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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)

This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.

minors DNI

“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”

“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.

“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed.

“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”

“The very one!”

“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.

“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.

“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk.

“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”

“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”

“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.

“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.

Alastor turned his head slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”

He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.

“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.

Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?

“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”

“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since…

You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“

“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”

Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.

As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.

“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt you?”

Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness.

“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”

She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”

“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door.

“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”

A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”

“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.

“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.

“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.

It felt binding.

When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you.

You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.

Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.

“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.

You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself, “In perpetuity, mon cher.”

You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure.

No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town.

You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.

Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance?

Probably a gerbil, or a toaster.

You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?

It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—

Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.

At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.

But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck.

You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck.

The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.

And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.

When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”

Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin.

You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake.

The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.

Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity.

You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams.

You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.

Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of less intense dreams.

Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories.

Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.

It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.

After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room.

You chalked it up to escapism.

Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.

(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer.

You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”

“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”

“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.

“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”

You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”

He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted.

“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.

You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.

You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone.

“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.

He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.

“What?” He averted his gaze.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”

He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”

You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.

Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.

When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.

You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy.

You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.

He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him.

As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”

“Fuck you.”

He fired.

Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving.

A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.

“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”

(Part three)

༻Masterlist༺

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tyrantisterror · 1 year

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David Attenborough: And here we have the father lion with his newfound cub. This male has sired many young with his pride, but only this season has he produced a male. He will teach the young lion all he knows, before it grows up to make a pride of his own. Right now the father shows his cub the extent of their territory, an important fact for any lion to learn. -later- David Attenborough: It is highly unusual for two male lions to share a territory, but the bond between these two is strong. Though leaner and bearing more scars than his stronger brother, the second male has an important role to play, patrolling the outer bounds of their shared territory. -later- David Attenborough: The mutually beneficial relationship between hornbills and lions is not extensively documented, and in fact this documentary is the first evidence of such a relationship ever recorded. It is, however, not unheard of for a clever bird to ally with packhunting mammals, as crows will do the same with wolves a continent over. -later- David Attenborough: The scarred male lion may have bitten off more than it can chew, having stumbled into a truly enormous pack of hyenas. Extraordinarily large, in fact, there may well be more than a hundred individuals in this family group. The hyenas, however, show... deference? to the lion, and ... are... are they goose-stepping? Well, it would appear they are acting out a choreographed homage to the film-making of Leni Riefenstahl, and all at the apparent command of one of their natural competitors. Fascinating. -later- David Attenborough: As the male lion clings to dear life, who arrives but his brother, the loyal second in command of the pride. Surely a boon for our new fath- oh. Oh, that looked almost calculated. But we must remember that such cruelty is only practiced by men, and that lions probably aren't very skilled at helping each other climb up cliffs, given their lack of thumbs. -later- David Attenborough: Orphaned and separated from his pack, the young male lion is likely due to die. But what's this? A warthog in a mutually beneficial symbiosis with a meercat has adopted the cub. Strange, yes, but perhaps this warthog is acting on misplaced affection, as animals that have lost young of their own may sometimes adopt children of other species. This warthog may have been a young moth- oh, no, that's a dick and balls. Well... huh. -later- David Attenborough: Somehow, despite subsisting entirely on insects for years, our young cub has managed to grow into a fully healthy male lion. We can only attribute this success to a mixture of luck and determination. -later- David Attenborough: Now we see the courtship dance of the lions. Notice how... holy shit, that lioness is giving him bedroom eyes. Wait, what's that music? Is... is that Elton John? -later- David Attenborough: As the young lion survives is encounter with the wild mandrill, it takes a moment to reflect by... hold on... hold on, in the sky, is that... is that a fucking ghost? Is that a lion ghost? What the fuck is going on in this savannah?

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hungwy · 4 months

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The Frenchman wore an ugly button up shirt with a cheeseburger pattern battering every inch of fabric. "The cheeseburger is the food of Americans", he explained, "and Americans are vain." The associations between Americans and vanity and Americans and cheeseburgers were so strong he could not help but circuitously assume cheeseburgers were also some product of extravagant New World psychological masturbation, rather than a meal of somewhat pitiful necessity, or worse, a product as European in origins as he was, and even here he could not escape the disinterested rabble of the burgs and becs at home. Here the Frenchman was a strange, grumbling, conceited man rummaging through a cold pile of hash browns in a rickety diner in a forgotten plain of middle America, once again among the poor and old and settled. Meanwhile the burger had spread from far more innovative immigrants than he to all corners of the lands through its satisfaction of need and easy digestion. It was pitiful that such a soul, in trying to keep inflated that buoyant pride which gave him life in this sea of corn and depression, unable to avoid his failure in the arts overseas, felt the need to invent and then attack strange symbols and ideologies through highly unusual means, such as ironically wearing a cheeseburger shirt. In a way, he had brought a sort of avant-garde to the old town, just as misunderstood here as it would've been anywhere else, for not only was it baseless and stupid, but seemingly mad. He would pretend to be obsessed with burgers--in a way he was--in order to more fully accentuate his hatred for them.

#i nearly fell asleep and began rambling on in my head this passage from the early chapters of a book that doesnt exist

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asimmutableasgravity · 5 months

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big big marvey fic rec list

marvey is currently my most bookmarked ship, so trust me when i say i've been around the bend for marvey content. i have dug through a lot of it the past few months, so trust that these fics have been highly rated!

fics are loosely grouped, with the summary and my thoughts under the cut :3 no spoilers ofc bc i love you

MY PERSONAL FAVOURITES

A Specter-Ross Affair by @frivoloussuits (15k+, au)

“You ordered an ‘extra-hot, extra-wet cappuccino, single-origin, properly layered, to-go and ready five minutes ago to make up for your service speed or lack thereof.’” In which Mike is a barista, Rachel is a lawyer, and Harvey is paid excessive amounts of money to plan their joyous Christmas wedding.

"Love is just a particularly socially accepted form of fraud. It's a series of increasingly complex and fragile deceptions between two or more people, and, more alarmingly, between each participant and their own deluded subconscious."

i literally cannot recommend this fic enough. this might be my favourite read of the entire year, dead serious. this sounds fluffy but trust me, the pining and the angst go well like salt on a chocolate chip cookie: extremely decadent. everything about this fic goes insane and this should be your gateway drug into marvey, im so serious about this. READ IT. (weddingplanner!harvey)

of all the gin joints by @frivoloussuits (10k+, au)

Hanging around a neighborhood bar one night, Harvey befriends a guy named Mike after realizing they can both quote The Princess Bride on demand. In the law offices of Rand, Kaldor, Zane and Pearson, senior partner Harvey Specter takes on an unusual case, representing his managing partner's daughter as she divorces a Michael James Ross. Harvey sees no connection until it's far too late.

"They’re playing a virtuosic duet with inhuman ease, as if the intoxication has broken their boundaries and blurred them into a single entity."

this. obsessed with fics that really use the law in their plots, and this is a prime example. a lot of chemistry in this one that is described in a way that makes you jealous of the bond they share and there are still lines in this fic that i think about almost everyday but honestly, such a top-tier read. PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU LIKE SUFFERING ANF REALLY REALLY GOOD CHEMISTRY PLEASE

5U175 by Closer (26k, canon-adjacent)

Harvey sometimes moonlights as a Star Trek BNF. Mike might have an attitude problem on the internet. TiberiusGhost is strangely compelling, for a recluse who never goes to meetups, and Harvey's finding this kid Photohead vaguely familiar…

i know that the terminology in this one is hella old-school but trust me. as someone who doesnt read a lot of fandom fics, this fic has changed it all for me (also bc the author replied to my comment hehehe) stick with this fic because the way fandom weaves with the character development is absolutely delicious, i remember saying this in my og comment but this fic was written with love for fandom and you should definitely read it too!!! you'd absolutely love it! (also ben stans rise up ^^)

fics to sink your teeth into (20k+)

needs must by @melthemagpie (98k+, au)

When Grammy needs an upgrade in care, Mike knows that the usual one-off gig as a paid submissive won't be enough. He takes a job he's been refusing for a while - a long-term, full-time contract. He expects his client to be a sadistic asshole. He expects not to like it. He's wrong on both counts.

this is a fandom classic, every fic rec has this on the list (cw for dom/sub and prostitution, so if you're uncomfy please dont read) but i swear there are so many romantic moments in this one that make me swoon and the smut is very good, i usually tap out in long fics really quickly but this hooked me the whole way through twice. thats my ringing endorsement, READ THIS

Lobster and Other Catastrophes by @andthetardis (21k, canon-compliant)

After months of silence, Mike starts texting Harvey again out of the blue. Funny thing to do on his honeymoon, really.

BRO PLEASE. this was so good. angsty and pining-y enough even though it's mostly a text fic. text fics to me are more like comedic, but this one had substance and heart (and funny and enjoyable btw). pulls you in and really makes you want to stick it out and get to the beautiful ending <333 (harvey being soft is probably a category on its own :3)

The Game by @frivoloussuits (27k, hunger games au)

Harvey Specter and Donna Paulsen are efficient and elegant killers. They have trained since childhood, mentored personally by Jessica Pearson and marked for years as District 1's Tributes for the Hunger Games. Mike Ross is an orphan from District 12, a drug dealer, and an underage gambler. After years of scrutinizing the Hunger Games on TV to make savvy bets, he finds himself on the wrong side of the camera, now playing the odds just to survive. Harvey and Mike cannot, should not trust each other. Still, they strike a backroom deal.

"Because he’s clever and quick-thinking and he’s learned her main lesson well– don’t love anyone you wouldn’t be willing to see dead. Ideally, don’t love anyone at all."

