#things disappear! save your own copies! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months

Text

Disappeared for almost a year, willing to answer questions about that thank you for all the concern :)) but really sorry for abandoning you all <3<3

♡masterlist♡

Stalker! Ghostface! eddie x bimbo! reader

-Steve is also mentioned <3<3

Eddie = stu

Steve = billy

!!!WARNINGS!!!

contains: dark! Eddie, noncon/ Dubcon, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy (obvi <3), knife play, blood, murder, mentions of necrophilia, crying, kidnapping, mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm

MINORS DNI

♡ you're one of the most popular girls at school or maybe in the entirety of Hawkins, you were pretty, always best dressed and most importantly eye candy for those around you. It didn't help that you were the sweetest girl to exist, despite the difference between you and the losers of the world you didnt treat them any different humans were humans what they looked like or how they acted wasnt apart of your conscience.

♡ eddie was set on you being his first statement victim, his first chance to show hawkins that people who peak in highscool were nothing more than burnouts, his first time showing the world that popular people meant nothing in the big picture, the big ocean of the world were you're nothing more than a drop of water. You would make headlines, your name and reputation would let everyone know just what they would be dealing with. who they were messing with.

♡ he stalked you for hours, days, weeks, months, memorizing your habits, your friends, your daily routines, your class schedules, what you do when you get home, who you hang out with, your dates, your family, how you respond to calls, who you talk to, your house layouts, entrance and exit points. Every. Single. Detail. He had taken up a habit of stealing some of your belongings scrunchie, hair tie, pieces of paper you've doodled on, notes, strands of your hair, eddie wanted everything. when the small opportunity became available he would occasionally break into your home, convincing himself that this was to memorize the layout of your house but not stopping himself from taking what he pleases panties, bras, lip balm, shirts, skirts, anything old and useless or in a large quantity would go missing. You never seemed to notice things go missing anyway

♡ nothing was off limits for eddie, NOTHING. He watched you walk, talk, eat, shower, get dressed, EVERYTHING. maybe it was the pre murder adrenaline that made him overthink, the fear of getting caught, the risk he was taking, the orgasmic haze that flooded over him everytime he thought about your corpse laying infront of him, botched up, dismantled, butchered into nothing more than your own worth. perhaps this rush made him plan out every possible outcome. He couldnt waste a lifetime in prison over some dumb bimbo who didnt know what pythagoras was. He had no reason to feel guilt it wasnt as if he hadnt gotten rid of some nobodies before but this was you, this was different this, was more meaningful. a few dead people who no one knew the name of wasnt something people cared about because they werent popular. They were freaks and no one cares for freaks except the circus, a place where they can point and laugh.

♡As much as eddie feared the consequences of his actions he needed to do this, his entire life hes been treated as if he were a freak. This is what he was made to do picking off all of the useless nobodies who think they matter in a sea of carbon copies. No one should miss a model or an athlete when there were people out there becoming scientist, people out there saving lives while others make a living by simply existing.

♡ When steve had fallen from grace, dethroned by billy Hargrove, it was like something inside him snapped almost like something dark had taken control of him. he became this standoffish creature yet he still had charm and almost like ink to water the darkness naturally spread to eddie, somehow, someway the two became as thick as thieves overnight

♡ Eddie had always been dark, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, dark music, dark life but Steve's influence made that darkness deepen, stories upon stories could come out about how disturbing eddie was yet they soon got swept under the rug when he was out with steve. creepy, charming, funny, manipulative, strange were all words you could describe eddie 'the freak' munson. Pherhaps he was already stained, perhaps steve reopening the wound letting the blood spill out was what caused this disaster, he needed to reignite the spark that made him, HIM and that spark seemed to be enough to cause an explosion.

♡ steve was the one to bring up the idea of murder, Nancy wheeler his ex girlfriend would be their (his) final girl every other victim a pawn and statement in his plan, his message to Hawkins, the world. although eddie had dabbled in the idea of killing someone almost obsessing, idolizing, romatizing dreaming of it he had never had the balls to pull it off, he knew there would accusations immediately pointed at him, soon losing the game he so desperately deserved to win at.

♡ eddie latched on to Steves reputation like a leech to flesh, he could get away with anything and no one would bat an eye. An alibi coming from steve 'the hair' harrington meant much more than cheerleaders who were known to torment eddie. The cops brushed off the suspicion with sympathy, poor eddie being targeted once again. Although that wasnt just the reason eddie became so attached to steve, him and Steve now shared the same ideology of the uselessness of popularity, billy hargrove was the best thing to come out of this school. Eddie now had a ride or die.

♡ when the topic of you being the first statement victim came up steve wasnt too pleased at the idea, you hadnt been mean to either of them and he was hoping the first assertion would be someone like billy, jason, chrissy or even Johnathan. He battled with eddie for days, weeks even, soon agreeing on the terms that it would be after he had used you, he wasn't about to slaughter a girl like you without trying you out first.

♡ a reluctant agree from eddie sealed the deal, steve sleeps with you, eddie ends you.

♡ they're outside your house steve in a tree eddie in a bush, their bodies unseen in the darkness as they watch their prey move about. Living room, hallway, kitchen, hallway, stairs, hallway, your room. Although they couldnt see into your room, this time you had remembered your curtains and as much as steve felt disappointment about not being able to witness your last moments he knew it was better this way. You wont see them and the nighbours wouldnt either

♡ as soon as your situated in your room he wait about 30 minutes before calling, going over the plan with eddie and hoping you're too warm to get out of bed and grab a knife. signalling to eddie that it was time to go He strategically moves around the perimeter of your house, making his way to the kitchen window that you never locked despite the fact there were murders, you never seemed to lock any of your windows almost as if you were inviting him in. the kitchen gave him the advantage to be unseen by cars possibly driving by and an easy way to grab an extra knife if needed.

♡ he crawled through the unlocked window, the black clothing blending into the night the only part of him visible is the white ghost mask covering his face. He could hear you talking to steve upstairs, answering his questions, asking questions and seemingly trying to get off the phone. He was excited almost, the thrill rushing over him as he heard your voice.

"Oh I dont really watch horror movies"

"....?"

"Yeah I get creeped out so much i usually watch them with someone, I dont like being alone watching monsters"

"....?"

"Yeah i just hate the suspense-"

So does he

"-it kills me-"

You have no idea

"- i just hate the music and the way you know you're obviously going to be scared but you just cant tell when"

"......?"

"Noo I'm not into cult things either, ever since the fire at melody lane I cant look at them the same"

".......?"

"Listen I'm just saying its really weird there was a fire and then the band blew up"

"......"

"I mean youd get suspicious too right? they're total cultists"

".... .....?

"T-they didnt sacrifice me I was just saying- listen is there a reason you called so late"

"......."

"If you're Jason or something I already said no leave me alone! I'm busy"

"..... ............. .......?"

"What do you mean where you are? I dont want to meet up for a quick fuck and I definitely dont want to know the name of someone who calls at god knows what hour"

"........"

".....what?"

"....."

"....The bathroom?"

"...."

".....The kitchen?"

"......"

"How close are you?"

"....."

"I'm not playing in to your stupid prank! I have things to do!!" You slam down the phone

♡ It was his go time, he waited and waited and waited hearing the phone ring and you quickly hanging up before the ringing stopped all together and he could hear the sound of your sheets moving. He waited some more, he wanted you to forget about the call, this time there would be no suspense youd think you're safe and sound until you're suddenly impaled by the knife in his grip.

♡ minutes ticked by he was sure steve thought he had pussied out. He reached his hand to the door knob and froze as he heard cries- moans. He couldn't believe this. You slut, you filthy, dirty, stupid slut you had just been threatened and told that there was someone in your house and you're touching yourself? Maybe eddie had been waiting so long that you had called Steve's the callers bluff.

♡ a shaking hand, one of delight not fear, twisted the door knob being silent however he doubted you could hear anything over you own moans to caught up in your world to acknowledge the murderer standing in your door way. The sight before eddie had been breathtaking and in any other circumstance he would have watched you until you came.

Hands down the front of your panties, head thrown back, eyes closed with nothing but a t shirt on, you clearly werent wearing a bra as he could perfectly see the outline of your nipples. He supposes adrenaline has different affects on everyone, yours just happens to be becoming horny. What a wonderful discovery

♡ he stalked towards you despite his heavy boots he made no sound, whines and gasps erupted from your throat as he neared closer truly getting the full show to it all. He leered above you like a hawk taking in the view before him until he strikes. He grabbed your mouth quickly shutting you up, muffling the scream that made it's way out of your throat, your hands immediately grabbing his own giving him a view of your sticky fingers all while shuffling up the bed to try and save your own dignity trying to block you body away from his sight.

♡ he climbed on top of you, pressing you into the bed and pinning your legs in place stopping the kicks from reaching him. He hung over you, his breathe heavy as he watched the horror in your eyes brighten as they caught glimpse of the weapon in his hand. You pleas and begs muffled into his glove as he stared at you giving you no indication of mercy

♡ He suddenly flips you over, your head forced into your pillows and stuffies silencing your protests with your ass raised, he pulled at you hips ragdoll-ing you into the position he wanted you in. He moved his hands down hour body towards your out of place panties reaching for the edge of them before you started yelling

"Get the fuck off of me-"

He roughly shoved your head back into the pillow once again silencing you

"Stay the down and shut the fuck up, I'll kill you now. I'll make you unrecognisable that the police will think you broke in do you want that?"

A sobbed out no and shake of the head came out, he once again shoved your head into your pillows as a warning

"Great now as you reminisce on your life, rethinking everything you've done and havent experienced you're gonna let me play with you until I'm bored got it?"

You once again nodded weeping into your pillow clutching the bears next to you, knowing the inevitable you accepted your fate. Atleast you'll be able to pray your family and friends knew you loved them

♡ eddie pulled your panties down slapping your leg indicating you to lift you knees up, he pocketed them keeping a souvenir for later. His hands found your thighs crawling their way up to your most intimate area he spread your holes with his thumbs, playing with the flesh revealing the sight of the juices leaking out of you no doubt from your little escapade. Eddie pondered while mindlessly playing with your anatomy, should he just kill you? Back out of this and get the job done? He shoudlnt be doing this, he was supposed to hunt food not play it. I mean it wasnt as if steve would mind right? He got his time to play and He wont cum in you probably, no dna behind the crime and he should atleast indulge. he is the one doing the dirty work. rationally he might as well have some fun before mutilating you right? Hes still going to kill you, has to. Maybe even kill you mid thrust and fuck your bleeding out corpse if hes up for it, going round after round until your body is cold.

♡ eddie, snapping out of his pondering thoughts, stopped playing with his now decided fleshlight shuffling his way up to you so his hips meet your ass, he hesitated slightly but barely before unbuckling his belt. Pulling down the tattered and worn out jeans (along with his boxers) to reveal his hard on. You sobbed harder as you felt him rub his cock on your cunt soaking in your juices, you were quickly shut up by a slap on your ass getting the memo you tried to bargain with him

"Please- please dont i- I can give you money or anything you want just please-"

He pressed his tip inside you, throwing his head back as you squealed and cried. A deep groan fell out of his mouth as your warmth wrapped around him. He brought his hands to the back of your neck gripping the hair harshly before leaning down

"I dont want money or clothes or food or a magic show I want your life and youre gonna give it to me you're gonna let me abuse this cunt and there's nothing you can do about it understood?"

"Mhm"

"Great now the only noise I want from your mouth are moans and cries because I dont want you to ruin this for me okay? I've waited so long to steal you away from the world this is only some self indulgence on my part you should be grateful"

♡ he began to slide in deep "Wait!"- you reached your arm back to push his hips away before his cock could enter "you need a condom I dont want to get pregn-" Before you could finish eddie pinned your arms against your back (forcing it to arch more than it already had) shoving his cock inside you to shut you up, you were being too loud as you actively ignored his order. You're such an idiot you wont be alive to carry a child, if he did cum inside, your body wouldnt be able to catch his seed youd be dead by then, hes about to murder you why would he leave behind obvious evidence?

♡ You squealed as his cock breached your hole barely giving you time to process the sheer size of it or the piercings that littered the underside. It wasnt long before he started thrusting in and out of you, he couldn't care less about your pleasure this isnt about you. You didnt deserve to adapt to the sudden abuse of your womb, you didnt deserve anything.

♡ although eddie was empty for your pleasure he did enjoy the moans and gasps coming out if you. If you had been a hook up at devils kettle after his band he would have took his time on you savouring the feeling of your walls as you took him, he would have tasted you until you couldnt breathe, came inside you until you couldnt walk, so many things he would have done differently. Nonetheless he doesnt regret what hes doing and what hes eventually going to do it's just a shame he couldnt relish in the tightness of your cunt regularly. Like poison you could only do have it once

"You know maybe I wont kill you think you can impress me enough for me to spare you? Huh? Or are you to dumb like the whore you are to even understand what I'm saying?"

"Mmm"

"Aww that's what I thought it's like you didnt want to live"

♡ his pounding picked up his grasp on your hip tightening almost squeezing immediate bruises into your skin. One of his gloved hands reached your headboard using it as leverage to fuck aswell as pulling it towards him to stop the repeated banging from it smashing into the wall. Your moans were a mixed with sobs and mumbles, you didnt even know what you were asking for, did you want him to stop? Or keep going? You're brain hazy and blinded by the violent treatment to your pretty puffy cunt

♡ Sweat from his brow dripped down into the mask soaking the fabric that covered the eyes and mouth. the mask in question did no job of muffling or hiding the noises that tumbled out of him, a mix of grunts, whines, groans and growls admitted from the man. He was unleashing all the pent up anger and insecurity into his thrusts. Stuttered breaths came from him although it sounded like snarls. His eyes couldnt focus on where to look, your face covered in your own sweat, tears and spit or the way your hole swallowed him in, practically sucking him back inside as soon as he left. It was a beautiful sight, your cunt now leaking down both his and your own thighs. red and raw from the ruining of his manhood and swollen balls repeatedly beating against your lips and clit.

♡ god he could keep you forever, locked in his rooms with nothing on, your only purpose is to be filled. Be his little housewife. Youd make such an amazing mommy you're so sweet to everyone youd be so good to him and his babies- what the fuck was he thinking?! Hes supposed to kill you not breed you like a cow and marry you what the fuck is wrong with him?? He picks up his forgetting knife tracing over your spine with it you squealed as he did, pressing yourself into your mattress to get away from the blade. He dragged the knife down to your thigh before making light marks upon them, maybe he could make it look like you were struggling mentally and was just some crazy bitch who cut herself to cope, if he stabs you correctly he could make it look like suicide.

♡ the pretty pearls of blood blossomed around the wounds he made, they were shallow but god did he love the sight of your blood as it trailed down your thigh similar to your own juices. Switching hands without pausing his momentum, swapping out the one holding your headboard. he began to do the same to your other thigh, relishing in the whimpers of either pain or confused pleasure although he guessed you enjoyed it from the way you clenched around him and started to try and move back against his thrusts. Knowing soon that if he didnt restrict with his mutilation he wouldnt be able to stop himself and it would no longer look self inflicted. He threw the knife next to him, leaning down to the crook of your neck breathing in your scent, his hand tip toed it's way to your throat pressing against your wind pipe as he watched your face, the face that was stuck in a pleading expression he knew you wanted mercy whether that be to cum or to live he knew you couldnt have one so he gave up on silencing the banging and reached his unoccupied hide down to yout clit pressing against the poor nub to gage your reaction immediately you moaned trying to turn you head into you pillow the hand on your throat disobeying you to even move. He rubbed the poor pearl in circles letting you cry out and your tears soak into his gloves

♡ his fun however was cut short by a person in the doorway, steve, dressed in his costume, head tilted with his arms crossed a disappointed stance as he watched the show infront of him 'really?' Was what steve was trying to say. In response eddie leaned up relocating his hand from your neck into the back of your head shoving you into the pillows before slapping your ass with the same hand staring directly at steve 'what are you gonna do about it'. You cried out at the sudden abuse which was met with another slap, steve having seen enough walked out probably raiding your fridge or something.

