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starkidmunson · 1 month

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glitter & crimson

Time passes in ways Eddie doesn’t fully understand, in the aftermath of Steve’s injury.

A few days are spent lounging around the hotel room with Steve drifting in and out of sleep, for the most part. Then they graduate to small day trips. Squeeze in some touristy shit; museums and landmarks not too far from the hotel, in case Steve gets a migraine or starts feeling nauseous.

Day 6 features a follow-up at the hospital, where Steve is told the bandage is no longer necessary to cover the worst of the injury, surgery won’t be necessary, and he’s clear to fly home or wherever else he wants to go. Which means Eddie is also free to leave LA, but he’s already stuck it out this long, so he decides to continue to follow Steve’s lead and spend another day.

He gets a call from Steve before he leaves his hotel room on Day 7, informing him that Max is leading a trip to the beach before they leave California again. Steve insists it’s the least he can do since Lucas flew out to spend the last few days with her, so she could stick around until Steve was clear to travel again.

And that’s how Eddie finds himself wearing lavender board shorts from the surf shop that looked the least like a tourist trap, dousing himself with an entire bottle of the highest SPF he can find before stepping out of the store. His black ripped jeans and the Judas Priest shirt he’d worn, not anticipating a trip to the beach, are folded into the bottom of a large tote Robin is carrying with ease, as she picks out towels for everyone to lounge on. She catches sight of him and raises an eyebrow, but he holds his hand up to stop any commentary.

“Black is just going to make me burn even more than I’m already going to burn, and the blue pair I liked were the wrong size, so lavender it is.” He defends, but she just shrugs at him, keeps smiling and walks over to pay for the towels and her bathing suit.

Behind Eddie, Lucas clears his throat. He spins to find Steve, blushing and glaring at Lucas, who’s grinning.

“What? Don’t tell me I need to defend the trunks to you guys, too. I thought you’d be on my side.” He whines.

“Oh, I don’t think Steve has any issue with your shorts. Or lack of a top.” Lucas teases, then laughs as Steve swings a soft punch into his shoulder.

“I just…” Steve trails off, turning his attention back to Eddie and Eddie can see the heat rise from Steve’s cheeks up to the tips of his ears, coloring him a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t realize how many tattoos you actually have, I guess.” He eventually settles on, before immediately occupying himself with finding sunscreen.

Eddie lets it slide, and they all pay for what they need, before crossing the street and trekking toward the water. Max is the first to toss her shorts and sandals into a pile, running toward the ocean and diving into the first wave she encounters. Lucas is just a step behind her, and he’s quick to catch her waist and throw the two of them back into the water just as she’s resurfacing.

Robin shoves a rented umbrella into the sand and Eddie helps expand it, as Steve lays out his towel so his face is covered by the umbrella’s shade, but his torso down is exposed to the sun. Eddie, on the other hand, huddles up so most of his body is concealed by the umbrella.

“Oh shit, dude, I didn’t even think to ask. Are you worried about getting seen out here or something?” Steve asks, and Eddie frowns. It takes a moment before he realizes it probably seems like he’s hiding from any potential paparazzi.

“I get bothered so little by media that I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m being honest.” Eddie shakes his head but smiles at how thoughtful Steve is. “I’m just a little too pasty to trust the sun on a cloudy day, so direct exposure like this always makes me nervous. But I like laying in the sand and I’m happy you wanted me to tag along. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he assures Steve, who smiles at him until Robin mocks a gagging noise and makes them both blush and look away from one another.

The salt air and crescendo of waves and bellowing laughter kick up a surprising amount of inspiration for Eddie, and he fishes his phone out of Robin’s bag, typing away while she and Steve sunbathe.

He’s so caught up in the piece he’s working out that he doesn’t realize anyone has spoken to him until Steve’s pressing a hand to his knee, looking a little concerned.

“What? Sorry, I got an idea and I had to get it out before I forgot about it.” He mumbles, typing out his final thoughts before giving Steve his full attention.

“We’re going to return the umbrella and grab food before heading back to the hotel to pack up, if you’re hungry?” Steve asks, smiling at Eddie. He looks back at his phone to realize their hour with the rented umbrella is nearly up, so he nods and helps clean up the space they’d taken over, before they find a beachfront restaurant that doesn’t mind that none of the guys are wearing shirts, or that Max’s hair is still dripping wet, leaving a trail behind her as they move to their seats.