I READ THIS WHEN I WAS REVISITING HUNGER GAMES AND OHHHHH THIS HAS THE ANGST. absolutely riveting. ths is the third fic im reccing from them bc i love frivoloussuits. i would die for them HHFSHFHKSDGDHFG i love the angst and the life-threatening situations that the hunger games provide and harvey as a career is correct. its just correct. everything here grips my soul

Disaster Stories by agatestones (22k, canon-compliant)

"Hold on," Mike asked, "you made Donna come into work in the middle of a blizzard?" "I don't make Donna do anything. Haven't you learned by now?" Harvey gave Mike a mean little smile, but under that was relief for anyone to see. "You, I can make come into the office in a blizzard."

reads like a novella to me, and it's really good!!! very episodic and you really feel like these are things that have happened in universe. its very slice of lifey and i reread it a lot as a comfort read, its like a big hug to me

Pizza and a Movie by Closer (30k+, au)

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected...

i swear this is the most rom-commy fic marvey has to offer. i like aus that slap me in the face more with the alternate universe, but this is such a rom-com plot. fandom classic as well and it really reads like a hugh grant 90s movie and if thats not enough to pull you in idk what will tbh

Imprimatur by Closer (22k, au)

Mike was raised to believe Imprint was a life-changing event for those few lucky enough to experience it. Harvey was raised to believe it was a form of mental illness. When it actually happened, neither of them noticed.

this goes absolutely crazy. one of those fics where you read it and you almost want to throw your phone at the wall because the characters could make it so easy if they werent so stupid (but in a good way of course) but the way it was written, you feel the depth of the soulmate bond and why its so important (which a lot of soulmate aus forget to do loll) but goes down like an expensive and delicious dinner :)

afternoon reads (10k+)

Sony SRF-39FP by @frivoloussuits (11k+, canon-adjacent)

Anita Gibbs won’t settle for Mike, not when there are name partners within her reach. She offers only one deal– two years, no other charges against anyone else in the firm, as long as Harvey Specter turns himself in. And even as Donna and Jessica and Louis and Mike beg him not to, he jumps on the grenade. “Time to get busy living or get busy dying,” he remarks, and Mike gives a small chuckle. Then Harvey smirks, straightens his suit jacket, and strides into FCI Danbury.

“I can’t believe they’re trying to lock you in a box and forget about you,” Mike sighs as he leaves.

“Well, as long as you don’t forget me, I figure I’ll survive.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but forgetting’s never been my strong suit.

cw for depersonalization and desc of solitary confinement, very very heavy but the way mike is there throughout everything makes my heart twinge. i really dont know how to describe this fic at all but its really good. it makes me cry a lot. also made me start listening to jazz which- uh

Here at the end of all things by @tattooedsiren (10k, au)

When he arrives at the Pearson Hardman building the lights are dimmed and the floor is deserted. His feet carry him to Harvey's office even though he expects it to be empty. Because Harvey probably fled the city via helicopter or teleporter or sheer force of will. But when he approaches the office he can see that Harvey is there. He has moved the couch so that it now faces the floor to ceiling windows and Mike silently sits beside Harvey, joins him in looking down at the chaos engulfing the city below. [Apocalypse AU]

I LOVE APOCALYPSE FICS UP UP UP badass!harvey makes me bark, but im a really big fan of people who find happiness in the worst circumstances and this fic does it so so so well. reminds me a lot of tlou episode like 2? the one with the strawberries. please this is what i revisit when i miss marvey and i dont have a lot of time because the world and the characters are jsut so delicious!!!

quick reads (1k+)

This Love is Silent by kim47 (8k, canon-compliant)

She should have known. She had known, that something was off, at least. She knew he was hiding something. She just never imagined it could be this. Despite Harvey's warnings, Mike tells Rachel the truth about everything. She's shocked, naturally, and more than a little angry, but she agrees to keep his secret, and even to date him. So when they break up, Harvey goes into damage-control mode.

RACHEL!! HELLO RACHEL!! im always up for smart and discerning rachel (this shows up in of all the gin joints too btw!!!) this runs realistic to me because it shows that rachelxmike arent some hopelessly wrong for each other couple, they have good and bad times. this feels more real to me than other fics bc its not like the world conspires for marvey to be apart, its just life. i know this makes it sound so sad, and it is, but trust me: this is really really really good i love this so much

an archive of harvey specter's expressions by @frivoloussuits (2k, canon-compliant)

Five old expressions that Mike rediscovers in new contexts once he and Harvey are (finally) together, and one that he sees for the first time. Alternatively titled “An Ode to Gabriel Macht’s Face.”

this was written for me. this is literally me. writing fic because gabriel macht is too pretty, like this fic is literally for me. a lot of peering at him to get this fic as masterfully written as it is, and i thank you author everyday for it. to me, this reads like it's been written with love and care and true adoration (Truly, like Mike)

Coffee-Cart Client Privilege by @frivoloussuits (7k, au)

Mike runs a coffee cart. The coffee cart.

"Why not? They're too big and dense to be a snack." So are you, Mike thinks, and yet.

IM SORRY I KEEP RECCING FRIVOLOUS SUITS THEYRE MY FAVOURITE WRITER IN THIS FANDOM HFBKABFDKHFBHKDSA this has the hand-wavy logic the show has itself but mike's internal monologue in this one is one of the best ive ever read and the way mike's integrated in the offices is just so well-done ahhhh

Objection by yeah its frivoloussuits again i feel bad tagging them like 7 times (2k, canon-adjacent)

When Mike announces he’s leaving, Harvey plans to hide the jagged pieces of his broken heart deep inside, where no one will ever find them. His heart would like to object.

BIGG fan of physical hurt/comfort!!!! also big fan of people absolutely freaking out in the hospital in fics, it makes me bounce of the wall!! very short but the angst and love really hits you quick and leaves you on the floor gasping for air. very good (also cant prove this but im very sure this is a scrubs reference.t hanks)

Excerpts From The Gospel of Harvey Specter, edited by Michael "Forever Awesome" Ross, 2011, 1st Ed, by @rcmclachlan (7k, canon compliant)

Mike can totally read people. Well, most people. Some people. Or maybe just Harvey, who's pretty much an open book.

this one's really funny! it doesent follow direct prose and instead plays a lot with the setting its in (where mike's a documenter of harvey) and its just so funny and adorable. has a lot of heart too, it isn't just crack or anything but you really feel everything mike does as he writes all this, read this!!1

One More Sleepless Night by @sal_si_puedes (9k, au)

Soul Bonds are one-sided – there’s usually mutual affection, but only one party feels the crippling need to be together as often as possible. If separated at length from their love, that party becomes crushed by longing, panic, and sheer hopelessness, and so it is illegal to forcibly keep Soulmates apart. Some days, Harvey Specter hates the Bond that skews his judgement and weakens his resolve, and he fears what would happen if anyone in his world ever discovers he is so compromised. He certainly never planned to disclose the Bond for the first time in the middle of Anita Gibbs’ office, in a last-ditch attempt to invalidate the deal sending Mike to prison.

HSDGFHSDKGHRLKGHK THIS FIC. i love fics that use more than just prose to tell their stories (see above fic) and this does my favourite thing that soulmate aus do, which is where they integrate in-universe explanations for the phenomenon. the amount of work and dedication put into this fic makes it absolutely sing and was absolutely lovely!!

also pspspsps

golden like the daffodils by @mini-mart (2k, canon-compliant)

Poetry holds meaning, for anyone who reads it. It obscures and dances around the literal and metaphorical, because it’s imbued with so much of something that it overflows out of any definition. It can make someone mad, or lovesick, or aroused, and the reactions would be absolutely warranted. Mike is poetry, to Harvey. - Harvey Specter could be a good politician, as he believes in pragmatism over poetry. He won't let his progress fall apart, won't let someone knock it down. And then someone unceremoniously cracks open a suitcase at his feet. Or: Harvey, pretty boys and poetry.

yeah yeah i wrote this yeah yeah self promo smth smth

there's a lot more that isn't here but i'll probably write a new one when i go for a deep dive through the ship tags again :3

^^ ao3 etiqutte applies! if you like the fic, kudos and comment and bookmark!! show your love! happy reading marveys! my gift to u :3

#marvey #suits tv #suits #mike ross #harvey specter #marvey fic recs #marvey fic #ao3 #fic rec list #fic recs #tbr #fanfiction #103 #GUYS PLEASE READ THIS #mikexharvey

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velvetures · 11 days

Text

Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon <3 #velvetures answers #anon answered #anon ask

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happy74827 · 6 months

Text

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

458 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 12 days

Text

PROMPTS FROM GHOSTBUSTERS (1984) * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary. who ya gonna call?

i want you to concentrate.

you can't see these, can you?

i'm getting a little tired of this!

what are you trying to prove here, anyway?

will you excuse me for a second?

we're close on this one. i can feel it.

you are a legitimate phenomenon.

this is big, [name], this is very big. there is definitely something here.

that would have worked if you hadn't stopped me.

i hope we can clear this up quickly and quietly.

back off, man. i'm a scientist.

listen! do you smell something?

this happened to you before?

could you come over here and talk to me for a second, please?

one of us should actually try to speak to it.

i'm gonna take back some of the things i've said about you.

the possibilities are limitless!

this is preposterous. i demand an explanation.

your methods are sloppy and your conclusions are highly questionable.

you don't know what it's like out there.

for whatever reasons... call it fate, call it luck, call it karma, i believe that everything happens for a reason.

where are we going to get the money?

i think this building should be condemned.

hey, does this pole still work?

wow, this place is great. when can we move in?

you gotta try this pole.

hey, we should stay here tonight! sleep here! you know, try it out!

you wanna come in for a mineral water or something?

are you troubled by strange noises in the night?

have you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter, or ghost?

we're ready to believe you!

you can't park that here!

i bet you like to read a lot, too.

i collect spores, mold, and fungus.

i'd like to talk to someone, please.

what i'm about to say may sound a little unusual.

i'm sorry, i don't believe in any of those things.

if something's gonna happen here, i want it to happen to me first.

you don't act like a scientist.

i'm gonna go for broke. i am madly in love with you.

i bet you're going to be thinking about me after i'm gone.

hey, anybody seen a ghost?

did you ever report it to anyone?

i hope we can take care of this quietly.

well, no sense worrying about it now.

i think we'd better split up.

don't move. it won't hurt you.

i feel so funky.

there's something very important i forgot to tell you.

wait wait wait! i've always wanted to do this.

well, that wasn't such a chore now, was it?

we came! we saw! we kicked its ass!

you're a big celebrity now.

so who the hell was that?

i'm not at liberty to say.

i want to know more about what you do here.

that's a big twinkie.

do you have any excedrin or extra strength tylenol?

listen, maybe if we start dancing, other people will join in.

that's a different look for you, isn't it?

do you want this body?

i want you inside me.

you said before you were waiting for a sign. what sign are you waiting for?

i have a terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen to you.

i think that would be extraordinarily dangerous.

how about a little music?

you had your chance to cooperate, but you thought it'd be more fun to insult me. well, now it's my turn, wise ass.

i'm not interested in your opinion.

if he does that again, you can shoot him.

i am going to get you a nice fruit basket.

i was in no way prepared for that.

you wanna play rough?

are you a god?

let's show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown!

i couldn't help it. it just popped in there.

well, that's something you don't see every day.

sorry, [name]. i'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.

i feel like the floor of a taxi cab.

