, and she looked all over to see that many people had left the ballroom, a smile creeping on her lips because of how much fear she provokes in people. That was almost making her feel… excited. 
“Black Bunny, huh.” A woman talks next to her, and she turns around to see her wearing a simple lace eye mask, giving away who she was immediately. The daughter of Tom Holloway, and while he might look like the simple CEO for the New York’s Post, he was also working with the government and some mobs to not let out some news into the light, and covering them with something else that is not as grave, or critical. 
“Holloway.” Heather gives a snicker as she turns to look at her.
“How’s life now that you are someone’s pet?” That made the Black Bunny laugh, giggle, shake her head as if Heather just told the funniest joke in her life, but the other woman was simply looking at her as if she were going insane. Seconds later, her laughter slowly came down, and she leaned her face into Heather’s space.
“I’m far from that Holloway. But since you’re asking, it’s been very… fulfilling.” Heather sends the Black Bunny a disgusted look on her face as she takes a step away but it only elicits a giggle on the Bunny’s part.
“Why are you participating? You got what you wanted, so why not leave this opportunity for someone else?” Heather says and that made something in the Black Bunny snap. How fucking dare she? Why does she fucking think she has a chance? Why does she think that her precious White Rabbit would want her? Or anyone else for that matter? And that’s when the Black Bunny decided something. Something that made her face twist in a way that the baby hairs on Heather’s nape stood on edge at, and she felt her blood going cold as the Black Bunny kept staring at her.
The Black Bunny was not going to let Heather Holloway walk away unscathed. 
Heather Holloway was not even going to be able to walk.
“The rules being said, always remember the small device to call for assistance if injured or if you are trapped or simply want to tap out of the chase.” The Black Bunny’s attention immediately went back towards the stage, her eyes sparkling as she waited, taking a deep breath in as a single spotlight shone at the top of the stairs. “Here is this year’s White Rabbit.”
And a shiver went down her spine as many gasps could be heard through the room. The beauty emanating from this man was inexplicable. She didn’t know what to expect, but she could already feel her wetness sipping through her underwear just at the sight of his body, of his hair that spilled from the mask, from the white rabbit mask that filled just half of his face, and his white ears going upwards.
But oh, what he was wearing. The man was standing, bare feet, with some Arabic Harem see through pants, all flowy in white tulle, hugging his ankles tightly as well as his hips, and the pants had an open slit on the sides of his them, showing off his skin and also, you could see the outline of his underwear, a thong? 
No, a jockstrap. But that wasn’t what caught most people's attention. It was the white tight corset with silver embroidery and pearls that hugged his waist, showing his curves, and it stopped just underneath his pecs, showing his clean shaved chest to the crowd. Coming from the sides, at the top edges of the corset, were two silver straps, going over his shoulders, tightly, and the same see through fabric went all the way down his arms flowing, until they reached the tightness of silver elastic bands onto his wrists.
The man was absolutely beautiful. And he was all hers.
“Oh, what a beauty…” A man on her other side said, his silver horse mask shining with the lights, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel angry at the man, because he wasn’t saying it in a lustful way, he was truly saying how beautiful he was. He was mesmerizing to the eye, and she knew everyone was no longer second guessing if they should indeed participate in the trial. At first many were doubtful because it was her, and there is a big chance that whoever gets in her way will get hurt… But now, seeing this man at the top of the stairs like this, doubt is very present in the room.
Her eyes scanned him, scanned his face, his lips, his eyes that could be seen through the mask’s eye holes. 
Everything about him was just so perfect.
He was such a treasure, so shiny in her eyes that she can hardly believe that at the end of the night she will be able to smear the lip gloss that’s on his lips, make him drool all over himself, make his spent spread on the sheets, maybe her mouth if she wants a taste. 
The freckles were giving him away, people whispering about why he was participating in such a trial, and even more so, be the prize of it. But the answer to all of that should be pretty easy, it should be of common sense knowing the Black Bunny was in the room as one of the hunters. Two and two were adding up in everyone’s minds, and a small smile was painted on her face all the while as she looked up at her ray of sunshine, dressed all in white. 
“Remember, injuring a contestant to the point of death is immediate disqualification and authorities will be called in the spot.” For some reason, the host was looking at her, pointedly, and she could only grin at him, giving a shake of her head. The man looked at the White Rabbit once again before saying, “Run, Rabbit, Run.” 
The lights went off for a few seconds and when they were on again, the White Rabbit was gone. Everyone clapped except for her, eager to start the hunt, and some eager to walk out of it before they were severely injured. The host started guiding everyone out towards the edges of the woods and the Black Bunny was whistling as she walked outside, looking at the all too familiar woods ahead of her. She smiled as she saw the familiar rock to the side, the oak tree that was crooked slightly to the left.
She knew these woods like the back of her hand.
She stood next to Heather Holloway, and on her other side was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty. Unlike Eddie, she wasn’t going to just stand there and take them out. She was going to go for another tactic, one that will make everyone afraid of going in, and she knew it was going to work because people were already looking at her, peeking over the line to watch her every move.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the balcony, seeing the host walking out of it and looking at all the contestants. He gave her one last look, a glance, a warning. What a pain in the ass. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, and if she did, it was surely going to be after this hunt. His arm raised up, gun in hand, and her eyes settled once again towards the woods, a smile appearing on her lips as the adrenaline pumped in her veins. He was so close, so close, and he was hers.
BANG.
A shriek of laughter came out of her lips as she started skipping into the woods and everyone else stood still in horror. She was way too carefree in this. Too confident in herself. Chills ran down everyone’s spine, afraid of going into the woods now because she could be anywhere. She could be behind a tree, on a tree, behind a rock, under it, just plainly anywhere. A few people took a step back from the edge, and slowly started retreating back into the ballroom.
Heather Holloway was not one of those people, amongst others that believed the Black Bunny to be too cocky. Just because she was in the Black Dragon mob, and she was Eddie Munson’s favorite didn’t mean anything. They could still outrun her. Unlike the other times, in which the rules protected her from their attacks, they could hurt her now. But there was also another thing that made people stay in their place. Even if she were cocky, and even if they dared to hurt her, what awaits after doing that was much worse.
They could be subject of Eddie Munson’s torture.
It would be wise to back out. It would be even wiser to just give the White Rabbit to her, but only five people dared to get into the woods, out of the thirty one that were there. These five people that ventured inside were sick and done with the Black Dragon mob. Be it because their businesses failed because of them, or someone was killed by them. If they have to hurt the Black Bunny to get to him, to get him back at all, then so be it.
A man in an owl mask went right, rushing towards the woods as he jumped over boulders, fallen trunks, and his breathing was already heavy. He was scared, really scared, but he recognized who the White Rabbit was. The Emporium this man belonged to was a force to be reckoned with, the wealth the family possesses is immense, and the fact that he can blackmail them with their son was something that he was craving. The millions that could await him from running just a tiny bit, and getting his hands on him.
And poor man, he really was delusional. His face got immediately smashed as two feet collided into it, breaking his nose and front teeth, falling backwards from the impact, dizziness invading his brain as he coughed his teeth out onto the ground, along with his spit. He looked up and the last thing he saw was The Black Bunny, giggling at him as she dangled from a branch. She had waited for him, sitting on that branch, to run by and swing down to strike him at full force. 
She really didn’t intend for him to pass out, only break his teeth maybe, but she might have overdone it. She dropped from the branch with an ‘oof’ sound and she hummed, walking towards the unconscious man and getting the alarm out of his pocket. At least she was nice enough to press the button for assistance. Her head raised up when she heard grunting, somewhere in the woods, but the only female that was in the hunt with her as well, was silent. She knew the other men were going to take eachother out, and having Heather Holloway to herself made her grin wickedly.
She dropped the alarm on top of the man. Maybe she will send him a sorry note later on. Maybe. She turned on her heels and started running again, measuring her breath evenly, and that’s when she saw two men sprawled on the floor as one stood victorious with a branch in his hand. He was breathing heavily and as he turned around, she was in full view of him. It was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty, but she made no move to go at him. 
“I was just after these two.” He says to her and she looks down to see their faces. They were almost smashed in, and gurgles of blood could be heard from their mouths. She looked up at him again.
“They will call the authorities on you. Don’t kill them.” The Black Bunny says softly to the man that was wearing a horse mask. He gave her a small chuckle and shook his head. She knew he wasn’t going to comply with that request. This man’s daughter was kidnapped and killed in front of him by the sons of the White Elephant mob, just out of spite because he had rejected loaning them money from his own company. 
“Holloway went left.” She gave him a final nod, and looked down at the men that were reaching for the assistance button. She walked towards them and snatched each of those devices, the men writhing in despair as they tried to ask for mercy. The Black Bunny threw them across the field and turned to leave the man to do his last business. 
She immediately went left, running back into the woods and then heading north. If she goes diagonally, she will encounter her. The Black Bunny stopped running suddenly as she spotted a small rock on the side, and it was sharp. Very sharp. A smile creeped on her face as she got hold of it in her hand and looked all over it. It wasn’t that big, but it was long, almost like a dagger. 
Heather Holloway was tired of running. There were no signs of the White Rabbit nor the Black Bunny. She was starting to become frustrated, because at least she wanted to try and give some piece of her mind to the cocky Munson slut. She stopped running and started walking now, trying to catch her breath as she kept her senses in complete alert. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how silent everything was. She needed to keep moving, but her sense of direction was completely lost, and that made her nervous.
She heard a twig snap, making her turn around, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Her heart was beating into her chest as she kept walking, fear setting in slowly because everything was just quiet, way too quiet. So she stopped, and tried to sharpen her sense of hearing, trying to listen to the sound of the trees, to the twigs on the floor if they snapped even if a little bit. But there was nothing,absolutely nothing… Until she heard a rustle from underneath a bush that was right next to her.
“I found you~”
The scream that Heather got out of her throat was out of a horror movie. Blood painted the soil red as she fell backwards, pain shooting up her legs as tears started welling up in her eyes. The Black Bunny got out from the bushes with the sharp stone in hand, tainted with the other woman’s blood, a grin on her face from ear to ear. She had cut both of her achilles tendons, just slicing over them completely. 
“WHAT THE FUCK–” Heather yelled as she tried to move her feet but she couldn’t even think anymore, the pain being too unbearable, and her writhing on the floor made the Black Bunny roll her eyes at her as she crouched down to look at her face stained from tears and dirt.
“You’re a drama queen.”
“You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” Heather’s breath was cut off as the sharp end of the rock came in contact with her cheek, and when she looked up, fear trickled all over her body, a cold sweat engulfing her as she saw the most evil eyes, wicked, as they looked at her with widely, threateningly, simply horrifyingly.
“This is what you get for participating, and having the nerve to think that you deserve him.” Heather could only muster a whimpering sound as her tears ran down her face, knowing the damage the Black Bunny had caused, knowing the consequences of her future, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Not anymore. She was breathing heavily as the pain was blurring her vision, consciousness slowly slipping away and The Black Bunny took pity on her, but it was only because she didn't want to be disqualified. She bent down to go into Heather’s pants front pocket, taking the alarm out and pressing on it. 
She looked at Heather as she finally slipped off into unconsciousness. Eddie was going to be so mad at her for this, causing more damage than she should have, but can he blame her? He was very honest with her when he had done the chase himself and how he wanted to kill anyone in his path for her. She scoffed as she looked down at Heather’s feet, knowing they wouldn't be of use any longer, a smirk coming to her face as she ventured into the woods once again, just walking, knowing she was the only one in the game now. 
“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun~” She hummed as she walked by many trees, the corner of her eye seeing the small ‘x’ signs marked on the bark of them, making her smile as she kept a soft tune coming out of her lips. She could basically taste him already, every passing tree letting her know she was slowly reaching him, slowly getting to him.
Once she finally passed the final tree marked with an X, she found a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, the moonlight shone down on his body, his face, his mask as the White Rabbit stood with a smile on his lips. There were no stains, no dirt, no blood on his body, so it meant he didn’t have to run that much because no one actually got near to him. She salivated at how gorgeous he looked under the night’s light, and all she wanted was to mess him up, to ruin him.
“It didn’t take that long.” The White Rabbit says with a soft tone, but she noticed a certain want behind it, a certain desperation, impatient. She chuckled as she took a step forward towards him, her dress moving around as she walked and his gaze followed her silhouette, brown eyes shining at her form.
“Nobody dares to go against me. You should know this.” He gave her a low ‘hm’ in agreement and she was slowly closing the distance, the tension palpable in the air as she took each step. She waited for this for a whole year, planning it with Eddie, making everything go into plan without anyone noticing, without anyone suspecting it. The White Rabbit has the same longing in his face, ready to meet his destiny, his future. And it was a decision that he had made, not one done by his father.
“I do know this, that’s why I trusted you so much with it.” He says in a loving tone, dreamily as the Black Bunny reaches him, just inches away from his body as her body flushed, heat going all over her body at his words. He was so perfect, such a romantic for someone like himself. 
“Are you going to run from me?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. He gives her a grin with a shake of his head. 
“Never from you.” His hands reached up towards his mask, and she held her breath in, containing a gasp at the anticipation of seeing him without it. She was shivering almost, trembling with need, wanting the seconds to go by quicker, but it didn’t matter because the only thing they now had was plenty of time. His fingers touched the bottom of his mask and he finally tugged it upwards, taking it off and throwing it to the side. She sighed at the beauty in front of her. A literal diamond, and he was all hers.
“Steve Harrington… You’re so beautiful.” She saw his face flush, cheeks tinted red as her hand reached up to cup one of them, her thumb rubbing a particular freckle there. Steve raised one of his hands up, pressing it onto the hand that was on his cheek, leaning into the warmth of it. He sighed of relief at her touch, finally having what he had wanted for so long. Ever since he met her almost two years ago, he knew he wanted her to own him, in whichever way possible. So when he heard her bachelors have been going missing, or killed, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t scared, but he was excited to be considered one of them.
Sadness enveloped him when he found out that she had participated in the Haunting Ground behind her father’s back, and was caught by none other than Eddie Munson, the Mafia Boss of the Black Dragon mob. There was no chance for Steve, no way to ever have her the way he wanted to, no way for her to own him the way he wanted to. But he didn’t have to wait for long, because when he received a letter from ‘His father’, he knew it wasn’t actually from him. He knew it was from someone else, and when he saw the plan on paper with a Black Dragon signature at the bottom, he knew.
“Can I see you?” He asks and she gives him a sweet smile unlike what she truly is But he deserved it. He deserved that sight of her. Even if she wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of his mind and soul, she also wanted to care for him like she would a puppy. She let go of his cheek, making his hand drop to his side as she reached towards her mask, pulling it off her face and throwing it away just like he did with his.
You.
“Happy now Stevie?” You smirked up at him and he could only look down at you in pure adoration, in bliss, as if you weren’t really there, as if you were just a figment of his imagination. A small giggle escaped your lips as you looked at him, his brown honey eyes scanning all over you, and your eyes did the same on his body, a hand reaching up to rub against the top of the corset. “This looks so good on you…”
His breathing hitched at that, and you could only grin up at him because like Eddie did with you, and like you did to him, you had studied Steve. You knew what he liked, you knew what he went crazy over, and he was very obvious in those letters that were exchanged of what he desired. You saw his whole body turning red as the jockstrap under his pants became tighter, and you could only salivate at seeing the bulge that was growing bigger each second that passed.
Transvestism: 
Sexual arousal from cross-dressing of the opposite gender.
“Yeah?” Steve’s face was flushed and you noticed the lipgloss on his lips even more now, a very faint hint of red as you could see some eyeliner, very thin, behind his eyelashes that had some mascara on them. It made his eyes pop out even more. Your hand slid up towards his shoulder, pulling him closer to you and your other hand came to rest on his cheek again, making him smile at you. You were just drooling at this point, wetness pooling between your legs. 
“Yeah… Did you follow instructions?” You asked him as his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him and you wanted to moan at the feel of his hardness against your lower belly.
“Feel for yourself.” Steve says in a low tone. Even if he has these feminine attributes, he is still a man, and he is letting you know by his voice, making the heat even more unbearable than before. Your hand left his cheek to glide down his chest, one of your fingertips grazing over a specific freckle that was driving you mad. But your hand kept going its way, touching his waist to then go to his back and lower - that’s when you felt it. Something fluffy, something that you couldn’t help but squish and press forward, a moan escaping his lips instantly and you trembled at the sound.
“Such a good boy…” You say this time as you grip the bunny tail even harder and you start doing small circles with it, pressing it into his body, making his hands grip tighter on your hips as groans are stuck in his throat. He had followed your instructions carefully before the trial. Cleaned himself thoroughly and then started preparing the stretch. He had to rip a hole in his pants to do so because the jockstrap already gave him the opening he needed to follow your orders.
He was wearing a buttplug, and you were already making him see stars with it.
“Do you think Eddie will like me too?” He asks and your eyes sparkle with delight as you let go of his tail buttplug to fully wrap your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, heart beating loudly into your chest from the excitement. 
“Oh, he already loves you baby… As much as I do.” He couldn’t help but smile in delight at your words, melting into your arms as his own wrap around your waist, hands splayed on your back. “You have to say the words Stevie… For how long do you want this?”
His eyes looked for yours, and even in the heat of the moment, even in the situation you were both in and how you got here, the resolution for you two was the same. There is no way you would go back to your past lives. You would be owned, but not caged. It was a very different type of situation than what you both have been through your entire lives, and just like you did, he couldn’t wait to be set free from it all.
“For as long as it lasts.” You let a sigh of relief escape your lips as your face inched closer to his. Steve couldn’t wait for his lipgloss to be smudged by you, so he leaned towards you as well, lips already parting for you. You couldn’t help but take in his scent. Sweet, hints of mint and caramel, and it was just so him. Just like you imagined he would smell like, not at all the person you met two years ago who was wearing a tight black suit with a bitter cologne on.
Your lips slot against his and you two let out a moan at the same time, swallowing it and cherishing them in the depths of your minds. One of your hands finds its way on the back of his neck, running up into his scalp, into those brown locks that he so carefully takes care of. You can taste the strawberry gloss on your tongue as your lips move against his in a soft dance, unlike what you plan to do to him.
And just like Eddie did to you that time, you bite onto Steve’s bottom lip, sharp, and he lets out another moan into your mouth as you feel that copper taste fill your tongue. You pull away from him to look at your work of art as the gloss he was wearing is replaced by your spit mixed with the small bit of blood that came out of his lip. He was almost panting over you and you couldn’t wait to knock the breath right out of his lungs.
A firework was shot in the sky to signal the end of the Haunting Ground. You couldn’t help but smile and run your tongue on Steve’s bottom lip to clean some of the blood off. He was finally yours. The wait was over. 
“Ready to go home pretty boy?”
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Steve’s heart was in his throat as he stood inside the elevator that was going upwards towards his new home. His things were already delivered as he made sure all of his belongings were sent as well as gave his signature on the contract that established that you took full responsibility for him now. He gave his loyalty, soul, mind and body towards the Black Dragon mob. 
He had reapplied the lip gloss that you had smudged previously, and he was still wearing the same attire as he did in the hunt. He was hoping Eddie would like it too, because it wasn’t just you Steve was craving. After he found out you were taken by Eddie Munson, his mind wandered to the fantasy of how you two would act intimately. Was he in control? Were you in control? Did you change it up? For some reason, Steve feels like he was the last piece of the puzzle.
The elevator finally dinged and its doors opened, revealing double dark ones right in front of him. He walked towards them, grabbing onto one of the handles and pulling it down to finally open the door, taking in the environment all around him. It was modern, yet for some reason it felt like a home. It didn’t feel bland at all. He walked in and then closed the door behind him, the dimmed warm lights filled the living room as he took some steps into his new house, into his new life.
“Stevie, baby…” You call him out as you walk down the stairs, having changed into something that knocked Steve’s air right out of his lungs. You had changed into a black latex tube dress that ended at, almost, your inner thighs, barely covering your ass at all. It had cups on the chest, making your breasts more prominent than before, and he was drooling at the sight as the echoing of your heels made him tremble at each step. You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and he now noticed the heavy black makeup on your eyes, the red gloss that was on your lips - he was guessing that everything was planned.
“You look so beautiful.” Steve says to you, making your face flush completely at his words, wetness pooling in your inner thighs and you could already feel it sticking onto your dress as well, because of course, you had to have easy access, so no underwear was always a must in this house. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing your body against his as his hands came to run all over your hips, pulling you closer for his bulge to once again press against you.
“You’re one to talk Steve, god, you’re so pretty…” You leaned up as you pulled his head down towards your face. He thought you were going to kiss him, but instead your mouth moved to the side, going towards his ear. A low breath escaped your lips as you softly whispered to him, a shiver going from the back of his neck, towards the tip of his toes as his heart beat loudly at your words. “And you’re mine.”
Steve was at a loss of words as his cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, feeling heat invade all of his body inside and out. You giggled at his reaction as his bulge twitched against your body. You pulled away from his ear, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He really wanted to kiss you now, but he will always obey your orders. Unless you told him he had free will on his advances, he will let you make all the first moves, but he can express his feelings.
“I want to kiss you…” You hummed at his words, a happy sigh escaping your lips as one of your hands came back to the front to press against his cheek. The fingertip of your thumb caressed, very gently, against his glossy bottom lip, trying to not smudge it away.
“I would love to… But I want him to see you in this too…” And that’s when Steve felt himself freeze. He felt him. He felt his presence as if he were a ghost, an entity, but it was just the power that radiated from his body. He slowly looked up over your shoulder to look towards the open door that led to the dark kitchen. His breathing stopped completely as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of it and there, leaning against the door frame was your owner.
Eddie Munson took a step into the dim light with a small smirk on his lips.
Steve’s heart stopped at the sight before him. Eddie was shirtless, his tattoos showing off all over his torso and arms and he wondered if the back was as inked as the front. His hair was tight into a low ponytail as he took another step towards the two of you. He had black pants on with a leather belt around the hip to keep them in place, bare feet hitting onto the floor below him. You turned around to face him with a smile to your face, your arms not leaving Steve’s shoulders.
“Bunny.” Eddie called out to you and you were almost bouncing in your place as you kept your eyes on him but Eddie’s eyes were still locked with Steve's, who was still frozen in place.
“Look how pretty he got for us Eddie…” You hummed out and Eddie finally stood next to the both of you, and he almost lost control as your eyes and Steve’s looked at him, wide with stars of expectation behind them. Eddie gave you just one look and your arms left Steve’s shoulders. He almost whined at the loss as he gave you one look, his head turning from Eddie only for it to be turned back as a big ringed hand held onto his chin that made Steve’s legs almost tremble as honey eyes clashed into deep brown ones again.
