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indigosunsetao3 · 6 months ago

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NSFW | 18+ | Religious theming/tones/symbolism, brief mention of blood, church sex

Female reader perspective.

The symbolism in this story is going off the assumption Johnny was/is Catholic.

I haven't been in any sort of religious space since I was about five despite being raised in two households with three different religions. It’s safe to assume things aren’t exactly right/accurate in this story. I researched what I thought I needed and expanded on things I already happened to know.

I should be working on the million other WIPs I have but this feral thing literally woke me up last night.

Soap hadn't been to church properly in years. His mam would be ashamed to know he didn't bother to pass the threshold when he walked past one, even on their holiest of days. That he didn't cross himself with prayer, that he only made the gesture sarcastically to get a laugh out of his friends. And the rosary he received as a lad was long lost in his many moves, he never fussed about getting another.

The issue was, with everything Soap had seen in his years in the military he had a hard time believing in a God. Had a hard time thinking that there was some benevolent being out there pulling all the strings and letting these things happen. He also figured that when his time came, if there was a heaven, his hands were so stained with blood he wasn't getting into their pearly gates. So why bother confessing his sins, why bother with the self punishment and judgements when in the end none of it mattered anyway.

So when you drag him into a derelict shell of a church with only one thing in mind he doesn't balk at the sight of dusty pews. Doesn't flinch at the idea of desecrating holy ground. And doesn't pause in the removal of his vest as he follows you up the aisle with a grin on his face as his heavy footfalls echo around the cavernous ceiling. Discarded and forgotten bibles remain in their seatbacks, and old hymn sheets flutter about in the wind from your passing bodies.

The stained glass windows at the back of the sanctuary were smashed in places long ago. Pieces of glittering colored glass litter the floor and crunch under your shoes as you both reach the lectern. Vines are growing through the holes in the windows and the tapestries are so badly water damaged it's hard to even tell what they were anymore.

The large cross that hung from the ceiling before is half broken and leaning against the wall. You peer at where the occupant of that symbol used to be but is no longer as if someone had tried to save something of this place. Or violate it more by removing its idol.

Soap's hands find your hips from behind as your fingers grip at the lectern. He doesn't care to look around, he's washed his hands of all of this so long ago it's just another building; another victim of war. So as you take in your surroundings with curiosity Soap untucks your shirt to slide his hands slowly up your ribs as his lips find your neck. The soft sigh you give him at his ministrations is all he needs to push him along.

His hands make quick work of your shirt and bra, raising your arms above your head before he guides your hands back to hold onto the lectern again. How many times in his youth did he watch and listen to sermons from a place just like this? Listening to tales of damnation or salvation, depending on the story and the time. He's fairly certain that this would be a tale of eternal hell if the priests could see him now, if they could hear the thoughts he's having as he smooths his palms down your back. You arch to the touch and let out a small sigh of his cold hands on your hot skin.

He steps away from you for a second, shucking off his own shirt and depositing it with yours on the faded red carpet. He doesn't return to you right away though, just looks at the dark silhouette of your body as you stare up at the high ceilings, waiting on him. It would have been a pious pose in any other situation but God had left this place long ago.

Soap captures you in his grip again, his bare chest pressed against your back. You can feel the chain and dog tags digging between your shoulder blades as he presses his hands against your breasts, cupping them for a second before squeezing. He can feel you push back against him, using the leverage of the lectern to keep your balance.

Your fingers snare in the tattered silk that still adorns the worn wood of the furniture before you. Soap has you effectively pinned between him and it and you ball the delicate material in your fingers as he bites your pulse. You lean back into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you stare down at his hands groping you. He teases and taunts the soft flesh, toying with your hardened nipples for only a moment before he slips his hands down toward your pants fingers first.

He's taking his time with your button and zipper. Savoring the way you push up against him and whine in your throat as his fingers just barely break the waistband. When you move your hands to help him he grabs the back of them gently and puts them once again on the lectern, curling your fingers for you to hold it tightly.

Satisfied that you know what to do he glides his hands back up your arms, over your shoulders then back down your back. His ministrations are slow, watching how the goosebumps follow his touches before he finds your pants again. Running his hands over your behind and down your thighs as far as he can go before he kisses the back of your neck.

You hear him adjust then, feel him shift, and dare a glance over your shoulder. You see him behind you knelt on the ground, knees slightly splayed and hands rested on his powerful thighs as he watches you. The perfect position of the submissive solider, the disciplined disciple, looking up at his deity before him.

Soap leans forward and ever so gently grabs one of your legs to slip your boot off, pulling each lace loose unhurriedly before tossing it away into the dark. He takes care of the other one in the same manner before finally pushing up on his knees fully to hook his fingers into the waist of your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. He can see you shiver as he tugs and pulls, taking his time as he works the material down.

The church is silent around you save for the whisper of cloth as he undresses you, the creaking of the wood as you shift your weight left then right to get the pants off, and then the soft sigh you let out as he kisses your lower back. It's not lost on you that he has you at the front of the church, that you're positioned where any and all eyes could see you if they happened to walk in. That you were the center of this place of devotion.

He grabs your hips then, gently tugging them back so you are forced to shift your feet back some and bend forward. He doesn't stop until you are pushed up on your tiptoes and are bent so far forward that your head hangs between your arms still holding the pulpit as he had quietly instructed you to do. He wants you to watch as he worships you and as his hands grab your ass to spread you, you bite your lip in anticipation.

You are on full display for Soap in this position and he uses his thumbs to open you even more, to see how badly you need him. He doesn't dare let his thumbs brush you where you want it most, wanting his tongue to be the first thing that touches you tonight. He flexes his hands, squeezing the heated flesh, before leaning forward and licking a long stripe up your center. He fights back his own groan at the filthy moan you let out. The sound echoes around the room, breaking the hushed silence that suffocates the place.

He doesn't stop. He holds you tight in place as he feasts upon you, not letting you squirm away as he works you over. He's urging you on, humming against your folds as you whine and clench your jaw in pleasure. He knows you're holding back, doing your best to fight the sounds coming from you because you don't want to draw attention. You don't want your moans and pleads to bounce around the room that was built with those acoustics on purpose. But Soap wants it. He wants you to cry out for God. For him.

Your body is trembling from the exertion of this position, from the onslaught of Soap's tongue and his fingers as they literally slip into you. You aren't even sure if it's two or three at this point as he coaxes you on, his teeth biting down on the sensitive flesh of your thigh as he pumps into you. You can feel the arousal sliding down your legs mixed with his spit and when he begins a harsh pace with his fingers that you are sure is going to knock you off your feet you finally cry out unrestrainedly.

The pleasure races from your stomach and down your legs as you finally let go and climax. The tattered silk on the podium can't fight your grip and it tears into two jagged pieces, the sound drowned out by your pants and moans. He doesn't stop though, he forces you to ride it out and fight the twitching of the overstimulation. Doesn't let you breathe as he reaches up to rest his forearm on your lower back making you arch that much more to him. It's almost painful how he has you held but that feeling goes away as you feel him lap away the mess you had just made with his tongue.

Soap leans back after a few soft kisses against your sensitive center, doing his best to not smirk at how swollen and ready it was for him. His fingers massage the back of your legs as you groan and push up, letting the purple obliterated silk fall to the floor. Turning around to face him you push your hair back off your forehead where pieces had stuck to the sweat there and smile at him as he gazes up at you reverently.

His chest is heaving as he watches you, breath catching as you kneel down to him and reach for his pants and yank them. You aren't as soft and patient with him as he was undressing you. Your hands shake as you get the belt and button loose. Not from fear but from anticipation. You can feel how painfully hard he is as he shifts to get the clothes off and he nearly growls as your hand wraps around him to give him a few precursory pumps. He doesn't need it, he's already leaking for you but you taunt him anyway, running your thumb over the tip.

He bucks up into your hand as you kiss him, your teeth and lips clashing harshly. You can taste yourself on him as he sweeps his tongue in and you sigh in satisfaction as his hands come up to cup your face. Greedily you climb into his lap as if he hadn't just worshiped you to oblivion a few moments before. You need more, you need him in you, to consume him.

Soap obliges you, wrapping his arms around you and shifting to sit on the few steps that lead up to the podium. Where parishioners would kneel to pray up to the cross, to their leader. He plants his feet on the ground and leans back on his elbows to watch you as you push back from the kiss. He stares as you rise up over him with one hand braced on his chest as the other holds him to guide him to you.

Once he's aligned at your entrance you snap your eyes up to his and watch his face in the faint street light coming in from the windows behind you as you sit down on him. It's an easy motion, your body already so slick and ready for him and you can feel him twitch at the sudden warmth around him. He groans, his hands slipping a bit on the carpeted steps before hissing and drawing them back.

Turning his right hand up Soap sees that his hand has run right over a hidden piece of stained glass in the carpet. The thin line of blood that wells up on his palm is instantaneous. He supposes this is penance, for his lack of faith, and lack of respect, for this place. Or perhaps his payment for you, payment in blood to show his devotion to the only thing he would ever get on his knees for again.

You hesitate at the painful hiss but Soap grabs your hip with his other hand and moves you over him. The temporary pain forgotten as you begin to ride on him, the movements slow as you slide all the way up him before back down. Your hand on his chest balls into a fist to hold his dog tags there, curling your fingers tight around the chain and tugging a bit to keep him locked on you.

He doesn't need the bite of the chain in the back of his neck to keep his eyes on you though. The streetlights behind you sets your face in shadow, the light glowing around your body as you ride him; use him. He groans as you move faster, your other hand grabbing his bloody one and lacing your fingers together. You hold his hand tight as you bend down over him and kiss him, rolling your hips in a harsh snap down on him.

Soap begins to meet your moves thrust for thrust, the sound of your slick body's slapping against one another filling up the chamber. It's rhythmic, a music in its own making that's more powerful than any other hymn that had been sung there before. As the song reaches its peak Soap finds his climax, yelling out as you push him hard into the floor and fuck him as if it were the end of days.

You're chasing your own release as you grind down on him, not giving him a chance to recover just like he had done to you. He's huffing and you can see the pleasurable anguish on his face as you finally reach that apex. Your cries lilt and your movements become more frantic as you feel yourself come apart and you sit up on him, grabbing his waist for support as you bounce on him.

In that moment, as Soap watches your face and feels you clamp around him, he becomes a believer again. Not in God, he had abandoned him long ago. In you. You were his center, his home, his goddamn reason for being, for breathing. You knew how to tear him apart and put him back together again and he was going to worship you until you brought him into heaven or dragged him down to hell.

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod #fanfiction #my fic #fanfic #cod fanfic #soap #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap smut #cod smut #religious imagery #religious themes #good thing I'm not religious cause I'm sure I'd be smited...smote..smitten?

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nburkhardt · 2 years ago

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Saw this post and couldn’t get it out of my mind :)

His tattoos don’t even cross his mind when he takes his sweater off, too focused on knowing that he’s the only one that could handle swimming to check for a gate. Hoping that for once Dustin’s wrong.

It’s not until Nancy’s using her shirt to wrap around his middle that he remembers, “fuck, did they eat the sunflower?”

All three of them stare at him and in that moment he also remembers, no one knows about his tattoos. The only other person that knows about any of them is the artist who did them and he’s all the way in Indianapolis, probably working on a new design for him.

“Where’s the sunflower?” Eddie breaks him out of his thoughts, “because it seems like those bats just went to town on you. And you have some serious road rash on your back”

He doesn’t have to move far, the sunflower is or maybe was on his left side on the ribcage, fallen petals going down towards his hips. Pointing towards it, he watches as Eddie looks and his eyes wander across his chest. There’s a broken crown sitting on his collarbone, hopefully at least.

“Uh, well, the sunflower has some damage, sorry to say, though that crown is fine. Any, uh any other tattoos?” Eddie tells him and there’s something in his voice that he can’t quite place.

He nods and turns around, there should be an image of the nail bat on his shoulder blade with the lyrics from Mad World, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had” wrapped around it.

It’s probably not the best time to worry about the tattoos and should probably worry about the fact that they’re stuck in the upside down but his brain can’t stop focusing on the things that kept him from freaking out for the last three years.

“Woah! That’s metal as all hell, some of the words got a little scraped. But still there”

Eddie’s voice brings him back to the moment and he’s thankful the nail bat is still there. He sees Robin and Nancy talking and then before he knows it, pulling him and Eddie along to who knows where. His focus on the tattoos fade away and in place is just pain from his whole body.

Once they reach top-side again, his tattoos aren’t on his mind. The pain from the bites and road rash is the only thing he’s processing. Not processing that the kids are staring at him both in worry and curiosity because they didn’t know about the tattoos and the sunflower is peaking out from under the makeshift bandage and the broken crown is on display.

Thankfully Nancy gets everyone moving. He gets cleaned up and bandaged with actual bandages. They plan, steal a Winnebago, buy weapons and before Steve knows it, they’re back in the upside down and he’s telling Eddie and Dustin to not be stupid.

After it’s officially over, they’re in the hospital for several reasons. Max’s broken legs and arms, Dustin’s ankle, Eddie’s bites and Steve’s own bites. But it’s over and everyone is safe, that’s all Steve cares about really.

He gets cornered by Robin, and it’s not really cornered since he’s stuck in a hospital bed already. “Ok Dingus, now you’ll be explaining how the hell you managed to keep this a secret from me!”

Shrugging, because he doesn’t know exactly how to explain this. Especially since his brain is feeling like mush with the drugs they have him on. “I like tattoos” is all he says and then promptly falls asleep. He has good reason for it, there’s plenty of time to talk when he’s not high on pain meds.

I’m gonna leave it there because I’m lost on how to continue right now. I’ll definitely come back to it to do a part two of the actual conversations and why, how & when Steve got the tattoos. Here’s a better understanding of what they are tho:

Sunflower with fallen petals on his ribcage, the only one with color (his favorite) A broken crown on his collarbone (represents fallen King Steve, this was the first tattoo) The nail bat with lyrics from Mad World on his shoulder blade, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had” wrapping around it. Not mentioned because it hasn’t happened yet in the fic, he has a d20 (for Dustin) tattoo planned and a copy of one of Robin’s doodles from her shoes. (He’s a sentimental guy? Okay?!)