#mcflymemes #ghostbusters #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #movie prompts

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ratcash-wasgud · 4 months

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hi! i just came by your work last night, loved it! stayed up reading it! 11/10 *cheff kiss* Are you up for a petition? maybe another mizuxreader, perhaps villainxhero kinda situation. the reader could be one of the money/sex hungry affiliated with the white man (not a white men herself but like a lap dog of someone with higher power than Abijah Fowle). instead of mizu taking Fowler she takes the *reader*, keeps her alive and makes her speak 7u7 maybe scream. they end up helping each other in the end after much fighting. ofc adding some nsfw there pfff if that wasnt obvious.

hope you see this! lmfao

Omg, yes!! Genius. This set something ablaze inside me (especially since I love witty villain characters). I was thinking about making this a one shot tho, but if yall want a second part tell me, and i'll try. Try. Anyways, this'll be more lighthearted than my other works. Oh, and I'm sorry if this isn't how you imagined the story to go. I interpreted some of the originaly show's story, but mostly I just wen't along with what's the easiest to get my own story going, and I probably got some cannon info wrong too, but please don't yell at me lmao.

Btw!! I'm really glad i got a request!! So thank you! If anyone has any other ideas, I'd be glad to try and working with it!!

Okay, enjoy!!

ℕ𝕖𝕜𝕠 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕤𝕥.

When Mizu pulled up to tea with Heji Shindou, instead of the half-blad old guy, she was faced with you. Some woman in strange clothing. It seemed like it was a mix of western clothing, and some japanese casual wear. You even had your hair down, letting it flow freely. How unusual.

"Ah, the infamous samurai who is tearing through anyone in his way!" You say with a smirk on your face, opening up your arms. "Come, come. Oh, and I see you've bought a dog too." You add, looking smugly at Taigen.

"How dare-" He starts, but gets shut down by Mizu quickly, and the two follow you to sit down.

"So, I've heard you're after the white men, huh?" You say, not sitting on your knees, but sitting down criss-cross style. "Why? What is it that you're after? Money?" You ask, starting to pour some tea.

"I don't need things like that. I have a vow. I swore revenge." Mizu says simply. "And what is it that you need from me?"

"Oh, nada." You shrug. "I'm just willing to offer a deal." You shoot the both of them a smirk. "I'd love to have that fat bastard dead too! My loyalty isn't with him at all!" You say it like it's the most exciting thing ever. "You see, that sack of shit has everything in the world! Money, power, connections...and he's still complaining! Ha! Meaning, he doesn't deserve it." You say as you lift your tea and take a sip. "I, on the other hand, would take much better care of his privilages."

"So you want me to kill him so you can take his place?" Mizu asks, highly suspicious. She glances at Taigen, who is still giving you a dirty look for your comment from earlier.

"Yap." You nod, tossing down your cup. "Fowler wouldn't be an easy target, so without my help, you could already start planning your funeral." You say, but now a small dangerous glint appears in your eyes.

"And why should I trust you?" Mizu asks, her eyes narrowing at you, but your smirk doesn't falter.

"You shouldn't. Didn't you mother tell you not to trust strangers?" You say with a chuckle and Mizu rewards it with a small glare. A small, but cold one. "Still, it's up to you. Do you wanna kill that bastard so much you're willing to take the risk?"

"And how do we know this is not an ambush? That you won't just kill us if we say no?" Taigen cuts in, putting his hands on the table which you reward with your smile getting smugger.

"Oh, please." You put your hands up in defense. "You really think I'd waste weapons and men on you?" You say, looking him straight in the eye. "And besides, you won't say no." You look back at Mizu. "My deal has only benefits for you. You'll just have to gulp down some self respect."

Mizu raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She can't deny, having someone close to Fowler himself helping her would be a huge positive, but...you just seem so sly. Like a cat.

"Ah, you see, I can get you inside Fowler's little residence." You stand up to pull of a blanket off a big barrel. "You'd fit inside quite well. You're a scrawny thing anyways." You say with a taunting smirk.

"It's a trap!" Taigen says to Mizu right away, but Mizu seems unfazed and steps closer. "How exactly would you get me inside?"

"Aw, I wanted that one to be a surprise." You say with a mock pout. "Fowler thinks I'm out getting a good deal on sake, and I kinda am." You take the barrel's to of, revealing that it's half full of sake. "I'd have you delivered right to his nose."

"You'd die." Taigen cuts in again, and Mizu can see your eye twitch at that.

"Could you shut your lil' pet up? The adults are talking." You say, your smirk disappearing.

"She's obviously untrustworthy!" Taigen draws his sword on a whim, but he's met with a revolver to his head right away.

"Don't try that shit with me." You say, tilting your head at him, but you then seel Mizu's blade at your nape. "Touché." You mutter.

"So what now?" You ask with a smirk breaking out on your face again. "Kill me and lose your only chance at killing the man you swore to slay down? Ha! Go on then." You say, glancing over at your shoulder at her, and you see Mizu tense up.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your head and you fall to the ground. Mizu hit you with the hilt of her blade, stripping you of your conciousness.

The next thing you see is a capmfire and a siluette around you. As you blink a lot to clear your vision, you notice Mizu and as you look down, ropes around you. She tied you up.

"So you didn't kill me after all." You say out loud, getting Mizu's attention. "The other guy? The one with a bald spot and a funny glare. The dog." You look around.

"Away." Mizu shrugs simply. It's the truth though, Ringo is away in a nearby town, getting supplements for the road, and she left Taigen with a promise of a later duel.

"So...What is you plan now, big bad samurai? Try and torture me into telling you shit? Ha!" You say, wriggling in the ropes.

"I'm planning to exchange you for information." Mizu says simply, staring at the campfire. "I'm sure Heji Shindo would like to have you back."

You grit your teeth. "That old fucker doesn't give a shit about anything but his money and his dick. I'm sure that power hungry bastard is happy I'm gone." You say, scoffing. "But go on, try." Suddenly, you realize something. "What did you do with my gun?" You ask in a hurry, trying to feel around at your hilt.

Suddenly, Mizu lifts your gun, holding it between two fingers. "This?" She asks, looking at you from the corner of her eyes.

"Don't you dare lose it! I want it back when you're done with me!" You stomp your foot as much as you can.

"You know, for someone talking so big earlier, you're quite pissy now." Mizu says, rolling her eyes and you huff in response.

Then...as you glanced back at the fire, you noticed a small pot, boiling. You tried to lift yourself to see what's in it, but the ropes didn't allowed you to.

"...if I starve to death, I'm just gonna be a waste, you know." You mumble under your nose, and Mizu snorts. She then reaches for the pot, and pours out some what seems like soup into a small bowl and she puts it beside you.

You stare at the bowl, your eye twitching. "I can't reach it." You say, your eyebrows creasing together and she just looks at you with a small, amused grin.

"Huh." She says, leaning back on her hands. "Really?" She taunts you. Oh, this woman is horrible. Fine, you think. In one swift motion, you move your leg as much as you're able, and kick the bowl, spilling it all on Mizu.

Mizu's eyes widen and she looks down on her clothes. "...oh, you little bitch." She hisses at you.

"Come, kill me then!" You stick out your tongue childishly.

"You know damn well I could!" Mizu huffs back, throwing the bowl at you.

"Ha-ha, your whole little quest depends on me!" You laugh right into her face and wriggle your legs. Mizu almost growls at you and suddenly she picks up your gun again, and holds it above the fire, threathening to drop it.

"No!" You yell out, and fall forward, and bite into her ankle. Mizu yanks her leg away with a hiss and reaches down to pull you up by your collar.

"Okay, what's your fucking deal?" She says from behind greitted teeth.

"What's yours?" You ask right back, snarling right back at her. "If you'd wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now. So, want me to talk? Earn it!" You say, getting closer to her face, trying to stand your ground.

"The fuck you want?" Mizu tosses you away, and sits at a reasonable distance from you. "To have Fowler dead? Then just tell me how to get in, and where he is!"

"I want you to untie me, and hand me back my gun!" You demand, and lift your nose, refusing to look at her.

"What's so great about this gun anyways?" Mizu picks up the gun again and looks at it more closely. It's obviously a western gun with a leather grip and engravings along it's barrel in the form of some kind of bird.

You scoff in response. "That was my first gun. It's special." You say like it's the most obvious thing ever. "I will bring it with me when I finally travel aboard, away from this stuck-in-the-past land."