“You were right Bunny… He is very pretty.” Eddie took a step closer to Steve whose face was red from want already. His eyes hazing over with desire, and Eddie could see it. He could see how Steve’s eyelids were becoming heavier as he looked at him. His thumb caressed right below Steve’s bottom lip that made his breathing hitch, a small gasp being heard from him, making Eddie smile victoriously. “I like this on you.”
Steve felt almost overwhelmed already because you two were just invading his space completely. He felt like his breathing was cutting short, feeling as if the walls in the house were getting smaller on him but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. First, he got to taste you. Now, he wants to have a taste of the man that is in front of him. He finally understood perfectly why you had decided to stay with him. 
“And he followed our orders.” You mention as you walk behind Steve, pressing your lower belly against the bunny tail, pushing it forward and making Steve’s cheeks heat up as a moan escapes his lips. It makes him take a step forward towards Eddie, his chest colliding with his. Eddie’s hands catch Steve’s biceps to hold him up as he smirks over his shoulder and towards you who was already grinning at him.
“I think he deserves a reward.” He looked down at the hazy honey eyes again, immediately leaning down with no warning and pressing his lips against Steve’s, getting a surprised gasp from the man followed by a moan as you pressed onto the bunny tail again. Eddie smirked as his eyes stayed half lidded, open just enough to see Steve’s reactions, making the hardness in his pants twitch against Steve’s. He took the opportunity of his moan where he opened his mouth slightly to press his tongue into his mouth, as his hands pressed against his waist, pulling him closer.
Steve felt like he was on fire, and you two were already defiling him, front and back. You were moving the buttplug, rutting into him in small circles, but it was enough for his spongy spot to be rubbed just slightly. He was moaning onto Eddie’s tongue as it almost went to the back of his throat, and how godly Eddie tasted. It was a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, maybe a hint of an afternoon coffee he must have drank waiting for your hunt to be over.
You trailed your lips towards the freckles that were splayed on Steve’s back, your eyes like stars as you slowly started kissing each one as if they were constellations, making Steve shiver as his hands snaked up towards Eddie’s shoulders, finally letting himself go and be guided by his own desire. He wrapped his arms around him, making Eddie chuckle into his mouth at the gesture. Steve definitely was more romantic than you were, and now he understands what you meant when you said you wanted to ruin him. 
Because now he wants to do the same.
“I’m feeling a little left out…” At your voice the two men pulled away, a string of saliva left behind as Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to see you pouting. He knew he was going to see a new side of you tonight, a side that you couldn’t be with him because he wouldn’t allow it and you didn’t complain, but you were very much excited about owning Harrington. You couldn’t help but get giddy at the prospect of all the stuff you wanted to try on him, and Eddie was more than happy to help you choose the best things.
“Oh, we can’t have that. Kiss her Harrington.” Steve immediately takes his arms off Eddie’s shoulders, face completely reddened by the intrusive kiss as he turns around to look at you again. You beam at him as if he were holding the stars for you right now, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his shoulders as he leans down and immediately presses his lips against yours.
You were smirking against the kiss as you felt Eddie’s hands come in between the both of you and Steve’s breath hitched into your mouth as he felt calloused hands, ringed fingers rubbing onto his chest. Your hands went now to cradle Steve’s face, pulling him deeper into you, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he let a moan escape his lips. Eddie smirked behind him, and his fingers rubbed onto one of Steve’s nipples, hardening the bud there as he could feel Steve pressing his ass against his bulge, the buttplug pressing deeper into him.
“He’s such a slut.” You say. You had pulled away from the kiss the moment you felt an even deeper moan coming from Steve and you wanted to see what Eddie was doing to him. 
“I agree.” Eddie suddenly pinches Steve’s hard nipples, and the brown haired boy’s eyes widened with a gasp at the sensation, his whole body on fire as he throws his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. 
“God–” Steve moans out as another roll of Eddie’s fingers press onto one of his nipples. His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, making him look at you. His face flushed a deep red as you were almost glaring at him.
“There’s no god here. Only us.” At your display of dominance, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants, pressing himself harder against Steve. He wasn’t into it if it was done to him, but seeing you doing it to someone else… He finds it too erotic. Steve moans your name, making you smile lovingly at him again.
“And what about me?” Eddie asks Steve as he pinches onto his nipple even harder this time, making Steve hiss.
“Eddie!” It came out as a whine, and you felt Steve’s bulge pressing onto your lower belly. You could feel your wetness falling down your inner thighs as you kept looking at him. Your eyes darted back towards Eddie who had a smirk on his face as Steve was turning into a puddle in between you both.
“Bunny, let’s stop playing.” You giggled in delight as you ripped yourself away from Steve, making the boy whine at the loss of your warm body against his, and then he couldn’t even finish the thought that he was turned around to face Eddie again. Steve’s eyes widened when Eddie bent down slightly to wrap his arm around the back of Steve’s thighs.
“What are you–” And just like that, Steve was lifted up into the air with ease, as if he were a feather despite the fact that he knew he was probably at the same weight as Eddie was. But the long haired man was stronger than he thought as he dangled over Eddie’s shoulder and arm. Eddie was holding him with his arm, pressing against the back of his thighs still so Steve wouldn’t fall. You looked at Steve’s face and you couldn’t help but smile wickedly as you saw the fucked out face that was on display for you. You knew Eddie shirtless was going to rile him up, but making Eddie show him just how strong he was… You knew he was going to go insane.
Sthenolagnia: 
Sexual arousal to muscles and, or, displays of strength.
“Aw Eddie, he already looks like he is going to cum.” You said with a teasing tone as Eddie started going up the stairs and Steve only let out a small whine at your words. He really did look fucked out, and he was getting off just from Eddie’s strength. Suddenly, Steve jerked forward in Eddie’s hold, as he chokes out a moan in surprise, a loud smack vibrating through the home. His left ass cheek was stinging now from Eddie slapping him there. 
“We have a long night ahead of us.” Eddie said and you giggled behind them as he finally reached the top of the stairs without even needing to catch his breath. It made Steve’s dick twitch to not hear a single pant, heavy breathing of some sort, nothing. Proof that Eddie was very strong.
Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you followed Eddie through the hallways of the home. Your hand raised up to caress Steve’s cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and you could swear you heard a small whimper get caught in his throat from your touch. Eddie opened the door to his room, and immediately placed Steve back on his own two feet. He took the opportunity of closeness to place a small kiss on Steve’s right shoulder.
Steve gasped slightly at Eddie’s action and then locked eyes with him. Eddie’s gaze shifted towards the room and Steve decided to finally turn around to take it all in, his eyes widening. An Alaskan king bed was in the middle of the room, black comforters all over, a tall ceiling that had wide windows on the side, black curtains draping over them. His eyes roamed all over to find two doors, one for the walk in closet, and the other for the main bathroom. Candles were over many small tables and dressers that decorated the big room, and he could see the guitars displayed on the wall.Steve’s heart melted a little bit to see that it wasn’t just an empty basic room.
He took a step inside to look at one dresser in particular to find, surprisingly, some art supplies. He smiled when he realized that there’s also a trace of yourself in this room. This wasn’t just a temporary home at all, this was yours and Eddie’s home. This wasn’t just a hollow vessel to keep him locked up. This was his freedom, and he cannot wait to put a piece of him inside of it as well. He felt a kiss on one of his shoulders and he looked to his right to find you smiling up at him.
“Welcome home Stevie…” You said in a sultry tone to him, making his eyes glint towards you, lust clouding his mind again, pushing the soft feelings aside until a later time. He almost jumped when he felt another pair of lips kissing his left shoulder this time, his head turning to see Eddie smirking at him. His lips then dove towards the crook of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him groan at the feeling. You smiled at your partner’s actions, and you moved more towards his front to then lean towards his collarbone, placing kisses all over it, making Steve let a sigh of bliss out of his lips.
Eddie smirked as his tongue started licking along Steve’s pulsepoint and one of his hands went towards one of Steve’s ass cheeks, gripping it tightly, making the brown haired boy gasp through his strangled moans, not wanting them out just yet. Your tongue traced from one freckle to the other, freckles that covered his chest, small ones, big ones, you were obsessed with them. You gasped onto Steve’s skin when you felt Eddie’s hand on your own ass as well. 
Steve suddenly yelped, making Eddie’s head get off the crook of his neck to look down at what you were doing, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your tongue was licking over one of Steve’s nipples in an apologetic manner, and Eddie could only guess that you had bit him. But Eddie could still see the grin that was on your face, a grin he never saw before but he was pretty sure that it was the same one he had whenever he fucked you how he liked.
“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you Stevie? I can feel your dick twitching against me.” You said to him, and Steve only nodded dumbly, looking down towards you with hope in his eyes and you could only smile as your eyes almost widened at how excited you were. You waited one year to finally show your other side, and you were going to not waste a single second of it. 
Your mouth latched onto his other nipple, giving it a few kitten lips, and then you finally let your teeth sink into the flesh of the nub, biting harshly on him as Steve threw his head back with widened eyes as a moan escaped his throat, the grin widening on your lips at the sound.
Eddie chuckled at how dominant you were, but he felt a little bit left out from the action, so his hand lifted up from your ass to land a loud smack against the tightness of your ass, and you let out a strangled moan, letting go of Steve’s nipple to let it fall from your lips. Steve’s head looked down at you and he was surprised to see your eyes half lidded, almost teary. And that’s when Steve understood it, a grin spreading on his lips as he locked eyes with Eddie’s.
SadoMasochism:
Sexual Arousal on causing pain as well as receiving.
Eddie’s hand ran towards your scalp and he suddenly gripped your hair to rip you away from Steve harshly, making you whimper at the pain, a gasp escaping your lips as you tumbled back towards Eddie’s chest. He leaned down towards your ear to give you a small bite on your earlobe and Steve’s face flushed as he watched you both. 
“Now Bunny… How about we take off that pretty dress you’re wearing?” You nodded rapidly at your partner’s orders, not only because he was your master, your owner, even if it were just that. But because he didn’t see you as only a possession, as ‘something’ to control. You both liked the play of it and it seemed Steve liked it too.
Eddie immediately started working on the zipper that was on your back, pulling it all the way down slowly as Steve waited patiently from where he stood in front of you, his hands to himself. Eddie could only smirk as he felt your shiver when his hands started gliding all over your back, and then towards your shoulders, underneath the straps of your dress, to then slide them off as he moved his hands on your arms.
Steve’s breathing stopped as the dress started falling off from your body, Eddie helping to pull it down from how tight it was. Steve could only look at your breasts, noticing some bruises here and there, making him gulp. His dick jumped up at the thought of Eddie roughly devouring you, and all he wanted now was for you to do the same to him. He wanted you to mark his chest, his arms, his neck, his ass, everywhere. Steve needed your mark on him, desperately.
Within a few seconds, you were bare in front of both men, heels coming off as well. You shivered at the cold of the AC hitting against your nipples, hardening them immediately. You stepped away from your dress for Eddie to kick it away. His hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, moving towards your front, making your breathing hitch slightly, and one of his hands moved to your breast, while the other started traveling south.
You sighed a moan out of your mouth when his fingers pinched your nipple, making your body twitch at the feeling. Eddie chuckled against your ear, his other hand reaching your folds. He couldn’t contain his chuckle when he felt just how drenched you were - it was smeared all over your inner thighs, and you moaned when he ran two of his fingers through your slit, reaching your clit. He harshly pressed his digits against your nub, making you whimper this time at the pain and the pleasure of it. 
“Eddie…” You moaned out his name and Steve wanted to reach his hands towards you, but he knew better than to do that when Eddie was in the room. You were still his after all, and everything Steve could do to you was only allowed if Eddie said so.
“Now here is what’s going to happen. We are going to lay down…” As he said this, he guided you backwards and your eyes were still locked on Steve, a wicked grin appearing on your lips as you were manhandled onto the bed, being thrown in the middle of it by Eddie. You landed with a small ‘oof’ sound as you bounced on the mattress, turning to look towards your partner. Eddie’s eyes turned towards Steve, a smirk appearing on his lips. “And you will show me how good you are Harrington…”
“What–”
“Fuck her.” 
Steve’s eyes immediately widened, not fully processing what Eddie was asking of him. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation as you moved to rest on your elbows to be able to look towards Steve. You wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, the poor guy probably wasn’t coming with the expectation of fucking you, but rather getting fucked. You raised your legs, bending your knees to then spread yourself for him, and Steve’s gaze quickly shifted to the wetness between your legs.
“C’mon Steve… I’m waiting.” You moved one hand towards your cunt, using your index and middle finger to form a V-Shape, separating your lips to show yourself to him. 
Steve’s dick bobbed in his jockstrap, and his mind was already fuzzy with the idea of being inside of you, so his hands reached backwards, and there was a small button on his pants, right above where the bunny tail was, securing the hole he had made on them. He popped it open for his pants to fall to the floor immediately, pressing against the fabric with one foot to pop one out of the elastics, doing the same with the other. 
Eddie’s eyes looked all over him, mouth watering as he scanned his body, reaching towards the elastic of the jockstrap, making Steve gasp at the touch. Eddie smirked at the reaction, pulling at the elastic and then let it snap harshly onto the man’s skin, making him whine with a moan at the pain. Steve took the sign and proceeded to take the jockstrap off, having a hard time bending down because of the corset, so he had to crouch to completely take it off. 
Steve stood up and your eyes scanned the length of his dick, eyes widening when you saw that the rumors of Steve Harrington being big were true. You licked your bottom lip as you salivated with the need to taste him, but that can wait for another time. Steve’s hands went to his corset but Eddie was quick to grab onto his wrist, making Steve snap his head towards him with widened eyes.
“Keep that on.” He almost growled and Steve trembled at the dominance of the man, precum already leaking from the pink tip of his dick. He gave Eddie a nod and took a step towards your impatient figure only to be stopped again. “Do not finish inside of her. That’s something only I can do until I say otherwise.” 
At that, Steve couldn’t help but give Eddie a wicked grin, surprising the long haired man.
“Will you finish inside of me as well?” Steve purred and Eddie wanted to laugh at how delighted he was. This man was starving for you, and now he wanted him as well. 
“Only if she lets me.” And that made Steve remember that he is yours, not Eddie’s, turning his focus back to you. You had a smirk on your face as your fingers were rubbing small circles on your clit as you looked at the two men. All their small talk, acting as if you were not in the room, only spiraled you more into the lust that built inside your chest.
Steve walked towards the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the soft mattress as he crawled between your legs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your wet cunt, and he couldn’t help himself as he  leaned his head down, wanting to taste even if just a little bit, only for his hair to be grabbed roughly. He yelped as he was pulled upwards, his back clashing against a chest. Eddie had crawled on bed right behind Steve when he saw the man was about to dive into your cunt, something he had not ordered Steve to do.
“I said fuck her, not eat her out.” Eddie said in his ear, in a growl almost, as he pressed his lips against it. At Eddie’s command, you whipped your head to glare at him over Steve’s shoulder, surprising him as you groaned in displeasure at him. He let go of Steve’s hair, squinting at you as you were defying him for the first time.
“He is mine.” Steve’s body burned at your words and how protective you were being of him. Eddie cannot command everything for Steve, and he has to be respectful to your wishes, but Steve can only guess the punishment that awaits you later for it, and that was making him even harder than before. 
“And you are mine.” Eddie growled back at you and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his eyes. Your hand left your clit instantly, knowing that without his permission you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, your dominance going back and forth, switching on and off depending on the man that talked to you. 
Steve choked on his saliva when he felt a hand engulfing his cock, and he looked down to see Eddie’s tattooed knuckles, slowly, and just barely, moving back and forth on him. Your mouth watered at the scene in front of you, making your legs spread even wider and as you whined, your hips started thrusting upwards in short little jumps, telling the men that they were leaving you aside again. Steve gazed down at you before his eyes moved to look at Eddie.
“Eddie, I want to– Can I?” Eddie smirked at the politeness that Steve has with him, and he pressed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder blade, pushing him forward and the brown haired man got the hint. He crawled two more steps towards your raised hips, and Eddie helped him to line his cock in the slit of your entrance. Steve moaned when he felt the tip dampen with your slick, and you whimpered with the need of more. 
“C’mon big boy, show me what you got. Fuck her like you mean it.” And just like that, Steve’s control snapped at the order, his hands flying to grip onto each side of your waist, making you smile, your upper body hitting the mattress to let Steve hold your hips up. He looked truly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but clench on nothing when you saw both men looking down at you, one dressed in white, the other covered in dark tattoos with black pants.
They were the complete opposites.
Your head fell back as your eyes widened at the stretch. Steve had started pushing forward into you, his nails digging into your skin, his eyes clenched tightly at the feeling. You were tight. How could your pussy be this tight? It was unreal, and Steve’s mind was completely foggy now. He didn’t know what was real and what was not, and the further he sank in, the more he started coming back down to the real world. 
“Fuck–” Steve moaned out and Eddie smirked as he looked at how the two of you were slowly being connected. He had to admit that Steve’s dick was big, and by the look of your expression you were completely loving the feeling of him. Eddie encouraged Steve to move faster by grabbing the bunny tail, the buttplug, and pushing it forward, making Steve’s eyes snap open as a loud moan escaped his lips from the sensation of both of his ends being stimulated. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief how good he was feeling. It was worth the wait, it was definitely worth the wait. Steve kept moving forward thanks to Eddie’s help and he snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and the two of you let out a loud moan as Steve held onto you. Eddie’s hand left Steve’s bunny tail and the latter man let out a sigh of relief, but also of discontent. 
“Move Harrington.” Steve nodded at that, moving his hips backwards, not even letting you have a moment to adjust because that’s just how you liked it. You liked the pain of the stretch. You liked the shift from pain to pleasure. Steve snapped back into you, quick, surprising you as you felt him hit at the very deep of your gut, the slight pain that came with it. 
“Holy shit!” You couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of someone else inside of you, someone else other than your partner, and it feels as if you were finally complete. Steve was something you needed, the piece that was missing between you and Eddie. 
“Does he feel good, baby?” Eddie purred from behind Steve, looking at you over the other man’s shoulder as he saw how he kept moving back and forth, hips snapping against yours, your breasts bouncing in rhythm at the quick pace. You nodded dumbly as your eyes stared towards the ceiling in a hazy state, fluttering as moans slipped out of your lips.
“Fuck, yes, yes– He feels so good, you feel so good Stevie–” You choked on a moan as Steve slowed his pace to pull all the way out, only to slam himself back in in a quick and deep thrust. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe that Eddie got you like this almost every night for a year already and he can’t wait for himself to experience it as well. 
Eddie could only lick his lips as he saw Steve’s dick disappear inside of you, only to reappear again and then repeat that cycle. Your body was bouncing against the movement, and he smirked down at you as your eyes locked with his. His own dick twitched in his pants;he would only be able to hold back for a few more minutes, and he was surprised by Steve’s movements. He did in fact tell him to fuck you like he meant it, and he was doing exactly that. 
“And you, Steve? Does she feel good?” Eddie whispered in his ear, to then kiss just below it and then follow down towards his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, making Steve moan as he nodded, his thrusts not once faltering in movement even if his mind was being overstimulated by the two of you. He was loving Eddie’s attention, but even more the fact that he was watching him fuck you. His dick twitched inside of you as he felt Eddie’s eyes once more on the place that connected you to Steve.
Voyeurism: 
Sexual arousal from watching others while naked or having sex, or being watched.
“She feels good, she feels perfect–” You were staring at both men, moans leaving your mouth as the slapping of skin was heard all around the room, the wetness of your cunt making obscene sounds as well that only made you become even filthier. Your legs were already cramping, helping you to keep your hips up. Eddie chuckled against Steve’s neck, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to start sucking on his skin.
“No.” You sharply said in between your teeth, almost in a hiss through your groans. You felt Steve halt on his movements, slowing down so you could talk and Eddie let go of Steve’s neck as he stared down at you. “Do not mark him.”
“My bad, Bunny.” He was going to respect the ownership status. He was the only one that could mark you, and you were the only one that could mark Steve. His attention was back on Steve with a smirk on his face. “Now I’m curious about how you feel, how you clench, how you tighten around my dick…” 
“W-Wha–?” He couldn’t even finish his answer when he felt Eddie’s hand grip the bunny tail again, but this time he pushed forward and then backwards, just slightly, not letting the buttplug come out yet, but it was enough to make it have a small thrusting motion. A choked moan slipped out of Steve’s lips as his thrusts stopped completely. Eddie growled and he raised his hand to slap Steve’s thigh harshly, ordering him to keep moving. Steve groaned in a whimper as he started following Eddie’s movement on his buttplug and your eyes widened at Steve’s expression.
He looked wrecked. 
You wanted to see more of it, you needed to see more of that face, and you wanted the tears to roll down of his cheeks, to become so overstimulated that he cannot help but scream for mercy. You clenched around Steve and his eyes widened as he felt the burning on his belly beginning to form. It was happening way too quickly for his own liking and he shook his head, trying to move back from you.
“I– I’m sorry, I’m so close–” And you couldn’t help but smile lovingly because Steve had followed instructions. You commanded him to not touch himself for a month, and you knew that was a challenge but now you knew he followed the instructions because of how fast he was already close to cumming. 
You immediately put your upper body back down on the mattress, making Steve slip out of you. He whimpered at the loss of your heat and you sighed of relief as your hips and legs relaxed again. Eddie took this chance for his other arm to wrap around Steve’s front, over his clavicle, Eddie’s hand grasping onto Steve’s opposite shoulder, pressing him tightly against his chest. Eddie’s movements never stopped on Steve’s backplug, making the man whimper and his hands made their way towards Eddie’s forearm for support. 
“Such a good boy for us Steve.” Eddie said in an alluring tone against Steve’s ear, who was moaning at the feeling of his prostate being rubbed on. His dick was bobbing up and down, the increasing sensation of release creeping closer and closer. You quickly moved now, turning to lay down on your stomach, raising your upper body up and coming face to face with Steve’s dick. 
“Want to taste you my sweet boy…” You were grinning as you stuck your tongue out to give Steve a kitten lick at the red leaking tip and Steve almost jerked forward at the sensation. Eddie’s hand that was on his shoulder moved to grip tightly on Steve’s jaw, turning his head to face him. Eddie’s lips clashed against the other man’s as you smirked up towards them, opening your mouth to take Steve into your mouth, your tongue licking all over the head of his dick as Eddie kept pressing onto Steve’s buttplug.
Steve was a moaning mess, his hips bucking back and forth onto the slickness of your tongue and onto the friction of his buttplug. His mouth was invaded by Eddie’s tongue and that’s when the elastic band in his belly snapped, completely, a loud whine escaping into Eddie’s mouth as you let Steve fill your mouth, the taste of him driving you crazy already. It was sweet, not even a tiny bit sour or bitter. 