@i-less-than-three-you @artiststarme @imfinereallyy (hopefully you don’t mind I used your idea, I couldn’t get the post outta my head)

#Steve Harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington fc #steve harrington hc #tattooed Steve #there’s implied steddie in there if you look close enough #also he’s not punk in this he still dresses the same :) just has tattoos #I wrote out when and how and a friendship between a tattoo artist and Steve #but i didn’t like where it was going #nburkhardt writes

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lovetaroandtaemin · 4 months ago

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A Bit of Fun

Jung Sungchan x Reader

Word Count: 3,622

This fic is NSFW! Minors DNI!

Content warnings: Smut (Unprotected sex, some dirty talk, biting, creampie, blowjob), Some angst, Sungchan is a tad possessive at the end, suggestive conversations. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Author's Note: This fic was inspired by this ask that I got a few months ago. I'm so sorry it took so long for this fic to come out, but I hope that you like it if you're the anon that sent the ask! Even if you're not, I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it. Feedback is always appreciated! I also want to add that this fic is not beta read.

Fic is under the cut.

You were starting to regret going shopping with your best friend, Yeji, and her roommate, Miyeon. Yeji was insistent that she needed a new dress for her boyfriend’s party that night. In truth, however, she and Miyeon were trying to help you forget about your ex. The problem with that was that everything reminded you of Donghyuck. The dress that Miyeon had picked out was his favorite color. The shop’s speakers played your song. No matter what it was, every little thing made you think of the man that had broken your heart.

“(Y/N), are you coming to Eunseok’s party tonight?” Miyeon’s question pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah, I am. I haven’t been out without Donghyuck in a while, it’s gonna be fun.”

“You should try to hook up with somebody,” Yeji interjected, “You know, get over Donghyuck by getting under someone else.”

“Yeji!” you and Miyeon said at the same time.

“What? It’s how I got over Jaemin. Plus, the guy that I ended up hooking up with was Eunseok. And now we’ve been dating for almost a year.”

“I have seen how happy Eunseok makes you,” you said.

“Just please be careful,” Miyeon added. “I know that you really wanna get over Donghyuck, but I don’t want you to get hurt. The guys you used to hook up with didn’t exactly have your best interest at heart.”

“Thanks, Miyeon. I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“I really hate to break up this sweet moment of my two best friends bonding, but if you’re going to the party tonight, you should also probably pick a new dress, (Y/N),” Yeji said.

“Good idea, I really wanna catch people’s attention tonight.”

After you picked a dress, Yeji dropped you off at home. As you started to get ready you decided to take Yeji’s advice. Your roommate was out of town for the week, so tonight was the perfect time to try to meet someone to have a little fun with. Hopefully, the extra care you took while doing your hair and makeup would mean that you’d catch the eye of a handsome stranger.

It took you longer than usual to get ready, so when you showed up at Eunseok’s apartment, the party had already started. You never liked being late, but tonight you didn’t mind since it seemed to work in your favor. All eyes were on you, and people liked what they saw. The bright pink dress you had bought earlier hugged your curves perfectly and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. Your makeup was simple but still flattered your features. The best part of your look, in your eyes, was your hair. It was styled in loose waves, framing your face.

It wasn’t a handsome stranger that caught your attention at the party. It was someone that you already knew. Well, you kind of knew Sungchan, but the two of you weren’t close. He was the drummer in Eunseok’s band. You had seen him around a lot going to shows with Yeji, but he never usually caught your eye. Tonight, however, he looked too good for you to not be interested. He was dressed casually, but it was obvious that he knew he looked good. His red t-shirt suited him perfectly, and the jeans he was wearing fit him just right. After staring at him for what felt like forever, you decided to walk over and strike up a conversation.

“Hi, Sungchan right? I’m (Y/N).”

“Yeah. I’ve seen you around before, you’re Yeji’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. She actually invited me tonight.”

“Well, I’m happy that she did, you look fucking sexy.”

“You don’t look too bad, yourself. Red is definitely your color.”

“Based on the blush on your cheeks, I’d say that red looks good on you too,” he said with a wink.

You smiled at the compliment and said, “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

Grabbing his hand, you led him to where other people were dancing. You started to sway your hips in time with the song, and if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, he was extremely interested in the way you moved. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started to sway with you. It was obvious to anyone that saw the two of you that there was chemistry. He was looking at you like you were the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, and you were looking at him like nothing else in the world mattered.

After a few songs, his hands found their way to your ass, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “Do you like that?” You nodded, and he squeezed gently. The gasp that slipped out of your mouth made Sungchan chuckle.

You decided to return the favor by kissing him with everything you had. He let out a small noise of surprise, and when you pulled away it was your turn to laugh. The smile on his face when you laughed made your heart feel like it was on fire. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. So, you leaned closer and whispered, “We should take this back to my place. I think we’d have a lot more fun there.”

“What kind of fun did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Well in that case, let’s go.”

You quickly found Yeji and Miyeon to let them know you were leaving with Sungchan. Yeji cheered, and Miyeon looked worried. You reassured her that you would be safe, and that seemed to make her feel better. Before you knew it you were leading Sungchan to your car, desperate to get home as soon as possible.

The drive back to your apartment was filled with anticipation, especially with Sungchan teasing you as you drove. He made comments about how seeing you so focused on driving was a turn-on, and how he couldn’t wait to see what you had in mind when the two of you got back to your apartment. His hand on your thigh also didn’t help with the arousal between your legs that was almost too much to bear.

When you finally got back to your apartment, you practically dragged Sungchan to your room. Once you were there, however, he took full control. Within seconds he had you pinned to your bed, his lips quickly finding their way to your neck. You let out a small moan, which only egged him on. After a few more minutes of teasing, he pulled away just long enough to admire the small hickeys left along your collarbone before he leaned in and kissed you.

His lips felt like heaven, and you almost felt like you could stay just where you were and be content. Almost. You could feel how hard he was through his pants, and it was starting to drive you crazy. Plus, it had been months since the last time you had been fucked properly.

“Please just do something already,” you whined.

“I am doing something, I’m kissing you.”

“But I want more.”

You didn’t need to say anything else before Sungchan pulled your dress off, unhooked your bra, and threw your clothes on the floor, Then he started kissing all over your chest, leaving hickeys wherever he wanted. You loved the feeling of his mouth on you, but you still wanted more.

“Oh my god, just fuck me already!” you cried out in desperation.

As soon as the words left your mouth, something snapped. Sungchan needed you, and he needed you now. He stood up just long enough to rip clothes off while you made quick work of the little clothing you were still wearing. Before you knew it, he was on top of you again. His lips found their way back to your neck, and he aligned his tip with your pussy.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, lifting his head so the two of you were making eye contact.

“I’m sure. I want you inside me.”

He gently pushed his hips forward, and you gasped at the feeling as you threw your head back. It took a moment for Sungchan to adjust to the feeling of your walls around his cock, so for a minute he was still. Then, he grabbed your chin, making you look at him as he started to thrust in and out.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Sungchan’s groans, and skin slapping skin as the two of you lost yourselves in pleasure. You had to admit, he was sexy like this. His mouth hung open, allowing you to hear just how you were making him feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, “You’re taking it so well, baby.”

You could only moan in response. Something about the way he called you baby turned you on more than it probably should have. This man knew exactly how to drive you crazy, and you loved it.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt a familiar knot in the pit of your stomach. Based on the fact that you could feel Sungchan’s thrusts getting sloppier, it seemed like his own climax was approaching as well.

“I’m close,” you whimpered.

“I know, baby, me too,” he said, “Cum for me.”

The moment the words left his mouth he pulled you into a kiss and you felt your orgasm wash over you. Feeling you cum around his cock triggered Sungchan’s orgasm, and all you could think about as you felt him unloading inside you was how badly you wanted him to do it again. You were far too tired for that tonight, however. Once the two of you came down from your highs, he helped you clean up and held you until both of you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you were startled to find another person in your bed. Then, you remembered the events of the night before and started to relax. You rolled over and looked at Sungchan as he slept, smiling as you remembered the way he had made you feel the night before. You couldn’t linger, however, since you had plans to get coffee with Yeji and Miyeon in an hour. So, you got up and started to get ready for your day.

Once you were done brushing your teeth, you returned to your room to find Sungchan getting dressed. For a moment you considered looking away, but considering you had seen everything the night before, you weren’t too concerned. When he turned around and saw you, he smiled and said, “What are you looking at?”

“You. Why? Is that a problem?”

“No, I was just gonna ask if you like what you see.”

“Was last night not enough of an indicator that the answer to that is yes?”

“No, it was, I just like hearing you say it.”

You rolled your eyes at that and decided to ask if you could see Sungchan again soon. He happily agreed, handing you his phone so you could put your number in. You sent him a quick text so that he had your number as well, then finished getting ready for coffee with your friends.

You and Sungchan ended up leaving your apartment around the same time. He left to go home so he could get ready for band practice with Eunseok, and you left for your favorite café. When you got there, you found Yeji and Miyeon sitting at your usual table discussing the party the night before. Miyeon greeted you when she saw you, and Yeji excitedly asked what happened after you left with Sungchan.

“I don’t know if I should say,” you mumbled as you remembered what had happened.

“Oh, come on, now you have to tell us!” Yeji said, louder than she should have.

“No, she doesn’t,” Miyeon said. “If she doesn’t feel comfortable with it you shouldn’t make her.”

“It’s ok, Miyeon.” You turned to Yeji and smiled, adding “I won’t go into detail, but I will say that you were right about getting over Donghyuck by getting under someone else. Sungchan is incredible in bed.”

Yeji cheered, and Miyeon smiled. Both your friends were happy to hear that you were finally moving on. Miyeon voiced her concerns about you getting your heart broken again, but you assured her that you weren’t looking for anything serious with Sungchan.

The three of you continued to chat and drink coffee until Yeji had to leave. After she waved goodbye, Miyeon turned to you and said “I’m happy to hear that you’re getting over Donghyuck. Just be safe, please.”

“You got it!” you said, pulling her into a hug. The two of you parted ways, and you got a message from Sungchan. It simply said, “We’re playing a show tonight, will you come?” You smiled and sent back a message promising to attend.

That night when Sungchan was preparing to perform, he was full of anxiety. Usually he had no problem performing, but he had to admit that knowing you were in the audience was making him nervous. He liked you a lot, and he really wanted to impress you.

You got to the bar with Yeji and Miyeon shortly before the show was about to start, and Yeji quickly found the three of you a spot near the stage. When Sungchan, Eunseok, and the rest of their band came onstage to perform, the crowd that had gathered erupted into cheers. Eunseok quickly introduced the band, then they started to play.

The second the show started; you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Sungchan. His charisma was already evident when he wasn’t on stage, but when he was on stage anyone that saw him could tell that he was passionate about music as well. He loved playing, and you loved to watch him.

When the concert ended, you quickly found Sungchan to say hello. The moment he saw you he grinned and asked what you thought about the show.

“You guys are incredible. It’s obvious that you love what you do, and your energy onstage is infectious.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he blushed, “you look good tonight.”

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Would you like to come back to my place? Eunseok is sleeping at Yeji’s tonight, so we’ll have the apartment to ourselves.” Sungchan could only hope that he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

“I’d love to, I just need to let Yeji know since she drove me here.”

You quickly found your friend, letting her know that you didn’t need a ride home. She gave you a knowing smile and told you to have fun. Once the two of you got in the car, you felt a familiar tension. Based on how he looked at you when he parked, you guessed that Sungchan felt it too.

The moment you were through the door he pushed you against it and kissed you. After what felt like eternity, he pulled away for air. When he did this, he briefly let go of you, so you took the opportunity to drop to your knees. You looked up at him and said, “Can I?” He quickly nodded and started to unbutton his pants.

You gently moved his hands back to his sides and finished removing his pants and boxers. After ensuring he was ok with it once again, you quickly took him in your mouth and started to move your head along his shaft. He groaned and moved his hands to your hair, pulling slightly.

As you continued sucking his cock, it was obvious that Sungchan was enjoying it. He was quieter than the last time you had slept together, but he had started to gently thrust into your mouth. The more he reacted to your movements the more you realized you loved watching him lose himself in pleasure.

Eventually his thrusts got faster and sloppier. In response you decided to toy with him a bit, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. He let out a loud moan and tried to warn you that he was close. Before the words came out, however, he was cumming in your mouth, a combination of various swear words and moans of your name leaving his lips.

Once you swallowed all of it, Sungchan helped you off the floor and finally led you to his room. However, you decided to end your activities there for the night, instead opting to get to know each other better. You learned that his dream was to be a famous musician, and that his friendship with Eunseok went back to when the two were in elementary school. He learned that you had known Yeji basically your entire life since your parents were close friends, and that your dream was to own your own café instead of working in someone else’s like you had been. The two of you continued to learn new things about each other until you were too tired to continue talking, at which point you drifted to sleep holding each other.

For a while, this was your relationship with Sungchan. The two of you hooked up after every show, plus whenever one of you was lonely late at night. The arrangement was fine, but over time you started to want something more. Sure, Sungchan was incredibly attractive, but he was also kind, funny, and confident. You considered telling him about your feelings, but you didn’t want to drive him away if they weren’t reciprocated.

Then something happened that took you by surprise. It started just like any other time. You texted Sungchan asking him to come over. He did, and he fucked you until you could barely walk. Then came the aftercare. In the months since you had started hooking up, this had become your favorite part. He helped you get cleaned up every time you two slept together, no matter how tired he was after. Then the two of you settled into bed, and you talked about whatever silly things had happened that day. Except this time, before you could share your typical stories about work and spending time with Yeji and Miyeon, Sungchan said something that you never expected to hear.

“I think I want more than this.”

“What?”

“I want more than this. I don’t wanna just be the guy that you fuck when you’re bored. I wanna be able to call you mine.”

His words made your heart do backflips in your chest, and you were speechless. He actually felt the same way that you did.

“(Y/N)? Was that too much? I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have said- “

“No, no, no, it’s ok, really. I’ve wanted something more for a while now, I was just surprised that you did too.”

“So, does this mean- “

“That I’d like to be your girlfriend? Yes, it does,” you said with a grin.

He smiled and pulled you into another kiss. This one, however, felt different. Rather than the lust that had fueled his earlier actions, this kiss felt full of love. You pulled away with a smile, then the two of you settled into a comfortable silence as sleep overtook you.

A few weeks after you and Sungchan made it official, you decided to go to the club together for a bit of fun after a difficult day. When you got there the music was blasting, and all you wanted was to drag your boyfriend to the dance floor. However, you were interrupted by an all too familiar voice calling your name.

“(Y/N), hi!”

