#cj writes

[puppy-steve]

"robin."

"you're drooling."

"robin."

"steve."

steve covers his face with his hands to muffle his groan. "robin," he whimpers, dragging his hands down. "robin, he's so hot."

robin rolls her eyes and fake gags, throwing a balled up receipt at him. "your taste in men is questionable."

"no, robs, you don't understand." he's on the precipice of whining. he throws a hand outward, dramatic. "look at him."

robin rolls her eyes and looks to where she already knows he's pointing. across the store, leaning over the new release table in front of the window, is eddie.

eddie, who has decided to battle the indiana summer heat with the shortest sleeveless crop top she's ever seen and a pair of cut off jeans with his hair in a ponytail.

steve makes another wounded noise when eddie turns around and makes a face, his lips pursed and his cheeks puffed out, absentmindedly scratching his (admittedly) soft belly as he scans the store.

she wrinkles her nose.

"if he isn't going to buy anything, i'm kicking him out for loitering." she's only teasing.

mostly.

quick as a flash, steve is pushing himself into her personal bubble, not that she minds, and poking her cheek with his finger. "don't you dare," he says, like he's scolding a misbehaving puppy. "i'll never speak to you again if you do."

"somehow i think i can live with that." he wouldn't even last a full hour.

steve backs away from her like he's been burned. he takes a breath, smooths out his shirt and vest, collecting himself. "alright. if you want to play that game. kick eddie out and leave me devoid of my favorite part of the day, and see if i pull for you anymore."

robin gasps in mock outrage. "you wouldn't–!"

"ahem."

they both jump and turn. eddie is standing at the counter, three tapes in front of him. his hands are in his back pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels, a devilish smirk on his face that he directs more toward steve.

"you know i could hear every word, right?"

#let stobin be mean and bitchy to each other every once in a while. it's their love language. #cj talks #cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #i liked being your schmuck #the three muskequeers #platonic stobin

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

[thefanciestborrower]

The Devouring of Prometheus

Ohh boy this fic has been over a year in the making and by golly am I proud of it. It was mostly an attempt to imitate Mary Shelley’s writing style while adding more classic lit vore into the world cause oh boy do we need it. This fic is a little darker than my usual fluffy stuff because. You know. It’s Frankenstein. But everything is still safe despite what Victor thinks. Anyways, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Contains soft, safe, unwilling vore, mentions of digestion, mentions of dying, mentions of cannon character death, minor injury, and vomit

Characters: Victor Frankenstein and the Creature

Word Count: 2,830

Mankind has no greater fear than that of being devoured. It is an instinctual fear, engrained deep within our very beings from the moment we are born, as it is in every living being, and yet it is perhaps one of the most uncommon fears to experience in its true, unaltered form. We are quite familiar with the notion of being killed and eaten by a wild beast, since such a thing, while not terribly common in the more civilized parts of the world, is often talked of in books and by explorers returning from long voyages to strange, wild lands. It is a threat to be sure, but perhaps not the most fear inspiring one. A hungry lion might indeed pounce upon you with his teeth and claws bared as if to shred you to ribbons while you lay awake in agony, but in truth he is far more merciful than even most men and will end you swiftly with a bite to the neck before he ever starts to feed. The fear of being eaten in this way, then, is diluted by the promise of a swift death at the claws of a creature who bore you no more malice than you do a butchered duck. 

The terror of being consumed lies not in the act of consumption, but in the method. Stories full of giants and ogres who devour men whole and alive fill the countryside and take captive the minds of all who hear them, filling their dreams with images of gnashing teeth and slavering mouths, capable of sending a grown man down, kicking and screaming, in a single swallow. I must confess I never heard much of these tales growing up, aside from a few Clerval was so fond of telling, and when they did reach my ears, I simply scoffed, laughing such frightening images away in the clear light of day when nothing could seem more ridiculous. They were children’s tales, I thought, simply meant to frighten and entertain, for nothing, man or beast, could swallow whole a living man. Oh, how I wish I had been right. 

He came for me in the night. I was asleep, or nearly so, when a sudden noise at my window startled me awake. At first I assumed it to be the scratching of a branch or perhaps even some night creature making its rounds through the garden outside. After all, I was far more unfamiliar with the Oxford landscape than my dear friend Clerval, who had spent much of his afternoon exploring the grounds, so I felt there to be no need for concern. Indeed, I had nearly turned over to drift back to sleep when I saw his eyes. Those wretched, sunken, yellow eyes staring as if into my very soul through the dusty window I had neglected to lock in my naivety. I might have screamed had fear not grasped my throat and strangled my voice, and though I longed to run, terror turned my legs to lead and forced me to watch as the fiend pried open the window with a delicate ease that seemed almost laughable compared to the rest of his hulking mass. I pulled my sheet up to shield my chest like a child might, entertaining fantasies that perhaps this was simply a nightmare, and if I remained still in my bed then he would be unable to harm me, but when he began to climb through the window with the elegance of a lion stalking his prey, eyes never once leaving me, panic settled over my heart and I realized this was no mere conjuring of an overworked mind. The beast was here, looming over me in my chambers as I trembled in bed with naught but a thin sheet and even thinner night clothes to protect me. 