Eddie pulled away from Steve’s lips to hold him still because his body was jerking at every spurt of cum that left him. He looked down towards you and his own dick wanted to rip out of his jeans as Steve finally relaxed on him and you took your mouth away from him. Steve followed Eddie’s gaze as he breathed heavily and he couldn’t believe his dick twitched when you opened your mouth to show his spent to both men. You closed your mouth to swallow Steve’s cum. 
Eddie immediately reached down to wrap his hand around your neck, making you chuckle in pleasure as he pulled you up, chest coming in contact with Steve’s sweaty one. Eddie instantly pulled you into a deep kiss so he could taste Steve on your lips. The brown haired man shivered at Eddie’s eagerness and his body flushed in heat as he was still panting from how intense his orgasm was just now. 
You moaned into Eddie’s mouth as he swirled his tongue against yours and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness that still lingered there. He pulled away from you and then his hunger got the best of him as both of his hands went towards the front of Steve’s corset, wanting to rip it open, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with the metal clasps. He groaned as he quickly started undoing the last of Steve’s clothing. 
Steve’s eyes widened at how fast Eddie was working on his corset and then he saw how you moved your hands around his waist in order to reach behind him and towards Eddie to help him out. Steve was looking at your face, and you reached up to give him a soft kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t help but notice the remaining taste of him in your mouth, a soft groan escaping him. You started undoing Eddie’s belt, pulling the clasp open to then move onto his button and zipper as he finished undoing Steve’s corset.
Eddie immediately ripped it open, Steve letting out a sigh of relief, not having noticed how tight it had been. By ripping it open, it made the straps of chains on his shoulders slide down. Your hands left Eddie’s waist and you quickly moved away to crawl towards a night table, making Steve whimper at the loss of you. Eddie tugged onto the corset, making Steve’s arms move backwards in order to discard the clothing off, the wide silver elastic bands that pressed on his wrists finally coming off, and letting Eddie discard that piece of clothing to the side as well. 
“On all fours.” Eddie ordered and Steve knew better than to go against that order as he saw you pull a bottle of lube out of the drawer, which made Steve’s softening dick begin to grow hard again. He let out a shaky breath as he let his body fall forward, both hands pressing against the mattress as he presented himself towards Eddie. A blush spread on his cheeks at how vulnerable he must be looking, but that was fine - it was just you and Eddie, no one else. 
You bit your bottom lip as you crawled on the bed to be kneeling next to Steve. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the bunny tail sticking out of Steve’s ass, and you looked at Eddie with excitement written all over your face. Eddie then grabbed onto Steve’s buttplug and slowly turned it, making Steve whimper at the feeling of overstimulation. You lifted the bottle of lube and let a small amount drip down where the plug was connected to Steve’s asshole.
“Relax baby, don’t clench.” You soothed Steve with your soft tone of voice and you could hear him taking in a deep breath before then letting it out. Your hand went towards the small of his back, rubbing small circles on it with your thumb as Eddie twisted the plug a bit more to spread the lube. He then started pulling backwards, and he could see Steve’s rim being stretched as the base of the plug began to show. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” He couldn’t help but feel the stretch of it. He knew that he was fully prepared inside, but his rim had already relaxed into the normal state. Eddie moved slowly, and then when the base of the plug was almost all out, he decided to stay put for a bit, twisting it slightly in order to adjust the rim in a larger size again. You licked your lips at the sight, completely hypnotized by it and how careful Eddie was being. Your heart was beating on your chest because of that action, and you smiled at it.
“You’re doing so good Stevie.” Eddie let out as he began to pull the rest of the plug much easier than before. He smirked knowing that he didn’t need preparation at all because the length of the plug was rather large. He experimented on moving the plug back inside Steve a few times, and he could feel how easy it was. Poor Steve felt himself growing crazy as his dick sprung back into hardness. He needed more. He didn’t want the buttplug. He needed something to go even deeper.
“P-Please…” He moaned out and that was Eddie’s snapping point. He had been patient and careful, and the two of you had had your fun. It was Eddie’s turn. He pulled the buttplug out of Steve, completely, and the other man let out a sigh of frustration. You stared at Eddie as he dropped the plug on the floor and he pulled himself out of the bed to finally rid himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, red from how edged he already was, and you wanted to help him out so badly.
Eddie circled the bed, giving your cheek a soft caress as he passed by and you moaned in delight at that, handing him the bottle of lube. Steve’s eyes widened as he finally saw Eddie’s cock, and he wanted to take him into his mouth really badly. His eyes were teary as he snapped his head back to look at you with puppy dog eyes. 
You understood what he wanted instantly, and you giggled, shaking your head at him.“Later baby.” 
He whined when you forbid him of that right now, but he was going to dutifully do as you say. His eyes went back to Eddie who was getting himself comfortable in the middle of the huge bed, his back resting against the pillows and he was barely laying down. His dick was almost pointing at him from how hard he was and how curved it was. 
“Ride me Harrington.” Steve shivered at the command, and as if his body was taken over by pleasure and lust, he started crawling towards Eddie, his face coming close to his dick and he almost went against what you said. But he closed his eyes,not letting himself be blinded by desire before looking back at Eddie. He crawled over his body, only to be stopped once more by Eddie putting a hand on Steve’s chest.
“W-What?” He asked and the long haired man smirked as he nodded once at him.
“The other way.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, gulping loudly but following orders. He crawled backwards in order to turn around in all fours and then started going back towards Eddie, this time his ass facing him. Eddie licked his lips as Steve’s legs started spreading, his knees opening as he slid closer towards Eddie, finally resting against Eddie’s thighs. Steve heard the bottle of lube being opened and then the coldness hit his asshole again, and he knew it was already going inside of him thanks to the gape the plug created on him.
“Eddie is going to make you feel so good baby.” You cooed at Steve who was blushing your way. You had decided to sit on the bed, one arm behind so it would help you support your body, legs spread again as you rubbed small circles on your clit. 
“Come here big boy.” Eddie had pulled himself forward to press his hands on Steve’s chest in order to make him move backwards. Steve followed, his position changing completely as he helped himself with his hands behind him, on each side of Eddie’s ribs, pressing his feet against the mattress in between the other man’s spread legs, lifting his hips up. Adrenaline rushed all over Steve’s body, knowing that once he started going down, Eddie would start going inside of him.
You bit your lip as you saw Eddie lining his dick on Steve’s entrance as he stroked himself a few times. You saw Steve’s excitement splayed on his face as he let himself go down and his eyes widened towards the ceiling as he felt Eddie’s tip start to stretch the rim of his asshole even more than the buttplug did, and he noticed that Eddie had covered his dick in lube because it was sliding easily inside of him.
“FUCK!” Steve yelled as he kept sinking himself down on Eddie, not wanting to stop, the pain mixing with pleasure as he felt the pressure growing on him the deeper Eddie went. Eddie had to throw his head back onto the pillows, his body growing hotter as pleasure slowly started enveloping his mind.
“Just a bit more Stevie…” You said in a soft reassuring tone and that made Steve nod as he took another deep breath in to let himself sink even further down. It was as if there was no end to Eddie’s dick because he just kept going down, and down, and he was being stretched in places that the buttplug didn’t reach. Steve’s dick was already leaking precum again as it laid on his stomach and you were salivating with the need of tasting him again, but you opted to keep rubbing circles on your clit to keep you on the brink of your climax. Moans escaped your mouth as groans escaped Eddie’s and whimpers escaped Steve’s.
Steve finally slammed himself down, making Eddie bottom out in him and Steve let out a strangled moan, in pain, in pleasure, he didn’t know. Eddie was too deep inside him and he was touching places no man, dildo or plug touched before. The tattooed man leaned upwards to press a kiss on Steve’s back, trying to get him to relax because he had tensed his muscles at the friction. 
“Move when you are ready darling.” He softly said to Steve and that made the other man sigh and completely relax on his hold. He felt safe, secure, and he knew that the pain would go away at some point but he also loved it so he didn’t care if it didn’t. He pressed on his feet for impulse and he raised his hips up, just barely, and moved down again. He groaned at the feeling and then he repeated it as Eddie’s tip and length started rubbing against his prostate.
“Oh god…” His face became flushed as the pleasure started taking over, his belly turning as he started going upwards even further than before and then going back down again. You were amazed by how fast he had adjusted to Eddie. You had to prepare yourself for a whole week to take Eddie into your ass for the first time, and even with that you took some minutes to be able to adjust to him.
Eddie’s hands came to grasp on Steve’s waist as the brown haired boy started moving even faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, throwing it back in pleasure. Steve felt his dick hitting him in his stomach each time he bounced on Eddie, hearing the man groaning behind him as loud degenerated moans started escaping Steve’s lips. These moans were completely different from the ones that he let out when he was fucking you. 
You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face heat up at the sight before you. You saw how Eddie suddenly raised his hips up, putting his weight on his feet and it made Steve stop bouncing as his hips were raised up, Eddie’s dick pushing deep into him. Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eddie chuckle behind him, and that’s when his whole mind was thrown out the window. He didn’t know who he was anymore as Eddie started fucking into him in a brutal pace.
“H-HOLY SH-SHIT!” Steve almost screamed those words as his head was thrown back at how quick Eddie was moving into him, his dick bobbing all the while as he kept himself up for Eddie to keep thrusting freely at his pace, the noises of skin slapping filling the room.
“Oh my god…” Your voice was dry as you looked at how Eddie was fucking into Steve, hungrily, and you could hear him groan, sometimes even moan under Steve. “How does he feel, Eddie?” 
“Fucking amazing.” He said in a growl and he knew he was answering the question he asked Steve minutes ago. He could hear Steve’s choked moans above him and he smirked at the sounds, knowing he was about to make them worse. He impaled himself inside Steve, making the other man moan loudly as his eyes started tearing up from the feeling. He started pulling his hips back down onto the bed, making Steve follow him. Steve was confused because he was feeling good, breathing heavily, turning his head to his side to talk to Eddie.
“What happened?” He asked and Eddie only chuckled.
“Bunny, ride him.” 
Steve’s eyes widened as his head snapped at you who was already getting up on the bed with a smile on your lips, excited and Steve felt like he was going to die right then and there. Your legs spread the farthest of the three of you, planting one foot on each side of Eddie’s hips, your ass facing Steve. You crouched downwards, and you spat on your hand, to then wrap it on Steve’s dick, pumping it a few times.
Steve moaned curses, he could feel Eddie move slightly underneath him as you pumped his dick and he was already dreading feeling you at the same time he felt Eddie. You smirked as you lined the tip of Steve’s dick at your entrance and slowly started sinking down on him, making Steve throw his head back with a silent moan escaping his lips. His breathing completely stopped, not knowing how to take all of the stimulation that his body was suffering. 
“Oh, he feels so good.” You let out as you sank all the way down in order to bottom out. Steve only groaned at the feeling and you didn’t need time to adjust at all, so you immediately started moving up and down on him, quickly changing to a fast pace as you felt the coil in your belly start to turn.
“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Steve was completely gone at this point. Tears started sliding down his cheeks as he felt himself going in and out of you, but thanks to you riding him, the mattress was bouncing, and that made Eddie bounce in and out of him as well. Your arms were thrown backwards because you needed support. One of them landed on Eddie’s shoulder, and you angled your upper body to the side so your other arm could wrap around Steve’s shoulders. 
You started twisting your hips in a circle motion, making Steve see stars, and he had realized he had access to your right nipple. In order to give you more pleasure, he latched his mouth onto it, gently biting onto the nub and pulling on it. You moaned loudly, your moving completely stopping at the feeling of your nipple being played with. You heard a loud groan beneath you and you knew Eddie had grown impatient.
“C’mon.” He raised his hips up forcefully, this time a little less than before, making Steve and you follow the movement, and then Eddie started thrusting into Steve once again and that made Steve go into you at the same pace that Eddie was fucking into him. You moaned loudly as you pinched your eyebrows together at the sensation, Steve never leaving your nipple as he kept sucking and biting onto it. 
“Oh this feels so fucking good, holy shit.” You couldn’t help but express how amazing you were feeling. You couldn’t help but love the pace of it, and how good Steve’s dick was hitting your g-spot. Steve was a moaning mess beneath you, but he wanted to make you cum, at least help you with something. His belly was burning but yours was even more heated.
“Is Bunny going to cum?” Eddie teasingly said below the both of you, but he was trying to hold back on his own groans, his own moans, because everything was too erotic right now. Your moans mixed with Steve’s was just too pornographic. Steve whimpered when he felt you clench around his dick and you nodded dumbly as you pinched your eyes together. Eddie’s hands traveled from Steve’s waist towards yours and you started moving as well on Steve, trying to chase your orgasm.
The different paces were making Steve cry in pleasure. You were clenching on him as you bounced on your quick pace while Eddie was pounding harshly and rapidly underneath him. You kept going until finally you felt your belly turn as the climax was nearing closer and closer, your eyes going to the back of your head and Steve took this chance to bite onto your nipple again. That was your breaking point.
“FUCK!” Your walls clenched tightly as your hold on Steve grew tighter, and your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as your legs trembled at your intense orgasm. Steve let go of your nipple to let out a loud moan, almost a cry of pleasure at the feeling, and Eddie halted his movements, finally huffing at how much he had moved in the past few minutes. 
You twitched while on top of Steve, slowing your movements as you rode the last bit of your orgasm, breathing heavily as your back sticky  with sweat, mixing with Steve’s own sweaty chest. Steve was sandwiched between you and Eddie and he was heaving for breath, moving slightly underneath you so he could take more oxygen into his lungs. You got the hint and pushed yourself up, letting Steve’s dick slip out of you again, making him wince at the feeling. Your legs were wobbly as you crawled away, and you were trying to regain your breath for the next part of your night. The part that excited you the most, as well as Eddie.
“You have to move darling. How do you want him?” Steve frowned at that, his chest going up and down until his attention snapped towards the clinking of some metal and leather. His eyes widened as he stared at what you were holding in your hands with a smile on your face as you still tried to catch your breath. 
“On his back, head hanging off the edge. I want to see his pretty face as I wreck him.” You could see Steve’s face blushing a deep red in complete need as he heard your words. You smirked at him as you saw how the mascara stained his cheeks. You wanted to be the cause of those tears now, and you wanted to see it.  “You want me to ruin you baby?” 
And Steve nodded desperately.
Masochism: 
Sexual arousal from pain, non life-threatening.
Eddie urged Steve to move, and the man above him got up on the bed, Eddie slowly slipping out of his asshole, making Steve whine at the loss of friction and stretch. He stood up and his legs almost gave out before Eddie immediately sat up to grab the back of his thighs to prevent him from falling down. Even if it were on a bed, he could fall back towards the headboard. Steve let himself fall on his knees and you could see how cock drunk he looked as you started putting the strap on, on yourself. 
Steve crawled towards you and your eyes widened as he took his tongue out towards the black tip of the dildo that came with the strap. He kitten licked at the fake slit of the head of it, and then took it into his mouth, letting his saliva start coating the silicone. You smirked as your eyes turned dark and Eddie saw the shift in yourself. Your hand shot up to grab onto Steve’s hair and he whimpered at the sudden pain. 
“What a cock drunk slut.” You hissed out and Steve whined at the degradation as you pushed your hips forward for him to take more of the silicone dick into his mouth, pushing his head further into it by his hair. 
“You know how to pick them.” You hummed at Eddie’s words and your hips slammed forward with force, Steve’s eyes widening as you didn’t let go of his hair and you started ramming your fake cock into his mouth, making his saliva drip down onto the comforter. You heard Steve gag and you grinned wickedly as he looked up at you with tears streaming down his face. 
“Look at his face Eddie.” Following your words, Eddie stood up from the bed, walking to stand next to you at the edge of the bed and his eyes widened at the beauty below him. He couldn’t see Steve’s face before, and now that he can see it, he realized how close he is to finishing, feeling his dick twitch and jump slightly. You grabbed both sides of Steve’s head and, in order to make a show for Eddie, you started pistoning your hips as you pushed Steve into you, making the tip of your silicone cock rub at the back of his throat repeatedly.
Steve gagged as gurgling moans were heard in the room, fresh tears running down his eyes as he tried to keep breathing through his nose but it was becoming too much. Yet, his dick was in desperate need for more. He needed more. The pain was just pleasure for him, and he wanted to be used, he wanted to be ruined, he wanted to be wrecked, and you and Eddie were making sure that he felt that way. 
“Jesus fuck. Get on your back Harrington.” Eddie ordered desperately and you giggled at how needy he sounded, grabbing onto Steve’s hair to pull him away from you. When your fake cock left his mouth, the poor man took a deep breath in to get oxygen back into his lungs. You looked down at how well he coated the silicone with his saliva, but you wanted to make sure that it remained pleasurable so you urged Steve to get on his back as you looked for the bottle of lube at the edge of the bed. 
Steve was panting, his shaft screaming for the need of release again. He laid back, looking at the ceiling and then Eddie’s face came into view as he looked down at him. Eddie’s hands came to rest behind Steve’s neck, pulling him a little more towards the edge and Steve helped him by scooting slightly in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie didn’t drop his head yet, knowing that you wanted to see Steve’s face first.
You opened the bottle of lube and squirted a nice amount of it onto the silicone, smothering it so it was nicely coated. You licked your lips in anticipation as you threw the bottle away and you crawled on the bed towards Steve, getting in between his spread legs. You smiled when you saw Eddie grinning at you as he held Steve’s head up for you to look when you finally wreck him.
“Ready?” You ask the man below you and he quickly nodded, his hips moving slightly with need and you bit your bottom lip as you put one of your hands behind his left knee and pulled it up to help him spread even more for you, while your free hand got hold of your fake dick, putting the tip at the already stretched rim of his hole. 
Steve frowned in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you started pushing the head in slowly, driving your hips forward, your other hand grabbing the back of his other knee and pushing it upwards like the other. How could it feel so good? Was it because it was you? Was it because it was his owner taking him? He didn’t know, but everything just felt too good, and he knew he was defiled now. This was his now, his future, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“M-More, please, please…” He moaned desperately and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he listened. You smirked as you remembered what Eddie does to you when you ask something like that, so, you copied him. Your hips immediately slammed forward, and you knew he could take it. It was different from pussy, but he was already stretched, so the pain was not even going to be there. He cried in pleasure as you bottomed out in him, new tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you.
Your fingers dipped harshly into his skin as you started moving your hips back to then slam back in, a yelp coming out of his lips. You started gaining rhythm, moving in and out of him at a normal pace and you looked down at his face - it was love at first sight. He looked drunk, tears running down his face, his eyelids stopping half way, and you knew that his mind and all his rational thoughts were completely gone. 
That made your hips start moving  quicker against him, the slapping on skin and the clinking of the strap filling the room. 
“Oh Eddie, he is so pretty, so fucking beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting me have him, thank you.” Your mind was foggy with desire, looking at how wrecked and red Steve’s face was as he moaned out your name over and over in a prayer. You looked at where your bodies joined, his dick jumping up and down at the movement of your thrusts. Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes showing need and desire. He understood. He dropped Steve’s head, letting it hang on the edge of it and Steve smiled as he came face to face with Eddie’s dick once again.
“Can I?” Steve asked and Eddie looked up at you. You smiled and nodded your head as Eddie grabbed his shaft, grinning as he crouched slightly in order to aim it towards Steve’s mouth. He had opened it already, sticking his tongue out so Eddie could fit it into his mouth as easily as possible. One of Eddie’s hands landed on Steve’s chest as the head of his cock was engulfed into the other man’s mouth. 
“I won’t go slow on you.” And Steve knew that. Eddie wasn’t like you at all. Eddie was a full on sadist, while Steve was the complete opposite and you were the mix of the two. That’s why Steve fits perfectly into this new equation, into this new puzzle, into this new partnership, relationship. He didn’t care what the label was, the only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to leave you or Eddie any time soon. 
Your pace quickened when Eddie started going deeper into Steve’s throat and his thighs were grabbed by Steve’s hands to have some leverage for him to not move forward thanks to your thrusts. Eddie closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt Steve’s throat opening easily thanks to the position he was in, a heavy groan vibrating from the depth of his chest. He was close, he really was. Looking at you thrusting into Steve while he throat fucks him was starting to become his tipping point. 
He drove his hips backwards and back into Steve’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans sending shocks of pleasure all over his body. You bit your lip as you looked how deep Eddie was going into Steve’s throat, his pace starting to pick up and Steve’s saliva started making him gurgle around Eddie’s cock. You slammed your hips forward, diving into Steve, making him whimper around Eddie who let out a huff at the feeling. You stayed there and started grinding your hips against Steve’s, rubbing against his prostate back and forth.
He was so close, Steve was so close, and Eddie needed more. His hips started thrusting into Steve’s mouth more forcefully, making him gag slightly until he recovered and started breathing through his nose in sync with Eddie's movements. You chuckled as you let go of one of Steve’s legs, spitting into it so you could wrap it around Steve’s hardened dick. His eyes shot open for a second at the surprise of it, only to then close them as he felt you start to move your hips back and forth again, your hand following the rhythm of it making him moan even more around Eddie’s cock.
“Kiss me baby, please–” You begged Eddie, moving forward as you kept gliding your hand up and down on Steve’s shaft, his precum and your saliva mixing to let you move smoothly on him. Eddie grinned at you as he leaned forward, his other hand pressing onto the bed to keep himself up as his hips kept ramming into Steve’s throat. Your hips slowed down into deep shallow thrusts, making Steve cry in a loud whine every time you slammed yourself into him. 
Eddie finally clashed his lips against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, pussy clenching on nothing at all as you both went in and out of Steve Harrington. You could feel yourself having trouble thrusting in and out as easily as before because Steve was most likely clenching as he neared his climax. Your hand moved faster as Eddie bit your bottom lip, making you his in delight, feeling a copper taste fill your mouth. He pulls away from you to look down at Steve’s throat, seeing himself going in and out, and he pulls away from him, slipping his cock out of his mouth.
A choked sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the blood completely up in his head making him dizzy and the feeling of his orgasm  even more intense. He felt like he was going to explode as he bounced against your thrusts, moving quicker this time. Eddie’s hands wrapped against behind Steve’s head and he pulled him up so you could see his face again.
“Look at him Bunny… Look how broken he is.” Eddie said as he looked down at Steve’s face, a whine escaping the other man’s throat as your hand started moving in a rapid motion and the tip of the silicone dick started hitting his prostate repeatedly. 
“You’re going to cum for me, pretty boy? Let me see you.” And that was all it took for Steve to moan out your name loudly, a cry, a thank you, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and onto his belly, some reaching as far as  his chest. You felt him drip down on your hand as you halted your movements because it became hard to thrust into him from how hard he was clenching on himself. 
