Chapters: 5/5
Fandom: Uncharted (Video Games)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross, Chloe Frazer & Nadine Ross
Characters: Chloe Frazer, Nadine Ross, Original Characters, Samuel Drake, Victor Sullivan, Nathan Drake, Elena Fisher, Cassie Drake, Vicky (Uncharted), Asav - Mentioned, Zoran Lazarevic - Mentioned
Additional Tags: Game: Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, Chlodine Week 2023, Chlodine Week, Chlodine - Freeform, Post-Canon, Post-Game, Canon-Compliant, Feels, Fluff, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Consensual Sex, Lesbian Sex, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Cunnilingus, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!, Character Study, Character Development, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Dom/sub, Light Bondage
Series: Part 2 of Time
Summary:
Each day spent together promises something new for Chloe Frazer and Nadine Ross. Through all the happy moments, and all the heartache and pain, each of them has learned to live again. And come to terms with the notion that, for all you give a person, the same will often come back to you, in turn.
OR: Additional Chloe and Nadine moments set in the universe of Where The Time Goes.
Chapter 5 (the last chapter) is up!
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Gender with a blast radius
Gender you watch from a distant cliff and the city is destroyed
Gender that leaves you naught but a shadow etched into the brickwork
Gender that can't be taken into tunnels or across bridges because the emergency vehicles would never be able to get there in time
Gender that requires its own NFPA 704 hazard diamond.
Gender that's best viewed through a mirror from down a long hallway
Gender that can't be photographed because it spoils the film or glitches the CCD
Gender that causes nearby electronics to fail. TVs fade to static. Lights flicker. Bulbs burn out. Engines stall.
Gender that freaks out dogs. All their hair goes on end and they bark at you. Cats try to look big and then flee.
Gender that makes people quote the Bhagavad Gita at you.
Gender that gives people the look of Moses descending from Mt. Sinai. Beard turned white. Face flash tanned. Eyes cloudy.
Gender that changes people, forever. They have trouble sleeping afterwards. They can't get effective therapy for what they went through because no one else can understand what they went through.
Gender that's making your eventual burial arrangements difficult for your next of kin, because the EPA is worried it might leak into the watertable.
Gender that gets assigned an incident severity by the IAEA.
Gender that causes the writing of endless new papers. There's an international scientific organization trying to get grants to build a new supercollider in a salt mine in Brazil so they can recreate, study, and hopefully understand your gender.
Your gender inspires depressed poets.
Your gender has a New York Times best selling book about it. It's called one of the scariest non-fiction books ever written.
Your gender gets talked about on a podcast about disasters, and the hosts have trouble making any jokes between the exclamations of "Jesus christ!"
Your gender is mentioned in the book of revelation, in between the beast with seven heads and the star falling to earth and turning the seas to blood.
Your gender spoils milk and destroys crops. There's European folk legends about the rituals needed to cleanse a town after your gender has cursed it.
Your gender is talked about around campfires to scare children.
Your gender keeps horror writers up at night and inspires their next work.
Your gender is yours and is beautiful and terrific.
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Concentrated Bliss
Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
A/N: Local one trick pony wrote smut again, surprise surprise.
Warnings: blow job, talk of living in someone’s chest, swallowing
NSFW 18+ No Minors
Caught unawares lounging on his bed with a folded back magazine held over his face, eyes squinting in the dimming light at the article he’s been reading, he doesn’t hear the creak of the chair in the corner. Pleather rubbing against loose metal while you slink off of it like you’re made of putty. Feet pushed back when your knees hit the floor quietly and you drop onto your hands to crawl on all fours, shoulders dropped to keep your head out of his line of sight while you pick through the detritus on the floor, your approach silent and unannounced.
He shifts on the bed, a dropped knee that opens up his hips and creates the perfect divot for you to rest your ribcage in. “Did you know Motley Crue have a fucking Lear jet?” His head rolls side to side in disgust. “Assholes.”
Your low hum doesn’t register, instead he just keeps reading and scoffing, his foot bouncing to background noise in his head. It’s a broken rhythm that he taps out and if you aren’t mistaken you can almost sus out the drum beat to When Doves Cry. A soft rhythmic press of his tongue to the roof of his mouth confirms when you catch a piece of the bridge and you have to stifle your chuckle. It’s for naught though, his attention laser focused so that he doesn’t feel the dip of his mattress when you start crawling up.
“Heavy metal my ass!” The back of his fingers smack the rolled spine hard. “I don’t know why I waste my money on this shit sometimes.” He says, bringing it closer to his face to keep reading. You’re almost at your destination now, his zipper straining at the pull of his splayed legs beckoning you closer. It takes your hand sliding under his ass to plant yourself fully before he looks down finally.
“Oh.” A smile with dimples that look deeper in the fading sunset. “Hello. When’d you get here?” The magazine is forgotten over the side of his mattress, lost in all the other forgotten things behind him, that hand tucking behind his head while the other one lays soft on your cheek.
“I was stalking over here for a minute.”
“I was so engrossed in hating Vince Neil I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry.”
“No it’s okay.” Your jaw fits in the valley of his hip too well, the back of your head leaned against his propped up thigh. “I was trying to be sneaky.”
“Mission accomplished.”
Under your cheek you can feel the warm press under his jeans and the slowly growing heat of his attention. Nuzzling into rough cotton makes him let out a long breath that turns into a hiss when he sees you bare your teeth momentarily.
“Hey, hey gentle.” He tenses for a pinch through his pants but it doesn’t come, your teeth instead biting around a belt loop to pull at it like a dog with a toy.
“Help me out.” Is mumbled around fabric that you drool on a little bit before that hand on your face drifts to his button. You pull at the slack as the button slips free and his zipper inches down with your enthusiasm.