Once they’ve eaten, they go back to the hotel. Eddie asks if he can shower to get the sand out of his hair before he changes back into the clothes he’d had on pre-trip to the beach. When he re-enters the room, almost everything is packed up and Robin is on the balcony, talking on the phone.

“Nancy called,” Steve explains from the sofa, as Eddie flops beside him, towel-drying his hair gently. He hadn’t bothered to put his shirt on yet, not wanting his hair to make it all wet while it air dries. “Did they hurt?”

“Hm?” Eddie’s confused instantly, looking at Steve before realizing he’s eyeing the tattoos across his chest. “Some of ‘em more than others, yeah. But it’s a good kind of hurt.” Eddie explains, and Steve frowns, but that’s okay because Eddie knows not everyone gets what he means whenever he explains the tattooing experience like that. “It’s… kinda like if you have itchy sunburn and you accidentally scratch it? It feels good to have scratched it, but it also hurts.” When Steve still looks confused, it’s Eddie’s turn to frown. He looks over Steve’s exposed arms and takes in the soft golden color they’ve turned and his eyes narrow. “Do not tell me you’re one of those genetic anomalies that doesn’t sunburn and always has a perfect tan, Stevie.”

Now Steve is grinning, throwing a shrug in Eddie’s direction. “Blame it on the 8 years of swim club during the summer off-season.” Steve laughs as an explanation, and Eddie instantly wants to know more about everything Steve has ever done in his life, but doesn’t know where to draw the line at how much is too much to ask to know, so he ultimately doesn’t ask for any further information. Which is fine, because Steve is leaning closer and taking hold of his left forearm, twisting it and tracing a finger along a snake that wraps around his skin. “Do they have meanings?”

“Some of them, yeah. Some of them I just got because I liked how they look.” Eddie admits, watching Steve’s fingers trace along the delicate lines of the snake. “That one’s got its mouth open like it’s hissing and about to bite.” Eddie considers what comes next, and decides to just lay it all out on the table. Steve had been open and honest with him, Eddie could return the favor. “Snakes are supposed to be a symbol of inner strength and perseverance, and they look sick. I got it after my first stint in rehab.”

Steve doesn’t falter, doesn’t even blink, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he would think Steve had already known about his trips to rehab before he’d said anything. Instead, he moves on to trace a blackout band around Eddie’s bicep. “Do any of them have stories you want to share? You don’t have to if it’s too personal.”

He’s stunned to silence for a moment, something that doesn’t often happen to Eddie. But he’s so used to everyone pressing to hear more about rehab and addiction and recovery that his brain physically needs a moment to catch up to Steve. “Oh. Uh. I mean, the one you’re touching doesn’t have a meaning or story, I just liked how it looks.” Eddie thinks for a moment, then, before he holds out the inside of his right forearm. “This one is a puppet master. Master of Puppets is my favorite Metallica song, and when I learned to play it is when I realized that music could actually be a career path for me.” They run through a few other tattoos; the Wyvern, the spider, the “you bow to no one” in elvish down his spine. While still working up the courage to tell Steve more, he switches his approach. “Do you have any tattoos? Or have you ever wanted any?”

“I’ve never thought about it in a serious way, because I’m not sure I’d like having something on me permanently like that.” Steve shrugs, flipping his arm over to point at his right wrist. “The few times I’ve thought about it, it’s been like. A robin, here. The Roman numerals for 94 somewhere. That kind of stuff.”

Eddie smiles softly, nods. “It’s adorable that you’d want one for Robin.” He teases and lets the moment breathe for a moment before he circles back to the tattoo of the snake. “I’m not ashamed of my story, or my history, but we hadn’t really talked about, you know. That aspect of things, yet. But, I mean. I made terrible choices when I was younger, and I got in over my head with drugs harder than I realized. And it’s happened more than once. And I’m not naive enough to think I’m magically cured because drugs haven’t raised an issue for me over the last few years. But I’ve been mostly sober for almost 4 years.”

“Mostly?” Steve asks, concern clear in how softly he speaks, and Eddie can’t help but grin and shrug a little.