You turned around and your expression changed to one of surprise upon seeing who it was. “What do you want, ‘Hyuck?” you asked.

“I just wanted to say hi and catch up. You look gorgeous tonight by the way.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words. You still hated his guts, but he had always been a smooth talker. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing a hell of a lot better now that I’ve run into you.”

Sungchan immediately wanted to beat the shit out of Donghyuck. He held back, however, because he refused to get arrested on your first proper night out as a couple. Donghyuck seemed disinterested in Sungchan, however, as he continued looking at you like you had come to the club alone.

“Would you like to dance?” Donghyuck asked as he held his hand out to you.

Before you could answer, Sungchan piped up and said, “She’s here with me, asshole. Go find someone else to dance with.”

“I wasn’t talking to you; I was talking to (Y/N).”

“I’m not interested, ‘Hyuck, leave me alone,” you said.

He scowled at you and walked away, finding someone else to flirt with. You turned back to Sungchan, but before you could ask him to dance, he asked “What the hell? Why were you smiling at him like that?”

“I was trying to be nice!”

“You were flirting with him.”

“No, I was not.”

“Then why were you looking at him like you wanted to fuck him?”

“I was just smiling because he said something nice! What is with you?”

“Maybe I just don’t like when my girlfriend is visibly interested in someone else.”

“Sungchan, I was not interested in him! Donghyuck is my ex!”

“Whatever, we’re leaving,” Sungchan said as he dragged you out the door of the club.

“Why are we leaving?”

“We are leaving so I can fuck you until the only name you can remember is mine.”

This was going to be a long night, but you were never one to complain about that. Seeing your boyfriend so jealous was hot.

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. If you're the anon that sent the ask, I am sorry that this fic took so long. If anyone reading this has a request, send an ask or a dm! I promise it won't take as long as this one did.

If you would like to be added to a taglist for new fics either comment, send an ask, or send a dm with the username that you'd like tagged.

I hope you liked the fic! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

#kpop fanfic #non idol au #riize fanfic #riize x reader #riize x y/n #kpop imagines #sungchan x reader #jung sungchan x reader #jung sungchan smut #riize smut

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luckbealincoln · 1 year ago

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HIiii I absolutely love BKS! I have been here since day 1 and have fallen in love with it more and more. May I request 62 & 253 please? Basically possessive Din with some degradation

A Little Attention

pairing : din djarin x f!reader

word count : 2.3k

summary : the mandalorian returns from a hunt rather stressed, you know just how to help him out

warnings, etc : smut, established relationship, din djarin consent king, porn with a mere spoonful of plot, dom/sub, dom!din, sub!reader, safe words, sort of pet play??, din calls reader puppy, choking, degradation, humiliation, but also praise, rough rough rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, use of a belt, makeshift leash, creampie

a/n : i am so so sorry it's taking me so long to get through requests lmao i'm gonna set myself a reasonably goal of one per week and try and stick with that. i hope you enjoy!! this is uhhhh maybe the rowdiest fic i've written so far but also like i loved this request and i had so much fun writing this <3 now it's time for me to sleep so i hope y'all enjoy and have a good night!!

He’s in a mood when he comes back with the bounty.

He’s always in a mood when it takes more than a week. If the bounties alive they don’t make it known, they aren’t moving when he throws them into the carbonite. Walking in silence as he closes the doors to the Crest before storming off towards the ladder to the cockpit. He doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest as he stomps right past you.

You know Grogu’s in his pod up there napping, thankfully Mando notices and quiets his stomping as you feel the ships engine kick on almost immediately, the familiar hum fills the hull as you continue your knitting.

If he wants to be grumpy, you’ll let him be grumpy.

When he returns he still doesn’t address you as he slams his weapons down, he doesn’t clean any of his blasters as he hangs them up. He carelessly tosses the several belts he wears to the floor. Once he seems satisfied with his little tantrum he looks down to where you’re sitting on the ground. You continue your work on the sweater you’re making for the little green monster.

“How long has he been asleep?” He snaps at you which obviously has you frowning. That’s the first thing he says after eight moons apart?

“I missed you too.” You mumble before setting your needles into the basket where you keep your yarns.

“Don’t do that, I hate it when you do that.”

“So you're the only one who’s allowed to be angry?” You start to stand, leaning against the wall of the ship as you glare at him.

“I had a long week.” He sounds strained but you have no problem pushing his buttons. You know exactly what to do to get out of this mood. He needs to let off some steam. And he won’t do it unless you get him riled up, it’s just how this goes, once he gets all his pent up aggression out he’ll be back to the Mandalorian you know and love. Although you certainly don’t mind dealing with this side of him for now.

“So did I. You act like watching the kid isn’t hard. He gets bored after just a few days stuck on the ship and then he starts throwing things around with the magic and it’s all a mess.” You cross your arms as you continue frowning at him. He’s already clenching and unclenching his fist. Good.

“I didn’t say-.”

“And then you come back and you act like I’m not even here, like I’m nothing more than a pet to you, to look after when you feel like it and ignore otherwise.” You go to push past you but a gloved hand shoves you back against the ship's wall by the throat. All the air is shoved out of your lungs and his grip loosens the second you’re pinned in place.

There it is.

“Color?” His voice has softened around the edges just the tiniest bit.

You can’t help but grin at him.

“Green.” The moment you say it his grip tightens again. Your hands come up to claw at his wrist a bit as you gasp. He moves closer until your nose is poking against Beskar.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you so desperate for my attention that you have to act like a brat the second I return? Maybe you are my pet, you’d probably like it if I kept you as a pet, wouldn’t you?” You’re having a hard time focusing on his words as your vision starts to get blurry around the edges, the natural panic caused by lack of oxygen taking over as you claw more desperately at his wrist. When he releases you, you slump to the floor, he doesn’t give you more than a few seconds to catch your breath before you watch his gloves hit the ground next to you and his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, yanking, your face flushes. “I expect an answer.”

Fuck, what was the question? Kriff you can’t focus on much as you nod, hoping that’s the answer he wants but you feel another sharp tug.

“Words.” He forces you to stare up at him.

“Fuck, yes, sorry.” He seems pleased enough as he drops you back to the floor.

“Tell me your colors, pet.” He picks up one of his belts, one without any attachments, holding the brown leather strap in his hands. You sit on your ankles as you watch him fold it in half, smacking it against his palm gently before turning back to face you.

Stars, that tone. When he wants to be in charge there’s no arguing with that deadly serious tone. That’s the sharp tongue of a killer.

“Green means good, yellow means slow, red means stop.” He drags the bend of the belt across your jaw before withdrawing it so quickly you flinch.

“Good. Now, on all fours, like a good puppy.” His voice remains dominant but now there’s a hint of mockery as you obey. Getting on your hands and knees in front of him. He drags the belt across the length of your dress ridiculously slowly, by the time he reaches your ass you're trembling.

He crouches down next to you.

“Scared puppy?” There’s no concern in his tone as he says it.

Not at all.

If anything you’re shaking in anticipation of what’s to come. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of a yes.

“No.” You make sure he sees your smirk but any smugness in your expression is lost when he swings the belt down, a loud snap echos through the hull as it hits your rear. You lurch forward. mouth opening in a silent scream.

He hums. Happy with your reaction as his free hand reaches down to lift your skirt up, bunching the fabric up on your hips so he can admire the faint red mark already blooming on your ass.

“How many do you think you’ve earned, pet?” He traces the mark with his fingertips and you instinctively crawl forward a little bit, he grabs the meat of your ass, squeezing, his nails leaving little crescents in your skin. “Stay still. Don’t make me put you on a leash.”

That certainly isn’t as much of a threat as he makes it seem.

He of course realizes exactly what you're thinking and his hand slips under the fabric of your underwear, his digits slide through the pool of wetness forming and he laughs as he pulls them away to hold them in front of your face.

“Is that what you want? A leash?” He brings his fingers to your lips in silent instruction for you to clean them, which you do. Tasting yourself as you lick them clean. “Well, pets don’t just get treats. You have to earn it.” You do your best not to flinch as you feel the belt rest against the skin of your thighs. “How about ten? You take the belt ten times and I'll put you on a leash?”

It’s a humiliating deal.

You both know that.

But the first hit felt so good. And you crave more of the sting that lingers afterwards.

Besides, you’ve let him do worse to you and he’s let you do worse to him and you’ve always enjoyed it so you nod. He removes his fingers from your mouth and ruffles your hair.

“Good girl.”

It’s all worth it to hear those words.

He kneels next to you, one hand on your chest to keep you from falling forward, the other raises the belt again. You hear the crack before you feel the sting. A small yelp leaving your mouth. He gives you no recovery time as he brings it down again. Alternating between the backs of your thighs and your ass.

After seven he’s holding you up with his free hand. Tears stream down your face and you’ve completely soaked through your panties. He sets the belt down and rubs the welts that are forming, trying to soothe a bit of the pain as you whimper.

“Color?” He asks as he continues to rub circles against your swollen skin.

“Green.” You murmur as you drop your head so you're staring at the floor.

“Good girl.” You hear him pick the belt up again and he’s quick with it, he’s never been one to prolong this sort of thing longer than necessary. He brings the belt down three more times in quick succession, one slap on each thigh and one on your ass. You whine, your back arching slightly as your torso drops to the floor.

As you wipe away the tears falling down your face he begins to gently wrap the belt around your neck, notching it like a collar around your throat so it doesn’t choke you unless he pulls on it. He moves to kneel between your legs as he pulls the belt to bring you back up on your hands. His free hand pulls your panties down to your knees as he kneads the flesh of your ass. Helping to ease the pain that demands your attention.

“Color?” He asks one more time as you sniffle, composing yourself.

You certainly haven’t come this far not to get fucked.

“Green.” When you say it he gently pats your ass.

“You’ve been such a good girl. Such an obedient little pet. Do you want my mouth or my cock?” He continues kneading your ass and you answer immediately, you’re too worked up to not have him inside you right now.

“Cock, please.” His hand leaves your rear and you hear the zippers of his flight suit followed by the head of his cock swiping through your folds.

You’re practically drooling in anticipation but you never feel the stretch, instead he tugs on the belt, you choke a bit and lean back instinctively, impaling yourself on his length. You groan as he sinks just the tip into your dripping cunt.

“Come on. Take it all on your own like a good little pet.” He growls out and you know exactly what he wants. He’s presented this as a reward but you know he expects you to take it yourself.

Which you happily do.

Thankfully he lets you take your time. His hand grips the makeshift leash but he doesn’t rush you as you push your hips back against his. Whining as you rock back and forth, without any prep and over a week without him you aren’t anywhere near ready for him. But his gasps and whispered praises are enough to urge you on as you slowly fuck yourself on his cock.

“Such a good girl. Kriff. Good girl, taking her reward, look so pretty on my cock, does that feel good?” Even through his groans he manages to sound condescending.

“S’good Mando.” Your hips stutter all the back, fully taking him with a yelp and he finally tugs on the leash again.

“What do you say?” He pulls you back completely so you’re flush against his chest, he drops the belt and wraps his arms around your torso to hold you against him. Pushing himself deeper into you.

“T-thank you.”

“Good girl. Take your reward.” You can hear his shit eating grin but you eagerly comply, starting to rock yourself up and down against him. His hand trails down your stomach pressing against you roughly, like he’s trying to feel himself inside of you.

It’s harder in this position but you still manage to ride him, the hand on your stomach moves down to find your clit, there’s nothing gentle about his motions, he’s trying to force your climax out of you as quickly as possible. His fingers draw angry circles over the pearl between your legs making you keen.

Your thrusts are weak, you’re barely getting an inch off of him as you squirm in his arms. But he must be just as pent up as you are because you recognize the grunts behind the helmet, he’s already close, his own hips starting to rut up into you.

“Come on, cum on my cock, show me how good you can be for me.” He groans, pinching your clit sending a jolt through your entire body. Everything tenses up as you clamp down on him, your vision goes dark for a moment as your cunt strangles his cock. The only thing keeping you upright is his hands and after a few messy thrusts you feel him finish inside you.

He holds you against him for a little while, at least until you catch your breath. He hisses as he pulls out of you before his hands find the belt, releasing the clasp and tossing it aside, quickly lifting you up into his arms.

“Thank you.” He mumbles as he pulls your panties back up your hips. Walking you towards the sleeping cubby.

“For what?” You rest your head on his chest as he sits you down on the edge of your shared sleeping mattress.

“For doing that. I’m not an idiot, I know that was for my benefit.” His hands run through your hair, combing through the tangles that he put there. You grin at him.

“Well it’s not entirely for your benefit, you’re in a better mood thanks to me so everyone’s happy.” He hums in response, carefully laying you down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna go check on the kid, make sure we didn’t wake him.” He stands and you pull a blanket up over you, exhausted. Before he leaves he gives your leg a loving squeeze. “Next time you can put the leash on me if I act like that.” He laughs and you hear him climbing the rungs of the ladder.

He sounded like he was joking but you can’t help but smile.

Maybe next time you will.

#din djarin/reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #luckbealincoln #mandalorian smut

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duraxxor · 2 months ago

Text

Good Morning

This is a story designed to catch all of you up on recent events. And is told from the perspective of the duality that is Duraxxor. Please enjoy!

A phrase that I have not known for some time. There was always this bittersweetness in basking in the rising of the day star. The myriads of hot colors that are often shown through in the atmospheric reflection that is our skies. It’s like… an ozone autumn one may say. It always reminded me of the Sin’dorei homelands. Wait, why does it also remind me of… someone?

“A dragon. It reminds us of that dragon of Azeroth’s blood. Delicious blood as it is, Azalora is a fresh slate. Much like we were. Or should I say… I was. Fate has dealt her a chance, unlike I. “

Hmmmm. A fresh dawn, one might say that one is. That’s right, meeting her was an interesting turn of events to start off with returning to Azeroth. Life always seems to find a way, in the strangest of places. That includes unlife. As logical as her mind is, she still has a lot to learn in her experiences.

“And that isn’t just about how she likes her cut of meat and flavor? Everyone knows there is only one way to eat a steak. Hahahaha… “

Ha! I do hope that we meet again soon. It was a most pleasant experience to have a new face to look at you as helpful and not entirely a threat. Although, that may come back to bite one in the tail. Wait… Why am I talking to myself?