♡ you felt amazing hes kind of envious of steve for getting to you first, a slight wave of frustration washed over him as he couldnt have you again. His animalistic behaviour along with his feral treatment of you brought you close to the edge. Eddie's hands that now found their place back on your hips received urgent taps as you tried to communicate your end. He coudlnt care less though but he might aswell get the most he can out of his toy. Snaking on of his hands down to your clit, listening to your heightened wails as you drew closer the other hand leaving your hip and pressed against your stomach feeling the way he destroyed your insides. His body fell foward encapsulating your withering body that was too gone to hold itself up right.

"I- I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna cum- please let me cum please please please please-"

"Shshshhhh you can cum- you can cum im gonna make you cum and you're gonna thank me for doing such a nice thing before you die arent you?"

"yes yes yes yes- yes- oh please fuck- th-thank you thank you oh my god- please- thank you-"

♡ you tightened around him your back arching as your orgasm fell upon you, your fluids squirted along his cock as he continued his rampage, he was so close your pussy practically crushing him as he fucked your dead weight body

"Please- I'm s- sensitive I cant- s'too much- cant- cant take it"

"Y-you can take it. You can take all of it, you're taking me right now- you can take some more-"

♡ he felt his end near as he spoke, the urge to praise you and degrade you flooded through his brain desperately wanting to tell you how good you feel although nothing good ever last forever and he knew he couldnt mark you with his seed

"Didnt think youd be so tight- th-thought after all- all the dickheads you fuck wou- would loosen you out fucking slut, little bitch only good- for getting off"

"Nuh uh mmhmm'not- not a slut- dont sleep around- fuck please slow down please- they lie I dont-"

"They lie about it huh?- shit- they lie about fucking you? Just want to brag huh?"

"Mhmm"

♡ if heaven is real he it would definitely be inside you he didnt deserve heaven, not with the things hes done but he can spoil himself this one time right? Eddie pressed his head into the crook of your neck, the irritating fabric of his hoodie scratching your back, howls and groans spilled out of him he wanted to time it perfectly to pull out as soon as he cums, so much easier to wipe cum from skin then scrape it out of you. Though he doubts the cops would care if they found anything inside you a known minx filled with cum was not a surprise. He felt his hips buck into you stuttering as clawed his way to be closer to you, eddie isnt a strong man he couldnt pull out even if he wanted to, steve can go fuck himself they could find someone else, anyone.

♡ he spilled himself inside you wrapping his arms around your mid section to hold you against him, biting at any exposed flesh he could find, licking and sucking marks into your skin as he fell into greatness, He could feel his cum spill around his cock filling up your insides. Pants and heavy breaths came from the man above you maybe even whines but you couldnt be too sure, whispers of words you couldnt comprehend overflow from behind the mask as he slowly came down sloppy thrusts slowing down as he can to a halt. Over stimulated and hazy minded you barely acknowledge his peak, fuzzy and dumb you couldnt care less about what he does to you body. Your bedding was now soaked as you soon came to realize, he let go, forcing your body to fall flat on the bed. Carefully he pulled out of you watching his seed pool out of you, adding to the mess of your pretty little bed sheets, your poor pussy almost bruised and swollen from his attack, his cum highlighting the beauty of it

♡ he sat back and watched suddenly he didnt feel the urge to harm you, too caught up in post nut clarity. Instead of reaching for his knife he reached for your holes once again, spreading and playing with them, pushing his hard work back into it's new designated place listening to you let out sleepy whimpers and whines. He felt your combined juices melt into the fabric of his glove yet he couldnt care, hed do this every night for the rest if his life if it meant he could experience the warmth of your body.

♡ Eddie shifted off the bed catching a glimpse at your fucked out face barely able to keep your eyes open as your lashes fluttered, he knew you were fighting sleep a part of you aware of the danger you were currently in, however you werent aware of the change of plans. Eddie slipping his knife in the pocket of his jeans gave you one last look, strolling up to you and lifting his mask above his mouth, a small, short kiss pressed against your temple

"I'll be back baby"

♡ he made his way out of your room down the hallway, down the stairs and into he kitchen were he found steve sipping one of your dads beers.

"Did you do it?"

"...nope"

"Didnt think so.. wasnt any screams... jesus christ Eddie we've been planning this for months you were the one that suggested her"

"I mean... can you blame me?"

"Yes"

"That's fair... but you cant tell me her pussy didnt sway your mind about the whole murder thing"

"...."

"Steve lets be honest"

"I guess but that's not the point shes probably going to snitch on us you know that right"

"Please she's practically passed out on her bed, fucked dumb shes lucky she can even acknowledge where she is. She isnt gonna remember this"

"And what if she does"

"I can always go for round two"

"You're disgusting we are so dead"

"Well just have to wait and see wont we?"

♡ safe to say when monday came around there was no talk of your encounter with the infamous ghostface infact there was no indication that you had even had an interaction with a murderer, life went on as if nothing happened.

"Told you"

"You could've gotten us caught"

"But I didnt"

"So who next? I was thinking-"

♡ eddie zoned out as steve rambled one, his eyes travelling to your table as you chatted with friends, his marks were still there and he had no doubts your little girlfriends questioned you who did it. He liked the look of you wearing his claim. He'll visit you tonight, this time he'll fuck the way he truly wants.

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #ghostface Eddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #dark eddie munson #tw: noncon #ghostface steve harrington #eddie x reader #eddie x reader x steve #eddie munson smut

1K notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

➪the one where you try to move on and jack comes home.

Part 1

Warnings: angst, fluff, sad times all around

Word Count: 3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Jack sighed as he entered his house, his eyes glued to his phone as texts flooded the screen. The door shut loudly behind him, making him cringe in hopes he didn’t just accidentally wake his mom up. Deciding not to find out, he quickly walked through the house and towards the kitchen, where the door to the basement was.

He discarded his jacket on the armrest of the couch before falling against it, this thumb scrolling through text message after text message. Some old friends of his were trying to make plans for the weekend, but every idea given was something Jack refused to do.

Hey, buddy! Congrats on that new movie haha. I was thinking we could go out for breakfast sometime soon, just to catch up.

Hey, Jack, not sure if you remember me, but I just wanted to say I always knew you would make it big as an actor. Let’s meet up soon.

Hi Jack ;) Saw that movie you were in and just wanted to say you look good. Take me out to dinner sometime?

Man, he regretted not changing his number early on in his career.

He ignored each message as he opened his contacts and put in his password for his voicemail. His eyes closed when he lifted his hand and brought the phone to his ear, his heart skipping a beat when he heard your voice.

“Hey, it’s me. Um, you failed the test I gave you. I don’t know what happened to us or what happened to you, but I’m…I’m done,” the way your voice wavered had his heart beating loudly and his eyes stinging. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, I really wish I was. You meant everything to me and I wish you kept your promise. Good luck with everything. I wish you nothing but the best, and, yeah. I’m done. Goodbye.”

He squeezed his eyes tightly before opening them again, his vision slightly blurred as he kept the phone to his ear. “End of saved messages. To listen to this message again, press one. To delete this message, press two. To save this message, press nine,” his thumb moved and clicked on the same number he had pressed countless times now. “Message will be saved for two days.”

He seriously had no clue what he was going to do when the message deleted itself two days from now. It was, literally, the last thing he had of you as his mom had helped you clear out the clutter you had at his house. The hoodie you got from high school was no longer thrown over the chair in the corner, the pile of your favorite movies had disappeared from its place on the TV stand, the bag of chips he let you keep on the shelf was gone. You had successfully erased yourself from his life.

The only thing left was your voicemail. And the framed picture that was sitting beside the TV. It was the same picture you had beside your bed, and his heart ached as he wonders what you might have done with it. Did you keep it? Is it still on your nightstand? Did you destroy it? Pack it away in a box? Was he the only one with a copy of the picture now?

Each question made his heart burn as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table - his mind going back to when he did that the day he came home. At the time, your own phone was next to his, both powered off as you held each other.

Now, he was alone. His phone was the only one on the table, and he reached over to grab the pillow you had fallen asleep on too many times to count. He wrapped his arms around it as he fell against the cushions, his face buried in the pillowcase as sleep slowly took over his body.

Jack sighed heavily as he entered his house for the first time in three weeks. It was safe to say he was missing his own bed more than ever at this point and had long since grown sick of hotel rooms.

He couldn’t wait to fall face first into his sheets on his own bed, in his own room. The only thing that would make it better was if you were there with him.

The front door shut quietly behind him as he knew his mom was asleep. He pulled out his phone and clicked on your contact. He groaned when he realized what day it was and the plans with you that he had completely forgotten about.

He moved his thumbs to type out the most heartfelt apology ever written and offer to make it up to you tomorrow, but paused when he saw the notification at the bottom of the screen.

1 New Voicemail - Urgent.

Jack clicked on the message and put in his password before bringing his phone up to his ear. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting the voicemail to be about, but it definitely wasn’t you breaking up with him. He felt his heart skip a beat at how sad and defeated you sounded as he replayed the message two more times, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

He saved the message before clicking on your contact again, his heart further deflating at the texts you had sent him earlier in the day.

9:32 AM

My girl <3: Hey, you’re home now, right? Are you still wanting to go out today?

The vagueness of your text should’ve been enough to set off alarms in his head. The fact you asked if he was still wanting to see you made his heart ache with guilt and regret. He always wanted to see you and he thought you knew that. The feeling only got worse as he continued reading the messages he had somehow missed.

10:01 AM

My girl <3: Sorry, you’re probably still sleeping. It’s been a long 3 weeks without you, I don’t blame you for wanting to sleep in.

10:03 AM

My girl <3: Just get back to me when you can.

The lack of your usual sweet words and the fact you weren’t adding any heart emojis at the end of your texts showed him exactly what you said in the voicemail.

You were done.

There were no more texts after that one and Jack felt his heart break when he realized that you probably thought he was flat out ignoring you, when it was the opposite.

He couldn’t wait to come home and see you. The past three weeks were hard and packed full of promo, interviews and press. He was hardly in control of his phone the whole time and only had it at the end of the day. Something about not wanting him to be distracted? Whatever the reason was, it was definitely not worth you feeling like he was ignoring you.

Jack clicked on the call button and brought the phone back up to his ear. Disappointment and guilt took over his body when he was sent straight to voicemail.

You didn’t want to talk to him.

You spent weeks trying to fight for your relationship, you had nothing left to give.

He squeezed his eyes shut when he heard your voice ask him to leave a message. He could only hope that you would get back to him as soon as your past self promised you would. “Y/n,” he said desperately, his eyes opening quickly as he brought his free hand up to tug on his recently cut hair. “Fuck, baby, I am so sorry for not answering you, I- things have been so crazy lately and I know that’s not an excuse, but, please. Let me make it up to you, let me explain everything, please.”

He was rambling, trying to get everything out in a single message. There were no words to describe the fear that was currently looming in his body, his heart aching and terrified that you wouldn’t call him back - terrified you wouldn’t let him explain.

“I can fix this, I can fix everything, I promise, just please,” he realized that his promises probably meant nothing to you now, but he was desperate at this point. “Please, just don’t… Don’t leave me. I love you, I-”

The sound of a beep cut him off and his pleas were sent to your voicemail.

He stood in silence for a few seconds, his phone still pressed to his ear as if your voice would come through the device and give him the comfort he hadn’t given you when you needed it most.

Finally, he dropped his hand and loosely held his phone between his fingers. His legs moved before his mind had the chance to keep up with them as he scrapped the idea of heading upstairs to his room.

He walked through the kitchen in complete darkness and opened the door to the place he spent hours with you in, the door closing loudly behind him.

GUYS I think they broke up fr.

Um…did Y/n and Jack break up? I haven’t seen any new posts with her in months.

Y/n hasn’t been active at all on social media….I think her and Jack are done.

JACK AND Y/N BROKE UP PARTY.

Hopefully they’re both okay, they seemed really happy together.

The comments he received on a daily basis were a form of torture Jack had never felt before. It hurt to read them, especially the ones that were applauding him for breaking things off with you.

She was holding him back, sorry.

He’s thriving now that she’s gone.

Yay, she’s gone.

God, people really were brutal.

He couldn’t bring himself to read anymore and closed the app. He was met with your smiling face as his background and felt his heart skip a beat.

You are so beautiful.

Jack felt his throat begin to close as he recalled all the times he should’ve told you that more. His eyes burned and his face heated up, but he couldn’t cry. Not now, not in public.

He’d be back home in a few hours and only then, when he’s in the comfort of the basement and holding the pillow that no longer smelled like you, would he allow himself to wallow in self pity.

Damn, he felt pathetic.

He just missed you more than any word in the world could describe.

He was right in believing you wouldn’t get back to him after he poured his heart out to you through voicemail. It still didn’t lessen the heartbreak, though.

If this was how it felt to be completely shut out from the person you loved, Jack couldn’t hate himself more for allowing you to feel this way about him. There were only a few times where he wanted to redo something, and this was one of them. If he could, he would go back a month or so ago and redo the entire thing, but this time so differently.

He would never let you feel the hurt and sadness that he provided you with every time one of your texts went unanswered. He would call you everyday, distractions be damned, and tell you that he missed you, that he loved you and that he was coming back to you.

Maybe he was imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he heard your laugh. It sounded distant, and maybe if he went a few more months without you he would’ve forgotten what it sounded like, but not now. Maybe not ever.

It was a sound he had been wanting to hear for weeks now. A sound he knew so well. One that belonged to you and only you.

He looked up and that was when he felt the first bit of happiness, the first bit of relief in what felt like forever.

You looked good, a lot prettier than he remembered and perhaps happier than he had ever seen you. It hurt to think that he was holding you back all this time. You were miserable for weeks because of him, and now you were happy without him.

That still didn’t stop him from crossing the busy street, breaking a couple of laws that he’d apologise for later, and standing a mere few feet from you. Your eyes opened and you took a step forward when your friend grabbed your arm as she had seen Jack before you did.

Giving her a confused look and raising a brow, you turn to where she was looking and almost instantly the smile you wore faded. Your arm slipped from hers as you held eye contact with your ex, your eyes ringing as heat flushed your face.

She mumbled something to you, along the lines of, “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?”

You’re broken out of your trance as you turn to face her, a tight lipped smile on your face. “No, it’s okay. You go on, I’ll catch up,”

She nodded, giving Jack a suspicious look before walking away.

You were left to stand alone, with the exception of the broken looking boy in front of you. Shifting awkwardly, you hesitantly meet his eye. “You’re home,” you state, chewing on your bottom lip as you play with your fingers.

“Yeah,” Jack says quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You never called me back.”

It was a bad thing to say as Jack had also failed to call you back on multiple occasions, but his heart had more control over his mouth than his head did.

You break eye contact and look down at the broken sidewalk below you. “I know,” the silence returned for a second or two as you tried to think of what to say. It had been weeks since you last saw him, since you last talked to him, yet you couldn’t think of a thing to say to keep the conversation going without turning it into an argument. Observing his appearance, you force out a smile as you say, “You cut your hair.”

“Y/n,” he pleaded and you once again looked away, feeling your face heat up for the second time as you blinked away the tears that were beginning to form. While you couldn’t look at him, Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Why won’t you look at me?”

He hated how he sounded so desperate, but he didn’t know how else to act.

You shake your head but look up at him anyway, shrugging as you ask, “What do you want me to say, Jack?” You ask and watch as his face falls and his own eyes become glossy. “You were gone and you…..you shut me out. I tried everything to get you to talk to me, to text me, to acknowledge that while you were out there living your new life, I was still here. You forgot about me.”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head and stepping closer to you. “No, I thought about you every day I was gone. I fuck-”

He cut himself off as he ran his tongue over his teeth, his disappointment in himself growing as the conversation went on. This was not how he wanted things to go at all.

“I fucked up, okay? I know that. There’s nothing I can say that would excuse what I did, but I’m sorry for everything. Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do,” he paused, glancing back up at you with the saddest look you had ever seen on him. “I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise.”

You give him a weak shrug, desperately trying to hold off on crying in public. “Sorry I wasn’t worth it,”

His hand grabbed your wrist without him even meaning to, stepping closer to you as if to hide your body behind his from the prying eyes of the world around you. “Don’t say that, baby, please,” he quietly begged, trying to ignore the way his heart leaped when you placed your hands on his forearm. “You’re everything to me. I’m the one who isn’t worth it.”