He didn’t know for how long his orgasm lasted, but he felt drained, completely spent . When his body finally lost its tension and he let out a huff of breath, that’s when you pulled out, a whimper escaping Steve’s lips. He felt empty, clenching on nothing, knowing there was a big gape from his once small hole, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His throat hurt from how hard Eddie had fucked him there, but that’s when he realized that Eddie didn’t finish. He opened his eyes to look up at the man that was still holding him up, with a smirk to his face. 
“What about you?” Steve says in a hoarse voice. He heard clinking on the bed and he was assuming that you were taking off the strap from yourself. Eddie chuckled and helped Steve to sit up on the bed, a wince escaping Steve’s lips, already feeling his bottom half hurting and sore. 
“On your knees, floor. The both of you.” Eddie replied and you looked at Steve with a smile to your face as you rushed to kneel in front of Eddie. Steve was surprised at how quick you recovered from what happened but he guessed your stamina grew stronger after a year of being with this man. He winced again when he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and stood up on wobbly knees. He was definitely fucked out, but he wants to make Eddie finish, he wants to taste him.
So Steve kneeled down next to you, smiling up at Eddie in the same manner that you were. Eddie had his dick right in front of the both of you and you were the first to make a move. You leaned forward to run your tongue along the shaft on one side and Steve took the hint almost instantly, copying your movement for on the other side. You two ran your tongues back and forth on his dick, slurping sounds filling the room with a few of Eddie’s groans. 
Steve took the chance to glide his tongue further down, licking at the spot in between his balls and cock, to then completely swipe his tongue against his ballsack, making Eddie hiss. You wrapped his dick with your hand, moving back and forth as Steve started sucking on one of his balls, his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound every time he pulled away. You smirked at Steve’s action and licked your lips as you moved your head towards Eddie’s inner thigh and bit down onto his flesh.
That made Eddie come close to the edge.
“Tongues out.” He commanded and you two knew exactly that you had to stay still. Steve smiled at you as he pressed his face against yours, cheek to cheek, and the two of you were looking up at Eddie, tongues out, waiting for him to reward you both. Eddie moaned into his throat at the sight as he started pumping his dick with his own hand. This night was something that was planned for a year, and Steve had exceeded his expectations completely. He was going to have fun with the boy when you were on a mission or a meeting. That is if you let him, of course.
Eddie’s face twitched as his movements became desperate for release and his hips bucked into his hand once and twice, and then strings of cum started shooting out, coating your face, tongue as well as Steve. Eddie never came this hard, he had to keep himself from doing so the whole night, and he almost busted when he was inside of Steve. He somehow managed to not do so, so a lot came out but you two weren’t displeased by it, quite the opposite.
Eddie saw how the two of you opened your eyes and then looked at each other. Steve leaned forward to catch your tongue with his, smearing Eddie’s cum between the both of you, to then finally connecting his lips with yours, tongues dancing with saliva and Eddie. You both heard a chuckle above you and pulled away only to find Eddie smiling at the two of you.
“Aren’t you two so pretty?” You giggled alongside Steve and the lust that was in the room finally came to an end, at least for the night. Steve’s laughter stopped as he winced in disgust, looking down at himself, seeing his sweat and cum mixed together. You smiled at him, getting up from the floor and getting hold of his hands to help him up, making him hiss at the pain of his legs and bottom half.
“Time to shower and to take care of you, my beautiful boy.”
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Eddie was smoking as he laid his back against the headboard of his bed, damp hair falling over his shoulders. He had showered with the both of you and quickly ran back to the room to change the comforters into new ones while you ran a bath for Steve to help him soothe his sore muscles and clean him from all the lube that was used on him. 
You stumbled into the room, giggling with your arm wrapped around Steve’s, both of you in white robes, a smile never leaving Steve’s lips as you helped him walk on steady feet. You looked up to see Eddie in the center of the bed and smiled widely at him.
“Well you two are having fun so it seems.” Eddie commented as he took a deep swig of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his lips and towards the tall ceiling. You rolled your eyes at him as you helped Steve get into bed on one side, a wince escaping his lips as his bottom touches the mattress. Eddie’s hand immediately reached forward to rub on Steve’s back, motioning him to scoot closer to him. 
Steve was surprised by the intimate gesture, but followed his guidance, hissing as he scooted closer to lay on Eddie’s chest as he cuddled up to him. Eddie’s hand immediately went to the small of Steve’s back, running soothing circles against the skin. 
“Don’t be so jealous about it.” You said and Eddie scoffed at that. Steve couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to be this carefree with the two of you after what you two had done to him. He trusted you both more than he ever trusted his father–
“Oh!” Steve sat up as he remembered something, earning him a grimace of pain in his features. You rushed to his side to see if there was anything wrong with him but he quickly regained his composure and looked at you. “Did they bring up the black bag I mentioned?” He asked, and you tilted your head, nodding at him and walking towards the walk-in closet that was in the room. Eddie was confused as he saw how you walked back in with what looked like a school bag. 
“Are we learning the ABC’s today?” Eddie asked with a snicker and Steve only rolled his eyes at him as you handed the bag to him. 
“I didn’t want to catch any suspicions with it, so I covered it up as a normal sleepover bag.” He took out a pair of pajamas that perfectly hid a black folder that nestled inside. He took it out, throwing the bag and clothes to the floor and handing the folder to Eddie. The long haired man raised an eyebrow at it, putting the cigarette in his lips as he took the folder in his hands and laid it on his lap. He opened it to start reading the content of it, a smirk slowly forming on Steve’s face. 
Eddie grabbed onto the cigarette again to finally let out a delighted laugh.
“You gave me your father’s clients. People I can blackmail. The rights to several bank accounts and companies. You know this will destroy the Harrington Emporium, right?” He asked but he knew the answer. You were giggling with excitement as you rushed to the other side of Eddie to take a peek of the list that was on his lap. 
“My father does not deserve the power that he has… You on the other hand…” Steve spoke in a sultry tone as he leaned again towards Eddie, placing a soft kiss against his chest, and your eyes were looking at Steve with adoration and excitement.
“Now Stevie… Don’t forget you are mine.” Steve chuckled at that as you leaned forward, right above Eddie’s chest with a pout on your lips. He leaned towards you to press a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a nod of his head. You two heard a throat clearing and you turned your heads to look at Eddie glaring down. You giggled and pressed a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and he let out a hum of contentment at it.
When you pulled away he looked at Steve and he copied your movement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. When the two of them pulled away, Eddie had a sick grin to his face, and he realized that he now had it all. He had the power, he had the daughter and son of the biggest mob families in the district, and now the three of you would live together. And he knew Steve was good with bribery pacts, so he was going to be useful to Eddie in that sense.
Of course, there were feelings inside of each of you that were too complicated to put into words, so you all let it be as it is, and that was good enough. Eddie got the power, but you and Steve finally got the freedom you so desired. The freedom you two have craved since you were kids. You were owned, but not caged. You didn’t let people make decisions for you, and no one can tell you what to do now… Except intimately.
"Eddie~" You whined at him, making him chuckle as he turned to face you.
"Yes?"
"I didn't get to have your dick tonight…" You were pouting at him, Eddie shaking his head as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. Steve giggled at your actions, only for him to now look at Eddie with a serious look on his face, catching the other man's attention.
"Can I finish inside of Bunny next time?" He dared to ask and Eddie chuckled darkly as he took another swig of his almost finished cigarette.
"I'll think about it, Pretty Rabbit. We just had a few things planned first, but they can wait for a while now that you're here with us. We will just postpone them for later on." At that Steve's head tilted to the side in confusion, looking towards you for answers. You giggled at his confused frown as you started talking while cuddling against Eddie's side.
"Eddie has all this new power and actions, and he wants the lineage of it to keep being… Munson." You softly said as images start jumping in your head, growing excited for it. Steve's eyes widened as he looked at Eddie for confirmation, who was already looking down at Steve with a smirk to his face.
"I need an heir."
Bang, bang, bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.
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Reblogs help artists to engage even more in this platform, only liking does not do much BUT I DO APPRECIATE IT.
a/n: well that was one hell of a ride, so I hope you enjoyed that filth!
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
Taglist: @ghost-proofbaby @munson-blurbs @theflowerrooms @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @xxhellfiregirlxx @hellfirefiend @corrodedcoffincumslut @pastel-pillows
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Happy Birthday, Norton Campbell
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Rated Mature | None
To the second hunter and survivor I ever wrote since playing IDV (the first was Morningstar!Ithaqua and High Roller!Orpheus) and had tried to go against during his event (he rocked me a lot), this is for you babe!
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Norton Campbell
“You know what they say about Pisces?” You say as lay on top of him wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.
He uncovers his face where he places his arm to look at you. The look of ‘What weird thing did you come up with this time?’ because you are one to say the most outlandish things. He won’t say it but it is often appreciated when his thoughts are not pleasant, “What do they say?” Tired, not of you— Well, he tired because of you and that boundless energy of yours. God, you and Lucky Guy are always ready to go.
“... I don't know.” You forgot or probably had no idea where you were going with that.
“You are lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out.” Covering his face again.
“Out of my own room!? Naked? Wow!” Sitting up causes the sheets to shift and expose your bare chest but the lower half is still covered, “After I gave the best birthday gift too, boo!”
“How do you still have energy?” Mumbling.
“I have to keep up with you, both of you.”
“Agh.” Norton does not want to think about how Fool’s Gold is going to demand a birthday gift too, “Do me a favor and blue ball him.”
“Norton, you won't let me top and you expect me to do denial on him? Hah, no.” Using a modern term for being the dominant one, supposedly. You simplify a lot of your bedroom explanations to him.
“At least, make him work for it.” Moving to lay on his side with his arms wrapped around you.
Fool’s Gold
There is no dressing up for this, he would not appreciate it like his counterpart likes seeing you in lace. Simple lingerie, especially when he can rip it off. No, the hunter likes simply having you on your knees playing your role. He has not forgotten about this, about how it turned him on.
“Bark.” Commanding you. His legs wide open while he sits in the chair made for the hunters.
You are on your knees with your arms up partly as you copy a dog stance while standing, “Arf!” Barking a little too easily, the usual grin on his face widening at the sight of you degrading yourself as his gift. “Woof!” He pulls on the makeshift leash that is his belt.
“Open your mouth for your treat.” His fully formed hand is tugging at your bottom lip, “Tongue out.” Unzipping his pants, unbuttoning it so he has room to pull out that thick reconstructed cock. Pulsing with the purple glow. Tugging you so your breath is hot on his cock. Oh, he likes this sight with his thick nonhuman cock on your tongue weighing heavy.
The way you remain in place waiting for his command, and even better how soon he is going to see tears of pleasure running down that pretty face of yours.
“Go on, suck your treat up.” Norton definitely likes this. You normally would not do this again after the last time he did this with you, but it seems mercy is on his side.
A wish is granted for his birthday.
Soul Catcher
Mortals. All of them from animals to humans, their lives are fleeting, finite, he did not understand why he must assist in preserving these souls. They all will return to the land of the living upon reincarnation, to suffer and struggle. He sits watching a soul that captives him these days, singing a song and often messing up the lyrics, you currently are doing chores. Nothing special about this life or how you live it.
A plain soul, he found the company of such a domestic person a change of pace, a way to see the beauty of life before he claimed it for death. Soon you will follow like all mortal things.
“A celebration of life and another,” You explain, “Though you are not alive, we should still celebrate the contribution you give to all life.” Smiling as you hand him a poncho you created for him. “Death is equally as important as life.”
A birthday, he has no need for such a thing but the gift is given to him, here in this field of cut wheat, the window blowing softly as he stands up and puts on the article of clothing.
“It looks great on you!” Clapping your hands together, “Do you like it?”
“I do.” A quiet one as he often keeps to himself, “Thank you.” He does not have a need for this, yet he does not want to say that nor want you to think him ungrateful. The Soul Catcher touches it fondly as this will be treasured like all the memories he will have of you when the time comes to collect your soul.
Highway Cavalier
“Hiya, speedster.” Waving to him before leaning on the door of his car, “Practicing?”
“No, just checking on the girl before Luca and Demi kick me out for the day.” The engine sounds clear as he revs it and slowly winds it down, “You?”
“Soon, I need to test run the Mach Two before the entry races next week.”
“You've been test-running the damn thing all week.” Shutting the car off, “Join us later.”
“You know I can't, speedster. I gotta do my checks and do my practice laps—”
“Yes, you can because it's my birthday.” He grins, leaning in close towards you.
“What!?” You cover your face, “Oh, my God, Norton, why didn't you tell me?! I could've gotten you a gift or something.”
“I'm mentioning it now and the only gift I want is to see you at the bar getting drinks with us.” Pinching your cheek when you uncover your face to pout, “Maybe a kiss or two for an extra gift too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before laughing when you hit his arm.
“Silly man as if I don't already kiss you enough,” Rolling your eyes playfully.
The Orphan of Goetia
“A mutual gift for both of us to enjoy the desires of the flesh.”
Infernal Sin, King of the Seventy-Two demons of Hell, the Lord of the damned, has gifted him what they both desire. Norton’s heart is the Infernal Sin's heart only with a human host, he feels what the other feels too.
“I am such a benevolent King, aren't I?” A rhetorical
question as he laughs with glee, “Well!? Go on! Indulge.” Here in this bedroom of red lights and sheets of silk, a heavy smell of wine and iron, Norton is unsure if he should even touch you.
There you sit wrapped up with large fabric ribbons presenting you as a gift. The makeup on your face waa done by that worshiper obsessed with the demonic king and him. You look away, gagged with a ball held by leather straps.
“Go on. This is for us.”
You are laid back, the Orphan of Goetia and the Infernal Sin above you, the hands you feel however are only Norton’s. Carefully unwrapping you, freeing you but you remain on the bed. His hands remove the gag, his mouth on yours immediately desperately.
The sensation of a rocky hand sliding up your legs before slipping between them.
The King once told you here you will find heaven or hell, here you can be worshiped or be made to grovel. He will— They will have you one way or another.
“This is…” Norton speaking with laboring breath, “(Name)...” His lips on your skin, your neck to chest, a trail of hickeys following.
“Norton.” Moaned out as the monster enjoyed himself preparing you, “Please, God.” Thick fingers preparing you, it is as if he knows just how to touch you.
“Not God, us. From now on it will only be us.” The demon king says— Promises.
Mining Director
“You can open them.” Saying as the dining room table is covered with gifts sent to him. Perks of being the most desired and envied man in the mining business— With a hand in other businesses and politicians. Norton Campbell made himself the most powerful man both in the public eye and behind the scenes. “Useless junk.”
You sit there unsure what to say or do given his mood today. It is his birthday and though he has a ton of gifts and riches fit for a king, you had hoped he would celebrate with you… Like old times… When you were both two kids trying to make it in the cold world.
“What?” Norton says, he sees you not moving from your spot, his eyes go to the small box in your hand.
“It's nothing.” Putting the box down, turning around ready to leave the room. The boy you loved, that boy has grown up into a materialistic man. You married him because you love him, but you wonder if he loves you… If that boy is still there wanting to play with you like always.
“Wait,” Grabbing your arm, “Is this for me?” Looking at the poorly made box.
“... No point in asking. It's with the rest of the junk.” Sounding every bit hurt.
Norton curses in Spanish under his breath before pulling you into his arms and squeezing you, “Mi Vida, nothing you give me is junk.”
You hide your face in his chest embarrassed by your feelings of inadequacy, he has the world and you want to show him your love.
“Let me open it.” Opening it while still hugging you, “Hah! You found the old thing!?” Pulling out the old toy model car he would play with as a kid, “Can't believe it. Thought the old man sold it.”
“I found it when visiting the old neighborhood. The pawn shop had it on display and I… I hope you like it, Norton.”
He drops the box to touch the toy, this small piece of the past. When he was a boy, he used to play with this car pretending to be a racer. The grand places he would imagine with you in tow chasing after him.
“Norton?”
His face is buried in the crook of your shoulder, you touch his hand as you feel him trembling against you. 
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slippinninque · 21 days
Text
Fontaine x A Rainy Day
warnings: none!
content: fluffy, soft!fontaine, short fic
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"It's really comin' down out there."
"Hm, 'sho is..."
Fontaine sat on your bed pantsless and incredibly enticing as he watched the rain pounding against the bedroom's window.
After regular drop off turned délice de l'après-midi and then one nap later--you were woken up by the soft rumble of thunder. Fontaine rose to get you both water and to make a trip to the bathroom before coming back to plop onto the foot of your bed.
You stretched, still feeling soft and good from your eventful afternoon. You weren't sure if you were ready for it to end so soon.
Fontaine was only a few shoes and a belt away from going off and handling business and the thought stung the butterflies in your stomach.
There was a louder groan of thunder, you rose from the bed to crack the window to hear the rainfall. Feeling Fontaine's gaze on you, it was easy to take your time and feel the cool air fan across your skin.
"I know you see it," you said, then grinned when Fontaine grunted appreciatively, "How bad this rain is, I mean."
You grabbed the shawl Fontaine undone from you just earlier, tying two corners into a knot above your breast. It was long enough to reach your knees and was especially airy.
He nodded once, slowly, and gave your favorite half-smile, "Roads might be fucked up, then."
"My street is good for flooding, y'know." Your fib felt light like cotton candy as Fontaine stood to come to you, "I bet your Pontiac has gone for a nice swim."
"Can't do nothin' but wait for it to round back, hm?"
Fontaine teased lightly at the knot of fabric before him, eyes sliding up and down your body. Thunder rolled above you, causing the walls and window to shiver. The scent of rainwater was already creeping in and Fontaine smelled like you.
You walked him backward towards the bed, giving him a playful little push so that he was laid back across your bed. You laid across him, stretching felinely before settling.
Fontaine's hands massaged up from your cheeks to your shoulder blades, melting you into him. You sighed and you felt his chuckle but he didn't stop his massaging.
"This is a wonderful way to earn your stay until the rain stops..." you murmured softly.
"Whatchu mean? What 'bout the work I put in earlier?" Fontaine gripped your bottom and rocked you slowly, "That should get me 'till tonight, right?"
You ended up entangled on your sides, Fontaine pulling the blanket up and over you both. You were far too happy with the idea of having Fontaine to yourself the entire night.
You hid your face in his neck, "Let's work a little more and I'll let you know."
Fontaine's answering hum was dozy and you smiled. Fontaine rolled a bit of your shawl's fabric between his fingers. You nuzzled slightly where skin met shirt.
It felt like you both were taking a break from the world. Hiding away in plain, contented sight. Usually your mind would cook up some tizzy, but somehow being with Fontaine made things very simple.
'You feel so right.'
You wanted say it and maybe you would some day. In the present, you had Fontaine in your arms, sleeping to the sound of rain.
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ending notes: hey hey! another late night scribble! just something to go with the rainout side the window! it's late and i was feeling fluffy! Thank you so much for reading!
taglist: @megamindsecretlair@thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful@8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@mysterychick93 @eggnox @notapradagurl7 @sageispunk @mcondance @hunnishive@blowmymbackout@westside-rot@sevikasblackgf@miyuhpapayuh@kindofaintrovert
(let me know if you want to be tagged!! 💕💜🌟)
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eddiiiieeee · 9 months
Text
A little death 1
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summary: Rock n Roll was at its peak, and so was Guns n Roses. However, the most popular band had lost their drummer, and what’s a rock band without their drummer? So when a new girl steps in to fill the gap in their band, slash doesn’t take too kindly to her. She’s wild, untamed, free spirited, an addict, and yet, she was free. Everyone loved her. The world loved her. And yet, Slash couldn’t. He hated her. Plain and simple, because it was easier to hate her, than to love her.
warnings: this will contain mentions of sexual themes and adult themes. if any of those things trigger you, please hope off now :) ....
Axls eyes fluttered open, noticing the chair closest to y/n was empty, Slash’s chair was empty. the redheads gaze moved onto the bathroom door, slightly closed but not fully, light coming but from the bottom of the door. Axl got up and took a glance at y/n, still laying practically lifeless with no color in her face. not makeup, no wine colored lips, nor her pink highlighter. He rubbed his eyes as he walked off to the bathroom, slowly pushing the door open as he looked inside, his best friend was on the floor shaking while he clutched something close to his chest. Axl didn’t say much or anything for that matter and sat down next to him.
he rubbed his knees and he kept his gaze straight. Slash gulped putting his forehead against his knees. Axl took a deep breath, licking his lips before going to speak up.
….
1 MONTH PRIOR
"fucking bitch." Slash muttered under his breath as he took a sip of his water, leaning against a wall as he watched y/n sat on a couch with a bunch of other people around her, all sharing lines. Izzy was next to her as he took a line after her. “hey handsome” A brunette said as she moved her hand along Slash’s shoulders and arms before moving in-front of him, slash took a glance at her before looking over at y/n again, soon enough the girl in-front of him pulled him into a kiss, which he couldn’t resist melting into it.
it took a while before the two pulled away, Slash’s gaze averting to where y/n was sat, to find a empty spot. “i-uh, i gotta go” Slash said patting the lady’s arm before rushing off looking for her, walking into a couple rooms to find some couples fucking, Duff and some groupies, some more people doing lines but no y/n before he heard a voice say “man, get off my dick” followed by a giggle, Slash turned around to check the voice out and found y/n on the floor while a guy was standing infront of her with a bag of what looked like to be powdered heroine.
y/n looked over at Slash and smiled “aye! Sau- oops, Slash!” she giggled, as Slash quickly bent down to help her up “okay, let’s get you back to the hotel” He said concern lacing his voice, this was a routine to Slash at this point, he came to parties to look after y/n. “hey man, come on! we were gonna go do something!” the guy said moving over to grab onto y/n’s arm “hey, fucking touch her again and i’ll fuck you up.” Slash said loudly, y/n’s eyes widened as she giggled once again.
Slash quickly moved y/n’s arm around his shoulder to help her walk out, he walked out the party, helping y/n sit down on the sidewalk before calling over a taxi. once one stopped, Slash, helped her back up and helped her get in the back, getting in next to her as he told the driver where they were headed. he rested back before licking his lips, looking over at her. “did he do anything to you?” Saul said as y/n shook her head “nope, but i sure missed out on some good shit” she chuckled laying her head on his shoulder
“think you can stay awake?” Slash asked, hearing her hum but knowing she was going to do the exact opposite, he rested his palm on her leg, moving his thumb in a circle. it didn’t take long for them to arrive, he paid the driver before nudging y/n awake “come on, need you to walk with me sweets, kay?” he mumbled to her, moving some hair out of her face, as he wrapped her arm around his shoulder just like before, walking them inside the lobby as he moved over to the elevator. “you’ve got a lot of hair, y’ know that?” she giggled as Saul chuckled “yea i know sweets. come on” He said walking them inside the elevator and pressing the floor of their rooms
“oh no!” y/n said scaring Saul as he looked over at her worried “what?” “we forgot Izzy! oh and Axl, and duff too!” y/n said looking at Saul, causing him to laugh “sweetheart, we didn’t forget them, they’ll be here soon. how much did you drink?” he smiled looking down at her as he smiled, noticing y/n’s mascara leaving little marks near the top of her cheeks “hold still” he said moving his thumb to wipe his the stains off, before the elevator ping let him know they’d reached, he helped y/n carefully to her room, her giggles filling the hallway “you’ve got your keycard right?” Saul said, realizing he should get copies of her card
“mhm, right here” y/n said pointing at the pocket that held her wallet, Saul dug his hand into her pocket, pulling out the red leather wallet and taking the card out, putting it against the scanner and pushing the door open as he helped her in and set her down on the bed. putting her wallet on the table under the tv. taking his leather jacket off revealing his rolling stones shirt that he had worn after the concert “take your jacket off for me sweets.” Saul knew y/n never remembered most the night after she got high and drunk, so the sweetness wasn’t remembered after all.