“Still some weed sometimes. Still drink beer sometimes. Both in moderation, not anything out of control. It, uh, probably sounds weird but those weren’t substances I had issues with, so I don’t… I don’t really think about drinking or smoking as cheating, but I know some programs would call it that way.” He shrugs, and Steve nods, processing the information.

“Well, thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s probably not easy to talk about, but. I learned a few new things about you today.” He offers with a little smile, and Eddie nods back. They slip back into silence, until Robin slips back into the room, looking between the two of them expectantly.

“Did you ask him?” She asks, and when Eddie turns his attention to Steve, he flushes.

“No, I uh…” He trails off, picking at a fingernail before looking up at Eddie, then back down at his hands. “We’re flying back to Chicago tomorrow, and we were wondering if you had your plans set for heading back to Nashville?”

“Oh, yeah. When you guys initially said you’d be leaving tomorrow, I booked a flight home for tomorrow afternoon.” He says and watches Steve’s lack of reaction. Wonders if he should have asked about joining them in Chicago until Steve gives an awkward smile.

“Right, that makes sense.” He nods. “Well, we can all head to the airport together, at least?”

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie agrees, turning to look at Robin in the hopes of finding an explanation, but she turns away to take her turn in the shower, leaving Steve and Eddie together on the sofa.

~~~

Gareth picks Eddie up from the airport once he’s touched down in Nashville, and they head back to his house. Eddie throws himself into the comfort of his sofa, huddling up to a pillow with the intention of taking a nap, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he smiles.

Stevie: Dustin has taken over the apartment, but we’re home. Hope you got home safe, too.

“Why are you smiling?” Gareth asks as Eddie is typing out his response.

“I’m not smiling,” Eddie responds instantly, schooling his expression and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, so Steve texted you,” Gareth says, matter-of-factly, before scrolling on his own phone. “Want to order food? I’m hungry and you don’t have anything edible.”

“Why do you assume Steve texted me?” Eddie asks, frowning and sitting up straighter.

Gareth raises his eyebrow and glances over his phone at Eddie before he sighs. “Because you were making that face you’ve been making for the last month every time you text him, and you just got home from a week with him, so obviously he’s texting you again. Your turn to answer; food?”

Eddie stares at Gareth for a moment, watches as he turns his phone around to face Eddie, showing off the Uber Eats screen, before he scoffs and takes the phone to place his order. Before he hands it back to Gareth, though, he holds it just out of his reach. “What face am I making?”

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t play dumb.” Gareth laughs, but Eddie frowns deeper. Gareth frowns back, then. “You really haven’t put it together?”

“Put what together?” Eddie asks, finally handing Gareth his phone back. Gareth takes it, but doesn’t look away from Eddie until he answers.

“Dude, you’re in love with him.” He says, like it’s obvious, before going about placing his own order.

Eddie thinks for a moment. He knows he has feelings for Steve; finds him attractive and interesting and definitely wants to see if something is there. But to know that his friends can see through him puts him on edge, makes him defensive. “I’m not in love with him, we’re just friends.”

“Eddie,” Gareth laughs before he sees the serious look on Eddie’s face and he sighs. “Look, man. I’m not trying to start a fight or make you spiral or anything. I’m just saying. You leaned into a TikTok trend for him, voluntarily learned about the sport he plays, helped nurse him back to health after he got hurt and spent an extra week in LA to be with him longer. And now you’re texting him, again, like you did after we left Chicago. There’s something there, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe it’s not love yet, but that’s where it’s heading.”

Silence settles over them, just the sound of Gareth’s short nails tapping against the screen of his phone, for a long moment. Eddie processes what he’s said, thinks it over, before flipping back to the text messages from Steve. He reads the words over and over before he decides on an answer.

Eddie: Glad you’re home safe. Miss you already.

He doesn’t have to wait long for a response, as Steve answers no more than two minutes later.

Steve: I miss you already, too, Eds.

Eddie considers responding but decides to tuck the phone back into his pocket instead. He drums his fingers against his knee, settling into a melody before he nudges Gareth’s leg with his foot.

“Wanna help me set up the studio downstairs while we wait for the food?”