“Devil! What do you want from me!” I cried at last, terror loosening her claws from my throat. “I have not forgotten our agreement, so why do you insist on tormenting me so!” 

I received no reply, the beast more than content to simply stare at my trembling form. Perhaps he enjoyed how weak I must have appeared before him as his eyes flicked over me, almost sizing me up for reasons I could never have comprehended in that moment. Cold and yellow as they were, I could see an inkling of some mysterious emotion behind those eyes, but it’s identity I couldn’t say. Nor did I care. My thoughts were quickly preoccupied as he advanced upon me, padding forwards like some great and terrible cat, until he stopped just shy of the side of my bed, so close I could have reached out and touched him. 

Again, I saw that strange emotion flicker behind his dead eyes, but before I had time to ponder it he wrapped his hands around my chest and lifted me from the safety of my bed with terrifying ease, like one might lift a small child or a doll, and while I screamed and writhed in his hideous grasp, his hold only tightened. My ribs creaked and complained under the pressure and my cries became strangled and choked. With a ghastly popping sound he opened his grotesque mouth, jaw hanging at an angle too wide for any human to achieve, and to my upmost horror he quickly stuffed my head inside with the terrifying efficiency of a ravenous beast. The slimy muscle of his tongue lapped against my face and my body convulsed in disgust as I desperately fought not to be sick. Revolting as my situation was, I did not wish to add my own vomit to the mix, even if it might have disgusted the fiend enough to free me. 

I could see nothing but darkness, each desperate gasp for oxygen only supplying me with the barest sliver of foul air. Teeth ringed my neck like a terrible collar, and for a moment I entertained ideas of those teeth, the very same I had picked and sorted by hand, crashing together to sever my head from my body like some terrible executioner. Before my thoughts could spiral much more in this direction, his grip changed and I was suddenly shoved against the slick, fleshy opening of his throat. My blood curdled and, with a sudden, crushing pressure, my head was crammed downwards in the most painful manner which caused me to cry out in despair. My skull felt as though it would shatter, and I screamed a horrible, terrible shriek of agony and terror as my shoulders were crushed down after me, the tight gullet of the beast threatening to break them into splinters. My vision swam, stars of pain and lack of breath sparking and dancing before my eyes, and though no light followed me into my hellish prison, I could still see the blackest pitch wavering at the edge of my vision, threatening to drown me in its inky embrace. For a moment I wished it would, if only to keep me from the terrible suffering I knew lay before me, but fate is a cruel mistress and before I could sink into that comforting ocean of darkness a terrible pressure bloomed upon the crown of my head and forced me into an open pocket of stinking, putrid air. 

Coughing and gaging I struggled to draw even a single breath. My ribs, now horribly compressed, creaked and shuttered terribly under the pressure of the creature’s throat, and though my legs still flailed outside, and my hands desperately scrambled for a hold on what I felt to be his chin, I did not dare move the length of my compressed torso for fear of inflicting more damage upon myself. Another painful swallow jolted me down, my face jamming roughly into what I presumed to be the bottom of the creature’s dreadful stomach, and the grotesque flesh not only yielded to accept my presence, but did so with an almost pleased sounding groan, if stomachs can be pleased, as if I really were simply a morsel of food to be consumed and forgotten. The sound filled my heart with a terror I’ve never known, and I cried out, though my voice was quickly silenced by the slick flesh as more of my body was squeezed through that terrifically tight ring of muscle and forced to bend and twist to fit my new prison like some sort of contortionist. 

I know not how long it took the devil to consume me: the darkness of my surroundings and constant pain dulled my senses and left me disoriented to the point where I no longer could even tell up from down. I remember no longer feeling the cold air on my body after some time, my entire being now encased in sweltering heat, and searing pain as my legs were crushed down against my ribs. Finally, it was all over. My entire body had been fully compacted into the creature’s stomach, and although this new development was arguably a much worse position than my previous one, I was far too preoccupied with gulping down precious lungfuls of oxygen to care.

Then, all at once, the reality of my situation came crashing down upon me and with the fervor of a cornered beast I began to lash out and fight, twisting and turning in the confined space in hopes of causing my captor at least the slightest bit of discomfort. 

“Fiend! Devil! Release me at once!” I panted, gnashing my teeth in fear and anger. “This is no way to treat any man, let alone your maker!”

I had no doubt that he could hear my cries and feel my struggles, confined as I was, and yet no answer came. Despite the nature of my location, I was completely and utterly alone, for what man pays attention to his food after he’s eaten it. Again, I tried to call out, to plead for release as I fought against the smothering flesh, and again I was ignored, save for a light pressure against my back from which I hastily jerked away. It was his hand; I knew it instinctively. The brute was no doubt relaxing after so fine a feast of human flesh, and that touch was nothing more then the satisfied gloating of a predator now sated with a filling meal that would last him far longer than any morsel of bread or wine. I was merely something to be enjoyed, digested, and forgotten.