“Really? We have fought against aberrations and had voices in your head so many times and you are surprised to be speaking to yourself of all people? Oh Alphus, you really haven’t been yourself for some time, have you? I suppose that comes with the fact that we haven’t been whole for so long. It reminds me of the current conflict between the Gravekeeper and the Courier. Oh, that was a most painful night, one I won’t soon forget. “

Ah. I take it you are the part of me that is Duraxxor, the name we have gone by for the past what? Decade?

“It’s been a little over fifteen years, old friend. “

Old friend? Look, we aren’t exactly separate entities like the two involved. You aren’t a leftover of my past; you are every bit as part of me as much as I may dislike the notion of me being a blood sucking monster. Why do you think you chose to meet with the Courier and hear her story out if she so wishes to share it?

“On the contrary, I have my pessimistic opinions that she won’t fully share. Remember, while Annaliese Handhour is a death knight, she was also a warlock in life. And with warlocks come complicated stories. Complications that they wish to not share. That is how we wound up absolutely getting our shit rocked when we tried to bargain with the Gravekeeper. We overstepped a boundary line, one might say. “

As if you really hoped to care about overstepping boundaries. That’s always been your specialty in these desolate years of conflict. Let us hope she at least forgives us for doing so in the future. Then again, you already plan to tread in waters that could already place her on our bad side by meeting with the Courier.

“Now see here, I have betrayed no one’s trust. If anything, there have already been a few betrayals already. When one doesn’t quite share their details, it is already a sign of bad faith and trust. And after we worked so hard to bring her back from her second death. “

Didn’t we also have a second death? . . .

“That is highly exaggerated. That was merely a setback, and we are fortunate enough to have had the Lady in Red as a dear friend. An ally who understands the raw potentials of what it is we have tried to accomplish! An evolution that will secure our birthright to no longer be a curse! A monster fraternizing with another monster. “

Is that really what you tell yourself? You and I both know if she had to choose between herself and us, it would always be herself. Even so, I can’t help but feel like I know her from the past. A deep, forgotten memory that goes all the way back to my childhood? Why do you think that is?

“That is precisely the point I wish to make about your confusion in speaking amongst yourself. Though the name Duraxxor may have come from the Scourge itself, I have always lived within you, Alphus. I am as much Alphus as you are. And yet, I am your shadow within your soul. “

. . . The darkest thoughts that were born from our curse. The beast of rage and the chaos that swirls within our heart. You mean to tell me you are exactly what was learned within the Shadowlands? You are that fragment of my soul that is foul and destructive?

“I suppose if you wish to look at it that way? Yes. Except I am the beast, as you put it, that has kept us ongoing ever since you crumbled into tiny, little shards of a mirror that were once your core memories. Memories that have only returned because we finally. . . “

You are trailing off. You realize it too, don’t you? The woman before us at this moment. She was the key, and she has always been that key even before I died. I wish I had known sooner who I originally was in life. I wouldn’t be sitting here, holding her hand with a severed ring finger. My beloved wife. . .

“It’s not entirely your fault, Alphus. What could you do? If anything, it was my fault. It was I who chose to believe in the bitter rumors that were plastered into the minds of even our blood children. Ravlynn and Aiden couldn’t know. The legacy of that foul man was nothing more than a children’s bedtime story in their hearts. Instead of investigating that claim all those years ago, I bitterly snarled and refused to acknowledge the emotion that is love born of understanding and kindness. That is why I made the mistake of trying to wed one of my own kind. A lie in a lie. All this time, I had been chasing pieces of your wife because of old emotions I didn’t quite understand. Because as much as it pains me to admit, I am quite the malevolent thing when it comes to what makes Duraxxor. “

We both have our sins, Duraxxor. I have over five hundred years' worth of questionable morality. It’s not about the wrong and right we do. It’s about how we choose to live. To fight. People live and they also die. For what purpose, that is up to them even if another force chooses to intervene. And this lady. This woman. She chose to continue to live even in the worst possible conditions because she chose to hold onto hope. Hope that WE will come for her.

“Hmph. You mean YOU come for her. This isn’t some fairy tale that w- “

Cutting yourself off again, I see. You know that was always a nasty habit. Tell me, how did the story go again? The one she told the kids. You heard it once from them, right?

“. . .Once upon a time there was a monster, most feared by all in the land. It was a terribly angry thing, all teeth and claws. Where it walked, death followed close behind. There was also a very sad princess, who lived in the land. They say she cried so much that she put the rains to shame. The king and queen wanted the princess to marry a grand duke, but he was ugly and wicked. Rotten straight to the core. The princess cried all day and all night, because she didn’t love the duke. She could never love a man like him.”

And with good reason. Ostidal Tindervale always was quite the pisspot of a noble.

“Now that I have had the luxury of meeting that excrement, quite so. Anyhow, she told the man that she didn’t want to marry the duke, that her parents were leaving her no choice. The man took her hand, stared deep into her eyes, and told her she -always- had a choice. “

Oh, that sounds vaguely familiar. It almost sounds like something you have said once before. That WE have said before. There is always a freedom of choice.

“Are you going to keep interrupting me? The man told the princess that she could run away. He took her far away… and even though her family sent many men to retrieve her, the man killed them without mercy to protect her. that he would protect her, help her get far away from there so that she could finally be free. He was so brutal in his efforts, that it was only a matter of time before the princess realized that the man who saved her was also the monster that everyone else feared. It didn’t matter to the princess though, because by then she’d realized that she’d fallen for the monstrous man… and he was with her. “

Here comes my favorite part of the whole thing. . .

“They ran away together, married, KISSED… and lived happily ever after! ~ Mwah Mwah Mwah Mwah!~ “

It’s a wonder you and I haven’t died more than twice with how insufferable you can be, you know that? Do you understand now what I am getting at?

“Of course I do! Duke the puke was a horrid pisspot that never let things go. History has a tendency to repeat itself and the monster in the story was always. . . Me. “

It was you and I both, wasn’t it? That numb feeling even before death where one after another, we killed people that threatened our livelihood. Her livelihood. It didn’t matter who they were, what their status quo was, or even if they were the Regent Lord himself, we fought for what we felt was the right choice to make. We didn’t let others dictate it. The shadow that turned monster because the world labeled us the moment we came out of the womb.

“And speaking of Arrydhalia, I believe it’s time I let you have the floor completely. I have… certain, internal affairs to take care of. I’m sure you will intermingle really soon. “

The timing was always impeccable for us both. But, as usual, he wasn’t a dishonest creature by any means. I looked upon the face of the storyteller that had passed my legacy onto our children through story. Sunken eyes with discolored skin begin to crinkle and stir as the light of the daystar bled through the window. The grasp onto the hand that lacked a wedding finger tightened. Where said finger would interlock like, the tips of chew nubs pressed against one another like some sort of a pact. No other would have this finger, just as she promised in her own, darkest hour. And yet, as the light caressed her dark curls and brought those azure eyes to creep open, I felt this desire to sing an unfamiliar song about the day.

So Good mornin’ Good mornin’ Sunbeams will soon smile through. Good mornin’ Good mornin’ to you and you and you and you.

[ Tagging for direct mentions: @azalora-the-azerite-dragoness , @gravekeeper-anna , @safrona-shadowsun , @sanguinesorceress , and a special thank you to @nyyght not only for Arrydhalia's character but the fairy tale story that started it all. ]

[ Art credits also go to the following: @frrrozi for Azalora, @handhourgalleries for Gravekeeper and Safrona, and @caladhel-iarian for Malakortana and me for the shot of Arrydhalia sound asleep. ]

#dura #batdad #alphus #the duality of duraxxor #catch-up #rp amongst friends #life wife #Gravekeeper #Azalora #Malakortana #Safrona #Arrydhalia #story rp

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winter-sol · 2 years ago

Text

still with you

word count: 1,5k pairing: GN! reader / Leviathan contents: GN reader, SFW. angst and loneliness.

After MC time travels in Nightbringer, they find themselves longing for their loved one's presence and affection. But in the past, things are different, and their relationship with Leviathan is not the same.

Short angsty one-shot. uwu. also at ao3 here ♥

For some reason, the walls of the corridor seem endless today. Your pace is slow, you’re not in a hurry since his invitation pointed at you to come exactly at 10:20 pm. You were ready to end your day and rest at Cocytus Hall, but apparently this new DLC for a game of his promised to be really good and he wanted to try it with a second player because “It’s not like I’m asking you to play with me, ok? I only need a partner. Though, not that kind of partner!”.

That was slightly nostalgic, but also oddly… disheartening. For him to be so ambiguous and nervous again.

That’s the way things are right now. May as well do something about it and not just keep him at arm length. You could never, not when you miss him so much, even if you see him every day.

…

“Hey! Another victory for me, LOL, you suck at this game, MC.”

“I- Ah! It’s not fair, you’ve played this one much more than I have!”

“Nope. No excuses, hehehe.”

Yes, you lost again, but not that you really care. You barely know this game, and to be honest, it’s not becoming one of your favorites. Leviathan is a pro at basically every game he lays a finger on, statistically speaking, yes, you were going to lose.

But to think you’d be able to play this game one day… In the present, as he told you once, it had been discontinued for a couple hundred years.

It’s hard to believe, but that’s the reality you had to accept.

The screen is passing some cutscenes recapitulating the fight both of your characters went through, the loud music turning into background noise as your attention has gone to the aquarium. It lacks a certain member. But so do many things in this room, in this house.

Most of them look the same, though. Turns out that the House of Lamentation and every room have looked the way you remember them since the beginning, with small adaptations of course. But you can’t decide if it’s better or worse, to see it all look the same but for everything to be that different.

“…in there… that kick… was not…”

…

Even that voice. It’s the same tone, the same color. It’s as soothing and pretty as ever. But it’s not his voice. It’s not… your Levi.

“… even there?... MC…”

Of course he is, and you know you’ll fall in love with him again (if you aren’t already), and with enough luck he may fall in love with you too. But it’s not the same…

Right?

“MC?”

Shit.

What.

“What? Ahh… Sorry, I got distracted. You were saying?”

“Oh. Don’t worry” A short pause, and he adds in a fast speech. “I’m not boring you, right?”

Ah…

Ah.

You haven’t heard that one in a while, since before you two were a thing. In the present, that is.

“No, of course not. Sorry, I’ve been kinda spaced out today.”

“Oh, s-sure! Uhmmm…” Another moment of silence, a bit more tense. “I’ll go grab some drinks! I think we finished the last can of soda. Uhm, I’ll be right back, stay here!”

“Ok.”

Clearly uncomfortable, Leviathan stands and hurriedly leaves his room, leaving you there to wait for him.

Even this awkwardness… It’s been so long since Levi felt that way with you. You two had come a long way, from the demon who tried to kill you for losing a stupid quiz, to your friend, to your best friend, and to your lover.

And now, it’s like everything simply was taken away from you. And you can’t do anything about it, not for now. You can’t even confide in him; share the pain you’re going through like you used to with all your concerns and burdens in the present.

You can’t snuggle with him in his bathtub, closed space making you stay too close to each other while one of you rants about their day, about the council, the exams, the other brothers, about anything and everything.

You can’t hide beneath the covers of your bed when it’s too cold and text him to come with you, to spend the night with you so he can warm you up. To fall asleep in his arms, with the dim lights of the tree and the heat emanating from his body lulling you into your dreams. Such a simple act, to cherish his company just because you can, just because you want to.

But now, you can only look at the bathtub you forced him to accommodate for you in the present, unable to even think about stepping a foot in it.

You can only look at the similar lights you’ve placed in your new room every night, looking for a sense of familiarity, before you cry yourself to sleep.

…

Suddenly overwhelmed, you close your eyes.

A strange wave of sadness makes its way into your brain and your heart.

Can you even take this? Deal with this for who knows how long?

How is he even doing in the present? Does he somehow know you’re in here? Or is he worried, anxious and depressed at your disappearance?

He always worries a bit too much, let his thoughts go to the darkest places, expecting the worst. If only there was a way to send him a message, to let him know you’re ok, that you’re right here by his side, even if it’s not the same, even if his past self has no idea who you actually are.

It’s such a lonely concept, to be in the same place as your loved ones, but for them to be unable to see you. You love all of them, in different ways, but you do. You long for those days where everything was lively and chaotic, and they were your family, and you were theirs.

You open your eyes before you let your thoughts consume you.

Right now, there’s nothing you can do but stay right there for them, right there where they need you, and hope you can be a positive presence for them again. For now, you can only confide in Solomon, and that gives some peace to your heart.

But still, if only…

As if on cue, Leviathan enters the room carrying a bunch of cans in his arms.

“Hey! I’m back. Oh? That’s still on the screen?” He points out at the same sequence repeating, clearly indicating you hadn’t touched the game since he left.

“Ah, yeah, well, since I don’t know the game at all, I didn’t want to press anything and mess it up.” You tell him that instead of saying something like ‘I’m so sad I forgot it was even there in the first place.’ He doesn’t need to know.

“Right. Don’t worry, I’ll press it. Here. Also, I brought these ones, do you like that flavor? I heard it’s popular in here.”

You honestly have no idea what flavor of soda that is, as it doesn’t exist anymore in the present. But you can’t tell the truth since you’re supposed to be a native demon.

“It’s ok, but I prefer that other one”.

“Sure! Take it!”

He seems fine now, not uncomfortable anymore so you hide your true feelings at the back of your heart and end up playing again with him.

You guess you can’t really complain, you’re right here by your beloved demon’s side, enjoying your time together. Hopefully, Leviathan will remember a that certain someone used to spend time with him in the past, and that he was never truly alone during such hard times.

You look at his face and you can notice how bright he looks. He’s enjoying his game, laughing, making jokes, trying to sound cocky but ending up teaching you a few tricks. This scene where both of you are sitting right here, in this place, it’s so familiar. It’s nice. He’s happy with you.

He’s still the same, so you shouldn’t be sad, right?

…

“That was so cool, you got really good at this, you know?”

“Meh, I guess it’s thanks to you. You gave me all those tips. Also, who wouldn’t get better with such a handsome and cool Player 1, right?”

“MC, shut up! Hahaha.”

He laughs and tries to hide his blushed expression at the flirty comment you just threw at him. After he notices you smiling as well, he circles his arms even tighter around you, pressing his head on your shoulder, and gives you a tender kiss on your cheek.

“MC… Don’t ever leave me, ok?”

That was slightly unexpected, but you notice a sweet warmth enveloping you at his honest words.

“Idiot. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, you’ll end up looking for ways to get rid of me.”

“-! No, don’t say that! I would never!”

You only smiled and kissed his lips, reassuring him you won’t leave, not if you can help it.

