#anon sucks a lot more than she comes across in this honestly
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Navigating
Anon Harlock, newly minted von Valancius, was assuredly running out of patience. She needed a Navigator and since the keeper had, admittedly unsurprisingly, revealed himself to be a traitorous idiot and the old man had decided to spontaneously die, that left her with the brat. Who just wouldn't stop crying.
-
Read here or on Ao3 (1214 words)
Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)
-
Anon Harlock, newly minted von Valancius, was assuredly running out of patience. She needed a Navigator and since the keeper had, admittedly unsurprisingly, revealed himself to be a traitorous idiot and the old man had decided to spontaneously die, that left her with the brat. Who just wouldn't stop crying.
After a few minutes of very grating waiting, the girl had just lost her home and despite some rumours she was not entirely without a heart, the Lord Captain had enough. She crossed her arms and glared down at the younger woman.
"Enough tears, you're coming with me now."
Despite her impatience and rough tone she truly hadn't meant it as a threat, it was a simple fact that they couldn't stay. Unfortunately it seemed that even the blood and guts splattered all over the walls and floor were not enough to spur the inexperienced heir of house Orsellio into wanting to leave her defiled home. The lighting flickered ominously as the mutant girl's head snapped up to stare at the stranger who had seemingly uprooted her life. Without meaning to, Anon's hand twitched to her rifle's handle. Wide, tear stained eyes staring up at her were hardly a new experience for the hardened pirate, but they were significantly more unsettling when they were a shimmering blood red without a pupil and coming from beneath a third eye that could rip her to shreds simply by opening.
"And if I refuse? What... What are you going to do to me?" Coming from another, Anon might have taken it for an invitation to start flirting, but despite robbing quite a few ships and occasionally planets in her time, she was not in the habit of robbing cradles. There were better ways to tie important children to her person. Particularly when they had been isolated from any and all reality like the young woman before her had clearly been. The three Fs had yet to fail her. Firm, frank, and funny.
"I shall give you the honour of a prolonged session of admiring my wonderful visage to this sour backdrop. We'll both be stuck here considering my lack of a Navigator and your lack of a..." She threw a pointed look around the gore decorated room, before raising her eyebrow at the young woman before her. "Well, anything."
The navigator girl hesitated, staring up at her in confusion. Well, at least she stopped crying. Small victories. Unfortunately the victory remained small and the only person who could get the Lord Captain's fancy new ship out of the dump of a system remained on her knees, fingers buried in viscera. Hopefully she'd wash her hands before touching the stirring stick. Did Navigators use those? Maybe she should have checked in more with the old geezer in her old crew...
Ah but of course all that still necessitated that the little princess got on her feet and came along. Preferably willingly, handing a desperate captive the controls to the entire ship during the extremely sensitive moments of warp jumps did not for a safe travelling experience make. Anon von Valancius, Rogue Trader of the Koronus Expanse and Lord Captain of the Reginatrix Universi sighed with annoyance, her dark blonde hair falling over her left eyes as she briefly lowered her head.
"Oh alright fine. Abelard, where's my booklet?" The ever diligent senechal stepped up beside her, making sure not to step on any corpse bits in process.
"I have it here, Lord Captain."
As he handed over a small but impressively thick little booklet, he glanced at the young Lady Cassia, kneeling on the ground and splattered with her guardians' blood, with a sympathetic frown. Huh, a thing to note. She already knew that Abelard Werserian, despite his claims to the contrary, was not first and foremost a navy officer, but a family man. A sentiment that was seemingly not limited to merely his own offspring. With a short blink Anon filed that piece of exploitable information away in her brain for later use. First, the navigator girl had to be convinced. If she wanted to play the spoiled little princess, Anon would just have to play along for a little while. At least marginally.
With fleet fingers she quickly rifled through her booklet. The smell of ink and fresh paper mingled in the air with the stench of rapidly cooling blood.
"Let's see, where is it... Ah yes." With some theatrics the Lord Captain cleared her throat, straightened her and back and audibly knocked the heels of her boots together. "Lady Cassia, I, Anon von Valancius, Rogue Trader of the Imperium of Mankind, offer you my protection and grant you shelter aboard my vessel." The speech ended with a dramatic bow, certainly much too deep for a Rogue Trader towards a crew member, however noble they may be. Still bent down, she looked at the girl in front of her, now at her actual eye level, and raised an eyebrow. "Happy now?"
The emotions rolling over the young woman's face were certainly entertaining, ranging from appreciation over outrage to girlish glee. In the end she settled on plain confusion. "Why... Do you have that?"
Anon straightened again, grinned, smoothed out her leather coat and waved the little booklet around. "This? It's useful to keep track of all the little details of etiquette, ceremony and all that. I am still somewhat new to the job and practicality has taken precedent over decorum for now." She resisted the urge to turn away and give her treasure another loving lookover. The first thing she'd done after Theodora's untimely and extremely convenient demise had been to dig through all documents on her new writing desk. In the process of vetting everything for interesting information she'd found the little booklet abandoned in a corner of the office together with other material Theodora had apparently not found worthy of her attention. It was of smooth, pearl white paper, with the distinct smell of cotton grown in the peculiar soil of Kolarrax Six, a world deep in the Winterscale protectorate, and bound in wonderfully soft, red grox leather. A beauty and a joy to write in. Using a datapad for her notes would have been an unforgivable waste.
"I see... " The young Navigator's eyes unfocused for a moment, as if she was looking somewhere beyond this reality. For a second Anon thought she might start crying again at the sight of the corpses strewn everywhere behind them, but instead something like resolve finally seemed to wash over the bone white, unsettling features. The young woman rose to her feet in a disturbingly fluid manner, as if reality itself had shifted rather than her body. With squared shoulders and lifted chin, hands crossed behind her, she finally gave an answer.
"I, Lady Cassia of house Orsellio, accept your most gracious offer." The following bow was elegant and deep, just as was appropriate for a Navigator to a Rogue Trader. The Lord Captain grinned.
"Good job, girl." She gave the still bowed young woman a light pat on the head and turned around, confidently striding towards the shuttle bay. Her retinue quickly fell in step behind her. Including, after just a moment of hesitation, her first stepping stone to not Theodora's empire, but her very own.