Gareth meets his look, raising an eyebrow. “Inspiration strikes over Steve Harrington?”

“I’ve got, like, four different ideas I started fleshing out in LA without instruments,” Eddie answers instead and ignores the smug look on Gareth’s face as they stand and make their way to the basement Eddie converted into a recording studio to get it ready while their food is delivered.

#glitter & crimson #hockey player!steve harrington #rockstar!eddie munson #steddie au #gareth #corroded coffin #lumax #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #starkidmunson writes #tw: mention of addiction #tw: mention of rehab #if there's anything in here anyone ever thinks i should tag #just tell me pls #thanks for reading!

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

#this got long sorry #but it had to be said!!!#I don't think ive ever seen someone do this before but if they have pls tell me #bc I wanna read more about it #I said the same for bear bkg and im so sad its not more popular to be written about a lot :(#anyway catch me in my hybrid lover era again LOL #first the whole bull farm and now this #and to think I got so tired of the idea bc so many people would come to me about it #sigh what a full circle moment lmfao #anyway I wrote this on my computer and I swear I wrote it faster here than I would have on the phone #typing on my phone gives me like motion sickness or something idk but I hate it #okay bye im gonna go write the fic that won in my last poll lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#tw: knots

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on-leatheredwings · 2 months

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Baby-trapping you say? 👀

baby trapping i say!!!

maybe i should say its specifically stealthing [picks nose]? he doesnt really care to 'trap' you because he literally just believes you're endgame

sneak peek bc god im tired of writing:

tw: weird ideals about fertile (cis) women, intent to stealth, implied/tangential somnophilia (???) and other yandere-typical behavior

18+ only, Damian Wayne is 21

He does want to be with you above anything, and if children were out of the question due to natural causes… sure, he would learn to get over it. His brothers are all adopted and are as legitimate heirs to his father as he. But as it stands, Damian needs an heir someday and he knows your body can provide that.

A part of him, a part that’s been planted in him since his childhood, quietly admits that he simply wants his children to be blood. He was taught that he was the result of two genetically perfect individuals – Bruce Wayne the Batman and Talia al Ghul, Daughter of the Demon’s Head.

So why shouldn’t his child be the genetic amalgamation of you and him? The thought of impregnating you sounds… good. Ideal. Natural, even. Call him a romantic.

Back from class, you decided to read on his living room recliner while he drew in his study. He indeed sketched, as he did everyday, but he also wanted to check if today was the day he thought it was. Damian opens the drawer of his wooden desk, papers neatly filed. He picks up a sleek black folder.

When opened, inside is a calendar for the year, with no notes or writing. The days are simply blank or highlighted in either red or green.

His eyes skirt down to the current day of the calendar, and Damian's pleased to see it is indeed among a week that's painted in green. You've ovulated, and the six days afterward are an ideal window.

You've said in passing that your cycle is pleasantly regular and Damian's past investigations have proved this to be true. He doesn’t ask anymore. He snorts, remembering how last time you looked at him incredulously and asked if he was a Republican, since he was “all up in your womb.”

However, you do keep menstrual products in your bag when he’s predicted it. You also spend quite some time at his place, so he does note when there’s pad wrappers in his bathroom trash bin.

Last year, the day he knew you were the one, his One, he brewed you a tea before bed. Its sedative contents ensured you wouldn't wake. So, Damian pulled off your pants, and collected a sample from you as you slept. Of course, he did so with sterile, sexless precision – Damian wasn’t a pervert or deviant. He sniffs. He’s better than that. Even if his hands did linger.

Test results proved you were healthy and fertile. He remembers being proud. As expected, you were perfect in all things.

#yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #i dont think ill be tagging shit ngl pls just read the tw's #stay safe </3 #also damian took the sample before yall even started dating #hes a crazy person

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sirmanmister · 1 day

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💥💥💥 BOOM POW GET KILLED GET KILLED GET KILLED!!!!!