 How many more, I wondered, would be lost in the same way once I had perished. Clearly my current location indicated my captor had grown fond of the taste of human, and with a heart wrenching shudder I suddenly realized I had no way of knowing wether I was the first victim of the monster’s appetite, or if he had already glutted himself with other gentle country folk, just as he had done to me, and I was now resting in their grave. The thought was too much for my already distraught and troubled soul, and the disgust which filled me suddenly became too overwhelming to sustain. With a thick heave I proceeded to retch onto myself, my sick mixing with the beast’s own bile, and I sobbed bitterly for my home. 

“Oh, my dear mountains and precious lake. Will I truly never again delight in your sweet air and radiant beauty? Am I to perish so far from all that is fair and wholesome, without even the cold stars to bare witness to my demise?” I lamented; my voice thick with the grief of a man who believes he is to die isolated from everything he once held dear. 

The spongy flesh seemed to mute my voice effectively as a heavy curtain might, and my words fell upon deaf ears, for no reply came from my creation. My captor. My killer. Was I really to meet my end as nothing more than a meal? My last breath tainted by the stench of bile and vomit? The pressure to my back returned, and although the touch revolted me, I was far too exhausted from my fear and the quickly thinning oxygen to do more than twitch in protest. What difference would it make anyways, my fate was already sealed.

Each breath I drew grew more ragged and gasping with every passing second, my panic having done nothing but quickly use up what little air I had in the stale cell, and in some fever, I realized that, although my air was quickly thinning, I had not yet begun to feel the slightest tingle of digestion. Oh, what sweet twist of fate was this! I still would meet my end as nothing more than a morsel of food this was true, but I would be long since unconscious and perhaps even suffocated before acids truly began to work on me and thus spared the sensation of digesting alive. It was a small assurance, but so consumed was I by grief and terror of my fate that even the small mercy of a painless death brought me comfort. It was more than a man like me deserved after all I’d done. The innocent blood on the creature’s hands stained mine as well, and I thought bitterly of poor darling little William and dear Justine. Their blood has been spilt on my account, and yet, while their deaths had been horrific tragedies, I took solace in knowing they had left the world far quicker than I would, and that I would be seeing them again soon.

My vision swam before me, and with one last shuddering sigh I slumped against the slick walls, no longer attempting to catch my breath, for what would be the point in trying to breathe when there is no air left to fill my lungs. The stomach clenched around me with a disgusting squelch, smothering and squeezing my helpless form as it worked to knead what I presumed to be caustic acids into my sodden clothing and soft flesh, preparing for the undoubtably difficult task of liquifying my un-masticated body. With a gasping, barely audible sob I pressed a trembling hand out against my churning prison walls, cursing my creation and praying my end would be swift. Then the darkness engulfed me, and I knew no more.

Due to the circumstances in which I had fallen unconscious I fully expected to never wake again, so when I started awake some unknown amount of time later in the very bed I had been snatched out of, I could seldom comprehend what was happening. My first thought was that my horrendous experience had been naut but a dream; an apparition brought upon me by the dreadful task I knew I would soon be required to complete. Then I became aware of the disgusting film of sticky, foul smelling sick coating my body and the dull, yet throbbing pain in my ribs, and my blood ran cold. It had been no dream. My creation truly had assaulted me in the night, swallowed me whole and alive, and, by some miracle, vomited me back out before his digestive system could process me. In fact, aside from my ribs, which were badly bruised, I appeared whole and unharmed. Not even a drop of acid had singed my clothes, and my skin was fair and unblemished as it had always been. I pressed a hand to my cheek as if to make certain of my unharmed state, and then, to my own surprise, I began to laugh. It was not a mirthful laugh, but rather one of incredulous shock and relief as I grasped at my warm and unharmed skin. So certain had I been that those final moments filled with slimy blackness and foul reeking air inside the creature would be my last that the cold air of my room and the sting of my nails against my face might well have been gifts from Heaven itself. Even now I marvel at my incredible escape and wonder what could possibly have prompted the monster to give up as filling a meal as I surely must have been. I do not think I shall ever know, but judging from the healthy nature which I possessed upon waking, I can only assume he realized he could not process me as he intended and his body expelled me, though wether such an expulsion was voluntary on his part I still could not say. Nonetheless I knew I was no doubt incredibly fortunate to have survived such an encounter and my resolve had the been strengthened. Where before I had postponed my promise, I vowed to not do so again, for who knew how long the wretched beast would be content to wait and leave me and others be. As soon as I was able, I would set to work creating another who would contain his terrible urges and put this dreadful encounter behind me forever. 