Your teary gaze met his and you had no control over the way your bottom lip quivered. “I can’t go through that again,”

Your words were hardly audible, but Jack heard you clear as day. His other hand came up to caress the side of your face as his guilty eyes stared into yours. “I’m so sorry,”

A few seconds pass with you staring up at him, and he knew you were trying to see if he was lying or being untruthful at all. It was the way you protected yourself before letting someone in. It reminded him of the early days of your relationship, back when you were cautious about allowing an actor to own your heart.

“Please,” he mumbled and you hesitantly placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to ignore how protected you felt as his figure towered over you. Without saying a thing, you tug on him and wrap your arms around his neck. Jack let out a quiet, dry sob as he tucked his face away in the space between your neck and shoulder. “Take me back.”

Your fingers played with the ends of his short hair, hiding your face away so your tears dampened his shirt. “Please,” you begged when he placed small kisses against the skin of your neck. “It can’t be like last time.”

Jack quickly pulled away from you and kissed you, his thumbs reaching up to wipe away your tears as he did so. “I promise,” he murmured when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Wherever I go, I’m taking you with me.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing him until you pulled away a bit to see the truthfulness in his eyes. “What?”

“That or I’ll just stay home,” the words flowed easily out of his mouth.

“You’re not serious,” you trail off, holding eye contact with him. “You’re serious?”

“I love you,”

You don’t say anything as his words, the ones you craved to hear for weeks, sunk into you. Reaching up, you press a chaste kiss to his mouth before holding him close to you once again, melting into the way his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion imagines #ethan scream 6 #scream 6 ethan #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines #angst

1K notes · View notes

xstevex-world · 1 year

Text

Steve Harrington’s favourite musician has been the same since he was 17.

He distinctly remembers hearing Chrissy Cunningham play in his car radio during his senior year, subsequently listening to nothing but her breakout EP for a week straight - and that was just the beginning.

He followed all of work for over the past 7 years: bought physical and digital copies of all her albums, watched every music video multiple times, read every interview, saved up enough while working weekend shifts at scoops to get tickets to her sold out shows in Indiana - he had so much merch that Jonathan Byers once joked that Steve could probably make a shrine to his idol.

He had even kept up during her hitatus, almost two full years of radio silence from the star, like she had disappeared off the face of the earth. It wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, but it didn’t help that it overlapped with him dropping out of business school to pursue a career in cosmetology and that final falling out he had with his father over his choice in education.

The day she came back felt like Christmas.

Her comeback announcement dropped on June 13th - and it wasn’t just a new post on social media or a candid shot online someone managed to snap.

It was a whole EP drop, 4 entire songs (and a music video) that he knew he was going to play on repeat after 716 days of radio silence.

That opened the floodgates for everything to start again: she went back on social media, thanked her fans for their wholehearted response to her new releases. She started doing interviews again: discussing her mental health and the impact of her mothers control in her life; her reunion with her best friend (and apparent ex) from high school; her label dropping her after it was found that her “momager” had embezzled a huge amount of money from said company, releasing her from her contract early and allowing her to find new partners, new producers, new projects.

She talks about how she’s never been happier, and Steve can’t help but beam at it. He can hear it in her music, how it’s going more against the grain of what’s popular, opting instead for etherial synths mixed with heavy guitars. She sings about heartbreak and moving on and being better than then the people who brought her down for long, now that she’s starting fresh.

Steve loves it, thinks some of the changes have something to with Eddie Munson’s name appearing in the credits of all her new material.

Truthfully, he got curious after someone on Twitter posted a screengrab of cameos made by Munson and his own bandmates in all of her new music videos. He thankful someone else made the connection, and although he’s not the biggest fan of Corroded Coffin’s music (apart from the collaboration EP they did with Chrissy: “CCxCC presents Satanic Slumber Party”, that was incredible), he would lying if he didn’t say he was totally enamoured by Eddie goddamn Munson.

Let alone the fact that he’s totally Steve’s type (big hair, bigger eyes, a complete dork with a heart of gold but who also looks like he would bite someone in both a feral dog and a “please take me to your bedroom right now” kind of way), the guy is a genius when it comes to music, spending interviews talking about the process of artistry and the importance of storytelling - even when they’re discussing songs about him, written by Chrissy about their break up, he’s still so passionate and witty, the two of them spending interviews bouncing off each other in a way that would rival his relationship Robin.

He’s fine, really, he knows logically this is just a celebrity crush that will pass if he stops thinking about it for long enough, but he’s certain that this could develop into one of those all encompassing obsessions if he doesn’t curb it now- and that’s exact what he does. He tries to put that energy into school, excelling more than he ever did in an academic setting. He meets up more often with Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and Barb, inviting them over more often for dinner or drinks, sometimes even just because he wants to make a breakfast feast and need someone else to eat it.

It’s at times like this that he misses Robin, who only has about 6 weeks left of her internship in Paris - he hasn’t seen her in person since he went to visit her a few months ago during spring break. He wishes she was her to openly judge him over this, before rambling on about her own current hyperfixation or moaning about her lack of romantic adventures since she and Vickie broke up.

They still talk on the phone every afternoon (nighttime for her), ranting to each other about their perspective day and sharing any worthwhile gossip.

Tonight’s no different, he’s telling her about the current drama happening in his classes when Robin says:

“I met someone today.”

He’s ecstatic - in his opinion robin deserves the world and the fact she’s met someone on her own in a city where she has been finding it hard interacting with people outside of her placement is a miracle in itself.

She tells him more: how she met this girl that morning at café, acting as a knight in shining armour (Robin’s words, not Steve’s) when the girl got flustered trying to order her coffee in broken French; how she spent the day showing this girl around to her favourite shops and parks and museums; how they spent hours talking about everything and nothing; how Robin hasn’t felt this way about someone since Vickie.

“So then we had dinner at that Italian place, the one I took you to, and, Steve, oh my goddess, she has the cutest little laugh-“

“Did you get her name?”

“Oh, sorry” he can hear her move the phone from one ear to the other. “Yeah it’s Chrissy.”

Steve stops his pacing. That would be one hell of a coincidence, if it was Chrissy Cunningham. She is playing in Paris the following night, the penultimate stop of her current tour. (The very show that he had been tempted to go to, since he could stay with Robin. It absolutely wasn’t because Corroded Coffin was joining her for the European leg of the tour - acting as her band, as well as performing songs from their collaboration as the encore - something that did not happen at any of the American shows). It couldn’t be the same Chrissy that Robin had fallen head over heels for in the space of a few hours, right?

“Did you get any of her socials?” He asks, cautiously.

“Nope,” she answers, popping the p for emphasis. “I didn’t think to ask, because I’m an idiot and all that-“

“Robs,” he interrupts, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not an idiot.”

Her hears her laugh on the other end of the line, the same kind of self-deprecating giggle she uses when she’s nervous. He wishes he was there with her so she could see him roll his eyes at her, their main way of communicating their love.

“What did she look like?”

“Oh!” She exclaims as he hears her tumbling over something (knowing Robin, probably herself). “We took a picture together, hold on, I’ll send it over.”

His phone vibrates against his ear, so he brings it in front of him, putting Robin on speaker so he can see the photo.

And.

Holy fuck.

“Robin,” he says slowly, because he actually can’t believe it himself. “Do you know who that is?”

((Part 2))

#stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #Steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #Buckingham #bandcheer #robin x chrissy #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #Luci’s ST thoughts

2K notes · View notes

feyhunter78 · 1 year

Text

The Scar on Your Palm (and the One on Mine)

Description: Your father has written of your betrothal to another, and Aemond reminds you of vows made years ago. Ñuha dōna means “My sweet”

Part two here!!

You’ve been in love with Aemond since you met him when you both were children. Even when Aegon took him down to the Silk Streets on his ten and third nameday you had no fear, only a heavy grief in your heart as you held him in your arms afterwards.

He cried into the crook of your neck, clinging to you as if you’d disappear if he relaxed his grip. You shushed him and reassured him you would never leave him, no matter what happened.

When you turned ten and five, he kissed you. A fleeting thing that left you breathless and fumbling to pull him closer, desperate for that taste of peppermint on his tongue. He whispered his devotion against your lips. Telling you how much he treasured and adored you, how you were meant to be together, but that you would need to wait to be betrothed, that his family’s troubles needed to settle first.

At ten and seven, both of you drunk on Dornish wine fell into his bed together. Limbs intertwining, the taste of peppermint on your tongue as Aemond thrust into you, singing your praises all while claiming your maidenhood as his. He’d brought you moon tea in the morning with promises that one day you wouldn’t have to drink it. That one day you would raise your children together.

Now two years later you stood across from him, hands clasped together, eyes rimmed with tears as he refused to approach you. “Aemond, please, you know I have no say in this.”

He even refused to look at you, the letter from your father in his hand. “You swore to me, you swore you would never leave.”

“It is not as if I wish to leave. I had no knowledge of this betrothal, until I received the letter.” You quickly wiped away your tears. “My father worries I have remained unmarried for too long; he does not wish for rumors to spread.”

“Rumors?” He asked, finally looking at you.

You nodded. “I am unmarried, and many have witnessed the closeness between us, they will talk, and I will be ruined.”

He slammed the letter on the table and stalked over to you, pulling you flush against him. “You are mine; I have the blood stained sheets to prove it. Perhaps I will send them to your father along with an offer for your hand.”

“You saved them?” You weren’t sure how you felt about that.

He bent down, brushing his nose against your cheek, his voice low. “I feared one day I might need proof that we are bound together in more than just words.”

“If you are so desperate for my hand, why did you not ask for it sooner? I am already betrothed, to be married in a week. My father is here, we will depart in two days’ time.” Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you turned your face from Aemond.

He kissed your temple, and his hand rubbed your back soothingly. “We are already married, Ñuha dōna, do you not remember?” He gently turned your face. “We were bound in fire and blood years ago.”

You remembered the campfire, the dagger, the metallic taste of blood as it passed your lips. You were so in love with him, binding yourself to him at ten and six was the easiest decision you’d ever made. “Aegon said that wasn’t binding.”

He took your right hand in his and pressed lightly on the scar that ran across your palm. It matched his own. His precision with a dagger ensured they were nearly perfect copies, a contract made gladly in blood. “Aegon is a fool who fell asleep in all our lessons.”

“Then why do you entertain the ladies your mother brings, why do you let men dance with me and pursue me?”

He pressed your palm to his lips reverently. “We must do our duties, both you and me, until the dust has settled.”

You ripped your hand from his grip and took a step back, needing space to breathe. “That is not how marriage works. Why does our marriage only seem to matter when I am to be taken away from you? You are acting more like a child throwing a fit when his favorite toy is taken than a husband.”

Aemond’s hand twitched, but he let the distance remain. “Y/N you don’t understand, Aegon is not yet fit to be king—”

“If I am to do my duty, then I will marry Lord Borris. Let him rut into me like an animal, bear his heirs and once the dust has settled, you can fly Vhagar to my new home and demand my return. That sounds like a wonderful plan, Aemond.” You cut him off, grabbing a satchel and shoving your possessions in it, back turned to him. “You are a coward, hiding behind a shield of supposed duty.”

Aemond threw you over his shoulder, and you yelped, dropping the gown you were attempting to shove in your bag.

He adjusted your skirts to protect your virtue, then pushed open his door. “You are my wife, the only man who will rut into you will be me, the only heirs you will bear will be mine.”

You pounded your fists against his back, cursing him as he carried you to the throne room. “Aemond, put me down. This is mortifying and undignified.”

“What is mortifying is the idea that you would ever doubt my affections.” He set you down right outside the throne room doors before cupping your face.

You leaned into his touch despite your earlier anger. “I have waited years for you to finally announce that you love me, to tell the court that I am yours, and you are mine.”

He kissed you, quickly and gently. “And you have been so patient, my sweet wife. I am sorry, I was a coward, afraid that my family would disapprove, that they would attempt to come between us.”

You shivered as his lips brushed against yours with each whispered word.

“No one could ever come between us.” You promised, gripping his tunic, and kissing him, seeking his familiar taste.

A cough from one of the kingsguards broke you both apart, and Aemond straightened his tunic. “Come, my sweet lady wife, we must inform our fathers of the news.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96

1K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

The Framework is the most exciting laptop I've ever broken

From the moment I started using computers, I wanted to help other people use them. I was everyone’s tech support for years, which prepared me for the decade or so when I was a CIO-for-hire. In the early days of the internet, I spent endless hours helping my BBS friends find their way onto the net.

Helping other people use technology requires humility: you have to want to help them realize their goals, which may be totally unlike your own. You have to listen carefully and take care not to make assumptions about how they “should” use tech. You may be a tech expert, but they are experts on themselves.

This is a balancing act, because it’s possible to be too deferential to someone else’s needs. As much as other people know about how they want technology to work, if you’re their guide, you have to help them understand how technology will fail.

For example, using the same memorable, short password for all your services works well, but it fails horribly. When one of those passwords leak, identity thieves can take over all of your friend’s accounts. They may think, “Oh, no one would bother with my account, I’ve got nothing of value,” so you have to help them understand how opportunistic attacks work.

Yes, they might never be individually targeted, but they might be targeted collectively, say, to have their social media accounts hijacked to spread malware to their contacts.

Paying attention to how things work without thinking about how they fail is a recipe for disaster. It’s the reasoning that has people plow their savings into speculative assets that are going up and up, without any theory of when that bubble might pop and leave them ruined.

It’s hard to learn about failure without experiencing it, so those of us who have lived through failures have a duty to help the people we care about understand those calamities without living through them themselves.

That’s why, for two decades, I’ve always bought my hardware with an eye to how it fails every bit as much as how it works. Back when I was a Mac user — and supporting hundreds of other Mac users — I bought two Powerbooks at a time.

I knew from hard experience that Applecare service depots were completely unpredictable and that once you mailed off your computer for service, it might disappear into the organization’s bowels for weeks or even (in one memorable case), months.

I knew that I would eventually break my laptop, and so I kept a second one in sync with it through regular system-to-system transfers. When my primary system died, I’d wipe it (if I could!) and return it to Apple and switch to the backup and hope the main system came back to me before I broke the backup system.

This wasn’t just expensive — it was very technologically challenging. The proliferation of DRM and other “anti-piracy” measures on the Mac increasingly caused key processes to fail if you simply copied a dead system’s drive into a good one.

Then, in 2006, I switched operating systems to Ubuntu, a user-centric, easy-to-use flavor of GNU/Linux. Ubuntu was originally developed with the idea that its users would include Sub-Saharan African classrooms, where network access was spotty and where technical experts might be far from users.

To fulfill this design requirement, the Ubuntu team focused themselves on working well, but also failing gracefully, with the idea that users might have to troubleshoot their own technological problems.

One advantage of Ubuntu: it would run on lots of different hardware, including IBM’s Thinkpads. The Thinkpads were legendarily rugged, but even more importantly, Thinkpad owners could opt into a far more reliable service regime that Applecare.

For about $150/year, IBM offered a next-day, on-site, worldwide hardware replacement warranty. That meant that if your laptop broke, IBM would dispatch a technician with parts to wherever you were, anywhere in the world, and fix your computer, within a day or so.

This was a remnant of the IBM Global Services business, created to supply tech support to people who bought million-dollar mainframes, and laptop users could ride on its coattails. It worked beautifully — I’ll never forget the day an IBM technician showed up at my Mumbai hotel while I was there researching a novel and fixed my laptop on the hotel-room desk.

This service was made possible in part by the Thinkpad’s hardware design. Unlike the Powerbook, Thinkpads were easy to take apart. Early on in my Thinkpad years, I realized I could save a lot of money by buying my own hard-drives and RAM separately and installing them myself, which took one screwdriver and about five minutes.

The keyboards were also beautifully simple to replace, which was great because I’m a thumpy typist and I would inevitably wear out at least one keyboard. The first Thinkpad keyboard swap I did took less than a minute, and I performed it one-handed, while holding my infant daughter in my other hand, and didn’t even need to read the documentation!

But then IBM sold the business to Lenovo and it started to go downhill. Keyboard replacements got harder, the hardware itself became far less reliable, and they started to move proprietary blobs onto their motherboards that made installing Ubuntu into a major technical challenge.

Then, in 2021, I heard about a new kind of computer: the Framework, which was designed to be maintained by its users, even if they weren’t very technical.

https://frame.work/

The Framework was small and light — about the same size as a Macbook — and very powerful, but you could field-strip it in 15 minutes with a single screwdriver, which shipped with the laptop.