This is a redraw from January 6 2023, in honour of it being 1 YEAR since I posted the last chapter of The Father(s) and Son(s)!!!!! A little bit over a year actually because it was April 10th and it took me a little while to draw this lol

So much has changed in the span of a year omg. And for THE BETTER?? Like I’m going to school, I made and lost friends, I’m slowly but surely getting over some social anxiety (still a wip tho!!! 😭😭) and I’ve found so many cool mutuals and artists and just!!!! AAA!! Not to mention my art skills have improved a whole HELL of a lot!! LMAO

I don’t write as much as I did when I wrote my fic initially, and I feel bad for that sometimes, but it’s just a testament to how things have gotten a lot better for me and it’s not bad that I’m busy. I’m still trying to cobble together some more writing to eventually get another fic out, cuz I do genuinely miss it, but we’ll get there when we get there!

Anyway. TYSM TO EVERYBODY THATS STUCK AROUND FOR SO LONG/CAME HERE FROM MY FIC IN THE FIRST PLACE I LOVE YOU ALL AND YOU MADE MY LIFE BETTER!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Pspsps closeups/old pic under the cut!!

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inspectorcrayon · 6 months

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i know it's been days since the reanimator movie's anniversary but that's not gonna stop me. (i got way too ambitious with the pic that's why it took so long to finish) Happy 38 years of Re-Animator ig and it's the spooky season so yeh

DISCLAIMER: If you plan to watch Re-Animator, please check for the trigger warnings! There’s a disturbing scene near the end.

#crayo art #halloween #reanimator 1985 #Reanimator #Re-animator #herbert west #daniel cain #francesca danieli #bride of reanimator #tw body horror #tw blood #tw blood (gore)#tw gore #happy re-anniversary people!#i was expecting to work with greens and blues #but i noticed that reani 2 has more scenes with red lighthing and i think that's interesting #needles #blood #tumblr pls can we get the option to spoiler images without shoving them under 'read more'

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iaxsl · 3 months

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Modern au where Sanji and Luffy fall in love while Sanji is engaged. Similar to the events of WCI, Sanji is in a forced business marriage. A merger of Germa Tech. and LinLin Industries. Sanji has no feelings of hatred, he accepts since that is what he’s supposed to do, and who knows, maybe he will fall in love with whomever he’s engaged to. At least then, he’ll be able to leave his family. He signs up at a gym after snide remarks from his family about his weight and meets Luffy as he struggles with one of the machines. Luffy is pure sunshine, and Sanji envies that; he seems so free. Luffy is a personal trainer part-time and a semi-pro boxer. As they spend more time together, Sanji starts to realize that he’s falling more and more in love with Luffy (for added drama, he maybe doesn’t tell Luffy that he’s engaged). Luffy falls first; he tells Sanji as such after Sanji cooks for him for the first time (maybe as a thank you, but also as an excuse to spend more time together). Sanji is hesitant, though he feels the same way, but Luffy doesn’t give up. Somehow, Sanji’s family realizes what’s happening, and they find Luffy. They threaten him and attempt to silence him, Luffy fights back and wins (obviously). He goes to talk to Sanji, and Sanji finally tells Luffy everything. Luffy gets upset, not at Sanji, but at his family and wishes he beat up the goons they sent even harder. Luffy and Sanji meet up with the smartest person Luffy knows (Nami), and together, they come up with a solution. Something something, Sanji finally confronts his family and gets together with Luffy.

#picturing Reiju as having left the family years prior and regrets not taking Sanji with her. so maybe there's a scene where they reconnect #anyways pls tell me something like this exists somewhere #or if someone that writes wants to take this then please go for it!! and also let me know so I can read it #tbh could be any sanji ship but I just really love sanlu #sanlu #black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #sanji #luffy #one piece #oh also ->#tw weight #tw body insecurity #the vinsmokes suck

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aarontaylorsjohnson · 6 days

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i can write screeds about TTPD dabbling in mental illness fetishistic aesthetic but tbh i care far more about the misogynoir tied up in the Healy apologism. No one has articulated it as well as the author of this Medium piece, in my opinion.

I don't need to add much except I use the phrase "human trafficking" for what the author calls "torture p*rn," because based on what I've read those women were drugged, abused, addicted, manipulated, deceived, and in some cases, took their own lives.

But sure he's a 'wild boy' with 'calloused hands,' a 'cowboy like [her].'