#warhammer 40k rogue trader#fanfiction#writing#anon von valancius#cassia orsellio#rogue trader#Act 1#first meetings#anon sucks a lot more than she comes across in this honestly#but i'm only just getting into writing again#gotta practice#and write about the absolutely horrendous catastrophy that is the relationship between Anon and Marzipan
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)
Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI
PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader
WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k
CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth
SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor
!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring
NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.
tags under cut
smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,
other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment.
Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum.
The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis.
Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club.
Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go.
Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time.
Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup.
No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum.
There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time.
You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.
What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least.
You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city.
Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here.
If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home.
And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days.
Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear.
You’re going to the booming “after life”.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well.
“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains.
It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink.
God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place.
Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.
His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”
Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think.
You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you.
Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.
And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual.
A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.
Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.
In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering.
“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”
“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast.
The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile.
You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think.
“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”
You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night?
Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices.
“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway.
Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you.
“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.
You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it?
Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely.
You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through.
God, it’s more beautiful inside.
You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head.
You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.
It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time.
The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of.
And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest.
Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.
The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows.
Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission.
Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work.
That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.
The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club.
A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her.
Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be.
This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food.
You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home.
And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.
When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that.
Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory.
The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.
Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.
And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go.
Somehow.
Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass.
Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest.
Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step.
And suddenly, your body freezes.
There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of.
Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.
Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach.
That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?”
And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound.
Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up.
You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.
And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there.
You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take.
Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun.
It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring.
Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine.
Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache.
And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep.
That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you.
You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though.
That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person.
He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers.
Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself.
You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend.
And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.
So bright.
So full of life.
The exact person you’d want to be around.
“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile.
He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan.
“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.”
You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work.
“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.
“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.”
You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him.
“So, it’s Friday.”
He bounces on his feet.
“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”
“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.”
You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head.
“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?”
You nod casually with a shrug.
“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.”
He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun.
“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.”
You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance.
“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.”
You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong.
The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless.
You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls.
He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something.
It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up.
“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club.
He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes.
“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist.
“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.”
And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye.
He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling.
“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”
“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.
You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.
Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile.
“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness.
“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”
Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.
“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.
He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.
“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”
“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face.
“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes.
“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?”
He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.
Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you.
“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.”
“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”
You nod shyly.
“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”
He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground.
“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.”
“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying.
And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.
“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.
And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone.
As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?”
Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar.
For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.
“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink.
“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar.
Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.
You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man.
Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat.
You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.
God. The shirt is sticking to him.
“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?”
You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head.
“Red death, please. Two of them.”
The man nods with a knowing smile.
“I saw that you came here with someone.”
He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him.
“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence.
“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”
“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.”
“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge.
“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else.
Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other.
Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment.
“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”
Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again.
“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”
You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts.
“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie.
And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it.
“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”
And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger.
“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”
Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long.
The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you.
Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry.
“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”
Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost.
“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!”
And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you.
You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach.
It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people.
“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.”
You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now.
“Okay, lets get you to-”
You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd.
Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom.
And it’s still suffocating in here.
And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.
“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.
The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now.
You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing.
And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you.
“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?”
And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you.
“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.
You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing.
“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly.
“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”
“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again.
Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face.
“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”
You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out.
“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.”
Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.
“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.”
You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh.
“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”
He pauses, eyes widening.
“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.
And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them.
You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful.
Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone.
You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.
You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.
There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you.
“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it.
Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”
“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.
The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you.
“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll.
And, well, you do get home safe.
You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.
There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Have you no shame?
Fuck no.
What about Jungwon? Nah.
Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.
“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again.
“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.
And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist.
You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course.
And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers.
“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose.
“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out.
Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you.
And, well. The night is a blur.
Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again.
Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it.
You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again.
It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.
And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity.
You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point.
Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness.
And you search.
And search.
Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point.
Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you.
“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”
“In the flesh.” The man waves you off.
And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it.
“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point.
Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club.
It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.
Probably just a pimp.
Or human trafficking.
He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own.
Still, you nod to the bouncer.
“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?”
You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face.
“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”
“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste.
And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy.
More dizzy than you already were, anyway.
“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows.
“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.
“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours.
The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow.
“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting.
Again.
A third meeting.
“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?”
You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him.
As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears.
As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.
“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder.
“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?”
Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.
“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”
You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times.
“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine.
Pretending you’re not interested.
Wondering why it is that you are, actually.
“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?”
Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention.
You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply.
“I believe you.”
Why do you feel proud of that?
“Come back with me, yes?”
There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender.
What was his name again?
J…J-
Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no.
Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away.
This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.
You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers.
You should find Jungwon and cling to him.
You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run.
“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.”
And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon.
And oh, wouldn’t you know.
You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present.
A weirdo. A freak.
But…aren’t you too?
You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.
You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–
“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club.
Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.
There, straight back to that damned cathedral.
You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color.
The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors.
Blue, red, green–
“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”
Holy shit.
You thought it was a dream.
You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow.
And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think.
Was it not a dream?
The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh.
This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room.
You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them.
The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…
Red.
Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse?
Your shoes?
Where the fuck are your things?
You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.
Are you losing your goddamn mind?
Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like last time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?
He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you.
He’s definitely looking for you.
Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back.
“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?”
You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation.
“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”
You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before.
“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room.
The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you.
“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more.
“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?”
“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.”
You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall.
“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.”
And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all.
“Come now, dear.”
Reluctantly, you follow her.
All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be.
She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence.
Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat.
There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is.
“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought I had you too.”
You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.
“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.”
“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.
“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.”
You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability.
Again, red.
“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands.
You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale.
There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.
“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?”
A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak.
“You got on your knees and you prayed.”
You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed.
“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?”
Exhale.
“Me.”
Inhale.
Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch.
Well, goddamn.
There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up.
He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.
“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.
He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.
“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.
Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you.
“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.”
Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even.
Words can’t explain how you feel right now.
“Why didn’t you leave?”
You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place.
All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain.
“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”
You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him.
God, he’s so charming.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.
You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep.
Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here.
“Where were you?” He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door.
Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies.
“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”
“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.”
You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys.
“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it.
What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?
“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”
You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.