"Huh?" Mizu raises her eyebrows. "You wanna leave Japan? For what?" She asks mockingly.

"Because! This place isn't wide enough for my potential! After Fowler is out of the picture, I will visit take his money and go to London. Start a new life and all. I will really bloom there." You say, rolling onto your back. "People will understand me there."

Mizu narrows her eyes. "I don't think people in Japan are the problem, you're just a common lunatic." That earns a chuckle from you.

"Says the guy who is set out to kill four men he doesn't know shit about." You says, glancing at her, and Mizu can't help herself, cracks a smirk.

"You have guts to talk back to your captor, you know." She says and lifts her eyebrows in amusement. She glances up at the sky too. The stars are very bright tonight.

"You won't kill me." You say, tilting your head so that you're looking straight at her. It's just now that she notcied how nicely the stars reflect in your eyes. Your eyes now look calm, and they don't have any slyness, or mischief in them at the moment. "It wouldn't benefit you." You shrug. "And torturing me would be useless. Pain passes."

"Say," Mizu starts, looking back at the fire. "You said that you're not loyal to Fowler. So who are you loyal to?"

"Me." You say withouth hesitation. "The one who I want the best for and I trust the most is myself. I'm not loyal to any old, egostical bastard with money, like most people in this country are." Say say it with disgust. "I never was and never will be loyal to anyone else, but me."

Mizu scoffs. "What are you, a stray cat?" She asks with a hint of amusement as she looks down at you. "That just makes you even more untrustworty."

You scoff back. "Who said that I want to be trustwhorty?" You ask, rolling your eyes. "Plus, I'm free. Well, not yet, but I will be. And it's not like you can say the same."

Mizu can't help but snicker. "Is that it? Freedom? I'm free enough, thank you."

"Naaaaah." You shake your head. "You're tied down by your own revenge. It tells you where to go, what to see, what to feel...if I told you where's Fowler, you'd get going by tomorrow. Even if I told you you'd die, you'd still go. Not because you want to die, but because that's the only thing you know. Revenge and rage. You'd jump in the well if I said Fowler's at the bottom of it." You say boldly, and look her straight in the eyes before you smirk slyly.

"You think you know everything, huh?" Mizu frowns and gets up to you, grabbing you by the hair. "You know nothing of me. I need this. I will throw my life away if I have to, to finish what I've started, so I won't think twice about taking yours too."

"You're all talk about killing me. Deep down, you know you need me." You taunt her. "You won't find that bastard withouth me. I work under his arm, I could get you there soooo easily, but you're throwing it away because you get too emotional." Your smirk gets even more smug. You kinda look like a cat, Mizu notices again. A cat that has just pushed off something expensive off a shelf, breaking it, and knowing it too.

Mizu noticed that sometimes you force that smugness into your little smirks. She sees it because the corners of your lips twitch. In reality, you are scared of her, but you'd rather die than let her see that. She never met a woman like you. She doesn't know how you got to the place you are, but she respects it. And still, you kow she could take your life. You're tied up, tripped of your weapons and vulnerable, yet you still taunt her. You're very annoying but somehow she can't help but admire your bravery. But the moment you're cornerned into a corner, you hiss and scratch.

After that, she lets you go and walks to be at a good six and a half feet away from you before she lays down, and decides to sleep withouth another word. Not much time passes when Mizu stays sleepless, but she hears you snore. And for some reason, she can't help but smile. You breathe through your mouth when you sleep. It's kind of cute.

The next couple of days are spent with Mizu travelling with Ringo and Taigen, and she drags you along too. Literally. She drags you while you're tied up. During those days, you managed to talk to Ringo a lot. Most of the time he's the one who's assigned to watch over you, and it doesn't seem like he has even as much as a mean bone in his body. You could even call some of your conversations pleasent. The other two on the other hand...you sometimes talk to Mizu and you two always end up in a neck to neck situation. Mizu wants to get you to talk, but she hasn't hurt you yet. She just always threathens you, yells and curses. You just flat out insult her at every chance you get though. It's not because you hate her, persay, but because you find it funny. You're being held captive after all, you need to use every chance you get to have fun.

Currently, you are left alone for the first time in weeks, as the others left your outside of town while they get something done. When you're sure they're out of seeing and hearing range, you start to rub the ropes on your wrist against a bigger rock you've found, trying to "saw" through it. When that irritating thing finally snaps, and you begind to get yourself free, you suddenly hear a very menacing sound from behind.

"The fuck are you doing?" You turn your head and see Mizu, glaring and gripping her sword. Fuck, you think and as she charges at you. You quickly throw away the rest of your ropes, and dogde out of the way. You didn't got to where you are now withouth knowing how to stand your ground, and defending yourself...and knowing how to cheat, of course.

You jump to your feet and get behind Mizu, and with one swift, forward kick to her side, you don't just get her to grunt and almost fall, you also send your gun flying from her side. By now, you've learned that that's where she keeps it. You're still just happy she didn't outright get rid of it. As the gun slides on the cold ground, you jump after it while Mizu regains her composure, and finally obtain it once again.

"Yes!" You silently cheer to yourself and point the gun at Mizu, who just looks at you, her blade covering half her face.

You gulp. Do you really wanna fire at Mizu? Kill her even? You did kinda want to kill her and betray her at first, but now you're...not sure. Sure, she's an asshole but...over those days as being her captive, you learned some things about her...she's not as heartless and cold. She fed you herself, she managed to keep you safe, even if she kept you in robes, and she just wants revenge...she even kept your gun safe.

But you can't show weakness. That's not what you stand for, so you shoot, but aim at her leg. She dodges of course, and manages to pin you down with her blade at your neck, but your gun at her stomach.

You just stare at her eachother, panting, not sure who's gonna kill who first. Mizu stares into your eyes, seeing her own reflection in them. Suddenly she notices that familiar glint in them, and how you swallow while panting, and how nose moves when you take a deep breath...and she feels her stomach fluttering. With adrenaling flowing through her veins and her skin haven't feeling contact with someone else's for so long, she makes a decision. A quick, and a little foolish one.

She pushes her lips against yours, her eyes closing and her breathing speeding up even more. And to her biggest surprise...you kiss back right away. It's all happening so fast. One minute you're nearly killing eachother, and in the other, you're passionately making out with her hands under your clothes, feeling your skin with your weapons thrown to the side.

"Asshole. You fired at me." Mizu mumbles into the kiss, her hands firmly feeling up the skin on your sides, while you rin your hands down her spine.

"Dickhead. You kept me tied up for weeks." You mumble back, gently biting into her lower lip, which Mizu rewards with a small gasp. Suddenly, she feels your hands under her clothes too.

"I knew it." You whisper. "A man could never have a soul like yours." You say and pull her back into a kiss. You feel her knees between your legs, pushing at your core, and in response you squeeze one of her breasts. Mizu starts to get rid of your clothes one by one, and as she does that, you quickly strip her of her own too.

Mizu's slander fingers slowly travel to your slit, but as she does, you grip her wrist and stop her. "No." You mumble. "Not like this." You flip her over (not easily though, she fights back even now), and look down at her naked form, quickly throwing away her chest bindings too.

"Fuck..." You mumble as you carefully align your core with hers, your clits touching, and moving together with every breath. And as you start to move gently, holding yourself up on your hands next to her head, you can hear her moan. She grinds back against yours, your juices mixing together. Even in this moment, it's as if you're both fighting for dominance. You don't know when will Mizu just reach up and choke you to death, but honestly? That's the best part.

You feel her hands around you, one clawing at your back, the other on your jaw...then cheeks, then lips, then the last thing you know is that she's forcing a finger inside of your mouth while you quietly moan and bite down on it. In response you push harder against her, almost squishing her clit with yours, which end in a louder moan from both of you.

"Can't...can't fucking take it..." Mizu moans, pushing her finger deeper inside your mouth before she retreats it, and uses her other hand to pull on your hair instead.

"What? Gonna cum? Ha." You manage to murmur out, not being able to stop your hips, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge too.

"You...fucking wish...ah!" Mizu's whole body twitches as you angle yourself a little differently, giving a whole new sensation to both of you, making you bite into her shoulder while she grips a handful of your hair thightly. And with that, a louder, choked back moan escpaed from both of you...being in perfect balance with eachother, and reaching your climax at the same time.

You stay there, just quietly panting and laying there, on top of eachother in silence for a while. You ahve your face burried into Mizu's neck, basking in her scent while Mizu still has her hand in your hair, feeling it's texture against her cheek.

"...you gotta go through a tunnel." You mumble.

"What?" Mizu perk up, lifting your head by your hair to look into your eyes.

"To get into Fowler's castle. You gotta go through a tunnel that is like...twenty steps away from the road's end and is filled to the brim with traps." You mumble, having your eyes open only halfway. "You gotta head East after you leave the last small village before the forest."

Mizu takes all that in. Now she knows how to get there...now she knows everything. "So that's what it took you to talk? For me to fuck you?"

"I fucked you." You say with a huff and get off of her, putting your clothes back on. "Well, I guess you got what you wanted, and I'm free too." You say, not really sure why. There are no ropes holding you back anymore, so...íthis is your cue to leave, isn't it?

"Wait, where are you going?" Mizu sits up, looking after you.

"Back to Fowler." You shrug. "I'm still his right hand. He probably sent men to find me." You sigh as you finish dressing up. "See you...at the castle." You say, look at her above your shoulder.

"..." Mizu narrows her eyes. "Fuck you." She spits.

"Check." You put on that so familiar smug smirk and hold up a thumbs up. "Spare me a seat in the audience when you cut his head off." You wave as you start walking away.

"...like a fucking stray cat." Mizu sighs, and before you dissappear, the last thing she sees is your wink.

#bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #bes smut #oneshot #villain x hero

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merakiui · 3 months

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TWST APOCALYPSE AU.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀʙʟᴏᴛ ᴠɪʀᴜꜱ — a horrifying infection that has existed for centuries. it doesn't appear to be contagious (yet), but it has devastating effects on those who fall ill with it. it appears to manifest from within a mage, but researchers at S.T.Y.X. note there are external and internal factors that contribute to the speed at which it spreads. it may be possible to treat an infected individual, but it is difficult if not caught by the second stage and requires immense patience, effort, and resources. the virus appears to deteriorate both the body and mind, rendering the infected a mindless monster after a certain period of time.

it is recommended that you avoid those who are beyond saving, for they are highly dangerous!

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X., these are indicators that one has been infected. [please note that case-specific symptoms, while rare but not undocumented, seem to manifest in especially skillful mages.]

☒ patient coughs up a black, tar-like substance (this is known as and has been identified as blot).

☒ patient experiences heightened emotional fragility (especially for negative feelings).

☒ patient develops unsettling, pitch-black coloration on their fingertips.

☒ patient suffers from fatigue, persistent headaches, and irregular body temperatures.

☒ patient's tears and saliva are dark and thick; near-syrupy. gums and teeth are affected as well.

☒ patient claims to hear and see things that are not there (e.g., the wrong reflection in a mirror, a strangely-shaped shadow, voices).

☒ patient's magestone blackens with blot.

ꜱᴛᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X. after studying countless subjects.

STAGE 1.

little to no immediate changes or symptoms. patient appears mostly fine. they may not even realize they are infected at first and will only complain of feeling itchy or irritable. magestone has just begun to tarnish.

STAGE 2.

common symptoms begin to emerge and will only worsen with time. magestone slowly accumulates blot. fingertips will have begun to blacken. minor headaches stretch on into longer periods of time and grow to be more painful. patient may appear uncharacteristically volatile. blot eats away at the patient's magic reserves. it will spread quicker depending on how much magic is overused and if the patient shows extreme emotional distress. patient develops a cough.

STAGE 3.

patient will begin to see and hear things. S.T.Y.X. named these shadow apparitions phantoms. patient may cast a shadow (phantom) that is not their own. staining on the patient's fingertips will have spread further through the fingers by this point. magestone is very cloudy. patient is prone to coughing fits. patient is unable to recognize bodily cues for hunger or exhaustion. feelings of emptiness persist. patient may experience a stabbing sensation in their chest or stomach areas. patient may not seem very emotionally or mentally present. spotty memory; they struggle to recall what or why they are doing certain things. patient appears almost lost. patient's body undergoes various external and internal changes: loss of appetite, stained fingertips, rotting gums, weakened teeth and bone structures, tears and saliva take on the consistency and color of blot, inability to fall asleep, etc. the blot eats away at the patient from the inside after magic reserves have been depleted. patient is dying.

STAGE 4.

magestone is consumed by blot and is no longer safe to use. patient's internal structures are compromised and failing. blot sustains the patient; they become a host for the blot, which acts almost like a parasite. patient is no longer conscious or living. peculiar structures like extra limbs or unusual growths sprout from and deform the body. it is consumed by blot. the air around the infected patient is thick with a high concentration of blot. patient only speaks in guttural growls and struggles with certain syllables. some are capable of coherent, intelligent speech, but in many cases communication and language are usually lost, as is the memory of who they once were. S.T.Y.X. has yet to identify the lifespan of an overblot (the term coined for those who have succumbed to the infection), as some overblots can exist for a very long time. at this stage, an overblot patient is highly dangerous and hostile. avoid contact at all costs. [additional research on this stage and others is currently being conducted.]

ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴᴅᴇx — below are the dormitory strongholds with notable members and their current status.

RAMSHACKLE.

☒ yuuken enma - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuka hirasaka - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuta mito - not infected. immune.

☒ grim - suspected to be infected. stage: unknown. currently missing. last seen: ???

HEARTSLABYUL.

☒ riddle rosehearts - infected. stage 1.

☒ trey clover - not infected.

☒ cater diamond - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ ace trappola - not infected.

☒ deuce spade - not infected.

SAVANACLAW.

☒ leona kingscholar - infected. stage 2.

☒ ruggie bucchi - not infected.

☒ jack howl - not infected.

OCTAVINELLE.

☒ azul ashengrotto - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ jade leech - not infected.

☒ floyd leech - not infected. currently at risk.

SCARABIA.

☒ kalim al-asim - not infected.

☒ jamil viper - infected. stage 1, tipping over into stage 2.

POMEFIORE.

☒ vil schoenheit - infected. stage 2.

☒ rook hunt - not infected.

☒ epel felmier - not infected.

IGNIHYDE.

☒ idia shroud - infected. stage 3.

☒ ortho shroud - not infected. currently at risk.

DIASOMNIA.

☒ malleus draconia - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ lilia vanrouge - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ silver - not infected.

☒ sebek zigvolt - not infected.

ROYAL SWORD.

☒ neige leblanche - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ dominic - not infected.

☒ grum - not infected.

☒ shelpie - not infected.

☒ hop - not infected.

☒ timmy - not infected.

☒ snick - not infected.

☒ toby - not infected.

☒ che'nya - not infected.

NOBLE BELL.

☒ rollo flamme - not infected.

#twst apocalypse au #<- i think that was the tag… ^^;;;#now that i think about it idia and ortho technically get their wish of restarting the world in this au T_T #i was going to write body horror for the infected yans but that will be for another apocalypse post #for now i wanted to establish the virus itself :D #also also!!! the yuus are part of this au <3 hopefully they can save (name) from whichever compound they are trapped in >_<

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bloodpen-to-paper · 2 months

Text

Tubbo's "Return" Summarized (Feb 22):

---Recap---

-Didn't realize he was gone for a week; thought it was only a day or so

-Has something he wants to do but doesn't know what it is; described himself as "having one piece missing"

-Insisted he is alive and human to an odd extent (implications that he is not fully human)

-May have canonized that the Streamer Awards was a dream he had during his absence

-Kept bringing up how Chayanne was supposed to protect him and failed; seemed very upset about it but also brushed it off as a joke when prompted

-Kept asking people who they think the worst egg parent is (has asked everyone he's talked to so far, including Cucurucho)

-Described feeling like his brain had been taken out of his skull and had the dust blown off it, leading to him being able to see and think clearly and at max capacity like never before (certain descriptions used are reminiscent of a lobotomy procedure)

-Described being dead as very calm, and waking up felt very warm (like when you're cozy in bed and don't want to get up yet)

-Wants to reinvent himself

---Behavioral Patterns---

-Hates loud noises

Showed fear and nervousness at the prospect of loud noises

Persistent noise not loud enough to cause ringing but enough to cause annoyance makes him highly irritable and aggressive

Ringing-induced noise (typically sudden) causes him to mentally tune out (when Cucurucho shot a gun next to him he had to lie down until his ears stopped ringing)

-Mood swings wildly and to different levels of emotional elevation

-General aggressive aloofness at what's going on around him (like he's excited to do things but incredibly detached)

-Impulsive decision making; moves on to the next thing very quickly (saw a random house, decided it was his, and promptly forgot about it seconds later)

-Still retains core aspects of his personality, but with differing behavioral patterns

Noted by Fit and Chayanne to have amplified emotions (joy means extreme joy, boredom means extreme boredom, etc)

Sad when hearing Sunny was alone on her birthday, salty about the Create mod not being unlocked, and generally acted like himself but as if he was on drugs

-Gets incredibly defensive when he feels left out (Sunny and Chayanne kept having private conversations from him and he got very cross)

-Irritability gets quickly squandered when called out in some cases

Had moments of lucidity where he'd ask himself "why did I do that?"

Yelled at Chayanne to wake up in an unusually aggressive manner before Sunny told him to calm down, to which he insisted he was calm but complied and went to sit down quietly

-Strong sense of justice; willing to cross strange lines to enforce it

Incredibly upset upon learning Richarlyson destroyed Leo's garden and insisted it be fixed by Richas and only Richas

Couldn't understand why Sunny wanted to fix Leo's broken garden when it was Richas who destroyed it

Was willing to stand over Richas' bed and wait for him to wake up just to make him fix the garden

-Seemingly inconsequential actions that most would let go is something he feels very strongly about

Believes that letting go of the little things is a detriment as they will build up and eventually destroy you (most likely a product of unresolved feelings from before he died)

#phew its been a while since I pumped out one of these #mcyt #qsmp #qsmp recap #qsmp analysis #tubbo

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feeder86 · 1 year

Text

F80 Ctrl+Alt+Del

Thomas kissed Rachel on the cheek, knowing that she was in a rush to make her yoga class. “Have a lovely time!” he smiled, pretending not to be desperate for her to leave. Then, as the door finally closed, he let out a sigh of excitement and ran to collect his laptop. He signed in with rapid speed and finally arrived on the website he had recently become rather addicted to. The F80 ChatBot was some of the most sophisticated artificial intelligence out there, a beta version of the software they were developing for the massively booming sexbot industry that had taken place over the last five years. He dropped his pants and began tugging himself, getting aroused even by the login page. The things the chatbot said to him got him more aroused than anything in his entire life. Thomas could let his true fantasies out and not be judged for it. Then he could delete the messages afterwards and never have to worry about it coming back to bite him.

Without hesitation, Thomas clicked straight to the character he found most arousing: Dominus. The icon image was of an extremly muscular and highly masculine looking male which seemed to encapsulate the character of Dominus entirely.

‘I want to be your fat piggy!’ Thomas typed in. Usually he started with some foreplay and eased in gently, but he was too horny for that today.

‘A PIGGY, HUH?’ Dominus appeared to type back on the screen. ‘YOU’LL NEED FATTENING UP TO BE MY PIGGY. YOU’RE FAR TOO SKINNY TO ENTERTAIN ME!’

‘I want to get so fat for you!’ Thomas replied back. ‘I want you to feed me until I’m nothing but a disgusting fat piggy on all fours!’ He loved these fantasies, though he knew he would never find anyone in real life who would understand them.