#Alternate title: Victor Frankenstein and the terrible horrible no good very bad day #My man is going though it <3 #soft vore #safe vore #fandom vore #Half size vore #Unwilling vore #Cj writes #Tw mentions of death #vomit tw #Tw vomit #tw minor injury #classic lit vore #nsx vore #I have lots of thoughts on creature pov here #Do not take what Victor says seriously he is. An unreliable narrator #Just like in cannon lol #digestion mention #fatal mention #Doesn’t happen tho

[kakushigotofanclub]

Sneak peak from a WIP about Obanai living with the Rengokus after being rescued as a kid (in this scene, he's 12 and Senjuro is 5):

“Why are you crying?” Obanai spat, but there was no real venom behind his words. “B-because you are,” Senjuro explained tearfully. “That’s stupid!” “Uh-uh, it’s not,” Senjuro shook his head. “Nii-chan said that I have something that makes me feel other people’s feelings. It’s called empathy.”

What? What did he mean he was feeling other people’s feelings? That sounded like an invasion of privacy and Obanai did not like it. “Well, stop it,” he told him. “I can’t,” Senjuro sniffed. “What do you mean you can’t?” Obanai crossed his arms. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s not like you feel everybody else’s feelings and your own at the same time all the time.” “Yeah I do,” Senjuro said. Obanai blinked. “Really?” “Uh-huh.” “…oh.” That…sounded very overwhelming. No wonder Senjuro was so sensitive. Obanai relaxed slightly. He was silent for a moment. “What…what am I feeling right now, then?” Senjuro pulled his knees to his chest and looked out the window. Then, so quietly Obanai could barely hear him, he said, “You’re very lonely.” For some reason that was all it took for Obanai to start crying all over again. Tears slipped down his face as he stared at Senjuro with wide eyes for a moment. He barely made a sound as his chest began to heave. “Can I hug you now?” said Senjuro. Obanai swallowed thickly. He thought about it for a moment, and then whispered, "Okay."

#super empathic senjuro my beloved #idk how long it's gonna take me to finish this one #i was thinking it was only gonna be like 3k but i'm pushing 5k and it's nowhere near done #might need to split it up into multiple chapters #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #obanai iguro #iguro obanai #rengoku senjuro #senjuro rengoku #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #cj writes

[cljordan-imperium]

Over the next 24 hours you're going to see the last chapters of everything I've written. Why? Because I hope to be posting the next chapter of all of that. PLUS...chapters within @theimperiumchronicles, @sehnsuchtrising, Battleground of Dreams, and While You Wait. Am I insane? Quite possibly. I have wondered myself a few times, and if I could convince the local mental hospital to admit me for a week or so, I would sooooo do it. I could use a vaca.

BUT...until that happens, I will be tippy typing away now that my brain is not being squished by a massive storm and my meds have got my neuropathy to behave. As well as there are no emergencies w/i my family or friends. Blessed be to the universe for this gift. Jasper is also wanting to take Eva (@evita-shelby) on a tour of Imperium, so I have a feeling that is not too far in the distance. *sighs and wonders how Abriella keeps from dusting him*

So, bring on the caffeine and the hand massages..and AWAY WE GO!!

@blind-the-winds @saltysupercomputer @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @korblez @toribookworm22 @aziz-reads @dreaminggoblin @spookyceph

#CJ writes #From the Author Goddess #writeblr

[finnicksghost]

i haven’t written anything for so long but i have started working on this “i’ll love you in every universe” trope for harvey x my farmer (actually inspired by everything everywhere all at once lmfao) last year and it’s like 10,000+ words now, i still haven’t quite polished it. but here’s one of my favorite parts

all my WIPs are just google drive weeds now 🤡🥲

#cj starts writing again and gets lost by how overwhelming 10 #000 words become #sdv #harvey #sdv harvey #harvey sdv #stardew valley #harvey stardew valley #harvey x farmer #cj writes #stfu cj

[callmewisteria]

writing Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys investigating Covenant for the Brotherhood is almost too fun

#scribe haylen #knight rhys #the brotherhood of steel fallout 4 #brotherhood of steel #bos fallout #fo4 shit #fo4 stuff #fo4 fandom #fo4 fic #fo4 fanfic #fo4 fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fandom #fallout 4 fic #fallout 4 fanfic #fallout 4 fanfiction #at the precipice of something new #cj writes

[matchingbatbites]

praline sweet

Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3

This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3

CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts

The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-

“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”

Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?

“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”

“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”

That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point. 

So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-

And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend. 

“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.

Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go. 

The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie. 

Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.

He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep. 

Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”

The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”

Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.

“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.

“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”

Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens. 

With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.

“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”

His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha. 

Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-

He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same? 

For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.

“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”

Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”

Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.

“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”

“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”

And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.

Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts. 

“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”

“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”

Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”

Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”

The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.

“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.

It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.

“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”

Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.

Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.

#cj i hope you like this!! #we've talked before about pre-heat fluff and i just wanted to give you some of that #i did try to make it spicy but they were not cooperating 😔 #so fluff it is #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes #omegaverse

[rosesofenvy]

Golden Future AU Arc 2 ‘Keep You Safe’ Chapter 3 is up now!

Collab with @sha-biest - exclusive art in the fic!