A vampire? Really? Surely not.
“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?”
Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend.
“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”
You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red.
Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it.
“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.”
“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him.
“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.”
He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.
And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.
“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side.
You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk.
A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something.
That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales?
It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world.
“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile.
“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”
You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.
“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.
To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim.
The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.
“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”
All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay.
The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more.
Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door.
“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him.
He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel.
Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to.
It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway.
Month after month after month. For years and years.
It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days.
Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies.
“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.”
“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns.
“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”
“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.”
He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.
Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone.
“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”
“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.”
And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen.
Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift.
“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever.
“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake.
A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him.
An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you.
And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here.
Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room.
Familiar. Warm. Spicy.
Cinnamon.
A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door.
“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.
“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him.
“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here?
“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”
And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows.
You feel comfortable, safe.
The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives.
You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway.
And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral
silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways.
No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget.
“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close.
You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.
“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them.
“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back.
From something.
“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”
“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall.
“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.”
He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door.
You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running.
“Do you want to go home?”
You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes.
“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?”
And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist.
“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens.
“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest.
“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now.
After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.
“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach.
“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.
Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you.
“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made.
“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”
Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right?
“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.”
Oh.
And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands.
“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.”
Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you.
Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again.
Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.
And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours.
You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.
Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you.
“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.”
You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly.
“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”
You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.
Just a small bite. Just a taste.
“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.
He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it.
His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.
And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth.
“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep.
Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away.
His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins.
“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.”
You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever.
“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth.
“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.”
And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits.
“Now, listen.”
It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be.
“Do you hear it?”
You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth.
There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste.
“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”
Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.
“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon.
And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying.
Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.
He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect.
In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.
You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.
So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least.
And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you.
Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?
And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips.
Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears.
And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true.
No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there.
And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.
Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath.
He’s not breathing.
And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you.
Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.
He smiles at you.
At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that.
You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now.
Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do.
So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own.
A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you.
Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too.
And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him.
He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked.
Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.
It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way.
Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood.
After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.
There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters.
Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?
Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.
It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.
You.
You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him.
“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–”
Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.
Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-
Gods be damned, he could kill you.
He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.
Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it.
Needing you to stay alive.
Insane.
He’s fucking losing it.
He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble.
He’d take a walk at noon.
You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either.
If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst.
If just to live in insanity.
“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”
“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now.
Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs.
“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin.
“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.”
“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?”
Of course you fucking feel it.
The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold.
“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts.
“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants.
He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.
Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world.
His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt.
You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.
Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are.
They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.
“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”
You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold.
No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.
Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see.
He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.
“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again.
“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?”
You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat.
How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic?
God, but it feels so, so fucking good.
“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”
Ah.
So he is.
Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…
Entirely dead.
“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end.
“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”
Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him?
If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him.
Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.
He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–
The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it.
He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point.
It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up.
You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.
And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.
It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him.
And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release.
You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed.
You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality?
You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories.
The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.
And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying.
You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.
His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there.
Here it is.
You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–
A kiss.
He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you.
It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it?
“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice.
It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin.
“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long.
Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening.
You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this.
“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”
“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.”
“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?”
You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead.
“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.”
You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you.
Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself.
“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.”
“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.”
Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing.
“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.
You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek.
“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”
You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover.
You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive.
A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing.
You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy?
And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.
Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.
“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”
You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.
“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?”
Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive.
He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you.
He’s never lied.
You just refused to listen.
He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you.
“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all.
So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to.
“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself.
“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.”
Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?
“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.”
You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again.
But he didn’t.
He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you?
What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?
He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.
After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him.
Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?
And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.
Still, somehow, this feels holy.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
PART TWO Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you think you could write a fic where we’re sick and our work place makes us show up to work, knowing fully well we are sick because we tried to call in but they denied us. Anyways Nat ends up wondering where we are because she came back from a mission and sees that their are utensils and tupperware around and medication bottles and just in general clues that we weren’t feeling well, so she goes to find us because she wants to see us and make sure we’re fine. Only to walk in on one of our managers yelling at us (in a public area) because we were slacking off at “our job” (a task that they told us to do for them but it’s not in our job description) when we were simply putting our head in our hands for a few minutes because we didn’t feel well. Anyways Nat swoops in, saves the day, and the manager miraculously gets fired, and we somehow have a better job.
If you write this thank you :) and if you don’t it’s fine
Too Good To Me
〚 Notes - Hey anon! God, let's not talk about how long this was sitting in my inbox. I wrote this while rewatching supergirl so I may start getting some of my old Alex requests done soon! :D 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - Your boss wont let you take a sick day from work. Natasha isn't going to be happy when she finds out. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 1620 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝
“Sorry Y/N, there’s nothing we can do. You’re just going have to suck it up and get yourself into work I’m afraid. We can’t afford any missing staff.”
“But I-“ Your hoarse objection was rudely cut off by the call clicking off. You stared at your phone in disbelief, a sinking feeling of dread settling in your stomach. The fever was making you lightheaded, and every muscle in your body ached, but you had no choice. You had to go to work today.
It was ridiculous honestly. Your boss knew you were sick, in fact the whole office was slowly coming down with whatever virus had been circulating. But it was coming to the end on the month meaning deadlines were approaching and it seemed meeting targets was more of a priority than employee wellbeing.
Dragging yourself out of bed felt like an insurmountable task, but you managed to get dressed and somehow make your way to the office - the only thing keeping you upright was several more doses of DayQuil then the recommended standard. Even though it was short the walk from the parking lot to the front door left you breathless, and by the time you sat down at your desk, a cold sweat had broken out across your forehead.
“Damn, you look awful.” One of your colleagues looked up over their desk at the sound of a series of sneezes you couldn’t quite hold back. They gave you a sympathetic glance and pulled out a packet of tissues and chucked them over.
“Thanks,” You mumbled, catching the tissues clumsily. You wiped your nose and tried to focus on your computer screen, but the words blurred together, and your head throbbed with each keystroke.
Meanwhile, Natasha had been having a fairly good day. Her mission had ended significantly earlier than she’d been expecting meaning she’d get to see you sooner. Of course, the two of you always kept in close contact whenever possible when she had to go on missions, but facetime was nowhere near as good as seeing you in person.