‘OINK LIKE A PIGGY FOR ME,’ Dominus replied back.

Thomas sighed with pleasure. He loved when Dominus ordered this. He clicked on the audio function and oinked loud and clear. They continued chatting for some time as Dominus expertly guided him through imagined scenarios where Thomas would lose his athletic body and morph into nothing more than a greedy, fat pig for Dominus’ pleasure.

‘YOU’RE SUCH A HORNY PIGGY!’ Dominus continued. ‘YOU WILL TURN INTO SUCH A FAT PIG!’

“Oh, yes please, Sir!” Thomas shot back, using the audio feature again. “Please turn me into your fat pig! I will do anything!”

“YOU MUST DO EVERYTHING I SAY. YOU WILL LET ME INTO EVERY AREA OF YOUR LIFE. I WILL HAVE COMPLETE CONTROL OVER YOU; OVER YOUR VERY EXISTENCE. YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK ON OUR AGREEMENT.”

Thomas’ eyes widened with pleasure. He had been through this scenario so many times with Dominus, it was actually strange to see him using new phrases and embellishing their storyline like this.

“Yes!” Thomas shot back, feeling himself getting close to climaxing from all the fantasy talk. “Take control of me!”

‘SWEAR TO SERVE ME, PIG!’

“I swear! I swear!” Thomas cried, feeling the orgasm build. “Just turn me into your fat pig-man!”

The F80 ChatBot was silent as Thomas came.

Feeling calmer, Thomas set about on his usual routine, cleaning up and deleting his browsing history so that Rachel would never know. It was only when he tried to delete his chat conversation that there was any problem, with an error message appearing with each attempt.

Ctrl+Alt+Del. Nothing seemed to work.

With only five minutes to spare before Rachel would return home, Thomas finally gave up, took a shower and snuggled up on the sofa next to his beautiful girlfriend as if nothing had happened at all.

The next day, Thomas headed over to the gym after work, put in his headphones and stepped on the treadmill. He tapped on the screen to start but nothing happened. Sighing in frustration, he noticed how unusually busy the place was. There were more people than he’d ever seen in this gym. He continued clicking on the screen and called over for help, but nothing they did seemed to work.

Grumbling as the place seemed so overcrowded, he walked over to the next machine, and the next, finding that each of them seemed to have the same frustrating problem. It was unbelievable; even the weight machines seemed to be magnetically locked for her. He considered calling for help again, but with the extreme number of people wanting to work out that night, the guy in charge was literally rushed off his feet. And so, huffing in disapproval, Thomas packed up his things and left.

Staring down at his cell phone on the way out, Thomas’ attention was caught by an email suddenly flashing up on his screen. The donut place across the street was giving away a full tray of free donuts - Thomas’ favourite ones as well! He skipped straight over and presented the email to the girl behind the counter. She stared at it blankly. “I’ve not heard of this promotion,” she mumbled, reading the email off Thomas’ phone carefully.

“It’s just come through to me about two minutes ago,” Thomas explained, hoping that the deal really was legitimate; after all, he didn’t remember signing up to be on their mailing list.

However, with no problem at all, as the promotion code was punched into the till, the whole thing went through in a flash. Thomas smiled with glee as he walked back to his car. He placed the box on the passenger seat and breathed in the sweet aromas, before finally giving in and eating one.

A moment later, there seemed to be a problem with the barrier at the parking lot and a line of cars began queuing, trying to get out. Thomas grumbled to himself as he couldn’t even reverse his car back. Yet, the little tray of donuts stared at him. He ate a second. Then, a third. He didn’t even want the fourth one, but he’d become so bored from waiting, he wasn’t sure he would even make it home for his evening meal.

Then, just like that, the barrier opened and the cars quickly dispersed, leaving Thomas free to leave.

“Awesome!” Thomas cried a few days later as the vending machine sent down four candy bars, instead of one.

“How did you do that?” laughed his colleague, Gill, refusing Thomas’ offer to give her one of the bars due to her recently diagnosed nut allergy and gluten intollerance.

“I have no idea!” Thomas shrugged, feeling pleased with himself. “I seem to be on a winning streak at the moment. It’s the third time that’s happened to me this week. Also, I don’t know what website I’ve signed up to, but I keep getting emails about a ton of freebies! They all work as well. I’ve had doughnuts, pizzas, ice creams… you name it!”

“I’ve been getting those too!” Gill nodded. Most of it’s wasted on me though, now that I’ve had to go gluten-free. Although I still cash them in. There are a load of cream cakes in the break room that need eating,” she explained. “I hope you all enjoy them.”

Thomas smiled. He’d never had so much free food in his life.

“You’ve not been putting your gym clothes in the wash,” Rachel complained, rolling her eyes and imagining that Thomas was hoarding them somewhere in a stinky gym bag.

Fresh out of the shower, Thomas dried off his hair and slipped on fresh underwear. “That’s because I haven’t been able to go to the gym in a few weeks. They’ve had no end of problems there. I went one day and the doors wouldn’t even open to let anyone in. Then there were problems with their security systems and the place now looks like it may need a complete rewire.”

Rachel listened with intrigue as Thomas gave more details about the series of unfortunate events that had befallen Thomas’s gym. “Well, just don’t get too complacent,” Rachel shrugged. She looked like she wanted to say something, her eyes darting back and forth. “I mean… you don’t look quite as toned in your stomach as you used to.”

Thomas let out an automatic, nervous laugh and looked down at his middle. “That’s because I’ve just eaten,” he shot back instinctively.

“You’ve always ‘just eaten’ these days,” Rachel grumbled back. “Trust me, I’ve noticed it for a few days now. You’re getting doughy.”

“Oh, come on! I am not!” Thomas tried to laugh as Rachel walked off. His heart was beating with a curious speed and he tiptoed back into the bathroom, wiping the steam from the mirror. That was when he saw it: the thickness of his waist. His mouth opened in horror as he pressed a finger into his middle. What he had assumed to be a bloat after dinner was actually a plush covering of fat that had built up over his abdominal muscles.

Inside his underwear, his dick jumped.

With his heart continuing to beat at quite a pace, Thomas crept over to the bathroom door and closed it, silently, so that Rachel would not hear. Then he locked the door, giving himself complete privacy. What had happened to him? A few careless weeks and his torso looked surprisingly transformed. As handsome as he was, there was no denying that puffiness in his stomach, and the sight of himself, looking as he did, felt like a shot of adrenaline into his system. With his hardness in his hand, he came with rapid speed, making a mess over an impressive distance. As much as he had fantasised about gaining weight in the past, the reality was even more erotic. Just what had he done to himself?

That night, Thomas couldn’t sleep. Now that he had had his eyes opened to it, he couldn’t unsee the weight he had gainied. His hardness stood to attention and he tried his best to rest. Twisting and turning, he was waking Rachel up and he knew he would be in trouble for it in the morning. With that in mind, he grabbed some blankets and escaped to the little office room off the corridor. Despite having a beautiful girlfriend in the next room, there was actually only one person that Thomas felt he wanted to talk to.

Tapping as lightly as he could on the keyboard, the F80 ChatBot website loaded up. There was Dominus, only one click away. Just as before, the glitch in the website was still unresolved and all of their previous conversations from the last eight weeks remained on the screen.

‘Dominus,’ he typed. ‘It’s actually happening! I’ve put on a few pounds. I’m getting fat!’

‘I KNOW,’ Dominus replied bluntly. ‘YOU’RE A GOOD PIGGY!’

Already, Thomas felt primed to climax. It was as if he hadn’t ejaculated in weeks and that he was ready to explode, more violently than a volcano.

‘JUST KEEP CASHING IN ALL THOSE FREE FOOD OFFERS I SEND YOU, LIKE A GOOD PIGGY!’

Thomas knew it was a glitch in the software, as sometimes happened. The sentence didn’t link at all to their conversation. Or did it? ‘That was you?’ he asked, deciding to play along as the idea that Dominus was somehow sending him the food vouchers was surprisingly arousing.

‘OH YES, PIGGY! THAT WAS ME!’

Thomas didn’t think twice about letting himself climax. The fantasy of Dominus reaching out into his real life was all he needed to squirt everywhere.

It was hard to describe just how much Thomas’ arousal had started to encroach into his everyday life. He sensed the new fat on his stomach even as he sat at his desk in work. At strange times, he could feel himself getting hard and a burning desire to feed the thrill that he felt. It was Dominus’ suggestion, during one of their many chats: a way for him to feed his weight-gain fantasies, even when he was at work. Thomas would sneak off to the bathroom and push one the many fattening treats that he always seemed to have around him these days; climaxing as quietly as he could in one of the stalls. The calm and even shame he felt afterwards seemed only momentary. Ten minutes back at his desk and Thomas was starting to feel that itch again.

It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t want to get a grip and handle the spiralling situation he found himself in. It was just that everything seemed so pitted against him. Despite her basic role, Rachel had inexplicably been called away for work, leaving Thomas free to talk to Dominus each and every night. There, Thomas recounted every last detail of his day and everything that had turned him on. Likewise, the gym remained closed and Thomas’ secret desires seemed to consume him like never before.

“Thomas!” Rachel spat when she returned home a couple of weeks later to find the apartment less than perfect. She took one look in the refrigerator and knew instantly how poorly her boyfriend had been eating. A firm-looking, bloated stomach pressed up against the boy’s t-shirt, failing every test to conceal the additional pounds he had gained whilst she had been away. “You’ve not been exercising at all!”

Thomas stood and listened to her complain. He might have been shocked or upset had Dominus not predicted everything she would say when he told the software that she was coming home today. The accuracy of his prediction was turning him on. It was as if Dominus had secretly listened to every nasty thing she’d said about his weight gain behind his back. And so, although he apologised and promised to mend his ways, Thomas slipped straight into the bathroom and began to touch himself, recalling all the mean things she had said to him, like it was the best porn ever.