I pre-ordered a Framework as soon as I heard about it, and got mine as part of the first batch of systems. I ordered mine as a kit — disassembled, requiring that I install the drive, RAM and wifi card, as well as the amazing, snap-fit modular expansion ports. It was a breeze to set up, even if I did struggle a little with the wifi card antenna connectors (they subsequently posted a video that made this step a lot easier):

https://twitter.com/frameworkputer/status/1433320060429373440

The Framework works beautifully, but it fails even better. Not long after I got my Framework, I had a hip replacement; as if in sympathy, my Framework’s hinges also needed replacing (a hazard of buying the first batch of a new system is that you get to help the manufacturer spot problems in their parts).

My Framework “failed” — it needed a new hinge — but it failed so well. Framework shipped me a new part, and I swapped my computer’s hinges, one day after my hip replacement. I couldn’t sit up more than 40 degrees, I was high af on painkillers, and I managed the swap in under 15 minutes. That’s graceful failure.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Hinge+Replacement+Guide/104

After a few weeks’ use, I was convinced. I published my review, calling the Framework “the most exciting laptop I’ve ever used.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/21/monica-byrne/#think-different

That was more than a year ago. In the intervening time, I’ve got to discover just how much punishment my Framework can take (I’ve been back out on the road with various book publicity events and speaking engagements) and also where its limits are. I’ve replaced the screen and the keyboard, and I’ve even upgraded the processor:

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Mainboard+Replacement+Guide/79

I’m loving this computer so. damn. much. But as of this morning, I love it even more. On Thursday, I was in Edinburgh for the UK launch of “Chokepoint Capitalism,” my latest book, which I co-authored with Rebecca Giblin.

As I was getting out of a cab for a launch-day podcast appearance, I dropped my Framework from a height of five feet, right onto the pavement. I had been working on the laptop right until the moment the cab arrived because touring is nuts. I’ve got about 150% more commitments than I normally do, and I basically start working every day at 5AM and keep going until I drop at midnight, every single day.

As rugged as my Framework is, that drop did for it. It got an ugly dent in the input cover assembly and — far, far worse — I cracked my screen. The whole left third of my screen was black, and the rest of it was crazed with artefacts and lines.

This is a catastrophe. I don’t have any time for downtime. Just today, I’ve got two columns due, a conference appearance and a radio interview, which all require my laptop. I got in touch with Framework and explained my dire straits and they helpfully expedited shipping of a new $179 screen.

Yesterday, my laptop screen stopped working altogether. I was in Oxford all day, and finished my last book event at about 9PM. I got back to my hotel in London at 11:30, and my display was waiting for me at the front desk. I staggered bleary-eyed to my room, sat down at the desk, and, in about fifteen minutes flat, I swapped out the old screen and put in the new one.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Display+Replacement+Guide/86

That is a fucking astoundingly graceful failure mode.

Entropy is an unavoidable fact of life. “Just don’t drop your laptop” is great advice, but it’s easier said than done, especially when you’re racing from one commitment to the next without a spare moment in between.

Framework has designed a small, powerful, lightweight machine — it works well. But they’ve also designs a computer that, when you drop it, you can fix yourself. That attention to graceful failure saved my ass.

If you hear me today on CBC Sunday Magazine, or tune into my Aaron Swartz Day talk, or read my columns at Medium and Locus, that’s all down to this graceful failure mode. Framework’s computers aren’t just the most exciting laptops I’ve ever used — they’re the most exciting laptops I’ve ever broken.

[Image ID: A disassembled Framework laptop; a man's hand reaches into the shot with a replacement screen.]

#pluralistic

1K notes · View notes

eyesxxyou · 7 months

Text

Backstage Show Pt.6

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5.5k

synopsis. it's been a long time since you and Hobie last saw each other. after he invites you to his next concert, despite better judgement, you go. you know yourself, you always fall into old habits

you and hobie get back together

🍒・．❕warnings. she's a long one, smut with LOTS of plot, fingering, hand riding, sloppy kissing, save a horse ride a cowboy, love making, a lot of references to other parts, angst, lots of angsy, a healthy(er) relationship, reader has more control than before

You and Hobie haven’t spoken in months. You imagined it was all too easy for him to pretend you never existed, that this was how all his relationships inevitably ended, unceremoniously without even a text to apologize for everything said in the worst of your moments. You were absolutely torn, terribly upset, and horrifically furious when he still used your picture on his album cover, the picture of you with his thumb in your mouth, only your lower face visible to his audience. It was like some sick wink at you. He knew you’d see the cover, knew that you’d know it was you. You two were probably the only two people in the world who knew.

Fuck him. He could fall off a building for all you cared. You didn’t need him. It seemed almost impossible to think that you were once obsessed with him, that you would have once kiss the ground he walked on and done the most heinous things for him.

Nearly half a year and you were beginning to forget what he looked like, what he smelled like, the smallest details about him. You were eternally grateful for it and unquestionably sad over it. Your sheets no longer smelt like him, the last remnant of him in your home. It was almost as if he never existed in the first place, how little he left around. He made it so easy for himself to disappear.

And he did disappear for a while. From your life and your mind.

Until he was back to touring in your location.

You weren’t going to the show. You never even listened to the new album affectionately named “Doll” after the title track on the 12 track list. You could only imagine what that was about, that and the rest of his tracks. You'd never know. You never would listen to it. You never bought a copy.

You got off of your shift with a sigh and made your way down the the bar near your job to grab a drink. It was Friday, you were able to get the weekend off, and you needed to be drunk the entire time. Mary Jane fans were swarming the streets and you couldn't stand any of them. You wondered which of them was Hobie's new plaything. When would they realize he would never love them even a fraction of the way they worshiped him?

Poor thing. Whoever they were, they were on the fast track to getting their heard broken.

You pushed open the door to your usual bar and found it roudier than usual. You managed to wiggle your way to the counter before you saw him. He was sitting out with his chair leaned back, his feet kicked up on the table, and a nice pint of frothing beer in his hand. He was smiling at some fan who had approached, wanting autographs. He was very obviously flirting with them until his eye caught yours slightly behind them. His smile faltered a bit as you whipped around and hid your face behind your hands.

He was more gorgeous than you remembered, fucking breathtaking. You never realized how much you would miss the individual features of his face. His golden eyes, his nose, his lips, his hair. You hoped he hadn't seen you, that you could get your drink and mind your own. But of course he had and of course he felt the need to come up to you.

"Y/n? Y/n, is tha' you?" You could hear a distance away and swiftly you asked the bartender for a kamikaze. This would be a long night. There was no getting away from him now. He was already making his way to you, lightly pushing people to the side to get to you.

Hobie sidled up beside you on the stool to your left, his knees on either side of your body. "How ya doin', doll?" His voice was so smooth and gentle in your ear you could just melt into him, profess how much you missed him all this time, beg for the two of you to go back to the way you were. But you refused to cave, refused to be so weak.

You didn't answer him. The bartender came back with your drink and you thanked her with a smile and a nod. You were no not talking mood, especially not with him.

Hobie's been missing you a lot. Things didn't feel the same without you around. Things didn't feel right. He felt a bit uneasy going on stage, the energy before and after wasn't exactly the same. He drank a little more, slept a little less, haunted over the way things ended. He thought he'd never see you again. The world was too large for something like that.

But here you two were. And you weren't talking to him. Why would you? You had confessed your love to him and he had squeezed your heart til it exploded in the palm of his hands. There was absolutely no reason in the world why you would talk to him.

"Still mad at me, luv?"

Something about his tone of voice made you upset, like he was telling you to get over it, what's past is past and it shouldn't bother you anymore. You finally looked at him, your lip twitching with disdain. "Why are you here, Hobart?"

"Oh, the government name." He placed a hand on his chest to feign hurt but the way you were acting did hurt him. It was deserved, more than deserved, so he took it as it was. "I'm here on tour. It's the night before our concert. We're jus' celebrating." He nodded over to his mates, all of them distracted by fans of their own. They hardly even noticed Hobie left them.

"I ain't think I'd run into ya. I though' I'd have ta hunt'cha down, luv. I need to talk to ya." He timidly placed a hand on top of yours. You needed something far stronger than a kamikaze. You needed straight vodka shots.

You pulled your hand from his, subsequently pulling your heart away and locking it up behind your ribcage despite the way it pulled and leaped for him. It's hard not to be in love even after months of never seeing him. But you wouldn't open yourself to getting hurt again. You might be in love but you're not gonna be dumb about it. "There's nothing for us to talk about. You made everything very clear the last time we spoke." Why aren't you punching him in the face? Why aren't you leaving? Why aren't you cursing him out? All of them are valid reactions. "I'm not gonna be an easy fuck for you."

"Just give it a chance, luv. Give me a chance. I really just wanna talk, nothin' else. I think with the way we left tings off wasn't the greatest–"

"Ya think?" You downed the rest of your drink and flinched at the sharp sting at the back of your throat. You motioned for some shots to the bartender and mouthed vodka while Hobie continued.

"I just wanna make tings right, dove." There was something very soft and genuine in his voice. He just wanted to give the both of you closure. You were done with him and that was okay, just as long as you knew the truth. "How about you come to the concert tomorrow? We'll talk after. Free admission."

You stared at him, gaze softening just a bit. How tender and palpable you could turn for him, like putty in his hands. With just a soft tone and a pleading gaze and you folded. "Fine. I'll go to your concert. We'll talk but I don't want to do anything, Hobie. I don't wanna feel like you're plaything again."

Hobie raised his hands in surrender. "I won't even touch you, luv. I'll never make you do something you don't wanna." It's true. He never made you do anything you weren't down for. And you were down for anything involving him.

Hobie rolled his lips, buying the bottom one to hide a grin. He stood up and dropped 40 pounds to pay for your drinks and a couple more if you chose to have any. "Have a good nigh', luv. I'll see ya tomorrow."

You huffed in response. It took everything in you to not turn to watch him walk away. You didn't want to stay any longer. You couldn't stand the thought of being in a room with him, pretending his was there when you were acutely aware of his existence staring holes into your skull.

You used the money to pay for your drinks and left the rest as a tip to the bartender before takinging your leave. You had to be rested for tomorrow.

—

Hobie ended up getting you tickets for the pit closest to the stage. The asshole. You stood squeezed between two fans screaming Hobie's name, dressed in gaze-attracting outfits. They screamed their heads off the moment they saw him and the other Mary Janes come out on stage, hoping to get his valuable attention. Your lips were sealed but your heart swelled seeing him where he was his very best. He was so beautiful, the stage lights casting down upon him from behind. He looked like an angel but you knew better.

His eyes searched the crowd for you and once his gaze landed upon your figure getting pushed around by fans trying to push their way to the front, he smiled. "How's everyone doin' t'nigh'?" Hobie kept looking at you, like he meant to be asking you specifically. You turned your head away, playing with your nails to show you weren't interested.

"Aww, don' be shy, a lil' louda." And the crowd responded with all their lungs could handle but all he wanted was to hear from you. All he needed was you.

"I've got someone special ina crowd t'nigh'. I wanna make sure tonight's a good show for them. So please, luvs, be nice to each otha t'nigh'." He knew you didn't want to be here, it was basic etiquette. Who wanted to be shoved around all night?

They started playing some of their new songs you've never heard before and suddenly you remembered why you loved them so much. They were all so mesmerizing on stage, their lyrics made you want to move, to jump around to close your eyes and feel the chaotic rhythm.

But as you listened, you realized a little more that the lyrics were about you and Hobie. To anyone else, it was just about two people who were in love but never meant to be together. It was a progression of events across the album, each song about different aspects of your relationship. "Worship" was about how much one worshiped the other to the point that it killed them. "How We Cave" was the end, about how they fell apart, all of it cleverly hidden within the folds of the song so that no one batted an eyelash.

The entire album was a wink and nudge to you, between the two of you. "Only we have to know" it said and you despised how much it meant to you. You needed to get out of here. Suddenly the entire venue felt as though it was crushing you, crashing down on your head.

You writhed and wiggled your way between people to make your way to the nearest exit. When you got outside, you took a deep breath, your exhale a cloudy haze before your lips under the cold air. You shuddered, reached into your pocket, and lit up a joint. You needed it, deserved it.

How he changed you, molded you into a person unrecognizable to your younger self. You had never been a smoker, never been much of a drinker, not before you met Hobie and he changed who you were so intrinsically. You never knew if it was a good thing or a bad one.

You knew the concert was over when people began funneling out, talking amongst themselves about who this new, special guest was. You pushed yourself off to the side and took a long drag of your joint, leaving strawberry lipgloss that you could taste with every drag. You wandered around the side of the building until you found the back entrance where Hobie told you to wait if the two of you managed to lose each other.

He came out about 10 minutes later, looking left and right until his eyes landed upon you. "Sorry, some fans wit' backstage passes I was meetin'. The boys are entertainin'em now." He excused himself, hopping over the guardrailing to get to you. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Take a wild guess." You took another drag before Hobie took it from you and took one himself. He loved the taste of you on it, took another drag because of it. "My bad, luv." He came and leaned against the wall beside you, his leather jacket the only thing protecting him from the cold. You weren't much better off either, dresses in an outfit similar to when you first met, you shivered from time to time while smoking with him.

"I saw you leave." He hummed and passed the joint back to you.

"Doubt I missed anything crazy. You were almost done anyway."

"The fuckin' Queen's ghost came on stage 'n did a backflip." Hobie countered, looking down at you with eyes that told you he was serious. His expression fell way into one of humor when you giggled and tossed your head back against the brick wall. "You're so stupid."

"I so am."

You didn't like how serious the undertones of his voice sounded. You didn't look at him, just smoked your joint to a bud before dropping it and putting it out under your boot. "I wanna go home."

Hobie stood from his position and offered out a hand to you. "Then lemme walk you." You looked at him, then his hand, and with a scoff, walked right past him. But you didn't tell him no, so he went right with you. You never said no to him along the way to your flat only a couple blocks away.

It was like the two of you were scared to talk about what you really wanted to. The way you two left off. Anyone looking at you would have said you were friends, not ex-lovers. And you weren't even that technically. You two laughed together, walked together without a single touch shared but all the longing glances of two people wanting to get back together after so many months.

And when you reached your flat, you turned and looked at Hobie and his massive height head on. "You can't come inside."

"I can't or you don't want me to?" He countered again because he knew you too well. You shoved him softly and he didn't even move. "Both. I know myself." If he comes in, you'll have sex, you'll wake up, and he won't be there. You would have let him in just to get hurt again.

"I told you, I won' touch ya, luv. I haven' yet, have I?" He was right, the only time he tried, he gave you the option to take his hand and you had refused, renewing your agreement that he would not be the one to initiate anything between the two of you. "We still haven' spoken. I don't think ya wan' everyone on the street to know our business, yeah?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked around. Finally, you looked for your keys to the front door and when you found it, you unlocked it. Hobie knew to be quiet as to disturb your neighbors and he surprisingly was considering his size. You knew where the stairs freaked and he followed your moves. Most of your neighbors were older people and that they'd have no qualms reporting you to your landlord.

When you finally reached your flat, you unlocked the door and let him in.

Your flat looked mostly if not entirely the same. Hobie smiled. "Good memories in here." He looked back at you with sparkling eyes. You closed the door. "Yeah, yeah, Hobie. Come on, we came in here to talk." You didn't want any of his bullshit anymore. You needed closure or you'd go crazy. Barely getting through the day without crying and throwing things was no way to live your life. Drinking and smoking all the time wasn't much greater either. You both were a mess.

"Yeah, yeah, we did." His playful attitude faltered as he crossed his long arms loosely over his chest and looked at his boots. "Look, 'm sorry, y/n. 'm sorry for all of it. You never deserved the way I treated you, you never deserved what I said to you."

You sat, you listened, you let him talk, your lips pulling to the side as you attempted to hold back swelling tears.

"I know I was wrong. I know. And I regret it everyday for the way I hurt you. We just…one, we shouldn't've had a conversation like tha' at a time like tha'. But I'm–" he paused for a moment, looking for the words. "I wasn't lying when I said I'm not someone you want to love. I am someone that no one has ever loved, doll. They have always left me because of who I am."

"But I'm not everyone else, Hobes. You can't decide for me who I'm gonna love." You interjected, a bit tearful. The situation frustrated you to tears and you felt a bit ridiculous for crying but Hobie didn't care, he reached out and wiped the fresh tears from your face. "Ya right. I should've let you make that decision yaself and 'm sorry for tha', luv. I was jus' scared."