Check out the #goldenfutureau tag for more content and be sure to check out the other chapters/fics!

#rottmnt #rottmntfanfic #goldenfutureau #goldenfuture #sbrecollab #envy writes #it’s getting serious #I cackled writing the summary #AND SHAS ART!!!! IM SCREAMING STILL OVER IT #enjoy the scruffy CJ

[puppy-steve]

having thoughts about modern kroger cashier eddie who has a 70 year old work wife named dora. they talk shit about customers all day.

eddie looks over one day and lets out the most scandalized scream, clutching his chest with one hand and reaching out longingly with the other. steve (his fiance) is talking to his dora. "dora!" eddie screeches, dramatically dropping to his knees and crawling over to them. steve looks down at him with a grin that barely hides his amusement. dora just raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "dora!" eddie gasps again as he stands and clutches the old lady's arm. "please say it isn't so! tell me you're not cheating on me with this...this...harlot!"

steve frowns and lightly kicks eddie in the shin. "hey. i brought you your lunch, asshole."

eddie's whole demeaner changes and his face lights up. he dances over to steve to press a kiss to his cheek. "my knight in shining armor, what would i ever do without you? thank you, baby."

#cj talks #steddie #cj writes

[scoops-stevie-archive]

@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!

"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"

Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"

Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."

Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.

"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."

"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.

(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)

Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.

Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."

Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.

Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.

The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."

Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."

Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.

"Steve."

Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.

"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."

The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"

"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."

"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"

"Steve."

Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.

xxxxxxxx

Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.

God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.

After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.

He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.

Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.

Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.

"Da-dee!"

Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.

"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"

"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."

Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.

He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.

"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"

A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.

"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"

Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."

Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.

"Da! Da!"

Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.

Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.

"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.

Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.

Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.

Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.

"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.

Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.

When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #cj talks #cj writes

[thefanciestborrower]

Nightmare Cure

A short and sweet little drabble featuring my favorite lego duo Jay and Cole engaging in some vorish shenanigans

Written for vore day 2023 :]

Contains soft, safe vore and some goofy banter

     Jay groaned, turning to flop on his back and stare at the slats supporting the bunk above his for what felt like the hundredth time. He’d thought sleeping would have gotten easier now that it had been so long since everything had happened, and truthfully, he supposed being able to close his eyes for any length of time without being assaulted by nightmares was technically an improvement, but he just couldn’t seem to fall properly asleep no matter what he did. Every time he started to finally reach that deep, restful part of sleep the nightmares would start. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest in... gosh...weeks? Months maybe? Visions of restless nights spent in a splintering box, endless games played just to watch him suffer, Nya lying still as death in his arms, a vicious hook digging into... Jay winced, rubbing his eye to rid himself of the phantom pain and bloody memory. If it could even be called a memory at this point since, technically speaking, none of that had ever happened in the first place. 

     He huffed, grabbing his pillow and smothering his face with it. Maybe if he passed out that would count as sleeping and he’d finally get some rest. After about five minutes of trying and failing to suffocate himself with his pillow Jay threw it aside and went back to staring at the slats above him, listening to the quiet snores of his brothers. It wasn’t fair! Sure he knew they had no memory of the event so he couldn’t fault them for sleeping so soundly, but it still felt like a slight. Heck, as far as he knew even Nya was having an easier time than he was, and she remembered everything! If only he could just close his eyes for more than two seconds and still feel safe! He just wanted to rest without feeling like Nadakan would reappear to snatch him away. But the Bounty wasn’t secure anymore. Nowhere was. Nowhere, except… Well it couldn’t hurt to ask right? Steeling himself against the cold he slipped out of bed and padded over to Cole’s bed, careful not to wake the others. Gosh, the last thing he wanted was to be caught asking for this.

     Jay hesitated for a moment, shuffling from foot to foot on the cold wooden floor as he stared at the form of his sleeping friend. He knew Cole wouldn’t mind, he never did, but the request still felt selfish and awkward in his mind. Like he was taking advantage of his friend or something. It was a stupid thought, and he shook his head to clear it. He did this all the time during the day so it should be no different at night right? Right. Steeling himself, Jay reached out to shake the earth ninja awake.

     “Cole.” Jay hissed, prodding his friend in the shoulder. Nothing. Cole barely shifted in his sleep, much to Jay’s irritation. “Cole!” He tried again, jabbing a little harder this time. “Come on boulder brain, wake up.”

     Cole always had been the soundest sleeper of all his brothers, so Jay was unsurprised that his efforts had yet to do anything other than make Cole groan in his sleep, but it was still a little frustrating. Well, if Cole wouldn’t wake up, he could at least opt for his plan B. Sure sleeping next to Cole wouldn’t be as nice as sleeping in him, but it would still be much better than his own bed and he had done it before anyways. Jay hated to admit all that five in the morning Wu loves subjecting them all to was really paying off as he crept under Cole’s blanket, silent and undetected. None of their beds were all that big, just barely enough to fit one person really, but Jay was quite a bit smaller than the average person. A fact which normally aggravated him, but always seemed to come in handy for midnight escapades like this one. It only took a minute for him to get settled against Cole’s chest, finally feeling safe. He sighed as he snuggled down and briefly glanced up at his friend’s face, only to go stiff. Cole’s eyes were open and staring down at him in thinly veiled amusement. Jay went crimson. 