That was a conversation you two had one lazy afternoon, in the same place you are right now.

But he was behind you, holding you tight against his chest while you played some stupid game together. You were loved by him, not trying to get his trust and friendship all over again.

Turns out you didn’t keep your word. You weren't powerful enough.

What a joke of a sorcerer.

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♥ also, if you want to talk and share your ideas feel free to hit the ask button ;)

thanks for reading ♥

#obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me sfw #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #leviathan x reader #leviathan x gender neutral reader #leviathan x mc #obey me nightbringer #Winter writes

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mysticstarlightduck · 6 months ago

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Incorrect Quotes Tag Game!

Thank you for tagging me @rickie-the-storyteller (here)! I really like tags like this and haven't done one in quite a while! So let's go! (I'll go with the cast of Supernova Initiative for this one)

Rules: use this incorrect quotes generator to come up with incorrect quotes for your OCs!

(It is scary how accurate these got OMG lmao)

Gabi: Hey, aren’t you Jack Tithus? The most famous thief in the galaxy? Jack (narrows his eyes suspiciously): You a cop? Gabi: No. Jack (smirks proudly): Then yes, I am.

Deimos: I’m a multitasker! Also Deimos: I can disappoint fifteen people at once.

Artemis, acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me. Cassiopeia: Yeah, Artemis will straight-up cry in public. Don't try him. Artemis: Exactly, I will straight-up - (Realizes) Cassiopeia (smug as all heck): Artemis, already tearing up: Cassie, why would you say that?!

Pax: Anybody got any crayons so I can color in my Ph. D.?

Deimos (ten years ago, babysitting Cassie for Jack): OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT?! TIME OUT! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE! GET UP THERE! (Kid) Cassiopeia: *Climbing* THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!

Meridian: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

Vesper: Hey, Aleks, where are you going? Aleks: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell. Aleks: But right now I’m going to get some fries.

Lyorna, looking at Jack: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

Cassiopeia: Hey, are you okay? Jack: Yeah. Cassiopeia: 'Yeah.' You don't look okay... Jack (jokingly, about to change the subject so fast): Well, then stop looking.

Pax: I just got the best idea I've ever had in my entire life! *Later* Ethean, to Pax, disappointed and a bit impressed: That was the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Jack: So, company is coming, I want this place looking like Disney On Ice in one minute! (frantically organizing the chaos) Cassie, if you haven't made your bed already, throw it away - it's too late to make it now! Get rid of the couches, guys, we can't let people know we sit!! The chairs need to be pushed in, there can't be any sign of living in this house - (On the verge of a mental breakdown, continues rambling)

The entire crew: (done with life)

Deimos: Vesper, is that... my mug you’re drinking out of? Vesper: No, it’s mine. Deimos: It... looks just like the one I have... Vesper (holding the mug like a gremlin): You don’t have one like this anymore.

The Director: I��ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'sadistic bastard’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’.

Deimos, playing a video game: This game is so frustrating! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! Jack: OK... then I think it’s time to turn off the game for a little while. Deimos (with the manic energy of someone who chugged three bottles of energetics at once, utterly disheveled): BUT I'M HAVING FUN!

Aleks: You... you saved me. You're not a bad guy at all. YOU'RE A HERO, AN UGLY UGLY UGLY HERO! Noctus: Call me ugly again, and maybe I will eat you.

Jack: Just wondering, did you get any sleep? Artemis: Did I get any... leap? Jack (hella confused): A what now...?

Ethean: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy? Noctus (deadpan): Quit your job, kill your family. Seriously, I can't stand Pax any moment longer-

Vesper: Your problem is that you’ve got no common sense. Aleks: No, I’ve got plenty of common sense! Aleks: I just choose to ignore it.

Deimos: Did you miss me while I was gone? Cassiopeia (being a little shit with a grudge): Oh, you were gone? Wow. Didn't even notice.

Cassiopeia (at 2AM in the morning): I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Jack (who just wants to sleep): You’re too young to have enemies. Cassiopeia: You don’t even know.

Deimos: Hi- Vesper: Leave before there's a terrible misunderstanding between my foot and your ass.

Aleks: Do I sound smart, or am I smart? Noctus: You sound unbearable, to be perfectly honest.

Deimos: Fine! I don't give a shit! Jack: You seem to give a lot of shit for someone who claims not to give a shit.

Noctus: Pick a card, any card. Jack (smirks): Fine. Noctus: Wait, that's my credit card! Jack, already running away, looking over his shoulder: You said any card.

Deimos: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Pax: O darling brother, you love me, right? Ethean (suspicious): Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Noctus (panicked): This should be illegal! Pax (having the time of his life): It is!!!!!!

Cassiopeia: But that’s censorship. Noctus: Well done. You are correct. You’re being censored. Now go away.

Jack, to Cassiopeia: I'm leaving for the weekend, so I hid 100 units in your room for food. Clean your room, and you will find it.

Meridian, putting their hands over Vesper's eyes: Guess who! Vesper: It's either Meridian or the cold, clammy hands of death. Meridian, putting their hands away: It's me! Vesper: Dammit.

Jack: Deimos likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.

Jack: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep? Cassiopeia: *also dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Yes? Jack: ...We’re in too deep.

Artemis, sniffling: Calm down, I’m probably not sick. It might just be allergies. Meridian: Okay, tell me this: are you like, really tired? Artemis: I have depression, robot-man, what do you think?

Aleks: I don’t care what anyone thinks about me. Vesper: Ok. Aleks: Wait, why such a muted reaction? Did that not sound cool?

Noctus (lying through his teeth, cause he actually does care): I just wanted to say that over the years, I have come to regard you as… people I met.

Aleks, throwing a pokeball at Deimos: Deimos, I choose you! Deimos, not looking up from his book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

Meridian: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? Gabi: Are you calling me short? Meridian: No, I'm calling you vertically challenged.

Pax: You need to be more careful! Ethean who was dragged into Pax's issue (and lost his entire career because of it): Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

Deimos: You know, I used to play back in my gory days. Artemis: ... You mean glory days? Deimos: Ah, that too.

Artemis: SSSHIT- I BURNT MY LIP- Cassiopeia: ...Why the fuck would you even drink coffee with a METAL STRAW in the FIRST PLACE?? Artemis: BECAUSE WE WERE OUT OF THE PLASTIC ONES!

The Director: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Jack: And what did we learn, Vesper? Vesper, begrudgingly: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

Ethean: What happened?! Pax: Do you want the long version or the short version? Ethean: Sh-short?? Pax: Shit's fucked. Ethean, facepalming:: Okay, long. Pax: Shit's very fucked.

Jack, opening a bottle of Hot Chocolate: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

Cassiopeia: *aggressively throws a pencil at Deimos* Deimos, deadpan: Oh no. I’ve been stabbed. I’ve been impaled.

Kaelus (Lyorna's Dad): Don’t worry, I have a permit. The Junction: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.

Kaelus: Exactly. NOW GET OUT OF MY FUCKING PLANET -

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

#wip supernova initiative #incorrect quotes tag!#incorrect quotes #writing #writeblr #writers #writerblr #my wips #character writing #my writing #my characters #writers on tumblr #science fiction

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roseblog-rog · 10 months ago

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Hello Rose Blog Enjoyers! i haven’t been posting lately because. the horrors. However, I did promise more, so here’s a very self indulgent smut work i finished a little while ago (under the read more line).

(TW for blood, wounds, and knives)

“You’ve Got A Lot of Blood.”

The comment catches me off guard, as nobody has said anything even remotely as deranged as that to me. Okay…that might be an exaggeration, but to be fair I was on my way back from the bathroom to continue sunbathing, and I’d rather not have my beach day interrupted any longer.

I turn to find a woman I’ve never seen before smirking behind me. She’s pretty, with long black hair and red lips. She’s close to my height, wearing dark sunglasses, a large sun hat, and a flowy black robe perfect for the summer weather. She’s even carrying an umbrella (to each their own I guess). Her skin is fairly pale despite the beaming sun.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a vampire. But I do know better, because vampires aren’t real. Probably.

Besides, why would a vampire be at the beach?

Exasperated, still grumpy about having to get out of my relaxing position to use the bathroom, I snap at her, even though I barely even know her. “What the fuck does that even mean?” I regret it immediately, but hold my ground against this random stranger commenting on my bodily fluids.

“Woah, you’ve got a mouth.” She moves closer to my face and grins devilishly. “I like that.” I can feel her breath, but there’s no real scent to it.

I can very faintly see her dark eyes through the sunglasses, though I can’t tell exactly what color they are. I swear I also see fangs in her mouth, two unnaturally pointy teeth sticking out, but it must be a trick of the light. It has to be.

“Who even are you?” I startle back, the prolonged closeness lasting far too long for my liking. I’m clearly in for a long conversation. Dammit.

“Your worst nightmare.” She grins again, striking some pose out of some shitty porno. To be fair, I wouldn’t really know, but I’m probably right. It’s pretty clear now this is a hookup of some kind. I’m flattered, but I also don’t really…do…hookups. Not my thing, I’d rather get to know someone for a while first. I make this clear.

“While I appreciate the flattery, I’m not really looking for a hookup. Apologies.” Her face falls to a frown, and looking a bit closer I can see traces of desperation. She gets close again, but this time her mood has completely shifted. She’s afraid, voice falling to a whisper.

“Okay look, I’m really hungry and I apologize for thinking you wanted a hookup. You’re cute, so I assumed you do this kind of thing all the time.” I blush at the compliment. “I just…I don’t want to just take people’s blood without asking and I know vampires are sexualized a lot so I guess I just…I don’t know.”

Oh.

She goes quiet.

Earth shattering realizations aside, she needs help. She is clearly not doing well, hunger and some now noticeable burns taking their toll. If I have to lose some blood, fine, as long as there are no needles. Plus I still have some snacks left in my bag.

I sigh, beach relaxation already long gone.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?”

I understand why she was at the beach of all places now. She lives nearby, a quaint little beach house down the shoreline. Inside, the lights are off, and the curtains are drawn shut.

“I was also turned very recently, and I’m still getting used to everything. That’s why my methods thus far have been, well, unconventional.” She laughs sadly.

I’m helping her apply burn cream in the places she can’t reach, the only light coming from the soft glow of candles scattered around the house. We talk about our lives while softly rubbing the rough patches of her skin. It’s…well, it’s nice.

When we finish, I ask the big question. “So…are you going to bite my neck? I’m not really sure how this actually works.”

She hesitates. “I think so? To be honest, I’m still unsure myself.“ She looks…guilty. “I haven’t actually, uh, had any blood yet? But I know I need it cause regular food wouldn’t go down and I…” She stops, clearly nervous.

“You what?” I ask, cautious.

“I can smell it.” She mutters, eyeing my skin with a sort of contained insanity.

Okay. Not how I expected my day to go, but that’s what life is all about I suppose. “How about we figure it out together? Maybe build up to biting?” I am pointedly ignoring the slight warmth that fills my body when I mention being bit.

“Oh! Yeah, that would work. Uhm, I can make small little cuts with a kitchen knife to build myself up to eating blood. They won’t scar, don’t worry. Besides, it could also build you up to the pain that biting will probably cause.” I blush fiercely, but nod. Thank gods the lighting is dim.

She smiles.

“Well then, let’s get this over with.”

I’m sitting on her kitchen tile while she finds a knife. I took my shirt off but still have my bra and shorts, not really wanting to show a stranger any more skin than I had to.

With the chaos at the beach and applying burn cream, I never actually stopped to really look at her. She genuinely is pretty, with two fangs now very clearly shimmering as she pulls a knife out of a caninet, red eyes glowing and twitching as she looks at my more exposed skin.

She sits down in front of me, candles still glowing all around us. The knife looks sharp, new. Dangerous.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks, glancing down warily. Her hands are ever so slightly shaking.

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Do I trust her enough to run a blade across my skin? To feed herself with my blood like her life depended on it (which it does)? To sink her fangs into my neck? To lose herself as she drinks from me? I shudder.

“Yes. I trust you.” Let’s hope I don’t regret it.

She nods and gets closer to me. I can feel her breath on my body again, warm air pressing gently against my chest as she raises the knife up to touch me. I can see it in her face: she cares. She’s trying to be as careful as possible, afraid of hurting me any more than she has to. My heart stutters ever so slightly.

The blade is now touching my skin, gliding like a feather all over. It’s cold, and I occasionally get the chills. She hasn’t made any cuts yet, hasn’t pressed down even slightly to draw blood, but from the fire in her eyes I can tell she wants to.

And then a sharp pain hits me above my left breast. I flinch, a small whimper falling from my lips.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes flick back and forth between the cut and my face. She licks her lips, but still holds back. I can feel a few drops of blood slowly sliding down to stain my bra. It feels warm. Fuck, it actually feels…good. The adrenaline is already pumping, and I look down to see the red liquid continuing to drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip. It’s beautiful.

“I want more.” The words surprise us both as they leave my mouth, and I almost go to backtrack and apologize before she smirks. She brings her face close to mine, her lips just barely touching my ear.

“So do I.” She whispers, and from the sensation of it alone I whimper again. She’s already lost it, I’m thinking to myself, as she quickly bends forward to lick up every last drop of my life force with no hesitation. My skin gets wetter and more sensitive from her tongue’s movements, and I bite my lip to hold back a moan.

I think I’m losing it too.

Once satisfied with the first cut, she quickly brings the knife back up to my skin to glide across it more. This time she doesn’t wait, very quickly making a new cut above the right breast this time. She starts licking the new wound, far more eagerly than the first time. This time I can’t contain myself and start to moan softly. I can feel my underwear getting wet already. Fuck.

This continues for what feels like hours. Cut after cut, lick after lick. It doesn’t hurt enough to cause serious detriment or extreme blood loss, but each time the blade presses deeper I still feel that sharp pain, that adrenaline. It’s addicting. I’ve quickly become a shaking whimpery mess, and my desperation for more only makes her increasingly eager to drink. To feed. My body is completely smeared red, the blood also coating her face. Her lips. I can smell the iron now, that intoxicating metallic smell only making me wetter. I never want this to end. I want her to keep draining me of my life force, to keep using me as nothing more than a glorified blood bag. I need her to drink me until there’s nothing left.

However, to my disappointment, she moves the blade off of my skin, lifting it up to a few inches from my face. It’s covered in red at this point, with a few drops still gliding down the blade. Behind it I see her, also drenched. She licks her lips to catch a stray drop of red. Hot.

