preview of fic

“Self conscious,” Adam hummed. “Something like that.” Adam didn’t ask, but he brought up his hands again and he undid Frank’s pants. He was still a bit unsure on his footing but he could stay steady with a hand on the armrest of the couch. It wasn’t enough, the alcohol didn’t burn through his fear and the anxiety coiled in him nauseously. He didn’t like the idea of Adam knowing this about him, he’d had enough run ins in the past of one night stands turned assholes once them knew. He didn’t want Adam to be one of them. His pants came down and the fragrance of his want was vibrant. Adam’s eyes were wide and Frank wished that he had his lenses on because he didn’t want to know that Adm was looking there, what it was that had his attention. There was a triangle of dermal piercings just before his labia split, and a long scar sneaking from the edge of the right lip down his thigh. His dick was big, protruding from between his labia, but it was still nothing like a cock. “Oh,” Adam breathed and Frank knew that this wasn’t the ugliest part of him but it was something that he was deeply ashamed of. How long would it be before everyone at Sarif Industries knew? What was Adam going to say?

But Adam perked up, hopeful. “Yes. Yes, Daddy, next time. I’ll get my pup- my uh… “Puppy pussy?” Frank offered. Adam nodded, excitement making him look boyish and innocent, “Yes! My puppy pussy! I’ll get it ready for Daddy’s cock.” That was so hot that Frank’s own pussy spat out another fat wad of slick. Adam’s mechanical eyes caught sight of it and narrowed, the camera shutter of iris closing in on it. A little bit of pink from his tongue stuck out from between his lips. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. He was shaking, just a little bit. “Get up,” Frank ordered. “Take off your clothes. Daddy wants to get a good look at you.” The shaking grew worse. The desire shifted into shame. Frank wasn’t the only one to be self conscious, but he had been honest before, Adam was an Adonis. He was gorgeous before he died and now, Sarif had made him so elegant, had given him the prettiest augmentations that money could buy and some that it couldn’t. Adam stood and worked his vest off. The shirt under it was tight, Frank could see his nipples piercing through the material. “You too?”

He pulled his fingers out and Adam whimpered, chasing his touch with his hips, and Frank chuckled, spanking his hole directly. “Get up, Puppy, Daddy’s going to get you to cum,” he promised. Adam all but hopped up, excitement in his eyes. He turned and licked at Frank’s face, tongue like a dog’s. He was so willing, so cute, and Frank would have pet his hair and back if it weren’t for the lube on his hands. “I can’t wait to get you full of toys, that pussy is going to look so good stuffed full.” “Are you going to chain me down, Daddy?” Adam asked, “Will you get rid of my Doggy cock?” Get rid? He hadn’t expected Adam to even know about such a thing. “Yeah, I can lock that useless thing up,” he promised, “You want me to own it?” Adam nodded. “Please, I’ve wanted you for so long Daddy. Can I be your pet?” It made Frank’s heart clench. Adam wanted that? So early on? He would have been happy enough if they could just make eye contact in the office after this, but Adam wanted more than a one night stand. He wanted to be owned. “I didn’t know you were so willing to be Daddy’s whore. Fuck, I want to break your balls.” Adam shuddered. “I don’t know. That’s scary Daddy.” “We can work our way up to it. Now, let Daddy eat that sloppy pussy.”

I got a comment saying it had been 6 years since I updated this and I spent 3 day writing the last chapter.

archiveofourown.org/works/187703...

#deusex #jensard #adamjensen #francispritchard #mywriting #fanfiction

preview of fic

He was going to get to Adam’s apartment, find that it was all some sort of joke. Be made a fool of. There was no way that this was happening. There was no reason that Adam was serious about this or that he would go through with it once Frank was there. He parked near the entrance. He gave a nervous wave to the receptionist, wondering what kind of apartment building had a receptionist, and got in the elevator. He breathed. He tried to calm himself, to ignore the jittering in his arms, the pounding in his heart, the way that his throat was so tight. He knocked on the door. He waited. He pretended that he wasn’t about to run. “Francis,” Adam said his name so calmly, so warmly, when he opened the door. He looked good, wearing a black turtleneck and a gold waistcoat, black slacks with gold piping on the sides. “You actually came.” Frank was dressed like a slob. He looked as much like a man woken up in the middle of the night as he was. He shouldn’t have come. “What are you wearing?” “Just checking it out for tomorrow. What do you think?” He turned, showing Frank from all angles. The slacks hugged his ass a bit much and the vest was so tight that he could see all of the places where Adam was strongest. “You look like David Serif Jr.”