     “Oh, so now you wake up.” He huffed, scooting away from Cole in the limited space he had on the small bed and shooting him an offended glare. He wasn’t actually mad, just embarrassed he’d been caught. Embarrassment that was only made worse as Cole proceeded to laugh at him. Laugh! Well fine then, he didn’t want Cole’s help anyways! Jay rolled over and sat up, resigned to spending another restless night in his own fighting off nightmares, when Cole stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.  

     “Jay wait,” Cole said, his voice soft, if tinged with amusement. “You don’t have to leave; you know I don’t mind sharing.”

     Jay turned to glare at Cole, though the sharp expression softened once he saw the sincerity in his friend’s eyes. Still, he made no move to lay back down. “No no it’s fine I just uh…got a little cold is all but I’m all good now! See? Just gonna head back to my own bed now don’t mind me.” Despite the confident swagger Jay was always carful to layer into his voice his words still shook and stuck in his throat, and he knew Cole would be able to tell so it was best to leave before-

     Cole’s hand grabbed his where it still rested on the bed and Jay froze. “If you’re really that cold, you’re more than welcome to stay zaptrap.”

     Jay blinked. Cole knew he was lying, the way he annunciated ‘cold’ made that clear as day, and yet, he had made no effort to pry into his reasons for doing so. Usually Cole was the first one to poke holes in his lies so the fact that he was going along with things just this once felt…nice. He didn’t want to talk, and Cole knew that, so he’d tried to lighten the mood with a playful insult, and it worked. Jay cracked a characteristically crooked smile and rolled his eyes, trying so hard to appear nonchalant when he was really very grateful.

     “Fine fine I’ll stay, but only if I get to pick where I sleep.”  Jay quipped back. “I’m feeling a little like getting my own private room tonight.” He jabbed softly at Cole’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up in the night and had the great pleasure of seeing his friend’s face turn pink, though his undoubtably looked the same if the burning in his ears was any indication. 

     “Well someone’s feeling demanding.” Cole snorted, sitting up and stretching with a yawn—not that Jay noticed the yawn since he was very pointedly looking anywhere but Cole’s mouth—before reaching around the lightning ninja to grab a single leaf from the bonsai situated neatly on his nightstand. Jay felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. He took the leaf from Cole without hesitation and crunched it between his teeth, shuddering at the bitter and overly herbal taste. Sure they’d usually brew the leaves into a proper tea before doing anything like this, but it would still work regardless, and Jay didn’t have the patience to brew a cup of tea right now anyways. The effect was instant. One second the bed was feeling rather cramped with the two ninjas on it, and the next, it looked as though Jay had disappeared. 

     Of course, he hadn’t really disappeared, and Jay couldn’t hold back a little yelp as Cole reached down to pick him up off the mattress, holding him in hands nearly as large as he was. With as often as they used this tea, you’d really think he’d be used to being picked up by now, but the feeling of vertigo never really went away. Still, he was anything but scared as Cole lifted him to his face.

     “Well look at that! And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any shorter.” Cole laughed, poking Jay in the chest with a finger that was promptly swatted away. 

     “Oh ha ha, you’re a real comedian bolder brain.” Jay shot back without missing a beat. “How long did it take you to come up with that one, a whole five seconds?”

     “Six actually!”

     Jay sighed, rolling his eyes as Cole grinned at him. Why he’d chosen such an annoying best friend was beyond him, but then again you don’t really choose best friends do you. They kinda just show up and you end up stuck with them whether you like it or not. For what it was worth, Jay really was rather fond of Cole. He’d rather die than admit that of course, but it was true. 

     Realizing Cole hadn’t moved in a few seconds and was just sort of staring at him, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He leaned forwards, planting his hands on Cole’s bottom lip. “Alright are you just gonna keep looking or am I actually going to get the room I requested.” The night air wasn’t cold, but it was chilly and in the wake of his unsettling dreams the air felt icy to Jay.

     Cole didn’t even bother trying to respond. The moment Jay seemed to be leaning his full weight on his lip Cole opened his mouth and nudged him forward, sending the lightning ninja tumbling in with a shriek and landing face first on his tongue. Jay spluttered indignantly. The change in temperature was incredible compared to the cold still encasing his hips and legs, and the tongue under him so soft and yielding he might have fallen asleep instantly had he not been so mad. However Jay was more than used to those things and they could stand to be ignored in favor of yelling at his best friend for shoving him face first into a puddle of spit. 