“I was just gonna lick it off the blade…but I have a better idea.” She rubs all the blood from the knife onto the lower half of my face, and I shake even harder. Once the blade is cleaned off, my face now painted to her liking, she places it off to the side. I can feel every drop of my essence slowly falling from my face down to my neck.

She then gets closer, bringing her lips close to mine. I lean in, but she places a finger against my mouth. I can taste the iron. “Look at you, so desperate for more. It’s adorably pathetic.” My body continues to shake. “You’re more into this than I am! You sure you aren’t a vampire? Or are you really just a canvas, eager to be drenched and painted to my liking?” She smirks, then, pushing her finger into my mouth. I instinctively start to suck on it, the taste of my life force already filling me. She chuckles. “That’s what I thought.”

As I continue to suck, she starts to lick my face. She starts at the cheeks, but slowly and subtly moves down further and further. The jaw. The chin. By the time I realize she’s licking a spot on my neck with extra time and care, she’s already going for a bite.

The feeling of fangs penetrating my skin is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I inhale sharply, bracing. But then it hits me. The feeling of her fangs inside my skin, drinking. I feel my blood pumping, feel it being sucked out of me. The pain is absolutely euphoric, and I can already feel my warm essence dripping down my neck. I moan wildly. I hear her moan as well, whether from pleasure or a satiated hunger. Maybe both.

I keep squirming from sheer pleasure alone, even as she pulls her fangs out to start licking the two marks in my neck. It’s all so warm. I can’t stop the whimpers and moans from leaving my mouth, so much so that she starts subtly grinding her knee against my crotch as she feeds. She’s absolutely drenched in my life force, painted red just like me.

We are both bloody and beautiful, and everything feels wonderful.

Eventually, though, she falls back and lies down, sighing in relief. I look at her, the candlelight illuminating her frame. She’s breathing deeply, coated in red with a soft smile on her face. She’s really pretty. Everything feels so warm and fuzzy and…blurry. I realize now that I was getting so lost in the pleasure of it all I didn’t realize that I lost a lot of blood. A lot of it.

“B..bag.” I’m swaying now, an absolutely goofy grin on my face from how wonderful everything was. I feel close to fainting. She looks at me, confused, and I see in her face exactly when she realizes what’s happening. She mutters a curse and goes to grab my bag.

There’s blood all over me, completely staining my bra and shorts. The floor surrounding me is also covered, and I run a finger across it to get another taste of iron. I can feel my skin start to harden, my life force starting to dry up. I still feel so much pleasure I can hardly think straight...or maybe that’s the blood loss.

She runs back in with my bag and fishes out a nutrient bar for me to eat. I take slow bites, my breathing starting to level. When I finish, I collapse into her arms and mutter a “thank you.”

“Wha—thank you, ya dork! I’m the one that needed this.” She chuckles fondly and I smile. I feel myself drifting into sleep, and the last thing I feel are her fingers running through my hair.

#(ro)s(e)mut #nsft #blood #tw blood #wounds #tw wounds #knives #tw knives #vampire #i am actually the most normal ever

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got-into-worm-by-mistake · 5 months ago

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Insinuation 2.9 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

I had been justified in everything I had said and done, right?

Yes, Taylor, 112 fucking percent.

Maybe it was just because I wasn’t used to violence or raising my voice.

Yes, that's exactly it, now get back to asserting yourself. Even if it does mean leading yourself down the 'Warlord of Brockton Bay' career Path.

Alec grinned as I came back, but I couldn’t decide if it was because he was glad or if it was at my expense.

Based on what I know of him from fic, probably mostly at your expense, at this point.

“Glad you came back,” Lisa told me, a bit of a smile on her face, “Alec, can you go get the first aid kit? It might be in the storage closet.”

Lisa probably is. Didn't Taylor remind Lisa of her brother that committed suicide or something?

There was only one spot of real damage, a puncture where it looked like a fang had buried itself deep in the top of my forearm and then dragged an inch or so down towards my wrist as it made its exit. The area around it was already turning colors with bruising. I wasn’t sure how deep the puncture was, but I was pretty sure it should have been hurting more than it did. The blood from the injury had trickled down my arm, and was still welling out.

I shudder to think how many injuries and scars Taylor will have by the end of this

“That was awesome, you know,” Alec told me, as he returned with the first aid kit, “I didn’t think you had it in you to kick someone’s ass.” I glared at him, but he just sat on the back of the sofa, his legs kicking like an excited kid.

I'm not sure Taylor realized she had it in her, tbh.

Alec complained, “We all do, Brian made us all take a comprehensive class less than a week after we were gathered as a team. Such a pain in the ass, believe me. He’ll make you do it too.” “I already did,” I admitted, “One of the first things I did.”

Good old planning schemer Taylor.

Brian just looked at me and flashed that boyish smile again. I looked away, embarrassed that a guy like him would get pleased like that on my account.

On the other hand, for all the reasons that people consider Taylor into girls, she definitely does also seem to be pretty clearly into guys.

The other day someone, while making a shitty argument about what fanfic is, said something to the effect of 'brian wasn't shipped with Taylor' in Worm, which... I mean, yes, technically, because OG characters aren't 'shipped' by their own writers, but also like... I mean...

That's pretty fucking shippy text right there.

While Alec continued laughing, Brian got to his feet and ran up to the smaller boy, at which point he got Alec in a headlock and began punching him in the shoulder repeatedly. This abuse only made Alec laugh harder in between his cries of pain.

Is Alec just a masochist, or what? :rofl: (More likely this is mostly just roughhousing, but w/e)

“It’s a bit complicated to explain, but basically, Alec can get into people’s nervous systems. This lets him fire off impulses that set off reflexes or make body parts jerk into motion. It’s not a dramatic power, but with timing, he can make someone fall over midstep, drop something, lose their sense of balance or pull the trigger on a gun.”

Really, seems like the Undersiders' whole schtick is powers that don't seem flashy but can be overoptimized. That's super powerful, situationally.

Sitting a few feet away, Bitch muttered, “They aren’t freakish.”

Yes, you fucking psychopath, they absolutely are.

(Whether or not I will grow to like her later doesn't mean I like her now)

It was hard to think of Rachel by her real name. Bitch seemed really fitting given the stunt she had pulled. I apologized to Lisa, “Sorry.”

Right there with you. But honestly, I'm with the PRT. Hellhound works better. I would not be able to take myself seriously calling someone by the codename 'Bitch' all the time.

Lisa added, “It’s not just hearing. It also cuts off radio signals and dampens the effects of radiation.”

Powers. Are. Bullshit.

It was like someone had taken a scalpel to reality and the blackness was what was there when everything else was gone.

So.... Vantablack?

Vantablack.

(Also, that is quite evocative, and yet not descriptive at all, but damn if it doesn't make the point)

“Home, I guess,” I admitted, “My dad will wonder where I am.”

The only member of the Undersiders with a concerned parent.

“Taylor, if there’s anyone that’s making you make this call… the bullies or someone else, tell me everything is fine. If you’re not in trouble, tell me your mother’s full name.”

And the prize for "Father trying his best to actually be a good dad for change" goes to...

(genuinely though, he is trying)

“Better than ever. I kind of made some friends,” I said.

I wouldn't go that far yet. You haven't even committed any crimes together yet.

“They seem like good people,” I lied.

I mean, for a given value of 'good', it's not even a lie.

#Worm #Wormblr #The Undersiders #Taylor Hebert #Alec Regent #Since as Alec he seems to have no last Name #Kylia Reads Worm #Insinuation 2.9

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago

Text

Part 3 - With flying colors

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 -- Part 4

Pairing: Mike x OFC (Danielle)

Warnings: Smut! 18+ (Minors DNI). shower sex, oral (M receiving), swearing, general awkwardness. There's some footnotes... Those always scare me...

Summary: Dani spends the night at 179th Crescent Street and meets the roommates in the morning...

Word count: 5.8k

If you catch any mistakes, just know that Daddy August doesn't take kindly to tattletales... 😏😏

A/N: Not a lot of smut here - but some of it. Lot's of ~social interaction~. Also, for anyone trying to figure out where exactly these guys go to uni: CANDYLAND, okay? I'm most familiar with Dutch uni's, but some US College-type things snuck in... It's a hot mess, and we're gonna keep it that way.

Finding the perfect movie to watch on a date is not easy. The tragedy commences as soon as someone shoves their Netflix account in your face. Let’s be really clear about one thing: Everything on Netflix blows. There’s too much and too little at the same time, the suggestions are all terrible, they always have that one movie that reminds you of the one you’re actually looking for, but that’s never on there. It’s a nightmare. Then, there’s the selection process itself - and with that a shocking amount of social protocol to navigate. As a woman, you obviously can’t make any unsavory intentions too obvious. Which means you can’t pick something that’s so bad that he instantly knows you’re not interested in watching, but you don’t want to pick something you actually end up watching. And it is slim goddamn pickings in that ‘don’t mind watching, but don’t mind not watching’-category.

“Hi, guys!” It sounded dull, what with the door being closed and everything, but it was definitely Mikey.

Someone else, whose voice you didn’t recognise, replied to his greeting. “Don’t you have company?”

“Yeah, speaking of: Could you keep it down tomorrow morning?” Mike again. Who was he asking? He’d said ‘hey guys’, plural. Who else was out there?

“Of course.” That was definitely a second mystery voice.

“Thanks! G‘night, guys! Nice to meet you, Elena!” Mike’s voice got louder until you could tell he was right outside the door.

“Hey!” Mike smiled at you when he walked in. He quickly shut the door behind him. “Pick something?”

“Eh, no,” you said. Why were you blushing? Why was your heart already out of control?

“Stakes aren’t high, babe,” he walked over and pressed his face into your neck. “Probably won’t see much of it, anyway.” His intentions were probably just sweet and cheeky in a 'can't keep my hands off you' kind of way, but your insecurities really saw their chance and took it.

“That’s the only reason I’m here, isn’t it?” You knew it. You fucking knew it. It took everything you had to not burst into tears; they already burned behind your eyes.

“Are you kidding me? I like you!” Mike looked at you, entirely confused - the only thing missing were cartoon question marks over his head. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. How many times had you heard that before? Mike closed the distance between the two of you and took your face in his hands. “I don’t take girls I don’t like out on dates, Dani.” He looked at you, brows furrowed, one side raised. And that smile. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips, your thoughts went from “punch” to “kiss” and back again so fast it gave you an emotional whiplash.

Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you finally said something: “You’re not exactly taking me out, now are you?” Fuck, you could just about kill him right now. It wasn’t that you had an issue with hooking up, absolutely not, but you did have a problem with being led on.

“Woah, okay, back up.” He put his hands on your shoulders and stepped away from you. “So we agree that this,” he gestured at the both of you, “is a date?”

You snorted derisively. “I’ll agree that I thought this was a date, until about two minutes ago.”

Mike breathed in deeply, his head fell back and you could practically see him count to ten.

“Okay, we agree that when you stepped through this door, like, two hours ago, you thought this was a date, then?” The way he held you messed with your head; at arm's length, hands heavy on your shoulders. Intimate, but distant... You just nodded in reply to this question.

“And so did I. Still do.” He said it so matter-of-factly that you almost laughed. When he took another deep breath, it seemed like he had a better handle on himself than before.

“Okay, so I mentioned taking you out on a date, and you said that this wasn’t ‘out’,” he thought about that for a second. “Does that mean that you think this is the only time we’ve been together that the word date could refer to?”

“Mike, could you fucking stop treating this like a programming issue?” It was your turn to grow impatient.

“How is this not like a programming issue?” He retorted. “If I don’t get the output I’m after, something’s gotta be wrong with the input. Just… Humor me, okay?” You rolled your eyes.

“Alright: yes. Mostly because you asked me out two days ago, and I haven’t seen you since.”

“Okay, I see,” Mike grinned. God, how that annoyed you right now. “Dani, when I asked you if you wanted to go to the movies with me, and you said yes, and we, y’know… Went.” Oh Jesus. “I meant for that to be a date. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear about that.”

You tried to convince yourself that this could have happened to anyone. It had happened to you, but it could have been anyone. Ariel and Sloane would have a field day if they heard this. Despite that, you were still going to tell them. Mike looked at you questioningly.

“You didn’t kiss me or anything,” you murmured, while you looked at the floor.

“Too nervous,” he chuckled, “that’s what I tried to make up for when you came in.” The distance between your bodies got smaller as you stepped forward, your arms reaching for him, and pulling him in. Strong arms wrapped around you and squeezed gently. With a sigh, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of his body.

“See,” he said softly, his head buried in your neck, “fix the input, get the right output. Programming issue.”

“Damn, computer nerd,” you laughed as you nudged him with your shoulder as best you could. All of a sudden, he put his hands back on your shoulders and pushed you away. For a second, you were afraid you had offended him with the nerd-remark, but then you saw his face. On it, was hands down the dirtiest fucking grin you had ever seen in your life. He licked his lips - you had to choke back a moan when he did: it was so incredibly sexy.

“What?” You asked, but he just looked at you. “Mike, what the fuck is going on?”

“You hooked up with me on what you thought was our first date.” There were three options: you were losing your mind, needed glasses, or he found that thought very entertaining.

Your cheeks burned, and you were sure he could tell. He followed up on his observation with a single word that set every nerve in your body on edge: “Hot.”

The kiss that followed ended way too soon. When he let go of you and stepped away, you noticed it was quite cold. You made your way over to the bed so you could get back under the covers, but Mike grabbed your waist when you passed him and grinned at you. The sudden touch - and the cold - made you shiver. You looked up when Mike chuckled. His eyes summarized him perfectly: horny and cheeky.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower…” You didn’t need much time to pick up on that hint.

The bathroom wasn’t big, but it was nicer than you’d expected. You didn’t realize you were looking around with an open mouth until Mike pointed it out.

“It’s just so… clean.” It was nothing like the student bathrooms you were familiar with - especially not the ones in houses with only men living in them. Or mostly men - or any men. Hell, your own bathroom - and your house was all girls - was messier than this. If by messy you meant: ‘regularly looked like someone bombed a Sephora’. You just couldn’t connect the state of the room to the idea that it was shared by four guys.

“I am one hundred percent sure August will commit bloody fucking murder if we make a mess of this place,” Mike laughed, as he turned the water on, “and I’m about eighty percent convinced that Sherlock won’t think twice to help him cover it up.”

“These guys sound colorful,” you said hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of the remark.