Nat couldn't wait to surprise you. She had picked up some of your favourite takeout and decided to swing by the apartment. However, as soon as she stepped inside, her smile faded.
The place was a mess. Not just a few stray cups or plates strewn about. The sink was piled up with unwashed pots. In the living room, the curtains were still pulled closed clouding the room in a dull haze. Meanwhile tissues and cough drop wrappers littered the coffee table amongst several half-empty medicine bottles.
Nat felt her heart melt a little at the thought of you being sick and alone. Keeping her movements a little quieter now, she crept towards your shared room, pulling open the door carefully. Natasha had expected to see you curled up beneath the blankets, but she frowned and flicked on the light in surprise when all she saw was an empty, unmade bed.
What the- wait, if you weren’t here then where were you?
Hunched over, coughing miserably at your desk. That was where. Around midday, your manager approached you with a stack of papers, slamming them in front of you. “I need you to handle these reports. They need to be done by the end of the day,” He ordered, barely sparing a glance to look at you.
“Sir, I’m really not feeling well,” You began, but he cut you off with a dismissive wave.
“Not my problem. Just get it done.” He walked off, not willing to waste another moment on you.
You stared blankly at the stack of papers, the text blurring in and out of focus. As time dragged on, you couldn’t stop yourself drifting in and out of a feverish haze, your productivity taking a swan dive.
Every so often, you caught your colleagues shooting you concerned glances, but no one dared to speak up. Everyone was aware of the hostile nature of your manager, and no one dared to speak up incase that temper of his was thrown their way.
Once an hour had passed, you could hardly keep your eyes open. You rested your head in your hands for just a moment, hoping to stave off the waves of dizziness. It was then that your manager reappeared, his face twisted with anger.
“What do you think you’re doing? Slacking off again?” he barked, drawing the attention of the entire office. Heads turned, and conversations halted as everyone watched the scene unfold.
“I-I’m just not feeling well,” you stammered, lifting your head to meet his furious gaze. Your vision swam, and you had to blink several times to focus.
“Excuses! Always excuses with you! If you can’t handle the workload, maybe you should find another job!”
“Excuse me, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Natasha’s stern voice cut through the room like a knife. Everyone turned to see her standing in the centre of the room, her posture radiating quiet fury.
“Scolding an incompetent employee,” Your manager blinked, momentarily taken aback. “And just who do you think you are?”
“Natasha Romanoff.” She kept a quick pace as she walked towards him, her eyes narrowing, “The Black Widow, Superhero, Avenger and Wife.”
Your manager's face drained of colour as Natasha's words sank in. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. The entire office watched in stunned silence as she closed the distance between them.
Nat’s voice remained cold and steady. "If you have a problem with my spouse, you'll answer to me." She turned her attention to you when you ducked into your elbow was a stifled sneeze.
“Bless you sweetheart,” She murmured softly, swiping a tissue from a box on a nearby desk and handing it to you, “Come on, get your things, we’re going home.”
You stood shakily, relieved and grateful, but still a bit dazed at how Nat could even be here. The redhead wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you as you stumbled. "Lean on me baby," She murmured gently.
Nobody else said a word as the two of you made your way out the building. Once outside the fresh air hit your face, and you took a deep breath, feeling slightly more grounded. Natasha led you to her car, helping you into the passenger seat before getting in herself.
"Thank you," You murmured, leaning back against the headrest before curling into your side with a harsh cough.
"Don't mention it sweetheart,” She replied as starting the engine, but you didn’t miss the way her brow crinkled as at the sound of you, “I'm sorry your boss is such a dick. How are you feeling?”
"Terrible," You mumbled, closing your eyes as you let your head rest against the cool glass window, “I’ve had a fever all day…. But you- you’re meant to be on a mission-“ Your voice was hoarse and cracked as you spoke.
“I’m not surprised,” Nat raised a hand to your forehead before gently cupping your cheek, “And I finished my mission early, I swung by the apartment and well, you can guess the rest.” She kept one hand on the wheel and the other lightly resting on your knee as she drove.
The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, Nat didn’t want to force you to talk, and it was obvious from the way your head kept periodically bobbing forward that you were exhausted.���
By the time she’d pulled up to the parking lot, you had dozed off against the window, small stuffy snores letting her know you were out for the count. Of course, it would’ve been easier to wake you, but she just didn’t have the heart. Instead, Nat carefully made her way to the passenger door, unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you safely up into her arms.
Trying her best to jostle you, Natasha carried you up towards the apartment, opening the door with ease and stepping inside. “Mm?” You gave a groggy mumble as you slowly blinked awake.
“Shh, we’re home sweetheart.” Nat soothed you quietly, keeping her arm around your waist as she lowered you to be standing up by yourself.
Your eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room, and you made an audibly confused noise as you took in the surroundings. The place was spotless. The pots from earlier washed and stacked away. The stacks of tissues and wrappers had been thrown in the trash, the whole apartment looked fresh and clean - nothing compared to the absolute mess it had been several hours ago.
“You cleaned? You didn’t have to-“ You began but
Natasha cut you off with a gentle smile, her fingers brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “I wanted to,” she said softly. “You’ve been working hard and dealing with that jerk of a boss while feeling awful. You deserve to come home to a clean space.”
You leaned into her touch, feeling a wave of gratitude and relief. "Thank you," You murmured again, your voice still raspy as you sniffled quietly.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Nat led you to the bedroom, her arm still securely around your waist. She helped you sit down on the edge of the bed, then knelt to untie your shoes, “Now you best believe I’ll have your manager fired for how he behaved earlier.”
“You’re too good to me,” You murmured, watching her with tired eyes as you tried to hold back a yawn.
“You’re my world Y/N,” she replied simply, slipping off your shoes and guiding you to lie down. She pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in with care. “Now get some rest, you need it.”
〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @widows201 @llovergirleraa @danveration @idkeithershawty @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart@loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @ahintofchaos @scarlettssub @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister @rianlovelygirl @taliiiaasteria @swaqcenix @inluvwithfandom
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic#sickfic#fluff#whump#comfort#marvel#mcu#natasha romanoff sickfic#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff comfort
334 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I hope you’re having a great day! I had an idea for a fic and I thought I’d send it to you!