     “Gross Cole!” Jay whined, propping himself up on his elbows while his legs flailed outside. “You could have warned me first!” Yes, he had asked for this, but he still liked being difficult to get down on principle. Not that Cole ever seemed to choke around him the way Kai or Lloyd would, and Zane didn’t count because he didn’t have a gag reflex, but still. Course, he always went down easy for Nya, but that was because she was the love of his life and therefor shouldn’t count either. Cole, unrepentant for his actions, responded to Jay’s protests by promptly licking him full up the torso, dousing him instantly in buckets of saliva. Jay spluttered but knew better than to open his mouth now.

     Never one to play with his food for long, Cole quickly slurped Jay’s legs up while simultaneously starting to swallow his torso, a sensation Jay really would never get used to. Being swallowed felt a lot like being squeezed out of a toothpaste tube, if a toothpaste tube was alive and warm and full of slime that is. His legs quickly followed the rest of him down Cole’s throat, and as a series of soft swallows pushed him deeper, he couldn’t help but relax completely. Somehow Cole just felt so…safe. Safer than the bounty ever had, and somehow even safer than the rest of his brothers. Sure he loved them all with his whole heart, but Cole was like a living fortress. An immovable mountain of earth and muscle with the softest heart who could protect them all against anything. 

    After one final swallow Jay slipped down into Cole’s stomach, surprised to find it was nearly empty. When it came to Cole his stomach almost always was full of something, but as Jay stretched and made himself comfortable, he decided it was the middle of the night and dinner didn’t tend to stick around as long as he did. Flopped over in a shallow puddle of chyme Jay felt himself fading fast, his lack of sleep finally catching up with him as Cole’s stomach kneaded and churned around him. One of the walls suddenly pushed in more than the others and Jay found himself momentarily pinned as Cole felt around for him. Not that he minded, he rather enjoyed being squished. 

     “Comfy in there sparky?”

     “Yeah, thanks dirtclod.” Jay yawned, burying his face in the walls as he drifted off to sleep. “Wake me before everyone else so I can dry off alright? I don’t want Wu to yell at me for leaving puddles in the hall again.” 

     Cole laughed, his soft voice buzzing through the walls. “No promises bluebird. Just get some sleep alright? I’ll see you in the morning.”

#happy vore day everyone take some besties being silly! #they are both so precious to me #the fact that I finished this today is a miracle #no beta we die like men #soft vore #safe vore #vore writing #vore fic #My writing #Cj writes #fandom vore #n.injago vore #g/t vore #Jay is very good at pretending he doesn’t want something when he very much does lmao #what a goof I’ve never related to any character harder in my life #This is probably so ooc but I don’t care it’s cute

[kakushigotofanclub]

Scene from that fic I’m writing about Obanai living with the Rengokus after being rescued

(Here, Obanai is twelve, Kyojuro is eleven, and Senjuro is five.)

“Why do you say that after every single bite?” Obanai asked, somewhat irritably. “Because every bite is tasty!” said Kyojuro. “But also because it makes Senjuro laugh.” He shoved another bite into his mouth and barely chewed it before swallowing. “Umai!”

Obanai thought the joke wore itself out pretty quickly but Senjuro thought it was funny every single time Kyojuro did it. Senjuro dropped his chopsticks as he started giggling again, which only encouraged Kyojuro even more. “Umai!” He yelled again. “Your brother is never actually going to eat anything if you keep making him laugh like that,” Obanai pointed out. “Oh! I’m sorry! You’re right,” Kyojuro gasped. “Okay. I’ll be quiet now.” That was not going to happen, Obanai knew. Sure enough, they lapsed into silence for a few moments until Kyojuro whispered, “Umai.” Senjuro laughed so hard he fell out of his seat, which made Kyojuro start laughing too. Obanai did not think it was funny, he thought it was annoying. …Okay, well…it was a little funny. He pursed his lips in an attempt to keep himself from smiling, but when that failed, he found smiling didn’t pull at his scars the way it used to. Despite his bandages already covering his mouth, he put a hand over it as well as if that would hide the fact that he was beginning to giggle. He couldn’t help it; Kyojuro’s laugh was infectious. “Ha!” Kyojuro declared, pumping both fists in the air in triumph. “I did it! I finally made you laugh!” This didn’t annoy Obanai as much as he expected it to.

#one of the rare instances where i intended to write fluff and actually wrote fluff (instead of making it angsty) #the actual reason why 11 y/o kyojuro says umai after every single bite is because he remembers his dad used to before his mom died #(but also because it makes senjuro laugh) #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fic #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #cj writes

[cljordan-imperium]

Since I'm being threatened w/mutiny, these 4 are here to stay...although I do have some side characters I can drop kick w/names and backstories if anyone wants....

WHILE YOU WAIT

Miriana goes from crossing a street to being in a forest, which she later discovers is the landing pad of Hell. The only problem is that there was a routing problem in the afterlife and she's not supposed to be there. Djall, Lord of the Underworld, goes to retrieve her until he can get her out of his Kingdom. Unfortunately that is easier said than done now she's been in Hell. He sets her up with a place to stay while he's trying to negotiate her travel upward, but keeping her safe may be harder than he'd anticipated.