Show you proof of her racism? The proof is in the undercooked lyrics of TTPD and attempt to reframe the criticism of the fans as "they just don't like it when I date a Bad Boy (TM)."

#this is such a powerful and articulate piece #pls read #there will be no further explanation #just white justification (by cultist fans)#sadly #anti taylor swift #tw mental health #tw abuse #tw racism #tw human trafficking #tw suicide

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sky-neverending · 3 months

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Survivors Regret- Febuwhump Day 1

for @febuwhump day one - Helpless

Rating: T | TWS: Self-harm, bullying, homophobia/homophobic language, hospitals, self-deprecating thoughts, typical Charlie things. | Fandom: Heartstoppers | WC: 924 | Pre-canon

Summary: When the kids at school find out Charlie is gay, his life goes to hell. He figures he deserves it.

Link: Survivors Regret - sky_neverending - Heartstopper (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

#sky writes #febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #heartstopper #pls read the tws

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opens-up-4-nobody · 10 months

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Aough. Rewatched Goodbye, Farwell, and Amen today...

#its fucked up. the goodbyes on the show hurt me more than my irl goodbyes will when i move in a week #tho when i said goodbye to my boss i was like this is the last time ill see u in person for some undetermined time after 4 years of working #together and she was like yep unless we're both at a conference. and i all i could think of was this scene lol #i think were more likely to end up at a conference together than these 2 tho lol #mash #m*a*s*h #bj hunnicutt #hawkeye pierce #benjamin franklin pierce #lol my shitty handwriting. tho at least its not bad enough to have my boss b like pls pls we need to b able to read the sampling bags #bc someone in my lab has handwriting that bad #tw blood #hunnihawk

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theangelofangst · 26 days

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For those of my moots who may or may not see this. This is the kind of stuff I’ve been dealing with for a while and my good friend @brightlotusmoon has brought to my attention that they have also been dealing with this person as well likely even longer then me.

I don’t normally do this type of thing but it’s gotten to the point where it’s now excessive and I’m tired of it. This kind of behavior is never okay there is no excuse for it.

Please, if I can ask anything, look after each other and be there for one another, cuz when stuff like this happens, having support always helps a great deal.

#tw harassment #anon harassment #bullying #pls scroll passed and don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable #online harassment #apologies in advance I wish I could censor the whole image where one can only see it if they click on it #but that’s not something tumblr has to my knowledge

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tarteggs · 4 months

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room 276

#bibliomania #bibliomania manga #tw body horror #my art #lmk if anything else needs to be tagged u_u #this took so long…LOL #i’ve been working on it for like. two weeks but i’ve been wanting to draw it for MONTHS #it’s also probably the edgiest thing i’ve drawn. hm #i feel like..the dark evil fucked up hamburger helper mascot tweet….#BUT STILL IT WAS FUN TO DRAW #i also loooove drawing skulls….something abt it is so satisfying to me #maybe cuz of how clinical ??? it is???? IDK #anyways ummm. um #pls read bibliomania it’s very good :D #also if u saw me post this last night. NO U DIDNT <3

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Kink Bingo - Praise Kink

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1, 765

Tags: Dead dove, WHUMP?, Hydra Trash Party, Mentioned rape, Dub-con, confused WS murder meow meow, hydra!handler!reader, praise kink, touch starved Buck, hand jobs, He’s Just Super Sensitive Blame The Serum, crying what’s new, she loves him in the worst way possible

A/N: I haven’t really written something dark like this in awhile so WARNING! The one Russian translation is thanks commander. Poor Bucky but he gets petted and praised by an insane Soviet for a little bit. Subtle Steeb reference at the end. Listened to gimme danger the entire time.

You leaned back in the stiff leather chair, waiting for your delivery. Strike team was bringing the asset to your office at some point. Your mouth pinched at the thought— they played too rough with the poor thing. Soldat was the fist of Hydra, not a common whore. You didn’t like the Americans very much, but Karpov had sent you along with the asset to get adjusted to being under Alexander Pierce’s control.