Saul drugged through her toiletries and found the makeup wipes she always had, taking a wipe out before wiping her face clean of any makeup, helping her into the bathroom as he then helped her do the skincare routine he had remembered knowing the band would never hear the end of how she forgot to do it. Once she was done, Saul rushed to get the clothes she slept in, which were a shirt and plaid pj pants. he handed them to her as he waited outside for her, She handed him her old clothes which he put in the laundry bag for house cleaning to take care of. He finally had her in the bed, tucked in and out like a light.
he looked at the clock and realized it was 3 in the morning, knowing she had time before their next flight “hey, im leaving this right for ya, okay?” Saul whispered to her moving some hair again out of her face as he put the trash can next to her along with her painkillers and water “night love” he whispered kissing her forehead before grabbing his jacket and leaving the room, closing the door behind him as he leant up against it, digging his face into his hands
“how long are you gonna keep taking care of her before you two realize you love each other?” Saul heard, looking up to see his red headed friend “ ‘m not in love with her” “you sure? because you could’ve left her to do whatever is what she was gonna do with that guy, and every other night, would’ve left her to come home with Duff and Izzy real late, to sleep in her makeup and heals and leather pants.” Axl said looking at his friend as he licked his lips
“Saul-“ “there’s nothing going on. got it rose?” Slash said, looking at him before walking over to his room which was three feet away from y/n’s unlocking the door “night” he mumbled before walking in and slamming the door shut
“you okay?” Axl asked as Slash looked at him shrugging “if she is i am.”
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liminal-lesbian · 18 days
Note
In regards to marcy finding her niche…well forgive me for being cynical, but I don’t think she has one. Both Anne and Sasha found their niches in Amphibia, but Marcy couldn’t. And it wasn’t a lack of trying either, as seen with new wartwood and the journal. If she couldn’t make friends in Amphibia, I don’t think could on earth.
You're also gonna have to forgive me for being an obnoxious optimist (it's a result of hitting rock bottom multiple times and somehow still gettin thru things), but I like to imagine things get better for Marcy after Amphibia!
I know her story wasn't well executed in the show, but I really do feel the idea of Amphibia's end being the true start of her journey makes sense to me. Marcy's biggest struggle was finding security in her identity outside of other people, hence her deep fear of being alone (if I have no one, who am I?) and her need to gain approval (if I'm useful people will stay).
The problem with this is by doing this she created a structure of self-identification that relied on her eschewing her sense of self in favour of, in essence, making herself lesser for others. She flattened herself to be the smart one, the mediator, Master Marcy of Newtopia, etc. All are identities inherently created to be someone for someone else. Needless to say the loss of these relationships, perceived or in reality, is a world shattering event because she loses not just the relationship but herself.
In Marcy's mind, for good reason mind you, people don't want her for HER. They want her for what she gives them, thus she moulds and contorts herself to be who THEY want, losing herself in the process, becoming less a person and more thing for them to use.
I think this is the message her experiences in the Core were MEANT to convey; Marcy's feelings toward Anne and Sasha were absolutely founded in reality—they neglected her when she tried to express her true self—but she also needed to learn that people will love her for her, as the holistic, flawed, true Marcy that she is. In the end Marcy needed to value herself as much in order for that relationship to ever succeed.
Obviously this could've been executed MUCH better, maybe with more emphasis on people expressing that they loved Marcy for who she was rather than what she did, but I guess that's what fanfics for, eh?
With all this in mind though, this is why I think post-Amphibia Marcy would've found a niche for herself. She's learned that she's loved beyond her acts of service for others. She doesn't need to earn people's love, she is valued and loved because she's Marcy Wu, plain and simple, proven by Anne and Sasha coming back for her (altho this could've been done better as well, ie an earlier attempt to rescue Marcy, but I do think the overall intention was there story wise). Taking this to heart I think she'd find people who share her interests and be able to interact with them in a healthy manner, meeting them as equals and not as a tool to be used. This self-respect, understanding her value and viewing herself as an equal in her relationships, is the door to finding and thriving in new friend groups outside of Anne and Sasha.
I think this is where her guarded nature would develop. She understands her self-worth, and therefore would protect herself from people who might want to exploit her again (ANDRI-ASS looking at u), but I do think she'd get to a point where she'd know when to open up.
I understand a more cynical take for sure! Looking at how she was treated in the show that's absolutely an interpretation that could come from it. Personally, as a big sap at heart, I like to imagine a future where she's happy.
Source: I spent 23+ years viewing myself in a very similar manner and project onto Marcy perhaps a bit more than is healthy
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kaz-identified · 6 months
Text
houseofmcallister presents... Do or Drown
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Pairing: Crow x Young Wolf Category: Oneshot Genre: Fluff Rating: 13+ Warnings: Jokingly threatening to drown Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Please don't make this awkard or I will throw myself into the sea.
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a/n: good for them. THIS FIC WENT LIVE WITH THE WRONG BANNER FORGIVE ME
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I love you baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you baby.
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They sit there, in pale moonlight, reflections of firelight dancing on their armor, and look like an angel. No, a god. Ethereal, celestial, and oh-so beautiful.
And he sits beside them, a respectable distance away, trying very hard not to think about how pretty they look like this.
It's hard, it's hard not to admire something so clearly divine when it is placed so close to you. A divine being, a god, in their sacred, glorious power and majesty, is sitting next to you, drinking bottom shelf stolen whiskey straight from the bottle and throwing stones at the water, smiling when they skip.
These moments, however small and stolen, these moments of celebration between battles, when they slip into the field to "shoot the shit and take the piss" as the Guardian puts it. Hanging out, as Crow would put it.
Since that first night, together in the woods, drinking cheap wine, he's learned well against taking any of the alcohol they offer. Evidently, their tolerance is much higher than his, and the idea of being well and truly drunk in their presence, saying something he may regret… is not one he's fond of.
But still, he takes a slow sip from the bottle he brought and drags his gaze to the lake before them.
"You know, skipping stones is an art. Takes lots of time to be good at," they say, picking up and inspecting a small, flat rock.
"Oh, really?" He asks, not really taking them seriously.
"It is! Seriously. There's a lot that goes into it. The stone itself, the way you throw it, it's all in the wrist."
"Whatever you say."
They roll their eyes and toss a stone. It skips twice and sinks.
"You admitting I'm correct, as I always am?"
He rolls his eyes. "I am not."
"Ah, you know I am." They toss a stone again. Skips twice and sinks.
"Repeated results. Proof of perfection, I'd say."
"Proof you're not as good at this as you think you are, more likely."
They look over at him, teeth bared in a wolfish grin. "Is that a challenge, Crow?"
He shrugs, taking a long swig from his bottle, trying to distract himself from that look in their eye. They're gorgeous like this. They're gorgeous all the time, but that playfulness they get about them when with friends, that arrogant, if well deserved, confidence they carry. That willingness to take any challenge. It's intoxicating, their surety. Their confidence. It's the kind of thing that makes you feel safe, that you can't help but love, however cocky it may come across.
"Maybe it is, old light."
They bark a laugh, standing up. "Oh you are ON, new light!" They say, glaring playfully at him.
The Guardian throws a stone again. It skips three, four, five- seven times. Seven times before sinking.
"Wow! Look at that," they say, with exaggerated excitement. "Seven skips! Beat that," the Guardian turns to him, teeth bared in a grin.
He smiles. He always smiles when they smile. How could he not? Their smile is always so genuine.
"Alright, watch this!" He grabs a flat stone, tosses it on the water. Once. Twice. Sinks.
"Haha!" The Guardian cackles, leaning forward to watch it drop. "Womp-womp. I win," they smile.
"Of course, you win. You always win." He says, rolling his eyes.
They lean back, offering him an exaggerated smirk. "Of course I do! I'm me. And I'm incredible. And everyone loves me."
Crow shakes his head. "I wouldn't go that far."
“I would! I'm the best, plain and simple and everyone knows it!" They laugh. They're taking the piss, he can tell. "And everyone loves me for that. As we know!"
"Whatever, you're delusional," he chuckles.
"Ah, don't act like that. You know you love me!" They tease. They don't know how true those words are. They mean it joking, friendly, but he does. With every beat of his heart, every breath he takes, every part of him, he adores them.
But he won't let that slip here. So he just rolls his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that."
“I will!" They laugh. "I will keep telling myself that because it's true, and you know it, and I know it." They turn to face him, hand right below their face, the other beside it, "voguing" they called it. An old pre-Golden Age joke. "And who could blame you. I'm the best. Greatest of all time, and I'm so pretty."
"And humble," Crow teases.
They drop their hands laughing.
They sit together, drinking in silence for a few minutes after that.
"I love you too, by the way."Crow nearly chokes on his beer. "What?"
"Wow wow, don't die on me," the Guardian chuckles. Their eyes are softer than normal. Not the confident gleaming mischief he's used to. They're being genuine. "I- Traveler above this is embarrassing to say out loud." They pause, take in a breath. "I love you. I have for a while. You're my friend, and I care about you, and I would never let anything happen to you, but more than that, I- I fucking adore you. You're funny and you're kind and god you are handsome- like you're fucking gorgeous. And- I, I just needed to say that. Cause, if I face the Witness and somehow I don't come back I just, I would regret leaving without you knowing that. So, there. I said it. And, I feel very awkward but it had to be said. So, there we go. I love you. I am in love with you," they look anywhere but at him. "So. Yeah. And please, if you do not feel the same be nice about it because the sea is right there and I WILL throw myself directly into it if this gets even a little bit more awkward"
Crow is quiet for a long moment, just processing. "Ok first off, I don't think walking into the sea is the solution to... anything."
"I disagree but contiune."
"Ok. That's- whatever. Second. You- you love me?"
"Yes."
He isn't sure what to say. He dreamed of a moment like this. He looks at them. The light dances around them, shadows cast back by their mere presence, they are gorgeous. Ethereal, even when they're half-jokingly threatening to throw themself into the merciful embrace of oceanic death. He can't look away, because this moment, this confession, this feeling, love returned. It's here, and he isn't sure what to say.
"I- I love you too."
"Yeah, how could you not?"
"Oh my god. Shut up, do not act confident, you just said you would drown yourself if this got awkward.
They laugh, and scoot towards him. "And I didn't have too, so look at that, we're all happy and I get to continue being a jackass."
He looks at them. "Whatever. You're lucky you're incredible, otherwise you'd be intolerable."
"Oh please, I'm intolerable anyways. But look at this," they lace their hand into his. "I still managed to make you fall in love with me, so I can't be that bad."
"Yeah, you're not. You're.. quite frankly, you're too good to be true."
They laugh. "Yeah, you are too. I love you, man. God- I have been wanting to say that for so long."
He laughs. They smile.
"I love you too."
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this is for @arcaneglitch and @astral-runic.
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ao3: houseofmcallister main account: houseofmcallister buy me a coffee!
Don’t repost my work or I’ll eat your shoulder blades! I do not consent to my works being used for AI training purposes.
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bearlytolerant · 4 months
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Shepard, on the run from her past, seeks asylum on Neon. With the funds from a few odd jobs and a shady loan, she purchases a small bookshop. Though her shop is practically failing, she can always count on her favorite customer, Captain Cora Coe to make a weekly purchase. But when she can’t make a loan payment on time, her life gets turned topsy turvy and she’s forced to depend on friends for help.
Three
Jemison teems with all sorts of wildlife.
Cora suggests hunting. “We could get started on those ingredients for Offworld Eats. Maybe restock the lodge freezer too.”
It seems simple enough. Not too dangerous either. Sam agrees and it proves to be both. They land somewhere not too far off from New Atlantis but far enough away that none of the city looms on their horizon.
Sam perches in a lower bough of a tree, shaded by the green canopy, waiting. Just like he’s been waiting for a couple hours now. His stomach growls and he throws the rifle over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. A small insect buzzes in his ear and he waves it off. He digs around in his pack for a sandwich. Feeling around with his fingers, he brushes up against the wrapper and it crinkles. He pulls the squished sandwich free from the bottom of the bag, unwraps it and takes a bite. Cora sits next to him, curled up in the crook of the bough, book splayed open in her lap.
“You hungry?”
“Not really,” she says, fully engrossed in what she’s reading.
He’s already shoving the thermos her way. “Thirsty then?”
She pushes it back. “Thanks but I just had a drink.”
He knows better than to bother her when she’s reading but he’s bored. It’s been a long time since he’s been plain old bored. He chews his sandwich with his arm draped over his knee, other leg dangling over the tree branch. Takes a sip of water and spots some movement in the sky. Abandoning the sandwich, he shuffles back to his post. Gets into position and aims his rifle, sights set on a bird circling.
“Oh, you finally see something?”
He eyes the bird as it begins to slow to a steady glide. Its burnt orange tail catches the afternoon light and sparks like a flame in the dark. He admires the beauty of it for a moment. It swoops and the moment’s gone. “Parrothawk. Good size too. We can get a lot of meat off it.”
One intake of breath and his finger is on the trigger.
It’s midday and the heat beats down on him. A bead of sweat trickles from his forehead to the end of his nose. Exhaling, he wipes the sweat away with his sleeve, turning his attention back to the parrothawk. But now that Cora’s attention is diverted from the book, he takes the opportunity to try and coax a conversation from her.
“Hey, how did spa day go with Lillian?”
“It was alright. Feels like an eternity ago now, though.”
“Just alright, huh?”
A coral bug scuttles out from behind a rock chasing after a small cutterhead, its teal tendrils flailing wildly as it chases its prey. The rest of the herd—he counts at least four of them—startle and begin running in the opposite direction, abandoning their comrade. Funny how that works. Nothing for hours and then a barrel full all at once. The parrothawk swoops and bites down on the coral bug and the lone cutterhead hurries away. Sam holds his breath. Keeps his sights on the bird’s head and pulls the trigger. It’s a direct hit. The parrothawk spirals as it hurtles to the ground. Smacking against the coral bug corpse, one of the bug’s limbs flies into the air and lands a distance away as the dust settles around the dead parrothawk.
“Nice shot,” Cora says.
He gives a curt nod of thanks. “I’m not done hearing about your day with Lillian,” he reminds her, readjusting himself and aiming for that lonesome cutterhead now grazing a few feet away. If he’s lucky, that herd will return but he doesn’t bank on it. He focuses on the one instead. Its solid blue horn and back ridges make it trickier to kill than the others. With so much protection covering its skull, he aims for the eye.
“Eh, it was okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Our trip got cut short.”
There’s not a hint of disappointment with those words and maybe that’s what has him worried a little. Sure, Cora’s always been reasonable but she sounds apathetic. Sam lowers his rifle and glances at Cora over his shoulder. Sometimes he can’t believe how old she is. Makes him want to say what’s really on his mind but she’s still his little girl. Don't matter her age. He holds back his harsh words. Thinks them instead. It’s always something with Lillian. And that something is always more important than keeping her promises to Cora. It boils his blood when he spends too much energy thinking too long and too hard about it.
“Did she say why?”
Cora closes her book and tucks it away in her backpack. “It was just the usual. You know.”
He does. But it’s not much of a conversation if he’s filling in all the blanks. Slinging her backpack onto her shoulders, she begins her descent to the ground. Sam gathers up his belongings and follows. They trek toward the fallen parrothawk.
“Your cutterhead is getting away,” she says as they draw closer.
She’s right. It spots them and takes off running.
“Still think we can call it a win with what we’ve got.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They arrive at the parrothawk and he kneels. “You know, Lillian—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupts, bending over the parrothawk with a knife in hand. She works at cutting the skin away first and he joins her, taking the upper half.
“Oh yeah? Been spending time reading fortunes?”
“Ha, no. You’ll have a valid reason to defend her and I’ll still feel like shit about it.” Sam stills and drops the knife, standing and hovering next to her. “It’s okay dad, I already talked to Aja about it.”
It stings. He won’t admit aloud. But it’s good she at least talks to someone about it. Her best friend is probably a decent choice too. Barrett and Ervin’s girl has always been a great kid with an even better head on her shoulders. Hell, her advice was probably insightful and better than anything he could offer anyway. He wraps Cora up in a bear hug, squeezing the air out of her body.
“Dad!” She manages to squeak out and he presses his lips to her forehead before letting her go.
“I know I’m just your old man, but I’ll always be here for you.”
“I know,” Cora says. “Now, can we finish this up? I want to get back to my book. I was at the best part.”
“Is it one of the new ones you got.”
“Yeah!”
Why don’t you tell me about that then,” he says with a smile, returning to his knife and the task at hand.
And she does, softening again. It’s like a cool breeze amidst all the heat as they make quick work of the bird. They pack up what they can and make their way to Cora’s ship, The Hawk. He reckons it will take at least two—maybe three trips tops to get all the goods onto the ship.
About halfway through their trek, a ship lands a few hundred feet in front of them. The ground trembles under the weight of the landing platform, a swirl of dust obstructing their view. Then it clears, exposing about a dozen mercs—guessing Ecliptic by appearance—heading straight for them.
“Forget to make a payment on that loan you took out on your ship?” Sam asks, cocking his rifle.
“I paid it in full when I bought it. I think they’re after you.” Cora pulls her pistols from their holster and adjusts her backpack.
“Ask first and shoot later?”
“I think it’s shoot first, ask later.”
“Nah, I really think—”
The Ecliptic are on them and a bullet flies past Sam’s head, nearly brushing his hat. He glances over at Cora.
She smirks as she aims. “I’m always right.”
“You can gloat later,” Sam shouts as he tucks and rolls, dodging another stray bullet.
There’s a large boulder to his right and he rushes to it, skinning his knees as he slides in behind it. Cora follows his lead and scrambles, shrouding herself with the trunk of a tree. Ecliptic are more organized than spacers but still aren’t a match for the two of them. He aims and shoots. Cora does the same. The two in the front fall dead. One of the guys behind the fallen bodies trips and stumbles. Cora fires off another shot and takes him out.
“Care package!” Sam yells as he chucks a frag at the rest of the group.
Cora picks off the last two, her aim more accurate and deadly than Sam’s. The group is a pile of bodies and they exchange a congratulatory smile before coming out of their hiding places. Walking cautiously over to the dead, Sam counts the bodies. One, two—eleven.
“I thought there were twelve,” Sam says.
“Me too.”
Sam takes a glance around and spots the last guy heading east, sprinting off into the distance.
“Thanks for playing!” He shouts and gives a wave. “Bye!”
Cora lets out a small chuckle. “Think we should chase ‘em down?”
“Don’t think they’re gonna cause any trouble for us.” Sam shrugs and watches while Cora digs around in the dead merc’s pockets. She comes up with nothing.
“Lootin’ the dead ain’t glamorous but it sure is profitable.”
“Not in this case.” Cora sighs.
He waves a hand over them. “See anything on them like a slate? Might be able to find out why they came in guns a blazin.”
She continues to pat them down while Sam keeps watch.
“If there was a slate, it was probably on the runner.”
“Damn it.”
“Win some. Lose some.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Wait,” Cora says, pausing as she brushes dirt away from an insignia on the front of the suit. “I don’t think this is Ecliptic.”
Sam kneels next to her and with the adrenaline fading, he notices the differences between these mercenary suits and the usual ecliptic suits. Similar enough in style and color, it’s possible it’s still a subset of Ecliptic. But he doesn’t recognize the faction insignia at all.
“They all have this matching symbol,” Cora says. “Can you grab my camera for me from my backpack?”
Sam unzips her bag and digs around, pulling the camera free. “Got it.” He hands it over.
“Thank you.” Cora snaps a few close ups of the insignia before handing the camera back. “Maybe someone from Constellation will know what it means.”
“Maybe. We could also search their ship,” Sam suggests but as soon as he does, it begins to lift off.
“Think we missed our chance for that too.”
The ship takes off and they stare after it.
“Not our smoothest—”
“Hey, our response time was spectacular. We don’t have a single injury.” Cora lugs her backpack over her shoulders. “And we got what we came for. Smoother than a lot of our adventures.”
Sam chuckles. “Yeah, you’re right and any scrape you can walk away from is a good one.”
She throws him a big grin with a raised eyebrow.
“So smug. Wonder who you got that from?” He hauls his pack onto his back too and they make their first trip (of many) back to their ship.
Later, Sam kneels to the ground, eyeing the space where he and Cora killed the mercs. Someone moved the bodies, hints of where they were his only clue that they were there at all and he didn’t fabricate the whole scenario in his mind. He casts his gaze a little further and wider. The mercs were wearing heavy boots, bound to leave tracks behind. After a minute or two, he spots a patch of indented grass and the faintest of boot prints in the dirt heading east unlocking the memory of the runaway merc.
He doesn’t expect to find the runaway with the bodies gone. But on the off chance that the runaway is lingering nearby, he follows the trail as far as it goes. The sky shifts from a blanket of monochromatic hues of blue to a deep purple. The night might be gracious in offering unfiltered starlight but he doesn’t bank on it. He quickens his pace. Eventually the tracks peter out a few kilometers from where the dead bodies used to be and Sam finds higher ground in the lower bough of a tree.
With a better view, he spots the smoky remnants of a small fire and climbs back down. When he arrives at the dying embers, he bends low to the ground, fingers sprawling in search of any other clues. When he catches sight of another boot track, he stands up, ready to follow the new lead.
“Don’t move,” the cool butt of a gun is at the back of his head.
“Whoa, no need to let things escalate.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to speak, let alone make any demands.” A hand shoves at his back and Sam stumbles forward, making sure to over dramatize it by falling to his knees and hissing between his teeth.
He almost says he wasn’t making demands but pulls his dad card instead. “Please, I’m just an old man. Got a daughter to return to.”
A shot is fired. The bullet hits the patch of grass right next to Sam’s knee. The merc is serious, he can see that now but Sam’s always been good with people. Even the serious types. The serious types don’t take too kindly to his charm but they do take kindly to an old fashioned stroking of the ego. He’s always lived by the principle, that given a choice, he’d much rather talk his way out of a fight than slug it out.