"Scared? Scared of what, Hobie?" You croaked out, looking up at him with those big, beautiful eyes of yours that he adored so much, that he thought of in the darkest part of the night to keep him going.

He closed his eyes because he couldn't bear to look into your gaze. "I was afraid you would leave me one day because what would I do withou'cha by my side, luv. I was scared because I loved ya too and I knew I didn't deserve ya and one day you'd figure tha' ou' too."

He was scared to look at you, scared that it may ruin the moment to know how you were feeling about all of this. If only he knew him hard you fell for him again. Maybe the two of you weren't right for each other. Maybe whatever high power never ordained for you to be together. But fuck that higher power.

Hobie felt the weight of your lips ease against his and immediately took you in to him. He's been waiting to kiss you since the moment he first saw you but he promise he wouldn't touch you, not unless you touched him first.

Your hands reached up and caressed his face with your soft palms. His hand timidly came to your hips, waiting for you to writhe from him hold but you don't, you lean into him, standing on your toes to reach his lips better. You still taste like fruits and he hopes that your nether lips taste the same.

"I want you." You murmured against his lips in a daze of lust. "I want you right here, please." You kissed him harder pushing him back onto your couch before clamoring onto his lap with your legs straddling him. Hobie pulled you close, so close until your body pressed against his chest, rolling like waves under the exploring nature of his hands.

Your hands pulled at each other's clothes, removing shirts, tugging at the buttons of pants, a bra was tossed over your shoulder by you don't know who's hand. You wanted him completely naked, completely vulnerable to you for the first time and he wanted you the same.

Removing each other's clothes, you got up and stumbled clumsily to your bedroom where, by the time you got there, the two of you stood naked, embracing each other while you kissed. You had Hobie on the bed in seconds, still on top of him while you kissed hickeys down his neck. His hand slid down the soft skin of your naval, sliding between your supple legs to touch the slick nether lips of your pussy. He slid his middle finger between your folds and groaned softly. "Are you this wet all the time?"

"Only for you." You rocked your hips softly against his hand, shuddering as he curled his finger and let it slide into the wetness of your entrance. It was so easy to add another finger into you, and with enough working from his middle and index, scissoring you open while rubbing that sensitive ridge you've got inside you, he managed to add a third.

"Ahh– shit…Hobie." You rode his fingers, your hands holding his head where his jaw and neck met. You kept your eyes on his, your foreheads pressed against one another. "Keep goin', luv. Take wha'cha need."

You liked the warmth of his skin against yours. Two humans in love sharing in the taking of each other's bodies. Your teeth met his skin, nipping, biting, the salty remnants of sweat from performing still on his skin. He smells like weed, looks like heaven, and tastes like love. His palm worked against your clit while his fingers stretched you open in preparation for his size, which you haven't taken in a long while. You could feel it resting against your stomach, aching, smearing precum across your naval. You wanted it inside you in any way you could have him. But it seemed that he was intent on making you cum hon his hand first.

"Mmmh~ Ion wanna cum yet." You told him still rutting your hips against his hand. "I wanna cum with you." You wanted out, biting your lower lip as you whimpered. "I want your cock. Please lemme have it, Hobes. Please." You offered him puppy dog eyes like he wasn't already willing to give you everything you wanted and the world on top of it.

"Cummin' twice never hurt nobody." Hobie used his free hand to lift your head and make you face him again. "Jus' look a' me wit' those pretty eyes, luv. Can you do tha' for me?" He let his hand drop to your hip and felt the way you moved under the weight of his palm, desperate for a climax long denied to you for months. You nodded with wet, pouty lips and those pretty eyes.

Yoru walls clamped down upon his fingers as your ground your hips down hard and whimpered with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Just keep–” You tilted your hips to rub your clit a little more against the heel of his palm. You bit your lip and held him tighter as you rocked to the sway of your climax washing over you gently. Your body paused and you pressed your lips to Hobie’s to stifle your moan so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors. “Fuck– Hobie!”

Your tongues pressed against each other, your kiss sloppy and passionate, full of lust melting back into love. It was dark in your room, hard to see anything all you two had were your unadjusted eyes and the intimacy of touch to guide your way. Hobie laid back on your bed with his head in your pillows. Your scent surrounded him and he was in heaven as you climbed further up on top of him and grasped the length of his cock tenderly.

He let you do what you needed to do, sighing with perfect content as you dragged the tip of his cock between your wet folds. “Go slow, dove. I wanna feel ya.” He told you, shivering as your positioned him against your soaked entrance and sank down until your warm walls enveloped his fat tip. From there, you braced your hands upon his chest and did as told, slowly sinking down upon him, his cock spreading you further than you remembered.

You watched the way Hobie writhed beneath you, his hands gripping up and down your hips and thighs. “Fuck, y/n. Oh my…” He missed this so much, he missed you, this pretty, tight, warm cunt he dreamed about at night. All the toys he’s gotten in an attempt to replicate you, all of it in vain. He almost whined for you, biting his lip to contain something of a whimper. He wished he could se the way your folds parted for him or the way your hole stretched and struggled to contain him.

You liked the sight of him struggling to control himself. There was an overwhelming sense of power you felt you had over him for the first time in you entire fucked up situationship. His grip left bruises in your skin, tighter and tighter as you lifted yourself to the very tip of his member before pushing yourself back down, sheathing his cock completely, He made space for himself inside you, you walls melding to his exact length and girth. You had almost forgotten how good he felt, how he kissed your cervix so tenderly and pressed against sensitive spots you could never reach on your own.

"God, doll. Ya know wha'cha doin' t'me?" His hands find purchase on your hips, weakly following your movements as he watches the outline of your silhouette in amazement. The bed creaks a little with your movements, your moans mingle with the wet sounds of his pushing his cock into you, it's heaven in a single bedroom and you never want to go back to Earth.

Hobie lifted his knees and propped himself up, his hands gripping your hips a little harder so he could have his moment of control. He thrusted up into you, conjuring a breathless gasp from you as you gripped his shoulders for support. Your back arched as he fucked you, abused your cunt a little harder than you were used to over these past couple of months. You but your lip to contain the onslaught of moans you had to offer him, only letting out soft cries and whimpers to satiate his hunger to hear you.

You let him fuck into you, nice and rough, a position only those gifted in his department could pull off. You leaned down, pressed your body to his, laid on top of him with your back arched. You moaned into his neck, nosing at the angle of his jaw. Your hips flicked to meet the thrust of his hips. "H-Hobieeee." You squealed for him and he adored it, the way you dragged out his name like you wanted to hold it in your mouth for longer.

You stretched like a cat on top of him, you hands grasping at the pillow on either side of his head, scratching at the head post. You kept your face against his throat to hide your moans so only he could hear but they were so loud you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck and bite down to muffle them.

It was like he was tearing you apart, his large hands spreading you wide, his full lips muttering obscenities along the lines of his good you felt around him. So soft, so silky, so wet, so good.

When you kissed, it was not a kiss. It was just the parts, a sloppy meeting of tongues, teeth, and lips, all tangled up and touching on another. It was broken down by lust fueled by love, by the warmth of heated skin, by the kindness one human offers to another. He paused his hips to slide his hands up to hold your head with his fingers tangled in your hair.

"I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyou." You groaned against his lips at first before babbling it out like you couldn't hold it in you much longer. You needed it out, in the air. You hips rutted, you pussy leaving his cock soaked as you dripped. Your clit rubbed against his hair-covered pelvis and you shivered with pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

Hobie chuckled a little and you fed on it like you've never known any other substance. "I love you too, dove. 'N I wanna see you fuck me. Give me a show. Jus' f'me this time." This whole time, you've been giving shows to other people, now he wants you just to himself.

You sat back up, your hands against his stomach, scratching lightly as you rocked your hips. Hobie watched the way your body moved, hypnotized by the way you rolled and danced. You bounced on his cock, each one met with a lazy thrust into you.

You closed your eyes and tossed your head back, your mouth slightly ajar. You let the pleasure take you, you felt every thrust of his cock inside you, every point of pleasure it touched, the way your greedy, swollen clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, his hands on your hips, sliding up and down your thighs to coax you to continue. You loved his light voice, "you go' i', baby. Keep goin', jus' like tha'. My lovely, looks so pretty." His voice strained with each word, the beginnings of an orgasm making themselves known in his throat.

You shuddered, pussy trembling with your own climax. "I wanna cum together, Hobie. Please." You pleaded with him, looking back down at his fucked out expression trying to hold on to some cohesiveness. His muscles tightened as you fucked him harder, bringing yourself all the way up to the tip of his cock before coming down with a loud clap.

"Wha'eva you wan', lovely. I'll do wha'eva you wan'." He'll be whatever you want to. He just needs you in every way he can have you, for as long as he can have you. "You keep goin' like this 'n 'm gonna cum inside this gorgeous cunt of ya's."

You moaned at the thought of his cum filling you up, taking up the space his cock once did. "Do it, do it, please." You were just on the edge of your orgasm and he could tell. The way your walls clamped around him told everything and each movement brought him closer as well.

It was a simultaneous reaction. It took you both at once. Your moans were louder than before, mingling together embracing each other as your pussy quivered and milked his cock just the way he needed to shoot ribbons of cum right against your cervix and coat your walls in white. There was just so much of it and you continued to ride him, earning a few whimpers from Hobie as you milked him nice and thoroughly. To the point that his cum leaked through the tight seal his cock made with your entrance and dribbled down the underside of his cock and down his balls.

You felt so warm, so full. You fell on top of him, let him wrap his arms around you as you took in his scent so intrinsically his. You missed him so much, missed the feel of his sweaty skin against yours, missed the sound of his labored breath in your ear, then his chuckle he inevitably did at some point. You shook with his chest, rocking your hips a little to feel the comfort of his softening cock inside you.

"What's so funny?" You asked, drawing imaginary shapes against his chest in the dark.

"Really slutted me out in the end there. 've neva whimpered before." He laughed again, tossing a arm over his face to hide his embarrassment. You were laughing with him, a smile half pressed into his chest. "We could do it again."

There was a long stretch of silence as your laugher faded together and you sat there with him still inside you and his cum leaking out in globs, creating a mess between the both of you. There was so much you two needed to say, so many conversations you needed to have, but you narrowed it down in 8 words.

"I missed ya, luv." Hobie began.

"I missed you too." He'd never know how much hearing those words from his pierced lips would make your heart soar. The fact that he said it first, even more so.

"Remember tha' shower you was talkin' 'bout?"

You thought back to that moment of embarrassment for you when you had invited him to shower with you and he had refused. "How could I forget?" Even thinking about it now made your cheeks ache as blood rushed to them.

Hobie shifted a little beneath you. "I wanna take it now." A smile began to creep up onto your face and now your cheeks burned for another reason.

"Let's go take it then."

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #backstage show #hobie brown x reader #rockstar!au #rockstar!hobie x groupie!reader #spiderpunk smut

359 notes · View notes

skiiyoomin · 4 months

Text

ik i have requests but my mind is screaming Sukuna rn 🧍‍♀️

warnings: fluff! gn reader! im obsessed with Sukuna lord save me, modern au, light swearing

RULES !!

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

REQUESTS: OPEN

NAVIGATION

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

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

Sukuna secretly loves cooking.

He´s not embarrased because of it by any means. Rather, he never gave his skills a second thought. It had always been a casual hobby of his, but that´s all it was, a casual hobby. This doesn´t mean he isn´t confident. He´s always been a confident man, and this includes his cooking skills. He knows he´s a damn good cook.

When he started dating you, this hidden skill was something that was never asked about and hence, he never found a reason to bring it up. He may be confident, often times more arrogant than not, but he doesn´t show off without reason to do so.

As time went by and your relationship grew stronger and more comfortable, you began to see a new side to Sukuna that wasn´t the mean confident man.

One night, when you came over for dinner, you miscalculated the time and got there earlier than the time you were supposed to meet. When the door opened, the last thing you expected to see was Sukuna with an apron hanging on his shoulders and a spatula in hand. It was a surprising yet very much welcomed sight, adding to the "domestic Sukuna" you were slowly finding out about.

As you stepped inside, your ears picked up on the sound of food sizzling on a pan and your nose inhaled the scent of spices that made your mouth water. You took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island, your eyes curiously on his back as he turned his attention back to the pan.

It was funny really, seeing big burly Sukuna cooking food with a delicate precision, his usual frown replaced with relaxed features. Leaning your chin on your palm, your lips curled into a lovesick smiled. This was definetly a sight you could get used to everyday.

"I didn't know you cooked"

Your amused statement finally breaks the comfortable silence. He glances at you over his shoulder, a small smirk gracing his lips.

"You never asked"

Ah. Typical Sukuna reply, though that didn't stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head with an amused smile.

Grabbing some of the food on the pan with a fork, he leans over the island with his usual smirk and says

"Open up"

Doing as he says, you take the food he gives you tentatively. Your mouth immediately explodes with flavour that has you humming in satisfaction. Sukunas smirk widens, relishing in the way your eyes close and a smile forms on your lips as you chew and swallow the food.

"Wow that is really good"

You praise. He chuckles.

"Duh, I made it"

Of course he'd say that. A sound between a scoff and a laugh forms in your throat, making him chuckle once more.

At last, the food is placed on two plates and Sukuna moves to sit down beside you. A mischievous grin appears on your lips as you grab your fork and bring food from your plate to his lips. He smiles smugly as he places an arm on the backrest of your stool while leaning close to you. His eyes remain trained on yours as the fork disappears in his mouth. The intensity of his gaze makes a flush raise up to your cheeks and butterflies fly around your stomach. Damn him for being so damn charming.

Hastily, you pull the fork away and turn your head to the side, attempting to hide the very obvious blush blossoming on your cheeks and the bashful smile curling on your lips. The man beside you chuckles. His thumb and index finger find their way to your chin, gently forcing you to face him. His eyes held a mix of amusement and tenderness, making your face heat up ten times more.

His large hand slithers from your chin to the back of your head, his fingers sliding between strands of your hair. When did he suddenly get so close? His lips were barely hovering above your own, his head slightly tilted to the side. His gaze, never wavering in its dizzying intensity flickered from your plush lips to your wide eyes. With one last smirk, he closes the gap, leaving you breathless, as always.

His lips move against yours in perfect synchrony, your hand slowly finding its way to the nape of his neck, where your nails gently scratch the short strands of his undercut. His teeth softly nibble on your plush bottom lip, making a sigh escape past your lips. He tilts his head once more and deepens the kiss, pushing his warm tongue past your lips and intertwining with yours.

The feeling of your lungs burning forces you to pull away with heavy breaths and a flushed face. That same old smirk makes its way to his lips. He gives you one last peck before he turns to his food as if you didn't just make out like it's your last day on earth.

This man really was full of surprises.

65 notes · View notes

gracesmusings4adults · 1 year

Text

I promise.

Xavier x Reader

Reader: Wednesday’s twin, the twins can share powers because they are connected, and Y/N can control electricity.

“I tried being your friend,” he scoffs. “Look where that got me.”

“This isn't about us, Xavier.”

He lunged forward, chains rattling, he points at me. “No, it’s about you!”

His eyes flicker over to Wednesday. “Every time you both get involved, people get hurt.” He makes eye contact with me. “You’re toxic. All you ever do is make things worse.”

Wednesday takes a step toward the cell, an effort to put some distance between us.

I put my head down and close my eyes. Wednesday watches as I wipe all of my emotions away. She steps away from the cage.

I open up the page revealing the picture of Wednesday and I on the battle field with the pilgrim.

“Tyler warned me that something bad was coming. And I think—“ “No!” Xavier raises his voice. “You’ve already shown me that. I don’t care.”

Y/N gulps. Wednesday feels a wave of grief wash over her. This is her fault. She was the one who pushed her sister to indulge in a friendship with Tyler. She is the one who tried to shove off her sisters need for love and affection onto someone else. She is the one who turned her against Xavier and sent her to the lions den.

“Do you want to stop this? Then leave. Both of you, go far away and never come back.” Wednesday can feel her sisters heart shattering. “Do you understand? That can’t happen if neither of you aren’t here. That’s how you save everyone, okay. So, go.”