“Oh, things get interesting, for sure,” his laugh echoed a lot less now that the water was running, “but I don’t really want to talk about my roommates right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, what did you want to talk about, then?” The whole false naivety schtick worked very well on Mike, you noticed, as you closely watched his reaction to your doe-eyed coyness. He stepped around you, with his signature playful laugh on his face, and reached out to lock the door. In the meantime, you let your sweatpants drop to the floor. Luckily, his t-shirt was long enough to cover you up - you knew you wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer, but it was nice to not be completely exposed.

“I wasn’t planning on talking much, ba-” the shape of his mouth changed from the interrupted a into a silent o. As his eyes changed and his mouth morphed - once again - into a devilish smirk, you were certain that this mischievous piece of work would be the death of you.

“I think that’s mine.” He said dryly, holding out his hand to signal that he wanted his t-shirt back. Now that you no longer felt in control, shyness started to set in. Your fingers rolled the hem of the fabric between them, and it suddenly felt extremely hot in the room. He noticed - of course he noticed! It’s Mike, and he noticed things nobody noticed. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t always a fair trade against missing things no one else missed. That’s what he’d told you right after you had asked him why he was like that - he had quoted Awolnation’s Sail1 by means of an answer.

“C’mon beautiful, I want that back,” he grinned, his tongue darting briefly, wetting his lips. The only thing you could think about was the way he called you beautiful, and the hungry look in his eyes. Very slowly, and as sensually as you could manage, you started to undress. Your fingers trailed your thighs, your hips, your stomach, to finally linger at your chest before pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it to him. Before he could get to you, you stepped into the shower.

“Your turn,” you giggled softly, and blew him a kiss.

It took him less than ten seconds to join you. Hands wrapped around your waist and spun you around so fast that you were sure you'd both slip and fall. When you didn’t, you looked at the non-slippery floor in surprise.

“One of us almost broke his neck once,” Mike said while running a hand through his hair, “and we tend to learn from past mistakes.”

“And this guy,” you laughed, “did he happen to be you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” His face told you more than enough. Even with his hair all wet, and in this horrible bathroom lighting, Mike was cute. The horrible lighting probably wasn’t something you should have thought about. Why did it have to be so bright? And there was nowhere to hide! You looked around, almost frantically. There was one place to hide, or at least conceal most of your body from his sight. You leaned into his body, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He was hard, and the feeling of his cock against your body made you wince.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologized, “can’t help it. You’re just so fucking gorgeous.” The way he said it was so sincere, so reassuring, that you finally allowed yourself to relax and melt into his embrace. The heat of the water running over your back really helped. You traced the muscles of his back for a while, and he moaned quietly at your touch. After some time, you moved your hands to his chest, resulting in a groan that sounded almost offended.

“Sorry, my hands are getting a little cold,” you said without thinking about it.

“Imagine how my back feels,” he retorted. You must have looked really guilty, because his signature grin broke through the almost cynical mask on his face and he laughed. “It’s okay, baby, I would’ve said something if it wasn’t.” He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. There was a rough edge to it that made your heart pound in your chest - a roughness that hadn’t been there before. For the second time today, you could hardly believe what this guy did to you. Mike was grinding against you as his mouth left yours and dipped into your neck, instead. Your fingers snaked into his hair and pulled him closer while he licked and nipped at the skin of your neck, sucking the most sensitive spots. He occasionally moved up to moan into your ear, and it drove you absolutely wild. Hot water, cold air, soft lips - there were plenty of sensations to choose from, and they all seemed to turn you on one way or another. You both let your hands wander over each other's bodies while entangled in that very wet kiss. Shocked by your own initiative, you reached a hand between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around him. Mike’s mouth found yours again and he turned both of you around so he could lean back against the wall. You stroked him a couple of times, chuckling softly as he moaned into your ear. It felt great, seeing him like this. He sucked your bottom lip in between his teeth.

“No, keep going,” he groaned into your mouth when your hand stopped moving. You pulled your lip free from his grip and moved to his ear. He shivered when you licked his earlobe, and you felt his cock twitch in your hand.

“Is it good?” You whispered.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “very.” You kissed his neck below his ear, then his jaw, his throat. The sound he made when he realized where you were headed2 was charmingly depraved - you couldn’t smile any wider if you tried. Unfortunately, you hadn’t thought this all the way through; the shower floor was rough on your knees, but you figured you’d just have to suck it up3. The bigger problem was the water: most of it came down straight on your head right now, and it made the task at hand4 significantly more difficult. Luckily, Mike reached up to solve this little problem. Part of you expected him to hog all the water and leave you there, freezing, but he didn’t - you decided that these levels of consideration deserved a reward. He struggled to keep quiet as you dragged your tongue all the way along his length. It seemed less scary now. You easily settled on the comfortable depth and rhythm you had before - with similar reactions from Mike - yet something in the back of your mind encouraged you to take it a bit further. Slowly, carefully, you took more of him into your mouth. It wasn’t easy, but the ecstatic squeal that Mike let out made it more than worth it.

“Fuck,” he breathed so softly that you could barely hear him over the sound of the water. You could tell he was trying really hard to stay still, which was very much appreciated. It was already difficult enough to focus on not choking without having to worry about him bruising the back of your throat. His ragged breathing and the slew of profanity that erupted from him as your lips finally reached the base of his cock were beginning to make you feel very good about yourself. You should have known - right when everything seems to go well, tragedy strikes.

“Hey, lovebirds, get out of the fuckin’ shower!” The voice appeared suddenly, accompanied by the slamming of a fist against the door - hard. Twice - and it startled both of you. Mike’s brilliant reflexes made him jerk his hips, which hurt - like a bitch, by the way - and made you gag. Your reaction, however, was far worse. As soon as you could, you let go of him and curled up on the floor in the opposite corner of the shower, making yourself as small as possible. Sloane’s hysterical laughter echoed through your head already. How exactly were you going to tell them this? We were getting it on in the shower and I was going down on him and it was going remarkably well, until his roommate knocked on the door and startled me so much I bit him, or something? Actually, that was probably exactly what you were going to tell them - before dying of embarrassment, that is.

“Sy, fuck off,” Mike yelled back through gritted teeth. That name sounded strangely familiar to you, you just couldn’t figure out why. Not that you were really trying to. “I swear to God, I’m going to fucking kill you!” He turned his attention to you, pulling you into his arms. You hadn’t even noticed him getting down onto the floor with you. “Dani, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” It was nice to rest your head against his chest.

“You’re asking me?” It sounded like a bad joke. “What about you?”

“I’m fine, come here.” He chuckled. “You never answered me.”

“Mortified, but not hurt,” you declared in a surprisingly upbeat way.

“Noted,” Mike nodded, “then, if neither of us are hurt, do I have your permission to find this whole thing fucking hilarious?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” you said, but you were already laughing.

Mike owned a suspiciously large amount of pillows - for a man, anyway. He’d tossed all of them into the corner, and then he’d grabbed you and sent you flying the same way like it was absolutely nothing. Now, you were curled up beside him with your head on his shoulder while you played with his hair. It was still damp from the shower.

“So, who else lives here,” you were already pretty anxious about running into any of the guys in the house tomorrow morning - to the point of wanting to escape out the window in the middle of the night.

“Alright,” Mikey smiled, “no need to be nervous. They’re all great guys!” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed at how he always just knew. Maybe you were just anxious a lot, that was entirely thinkable. You didn’t get a lot of time to think that through - and you probably shouldn’t have wanted to, anyway - because Mike continued: “You’ve met Marshall - eh, Walter. We usually use his last name. Criminology major.” He paused again, trying to organize his thoughts.

“Ok, on the ground floor, we have Napoleon. We usually call him Leon - you get why. Does something along the lines of Business Administration, with a minor in Art History.” Art history - not immediately something you had expected to come across in a house like this.

“First floor: Marshall. And then Walker, eh, I mean: August. Third year Political Science with a minor in Criminal Justice."

"The guy who would kill you for making a mess of the bathroom."

"I feel Walker would kill me for a bunch of reasons…" Something about the way he said it made you wonder whether or not Mike was joking. You couldn’t help but point out that this Walker guy didn’t sound very nice.

"Nah! He's great! Very consistent, I like it. He's a good time when he's drunk."

"He sounds like a jerk, Mike."

"And he kinda is, but he also isn't." He laughed at the puzzled look on your face. " He’s complicated. You'll see what I mean."

"I'll take your word for it. Who's next?"

"Charles Brandon, he…" Mike's eyebrows shot up when you interrupted him.

"Ladies man, very much opposed to the concept of monogamy. Little respect for other people's relationships. Does that cover it?"

"Just about. He majors in Political Science, same year as Walker, and he's very good friends with the dean's son," Mike continued the profile, "He's a great wingman, too." He added thoughtlessly.

"Don't need to know, Mikey!" You shoved him so hard he almost fell over.

"Ow! Sorry! Second floor; Geralt. Majors in Mythology and Folklore. And then Sy, the guy who…”

“Made me almost bite your dick off?” A sarcastic laugh escaped from your throat. You absolutely dreaded meeting this guy; he was already responsible for one of the most awkward moments of your life - so far - and you still couldn’t shake the thought that his name sounded very familiar.

“Yup,” Mike laughed, “he’s cool though. Not a great wingman, had a habit of stealing my chicks... OW! Would you stop that, I’m just joking.”

“Are you?” You hated when the insecurities hit you like this.

“Well, mostly. Trust me, I don’t miss striking out at the bar.”

“Do you miss… not striking out?” You looked at Mike, waiting for him to say ‘no’.

“That sounds like a trap, I’m not going to answer that.” Smart man. You shrieked when he tickled you. “Anyway, that’s Sy. Then upstairs; Sherlock. Holmes. Third year Law and second year Philosophy, last thing I heard he was also taking some classes in Psychology. He’s not even nineteen, by the way.” It took you a while to process all of that. You had enough trouble with one major, let alone two. And did Mikey just say this guy was not only your age, but two years above you? Mike saw your face, and laughed. “He’s a genius.”

“I think I’ve heard of him,” you said. You weren’t quite sure where you’d heard the name before, but it was unusual enough that you remembered it very distinctly.

Mike’s next sentence cleared up that confusion: “Oh, and he’s the first violinist of the university orchestra. He and the second violinist, Elena - I actually just saw her for the first time - practice together every Saturday afternoon. He usually starts in the morning, though, but I’ve asked him to keep it down.”

“And he said he would?” Sherlock sounded like the friendliest guy in the house so far.

“Oh, yeah, he never makes a point of it when we ask. But we let him have the two or so days before a concert, that’s the deal.”

“So, with seven other guys in the house, he never gets to really play?” You wondered out loud.

“Oh, no, you’re safe until about eleven. But he’s good, a billion times better than any alarm. I stopped asking him to keep it quiet for anything other than a potential hangover a long time ago.”

“But you did ask him just now?”

“Yeah, for you. Didn’t want it to wake you up if you didn’t want that.” He presses a kiss on your hair. You buried your face in his neck, in hopes of hiding the fact that you were blushing like crazy, but you were well aware that Mike was onto you.

“And the girl? Are they, like, together?” You never imagined that you’d be so invested in the goings-on in this house.

“We don’t know for sure. Leon keeps track of the bets. I’m pretty sure all of us are in on one of those, at least. I believe I’m out twenty if he doesn’t sleep with her by Christmas.” Ah, there it was: The kind of stuff you expected from a house like this. You rolled your eyes and pulled the comforter snugly around you as Mike put on the movie you’d settled on.

Walking into that kitchen was definitely one of the scarier things you’d ever done. Luckily, there was only one person in it when you and Mikey got there. His appearance was striking, with the silvery hair and very light-brown eyes that were almost the color of honey.

“Morning,” the guy said stoically when you walked in, and he put the newspaper he was reading down on the table.

“Danielle, Geralt. Geralt, Danielle.” You were really grateful that Mike took care of the introductions. “Coffee, Dani? G?” Both of you nodded. The kitchen was big and bright, and looked well taken care of. You noticed that the appliances weren’t falling apart like they were at your house.

“You can sit down, I don’t bite my roommates' girlfriends,” Geralt said dryly.

“Just your own?” It was out before you even realized you opened your mouth in the first place. You were about ready to sink into a hole in the floor when Geralt laughed. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because someone else stepped into the kitchen.

“Damn, Mikey, she might actually be able to survive this circus!” How many Brits lived in this house? And why did all of these guys look like they had run away from the covers of magazines? The guy in question turned around to you: “Charles, nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m…”

“Danielle. The girl who stole my wingman.” He extended a hand to you, and you took it with the intention to shake it. Instead, he brought it to is lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

“Hands off, Brandon,” Mike slapped him against the back of his head with a teatowel. “And take Leon, if you need a wingman so badly.”

“Leon doesn’t need a wingman, girls flock to him offering services in exchange for a discount.” Charles started laughing, while your confusion grew.

“And some of those girls, I sent to you,” a new voice retorted. The kitchen was quickly becoming crowded. “Or to Mikey.” You saw Mike make a not-so-subtle gesture in your direction to signal the newcomer - whom you guessed had to be Napoleon - to shut up.

“I’m sorry, didn’t see you there. Napoleon, call me Leon.” He actually shook your hand. “If you ever need anything, term paper, answers to a test, talk to Mikey.” He laughed. This guy was dangerously charming.

“Thanks, but I don’t suck dick for good grades.”

“Well, maybe computer science,” Mikey said with a wink. You stared at him, unable to believe he just threw you in front of the bus like that - careful not to let your mouth fall open: you were sure it would look even weirder than it already did. Luckily, Geralt caught your distress and kicked Mike in the shins.

“Thanks, I couldn’t reach.” You said sourly while Geralt grinned and the rest laughed. Mike put two cups of coffee on the table and sat next to you. Charles took the last cup from the pot and left the kitchen with it.

“No coffee?” you asked Mike.

“Not if I want to stay awake,” he laughed. When you looked at him funny, he pointed at his head. “My wacky brain,” was the only explanation he offered, and then he shrugged. Leon took it upon himself to make a new pot of coffee.

“Walker here?” A somewhat familiar voice sounded from just outside the kitchen. It belonged to Walter Marshall, whom you had met when you arrived yesterday.

“Don’t think he will be,” Geralt answered. You noticed that his voice startled you - despite having heard it before. It seemed to go against some law of nature for him to speak.

“How so?” Mike was often a tad too curious, but this time you didn’t mind - it sounded like there was some kind of drama here, and you were invested already.