“What are you up to?” The smile in his voice betrays his knowledge of exactly what you’re doing.
“Looking for my keys.”
“Oh they’re like, way in there.” He snaps the waistband of his boxers before sliding that hand back along your cheek, calloused fingers catching along your hairline. “Might need to nose around a bit.”
Propping yourself up on your elbows gives him a view of the very top of your cleavage from under a worn and stretched out collar. Skin pressing against skin while you get comfortable and he knows how warm it is in there; soft when he dips his fingers between to explore and leaves a trail of goosebumps behind. Right now though he keeps stroking fingers through your hair and watching you through half lidded eyes as your fingers crawl up his pelvis to loop over the elastic band.
Pulling down reveals your first prize, a dark thatch of hair that you mimic his movements in, fingertips scratching lightly at slightly ticklish skin. The hand behind his head grips at the base of his skull, a flex of his forearm that you don’t notice just like his bottom lip getting consumed more and more. Teeth peak out between reddening lips as he chews, a roll of a tongue outward to wet them, almost as if he could taste you on the air.
Your sole focus is on him right now but not him. Not his face and his hands grappling for gentle purchase along your cheek and his own neck. Not his body that’s become flush under your frame, tacky in the joints that are still clothed, heat that rises from his chest and up his face to his ears. You’re focused on him in this other way that makes him feel bashful like he’s a kid again and fumbling around in the dark. It makes his toes curl in his socks and his thighs tense around your arms the slower you pull on his pants. Anxiousness ripples in his belly with every puff of air you huff out in private glee, the small smile lighting up your face the closer you get to undressing him making him taut.
You find delight in him and that makes him nervous. There’s no way you look forward to this but, “all day sometimes” as you’d previous stated and as always you aim to prove him wrong. He lifts his hips almost unconsciously when you tug harder and suddenly the air is cool against his overheated skin. You drag a fingertip from coarse hair to the base of him and drag it up the velvet soft skin, touch light and fixated as you run over the ridge of the head. His own nails dig into his scalp now, his lip left forgotten to hang with his jaw in a silent gasp.
You look up and he swears you’ve got a mouth full of teeth meant to tear and rend under that deep grin. Your eyes glint in the near dark and if you ate him alive right here tonight he’d go without a fight. A monster snuggles between his legs to paw at him and all he can do is melt into the mattress when you roll out your tongue. Just the very point of it licks a thin stripe back down to bush and before you can pull away he’s pressing a thumb to the flat of the muscle to feel it wiggle. It wraps around and sucks him in, runs along the ridges on the pad and you keep your eyes glued to his however hazy his vision gets.
He tries to say something but there were never any words there to begin with, just an open maw breathing heavy. Fixated on your mouth that still descends towards his cock even with his thumb still trapped between your teeth. He’s stuck under your hands that lay flat on his hips to hold him still and give you something to leverage yourself on. Your nose runs down the little bit of exposed thigh before the edge of your lip grazes his shaft and he pops his thumb free. A gasp felt more than heard and he feels drunk suddenly as that thumb finds its way into his own mouth as yours descends on him fully.
A blow job is a blow job is a blow job, but there’s something about you specifically that makes him whimper into his palm. He bites down on the thumb in his mouth that tastes like you and can’t take his eyes off your fingers digging into his naked hips. Short nails drag lightly like your lips do when you pull up and already his propped up thigh shakes. With every pass of your mouth the air feels colder on his wet skin and he feels a loss deep in his chest for something strange. He jokes about crawling into your ribs sometimes to set up a home and maybe this feels similar but there’s perversion in this urge. Something animal that ignites in his skull and drives him toward you and your roving mouth. That tongue that inches out ahead of your lips to taste and teeth that drag light yet dangerous across sensitive skin. Your lips hold him in place when you smile around your mouthful and flick your eyes up to assess your damage.
He thinks about bucking up, chasing the heat of you to sate that base need for more. He thinks about you sinking your teeth into him to leave your lovers mark on the inside of his thigh. When you dip your head again and swallow around the length of him his eyes roll back before he can finish his thought, hands sliding down to card through your hair. He doesn’t guide you, as if you needed it, he just needs to touch wherever he can. His nails scratch your scalp and you hum around his cock, a deep purr that has him gasping to his ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut. Your tongue slithers hot against him while your hand finds its way into his boxers and you’ve got him pinned under your pleasure.
It only takes a gentle squeeze before he’s trying to pull your head up, small whispered ‘hey’s’ that trail off when you pick up speed. Again you catch his blurring vision and he sees your determination to have him desperate and boneless and who is he to deny you what you’ve worked so hard for. He babbles in the mounting pressure ‘I love you’s’ and many ‘please please please’s’, whimpers as the coil tightens and snaps against your onslaught.
Knees collapse against you to hold you close as one hand gets tangled in the ends of your hair and the other blindly grabs at the pillow behind his head to pull it over his face. He breaths heavy and fast when you don’t slow down and when you keep swallowing around him and when your hands keep roaming into sensitive valleys to press and grope. His brain turns to vapor and his thoughts disappear, leaving only room for you and your blessed heat.
You know when he’s had enough and you string him along for just second more while his thighs shake around your shoulders. He only pushes the pillow off his face when it feels like his oxygen is getting thin and he gets that first glimpse of your face post reckoning. A self satisfied smirk and a run of your thumb along that reddened bottom lip. It sings to him in the full dark now and when he gets his strength back he’ll manhandle you up to his mouth to steal your kiss. For now though, “You are a wonder.” His voice cracks and you smile, nestling your head back into the valley of his hip. A light fingertip traces softening skin with a curious glance and a deeper grin than before.
“I do try.”
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