He brought his hand up to Adam’s cheek and brought his fingers from the bone up past his temple and into his hair and Adam’s eyes were closed, his expression tense. He looked as overwhelmed as Frank had been just a few minutes before. “Sorry this isn’t exactly the passionate night I promised,” his voice was so sad. He sounded like he was barely holding himself together. Frank didn’t want to see what would happen if Adam were to ever fall apart. He ran his fingers around one of the knobs, trailed his fingers down a bit, “Adam, how’s this?” Adam thought on that for a while, his eyebrows pinched. “… feels nice.” “See, this is fine.” He got on his tiptoes again, kissing Adam gently, more gently than he’d been kissed before. Slowly Adam brought his hands up, wrapping his arms around Frank’s chest, and pulling him flush to him, his grip just a little bit too tight. It didn’t hurt, it was what Adam needed. Frank had come here expecting to be treated roughly, not that his own gentle touch would be needed. He had never thought that Adam might need to be treated like this, like he was delicate. “You want to go to bed?” Frank asked, not moving, just nuzzling against Adam’s cheek, whispering into his ear. “You still want me like this?” Adam bit the words. Frank could have laughed then, because he was expecting those words to come out of him, if they’d ever gotten to the point of taking their pants off. “Just think it would be more comfortable,” he mused. “I’m going to touch you, Adam, everywhere you want me too.” Adam squeezed him tighter and Frank almost kicked him, feeling his ribs creek. “Hey hey! Stop with that, I know your salary, you can’t afford my hospital bills.”

No new fic today so it's time to promo old fic!

archiveofourown.org/works/18612826

#deusex #dxhr #jensard #adamjensen #francispritchard #mywriting #fanfiction #writesky

Adam Jensen from Deus Ex: Human Revolutions kneels, wearing only a set of nipple clamps and the silk scarf used to tie his wrists together in front of him. Behind him, a clothed Francis Pritchard, visible only from the waist down, brandishes a flogger whose tails are tipped with metal stars.

This month's project - some #jensard #gaybdsm fanart, inspired by an AO3 fic that made me so horny I needed a visual

#gay #gayart #fetishart #nippleplay #impactplay #digitalart #krita #nsfw
#adamjensen #francispritchard #deusexhumanrevolution #deusex #cyborg #cyberpunk

Explaining #jensard to my roommate, and how there's a surprising number of Russian-language fans of the ship still writing fanfics:

R: I know nothing about Deus Ex or its characters

Me: Well, one's an angsty cyborg boy, and the other's an asshole

R: That does sound like the two Russian genders

so much more than you can take - galaxy_skies - Deus Ex (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own] An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In the mood for retro this morning, and this #jensard fic is really making my dopamine pathways light up.
#nsfw #deusexhumanrevolution
archiveofourown.org/works/54718597

Preview of fic

Jensen’s weight pulled him and he was jarred half way out of the window to follow him, the angle making his shoulder pop and a terrible pain split the bones. He grit his teeth, grappling the wall with his other hand, trying to will the pain away, trying to keep his hold. Jensen wasn’t moving. He was there, he was limp in his hold. The pain of the gashes, small and insignificant, were staring to burn. The smell of burning was getting worse and it was more than just his own hair and skin, it was the room around them. He had to get Jensen up, back into the room. He knew, logically, that Jensen wasn’t terribly heavy. He was the same weight as he was before he’d died, but that didn’t help. At this angle, as he tore Pritchard’s arm from the socket, he could have been a few hundred pounds more than he was. “Hn,” Jensen murmured, trying to get back from unconsciousness. Good. Pritchard couldn’t get him up on his own.

“Fine!” Pritchard spat, “You want to just fall, go ahead, but you’re taking me with you.” That got Jensen to rise an eyebrow, his features to soften. They’d only been dating, technically, for a few days, but they’d known each other for such a long time. Pritchard was just trying to get him to take him seriously, to listen to what he was saying. “Alright,” was not what he’d expected. He felt his mouth fall open. “You think I’m joking? Come on, fall with me.” “I don’t want to be a stain.” It was getting hard to hold on, harder than it had been. His voice was faltering. “You won’t be. Come on. You can’t hold me much longer.” Pritchard bit his lip and closed his eyes. He stopped resisting. It felt strange to stop resisting. It was what he did best. He let himself fall. At leas the pressure on his arm was gone and, as they fell, Jensen pulled him closer, wrapped his arms around Pritchard’s shoulders, hands touching his back, fingers lightly scraping against the leather. Pritchard closed his eyes, feeling the tears sliding out from under his lashes. He hadn’t expected him to cry, nor to feel so calm.