BATTLEGROUND OF DREAMS

Morpheus is an immortal assassin of nightmares. So far he has been able to avoid having a partner. With increasing nightmares attacking dreamers around the globe, the Dream Gods have decided that solo assassins shall no longer be allowed. After a brutal and bloody battle that raged over a major city, Morpheus is told to expect his new partner and this time he has no choice. It's nothing personal against Melinoe, but he is going to try to convince her that she really doesn't want to work with her, but the Dream Gods weren't just born yesterday and he has no idea what he's in for.

@blind-the-winds @saltysupercomputer @aziz-reads @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @toribookworm22 @late-to-the-fandom @outpost51 @spookyceph @thebejeweledwatercat @dreaminggoblin

#CJ writes #they just show up #2 new wips #FOURTEEN OF THEM #I need a padded room #and neuropathy to fuck off

[fuctacles]

A tale as old as time

For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie | Ao3

"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.

He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.

He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.

1986.

Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 

He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 

It was gross. And in a way, alluring.

Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.

He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 

He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.

Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream

Shar: Definitely like mine

Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 

PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?

PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?

Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend

Shar: Wait no

Shar: NOT LIKE THAT

Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way

Eddie snorts.

You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.

He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.

Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 

Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 

Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.

A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 

Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.

Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.

But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?

PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.

He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.

Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.

That's not what Eddie expected at all. 

PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes

Shar: Me too

They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 

How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 

The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.

Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already

So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.

Shar: Okay, fine

Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 

Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already

Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?

Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.

PuppetOfMasters: Yes 

Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up

PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me

Shar: Insufferable

Shar: Menace

Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?

Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.

PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy

Shar: An old guy, you mean

Shar: You'd make a video with me?

PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes

Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then

PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer

Shar: ... There aren't any?

PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin

Shar: shit

Shar: fuck

Shar: that's so hot

Shar: you'd let me?

PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably

Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 

Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.

PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.

But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.

PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary

PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin

Shar: I fucking hope so

----

It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.

Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 

Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.

Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.

He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 

The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.

Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 

PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo

PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 

PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?

He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 

He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 

Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me

Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.

no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.

Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 

PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye

Shar: I'll let her know

Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up

Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.

PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day

Shar: So you were serious?

Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 

PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics

Shar: I knew holding back would pay off

Eddie snorts at his phone. 

Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with

Shar: Right. Of course

Shar: So how would that work?

Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.

PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.

Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.

It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.

Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me

Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?

PuppetOfMasters: Precisely

Shar: Holy shit okay

Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved

Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.

Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it

Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.

PuppetOfMasters: Simp

Shar: I am what I am

Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need

PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic

Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway

Shar: If that's okay

PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah

Eddie hesitates for a moment.

PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?

Fuck no, comes the immediate response

Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 

PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl

Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one

PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.

Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.

PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck

Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 

For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.

Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?

PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?

Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans

PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 

Shar: Sounds reasonable

Shar:When would you want to do this?

When?

Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 

I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.

Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me

Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 

Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.

Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?

His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 

PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?

Shar: Yeah?

PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.

Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.

"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.

"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 

It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 

"Well?" the guy asks.

"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 

"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"

Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 

"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.

Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.

"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."

Steve nods, his expression growing serious.

"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."

"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.

On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 

"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"

Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 

#subeddieweek #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #cj x subeddieweek #mine #steddie #cw: age gap #camboy au #modern au #transmasc eddie munson #this story got away from me as soon as it started #i just wanted to write some online domming but no #some mmmm older guy touching me???? kinda hot #b u t NO

[finnicksghost]

i know i have a pile of write-ups on my sleeve right now but i simply couldn’t resist contributing to the sdv community. i think one of the best things about it simply just the idea of allowing happiness to seep through for once.

i’m kind of looking forward to finish this but i want to share it here because we need more harvey fics.

“I was thinking of dying. I always think about dying.” he starts quietly,  “but I think with you,” There’s a short pause as he finds the words.

She leans against his side, eyes patient as he tries to voice out the cobwebs inside him.

“I think with you, everything sad inside me dies.”

“I thought Elliot was the poet,” she says fondly, nose scrunching up in delight. 

She smiles softly back at him, kissing his nose, his eyelids, and the corner of his lips. Sometimes when words fail her, she would just start kissing him. He can never get enough of it. Soft, careful ones after sex, hurried chaste kisses as she helps him adjust his tie for the day, small kisses on the cheek on the afternoons he’s out reading in their small garden, slow welcoming kisses after a very long day. 

‘Maybe’, he thinks about this when she kisses his jaw and holds him very tightly as a sigh of contentment escapes her mouth, ‘maybe he does deserve a lifetime of kisses despite everything.’

#so i was literally listening to an anais mitchell song and it was so specific i cried #man i truly am a sucker for characters discovering they are loved so much #i think harvey is a character who literally deserves to be kissed all the time #im intensely aware this is how i feel about finnick odair 6 years ago too #stardew valley #sdv #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #cj writes #harvey #but also every love song matt berninger sings is so.......................harvey-coded actually