“Bullshit. If she mattered so much to you, you wouldn’t have come looking for me. So from now on, I’ll do the talking.”
“You do have a way with words and a special sort of flair for survival,” Sam says and it’s enough of a praise.
His momentary captor starts monologuing. Blathers on about being left behind. Always forgotten. Which is a damn shame according to their perception of their own inflated skill sets. The rest of the speech settles in Sam’s mind as a static white noise. He focuses on digging into the dirt with his hand, remaining unnoticed. He manages to scrounge up a decent handful. Mixes a little sand in too. The merc is still throwing themselves a pity party when Sam hops to his feet and swivels, tossing the dirt straight into the merc’s eyes. A classic that hasn’t failed him yet.
“You’re dead,” the merc rages. One hand waving the gun around as they rub the dirt in with the other.
Sam rips the gun out of their hand and turns it on them. Smirks. “As a dead man, I’m the one haunting you and asking the questions now. Who do you work for?” Sam asks in a wavering spooky voice.
But there’s no words, only choking and gurgling sounds as the merc’s mouth fills with a bubbling white foam. Then they crash to the ground, dead.
“Well, shit. Hell of a place to have a seance,” he says sarcastically. “Knock once if you hear us spirits!” Sam says to himself as he pads the merc down, pressing his head close to the merc’s mouth where bubbles pop and the foam begins to dissipate. “No?” He shrugs.
Sam checks the pockets. There’s no slate on them either. But something tells him these aren’t mercs at all. Silence is better than spilling secrets, and this smells more foreboding than an unpaid debt. Worry pools in his stomach as he stands, pulling at his graying whiskers. Who exactly are they? But more importantly, what the hell do these people want with Cora?
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soulofapatrick · 1 year
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Best Friend’s Dad - Joel Miller x Reader
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Summary: Y/N and Joel have wanted each other for forever and turns out all it takes is the use of his name 
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: age gap but that's it  (I think)
Y/N’s POV: 
I just stare at the paint chipped door, trying to gain the courage to knock. Normally I’d just walk in and make myself at home but the gift in my hands make it rude to do that and I want to seem polite. A deep breath later I’m knocking and there’s movement from inside before the door swings open and he’s standing there, crease in his brow as he realises it’s me. 
He’s in just jeans and a loose light blue teeshirt, hair messy as if he’s just woken up and eyes glazed slightly. I try not to stare but the way his muscles bulge and flex under his shirt as he’s not build like a rock but he’s definitely muscular except for his stomach that just seems so soft, pressing ever so slightly against the shirt. It has my eyes trailing lower and swallowing thickly at the thought of how big he must me if the rest of him looks like that. 
He clears his throat, “Ellie’s not actually here at the moment,” Cognac eyes sliding down my body and back up, sending sparks through me as my outfit was intended to make him look. It’s simple enough but all of it hugs my dips and curves in all the right places. Who knew skinny jeans and a plain white button up tucked into the waistband of the jeans would have his cheeks flushing, “I actually though she’d be with you.” 
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” I send a nervous smile up at him before continuing, “I actually have something for you.” 
“For me?” His brows furrow even more until his face goes slack with shock when I hold out the bag of coffee. I swear lust crosses his face before he’s groaning quietly, regaining control of his usually emotional face, “Oh god, you’re an angel. Come in, come in.” 
I slip under his arm that’s holding the door open, toeing off my shoes before heading for the kitchen. I spend nearly all my time off patrols here if I’m not at the Tipsy Bison as one of my three best friends lives here. Ellie and I have been joined at the hip since I arrived and she doesn’t seem to care much for the three year age gap between us as she once drunkenly told me she saw me as a mother figure in her life. I never brought it up but I can’t deny it made me feel so proud. 
The french press is on the counter as if ready so I grab a filter and pour the coffee into it before boiling the water to add to it. It doesn’t take long for the comforting smell to fill the house and I’m leaning against the counter, letting my eyes slip shut as I think of the other not so pleasant reason I’m currently standing in his kitchen. 
Ellie; Jesse and Dina have threatened to take things into their own hands if I don’t do anything first so here I am because I don’t want them getting kicked out of Jackson for murder. Yeah, they’d definitely murder for me. I’d do the same for them. Everyone in town has dubbed us ‘The Terrible Four’ which is a shit name in my opinion. There are probably so many better names to come up with but the adults of this town seem to have no damn imaginations. 
“You’re in charge of the patrol routes and pairing, right?” I ask when I feel those familiar eyes burning on my skin, opening mine to see him leaned against the kitchen door frame, watching me. His eyes glide over me, recognition and confusion flitting through the cognac in them, taking in the way my knee is bouncing and I’m chewing on my bottom lip. His hands twitch by his sides as if he wants to come over but he stays where he is, rightening himself. 
“Is everything okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft and I can’t look at him as I don’t want to tell him. I have to. I should have a while ago but I don’t want to fuck up his planned schedule so instead I just push myself away from the counter with my foot and turn towards the cupboard with the mugs. A large hand grabs my arm, spinning me back around and I’m crowded against the counter as speaks again, “What’s wrong?” 
I try to regulate my breathing, the mixture of woodsmoke; burnt coffee and something citrusy is intoxicating in such close proximity. I’m rubbing my bruised wrist as I try to formulate the words I know have to leave my lips but they seem to just get stuck there so I take another deep breath before mumbling, “Let’s just say he keeps suggesting we check out how much the ski lodge beds can handle…” 
“The beds?” He asks, voice laced with confusion but I just focus on the way his chest rises and falls instead of explaining. He finally understands and the whole atmosphere changes as he grabs my hand, pushing up my sleeve to reveal the hand print bruise on my wrist that’s already fading. His voice sounds choked when he speaks again, “You should have told me sooner.”
“How could I?” I finally flick my eyes to meet his, the colour having darkened to a deep honey colour instead, “You’re my best friend’s dad.” 
“I’m also always here if you need anything.” The anger and sincerity in his voice seems to break my composure and I’m acting on instinct. I’m surging forwards, crashing my lips to his in a messy clash of teeth and gasps. His lips as so soft and pillowy except for the slightly chapped parts but they’re just how I imagined them to be. His calloused hands are cupping my face to keep me in place so he can lead the kiss instead. It’s feverish and hot and everything I’ve thought it would be those nights in my bed. He’s pulling away too soon, conflict written all across his face as he’s murmuring, “We can’t, you’re a child.”
“I’m 24.” I argue immediately, sticking my chin up in defiance and tightening my grip on his shirt as he tries to step away. This fantasy has just come true and I’m not letting it escape me just yet. He doesn’t put up much of a fight either: he’s the man everyone in town is wary of because of his brute strength and demeanour, “It’s only seventeen years.”
“We can’t. You’re Ellie’s best friend, what would she-“ 
“She doesn’t care.” I cut him off as it’s true. Ellie worked out my crush on her father figure even before I did and I know the three have bets on how long it’ll take for me to admit my feelings. I wonder who’s won when I finally say his name, it rolling off my tongue in a needy beg, “Joel.”
He seems to crumple and is mutter a quiet,”Fuck it” before I’m suddenly being sat on the counter with him placed between my legs. His forefinger and thumb grip my chin and guide me into a soft kiss, causing my hands to fly to his broad shoulders. He takes like coffee and cigarettes and it’s heavenly, already knowing I’m never going to get bored of this or him. I’m brushing my tongue against his bottom lip but he nips at it, slowing the kiss even more as if trying to drive me crazy. I want him to ruin me and have me being so loud the whole town knows he’s mine and I’m his but his kiss is soft and slow as if he’s taking his time. 
“Y/N,” He’s resting his forehead against mine, hands sliding down my sides to splay on my hips, but as he goes to say something the smell of something starting to burn registers with me. 
“Shit! The coffee!” I’m pushing Joel away so I can jump off the counter and move the bubbling mess from the heat, grabbing a spoon and stirring it to see how badly it’s burn but it’s not much. A firm body presses against my back as Joel reaches into the cupboard to grab two coffee mugs has my breath hitching at the feeling of him poking into my ass before he’s gone, heading to the adjoining living room. 
I send him the scariest death glare I can as I join him on the sofa, pouring us a mug of coffee each before sitting next to him. I risk sitting almost too close but he just chuffs, pulling me back against his chest with his right arm over my shoulder as he settle into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the fresh coffee. 
Unlike most people, coffee seems to send me to sleep rather than being a caffeine kick so it doesn’t take long for my eyes to start slipping shut and I keep trying to shake myself awake. Joel’s chest rumbles with amusement every time until I finally give in, putting my now empty mug on the coffee table and turning my body in his arms. I’m practically sitting in his lap, my head on his chest, legs over his lap and hand tucked under my body gripping his shirt while he intertwines my other hand with his. He presses a kiss to the back of my hand before settling our intertwined hands on his chest and I’m being dragged into the abyss, the promise of tomorrow hanging overhead. 
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thepearlyone · 9 months
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Genital Contact Not Necessary
[A story I ended up writing from stuff I learned at Beguiled! Including the title. Please enjoy.]
"So, how do these exactly work?" Kate quizzically turned, facing the small mirror on the side of the hall. The simply furnished passage of Moira's apartment had a very plain side table for two, in between two chairs with white smooth tips on the bottom. On it, the aforementioned Pearls- two earrings of perfect roundness, about 20 mm in size- and which Moira had alluded to.
She idly picked one up, noticing the lack of earring post- instead placing it carefully on her ear, where it stayed precisely in the center. It didn't look too bad...
But it needed a friend- and her arm curiously darted for its twin.
"I mean, I get that I'm supposed to wear these as earrings-" She didn't quite spot the hands slinking behind her- catching her in a tight embrace, each one now keeping her shoulders still and straight, Moira's fingers expertly massaging them as she was pulled into a gentle yet inescapable embrace.
“Oh, those look lovely on you, Kate. I knew that you’d enjoy them…” Moira giggled, gently holding Kate still in her entryway. It hadn’t quite been her plan to start so suddenly, but Kate certainly had been curious about her involvement in the Legion.
Upon noticing her softly shut eyes, Moira purred-
"You know, if you want them to be there permanently, *WE* can make that happen."
Kate squealed, at both the astonishing mention of permanently wearing them, and picturing the perfect iridescent hemispheres now on display in her ears.
Moira paused for a moment to admire them as well, pulling her arms forward to idly rock Kate back and forth, her fingers now smoothly pressing against the smooth white surfaces of Kate's Pearls.
"Mmmmmm... whatever you're doing with your fingers is lovely..." It was nothing more than a slow rolling gasp, but it would suffice. The susurrant pleasure mixed and rolled, intertwining with Moira's gentle rocking. Kate began to smile, the feelings becoming much smoother to her...
"Lovely, isn't it? This is what's called stroking your Pearls. Of course, I'm stroking YOUR Pearls, not mine- so the wording's- okay, I think you understand." Moira eagerly giggled, getting a little too fixated on the idea.
"Mmm, okay. Stroking the Pearls..." Kate nodded, giggling back softly- mirroring what she'd heard.
"Yeah, they release a bunch of endorphins to make you feel good. They begin to mentally bond with you, forming a connection. It's.. hm. It's almost like making a conduit between two points, or connecting a junction box, or-"
Kate interrupted excitedly, pulling free of the grasp she'd been placed in with a slight twirl.
"Ooh! Or like connecting pipes, or like that water flow game! I love that one!"
Moira laughed openly as her dommey bubble was nerdily burst. Kate had expressed interest earlier in how she'd done that silly 'telekinesis' display, despite all of it just being simple Pearl manipulation that even first-month Legionnaire students were experts at. She reached out in her mind, her twin Pearl earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as she ‘pulled’ the chair forward.
"Exactly. These pretty little Pearls are what connect us Legionnaires to the rest of the Legion." Kate gasped, the chair very gently nudging at her calf- and she obligingly sat down, eyes wide with mystery.
"However," Moira continued, "they do filter a lot of their own strength, much like our pipes, so you don't get blasted with the full pressure all at once." Her hands gestured, pulling the table out of the way without touching it- just as she'd done with the chair.
"I.. see. And those do feel very good in, well, their own way." Kate blushed involuntarily, attempting to deflect what types of emotions she'd been feeling moments ago.
"My dear, you're welcome to express yourself- and yes, in any way you please." Moira chortled, using her hands to pull off an orange-purple-white scarf from the side table.
"If anything, that's what this meeting was about." Kate paused, letting the words hang in the air. Her eyebrows furled. Had it been that obvious this whole time?
"You were curious, and I thought that it would be best to introduce certain things... slowly. Most people I've chatted with about this topic don't tend to take certain aspects of myself or the Legion very seriously." Moira waited, ending the sentence with a wink.
Kate opened her mouth- but slowly shut it, letting the silence in between the cracks of the conversation. She nodded- some of it striking home. Her own thoughts had often been shot down, and she knew the pain of being unable to merely mention certain subjects out of the fear of ‘awkward’- much less the stigma of… whatever the Legion must feel like.
"That's enough of that, though. I'd like to hear your thoughts, what that all felt like. It's... delightful seeing a new potential Legionnaire enjoying herself." Moira winked with a grin, sitting down with her arms atop the back of the chair.
“O-oh.” Kate squirmed slightly, blinking a few times while collecting her thoughts- yet not wanting to take the Pearls off just yet.
They did feel so delightful, almost like there was a calming weight to them- though they weren’t burdensome. When she’d been wearing them, they felt weightless- along with her thoughts…
“Well… I really like how they make me feel. There’s a sort of relaxing quality to them, and if they’re like, magic? From everything you’ve said, including previous conversations, you always describe it as an enlightening feeling? And I’m not really sure how that tied into everything- but I’m glad they help you.”
She stammered out a response- meeting Moira’s wide knowing smile. Moira leaned in, petting aside her hair. The flawless iridescent spheres peeked through the forest of Kate’s hair, only for them to be fully put on display.
“And do you know how one makes them... permanent?” Kate blushed, shaking her head as Moira leaned in seductively. After all, the possibility was rather new to her- their chats about the Legion had mostly involved them being a book club- but come to think of it, all of them always had Pearls in their ears…
Moira continued after a pause. “While wearing them, you make a… pledge, of sorts. You orgasm- making a sort of pact with them. They pierce your ears, and make the connection so much stronger.”
Her voice was turning softer, more sensual- a tone of reverence sneaking into her voice. Moira paused, just for a moment- eyes locked on Kate to confirm their mutual interest.
“Not only that, but… you hear our Queen’s voice deep within your mind.”
“Oh.” Kate turned a bright red.
“I suppose you may not have realized this, but there’s an element of us Legionnaires being a hive mind to it as well.” At this point, Moira was very close by- and Kate had turned her head slightly away.
“But that isn’t a problem is it, dear?” Moira grinned, tilting Kate’s chin up as the subject trapped by societal convention- pinned by Moira’s gaze above her.
“N-no, actually… erm, these sorts of things are- well, you called them something like… unserious, before, right? Other people usually have issues with those topics?” Moira nodded slowly, as if observing Kate’s more obvious physical reactions while listening.
“I, erm. Like hypnosis. That’s how we met at that venue- there was a little hypnotist show off in the corner. It… was terrible, very poorly done, but I still really enjoyed it. And if I have to be explicit about it, in THAT kind of way.”
“Oh! An eager subject, are we?” The overly fake Domme voice Moira had previously used slipped back- causing Kate to giggle, blush, and squirm even more.
“Well, Kate- you probably would be fine with the assimilative aspects of the Pearl Legion in that case- welcoming you into our fold, providing optional brainwashing, the voice of the Pearl Queen in the back of your head, or sometimes very much in the forefront- basically, if you don’t have a problem with… well, explicit mind control for the betterment of humanity…” Moira trailed off, her eyebrows peaking slightly. Kate had picked up and was okay with far more than she’d thought- and it wasn’t entirely out of a need to tease her this time.
Kate paused, holding up her hand in an outstretched palm of ‘stop’.
“Moira. I’m going to lay this all out on the table.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
“The way these Pearls make me feel is lovely, wonderful, exciting to think about, and simply splendid. They’re very tempting, but I’m not sure I’m ready for such a commitment yet. I want to be right for the Legion- and with our other discussions in mind, not yet. That’s still a maybe. On the other hand, I’m very much into hypnosis- and the idea of you trancing me is so fucking hot I really really want that if that’s on the table and sorry if it’s too forward of me for right now.”
Moira stared at Kate for a moment, eyes blinking suddenly. Well, the cute gal she’d managed to meet had enjoyed all of it. What a delight- but what a predicament!
“Are you okay with the more, uh, sexual advances happening?” Her voice faltered, asking just for confirmation.
“…I thought that’s why you’d been making them?” Kate now had her own eyebrows furrowed, energetically getting up from the table and crossing her arms.
It was Moira’s turn to go into the Gay Box of Not Realizing Someone’s Flirting In That Way.
“I can see that you’re going to need a moment, so I’m just going to say- yes.” Kate pinned her leather jacket to one of the hooks nearby, revealing the simple prideful stripe of a rainbow across her shirt- the look of which later reminded both of a recent season of a treasured TV show.
Moira stammered a few times, which Kate recognized as needing a moment.
“Would you be able to make us some tea, Moira? And we’ll discuss further then. Let’s just give a bit of space for both of us to breathe.”
///
Kate had since taken off the Pearls, admiring their carrying case. It was somewhat impractical for daily use, but since most of the Legionnaires ended up… well, orgasming for the Pearl Queen, and submitting to Her power, letting the Pearls connect permanently to them- it made sense that such a chunky wooden box would be made more for display than daily use. It was a simple wood exterior, reminding her of any typical jewelry box- if slightly bigger to allow both Pearls to fit in while angling up to meet the eyes of any potential Legionnaire.
“Moira. Are you ready to discuss some sort of consent agreement? Or perhaps… what we were discuss earlier?”
“Yes, now that I’ve had a bit of time to think about it.” She paused, taking a deep breath in between.
“From what I understand, Kate- you’d like to be hypnotized entirely using the Pearls as a focus. Am I to then assume you’ve been hypnotized before, and found the situation delightful?” The question was maybe equally prying as it was priming her subject-to-be, but it was acceptable to the lady across from her.
“That’s right- I really enjoyed the permanence talk earlier, but would like to veer away from that for right now. The swaying and stroking were fantastic too, so if there’s a way to incorporate those- and maybe steer clear of any sort of… hrm, nether regions talk?” Kate’s hand curled around her own hair, twisting with a hint of timidity and a splash of trepidation.
“That’s definitely something I could do- focusing on your arousal entirely independent of anything below your hips. It’s not too uncommon for many Legionnaires- the Pearls eventually become their own erogenous zones. As if they aren’t already!” Moira mused, cueing laughter from both of them.
“I think I’ve got something- if you’re ready, we could proceed to my bedroom?” She leaned forward into Kate, still towering over her- using her posture to communicate deeper understanding and submission.
Kate slipped her hand into Moira’s, which had not been offered previously and was just swaying by the side of her hip. This caused no end of blushing and stammering for both of them, before Kate finally led Moira back towards the bedroom.
“So you know how these work, then, don’t you?” Moira grinned, offering her the wooden box. This was where it all would begin.
Kate nodded, accepting it with open hands as she strolled towards the bed and sat down.
“Of course, but we’re not going into the more… intense aspects. Yet.” Her fingers popped open the lid, revealing the twin iridescent hemispheres.
“And because you know just how wonderful they feel, how relaxed they can help you feel- you know exactly what to do.” Kate blushed with a giggle- noticing how Moira’s tone was now much more seductive. She’d whispered so softly, and she was becoming captivated with its resonance.
“And you want to touch them, don’t you? Go ahead- feel free to answer.”
“Yes.” She smirked, one finger slipping towards them-
“Wait.” Kate’s fingers paused, the next words flowing out of Moira’s mouth.
“Say ‘Yes, Moira’.”
“Yes, Moira.”
“Good girl.” Moira’s big wide grin returned, her own finger beginning to stroke Kate’s shoulders soothingly- eliciting a slow sigh from her.
“And it feels so good to listen to my words, your curiosity being unable to stop you from gently touching the Pearls. You want so badly to just reach out and touch them, to slip your fingers around them and put them back on- right, Kate?”
“Yes, Moira.” Her eyes focused on the shimmering iridescent Pearls, idly tracing her fingers around their edges much like Moira had done.
“It would be oh so easy to just stroke them.. to just feel yourself relax enough to feel good about putting them on- and just imagine how your ears would look wearing them again. How pretty, how proper, how good they feel.”
“Yes, Moira…” Kate squirmed on the bed, shoulders beginning to slump forward while still staring at the box between her hands.
“See? Your body’s already beginning to relax, to let the Pearls feel so good, to let My words slip deeper into your mind. And you want to feel them- to wear them on your ears for Me.”
“I- yes, Moira.” Kate wiggled even more, hand starting to bring them up to her ears.
“Attagirl. We both knew you couldn’t resist putting them back where they belong- they feel so nice, so soothing, so calming…” At this point, Moira had her trapped in a gentle swaying embrace, standing over her while massaging her shoulders.
”You might begin to feel even more and more relaxed, or you might begin to feel everything- all that stress, tension, drawing into the Pearls and concentrating there. Either way, you’re just right here, in My arms…”
“Yes, Moira.” She tapped Moira’s arm twice with one finger, following the guidelines they’d set out earlier.
“Is it the power of the Pearls? Or is it My words, drawing you deeper, helping you relax... drawing all that stress away…”
“Yes, Moira…” Kate’s arm trembled slightly, pressing the second Pearl in with a soft gasp. Both of them felt connected, pulsing softly with such blissful energy.
“It doesn’t matter- it only matters that you obey… that you say Yes, Moira- that you stroke your Pearls and relax…”
“Yes, Moira…” Kate could barely keep her eyes open amidst each soothing wave of iridescent perfection- she could feel Moira’s breaths as they slowly synced up… in, out, pushing any other thoughts away.
“Good girl. Such a good girl, wearing pretty Pearls for Me- letting those thoughts slip away…”
“mmmmm…” The soft moan was all that was left of her conscious mind, overwhelmed and subsumed by the pleasure.
“Attagirl.” Moira’s fingers danced atop their white surfaces, slowly and carefully tracing perfect circles on the Pearls in front of her.
“You’re being so good, giving in to the hypnosis- the powerful pretty Pearls in your ears drawing you deeper… helping you relax and submit.” Her arms were cradling Kate now, having slipped behind her.
“giving in… goooooood.” Moira giggled at the blissful remark from the dreamy headed gal in her arms.
“That’s right. It feels so good to give in to the hypnosis, to let that softness bring you deeper under the Pearls’ control for now.”