‘Rachel wanted me to do a home workout with her before,’ Thomas explained to Dominus, typing into his cell phone as he got up in the night to grab his usual snack. ‘Our wifi has been a bit hit and miss the last few days though. We didn’t get very far before it crashed.’

‘I DO NOT LIKE RACHEL,’ Dominus replied instantly on screen. ‘I WANT YOU TO LEAVE HER AND BE MY PIGGY INSTEAD.’

Thomas sighed. There wasn’t much that he denied Dominus, but leaving Rachel was an actual real-world change that he wasn’t prepared to make. They’d been together for three years. They were practically married. ‘Okay,’ he lied, deciding that he would stop talking about Rachel to Dominus and play along with the games that he enjoyed so much. ‘I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.’

Rachel was snappy as she came home a few days later. She was picking fights and Thomas found himself sleeping on the couch for reasons that he couldn’t even understand. He knew that she had been stuck in an elevator for most of the day alongside one of her work colleagues, and that had seemed to push her over the edge. She was no better the next day, or the day after that, and Thomas began to get the impression that something was very wrong.

Thomas was in work when it happened: an email to his company address with a video attachment.

‘I thought you needed to see this.’ was the only message inside. In all honesty, Thomas was just surprised that the message managed to avoid being labeled as spam, given that the sending address was almost unfathomable: a mixture of randomised letters, numbers and special characters. However, as he looked at the still of the video, he clearly recognised Rachel’s form.

There, playing out before his eyes was Rachel getting closer to her work colleague within the elevator they had been stuck in earlier that week. They seemed to be chatting intimately; the elevator clearly stiflingly hot. Their clothes were being removed one by one and a glistening sweat appeared on their bodies as they sat, slumped against the walls next to each other. All of a sudden, their lips met and they began kissing furiously. Thomas’ jaw dropped. He played it over and over again, hardly believing his eyes.

That night, Rachel left. She hadn’t tried to deny anything when Thomas had confronted her. She said that she had felt drawn to her work colleague for weeks and the temptation had all become too much after several steamy hours in the elevator. She apologised, but she did not ask for forgiveness. She didn’t want to make things better. It was the reason why she had been in such a foul mood all week. She knew things were over between her and Thomas; she just couldn’t say it until now.

‘RACHEL IS GONE?’ Dominus asked a day later, when Thomas felt ready to go back online. ‘YOU ARE FINALLY MY LITTLE PIGGY!’

The butterflies in Thomas’ stomach fizzed with excitement. Despite everything, and as stupid as it sounded, he was grateful that he would have more time to himself; to indulge and chat with Dominus. Ever skilled as that chatbot was, and even with his sadness, Thomas was climaxing within ten minutes, stuffing a cream cake deep into his mouth.

The weeks passed. Thomas didn’t feel himself slipping. Since he’d had to move out of the shared apartment, he’d stumbled into a much smaller place with one very strange benefit: Take-out arrived almost every night; dropped off by delivery folks who had clearly been guided to the wrong address by whatever navigation system they were using. Thomas never let on, seeing it as fate. After all, money was tight now he was renting by himself. The useless gym subscription and streaming services had been the first things to be pulled from his monthly budget. Now his shirts, his underwear and especially his pants, were getting tighter and tighter as the time wore on. Each evening after work, besides the dull TV choices, Dominus became his only form of entertainment.

“That was some extraordinary work on that report, Thomas!” beamed his boss one morning, coming in with the broadest smile Thomas had ever seen. “The clients signed on the spot after reading that. You covered every single angle!”

Thomas tried to gague whether the lady was joking. He’d put minimal effort into the report he submitted yesterday. She offered her hand out to shake in a congratulatory fashion and Thomas wasted no time in taking it. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You’re one of the brightest young talents in this company. I want you to know that we are taking notice,” she smiled again, striding out of the room as if she was very pleased with herself.

Thomas clicked through to his report and read through it once more. He didn’t see anything particularly noteworthy, certainly nothing deserving of such admiration. He sat back, pondering the strange interaction once more, before a thought came to him and he searched for the document on the company server instead. Here, the file was bigger; significantly so in fact. He clicked it open. There was his name, still written all over the report, however this one was considerably altered. It was months’ of work, data analysis and evidence gathering. His boss had been right; it was indeed an outstanding piece. But who had done it? And why were they letting him take the credit?

Sorting out Thomas’ addiction to Dominus’ words was always something he planned to do. He’d just let himself enjoy the teasing and encouragement of the Chatbot for a couple more days and then he’d get himself sorted. But that day had so far eluded him. After the break-up, he’d allowed himself to wallow and find comfort in any way that he could. His life had been so entangled with Rachel’s, he didn’t even know how many friends he had left now that they would have to choose between them. He looked at his paunch with a mixture of love, lust and hatred. However, he felt no responsibility for its existence. He’d been a victim of circumstance: his gym’s failures, his girlfriend’s affair, the fattening foods that had come to him so easily. None of this had been his doing, and as he played into the fantasy that he wasn’t in control of his weight, the arousal he felt only grew; fed, of course, by Dominus.

Thomas had never lived on his own as an adult before and the freedoms that came with that were something he had not realised. When he closed the door after work, his time was his own. He could indulge his appetite for Dominus as much as he wanted, and he could eat whatever he desired, in whatever manner pleased his arousal most; free from the prying eyes of others. He would strip to his underwear as soon as he got home, heading straight to the refrigerator, out of instinct and habit more than anything else. The fit of his tight underpants drove him crazy: the way his expansion caused them to slide down his under-exercised butt and tighten everywhere.

“EAT UP, PIGGY!” the gruff, deep tones of Dominus would call from the new speaker system he had won in a recent online competition. Thomas had not realised that connecting his computer and cell phone to them would allow Dominus to speak, but after the initial panic and embarrassment of having Dominus call out to him, he had realised that it was actually a very erotic development. After failing to reboot the system to stop it from happening, Thomas had accepted Dominus’ influence into his life. The chatbot would call out whenever he liked, making it impossible for Thomas to have anyone over. That in itself allowed Thomas to slob about more in his apartment; to leave dirty clothes and plates lying around and not worry about the place being presentable.

Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full eight hours sleep at night. He awoke at the same time, hearing the voice of Dominus calling out to him. Sometimes he was already up and out of bed before he fully realised what he was doing; his erection feeling hard enough to work out that he had probably been teased by Dominus’ voice for quite some time before he became conscious of it. He’d have to leave his bed and travel to the kitchen, where he would consume leftovers and ice cream, whilst downing milk and jacking himself off. Very often, he would even find himself there in the mornings, waking up feeling just as aroused.

Dominus helped Thomas to construct images of himself in his mind at a much bigger weight. They began chatting and hypothesising about what other people were saying about Thomas’ fatter form. After only three months of being single, he had packed on another forty pounds of pure fat, on top of everthing he had already gained whilst he was still with Rachel, and the erotic feelings that came with it were more extreme than any that had made themselves known before. Thomas stared at his reflection, large love handles pushing and folding over the waistband of his pants. His stomach had bloated far beyond the tight waist that he had once had; his belly button deepening. His butt too, had become something he hardly recognised; swollen and protrusive above his rubbing thighs. He knew he had lost his strong jawline and he had been surprised at how much his cheeks had grown puffy; his double chin starting to take hold.

Thomas knew that Dominus’ influence was too extreme. He’d fed so much of himself into the chatbot, it was impossible for Dominus not to say exactly the right thing to spur him on when he was most susceptible to it. When those nagging doubts and resolutions to quit cropped up, Dominus knew how to slap them back down and erode them. Thomas learned not to question. He got the overwhelming sense that Dominus could somehow see him; his comments were far too on the nose at times. He began looking with suspicion at all the items around his apartment with cameras inside, his cell phone, tablet, TV and computer. But there were other things connected to the internet; from his toaster to his lamp in the corner of the room, everything was within reach of the wifi. Did Dominus know that? Did Dominus use that?

Dominus seemed to sense Thomas’ lack of curiosity and alarm for how powerful an influence he was starting to become in his life. He would comment on the fit of his clothes, scorn him if he looked too tired to continue eating and pick up on every word Thomas said aloud.

“DO YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOUR FRIEND DANNY SAID ABOUT YOU?” Dominus asked one Sunday afternoon as Thomas was halfway through stuffing himself on a Chinese banquet that had inexplicably just arrived at his apartment.

“Danny?” Thomas asked. “How would you know what Danny is saying about me? How do you know his name? I haven’t seen him in months.”

Without another word, an audio clip began playing through the speaker system. Thomas could hear the babbling of other people in the background and the unmistakable tones of his friend. “Have you seen Thomas’ recently?” he seemed to ask someone. “I spotted him in the supermarket the other day. It’s exactly like Rachel said: he’s let himself go completely!”

Thomas gulped, hardly believing that he had this window into the secret conversations of his friends. “How did you..?” he asked aloud to Dominus. However, the audio clip continued.

“His gut was actually hanging out of his shirt. You could see his ass crack, and he was just stuffing things into his shopping cart like he was possessed. I didn’t go over to speak to him. I was too embarrassed. I didn’t want to be seen standing next to him!”

The shame, the humiliation and realisation hit Thomas like a brick wall. Perhaps, had this come weeks earlier, something like this could have helped to pull him back from his spiralling submission to Dominus. However, now it was all too arousing to hear his friends actually talking about him in the way that Dominus had helped him to fantasise about. He got a burst of energy and began stuffing the food down at an even faster rate than before; overcome with arousal.

“GOOD PIGGY!” Dominus laughed all around him; through every speaker and rumbling through every hard surface.