So you handled your precious boy until the Americans grew tired of you. They’d already beaten the little life the asset had left into a pulp. He was even more quiet and confused than in Siberia. You’d give him some peace before being discarded, hopefully by the greatest creation of Hydra.

The door opened, the young agent Rumlow shoving the asset inside with an irritated noise. You raised a brow at Soldat’s state— bloodied and bruised moreso than the average mission. Rumlow barked, “He didn’t listen, stupid fuck needs to get wiped again. Got punished, so stop looking at me like that Komandir.”

“Fuck off,” you hissed.

Rumlow slammed the door with a scoff. Your precious soldat stumbled forward dazedly. He knew the drill even between countless wipes, come report to the handler after a mission. Soldat limped forward and kneeled between your legs, wide blues looking up blankly. His nose was bruised, one of his eyes bloodshot and blackened.

You frowned and carded a gentle hand through his thick brown locks, sighing softly. His jaw twitched, throat bobbed. You stated, “Status report.”

His robotic reply came quickly, “Fractured left orbital, nasal fracture, broken anterior ribs nine and ten. Palatal Petechiae, anal fissure.”

You almost hissed at the last part. The strike team was a bunch of mongrel deviants, using the asset to sate their primal urges. With a coo you placed both hands on his cheeks, carefully thumbing over his black eye.

“Baby, poor baby,” you simpered. His wide eyes searched your face, glassing over with tears. You lied, “Those strike team boys are dogs. You’re just so pretty they can’t help themselves.” Soldat whined sadly through his swollen nose, guilty gaze flicking to the ground.

“I didn’t listen- I- I need maintenance,” he said.

He thought he deserved it. He probably didn’t, they just searched for ways to inflict torture. Nasty American pigs. You would make soldat feel better in the meantime. He loved praise and petting, baby was so touch starved. Vasily had taught you that about the asset. Said it makes him more obedient in close quarters because he gets so overstimulated and needy.

“Soldier,” you sweetly said, “You’ll get your maintenance soon. Let your handler take care of her precious star.”

You moved your hands to gently scratch at his scalp, frowning at the pieces that were obviously ripped out using force. You murmured, “How did they use you?” Soldat had to open his hazy eyes, almost purring at your ministrations.

“They used my anus and throat. Multiple members of Strike team Alpha,” he rasped oh-so-quiet. You bit back another hiss, focusing on untangling his dark locks.

You liked the way his English sounded. Your accent was thick and guttural. The asset’s English was soft-spoken, lilting, pretty. You knew it was his native tongue long ago. Pierce told you to stop speaking Russian with Soldat, who currently leaned into your touch, quivering muscles settling down. His injuries would be slowly knitting up— the bruises would be a couple of days, the broken bones a couple more.

Soldat was perfect like that. You ordered, “Just relax precious, if you can.” He nodded obediently, stable hands clasped behind. You worked on the multiple buckles and zips caging in his finely tuned body. Soldat’s titanium arm clicked and clacked in the quiet room, the only noise besides the hum of the A/C.

You peeled off the tight leather from his torso, sucking in a breath at the bruising. You sighed again, “My poor baby, they did a number hm?” He nodded slowly, lips trembling. You rubbed at the knots in his thick shoulders, the asset moaning softly. He never got very loud, but the cries and sniffles when he came were divine.

“Such a pretty angel baby, I know you did great, you always do.”

He vaguely nodded, a half-assed jerk of his pretty jaw. The soldier whimpered, “C-commander please.” His swollen red lips still pouted and shook, sobs threatening to rip out of his sore throat. You purred, “Do you want a reward soldier? Sweet baby.”

“Mhm,” he croaked.

You eyed his peaked nipples and straining bulge in his cargo pants. He had a pretty cock, flushed and thick, just huge, like the rest of him. You unbuckled his belt easily, sliding the pants down strong thighs. They even quivered under your attentions. You couldn’t help the quirk of your lips at soldat gasping when his swollen cock slapped his toned stomach.

You pressed soft kisses to his neck and jaw, wandering hands paying mind to the broken parts of his body. Awkwardly you ushered the naked asset up, leading him forward to sit on your desk. His thighs tantalizingly spread out when he sat down with a wince. You apologized, “So sorry sweet boy, I’ll make it better then you’ll get some rest.”

“спасибо командир,” he murmured.

You chided, lips ghosting over his own, “No Russian, remember baby? I know the Americans are confusing.”

His lips puckered eagerly, waiting for a kiss. You closed the distance, winding a hand into his long locks. You rubbed soothing circles while sharing his lips in slowed smacks. The asset liked everything slow, you figured it kept him relaxed. Nothing like the jackhammering cocks of the disgusting strike team.