“LEAVE!” His chains rattle and for the first time Wednesday sees her sister jump. Tears in her eyes, she closes the paper, and leaves.

Xavier watches her go and then turns to Wednesday. “You too, Add—“ Wednesday steps forward and grabs his shirt. “Never, talk to my sister like that again. You want someone to blame? Someone to hate? You hate me.” Wednesday shoved him back.

Xavier scoffs as she walks away. “She never doubted you. Even when she saw your paintings. She always believed that you weren’t the Hyde.” Wednesday doesn’t look back, but she waits a moment and when all she is met with is silence she leaves.

His body goes limp and he falls to his knees. “Up you go!” Galpin says, keys shaking in his hand. “Time for the transfer.”

Xavier’s eyes seek out any sign of the Addams but he is quickly shoved into the back of the sheriff's police car.

Closing his eyes he remembers all the times that Y/N had shown him kindness. She put on a hard exterior like her sister, but he knew better. He remembered their whispered stories from the first time they met. They were just kids, but even then Y/N knew that she was different, even from her own family of misfits. When they arrived at Nevermore, Xavier knew that she was just as in love with him as he is her. But the Addams twins had perfected their united front. In many ways, Y/N had trained herself to disappear. She now appeared to be a copy of Wednesday.

And she fooled him. She made him believe that she did not care for him. That he was simply a means to an end and then it turned out he was the end—for a while atleast.

“What are we doing?” Xavier asks when the car stops. Sheriff Galpin talks on the phone for a minute and then pulls out his personal phone and looks at his son’s location. “You tracking your little monster?” Xavier scoffs. Tyler was another mistake he made. Xavier should have seen him for what he truly was. He should have warned Y/N. Instead, he allowed her to push him away and befriend a monster.

“You shut it.” Galpin shuts off the car and gets out.

“Hey, wait. Wait! Hey! What about me? What…” Xavier slams his hands onto the wire mesh. “Oh, you asshole!” Xavier kicks the seat and screams in frustration. There is no way to get the chain off and even if he gets out of the car, he is at risk of tripping and hanging himself with the restraints that tie his hands and feet to his neck.

Closing his eyes, the scene from the jail cell play like a movie. He could see the hatred in her eyes that she thought she was hiding. At the time he was telling himself that it was directed at him. But he knew as soon as Wednesday stepped inbetween them that it was a self hatred that was clawing inside her.

Xavier screams once more.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N whispers. She pushes up on her elbow, being careful not to disturb the corpse too much. Xavier nods, but then remembers that his new friend can not see him because they are in a closed casket. “I’m not like the rest of my family.” She sighs. “Sure I am weird and love dancing with seriel killers, but I am diffrent.” Xavier leans over the dead body.

“One summer my parents hired this man-killer nanny and she sent us away to summer camp so she could marry and kill my uncle…” Xavier hangs onto every word. “I have never told a soul, but I loved it. Sure the company was horrendous, but I loved camp. I also love the color pink.” Y/N laughs. She goes through a lists more things that she likes.

“Dont get me wrong, I love my sister. I have killed for my sister—and we have this weird twin thing where we can see the same vision or memories as each other, but I am diffrent.” Xavier stills as her breath washes over him. “I am me.” “I see you.” Xavier says. “You promise?” “I promise,” Xavier grasps her hand and sparks appear. “Hey, Xavier, what if no one finds us?”

Thump, thump. “Yes!” Xavier yells as Thing slides down the back window. “Yes! Yes! Yes, Thing!”

After Thing releases him, Xavier thanks him and takes off running to the school. No one tries to stop him as he grabs the bow and arrows from the archery range and rushes to the courtyard. “Stay away from her!” He shouts. Arrow aimed at the pilgrims heart. He takes in the sight. The courtyard is burning and in the middle stand the Addam’s twins and the pilgrim. “No!” Y/N shouts as he releases the arrow. Wednesday looks at her sister and then jumps infront of Xavier. Both twins fall to the ground.

“We’re fine!” Wednesday shouts, her hands reaching for Y/N. A large black and purple brusie forms on Y/N’s chest where the arrow is impaled in her sister. “Oh my—“ Xavier looks at them both with wide eyes. “Go!” Y/N shouts. “Get them out of here.”

Xavier hesitates and locks eyes with Y/N. “I see you.”

“You promise?” She looks at him with wide eyes. “Yes, I promise. That is the only reason I am going right now.” Xavier squeezes her hand a bolt of electricity shoots up his arm. “Now!” Wednesday shouts. Xavier runs towards the other students. He turns around and watches Y/N pull the arrow out of Wednesday. Both of them stand. Wednesday grabs the sword and Y/N’s hands spark with electricity.

At the gate, Xavier stands with the school as they wait. “Where’s Y/N and Wednesday?” Enid asks, her body shaking. Xavier looks around at his friends and then Enid is pushing through the crowd. Before his thoughts can catch up his feet are running towards Y/N.

Enid falls into their arms. Without thought, Wednesdays pulls away from Enid, her hand entwined with her sisters seperates them as well. Xavier’s eyes rake over Y/N. Her black school uniform is ripped and underneath it is a pink shirt. After a second, both of the twins throw their arms around Enid and bury their heads in her neck.

Looking up, Y/N’s eyes connect with Xavier’s. She pulls away from her sister and Enid. Wednesday hesitantly lets go of her hand. “Xavier—” Y/N goes to explain. Xavier steps forward. “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes gloss over at his words. “I am sorry too. I should have told you that I see you too.”

She reaches out towards him. Her hands stop just before tey touch his face. He leans forward. The buzz of electricity dances along his skin. “I see you, Xavier Thorpe.”

Xavier pulls her into a hug.

Xavier leans on the railing and smiles at Y/N. His cheeks flush a pretty pink when she smiles back and tugs her sisters hand, leading them up the stairs.

“Addams,” Xavier shoved his hands in his coat pockets. Wednesday raises an eyebrow at him. “Hurt her and she will kill you herself.”

Xavier smirks. “Then I’ll raise you from the dead and kill you again,” Wednesday smiles. Xavier’s smirk wavers as he looks into her dead eyes. “Message recieved.”

Y/N steps toward Xavier and their hands intertwine. Wednesday mutters something about the car. “Hey, Wednesday.” Xavier turns his head to look at her. “Thank you.” “Now it’s your turn. But this time, don’t save me. Save my sister.” Wednesday disappears down the stairs.

“Come visit me?” Y/N whispers. Their noses touching. His hands grip her waist. Her new pink sweater a beautiful contrast to her black hair. Xavier tilts his head. There lips centimeters apart. “I promise.”

Y/n smiles and leans back. “Good, because i got something for you if you do…” She smiles and then twirls out of his arms. “Got to go.” “Me too,” He reaches for her one last time. Their hands meet and then she pulls away.

Thinking about doing a series of Oneshots. Y’all interested? Smut to come of course.

Requests are open

Phone calls with Xavier.

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday!reader #the addams family #addams!reader #tyler galpin x reader #gracesmusings

660 notes · View notes

lavendermage · 1 year

Text

It’s not hard to be nice to you.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Hello! I would like to request smth if your taking requests :)

That one thing you did, ‘A safe space’ or smth with the Diluc and Kaeya? Could you do smth similar except Reader is more… emtionally abused?

thanks :)

have a nice day :DDD

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Characters: Child Diluc and Kaeya, Crepus

Genre: Hurt comfort, gender neutral child reader, not canon compliant.

TW: Child abuse, emotional abuse, breaking glass, food shaming (just learned that’s a phrase)

A/n: I finally filled my first request! (I actually copy pasted the request here to save it. I heard of stuff disappearing, and I wanted to make sure I had it.) And yes, requests are open and details are in my bio. I’m sorry for how long it took, my organizational system sucks. Tws are pretty specific, but I think they’re common triggers? Idk. Mildly concerned that my most popular fic is about abuse. I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves.

1.5k words

You, Diluc and Kaeya were perched on the bridge to Mondstadt proper, throwing bread to the birds. They crowded around under the bridge, swimming around to catch the food. The wind was cooling as the sun set. It would be time to go home soon.

"I need to go back." You sighed. “You know how they get.”

"Your guardian isn't very nice to you." Kaeya said abruptly.

You froze. "It's not a big deal."

"It is." Kaeya insisted.

"They're just tired." You tried to explain.

“So are you, and you’re not like that.” Kaeya pointed out.

"We could have a sleepover! Then you don't have to be with them and they get a break." Diluc suggested.

"It's too much trouble. I don't want to bother you." You sighed.

"You won't. Our father is very nice." Diluc said.

"He is." Kaeya agreed, nodding.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Diluc said.

You brightened. "OK! I'll ask my guardian." You discussed the details quickly before running back home. It was getting dark and you didn't want to get in trouble.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Your guardian's vice-like grip crushed your shoulder. It was possessive and made your skin crawl. They spoke in that fake-friendly voice they used in public. "Are you sure you want to deal with them?"

"It's no issue. From what I've seen they are a wonderful kid." Crepus said, a friendly smile on his face. "They're only staying the night, and the staff is used to kids."

"Not my kid. Can't do anything without messing up." They laughed.

You felt your face flush. Not in front of him!, you wanted to scream. Mr. Ragnvindr was cool, you wanted to be like him when you grew up. You didn't want him to think you were useless. You kept your mouth shut though, even as tears stung your eyes.

Mr. Ragnvindr noticed your discomfort. "My own sons can be a handful too sometimes. They're still learning."

"Alright, but if they burn the house down don't say I didn't warn you." They laughed again, a cruelness undercutting it. It was harsh on your ears and it took everything to not flinch.

“We have a pyro vision in the house. It wouldn’t be the first time something caught fire.” He joked and he looked at you as he said it, trying to reassure you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dinner’s spaghetti!" Diluc eagerly pulled you into the house. "The cooks make the best tomato sauce!"

The delicious smell greeted you as you walked in the door. Your mouth watered just thinking about how good it must taste.

Kaeya had sat already, waving excitedly for you to sit next to him.

Crepus appeared holding three wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of grape juice in the other. "Welcome! Take a seat." He gestured to the seat next to Kaeya.

You did and Diluc sat on your other side.

“Can I pour the juice?” He asked.

“Of course.” Crepus handed him the bottle.

You watched as Diluc uncorked it and poured it carefully into each cup, twisting the bottle after each pour. His brows furrowed in concentration as he did it. As soon as he finished he set down the bottle and looked for his father’s assessment.

“That’s my boy!” He smiled proudly. “You’ve learned so much. You’ll be a bartender in no time.”

You should be happy, but jealousy tugged at your heart. Why wasn’t your guardian like that?”

“Let’s eat!”

You dug in. The food was so warm and the pasta had the perfect bite to it. “Al dente’ or whatever Diluc had called it. You didn’t know how to describe food the way he did, but it was delicious. You scarfed down the whole plate in seconds. You froze, fork in hand. He was going to yell at you. You had eaten too fast, too greedily, and he was going to yell at you. Pig.

But he didn’t. All he did was ask if you wanted seconds.

“Am I… allowed to?” You asked nervously, waiting for the rant about how greedy you were.

“Of course. Eat as much as you want. You need to eat so your body can grow. The boys eat enough for five men, it’s incredible.” He laughed.

Adeline brought another bowl and whisked the empty one away.

You ate slower this time and your eyes kept darting up to monitor Crepus’s face. He caught you once and just looked back sadly.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” Diluc asked, a serious expression on his face. He was practicing his host etiquette.

You panicked slightly, your mouth was too full to talk. You swallowed quickly and nodded. “It’s really good.”

“Tell Adeline, it makes her really happy when Diluc and I like her food.” Kaeya added.

You nodded again. “I will.”

Dinner ended soon after. You made sure to thank Adeline when she came by again.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner.” She smiled sweetly. “Diluc, Kaeya, please collect the plates.”

“Can I help too?”

“Of course. Just stack the cups and put them at the head of the table.”

“Ok!” You did as you were told and collected all the cups. As you walked to the head of the table to put them down, you tripped. You caught yourself but the cups fell out of your hands and shattered on the wood floor. It was silent. Not for long, you thought, readying yourself. You fell to your knees and reached to pick up the shards of glass, trying to reduce the punishment.

“Y/n, stop!” Crepus’s loud voice broke the silence.

You did, fear freezing the blood in your veins. Tears pooled in your eyes and then slipped down your cheek. Apologies spilled from your lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t mean too, please don’t be angry, I won’t do it again.” Your words were interrupted by your own sobs and sorries.

Crepus carefully walked up to you and crouched at your level. “I’m not angry. I don’t want you to touch the glass because you’ll cut yourself.” “It was an accident, I swear, I’ll pay you back-”

“I know it is. You don’t have to pay anything.”

Kaeya’s cold hand rested on your shoulder and Diluc stood a little to the side.

“You know what, I’ll show you how little of a problem this is. We’ll clean it up together. Kaeya, Diluc, get the broom and dustpan from the pantry.”

“I can-”

“You don’t know where it is.” Diluc pointed out.

“My sons can handle this task, no need to worry. I’m just glad you caught yourself.”

You stared at him blankly, confused.

“It would have been worse if you got hurt instead of the glasses.”

“It… would?”

A pained expression crossed his face. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“I’m an adult, it’s not your job to worry about me.” He rested his hand on your head and started petting your hair when you didn’t flinch.

“We’re back!” Diluc held a broom in his hand while Kaeya held the dust pan.

“Thank you.” Crepus turned his attention back to you. “I’ll hold the dustpan and you’ll sweep the glass into it, ok?”

You nodded and Diluc passed you the broom. Your hands shook as you swept but you finished up quickly. “That’s all?”

“Yes, see? It’s not a big deal. Now who wants ice cream?”

Both boys raised their hands.

“And you?”

“Aren’t I being punished?”

“Of course not. What flavor do you want?”

“Cho-chocolate?”

“You got it!” Adeline appeared out of seemingly nowhere and took everyone’s orders.

Three little bowls of ice cream came out, each with beautiful little spoons. Chocolate, raspberry, strawberry. You ate yours, still sniffling from your tears earlier.

“Do you want to taste some of mine?” Kaeya lifted a spoon of raspberry.

“If it’s alright…”

He plopped a spoonful into your bowl.

“Mine’s a little soupy, but you can still try.” Diluc poured a little of his ice cream soup next to Kaeya’s raspberry. His pyro had melted it.

You sniffed and rubbed at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.” Diluc panicked. “Is it because the ice creams mixed?”

“You’re so nice.” You sobbed.

Crepus put a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not hard to be nice to you, and even if it was, it would be worth it.”

721 notes · View notes

illuminatedquill · 7 months

Text

Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger:

Star Scar-Crossed Lovers

They don't know how much they'll miss At least until you're gone like this Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath Half your life, you've been hooked on death" Twice the dreams, but half the love Be careful what you bottle up The chemistry is a mess, it seems But me, I'm still a sunbeam I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me Tell me, when the party ends Will you still love who I am, I am? - Fall Out Boy, Heaven, Iowa

Here's the thing - Ezra's disappearance and subsequent absence from Sabine's life was always going to hurt her in a way that no one else's did.

All because Ezra was kind. That's the horrible, tragic irony of it all that keeps me up at night. Sabine has lost so many loved ones throughout her life: ran from her own family; her fellow Mandalorian and friend Ketsu Onyo left her for dead; Kanan died to allow her, Hera, and Ezra to escape Imperial forces; and, later on, her master, Ahsoka Tano left her shortly after the Purge of Mandalore.

It's arguable that even Hera and Zeb presumably became estranged from her at some point during or after the events of the Original Trilogy. The Ghost Crew split up. Sabine is alone on Lothal and clearly is not accustomed to visitors when we see her in the Ahsoka premiere.

Sabine, as we know, is accustomed to this. She has developed a method of "moving on" and forging a new path ahead. She internalizes the pain, for better and worse, and keeps moving.

It's served her fairly well.

But not with Ezra. He does the one thing none of those others did: he leaves a message, just for her, shortly before his disappearance with Thrawn into another galaxy.

With that message, that act of unconditional love and kindness, it leaves an indelible scar on Sabine's heart.

With the others who left or died or she ran away from, she could ignore the pain. Sabine could justify it for being due to one reason or another.

Ezra's message does away with that defense. Slips past through her hardened exterior and nestles deep within her heart.