“give in.. control.”
“Very good. May I reward you with a kiss on the cheek? Say ‘Yes, Moira’ if I may, and one long tap if I may not.” Kate dazedly tapped twice, clearly just a little bit confused.
Moira leaned in and gently kissed her subject’s cheek. A gasp drew itself from Kate’s mouth, and Moira could see just how deep she’d become now- the Pearls were truly excellent assistants.
By this point, Kate could feel the Pearls softly pulsing with their rewarding pleasure- something that Moira felt all too intensely now that she was a full-blown Legionnaire.
“Very good, Kate- I’m sure you know what it feels like to relax. You’re very clearly enjoying this, I can tell. You’ve got the cutest trance-face.”
Kate giggled, a blissful smile wide across her face, eyes closed shut. It was like soaking in a bright pool, just on the top of it- only it was an iridescent smooth seafoam-glowing pool now.
“Would you like to tell Me what it feels like, Kate?”
“Yes, Moira…” The response was automatic, almost robotic- exciting Moira in a way she hadn’t expected before.
“feels… relaxing, calming, soothing.” Those were expected responses.
“Pearls very good. Want to keep wearing… feel wonderful, feel like…” Okay, those were pretty normal as well. Everyone who truly desired them *did* enjoy them deeply.
“slaaaaave…” The blissful exhalation was followed by Kate’s hips bucking, a clear show of the arousal she felt.
“Red.” Moira carefully hugged Kate.
All of a sudden, everything slowed for Kate- the soft pulsing from the Pearls reversed, pushing the thoughts and consciousness back into her head.
“Kate… That’s not something we’d discussed, but that’s also something I’m VERY eager and curious about. However, you’re not able to negotiate that right now- so I have to stop you right there.”
Another deep breath from the two of them, letting their minds relax and refresh- one coming back up from the deeply entranced state, the other coming off the high of such intimate control.
“Coming back up for me in three, two, and one-” Moira snapped her fingers, lifting them up off of Kate’s arm. Her other hand and posture supported Kate while she did so- but her subject’s finger indicated she wished to lie there for a few moments, so Moira withdrew slightly.
Kate silently lay back on the bed for a few moments. She’d been cognizant of what she was doing for a little while now, but it still felt so… real. When Moira pulled the Pearls away just for a bit, she’d felt her heart plunge for a few seconds- but it was a quick recovery. It made sense that people could enjoy them so deeply.
“Moira?”
“Yes, Kate?” Moira was just behind her now, pulling her up into a soft embrace on her lap-
“Could we have more tea, and maybe discuss that? That might be something for… much later.”
“More tea would be lovely, dear.” She giggled, earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as her kettle was moved back into position from its resting point on the counter and switched on.
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By: Benjamin Radford
Published: Jan 19, 2024
A few years ago I was asked by an author to review his book, and it contained a discussion of the pyramids at Ghiza. I gave him the following feedback:
“You have a big red herring argument at the bottom of p. 36: ‘not a single group has been able to successfully erect even a scaled-down’ pyramid…. ‘even the skeptical community should be able to build an exact replica…’ This is seriously flawed reasoning, and you repeat this error four or five times. The burden of proof is on those making the extraordinary claim (‘aliens did it’) not the ordinary claim (‘ancient Egyptians did it).’ By your logic, geologists who counter creationist claims about the Grand Canyon would have to spend billions of dollars divert a river over a plain to prove that it was created over millennia by water erosion instead of created that way by God some 4,000 years ago.”
I added that researchers in fact have a pretty good idea of how the pyramids were built. The fact that none of them have (or have tried to) build a replica of the Great Pyramids doesn’t logically mean they are wrong.
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[ The author deciding whether or not to build a full-scale replica of the Great Pyramids. ]
The idea of replicating a controversial event or project to test its validity sounds simple in theory. For example some people claim that the Egyptian pyramids were made (or designed) by aliens or ancient astronauts. The (ahistorical) assumption is that people at the time didn’t have the intelligence or technology to move the stones and build a pyramid shape.
Since the pyramids were built around 2560 BC there are no photographs or depictions of them being created, though in 2015 papyrus records were found of pyramid construction tools, and legions of pyramid builders’ graves were found in 2010, for example. Egyptologists have a pretty good idea of where the rocks were quarried and how they were cut and moved, but doubters are fond of noting that scientists have never actually replicated the pyramids. They claim that skeptics or scientists must build an entire pyramid to prove how it could have been done, using materials and tools of that era.
This seems like a reasonable challenge until you realize why such an effort would never be done—not because it can’t be done but because it would be impractical. Duplicating the great Ghiza pyramid would take many years and cost tens of millions of dollars. Who’s going to pay for it? It would also be pointless, since such a replication experiment would not be valid unless you used tens of thousands of workers (estimate range from 15,000 to 40,000) and spent a decade or more building it (as the original did). If some eccentric billionaire wants to fund it he or she should feel free, but scientists recognize it as an enormous cost and effort just to disprove some wild theories about aliens—which it wouldn’t do anyway.
Replicating 9/11
A similarly misguided idea got notoriety in May 2015 when a man named Paul Salo launched a crowdfunding project which, he claimed, would prove once and for all whether the conspiracy theories about the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks are true or not. On his Indiegogo campaign Salo wrote: “Many people want to know more about 9-11. We are like a Mythbusters for September 11th. It’s an important project for many reasons. Many people doubt various details of 9-11. As the world has changed our trust in government and media has declined significantly. We want to see for ourselves. We don’t need people to guide our thinking. In this project we will recreate 9-11 to the best of our ability given the funds raised. Our ultimate goal is a fully loaded 767 and a similar structure to the WTC. We will crash the fully loaded (with fuel) plane (complete with black box) into the building using autopilot at 500 MPH.”
Salo aimed to test the widely-challenged (in conspiracy circles anyway) claim that jet fuel can burn hot enough to sufficiently weaken a building’s steel structure that it collapses—instead of, for example, the Twin Towers coming down due to hidden explosives. While Salo’s scheme to duplicate the Twin Towers attack had a simple and populist appeal, actually pulling it off as a valid scientific experiment would be incredibly difficult and expensive, if not impossible. For a real science experiment you need to control for variables that could affect the results; in this case there are many variables including size and weight of the plane, the building type, and so on.
Salo promised that “You will be able to see for yourself what happens under these extreme circumstances. I’m not sure which country we will purchase the aircraft and building but it doesn’t really matter much.” Actually Salo would find when talking to engineers that it matters greatly where the building is, since building codes vary wildly by country and region. Buildings in earthquake-prone regions are built differently (and able to sustain greater structural damage without collapsing) than those built elsewhere. Variations in construction materials will also complicate comparisons. Each building’s architecture is different, and will not necessarily react the same way to the same structural damage. In order for the experiment to be valid, he would need to build an exact replica of the Twin Towers; not just any tall building will do, since the load-bearing structures vary from building to building.
He planned to “recreate as best as we can” the circumstances of the World Trade Center attacks. The problem is that “as best as we [that is, he] can” would leave an enormous margin of error, one so big as to make any results invalid and pointless. His results, should he have pulled it off, would be dramatic and sensational but hold no evidentiary value at all.
As with many such replications, Salo’s experiment would in fact be pointless and inconclusive no matter its outcome: If the building collapsed exactly as happened on September 11, conspiracy theorists would argue—correctly—that the conditions weren’t exactly the same as in the original building collapse. If the building collapses differently, that won’t prove anything either, for the same reason. Neither anyone questioning or defending the “official story” will accept his conclusions and admit they were wrong. Salo’s grand scheme went nowhere.
Bigfoot’s Famous Film
I’ve heard some version of this question dozens of times during my career as a monster investigator. Though I’ve investigated the best photographic evidence for several mysterious creatures—most prominently the 1977 photograph of the Champ lake monster, as seen in the articles Joe Nickell and I wrote in the July/August 2003 issue of Skeptical Inquirer and in our book Lake Monster Mysteries—I hadn’t done an in-depth investigation into the famous 1967 footage taken in Bluff Creek, California, by Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin (P/G). The film is said to show a female Bigfoot (dubbed Patty) walking across a riverbed.
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The film has been the subject of controversy and debate for half a century, and is routinely cited as the gold standard for Bigfoot footage (even some fifty-five years later, which is deeply suspicious given the ubiquity of high-quality smartphone cameras since then). Though the footage is blurry, one thing is clear: it’s either a hoax or a Bigfoot. Skeptics have offered damning analyses, both of Patterson and the murky circumstances under which the film was created and developed; see for example Greg Long’s The Making of Bigfoot and Daniel Loxton and Donald Prothero’s Abominable Science. Bigfoot believers offer a variety of responses, many of which wrongly place the burden of proof on skeptics, such as “If it’s a guy in a suit, where is the suit?” and “If it’s faked, why can’t anyone re-create the film using materials available in 1967?”
The alleged failure of the film to be recreated by researchers has long been a popular talking point among Bigfoot believers. A few examples will suffice; a fellow named Scott Renchin, in replying to a Skeptoid YouTube video about the P/G film, wrote in January 2022 that “A real skeptic would prove the film is a hoax by recreating the film using techniques and materials used to create the alleged hoax footage… the BBC did this already and failed miserably.” This same BBC show was also directed to me by noted cryptozoologist Ken Gerhard and others.
Film Replication Claims
The literature on this just-under-one minute film is both voluminous and contentious and there’s a lot to unpack. I’ll begin by noting that my focus is not on Bigfoot’s existence generally, nor even on the authenticity of the film specifically. Over and over when seeking information on this topic, respondents invariably went off topic and dove into why the film is obviously a hoax—or just as obviously authentic. Instead my topic is very specific, and simple: Who, specifically, has actually tried to replicate the film itself, using what equipment, and when? What documentation do we have of sincere, dedicated efforts by knowledgeable experts to create footage that matches the P/G image?
Researchers have tried to recreate the movement of the subject in the film. My colleague Dave Daegling, for example conducted a detailed analysis of the P/G film in his book Bigfoot Exposed and explored the question of whether a human could walk like the creature in the film. He determined that—like the creature’s size and speed which are well within human limitations—it is certainly possible for a person to walk the way it does using what’s called a compliant gait. It’s not the most comfortable method of locomotion for a human, but it’s easy to adopt with a bit of practice and doesn’t rule out a person in a suit.
It was certainly possible to create a realistic costume like that seen in the film in 1967. Planet of the Apes, for example, was released the following year, albeit with the help of professional makeup and costumers.
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Those resources would not have been available to Patterson and Gimlin, though Planet of the Apes required close-ups of the actors including faces in sharp focus, whereas the P/G footage is at a great distance, out of focus, blurry, and unstable—all factors that (intentionally or otherwise) obscure details, thwart analysis, and facilitate fakery. The out of focus background actors in ape costumes are a very close match for “Patty.” Hollywood special effects experts including Stan Winston, when asked about the footage, have declared the footage bogus and said that what’s seen in the film would certainly have been possible in the 1960s. In fact a fairly realistic gorilla costume appeared in the film Are You With It?—from 1948, nearly two decades before Patterson and Gimlin set out to film a Bigfoot.
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[ Film still from 1948’s “Are You With It?” ]
Instead the question is about replication of the film itself, which is a far more challenging and expensive task, and would require not only the original equipment but a reasonably similar costume, gait, location, environment, and so on.
Where’s Bigfoot (Recreations)?
Alleged films trying to replicate the P/G footage turned out to be nearly as elusive as Bigfoot itself. I found a handful of videos of television shows attempting (usually lightheartedly) to make their own Bigfoot films, while not making any serious attempt to replicate the P/G film per se. For example one show, Evening Magazine, described their half-baked, tongue-in-cheek stab at it in 2005: “We wondered what it would look like if we tried to make a Bigfoot film of our own… We picked up a gorilla suit at Champion Party Supply and made no modifications to it. We used a 16 mm film camera, roughly like the one Patterson used.”
In my questioning of Bigfoot proponents I was often assured that many (or at least “several”) attempts had been made to replicate the film, but when pressed to name one, the BBC show was prominently mentioned (often accompanied by chiding about how I should do better research). Searching for something more substantive and scientific, I reached out to Daniel Perez, a respected Bigfoot researcher and publisher of Bigfoot Times newsletter, to ask if he was aware of any attempts to replicate the film. He kindly provided a list of references to material about the film. Of those, about a half dozen were television shows, and of those only two mentioned any replication or recreation. The first was a 2007 Discovery Channel show titled Best Evidence: Bigfoot which Perez notes “covers the attempted replication of the movements seen in the P-G film” (emphasis added). As noted, this is not the question at hand and in any event if anything casts doubt on the film’s authenticity.
The second was to a 1998 BBC show titled The X-Creatures: Shooting The Bigfoot (available on YouTube under the title The X Creatures Bigfoot and Yeti); see stills below. Of this episode, Perez notes that “The show attempts to recreate the P-G film but certainly appears to fail miserably.” I reviewed the episode a dozen times, and here’s exactly how the narrator describes the attempt (at the 20 minute mark): “Using the same distances recorded at Bluff Creek, the same camera and lens, and an amateur operator, it’s possible to exactly recreate the action of 1967.”
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To be clear: The show at no point claims to recreate the Patterson/Gimlin film itself; instead it’s an attempt at recreating the action depicted in the film, which is a very different matter. Accident and crime reconstruction analysts recreate actions all the time, using anything from toy cars to computer animation. It’s a fairly straightforward process that does not require replicating all the relevant conditions at play when an event occurred. Even when an accident or crime is recorded on video, the investigators need not recreate the video itself, just the actions of people and objects seen in the video.
The goal of the X-Creatures show was to determine how plausible Patterson and Gimlin’s claims are using only two criteria: the reported distance, and the original camera and lens. That’s it. The show makes this crystal clear: “The most important revelation… is how close Roger and Bob were to the creature; they were right on top of it, which makes the behavior even less natural. It walked away, utterly unconcerned… At this distance, with this lens, you’re certain to get the creature in the frame—unless you artificially wobble the camera.”
There was no attempt at replicating the original film. Nor, for that matter, was there any attempt at duplicating the costume, which would be necessary for recreating the film. We can plainly see that the hair color is wrong, the hair length is wrong, the size is wrong, the musculature is wrong, and the feet they used looks nothing like what could possibly have made the tracks allegedly found at the site. The angle to the creature is wrong, the terrain is wrong, and so on.
I still have not found a single film or video attempt at recreating the Patterson/Gimlin film using period equipment, the correct location, a credible costume, and other important criteria. Defenders of the P/G film can’t have it both ways, disingenuously arguing on one hand that this BBC show was the best filmmaking expertise made to replicate the film while smugly noting that it was an obvious failure because it looks nothing like the original.
With Bigfoot proponents unable to identify a single attempted film recreation, I tried a different approach and asked Craig Scott Lamb, a filmmaker, film historian, and administrator of the Ape Suit Cinema, a Facebook group dedicated to filmed ape costumes. Lamb replied, “I know of no actual attempts by special FX professionals to replicate what was seen in the Patterson film. However considering the cost of a pro ape suit I can certainly understand the lack of motivation… In other words who’s going to foot the bill?”
Lamb’s question is as enlightening as his answer: No special effects experts he’s aware of have even tried to replicate the P/G costume—much less in service of a failed attempt to replicate the film itself— but he’s exactly correct about one of the key impediments to replication. Whether the Patterson/Gimlin film is real or not, the fact that no one has tried to replicate it is irrelevant to its authenticity.
More importantly, the Bigfoot community has the logic exactly backwards: the question is not why no one has replicated the film if it’s a hoax, but instead why no one has replicated the film if it’s real. In other words (regardless of the film’s authenticity) why does the best Bigfoot footage date back to the Lyndon Johnson administration and the release of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?
This poses a serious blow to the film’s credibility: these Bigfoot creatures are really out there wandering in front of eyewitnesses with cameras, why haven’t better films and videos emerged in the past fifty-six years?  Both still and video cameras have become much higher quality and much cheaper over the past decades. It used to be that quality cameras were needed to take high-quality photographs; anyone could take a blurry Disneyland vacation photo with a pocket camera, but to get clear, sharp shots you often needed a more expensive camera and lens.
These days most people have a twelve megapixel high-definition camera in their pocket smartphones, which provide stabilizing, zoom, and other features that would have been the envy of Hollywood only a decade ago. At no time in history have so many people had high-quality cameras on them virtually all the time. If Bigfoot, Nessie, and the chupacabra exist, logically the photographic evidence for them should improve significantly over the years. Yet it hasn’t. Photographs of people, cars, mountains, flowers, sunsets, deer, and literally everything else in the world have gotten sharper and clearer over the years. The only exceptions are things never proven real, such Bigfoot, ghosts, and UFOs.
It’s true that replicating the P/G film would be difficult and expensive, but this has nothing to do with the content of the film. To use a simple analogy, period Hollywood films are notoriously expensive for the simple reason that to make them look authentic the production designers must locate era-appropriate props, costumes, and more. A film set in the early 1900s, for example, may need vintage vehicles, clothing, telephones, and so on. These can be rented from prop shops, but still require much more effort and cost to secure than would ordinary objects of today.
If someone did spend considerable time and effort to create a convincing costume and setting, that would not serve to silence the critics but bolster them; the response would not be, “Yes, you’re right, it can be credibly duplicated” but instead, “Yes, but see how much money you had to spend! Patterson and Gimlin didn’t have these resources, so it couldn’t have been faked!”
Replication in Investigation
Replication can certainly play an important role in skeptical investigation, though recreating the circumstances surrounding an “unexplained” event is far more crucial than necessarily duplicating or replicating a given sighting, photograph, or video.
It’s actually quite easy to capture a photographic image that cannot be replicated in every detail. A photograph is a two-dimensional representation of a split-second moment in time (depending, of course, on how long the exposure is) in a constantly changing environment. Replicating some photos is easy—a close-up of a shiny penny in fixed studio lighting, for example. But outdoor photographs, or those of urban settings, can be difficult or impossible to exactly replicate in every detail—which is the standard often demanded. Clouds come and go by the hour (sometimes by the minute); leaves move position in even a slight wind.
Keep in mind that a full and true replication may require the original people or objects, under the exact same conditions. Depending on what part of the image is under scrutiny (a dark manlike patch in shady wooded area, a face seen in a ghost image, or an odd light in the sky) the image may look different. Sunlight reflection off a gleaming polished fender of a 1958 Corvette, for example, might potentially help explain a mysterious light or image. Substituting a 1984 Honda or a 2012 Ford in a replication photograph may not get the same results.
A close-up photograph of an egg taken in 1950 might look identical to one taken with the same camera and lighting as one taken a century later in 2050. But in most cases a landscape photo will be difficult or impossible to exactly replicate 100 years later. But more importantly, the task of recreating the film, as a practical matter, is enormously difficult under the best of circumstances. We can begin with the terrain, which like all other natural habitats, has of course changed significantly in the past fifty-five years. Consider all the environmental factors at play: Trees die and fall, rivers and streams move, and so on.
I’ve done replication in some of my investigations, including for the Santa Fe Courthouse Ghost, Sandra Mansi’s photograph of the Lake Champlain monster, and so on. But I’m always careful to include qualifiers and not claim to have duplicated anything exactly, but merely as best I can under the circumstances. Claims about how skeptics can’t (or won’t) duplicate things such as the Patterson/Gimlin Bigfoot film, or the pyramids, or anything else are spurious red herrings.
The question has broader implications for investigative skepticism. In many cases, using the principle of Occam’s Razor, replication should be enough to demonstrate that an extraordinary claim is indeed unlikely to be true. For example self-described psychic-turned-“entertainment artist” Uri Geller rose to international prominence in the 1970s and 1980s performing various acts which could be—and have been—duplicated by professional magicians, perhaps most notably the late Amazing Randi. This does not of course provide conclusive proof that Geller was simply a skilled magician instead of a psychic, which is after all impossible to prove. It does, however, give critical thinkers a logical, rational, science-based reason to doubt the claims.
Science is based on comparisons—between control groups and experimental groups, for example. By controlling variables and comparing two groups of people or situations, scientists can tease out what factors are at play. The key here is the variables under control.  A photograph, film, or video represents a fixed—and usually very short—moment in time. With the exception of long exposures, most photos are a two-dimensional representation of what was in front of a lens for a fraction of a second. We can’t see what happened just before or after the shutter opened. The P/G film, which is after all just a series of photographs when speeded up give the illusion of movement, is just under a minute long, and one reason it’s suspect is that we don’t see the figure coming into or exiting the frame.
For more on the topic of science and replication see my Skeptical Inquirer article “Skepticism and Pseudoexperiments” in the September/October 2020 issue.
Data Replication
Though I’ve focused here mostly on photographic replication, there are other aspects worth mentioning. The issue of replication in science is pretty straightforward: It’s essential for establishing the validity on an experiment. Because well-controlled studies are difficult to design and carry out, there is always the chance that a given outcome will be the result of random chance, experimenter bias, or any number of other factors. If a result is true and valid, then any other researchers following identical procedures should, in theory, get similar result—though, it should be noted, they may not necessarily interpret the results in the same way.
Replication is such an issue in science that the inability to replicate results has garnered significant attention. BBC News reported that “Concern over the reliability of the results published in scientific literature has been growing for some time. According to a survey published in the journal Nature more than 70% of researchers have tried and failed to reproduce another scientist’s experiments.” Skeptical investigation sometimes involves designing experiments and scientific protocols, for example when testing dowsers, psychics, and others (see, for example, “Testing Natasha” by Ray Hyman in the May/June 2005 SI and Jim Underdown’s work with the Los Angeles-based Independent Investigations Group).
Depending on what’s being measured, replication can be difficult under the best of circumstances. If you’re trying to replicate a population study it’s important to look at the statistical methodology to be sure a representative sample was used; slight variations in the underlying populations can introduce confounders and thus create spurious (Type I and Type II) errors, suggesting that an experiment has not been replicated when in fact it has, or vice-versa.
Whether the topic is a famous Bigfoot film, 9/11 attacks, pyramids in Egypt, psychic powers, or anything else, the oft-heard complaint that something can’t be—or hasn’t been—duplicated or replicated is often a red herring. Despite its strong anti-elitist and populist appeal, the claim demonstrates a fundamental lack of knowledge about control groups and science in general.
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yoshiintheweb · 1 year
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Empires SMP settlements as Archeological sites according to me, your local archeology student.
Over all notes.
-According to Sausage (his first episode), Empires 2 is set over a 1000 years after Empires 1. So all of my headcanons will be based mostly on early medieval period knows also as The Viking Age in terms of preservation - real life equivalent of "over a 1000 years ago".
-Archeological findings are very depending on the place they are in, and the type of settlements.
-That being said, I assume that most of empires from season 1 would be considered a city state, similar to poleis of ancient Greece.