Theodore Nott or Mattheo Riddle x fem! Reader
The readers on her phone relaxing after spending all Saturday on homework, and she opens tiktok and watches edits edits of her boyfriend and watches some for like hours and then he walks in- (stay with me bestie-) and she dosent notice, and she’s gotten really horny, needy and turned on *cough* maybe she goes on character ai to try to make her miss him less and she’s just super horny- he sees her watching edits of him and it’s just super smutty?
A/n: Also this is my first time requesting! I sent this to a couple of my favorite fanfic authors bc I didn’t know who would respond, I love your work pls keep it up!!
Hey anon! I did my best, i hope you enjoy it. I went for Theoxreader. NOT PROOFREAD DONT COME AT ME. Also, even thought this is a fem!reader, i have no problems writing male or non binary readers (or any others), so don’t let that stop you if you’re worried! Anyway, this has smut, so if you’re not comfortable with that, just don’t read it.
You’d been sat on your bed all day, textbooks, worksheets, pens and highlighters spread over the white sheets, and wanted to relax. You picked up the remote and put on a random film, the first you could find and decided to go on tiktok. After scrolling and watching many tiktoks, from pics to those packing lunch videos, you came across an edit of your boyfriend Theo. It didn’t surprise you really, he’s from a pure blood family and so is famous, and he’s incredibly good looking, even if he doesn’t believe it when you tell him. The poor baby is insecure and extremely self confident at the same time, you honestly don’t understand how. But, after watching one, you decided to look to see if you could find anymore. You searched and found lots. To all sounds. All different styles. Different outfits. Some were even in his school uniform in school. That last one concerned you. But you were lucky, how many women can watch edits of there boyfriend?
Continuing to scroll, you felt the need for something, anything build up, and could feel your pants starting to get wet. The heat between your legs was getting worse and worse when you felt hands reach for your hips as your boyfriend pulled you flush against him.
“When did you get in?” you asked him, but he only responded by looking at you with those eyes, those eyes that told you how much he needed you.
“What are you watching baby?” he asked as he smirked. You knew from the position you both were in he would be able to see the edits of him on your phone, there was no point in trying to hide it. His rough hands danced gently along your curved, and you felt his lips press wet kisses along your neck and jaw, before settling on your collarbone and sucking. His teeth nipped at your skin and you let out a soft moan.
“Do you want something baby?” he asked. You scowled in response.
“fuck off Theo” you were tired of his teasing already, which was surprising based on how much he does it.
“So vulgar tonight Y/n, i’ll let it slide because you’ve been doing homework all day though.” His lips tickled your neck as he spoke.
You turned around to face him, and rub your fingers through his hair, and tugged gently.
“Careful,” he whispered as he looked deep into your eyes. The look he gave you made your heart skip a beat.
“What have you been doing all day honey?”
“I went to Hogsmede with Astoria.” You hummed in response.
Astoria was nice, but falsely so. You knew she wanted Theo, even though her family had promised her to Draco. You felt for her, it wasn’t the best situation, but Theo is yours, as you are his, and she doesn’t seem to get that. They’ve been many places together, as friends do, but you could tell the lingering touches she left on Theo were more than friendly. It’s not like Theo is oblivious, but he hates conflict in the group. The group is his family, as his mother passed and his father… well. In any case, he’d never want to contribute to a bad atmosphere for the group, at least that’s what he told you, so he just waits for this crush to fizzle out.
“Y/n?” You must have gotten lost in your thoughts as his voice pulled you out.
“Yes?”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” this time he hummed. You went to stand up but he grabbed on to your hand and told you to stay for a bit, but you shoved him off to get changed into something more comfortable, and then came back to clear away the stuff laid on your bed. You were met with a very pouty Theo, and as you were putting away the shit on your bed, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you on him.
“What’s the matter with you?” you snapped at him.
“I haven’t seen you all day, and you left me by my myself the bed i want to fuck you on”
“You went out with Astoria, im sure she’d be happy to fix that issue for you”
“Drop that attitude before i fuck it out of you.”
Your cheeks blushed as he said it, and you moved the rest of the sheets off the bed. He looked at you with eyes filled with lust as you did so, before he moved over to the door and picked up a bag.
“I got you a present from Hogsmede”
“Oh Theo, you didn’t have to,” he has a habit of buying you something from wherever he goes, and you weren’t complaining as you love being spoiled, but you felt as though he might think you’re only with him for his money.
“I know, Open it,” he said, thrusting it into your hands.
You opened the bag and pulled out a beautiful green box, and opened it to find a set of beautiful green earrings.
“They’re to match with your dress for the yule ball, if you want.” You answered by kissing him gently. He picked you up and placed you on the bed, and left open mouthed kisses along all the skin exposed to him. You reached forward and took off his shirt, and ran your hands down to his happy trail. He threw you a smirk as he stripped you down to your underwear.
“Fuck” he breathed as he took you in.
“Take a picture it might last longer”
“What did i say about that attitude Y/n?”
“I don’t know what did you say?” He turned you around so you were on all fours and gripped your hips in answer.
“Be a good girl for me”
Pleasure rippled through you at his words as you wondered how much power he had over you. You felt his hands run down to your pants and over your covered folds as he left kisses on your back. You grinded back on his dick and felt it hard against your ass, before reaching back and running your hands through his hair. You then moved it down his bare chest to his trousers, palming his dick as he let out a whimper in your ear.
He grabbed your hips as turned you around to face him, before removing his trousers and boxers. He stared at you as his erection hit his stomach, and unclasped your bra. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them, then his head dipped down and his tongue swirled around your nipple.
His fingers dipped down to press against your clit, before entering your hole, dipping in, then being brought up to his mouth. You moaned as you watched him suck your juices off his fingers. You went to kiss him, but his head dipped down again.
He left a trail of kisses along your body, before he stopped at your thighs. He opened your legs fully.
“All wet for me baby?”
“I was thinking of Mattheo actually,” you say jokingly, but shut up when he punches your clit and looks at you scoldingly.