Because he's kind. Because he's Ezra and he didn't want to leave his friend without saying good-bye and wanted to give her some sense of closure.

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." - Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

She doesn't close the door on Ezra. But she can't cross through it either. For the next ten years, Sabine becomes stagnant, keeping that fire of hope burning for her lost friend but unable to act on it.

And she plays that message every day, probably.

Plays it again.

And again.

She dreams of that recording; has Ezra's statement memorized to where she mouths along the words with him and can even copy his mannerisms. Sabine takes to heart every little one of his movements and how shy and awkward he looks when he says she's "like a sister" to him.

(And she scoffs. Every single time. But doesn't quite know why that line irritates her.)

The tragedy is that Ezra's message was meant to reassure Sabine and let her move on . . . only to do the exact opposite.

It becomes a burden to bear - one that she does so willingly and with all the ferocity and determination she can muster. But, still a burden it is, despite Ezra's good intentions.

Sabine eventually does the unthinkable - she takes on the mantle of a Jedi.

Think about it. Never, in the entirety of Rebels, had she ever shown an inkling of being interested in following the Jedi path.

Why now? What's changed?

It's simple. Ezra's gone.

Maybe it's a desire to get closer with him but, equally likely, Sabine sees it as a potential avenue to find him someday. She's seen it's power and the abilities it produces in those who are able to wield it.

But even that path forward to Ezra fails. Her people - and her family - are purged by the Empire and Ahsoka cuts her Jedi training short out of fear for Sabine becoming dangerous should she reach her full potential after such a tremendous loss.

More years pass, but the fire never dies. But Sabine cannot do anything. She stays locked in Ezra's watchtower, seeing the galaxy return to life but not feeling any of it for herself.

And then, eventually, Ahsoka returns with the map to Thrawn.

We know the rest.

The planet of Seatos. The map. Ahsoka's fall.

Sabine's choice. The only choice. The grand calculus of the universe demands that she place duty over love; that she throw away Thrawn's one chance of returning to finish what he started.

And, in doing so, doom Ezra to die far, far away from home.

And Sabine makes her choice. Gambles the fate of her galaxy, the hard won peace that so many had fought and died for - all for love.

The Ahsoka finale seems to find Sabine and Ahsoka making peace over her choice. Yes, Thrawn has returned to the galaxy - but so has Ezra, thus fulfilling Sabine's promise to herself of getting him home.

Ahsoka reassures her that the Force has plans in motion - that although they are stranded in another galaxy, they are meant to be here. Just like Ezra is meant to be back home.

Trust in the Force. Sabine and Ezra will find their way back to each other, no matter what.

. . . But there's always consequences to a decision. Always.

I don't believe that Sabine sacrificing her desire to be with Ezra after being kept apart for so long is the true cost of what she did. I don't think that's her real trial.

I think the real reckoning is yet to come.

Because Ezra never found out how she came to find him.

Sabine could not bring herself to tell him. Because she is, appropriately, scared of how he will react. She does not want to lose him again.

(The weight of that will break the galaxy.)

Helping Thrawn return is not only a betrayal of everything Ezra and others had sacrificed for but it places Lothal, Hera, Jacen, Zeb, and countless other beings in extreme danger.

In making her deal with Baylan to find Thrawn, Sabine may end up losing him again in a way more permanent than being trapped in a distant galaxy.

Sabine got him back after so long . . . only for her choice to cause an irreparable rift in their relationship.

The loss of Ezra's love, trust, and respect for Sabine is something I cannot fathom how she would handle. She saved him, only to lose him because of it.

And to think from it on Ezra's side - that he doesn't know how his message came to define Sabine's life these past ten years. He's Force-sensitive and, more importantly, knows Sabine better than most people; he knows she's hiding something from him.

But I don't think he could guess it was something like helping Thrawn. He wouldn't even consider it being in character for her, let alone especially for someone who is training to be a Jedi.

Ezra would never, for a single second, consider that Sabine is a traitor. It's unthinkable for him. It's probably why he never questioned Sabine further after she showed up on Peridea with little explanation.

For what reason would she risk the galaxy? To throw everything into the hands of the galaxy's most feared and cunning Imperial warlord?

And when he finds out it was all for him . . . . my heart breaks for Ezra.

The scar of Sabine's choice would mark him long enough for several lifetimes.

How do you fix something like that? How do you come back from a betrayal that burns everything you've ever sacrificed for, everything you've ever stood for?

How do you face the person you trusted to safeguard all of that, only to find out that they're the one who lit the flame?

How do you reconcile that they did all these terrible things for you?

(Ask Vader how well that turned out for him.)

It's Sabine. It's Ezra.

And the scars they've given each other . . . all for love.

If Filoni is brave enough, then this could be the most interesting relationship in all of Star Wars.

#sabezra #ezrabine #sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #ahsoka #ahsoka show #star wars #ahsoka spoilers

91 notes · View notes

pengychan · 24 days

Text

[Baldur’s Gate III] A Deal in Three Acts: Act II

Title: A Deal in Three Acts Summary: Weeks since Raphael took temporary residence at Sharess’ Caress, Haarlep is bored. Still waiting for Tav to take him up on his offer, Raphael is frustrated. Tav chooses an interesting evening to show up with a counter-offer. Characters: Raphael, Haarlep, Tav. Rating: Explicit Status: Complete

Act I here Also on AO3

*** Sometimes nice simple plans fall apart, but they can be salvaged with an incubus on your side. I think. ***

When Tav had left Elfsong Tavern to head for Sharess’ Caress, she had a plan.

A nice, simple plan, as Astarion had called it after they’d spent hours going through every detail of their counter-offer to avoid every possible pitfall. Two centuries since he’d last donned a magistrate’s robes, he still had plenty of insight to give when it came to binding contracts.

“I think I would have hated dealing with magistrate Ancunín,” Tav had muttered. Sitting on the tavern’s terraced roof to bask in the rays of the dying sun, a leg dangling off into the air, Astarion had laughed. He laughed a lot more lately, and it was good to see. In the days after they’d cut down Cazador Szarr, he’d seemed to emptied out that everyone at camp had worried. Now, finally, it seemed to have truly hit him - that the monster who’d taken everything from him was gone, and could never hurt him again.

Tav hoped to feel like that, too, and soon.

“Oh, most people hated dealing with this menace,” Astarion had said, gesturing to himself. “And our friend Raphael will be none too pleased by our counter-offer, I bet, but you must not yield an inch. He’s desperate for that crown, and while we have a backup plan, he does not. Our little, shall we say, requests are just trivial matters to the bearer of the Crown of Karsus. He has nothing to lose and everything to gain by accepting.”

“I suppose the clause binding him to limit his rule to the Nine Hells of Baator may be the main stumbling block.”

“Ah, but he already said he’d do that, didn’t he? He cannot refuse to put it on paper without admitting he lied. Of course, we’ll need the entire contract in a language we understand . And a copy for ourselves. I really can’t believe so many people keep doing that. Signing contracts in some language they don’t know, without even their own copy. Wyll was incredibly lucky we found a way to break his contract and save his father.”

“Not everyone’s a magistrate, magistrate.”

“That’s bloody common sense, darling. Now, let’s go over this again, just to make sure you didn’t forget anything…”

They did, and she hadn’t. Tav left the tavern before the last rays of sun disappeared beyond buildings, taking care to speak with no one else. She knew all too well that most of her companions would disapprove, to say the least - Karlach and Gale most of all. But this was for their sake, too.

If everything went as planned, if she could get Raphael to accept the counter-offer, they would both be free of the ticking time bombs in their chests. And of course, Tav would get a shot at seeing an Archdevil die.

The Hells were the Hells; it did not matter to her what devil ruled supreme over it all. She’d gladly hand Raphael the crown and all her own magic on top of it, if it meant she could see Zariel dead and broken, a charred husk among ruins like… like…

“I’m not going to give you a lecture about revenge, because you deserve it as I deserved mine,” was the last thing Astarion had told her before she left. “But they’re dead and you’re alive. Take the blood you’re owed, but keep your life.”

“Is that a very long-winded way to tell me to be careful?”

“I say it a lot better than you do, my friend. If you’re not back by morning, I’ll come looking. You can be certain I will. But I’ll be cursing you the entire way there and back.”

Tav, who’d planned to be back long before morning, had nodded. A simple goal, a simple plan. Nothing was going to throw her off course; she told herself as much while going up the stairs, opening the door, and stepping in the room.

Then-- well, for all her grim determination, the sight had sort of thrown her off. You can never be completely sure of what you’ll see when walking in on a devil, but Tav had no trouble admitting that ‘Raphael fucking himself in the most literal sense possible’ was not among the possible scenarios she’d thought up. She hadn’t meant to make noise, either, but she had and all things considered, it had been a blessing in disguise.

Had the incubus not helpfully introduced themself to her, she might have assumed that the Bhaal cult’s shapeshifters were taking an entirely new approach since Orin’s demise, and she might have attacked. Needless to say, it would have made the situation quite awkward.

Well. More awkward.

“Why don’t you join us, little mouse? Get up close and discuss to your heart’s content. I won’t interrupt. I’ll just be doing my thing.”

“Haarlep--” Raphael tried to speak, his voice strained in a way Tav had never heard it, and even that attempt broke up into a groan when the incubus thrust upwards. It was, pun intended, one hell of a sight: Raphael’s naked body on the lap of an incubus who looked almost exactly like his cambion form, his thighs spread open and chest heaving with ragged breaths.

And Tav she knew a chance when she saw it. She couldn’t have dreamed up an occasion like that, with Raphael that vulnerable, barely coherent . Plus, no matter what Astarion said - she was very much not made of wood. When she met his eyes, clouded with lust as they were, her next words came out in a husky murmur. “May I, Raphael?”

A wordless groan, all his eloquence gone, but it was the only answer she needed. His chest shuddered under her touch and oh, he was feverishly warm, skin glossy with sweat. Beneath her palm, his heart thumped wildly. Tav leaned in, and pressed her lips against his throat. She felt him swallow, and smiled. Her own breathing came a little faster, too. “Tell me what you want.”

“The crown--” he tried, only for an especially clever twist of Haarlep’s hips and to turn the words in a whine. The incubus caught Tav’s eye over his shoulder, and grinned. If they knew what she was trying to do, one thing was clear: they had no intention to stop her.

Good.

Tav pulled back, and tilted Raphael’s chin up. She ran her thumb across his lips, her other hand trailing down his chest, down his stomach, coming to rest on a trembling thigh. “Yes,” she said. “It would look good on you. I want to give you that crown. So you can see all the devils of Baator bowing to you - that’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

“I--” he groaned, dropping his head back against Haarlep’s shoulder at a well-timed tilt of their hips. His hands clenched on sheets. “Yes,” he breathed. There was something else to his shaky voice, a need, a hunger that could never be sated. It sent a shiver down Tav’s spine, more heat pooling in her loins. It was getting really, really warm in that armor.

“You want to see them kneel, don’t you?” she whispered, and finally took his cock in her hand, her touch light, to trace a vein with a nail. “You want to see everyone kneel.”

Raphael’s hips shuddered, and he couldn’t bite back a cry. “Yes,” he managed, and Haarlep laughed.

“Oh, this one,” they said, grinding up into Raphael. “I like her.”

Somehow, Raphael managed a scoff. “You like-- everyone, you insatiable--”

“That’s patently untrue, my pet. I don’t like you, for one.”

The response made Raphael scowl, and wrinkle his nose. He wrinkled his nose a lot when annoyed and it made it somewhat difficult to take him seriously, power of the Hells and all. Tav smiled, and leaned in, almost close enough to kiss him. She did not have Yurgir’s keen sense of smell, but there it was, just like he’d said - the scent of cherries and musk beneath the lingering sulfur. Her voice had always been a little too rough to sound truly sweet, but she did her best to soften it. “Do you want me to kneel for you, Raphael?”

He didn’t answer, not with words: he tried to lean forward instead, to catch her lips with his, to grab her and pull her closer. Tav was fast enough to pull back, though, and the incubus’ hands grasped Raphael’s wrists, snake-quick. Haarlep laughed at the frustrated noise that got out of him, and thrust upwards into him sharply, biting into his shoulder in the same motion.

“Behave, little brat,” they purred against his ear. “She asked you a question, it’s only polite to answer. With words. Do you want her to kneel for you?”

If Tav could bottle the moan that left Raphael then, and sell it, she’d be able to buy the Gate and everyone in it ten times over. Maybe there was a way to do that, really, but working it out would have to wait. Right now, she had a more urgent matter to take care of.

Well, two urgent matters. There was the contract, too. She probably shouldn’t forget that.

“What did you say, pet? I couldn’t hear a yes or a no.” The incubus grinned, delighted, and bit into his shoulder again. Raphael cried out, wordless, but he managed a nod and Tav supposed she could go with that. She placed a kiss on his shoulder, just below the bite mark, and knelt between his trembling thighs. Up close, she noticed the ring at the base of his cock for the first time. She tilted her head, running a finger down the length.

Well, look at that. He wasn’t getting to come anytime soon with that thing on.

“Believe me, you’d have missed all the fun if I hadn’t put that on,” Haarlep almost sing-sang, and let go of one of Raphael’s wrists to grab his face, forcing him to look down. Tav lifted her gaze to see his eyes on her, his lips parted and face flushed, Haarlep’s claws pressing mercilessly into his cheeks. The incubus in question smiled over his shoulder.

“Do you know what he sees when he looks at you? He’ll never tell you, but he told me. I can make him tell me everything,” they cooed, and silenced Raphael’s attempt at a protest with two fingers in his mouth, pressing down his tongue. Raphael made an indignant noise, but his body remained flush against Haarlep’s chest, his eyes still fixed on Tav, wide and dark and hungry. “Can you guess?”

Great, so this was a guessing game now. Tav raised an eyebrow. “A rodent of small size?” she ventured. The incubus’ smile widened.

“His kingdom, that’s what he sees. He looks at you, and he sees his crowning glory.”

Well, fuck. That sure did something to the pit of her stomach and a little below that too. Gods was it hot in there. “Ah,” Tav said, and her voice cracked just a touch, but she managed to catch herself. She had to keep some measure of control if she was to negotiate, because Raphael’s helpless state would do her no good if her brain also turned to mush. So she steadied herself, and locked eyes with him.

She was beginning to feel decidedly overdressed, and her own face was burning, but she held his gaze as she took hold of his cock and leaned in to press her lips on the side of the shaft in a soft kiss. Raphael keened around Haarlep’s fingers, hips shuddering and back arching. The incubus laughed, and thrust up again - hard - to tear another cry from his throat.

“Ah, now we’re talking. You’re so much more fun than usual, my little brat,” they said, soft, almost affectionate. They snuck their free arm around Raphael to pull him back against their chest, pinching a nipple. “But oh, aren’t we terrible hosts. I should have told you to make yourself at home, little mouse. Feel free to slip out of that armor. It looks so uncomfortable.” A pause, a tilt of their head. “And unflattering, if I may.”

Tav allowed one more kiss on the inside of Raphael's thigh and stood, just a little unsteady. She began undoing the clasps with a huff. “The point of an armor isn’t to be flattering,” she muttered, letting the parts drop on the floor and trying not to look in Raphael’s direction just yet. “It’s to keep pointy things from skewering you.”

“Oh, then you should definitely take it off now.”

“... Guess I walked into that one.”

The last of Tav’s underclothes were dropped on the floor, and only then did she look back at Haarlep and Raphael. The incubus had pulled their fingers out of Raphael’s mouth and was smiling, eyes running over her body. Not a lot there for them to see, to be entirely honest; she’d always been about as shapely as a wooden board.

On one of the last nights they’d spent together, Misza had joked that she had curves enough for them both, and pretended to smother her against her breast. They had laughed like idiots, and that was when Tav had decided she should put a ring on it, before someone else snatched her up. And she’d been snatched all right, but down, down into the Hells along with the entire city and--

A lump threatened to form in her throat and Tav forced it away, pushing memories of better times in the back of her mind, where dead things lingered amidst the ruins of Elturel. Dead, charred things. Her mother and father and all her little siblings, and the woman she’d wanted to propose to once she returned from her time in the countryside, where she had gone to learn how to better control her wild magic.