He whined happily into your mouth, arching into your body. You smiled, sweet thing wanted his tits touched but wouldn’t dare to ask. So you did it for him, “You want me to play with your tits baby? My needy star.” He nodded frantically, chasing your lips to crash back against his.

You slid the hand from his hair and hip to rub wide circles on his built pecs.

Then you ran your thumbs in tight motions on his dusky nubs, so fucking gentle like your super-soldier pet would break. You knew he would if he could. The asset shivered, a thin whine of ‘commandeeerrr’ elicited instead. You clenched your thighs to dull the ache. You never fucked the asset. Just played with him until he got his sweet release.

You weren’t like the thugs here taking and taking. Soldat needed you like the oxygen in the air. He needed some sort of twisted love in his lonely life. You sucked on his tongue to abate the pang in your chest from the thought of abandoning your sweet boy.

Soldat’s arm shifted and whined in random intervals— signals just as overwhelmed as the rest of him. You kept up the assault on his nipples, the poor thing’s drool making your kiss grow sloppier and wetter. He mewled into the lazy movements, hands trembling. You murmured, “You can touch baby boy.”

You almost squeaked at the feeling of his big hands groping your ass. He tried to be gentle but soldat rarely knew his own strength. You’d cherish the usual mottling of your skin afterward. He brokenly panted, “Commander, feels…s’good. Thank you.” His dark lashes fluttered when you pinched his now swollen peaks, full lips hanging wide open in ecstasy.

“No need to thank me precious, I know my perfect boy needs it. Do you want me to play with your pretty cock?”

He let out a mournful noise— huge arms pulling you even closer. Soldat would probably latch onto you like a puppy if he didn’t have orders. He pled, “Will you, pl-please please.” The asset flushed and winced, expecting a slap for asking questions. You pressed your lips to his slick mouth and hummed, “I’ve got you, my star has such manners.”

You pulled back, his brows furrowing in distress at the absence of your mouth. You let your collected drool drip into your palm and wrapped it around engorged flesh. He cried out and bit down to stop the noise.

“Don’t hide your sweet sounds from me, I want to hear my precious boy.”

A choppy exhale of breath was your answer. He squirmed and sniffled as you methodically fucked your fist on his cock. Slow, slow, a rough twist on the head and your prize was trembling like a virgin. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, puffing hot breath on the thin cloth of your top. The asset babbled random words in different languages interspersed with the most breathtaking little sobs.

You slid your thumb around the extra sensitive frenulum, the sweet thing sniffling and wetting your shoulder with tears. He tried to speak, “K-Ko- hah, haaah, mmh, fuck!” Your other hand— once tight in his perfect hair slid down to cup his overfull sac. You squeezed at the heated flesh. Soldat muffled his wail, hands scrabbling at your body.

His back was painfully arched, you ordering him to relax some. He did with a pitiful mewl, soaking more tears into your turtleneck. You grinned at the tell-tale little sobs. He’d get so pitchy you felt bad for your simple little weapon, his throat probably hurt even more from the high sounds. You husked in his ear, “That’s it my good boy, singing so pretty for your commander, you needed it baby.”

He was rutting into your fist with abandon, the left arm going off with buzzing signals. You dug your thumb into his weeping slit, guided a gentle finger holding his balls to that loose skin behind. You pressed up and gasped when Soldat almost crushed you with his arms, shaking and coming apart at the seams. The asset couldn’t catch his breath, aborted tiny cries leaving his swollen throat.

He wept openly now— flushed member shooting rope after rope of white cum. He stained your already ruined top and flooded your fist. You pumped Soldat through the climax until he mewled and shied away. He seized your lips again passionately, pouring singleminded need into the action. You kissed the perfect asset back, pressing your tits against his broad chest. You wanted to steal him away in the moment, leave with the priceless thing and start anew somewhere.

But that wouldn’t happen. He’d realize you’re just as tainted as the rest of Hydra and probably kill you as his brain inevitably cleared up. So you’d enjoy your pliant, perfect toy for now. You mumbled against insistent lips, “Baby did so good, Commander loves you. Precious star.” He teared up again— not sure where he remembered another voice telling the asset that he was loved.

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