“Sorry,” you say, smiling up at him innocently. His head dips down to your left thigh, biting harshly while toying with your clit. The mixture of pain and pleasure makes you gasp, and almost brings you to your climax, when Theo pushes away, and moves to the other thigh, this time leaving a hickey. His wet tongue pushes inside you then comes to wrap around your clit, leaving you writing as he fingers you. His lips release your clit with a small popping noise, before he flicks it around your clit, but never on it. Never in the one place you want it.
He does this for what seems like an age, leaving you a moaning, whimpering mess.
“Please, please Theo” you whine for what must have been the hundredth time, but now, he finally listens. His eyes meet yours, and he sees the tears of pleasure streaming down your face.
“Please what Y/n?”
“Theo I need you, please stop teasing, I-I need you” You say in a quiet voice, barely able to form the words.
“Do you really want it?”
“Theo,” you complain.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes Theo yes please” you beg.
“Do you think you deserve it?,” he teases, “do you think you’ve been good enough for my dick?”
“yesss, I-I have.”
He reaches onto your bedside table where you keep a box of condoms, and unwraps it. He hands you the condom.
“Would you like to do the honours?”
You grab it and roll it on him. He gives no warning as he thrusts inside you, stilling, waiting for you to get adjusted, before slowly dragging out.
He buries his head into your neck, as he thrusts back in, over and over while he toys with your clit until you see stars, as you claw his back, covering it in red marks. He grabs a leg and throws it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to reach the right place inside you, hitting it with every thrust before you come undone, clenching around his cock, he continues pounding into you while you offer sweet musings in his ear and sweet caresses down his body. His whimpers, your moans and the sweet smell of sex fill the room until his groans tell you he’s cumming, and he slowly pulls out.
He rolls off the condom, chucks it in the bin, and pulls you close to him. You cuddle into each other, savouring the presence of the other, before he says,
“I love you Y/n”
“I love you Theodore.”
He smiles as he meets your eyes before smirking.
“Round two in the shower?”
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
EVAY QA BULK POST 2
Here's a new assembly of asks, assorted by topics so you can browse only what interests you:
PERSONAL ASKS
Anon Asked: Have you ever watched The Nightmare Before Christmas? I was wondering if you watch it during Halloween or Christmas or do you consider it as both for the two seasons?
A: I LOVE THAT MOVIE!!! I consider it appropriate to watch for the last quarter of the whole year haha.
Anon Asked: Do you sometimes envision you and your husband as Sonic and Amy?
A: I do not, we really aren't anything like them. Ryan is very quiet and humble and shy. And yes I am forward and romantic like Amy, but unlike her, I'm an annoying little gremlin LOL!
Anon Asked: Have you ever watch 'Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles'? You MIGHT like it amd I highly recommend you watching it ( but don't force yourself if you don't want to)
A: I've never actually watched it properly, but I've watched compilations of it and I really enjoyed what I saw! I love the art style of it and I like how all the turtles are unique. Plus Ben Schwartz, c'mon!
Anon Asked: Hi e-vay, have you ever played life is strange?
A: Hi! YES! I loved that game. Nana always said that she was Chloe and I was Max haha. I didn't play the sequel though.
Anon Asked: Here’s some positivity to counter that negative ask you got! What’s your favourite thing about your new style? *grabby hands* Gimme all the details!
A: I appreciate that. Honestly, I didn't purposely "change" the way I draw; art just evolves over time ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Besides, I still think my style is MY style. I feel like the characters are more on-model and expressive and don't look as flat as I used to draw. If people don't like my art anymore that's fine. I like it, so really that's all that matters.
Anon Asked: EVAY I AM DISTRAUGHT, I've been perusing your blog looking at fanfics but I keep coming across some posts that I can't access anymore like ones by kbspeeding :( Do you know of any way to read them?
A: I know, it breaks my heart, too :( To my knowledge, there's no way to access the posts of anybody who has deactivated their accounts. I wish that wasn't the case because I sincerely miss her work, but I have to respect her and others' decisions to remove their content.
MISC SONIC ASKS
Anon Asked: What do u think of the amy rose ballerina hc? I think it’s so beautifully graceful and fits her so well💗🩰?
A: I'm not sure what specific headcanon you're referencing, but I definitely believe she knows ballet! Especially her idle animations in the Boom games. That girl knows how to dance.
Anon Asked: Do you like sonic unleashed or have you ever played it?
A: I never had the chance to play it, but I love the story and I love what I've seen. I am hoping they'll re-release it for the PS4 (or PS5) so I can finally play it!
Anon Asked: If you don’t mind me asking, what do you think of Barry the Quokka, the protagonist from The murder of sonic the hedgehog? If you don’t know anything about them what do you think of their design?
A: Of course I know the trash bin king! I like his design a lot. He's super cute and I love a nervous wreck of a character. I also loved that he was just this totally normal dude who has to spend an afternoon with the most insane group of friends ever.
Anon Asked: If you had to choose, what is your favorite and your least favorite sonic game?
A: I always have a hard time answering this because there are so many styles of games and I think some are better at certain aspects than others. For example, I think Frontiers had the best writing and actor perfomances. I still think Sonic Adventure 2 has the best gameplay and replay value. And Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is my favorite of the classics because I think it's the most visually perfect and the gameplay is a lot of fun. But if I have to choose, I guess I have to go with SA2 because I never get sick of it. My least favorite is Sonic Spinball haha I suck at it.
@tonyrockstar15 asked: Hey E-Vay, have you thought of making your own Sonic Fan-Cartoon?
A: I kind of already do that with my comics :) I would love to make animations, but unfortunately I just don't have the time to do that kind of thing regularly.
Anon Asked: Do you think sonic does his taxes?
A: He has no income! But if he did make any money, I'm sure Tails would make him do it (and by that I mean, file his taxes for him because he's worried Sonic will do it wrong)
@twistedchaos101 asked: Hey, What is your expectation for the new Sonic Frontiers DLC?
A: Sweet, sweet content! By the time I'm writing this I've already played some of it and I LOVE IT! UGH, Sonic Team has been so good to us in 2023! 😭💙
Anon Asked: Hey E-Vay! Big fan of your art. I was curious to know what’s going to happen with the Hell Hath No Fury comic? Will it be continued or left up to fan interpretation following the Shadow page?
A: Thank you so much! I will finish it. It won't be left up for interpretation. I just have to get to it.