Posting more old fic! More Jensard!

archiveofourown.org/works/16367810

#deusex #dxhr #deusexhumanrevolution #jensard #adamjensen #francispritchard #fanfiction #mywriting

preview of fic

He tried to act nonchalant, as the panic ate his stomach like moths at wool. He walked around the side of the building, trying to think of someway that he could get inside. There were more Harvesters here, some of which looked terribly pleased with themselves, but they all looked like they were on a smoke break and a few of them were even drunk, passing around a bottle of whiskey. They weren’t quiet. They’d found a big hit, a lot of expensive pieces, hard to salvage but worth it. He shivered. They were talking about Jensen, he knew that, but they were talking about him like he was a car, abandoned at a garage and ripe for the picking. They all laughed when they reminisced over how they’d brought him down. Pritchard pulled out a cigarette of his own and stood with a couple of punks at a flaming barrel. They watched him, they knew he wasn’t one of them, but they could see the anxiety in his features, and they let him be. It had been a bad fight and a few of them had been knocked out while their prize ghosted around them. They’d caught on eventually and gone after him, all together, and he’d thrown an EMP grenade at them. Idiot hadn’t thrown it fast enough and he took himself down, even with how they’d shot him. He grit his teeth, almost biting through the cigarette. A woman, wearing far too little clothing for the weather, sporting a bright red mohawk, put her hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off, glaring, assuming that she was going to interrupt his thought and hearing with some suggestion that he didn’t want to hear.

“Jensen!” he shoved forward, cradling the man’s head in his hands. The lenses slid back into the grooves in his face, hidden along his temples and he laughed a wet, painful sound. “Took you long enough.” “Come now, listen to all that drama? I had to come up with the best way to make an entrance.” Jensen made that sound again but didn’t move. It took too long for Pritchard to realize that it was because his arms were bolted down, literally, with large bolts between his fingers and around his wrists, to pin him. Pritchard had to pull them away with a wrench, and then Jensen’s hands were on his gut, his flesh gut, feeling the quick and not exactly proper medical work that had been done to him. There was gauze and what looked like stitches underneath, but he was bleeding through all of it. “Home?” he almost whispered. Pritchard nodded, before looking down, only now realizing that Jensen was missing a few things. Some of the bolts in his chest were missing, which meant his self healing wasn’t working. His clothes were all gone and that wasn’t something that Pritchard had been expecting at all but that wasn’t the worst of it.

Preview of an old jensard fic. Fuck I miss these two....

archiveofourown.org/works/16290749

#jensard #deusex #dxhr #adamjensen #francispritchard #mywriting #fanfiction

preview of fic

His arms were heavy at his sides, his fingers stiff and lacking in the elegance that he was known for, even after the incident. His legs were heavy too and it was hard for him to get out of bed, into sweats, into long socks that would have warmed him if he had any flesh left to his feet. His head felt full of fog and was full of worse things, whenever he closed his eyes. The windows cracking, water streaming in through them. He had run, as fast as he could, faster than that, trying to get up and out. There were innocents, so many of them, trapped in insanity, trapped in the familiarity of one another. None of them could make it to the surface. He couldn’t make it to the surface. The water was ice and heavy pressure and the building sank and cracked around him. He kept his eyes open as much as he could, his shades up. He didn’t want anyone to see the darkness around them, how little he’d been sleeping. He needed the blankets for warmth but the weight of them was too much like a hundred miles of ocean water. Another body beside his helped, but it was rare that Francis slept at all, nevertheless in the same bed as him. He didn’t complain. He didn’t want Francis to know that he was close to cracking, that half of his augs wouldn’t turn on, that he hadn’t gotten his infolink fixed. He didn’t want the people at the LIMB clinic to touch him.

“Breakfast is ready,” Francis called out from the hall. He’d been in there long enough for Francis to make breakfast. That was a bad sign. Francis didn’t like to cook and he was terrible at it. He must have been waiting a while. He heard the door open. He couldn’t see through the steam. Francis turned on the fan though, venting away the cloud of warmth that he was making. “It’s pancakes. I even used a mix and they came out lumpy and half burnt.” He didn’t respond. He felt like he was only half listening. Francis deserved more than that. Francis deserved more than the icicle that had been found half dead in a lifeboat. “You still have any hot water in there?” Francis’ voice was closer. He turned up the heat again, getting a few more moments of boiling heat. It was fading though, leaving him cold once more, letting the water break down the waters and the pipes, flooding the floor around his feet, climbing up his legs. “No,” he finally said. His voice was so rough, so quiet.

time for old fic promo, from 2018's kinktober. I wrote about jensard.

archiveofourown.org/works/16207499

#deusexhumanrevolution #dxhr #deusex #adamjensen #francispritchard #jensard #mywriting #fanfiction

more #jensard !!!
#deusexmankinddivided #frankpritchard #adamjensen #francispritchard

delulu continues
#jensard #mojoart

i dont remember if he posted the fic or anything but this is based off @kaoticshiba.bsky.social s work

#jensard #deusexmankinddivided #mojoart

Francis Pritchard and Adam Jensen

Любите ли вы Deus Ex так же как и я? ❤️‍🩹

[fanart, DE HR]

#deusex #jensard #adamjensen #frankpritchard #fanart