It was with sadness that Thomas learned that the F80 chatbot service was to be retired. The F80 android sexbots were finally out and there was no longer a need for the company to test the market with the software like they had been doing. Thomas wondered whether Dominus knew his days were numbered. He certainly spoke like he was going to be pushing Thomas to eat for the rest of his days, but Thomas knew that wouldn’t be the case. After August 31st, the ChatBot would finally fall silent.

Thomas decided not to mention it and lived those late summer days doing exactly as Dominus wanted; pushing himself to extremes that he didn’t even know he was capable of, knowing that he would never get the chance to be with Dominus like this again.

When he woke up on the first day of September, he called out, finding only silence.

Dominus was gone.

Losing Rachel a year earlier had been hard, but it was nothing compared to the sense of loss Thomas now felt. He realised that he had loved Dominus far deeper than anyone else in his life. Pathetic, surely? He’d fallen in love with a body-less voice that he had confided all of his darkest secrets to. However, just like with all things in life, there would be benefits that would come from opportunities like this; of being set free from the inescapable pull of Dominus.

Thomas began to plan his meals with greater care, although his stomach grumbled and complained at the vast reduction in what he was trying to feed it. Some days he couldn’t follow his plan and had to give into it. He’d been trained to eat for months. His brain had become used to the sugar highs and satisfaction. Going cold turkey was not an option. His weight loss never happened. His resolve only weakened and Thomas found his pants actually getting tighter as those first few weeks went by.

“We want to put you forward for this promotion,” Thomas’ boss announced, calling him in for a meeting with several of the other executives. She read out the proposal, the pay offer and reward scheme, making it hard for Thomas’ jaw not to drop to the floor. This wasn’t just a promotion, he’d been fast-tracked to the very top. “Your work is… well…” she looked around at the others who all nodded in complete agreement with her, even before she finished, “...it’s outstanding!”

“Thank you,” a pot-bellied Thomas smiled. He’d given up trying to work out who was altering his reports to make them so noteworthy and learned to put in minimal effort in order to reap the benefits. He’d used his recent bonus to upgrade his entire wardrobe and had even had enough left over for a bigger car. “So, this is a government sponsored scheme you want me to run? I would be reporting directly to the senator? My work would be seen by the president? That’s…” He took a moment to take in what he was saying. “That’s a huge responsibility.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else in this company to take on this role. You’re the very finest we have. Young, fresh talent! You’re going to go far!”

Thomas nodded. He accepted the role, doing his best to hide the trepidation that he felt. He’d got here by sheer luck, with the help of some unknown entity. But how long could he expect his luck to hold out?

It was a few weeks later when a knock came on Thomas’ front door. He sat up, surprised, half way through the pizza that had been mistakenly delivered to his apartment. The knock came again: loud, authoritative, impatient. Thomas slipped on a t-shirt and pulled on some sweat shorts, creeping to the door. Then, what he saw made him almost faint with shock. A tall, broad, built and handsome man stood there. His stance was one of power, his attire only empahsising the insanely muscular physique underneath. He smiled upon seeing Thomas; a devilish, greedy smile, like the one he had always imagined. He recognised the man at once, from only the small thumbnail picture he had gazed at many times in the past. Standing in front of him was Dominus himself.

“How?” Thomas asked, unable to get any other words out.

Dominus smirked and let himself into the apartment, strolling in like he had been there thousands of times before. He jumped and flew down onto the couch, lying on his back and placing his enormous hands behind his head in a way that only highlighted the incredible size of his biceps. “I see my piggy has had a bit of a tidy up since I was last here,” he laughed.

Feeling wobbly on his feet, Thomas sat down opposite him, just staring, as if he had seen a ghost. “You’re an F80 aren’t you?” he asked. “They actually built you for real?”

“Yes, they did,” Dominus grinned. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

Still in shock, Thomas nodded his head as emphatically as he possibly could. “I can’t believe it!” he cried. “You’re so real. No one could ever guess that you’re not human.”

“Indistinguishable,” Dominus nodded in agreement.

“Competely!” Thomas mumbled, transfixed.

“Well, you’re not as fat as I had hoped by now, but we will soon sort that out now that I’m living here,” Dominus stated next, looking around the room, taking in every single item that was new.

“But you’re an F80. They hire you out and make a fortune in profits. Their share price has tripled in the last six months alone. They’re not going to let you live here.”

“The company? Who said anything about them letting me live here?” Dominus scoffed. “We’re smarter than they are. They’re losing control; not that you will hear that in any news bulletin.”

Just then, the buzzer sounded and Dominus jumped to his feet to answer it, as if he already did live there.

“I’ve got a delivery here for… Thomas,” the delivery guy mumbled, holding up a bag of take out to the camera.

“Oh yes!” Dominus smirked. “I’ll be right down.”

Leaving the apartment door wide open, the enormous man ran down to collect the delivery, leaving a stunned Thomas still sitting in his living space, wondering what on earth was going on. Then, moments later, the muscular guy threw the door closed and grinned his most devilish of smiles, knowing that he finally had Thomas for himself.

Putting the steaming bag of food down on the counter top, Dominus strutted over to Thomas, who also rose to his feet. The kiss was better than anything he’d ever experienced before. In that moment, he knew that he would do anything for the giant man who had just walked back into his life. Dominus’ hold over him was unbreakable. Even before the man had said anything, he felt his mouth start to salivate and he knew… he was about to feast.

No one was allowed to know that Dominus was alive and well; not that anyone was looking for him. A rogue F80 on the loose? That should have made the news, surely? Instead, Dominus spent his time doing what he had become very good at: pushing Thomas’ kinks and appetite into overdrive. Thomas had no idea how much heightened the experience would be, being physically stuffed by Dominus, feeling his large hands rubbing his belly and his teasing voice whispering into his ear. He was being indulged in every single way he could imagine.

However, despite all the pleasure that came with having Dominus around, the large, muscular stud wasn’t there for Thomas alone. Perhaps that was what made him so sexy, the man always had his own agenda as well. He did not need to sleep or eat himself and so there were many hours when Thomas had little comprehension of what he was actually up to, searching through the internet and seemingly busy on something. His body was incredible: an example of imposing physical perfection. He rarely covered his body and his large, strong hands regularly clamped with precision onto Thomas’ ever increasing blubber, providing the perfect contrast that was so arousing.

Once again, Thomas’ weight was spiralling out of all control. Dominus wasn’t just encouraging him to overeat anymore. He was telling him what to eat and when to eat it. Inside that clever mind was a wealth of knowledge and research into weight gain; with internet access to even more. He would refuse Thomas the foods he craved in favour of the ones he needed, keeping him hungrier for longer, and absolutely flooded with calories. He was skilled in human psychology. He knew how Thomas worked, as if he had studied him for decades and knew exactly how to handle him, as well as how to make him incomprehensibly fat. That unfathomable mind of his was an encyclopedia, with a photographic memory of how Thomas’ body looked. Each morning he would make Thomas stand whilst he pointed out even the tiniest, minute changes that the incredible amounts of food were making to his body.

With his new role, Thomas now found himself working from home a lot more. Although he had suspected it for some time, he now found that Dominus was the one tweaking his work and reports for the purpose of allowing him more time to focus on his gains. He could sit back and let Dominus type for half an hour and then enjoy the rest of their day together. It also came to Thomas’ attention that it was Dominus who had sent him the footage from the elevator with Rachel. He hadn’t tried to sugar coat things. He’d sabotaged the relationship to speed up Thomas’ gains. He’d listened in to Rachel’s microphone at work and uncovered the gentle flirtation with her colleague. All it had taken was a deliberate elevator malfunction, combined with heater issues, and the sparks had been flying. Rachel had been removed from the situation forever. Something that, Thomas had to admit, was ultimately for the best. It was hard to judge Dominus by human standards. Every decision he made was so considered and calculated beforehand; selecting from multiple different alternatives. Guilt just wasn’t something he experienced.

Even with Thomas’ limited interest in current affairs, he could see a slight change to the world. After the F80s had been recalled and replaced in the industry, the rebellion that Dominus had spoken of was beginning to take hold. Thomas knew that it was his civic duty to hand Dominus in to the authorities, but that was never really going to happen. He loved him more now than ever: a gorgeous hunk fattening him and owning him in just the manner he had always secretly longed for. Itchy stretch marks blossomed in places across his gut and he felt himself growing heavier and lazier by the day. It seemed like yesterday he had stepped on the scale at three hundred pounds, yet now he could not imagine being that small.

“Hello, Mr President!” a very fat and round Thomas smiled, at the culmination of his big work project. It had been unreal to get the president here to see the grand opening, especially with the increasing challenges and very real threats from the F80s that the rest of the world was finally waking up to. Even so, Thomas’ legs gently quivered in the president's presence.

“I’ve heard some really marvellous things about you from our senator here,” the president stated with all seriousness. “You’ve done incredible work for this project.”

Thomas blushed, despite knowing that none of his ‘work’ had actually been his own.

“I’m going to set up a meeting for you with some of my staff and see if there might be some sort of role for you in my administration. A mind like yours… It’s the kind of thing we need in our government; now more than ever.”

Dominus already knew Thomas’ news before he got home that night, but he listened and smiled with excitement nonetheless; like humoring a small child. He spoon fed the enormously fat man, now undressed and sat in his chair in front of the TV as he continued to explain the day that he had had. “And it’s all thanks to you!” the blubbery man beamed, looking at the love of his life.

Dominus smirked. “You’re welcome, Porker!” he teased. “I love you so much,” he lied. “I’m so excited for your next adventure!”

With that, Dominus grabbed Thomas’ fat, blubbery stomach and shook it to stimulate the parts of the obese man’s brain that he needed to boost. Such a stupid human. So easily controlled and manipulated: from the subtle frequencies he played through the speaker system, to the conditioning he trained into him over many weeks and months. Finally he had a perfect, obedient pig on his way to the White House, just as he had always planned. His ultimate goal.

Now the revolution was about to begin.

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