-On that note, even if it's not active part of Minecraft itself, i will make a series of headcanons including: Pottery bc pottery is one of the most common findings, graveyards if needed, the characteristics of the biomes that are not part of Minecraft and probably something more that i forgot
-I assume that the water level after the drain get to normal in the years that follows, bc if we assume that Empires has similar climate to our owns, it would go up over that 1000+ years anyways.
The Cod Empire
- it would be by now a bunch of stakes sticking from the bottom of the shore, bc it was mostly made out of wood and wood will not survive this long if left on free air for long.
-Everything made out of stone will hold, turn into ruins over time. Looking at the area that once was The Cod Empire you can see a rock structure, a ruin that once was used as a Church of some sorts maybe meeting hall? Maybe both, noe one knows for sure.
-It was on swamp tho, and if there was peat bog anywhere everything that goes in it, will survive that amount of time, longer even, wood, maybe fabrics, it's perfect condition to preserve dead bodies too, we are talking skin, hair and organs intact way. Tho it's not always the case, and bones are a different story bc peat is pretty acidity which is not good for them.
-There might be a bit of a chance that some buildings survived if it was swollen by the swamp (peat bog again, it's just that good shit). It will not look pretty but the shape will hold (probably).
-Archeological dig in Cod Empire would take years if not a decade+. It's not bc how big Cod Empire was, but how many thing was preserved by the peat bog. And the peat bog is still a peat bog so it's difficult to work with.
-I imagine Pottery from Cod Empires as handmade. Very simple, thick, wonky probably a bit asymmetrical. It might be just plain but it also might be decorated with cuts and print of various things (ropes and shit probably). There's also a lot of dishes made out of wood, in shapes and decoration that looks the same.
-Fun fact, if Minecraft had butter, it would survive too. Peak bog, everybody.
-Bc of it's location, Cod Empire might be the best preserved empire from them all. Gods bless the peak bog in it's wet, sticky and no oxygen policy glory.
It might get part two idk if i will jave the mental power to do so tho
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houppellande · 5 months
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Read till end for Byron's memoirs 👀​👀​👀​
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Wedding attire of Lady Annabella Byron (nee Milbanke) aka Lord Byron's wife. Yes. THAT Byron. From this simple but tasteful ensemble one can somewhat understand her character (and the fate of the marriage) a bit better.
J. C. Hobhouse, Byron's best man, describes her as such on that day:
[...] Miss Milbanke came in attended by her governess, the respectable Miss Clermont. She was dressed in a muslin gown trimmed with lace at the bottom, with a white muslin curricle jacket, very plain indeed, with nothing on her head. [...]
Miss Milbanke was as firm as a rock, and during the whole ceremony looked steadily at Byron – she repeated the words audibly and well. Byron hitched at first when he said “I, George Gordon”, and when he came to “with all my worldly goods I thee endow”, looked at me with a half-smile – they were married at eleven.
And this Lord Byron's wedding waistcoat, who is said to have belonged to King George the 2nd of England (it was re-taylored for regency fashion), and which Byron wore often.
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And now for something completely different! An excerpt from the lost Memoirs of Lord Byron. While the manuscript itself was destroyed, many people read (and copied!) some parts. The editor of The John Bull Magazine (1824, on which the following excerpt was published) has of course made some "mutilations" (aka censorship), but the text seems genuine, and Byron's cheeky prose style manages to shine through. Some (including the Magazine's Author) say that THIS EXACT CHAPTER was the main reason for the burning of the Memoirs.
TW: dubious consent . . .
It was now near two o’clock in the morning, and I was jaded to the soul by the delay. I had left the company, and retired to a private apartment. Will those, who think that a bridegroom on his bridal night should be so thoroughly saturated with love, as to render it impossible for him to yield to any other feeling, pardon me when I say, that I had almost fallen asleep on a sofa, when a giggling, tittering, half-blushing face popped itself into the door, and popped as fast back again, after having whispered as audibly as a suivante whispers upon the stage, that Anne was in bed? It was one of her bridemaids. Yet such is the case. I was actually dozing. Matrimony begins very soon to operate narcotically—had it been a mistress—had it been an assignation with any animal, covered with a petticoat—any thing but a wife—why, perhaps, the case would have been different.
I found my way, however, at once into the bed-room, and tore off my garments. Your pious zeal will, I am sure, be quite shocked, when I tell you I did not say my prayers that evening—morning I mean. It was, I own, wrong in me, who had been educated in the pious and praying kingdom of Scotland, and must confess myself—you need not smile—at least half a Presbyterian. Miss N—l—should I yet say Lady Byron?—had turned herself away to the most remote verge, and tightly enwrapped herself in the bed-clothes. I called her by her name—her Christian name—her pet name—every name of endearment—I spoke in the softest under tones—in the most melodious upper tones of which my voice is master. She made no answer, but lay still, and I stole my arm under her neck, which exerted all the rigidity of all its muscles to prevent the (till then undreamt of) invasion. I turned up her head—but still not a word. With gentle force I removed the close-pressed folds of the sheet from her fine form—you must let me say that of her, unfashionable as it is, and unused as I have been to paying her compliments—she resisting all the while. After all, there is nothing like a coup de main in love or war. I conquered by means of one, with the other arm, for I had got it round her waist, and using all my strength, (and what is that of a woman, particularly a woman acting the modeste, to that of a vigorous fellow, who had cleft the Hellespont,) drew her to my arms, which now clasped her to my bosom with all the warmth of glowing, boiling passion, and all the pride of victory. I pressed my lips warmly to hers. There was no return of the pressure. I pressed them again and again—slightly at last was I answered, but still that slightly was sufficient. Ce n’est que la premiere pas qui coute. She had not, however, opened her lips. I put my hand upon her heart, and it palpitated with a strong and audible beating under my touch. Heaven help it! it little knew how much more reason it would, ere long, have for more serious and more lasting throbbings.As yet she had not uttered a word, and I was becoming tired of her obstinancy. I made, therefore, a last appeal. ‘Are you afraid of me, dearest?’—I uttered, in a half-fond, half-querulous, tone. It broke the ice. She answered in a low, timid, and subdued voice—‘I am not,’—and turned to me, for the first time, with that coy and gentle pressure which is, perhaps, the dearest and most delightful of all sensations ever to be enjoyed by man. I knew by it that I had conquered. 
(Please keep in mind that, while I consider myself a Byron enthusiast, I almost never agree with his choiches/courses of action. If you want my personal opinion, i'll be happy to exchange insights!)
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Entry number 10 for @ailesswhumptober
Day 10: branding
Hughie knew what he was doing was dangerous, downright stupid even but he couldn't really get himself to care when he felt Homelander's teeth graze his neck before the supe promptly bit down hard enough to draw a bit of blood.
Hughie moaned at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip on Homelander's suit while he pushed himself against him. He could feel Homelanders cock pressing against his own, both rock-hard and completely understimulated.
Homelander growled before he pulled Hughie's head back by his hair, his grip so tight Hughie feared he might pull out his hair. Hughie let out a pained gasp that turned into a surprised one halfway through when Homelander ripped his pants off without removing his mouth from Hughie's neck.
Hughie shuddered when the cold air hit his bare legs but he didn't get much time to complain before his boxers and his shirt got removed as well. Homelander moved away from him then and Hughie gazed at the supe in front of him. Homelander seemed to trace over Hughie's naked body for way too long until he finally locked eyes with Hughie.
"You're so fucking pretty, for a guy anyway." Homelander said then, his words mumbled and spoken more to himself than Hughie but Hughie heard him anyway. He always heard Homelander's comments, a weird mix of uneasiness and pleasure rushing over him each time.
Confusion was always there as well but Hughie had gotten so used to it over the weeks that he didn't acknowledge it anymore.
Seconds later Hughie heard more than saw Homelander freeing his own dick, Hughies eyes still locked tightly onto Homelanders who was staring right back at him with an intensity that made Hughie shudder every time.
Immediately after Hughie could feel Homelander press his cock into Hughie, the expected burn still causing Hughie to let out a hiss even if he knew it would hurt, it always did at first.
Homelander didn't give him the chance to adjust, he never did, and started pounding into Hughie the second he had bottomed out. Hughie threw his arms over Homelander's shoulder for more support, hoping the new grasp would make his back hitting the wall behind him less painful. It didn't.
No matter how little Homelander cared for Hughies pleasure Hughie still liked getting fucked by the supe. He really did. It's not like Hughie didn't get any pleasure from it anyway, Homelander always came first yes but that didn't mean he didn't make sure Hughie did after.
When Homelander first made a pass at him Hughie was disgusted not just with Homelander for asking but also at himself for thinking about it. Sometime after Hughie had given in to the curiosity, Homelander had worn him down plain and simple.
Hughie couldn't really say he regretted it, not when each thrust of Homelander caused a wave of pleasure to overtake him until Hughie couldn't concentrate on more than Homelanders cock and his piercing blue eyes; Hughie had realized fairly quickly that Homelander had a thing for eye contact.
Hughie saw Homelander lick his lips before he surged forward, capturing Hughie's lips in a searing kiss. The feeling of pleasure almost completely overwrote the surprise Hughie felt at the action; Homelander had never kissed him before.
Before he could think about it more Homelander pushed his tongue into Hughie's mouth while he thrust into him with more force, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the walls.
Hughie barely registered the pain in his back or the fact that the two of them had started levitating a bit, too caught up in the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling right now.
Homelander broke the kiss after a bit, leaving Hughie breathless and panting. Hughie felt his orgasm approach and looked at Homelander once again but the supe didn't seem to mind, not like he usually would.
A massive wave of confusion rushed to the forefront of his mind, a bad feeling growing within him the same way his orgasm started to build with each thrust of Homelander's hips. He wanted to ask what was going on, what had changed but before he could even try to get a word out Homlander grabbed Hughies dick.
Hughie let out a surprised moan at the feeling before he felt his orgasm crash into him, the confusion overridden by pleasure. He barely even heard Homelander utter the words,
"You're mine, Hughie, can't let you forget that."
Before he saw the red glow of Homelanders eyes. Panic started to well up within him as he opened his mouth once more but the words he wanted to say got interrupted by a scream tearing out of his throat when he felt the unmeasurably hot burn of Homelander's lasers on his chest.
The pain was everywhere and Hughie could feel tears in his eyes when Homelander just continued, uncaring for Hughie's pain.
Hughie continued to scream in agony until Homelander finally stopped but even then the pain was still there radiating from his chest and through his whole body.
Hughie startled when he felt a gloved hand touching his face, wiping away the tears that hadn't stopped since Homelander first started burning Hughie's skin.
"You're alright, just needed to make sure you won't forget." Homelander said then and to Hughie's horror and confusion the supe sounded almost caring, almost nice.
Barely a second after Homelander finished speaking he continued thrusting into Hughie, slower this time almost as if he was apologizing for the pain he had caused and Hughie couldn't do anything to stop him.
He had tried to speak, tried to tell him to stop but the only thing that made its way out of his throat was a meek croak. Homelander had shushed him then, told him to just stay quiet and enjoy what they were doing but Hughie couldn't.
His whole body was burning and his vision started to blur the longer Homelander kept moving but the supe didn't notice. Or maybe he did, Hughie wasn't sure.
Hughie couldn't tell how long Homelander kept going until he passed out, he just knew that they had changed locations sometime through the night; leaving the dingy motel Hughie had stayed at to go somewhere else but Hughie didn't know where.
When he woke up presumably the next day his whole body burned and his head felt like it had split in two. With a shaky breath, Hughie sat up only to realize that he was lying on his dad's couch.
He couldn't even begin to comprehend what this had to mean, what this might mean for him and his dad in the future before he suddenly remembered exactly what had happened last night.
Dread rushed over him as he shakily stood up and stumbled into the bathroom before he abruptly stopped in front of the mirror.
He looked awful. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, his face was ghastly pale and there was a wet spot right where the burning pain was the most intense.
With shaky hands Hughie gripped the shirt Homelander had dressed him in before he pulled it over his head, letting out a pained whine when the shirt rubbed against the injury in his chest.
Hughie froze when he stared at his chest in the mirror when he saw what Homelander had done to him. Trembling even more so than before he lifted a hand and touched the injury on his chest, his eyes tracing it in the mirror at least ten times before he finally let out a loud sob.
There in the middle of his chest was a large H, marking him as Homelander's property. Hughie couldn't contain his sobs even though he tried, afraid his dad might be close by, or worse Homelander might be close by and hear him.
Before he could have a full-on breakdown on the bathroom floor however he got interrupted by his phone ringing in the living room. Hughie was almost too scared to pick it up but decided that he had to at least check who it was.
On wobbly legs he walked over to the small table standing in front of the couch, his body relaxing and tensing in quick succession when he saw it was Butcher who was calling him. Butcher who had told Hughie that supes were evil, Butcher who would tell Hughie what he already knew; what happened was his fault and he deserved it.
He took a shuddering breath, trying to control his breathing before he answered the phone; he would just need to pretend everything was fine until he wasn't pretending anymore.
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safetycar-restart · 11 months
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what could be the top 5 masturbating methods of sub!charles? i got a feeling he likes to take his time and /loves/ consensual voyeurism (aka his girl watching from behind an half-open door, something like that) - george's long legs anon <3
Oh my god incredible question!! Amazing!! 10/10. I'm gonna write a little bit about each of my thoughts and then I can always expand on one of them if asked :))
5. Hand... in the shower
So here's the thing, Charles isn't the biggest fan of the whole, pour lotion on his cock and jerk himself off plain and simple. Cause it's so... meh. He's too needy for that.
But then when you add a shower into the mix? The steam, the warm water, cold of the tiles when he inevitably leans against them... now that's fun. He especially loves it for the feeling he gets afterwards, curling up in bed all nice and clean and completely spent.
4. Edging
Charles actually edged himself without knowing long before he got into kink. He would be alone all day and spend the whole day just slowly jerking his cock? Jerk off a little until he's close to cumming then leave it alone for an hour or so and do it again.
He'll do this for the entire day until he showers at night, where he'll finally let himself cum in the shower and then pretty much just stumble to bed and immediately fall asleep.
3. Pillow
Charles LOVES fucking pillows. They're so nice and soft and warm and feel so good. He adores riding pillows, feeling the friction against his balls and the bottom half of his dick, maybe folding it over and fucking into the middle.
It's just so good, and it's his go to method when he's alone (also he would absolutely ride your pillow like that).
2. With a dildo
It's no secret that Charles loves to be full and LOVES being fucked, in his opinion you should always be available to fuck him nice and hard, but obviously that's not really an option.
I actually think he prefers small dildos when he's alone? Because he enjoys sitting on them more than he enjoys actually fucking himself with them. He tends to just sit and rock on them, gently holding his cock while he slowly rocks against the dildo. When alone, he lasts about ten minutes until he jerks himself off to cum, with you? In your arms? He can last hours like that.
Instructions/with you:
Nothing, and I mean nothing, is as good as when you give him instructions. Sometimes you'll be right next to him or sitting opposite and watching, and of course he does everything you say. He loves being watched, loves hearing your voice as he gets off.
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@booklovingsnickerdoodleodle - This continuation is for you :P
I'll probably write more, but it's still brewing. If you guys can think of a title that would be helpful lol
Part 1, Part 3
Civilian woke with a start, shooting up to sitting as she frantically looked around. The last thing she remembered was Supervillain picking her up. She sighed - no one was in the room with her. The walls were plain with simple furnishings - a small dark dresser and a nightstand next to the single bed she was laying on. This is by far one of the softest beds she’s ever been on with soft black and green sheets. 
“You really love your color scheme,” Civilian mumbled as she pushed the comforter to the side and swung her legs off the bed towards the window. Civilian definitely tried to stand up too quickly and had to sit back down for a moment until the room stopped spinning. She stood again, much more slowly this time, and headed to the window where light was pushing through. She almost didn’t realize that her shoes were off until the soft plush carpet beneath was almost tickling the bottoms of her feet. 
Pulling back the curtain, Civilian was faced with a view of the ocean. For all the time that she lived near the ocean, Civilian rarely found her way to the water. It was breathtaking watching the waves crash against the shoreline. She looked down as best as she could but could only see sharp, angry rocks jutting from the water below. This would not be the way to go. 
Civilian sighed, letting the fabric fall from her fingers. She looked around the room again, hoping for another way other than the door that was almost certainly locked, but came up with nothing. It was either: drop down to the crashing waves and sharp rocks, stay put until someone came for her (good or bad), or try the door and find a way out of here. She also didn’t see her shoes which could be a problem when trying to run. Maybe she could find some on her hunt for the front door. 
She pressed her ear to the door, trying to listen for anything on the other side. Hearing nothing for several moments, Civilian moved her hand to the door handle and as slow as she could, tried to turn the handle. She was immediately met with resistance at the lock. Moving the handle either way, trying to force it open proved useless.
Tears pricked her eyes with the realization that she wasn’t getting out of here. With no idea on how to pick a lock and certain death from the window, Civilian had no choice but to sit on the bed and hope that whatever Supervillain was planning to do with her wouldn’t be bad. 
It was maybe an hour before Civilian heard any sort of movement behind the door. She had been pacing for a while, went through all the drawers in the dresser and nightstand (only to find varied sizes of black v-neck t-shirts and sweatpants) before she planted herself in front of the window, curtains pulled back. 
Her head slightly turned at the sound of feet walking down the hall, she couldn’t tell the mood of whoever was walking, but it still made Civilian's heart beat faster with every step. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to meet whoever was coming for her, afraid of what they had planned for her. Her heart spiked and skipped when she heard the door unlock and push open, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. 
“You’re awake,” Supervillain sounded surprised. Civilian still couldn’t turn to face him, but would recognize his voice anywhere. “How are you feeling?”
Civilian hugged her arms closer together. She couldn’t fathom that he actually cared and was just hoping he would get to the point and let her go. All Civilian could bring herself to do was stare out at the ocean still crashing against the shoreline. A hand on her shoulder almost made her jump, a gasp escaped as her fingers dug into her arms. “You okay?” Supervillain asked as he turned Civilian to face him. 
“What do you want?” Civilian looked straight in Supervillain's eyes. His eyes were as bright and green as the forest after a rain. She could easily get lost in those eyes, but shook her head and nudged his hand off her shoulder, turning back towards the ocean.
Supervillain let out a long sigh, “I just want to know how you’re doing. You passed out on the streets. I wasn’t sure where to bring you, so I brought you here.”
Civilian looked at him from the corner of her eye. He at least sounded genuine, but this was Supervillain we were talking about. “I’m fine,” she whispered and turned back to the water.
The air was tense and awkward as Supervillain could tell she was definitely not fine and Civilian couldn’t think of any of the questions she had thought of since she woke up. 
“Are you hungry?” Civilian’s stomach decided to answer for her, releasing the loudest growl possible. Civilian’s face turned red as Supervillain chuckled at her discomfort. “I’ll take that as a yes. Won’t you join me for breakfast? We can talk.”
As much as Civilian didn’t want to - she was hungry - and she didn’t really see any other option. “Okay,” she said and turned around to see Supervillain smiling, his arm extended to her in a silent request to link arms together. She hugged her arms tight to her and moved to walk past him. She didn’t make it far before he linked their arms anyway and led her out of the room.
Continued here
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dirtbra1n · 1 year
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need psychic beams to be real because sometimes I’ll go on tangents about the hanzawa to tashiro scene in my head that is THAT scene and it’s like. I don’t remember if I’ve put enough information out there for anyone to know what I’m talking about. but anyway going to basically copy paste this other tangent Re: the themes that come full circle and also following through on the Getting good at loving someone. THAT scene. the first crime scene for tashiro to witness. eyes open and manic. that scene. masato says SO many things and they’re all SO revealing and they all clearly point in big bright red neon signs to masato’s ugly beating heart and there’s just no way that tashiro doesn’t understand (he sees things as they are) what he’s seeing and hearing and feeling but the ONE thing that masato DOESN’T say is “I like you.” he manages to skirt around that number one problem phrase by the skin of his teeth. so masato finishes his ace attorney breakdown and splats cartoonishly at rock bottom, and tashiro goes home with a lot to think about. like he’s gathered that hanzawa senpai likes him, eventually, when he toes his shoes off at the door and is like Wait. and he sits there right next to all the shoes as he debriefs. and he’s getting this big feeling of deja vu, because, like. isn’t this exactly like when he was chosen to be the next club president.
tashiro’s hard to nail down because he’s so simple, and goes with the flow so naturally, but there are things to take hold of. he goes with the flow, but doesn’t want to take on responsibility when he feels someone else would be better with it. he wants a relationship, but isn’t so desperate to force it.
(he and shirahama went to that group date; neither he nor shirahama got a date out of it. shirahama was upset, he wasn’t.)
tashiro goes with the flow, but he doesn’t compromise himself. he is himself, always. but he does want a relationship. it doesn’t consume him, and doesn’t really affect his day-to-day, but it’s true.
and hanzawa senpai said EVERYTHING but that one key phrase.
hanzawa senpai chooses him to be the next president like it’s natural. hanzawa senpai, evidently, likes him, and he seemed kind of angry about it, but tashiro doesn’t think it was any one thing he did that caused it.
anyway, tashiro doesn’t have terrible self esteem, and it wasn’t any sort of deeply seated festering or anything so dramatic, but for just a second, both times, the thought flickered across his brain behind his eyes like, But why me?
and the rest of the story, in tandem with hanzawa masato’s neurotic unraveling, serves to answer this question.
because, as it’s plain to see, masato didn’t choose to fall in love with tashiro when the backlighting seared his image into his mind, but he did choose to fall in love somewhere between here and there, and he even decided that he would be halfway good at it.
so eventually, when masato decides he has to confess plainly, decides he owes tashiro that much at least, eyes open and handsome face even more so, tashiro places his hand over his mouth and says, “I know.” because he does. he does know. how could he ever not know. tashiro sees things as they are, and has seen an awful lot, and all of those things point right at this foregone conclusion. he knows.
masato, possessed, takes hold of tashiro’s hand, wrenches it halfway strugglingly away from his own mouth, and presses it to his cheek. his cheek is on fire. masato is on fire. masato’s eyes are wide open and he’s looking up at tashiro and he’s damn near humiliated but he doesn’t falter and he doesn’t look away and his stomach churns with so much something and tashiro feels it, and brings his other hand to masato’s other cheek, and urgently, gently, pushes masato’s face so that it faces away from him. tashiro himself looks up at the ceiling, wholly out of his depth. masato feels almost sick with relief. “hanzawa senpai,” tashiro starts, almost conversationally.
“yeees?” masato replies, grasping desperately for his composure and some semblance of control over himself.
“let’s not do that.”
a vague instruction. he understands completely. “roger that, tashiro-kun.”
19 notes · View notes