But she’d returned to find a crater where Elturel once was; while the city re-emerged from the Hells in the end, many of its inhabitants didn’t live to see the sky again. She had buried the only body she could recognize, her youngest brother with his owlbear plush toy still in his arms. Then the ring meant for Misza had been sold for passage to Baldur’s Gate and she’d left, long before the surviving citizens cast out all remaining tieflings among them.

“Are you well, little mouse?” Haarlep’s voice snapped her out of it, and they spoke slower, their gaze more focused, a hint of a frown across their features.

Tav met their gaze, and smiled. She had plenty of reasons to smile. They were all gone, but she was still around and so was Zariel, who’d had the city dragged into Avernus. Zariel, who would never surrender her throne without a fight. Zariel, whose days as archdevil would be numbered if Raphael got his way - and he would, as long as she could secure a few clauses. She’d happily be the key to Raphael’s future kingdom, then.

After all, he was her key to Zariel’s bloody demise. It was a fair exchange. He just didn’t need to know that.

“Just admiring the sights,” she said, and looked back at the devil she was getting to know a damn lot better than before. Raphael had shut his eyes, brow furrowed and breathing fast, clearly trying to regain some semblance of control. And that, she knew, would not do. The less in control he was, the more chances she had to turn the negotiations her way.

So she pushed aside hesitation, strode to the bed, and tilted up Raphael’s face. He blinked his eyes open, as though startled by the touch, and swallowed. “The crown,” he breathed, and Tav smiled. Her other hand went down to her folds, two fingers slipping in and coming out slick and glistening. She pressed them to Raphael’s mouth and he parted his lips to let them in, eyes falling shut with a shiver. His tongue felt too warm, too, and Tav licked her lips.

“Yes,” she rasped, pushing him against Haarlep’s chest. The incubus leaned back, arms braced on the mattress behind them, and Raphael could only tilt back against them, groaning at the shift of the cock inside him. Tav straddled him, letting his erection barely brush against her labia, just enough to let him feel how warm she was, and how wet. His breath hitched, eyes fluttering open, and she smiled again. “Let’s talk about the crown I’m going to place on your head. I’d like to see you with that on. Just the crown.”

A hand through his hair, the press of lips against his own, and Raphel’s hands gripped her sides hard enough to bruise, pulling her flush against him, chest to chest. She blinked, taken aback, but then she felt him part his lips to let her tongue in and ah, may as well. She kissed him, more roughly and a good deal more enthusiastically than she had originally planned.

“I think he likes us,” she recalled Astarion saying, and she recalled her reply just as well.

"I like him too, but I'd never say it to his smarmy face."

Well. She was not saying anything of the sort, and he didn’t look all that smarmy anymore, so her point still stood. She heard, dimly, Haarlep’s throaty chuckle.

“This one’s eager, pet. Didn’t even need my saliva to help along.”

There was something that sounded very much like a growl deep in Raphael’s chest, and he pulled away from Tav’s mouth to turn and snap at Haarlep to be quiet. Or try to, because it took the incubus only a jolt of their hips for his words to turn into a moan.

“You be quiet, little brat. You’re no one’s master tonight, remember?” they whispered against his ear, and smiled at Tav over his shoulder. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, by the way. I’m always telling Raphael he should introduce me to his friends more often. Alas, he expressly forbade me to play with you. Never seen him get this jealous.”

“That’s not--” Raphael gasped, and Haarlep silenced him with a few swift thrusts. Still straddling Raphael, Tav grasped his shoulders to avoid being thrown off; his cock rubbed against her folds, only for a moment, but it tore a gasp from her and a moan from Raphael. He dropped his forehead against Tav’s shoulder, gasping, and Tav cupped the back of his head without thinking, stroked down the back of his neck before she finally, finally , allowed herself to sink down on him.

“Oh…” A sigh, and she closed her eyes, taking a moment to savor the feeling, the stretch. She was wet and he slid in so easily, so deep. Was it supposed to feel that warm? Was it a devil thing? Did it matter? Probably not; it felt good either way. Against her skin, Raphael let out an incoherent noise and grasped her again, pulling her close.

Don’t worry, I’m going nowhere, she almost said, but what left her mouth was quite different.

“This is going to be quite a tale,” she groaned, her voice rough, and rocked her hips. “That I bedded the archdevil supreme. No one’s going to believe me.”

A shudder, and there was no telling what had caused it - the heat of her around him, her movements, or her words. Either way, he pulled back enough to look at her. There it was, in the midst of pleasure - that hungry look again. “You shall give me the crown,” he rasped, and Tav smiled.

“I want to give you the crown just as much as you want to put an end to the Grand Design. But like you, I have conditions.” A kiss, deep, a slow tilt of her hips. Haarlep moved again beneath them, inside Raphael, and somehow it was easy to match their movements, find the right rhythm. Raphael’s breaths came in shuddering gasps, but he did not call for either of them to stop. “So I have come with a counteroffer.”

A scoff. “There is no counteroffer to be-- made,” he groaned through clenched teeth.

A smile, a kiss. “You forget,” Tav whispered against his lips, rocking slowly, “that I have a backup plan, and you do not.”

“Trusting-- ah-- an Illithid is no plan. It’s sheer-- ngh-- idiocy.”

“Ah, but I thrive on idiocy. Idiocy got me this far.” She stilled, clenched around him, and muffled the noise that got out of him with another kiss. “It might just carry me a little further. If the Emperor can help us destroy the Netherbrain, with or without Orpheus - and you know he can - then we’ll have no reason to give you the crown. Why risk it all without hearing me out?” A light bite on his lower lip. “You’ll find my requests more than reasonable.”

Raphael scowled, but he tilted back his head against Haarlep’s shoulder, and closed his eyes. When she leaned in to nip at his throat, she felt him swallow. “... What are your requests?” he finally groaned.

Well, this is it. Best to start small.

“There are two requests that you can satisfy with little more than a snap of your fingers, I’m sure. Two of my companions carry their doom in their chests. I know that with the Crown of Karsus, you can remove the orb from Gale quite readily - and without harming him. And someone capable of creating the Orphic Hammer surely knows how to fix an infernal engine so it can work on this plane without killing its bearer.”

A low, breathy chuckle. “Of course. These will be trivial matters to me.”

“So is that something you’d be willing to add to the contract?”

“Consider it done. Will that-- ah-- ” Raphael trailed off for a moment, trembling, before he caught his voice again. “Will that be all?”

“Not quite. I want to make it clear that no soul but mine will be involved.” She ground against him, hard, and grasped his chin to make sure he’d look at her. His eyes opened, wide and dark, to meet hers. “The crown for the hammer, and for your help for Gale and Karlach, with my soul - mine alone - as the collateral if I fail to deliver the crown. If I deliver it to you, as I intend to, my soul will remain my own.”

Tav watched Raphael’s brow furrow, watched him think it over with as much difficulty one can experience while being fucked by an incubus and a woman at the same time, and finally watched him jerk his head in a nod. “Yes, that is-- ah-- reasonable,” he panted. His hands ran down her back, down her sides, and stopped on her thighs. “Will that-- be all?”

“Not quite.” A kiss, rough. “Another collateral seems fair. You said you’ll limit your rule to the Nine Hells of Baator.”

“And I shall,” Raphael replied, trying to bite her lip, but she was too quick to pull back. She smiled, brushing a hand down his chest, down his stomach, almost to the point where their bodies joined. Her fingers brushed against his shaft, causing him to shudder.

“I want that in writing, binding you to relinquish the crown’s ownership to Mystra if you break the clause.”

As she had very much expected, Raphael stilled beneath her. He glowered, anger crossing his features even through the daze of pleasure. “No,” he all but growled, and seemed about to add something - but Haarlep rocked into him harder than before, Tav clenched around him, and his voice broke into a groan. Haarlep winked at her; it cost Tav some effort not to openly smile back.

If she succeeded in her mission, she would probably owe the incubus a favor. Oh well. Something could be worked out, surely.

“No?” she repeated, all fake innocence. She cupped Raphael’s cheek, looking at him in the eye. Her thumb brushed over his lips. “But you have already pledged to keep to the Hells. Putting that in writing should be no trouble at all. Why would it be?”

Because he’d had no intention whatsoever to be true to that pledge, was the obvious answer, but it wasn’t something he could admit without showing his hand. She knew it, he knew it, and he was livid about it.

… Not livid enough to push her off him, however. She took note of that while waiting for a response. She watched him clench his jaw, then make an effort to smooth his expression.

“It rather hurts,” he rasped, voice so low, “to see my word doesn’t carry enough weight for you.”

Tav couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “No one’s word does.” She leaned in to kiss the bridge of his nose. “ Verba volant, scripta manent. You of all people would know what that means. You’d be a poor devil indeed, not to take advantage of the lack of a written clause. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t at least try, and you have never disappointed so far.”

He still scowled, but when she pulled back he reached to grasp her head, to pull her mouth back on his. It was a rough, devouring kiss - the first such initiative from his part - and she yielded to it immediately. She sighed into his mouth, wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her hips again, pressing him down on Haarlep with her meager weight. She swallowed his groan, and shuddered when he bit into her lower lip - not hard enough to draw blood but oh, almost. For a few moments all she could hear was his panting breath, her own thumping heart, and the slick noises they made as she rocked against him again.

And then, finally, a groan. “... Very well,” he rasped. “It will be clearly stated in the contract--”

“Which will be written in common tongue,” she cut him off. “For me to ready before I sign. With a copy for me to keep.”

This time, she felt the frustrated growl in his chest more than she heard it. His hands, which had been going down her spine, stilled. “Infernal contracts,” he bit out, obviously short on breath, “are meant to be written in Infernal. It’s very much in the name, little mouse.”

Tav leaned her cheek on his shoulder, and bit at his earlobe. “A certified translation, then, with witnesses,” she panted. He felt hot to the touch and so did she, unbearably so, skin slick with sweat. Still she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Cherries and musk, yes, and despite the lingering sulfur it was sweet, sweet, intoxicating. Pressure was building up, white-hot. She had to bite her lower lip not to moan. “A-- and a clause that makes the contract null and void-- if the translation differs in any way,” she managed.

Another groan, part frustration and part arousal, as he shuddered beneath her. “This is-- not the norm, with any contract--”

“But this isn’t any contract, Raphael.” She pulled back, despite the tight grasp around her, to press a kiss against his lips. “This is the one that will make you the archdevil supreme of all Baator.”

“I’ve extended-- more than enough grace--”

“I only want guarantees for what you already promised.” Tav cut him off, and smiled against his lips before pulling away, arching her back. To her satisfaction, Raphael had to bite his lips to silence a moan. She placed both hands on his chest, and rocked her hips. She was close - Gods, was she close - and he was still hard within her, so warm, unable to finish.

“Contracts can be changed, if both parties agree,” she managed through ragged breaths. “The ruler of all Hells may yet convince me to revise it.” Absolutely not, but you’re welcome to try. If I truly can take that crown from a Netherbrain I’ll be able to take it from you, if I must. “And you’ll have plenty of time to do so. I’ll come to the Hells and join your war.” Let me be the one to cut down Zariel, and I’ll follow you to the Ninth. “We can make-- a separate contract, if you like. I won’t leave until I see you sit on Asmodeus’ throne.”

For a moment, Raphael truly seemed at a loss for words. He stared, eyes wide, as though struggling to make sense of what he’d just heard. Even his grip on her hips slackened. “You-- I--”

“Oh, please let her come over. She’s fun. We could use some fun.”

Haarlep’s voice caused him to recoil, as though he’d somehow forgotten about their presence despite the cock buried inside him. Though come to think of it, Tav hadn’t felt Haarlep move for… several minutes, at least.

“You-- this is none of your concern, incubus-- and why did you stop? ” Raphael bit out, turning to glare at the incubus in question. They were leaning back on their elbows, head tilted, and grinned widely before thrusting upwards in a smooth motion. Raphael shuddered, and pressed his mouth against Tav’s shoulder to muffle a groan.

“Ah, my apologies. The two of you were such a fun spectacle to watch,” Haarlep muttered, and sat up, chest once again pressing against Raphael’s back. “You want to finish, don’t you, little brat?” Another upward thrust, another moan against Tav’s skin. “Then wrap up the conversation, pet. It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting for an answer.”

A growl, and Raphael lifted his head to look Tav in the eyes. Shortly after their first meeting, she recalled Gale claiming he’d seen a spark of Hellfire in his eyes. She’d thought he was just being dramatic at the time, but now, up close… oh, she could see it too, and more than a spark. It made her breath catch, pleasure coiling in her loins. Her grip on his shoulders tightened when he spoke, his voice low.

“... Very well. But you will get me that crown, little mouse. If you refuse, I will have your soul. If you fail to get it for me and die, I’ll still have your soul. Am I clear?”

A nod, a shuddering breath. “Yes,” she managed. “That sounds-- ah-- fair.”

“We have-- a deal, then,” Raphael breathed, and Tav claimed his lips again. Negotiations concluded, she could finally let go of the last shreds of self control and ride him in earnest, grinding hard against him. Her ears were buzzing and all her limbs felt so heavy and so light all of a sudden, her body flushing hot and cold at the same time.

Distantly, she heard Haarlep laugh, and Raphael cry out. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how that had to feel for him, with both her and Haarlep moving fast and hard, around him and inside him, keeping him trapped between them as they took their pleasure, unable to move and helplessly feeling it all.

Later, Tav wouldn't know for how long it went on. Too long, probably. Not long enough, surely. She teetered on the edge of orgasm and she was sure she’d break, but she did not. Or at least, she was not the first to break.

“Haarlep--” Raphael cried out against Tav’s neck, and something suspiciously like a sob wracked his body; the face pressed against her skin felt too wet for it to be just sweat. The incubus let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Tav felt their hand slip between them, down Raphael’s stomach and then lower, the back of it barely brushing against her as the fingers toyed with the ring at the base of Raphael’s cock.

“You want it off, don’t you, little duke?”

“Yes-- yes-- ”

“Beg.”

Another sob, and something dripped down Tav’s neck, down her shoulder. Raphael’s arms were gripping her tightly, as if he was desperately trying to ground himself to something. “Please,” he choked out, and somehow the desperation in his voice was what finally pushed Tav over the edge.

The orgasm was almost blinding, mind-numbing in its intensity, wave after wave of pleasure up her spine. She clenched around him and shuddered hard enough she almost thought, for a moment, that she might seize and die. What a way to go, she thought, barely coherent, holding onto the only Raphael for dear life. A hell of a way to go. If her heart stopped now, she wasn’t sure she’d have complaints.

She never had to find out, though, because her heart did not stop. It kept beating wildly in her chest when her shudders died down and she went limp against Raphael, panting, head spinning. Against her ear, Raphael keened.

“Please!”

A chuckle, and now even the incubus sounded breathless. “Good boy,” they said, and reached down again. Tav did not see or feel what they did, but suddenly the ring was gone and Raphael muffled a cry against her, his entire body shuddering. And maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, but Tav could have sworn even his come felt warmer than it had any right to be. She clenched around him reflexively, still mostly spent, and Raphael trembled before he, too, went limp.

“There, little brat. Take it,” Haarlep was murmuring, and thrust their hips upwards one last time before stilling and closing their eyes with a long, pleased sigh. “Oh, this was so much better than usual…”

They said something else, probably, but Tav was beyond hearing it. She must have blacked out, or something like it, because it felt as though she’d only blinked and then she opened her eyes to find herself leaning on her side on the bed, empty and panting, a sticky and cooling mess on the inside of her thighs. She was vaguely aware of the fact Haarlep was sitting at the foot of the bed, saying something about the pool in the next room; but she didn’t look up, couldn’t lift her head.

And neither, it seemed, could Raphael. He was still holding onto her, face wet and burrowed against her throat, breathing ragged. His frame trembled; she reached to brush his hair back without thinking, nails scraping gently against his scalp. She wasn’t sure how long she did that, mind empty of all thought, but eventually their breathing slowed, his trembling subsided. Her fingers tangled once more in Raphael’s hair and did not move again. He remained still, too, his breathing slow and steady against her skin.

Tav closed her eyes, and let herself fall into nothingness. Somewhere in that darkness on the brink of sleep she saw the Crown of Karsus on Raphael’s head, saw Zariel’s broken body at his feet, saw her head in her hands.

And she smiled.

***

[Back to Act I]

[On to Act III]

#bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 raphael #bg3 haarlep #tiefling tav #female tav #raphael bg3 #deal in three acts

29 notes · View notes