Anon Asked: Is there a possibility that everyone I mean Sonic,Shadow,Amy,Tails, Aurora and so on have some mental illness? I now that Shadow does have PTSD at some point, but does anyone else have some specific mental illness? Btw love your art ✨
A: Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm not a professional so I don't feel right diagnosing anyone with anything, even if they are fictional characters. I personally suffer from anxiety and depression so I can speak to that, but I don't think I am the person to comment on anything else.
MY OCs/AU ASKS
Here are some fun questions I received from @pccyouthleader about Aurora that I wanted to share:
Q: What are Aurora’s primary and secondary love languages?
A: I had to take the Love Language quiz as Aurora. I got her primary as Quality Time. Physical Touch and Acts of Service were nearly tied for second.
Q: Does she like practical jokes? I remember you saying at one point that sometimes she acts without considering the reactions.
A: Yes! She loves a good prank, so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody. Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everybody enjoys a practical joke though.
Q: Is Aurora competitive?
A: She is, because she feels like she’s got a lot to prove. But not to the point where she’s going to hurt a kids feelings just so she can say she won at something. She’s always going to let little ones win.
Q: Do she have a guilty pleasure?
A: She loves reading romance novels and sometimes she writes friend-fictions like Amy does in Sonic Boom or Tina in Bob’s Burgers hahaha
Q: What quality does she most value in Shadow?
A: She loves how he is unapologetically himself, if that makes sense. Despite what he was created for, he is his own man/hedgehog and he’s forged his own path. Even when others try to put him down or break him, he knows who he is and he doesn’t back down and she’s in awe of that.
Q: Pet peeves?
A: Closed-mindedness is the main thing. Whether that’s about something important like accepting somebody for who they are, or something small like not willing to try a type of food for the first time. She doesn’t understand how people can be like that and it irks her. She also hates when people agree to something and then they flake out haha
Q: If she were shopping, what type of store would she choose and what type of item?
A: One of those record stores that has a little bit of everything. You go there for music and movies and books and they always have fun, quirky gifts. Even though the world she lives in is futuristic, she can appreciate classic things and finds them fascinating. Otherwise yeah she’d love a thrift shop because there’s always strange stuff in there. Wherever she shops, she can’t leave any store without getting something silly that she found cute.
Q: What is her most and least favorite chore?
A: Her favorite chore is spring cleaning, where everybody rummages through everything and downsizes stuff. She likes it just because of the things she’ll find that she’s forgotten about or never knew was in the house. Her least favorite chore is laundry. It’s boring and it never ends!
Q: Outside of swimming and singing, what others hobbies does she have?
A: She loves to dance, that’s a big one. I’ve also joked in the past that she’d do really well if Shadow ever brought her to a gun range, so with that in mind she’d find things like laser tag and paintball super fun
Q: I remember you saying she hadn’t traveled a lot, so if Aurora could choose anywhere to visit, what place would she most like to see?
A: She’d love to go to outer space. She’d never been to space before meeting Shadow. But she also gets that it’s a “ridiculous” dream since she hasn’t even explored all of her own planet yet. Honestly she would be happy to travel anywhere, she wants to see the whole world and beyond. She wants to experience the most of life.
Q: What is her favorite fairy tale?
A: Thumbelina. She could see herself in that story a lot: a small lady who is loved but doesn't really fit in anywhere, and gets whisked around by others trying to control what she does with her life. In the end she's rewarded for her kindness and finally finds where she belongs.
-----
@nerdk7 asked: Don’t know if you answered this question, but how did Shadow propose to Aurora? Was it sweet? Chaotic? Or both?
A: I can't reveal that yet! 🥰 I want to keep it a surprise!
@mod-bubamon asked: I have a question about cc...maybe a few im sorry I'm kinda obsessing over how adorable she is tailsxcc for life We know cc can indeed feel,but can she feel pain? Does she know about the ai art and apps? How does she feel about them? I'm sure that in winter mobians fur coats grow thicker. So did cc somehow implement that into her body? Also how much more cuddly would she get when tails fur grows out? Sorry for all the questions out of nowhere, I've been a fan since I've started tumblr a while ago.
A: Please don't ever apologize for questions. I'm happy you're so interested! And especially glad you enjoy CC! When she was in her original "drone-like" form she couldn't feel pain but she could feel fear. When she builds her Mobian body, she engineers it so she does have all kinds of feeling-receptors, including pain. Not that pain is enjoyable to her, but it's important for her to be able to have as much of the Mobian-experience as possible. I wasn't expecting AI Art to pop off the way it has so I never thought to include it in my work. CC is beyond the AI form now though, she's a full on person. Just like Sage became a full person, beyond just her programming. So I think she and Sage have the ability to create their own forms of art from their own minds. I think I've address something similar in the past: CC has the ability to just play music from her body like a speaker, but she preferred to learn how to play an instrument because she wanted to experience the art form properly. CC didn't think to include a winter coat for her Mobian body, but upon snuggling with Tails she'd definitely add that to her list of future modifications! He's the fluffiest of them all in the winter so he'd be so snuggly and warm and lovely. Thank you for following me!
@firerush asked: What does Aurora think of her Werehog form? What does she think of Shadow's or even Sonic's if that's canon?
A: She likes that she's finally tall, but other than that she doesn't like how she looks. She's very self-conscious about her werehog form. But she loves how Shadow and Sonic look as werehogs.
@jhyannarqq768 asked: How would you think if Aurora was the project while shadow was a mortal one? And i just wanted to ask how would you think if there's a another universe that Aurora it's he imortal and shadow it's the mortal?
A: Well, if she was the project she wouldn't be Aurora. She is the creation of Sonic and Amy so without them she wouldn't exist :) As far as her being immortal and Shadow being mortal: If Shadow was engineered in the 50s and he wasn't made immortal then they never would have met. He would have passed away long before she ever came around.
Anon Asked: How good of a fighter is Rory?
A: She is average as far as physical combat. She's better at diversions and dodging, using an opponents' energy against them. If she was playable in a game, I imagine she'd have a lot of QTE actions that allow her to dodge a boss and make them tire themselves out before she uses her light powers to damage them. While she attended the Young Heroes program she learned combat, but Sonic never wants her in harms' way so he instructed her to always try to distance herself from enemies so she can use her long-range light powers. But she won't back down from a fight if it means she can protect someone else.