“Anjelica showed up.” For anyone who lived here - or anyone else who knew who Anjelica was and what she was to August Walker, that was enough information. Mike turned his head to you.

“Girlfriend,” he said plainly, and you figured you could fill in the rest.

“Not if you ask him,” Leon scoffed. He leaned casually against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew.

“He loves her,” Geralt interjected dryly, as if that settled the matter.

“You hear anything?” Mike asked with a filthy grin on his face.

“I hear everything, Mikey,” Geralt sighed. Your eyes went wide and your face turned red. Leon and Marshall laughed when they saw it; Mike tried to grab your hand off your knee, but you pulled it away.

“Ooh,” Leon and Marshall sounded at the same time. Leon murmured something along the lines of ‘someones in trouble’, while Marshall slapped the back of Mike’s head and told him: “You tell a girl about the roommate with the super senses before things get serious, Mikey.”

“What are they talking about, Mike?” You hissed at him, absolutely beyond furious. From the corner of your eye, you saw Leon pour himself a cup of coffee, before holding the pot up to Marshall, who nodded, but didn’t dare speak - they were a little too keen to see how this would play out.

“I can hear Sherlock play the violin,” Geralt said calmly, “he’s three floors up, and using a practice mute.” You were just about ready to slap Mike in the face and storm off; this was definitely something he could have shared before all of yesterday happened.

“It’s exhausting enough as is, so believe me when I say I don’t listen to everything.” He still wasn’t looking up from his newspaper. “Besides; if something is ever… repeatedly annoying…” he chose this time to shoot a meaningful look your way, “Let me put it this way: I’m sure it’s not the reason headphones were invented, but I thank my lucky stars every fucking day that they were.” Now all five of you burst out in laughter. Leon hurried to answer the door the second the doorbell rang, and didn’t return. It wasn’t long, though, before another housemate walked through the door.

“Marshall.”

“Walker.” Ah. The infamous August Walker finally made an appearance. He turned to you as soon as he set foot in the kitchen.

“You must be Danielle,” he said, “nice to meet you.” Whether he assumed you knew his name, or simply didn’t care if you did, you didn’t - and couldn’t - know. He grabbed the coffee pot off the counter, only to find it empty. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath.

“Better make plenty, Sherlock’s on his way down and Sy just woke up. And I could do with another cup, too, if you don’t mind.” Geralt said.

“Then why, pray tell, don’t you do this?” August hissed as he turned the kettle on.

“Alright, I could use a second cup as well, but now I know better than to ask you for anything in the morning, so why don’t you move out of the way and let me do it?” You shocked yourself; you were never this forward. Geralt made a half-attempt to hide his impressed smirk behind his paper, while Marshall and Mike didn’t try at all. Even August had trouble keeping his face in check - unsurprising, it had to be exhausting to frown that goddamn much.

“Charles was right,” Gerald chuckled, “you might be able to survive this circus.”

“The biggest clown is already mine,” you sighed as you got up and waved at August to get out of your way. The boys - including Mike - laughed.

“Is there any coffee left,” someone asked. The voice was soft and polite, and sounded like its owner was in desperate need of coffee.

“Coming up!” You said cheerfully as you pressed the button on the coffee maker.

“First time here and they already put you to work?”

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do if she wants coffee,” you laughed, “and I couldn’t ask Mike to do it. His coffee is terrible.” Geralt and Marshall raised their cups in agreement while Walker murmured ‘Amen’. Sherlock chuckled, somehow sounding a lot like a British version of Mike. The five of you drank your coffee mostly in silence. After August had finished drinking his, he made a cup of tea. On his way out of the kitchen with it, he was almost knocked over by Mike as he went to take some orange juice from the fridge.

“Sorry, Walker!” He said. August just mumbled something unintelligible as he went back upstairs. Mike shrugged and put the carton to his lips. You weren’t surprised that this was a habit of his, but you’d expected more protest from the other guys.

“We tried,” Sherlock answered your question - nevermind that you hadn’t actually asked it, “he just gets his own carton, now.”

“You’ll get used to the unusual communication,” a female voice said, “Anjelica Madden, hi!” She greeted you with a hug. “Sherlock, Geralt, Marshall and August you don’t even have to ask anything once,” this woman was awfully cheerful in the morning, “but Charles, Sy, Leon and that dork over there you have to ask everything twice, so it evens out.” She disappeared about as quickly and suddenly as she had appeared.

“Speaking of Sy, he’s taking his sweet time,” Marshall noted.

“Probably taking a shower,” Sherlock responded, “I understand it was occupied for quite some time yesterday.” Geralt, Marshall and Mike looked at each other in surprise. It wasn't like Sherlock to say things like that.

“And on a similar note,” Mike laughed, “have any of us won any bets yet?”

“I heard her leave, so my guess would be ‘no’,” Marshall added.

“You would be correct,” Sherlock muttered. All of a sudden, he looked so much younger than the rest of the guys in the kitchen.

“Will she be here after lunch, though?” Mike asked curiously as he got up and turned to you. “Breakfast?”

“I have no reason to assume the contrary.” Sherlock replied dryly.

“There’s food in the house?” You exclaimed quasi-surprised.

“There better be, I’m starvin’,” a familiar voice sounded behind you. Finally, now that you weren’t concerned that you had maimed Mike, you recognized the voice. Your legs felt like they were made of lead when you turned around while praying it wasn’t true. Unfortunately, when you finally looked up at the man who had just spoken, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Ari, help!” You groaned into the phone as soon as Ariel had picked up.

“Dan, what’s up?”

“I met his housemates - all of them, it was an experience, holy shit, more on that later. But, bitch, I…”

You heard some mumbling in the background - it was probably Sloane.

“Girl, Slo is here, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Hey babe!”

“Slo, oh my god, sit down. Ari, you too. Remember the guy from orientation?” There was no point in drawing this out any longer; you had to tell them.

“You mean your spectacular Southern stud, the Don of dinner down there? The prince of pussy eating perfection?” Sloane yelled in your ear.

“Enough with the alliterations, S.,” Ari laughed, “clearly, we remember. What about him?” How were they not connecting the dots on this? Normally, you were the one who was slow to pick up on these things.

“Nathan motherfucking Syverson is one of Mike’s goddamn roommates.” You felt like you were about to cry. It stayed awfully quiet on the other end of the line.

“So, red or white?” Ari asked in a deviously perky tone. You could hear Sloane’s muffled laughter in the background.

“Red,” you sighed.

A/N: Whoops, some footnotes. 1: “Blame it on my ADD” is the line we're talking about... 2: Pun intended 3: Pun not intended. Happy accident. I promise 4: I am so sorry

#179 crescent street #henry cavill fanfiction #mike (hellraiser)#mike (hellraiser) x ofc #henry cavill characters #mike hellraiser smut #captain syverson #hc sherlock #napoleon solo #august walker #geralt of rivia #walter marshall #charles brandon #mike hellraiser fanfiction #179cs #179cs3

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mumucow · 2 years ago

Text

5. “I love you.” - “You do?”

Okay, it’s here and I do feel the pressure since I got good feedback from the Seven Sentence Sunday I shared.

I will tag everyone that reblogged, don’t know if people who liked the post want to be tagged.

AO3 link:

Eddie wasn't eavesdropping, he wouldn't do that.

He liked giving Christopher his space, especially when he was with Buck.

Buck was Chris' safe space and if Eddie was being honest, it was also his. Still, he never expected to hear it.

"I love you." Chris sounded sure and confident.

"You do?" Buck's voice was clearly filled with emotion at that confirmation and Eddie wanted to punch anyone who ever made Buck feel like he didn't deserve love.

"Yes. That is why you need to ask Dad out! I'm okay with it. I would love that!"

Eddie almost choked in his saliva at those words and he was sure that Buck was just as shocked as him.

His beautiful blue eyes were probably wide open with the revelation of Chris' actual intentions.

Eddie took a step back, his breathing hitching a bit. He was aware of his own feelings after so many sessions with Frank, but was he that obvious that Christopher noticed, or was his son just eager to have a family? With Buck.

Buck had clearly reached a point of acknowledging that he wanted stability, he had shared that with Eddie. That soon he would like to settle and have a family.

Eddie could give him all that and more, he would provide Buck with all the love he truly deserves.

“Hey, boys it’s getting late.” Eddie made sure to do plenty of noise before reaching the living room, trying to pretend that he hadn’t heard that conversation even if his cheeks still felt hot.

“But, Dad…” Christopher stared at his father with the biggest puppy eyes he could pull off.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his kid before ruffling his curly air. One glance at Buck and he could see that the other was smiling as well, his cheeks colored in pink making Buck’s birthmark stand out.

“Don’t you think that you have spent enough time with Buck today at the zoo?” Eddie tried to argue, keeping his voice calm and patient. “Besides, aren’t you too cool for hanging out with a bunch of old people like us?” He teased.

“Who is old here?!” Buck gasped pretending to be offended which only made Christopher laugh.

“No one.” Eddie tried to pass his smirk as innocent as possible before turning back to Chris. “Maybe share Buck a little with me?” He said the last part a bit lower like it was a secret even if he was sure that Buck could hear it.

Eddie kept his eyes on his son as the boy left to brush his teeth. Looking back at Buck, Eddie’s heart started to race just like he had expected it.

Buck sat sideways on the couch, like he truly felt at home there, he had his head lowered but Eddie knew exactly what he was trying to hide. What should never be hidden in Eddie’s opinion, Buck’s smile was one of the most beautiful ones he has ever seen, it felt like sunshine coming through the window to warm you up on a lazy sunday afternoon. Warming you up from the inside out.

Eddie might have been staring for too long and too lost in his own mind because when he blinked and opened his eyes Buck was staring at him in confusion.

“Do you want to stay for a beer?” Eddie hoped his voice didn’t sound as strained and deep as it did to his ears.

“Yeah, sure.”

It didn’t take long for them to be sat alone on the couch, Chris already tucked into bed while the adults enjoyed a quiet moment. There was a nature documentary on tv that neither of them was paying attention to.

Eddie would let his eyes roam over to Buck every now and then, noticing that there was something wrong. Buck usually wasn’t this quiet, he had always something to say about what they were watching but instead, he was focused on the bottle of beer in his hands. More specifically peeling off the label of it.

The drink was probably already warm in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice was slow but it was enough for Buck to flinch.

“Nothing-” Buck tried but gave up right away on lying to him.

Eddie moved on the couch so his knee was pressed against Buck’s tight, somehow they always found a way for their bodies to be touching. Either at home or on the job.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

Buck set the bottle down on the coffee table before relaxing against the couch, his arm stretched over the back of it, now his full body facing towards Eddie.

“Chris asked me something…” Buck played with a thread of couch. “I don’t know if I can do it…”

“Buck…” Even if Eddie felt his heart shatter at this revelation he was still there for his best friend. He knew exactly what Chris had asked.

Eddie knew that if it was a few years before maybe Buck would have done it just to please the people he loves. To make them happy. He still does everything he can to make everyone he cares about happy.

“You know I would do anything for him right?” Buck finally looked up at him instead of watching his hands. His bright blue eyes with unshed tears, the white of his eyes turning red as he tried to keep them from falling.

“I do.” Eddie reached out, hand gently wrapping around Buck’s wrist, the one on the back of the couch. “Chris will understand.”

And Eddie would learn to live with it, that what he felt for Buck would never be reciprocal. His heart broke into tiny pieces in between them, on the pillows of the couch that Buck would never choose.

“You don’t even…” Buck sighed, taking the heel of his free hand against his eyes to take away any tears that might have escaped him. “I don’t want to ruin things.”

“You won’t.” Eddie promised, his thumb brushing along Buck’s pulse point of his wrist. Feeling the rapid heartbeat there.

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. At least with us. There is nothing you can do that will ruin things with me or Chris.”

“Eddie…” The name fall out of Buck’s tongue with so much emotion, like he wanted to say everything that was going on in his head with just one word. Like he couldn’t believe that he had this.

“It’s true…” Eddie noticed how Buck looked at him in confusion. “Chris. He does love you or he wouldn’t say it. I do need to talk to him about using that confession like that. But he does.”

Buck looked at him with wide eyes, quickly pulling away from Eddies touch like he was being burned.

“I…you heard that?” Buck sounded just as scared as he looked.

“I did, I didn’t mean to.” Eddie sighed, putting some space between them. Already picking up the little pieces of his broken heart and storing them in a box where it wouldn’t be ever be touched again. “I get it. And I am proud of you. I know you love Chris just as much he loves you but you don’t have to do what he asks if you don’t want to.”

“What?”

There was a moment of quiet between them, everything settling down. Sinking in. Eddie’s heart beating so damn hard that it made everything else disappear. Until Buck was reaching for him, it was just a brush of fingers on Eddie’s hand but it was enough to make him let go of the breath he was holding.

“It’s not like that, Eddie. I…shit.” Buck closed his eyes for a few seconds before blinking them open again, a hint of fear there. “I’m scared that if I do it…I will screw things up.”

“Buck, I told you. There is nothing you can do that will screw things up.” Eddie couldn’t help but smile. He looked at their hands which were now intertwined.

“I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t do that. You and Chris are like…” Buck choked up a bit on those words.

“Your safe space?” Eddie offered and saw the acknowledgment on Buck’s face, his lips curling into a smile.

“Exactly.”

“You are the same. For Chris and me.”

“Really?” There was a bit more confident in Buck’s smile, his eyes shining a bit more, and no more tears threatening to fall.

“So, don’t you have something to ask me?” Eddie licked his lips expectantly, his heart was slowly but surely getting back together with every little thing that Buck was giving him.

The soft squeeze of their hands, the soft smiles and gazes. They were more than fine.

“Just because this amazing kid asked me to and I can’t say no to him.” Buck teased back before they got closer.

Buck’s free hand resting right above Eddie’s knee. Their face were so close that Eddie could count Buck’s eyelashes, he could see all the shades of blue in the other man’s eyes. Just everything about Buck was beautiful, especially his heart and soul.

“Eddie Diaz, will you go out with me?” Eddie could still see a bit of nervousness behind Buck’s words.

“Yes.”

Tags: @shortsighted-owl @mikereads @ci5mates @alyxmastershipper @belovedbuddie (for some reason it doesn’t show up when I write it) @spaceprincessem

#Buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #christopher diaz #9-1-1 #911 fox #writing #ao3 #mumucow #mumucow_xD #soft prompt challenge

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