@jordanjoebanana asked: Can the Shadora kids turn super when they have all the emeralds or is it only just Shadow,Aurora,and Sonic?
A: All the kids can go super except for the third litter (Cinder, Diamond and Boon). Those three aren't able to use chaos emeralds at all. The family does not know why.
@mysticalsuitfury asked: What led you to create a child for sonamy and naming her aurora?
A: I always make fan kids for everything I'm obsessed with. If you knew me from my Naruto days, I had a huge world of Naruto kids. So naturally I wanted to give my favorite couple of all time (Sonic and Amy) a kid! As far as the name, Aurora is my favorite name in the world. Ever since I saw Sleeping Beauty as a child, I've loved that name. So I gave my favorite name to the child of my favorite couple. Also I think it suits her personality: Colorful, cheerful, hopeful.
@twistedchaos101 asked: Aurora speaks how many languages?
A: She only speaks English.
@aurorathehedge6 asked: How old is Ruff and T-Bone since Aurora is now an adult and have kids?
A: Ruff is 8 years younger than Aurora and Tumble is 12 years younger than Aurora. For most of my comics where Aurora is not yet married, she is 20 years old.
@animeartbros asked: Do Aurora Piper and Blitz hang out much?
A: Piper and Blitz are constantly bickering so a girls' day out tends to involve a lot of yelling and picking on each other haha. It involves a lot of Aurora going "Girls, remember, your sister is your best friend for life. You don't know how lucky you are to have siblings! TT_TT Please stop fighting."
Anon Asked: Has shadow ever taught any or all of his kids how to use a gun and if so how did Aurora feel about it? | And another Anon asked: If Shadow tells his children where babies come from, I am sure that he taught them how to 'defend yourself' with a gun at a very young age ... or at least tried haha I see sometimes short comics in which Shadow tries to teach Cream how to use a gun and I can imagine that this mf would totally try to do the same with his children. Would Shadow succeed if he tried this or would Aurora stop him?
A: Gun-wielding is a part of Shadow's identity so I'd never take that aspect away from him. And Aurora actually enjoys shooting too (targets, not people!) so she doesn't feel weird about that topic. However, I believe that they are huge proponents for RESPONSIBLE GUN OWNERSHIP so they keep all their weapons securely locked up and unloaded at ALL TIMES. And Shadow wouldn't teach the kids how to shoot until they're MUCH older and responsible enough to handle such a dangerous weapon. But you'd better believe he trained them well in marksmanship via laser tag and paintball as kids!
Anon Asked: Hi! I noticed that in your Aurora-comics Sonic grows a mustache as he gets older - what made him come to that decision? And what does Amy think about it???? What about kissing Sonic with a 'stache? I, personally, think he kind of resembles Eggman so, I'm not that big of a fan but that doesn't matter! I'm more interested on their POV. I still love the way you draw them, btw. And it's really sweet to see them together through the passage of time 🥰
A: Hi and thank you so much! Honestly, the reason I gave him a mustache was just to make him appear older haha. I tried multiple ways to age him up but the mustache was the most effective. Originally, I wanted to give him something more distinguished but I ran into two problems: 1 - I didn't want people mistaking him for Uncle Chuck. 2 - I don't see Sonic taking the time to properly sculpt a mustache/beard, so I gave him something rough and simple haha. I have drawn him deciding to grow it out and Amy's reaction to it :) Amy loved it, then didn't like it, then went back to loving it because now she gets the most ticklish, delicious kisses! 🥰 The good thing about hair/fur is that it's not permanent! You can always change it :)
Anon Asked: Omg ur feeding us so WELL with the content I honestly can’t picture actual sonic canon anymore without Aurora like she is completely canon in my mind I love her so much!! Also I have a kinda weird question, if Aurora saw a gay or lesbian couple out in public as a little kid and she was curious about it, how would sonic or amy explain it to her?
A: Aw, thank you! Well the Sonic franchise has been feeding ME well this year so I have the energy to nourish you all hahaha. I'm so happy you accept Aurora 🥰 I like to think that Sonic and Amy are very accepting and loving people and would raise their children to believe that too. Also, Aurora is VERY used to seeing public displays of affection from her parents, so if she saw two people kissing or holding hands in public, no matter their gender, she'd be bouncing up and down "OOH ARE THEY IN LOVE?! ARE THEY IN LOVE??" and Sonic and Amy would be like "That's right, Tiny!"
Anon Asked: What have been going on in Aurora's mind when she was a baby?
A: I'm not sure babies think about much 😉 Just general thoughts of "Mom, Dad, Food, Joy, Sleepy" But hey I could be wrong!
Anon Asked: Out of curiosity, I know that you ship Shadow + Aurora together (and I’m okay with that)… But what if the Time-Travel Adventure never happened?… What if Shadow never went on a Big-Space Adventure and stayed with the Others?… What if he was there to watch Aurora grow up, with the Others?… What would their relationship be like, if that happened?… Would Shadow become like Aurora’s Uncle or be like a Teacher/Mentor to her, in the ways of combat?… Or would they somehow still have a romantic relationship, instead of platonic? 😇?
A: Even if Shadow never left, I don't imagine he'd spend much time with Aurora as a child. He and Sonic are not friends, and though I'm sure he'd consider Amy a friend, I don't think they're close enough for him to want to be actively involved in their kid's life. I don't think he'd even be actively involved in Ruff and Tumble's lives if he was on-world the whole time. It'd be more of a "Oh... hey kids... just here to see your mom... goodbye..." He'd likely be more of an idol to Aurora and she wouldn't mean anything to him. That being said, I do believe in soulmates, and again Shadow is immortal so he does not age. So I believe that once she's grown up, that's when he starts to really see her for who she is and that attraction would come later in life, but that would not happen while she was a child obviously.
Anon Asked: What was the scariest movie that Aurora ever saw and how exactly did it end?
A: Aurora does not like scary movies so she avoids them haha. Sometimes she'll agree to watch a classic horror movie with Shadow because he likes that kind of thing but she still finds it terrifying haha. Aurora can sort of handle movies like Wolfman or Dracula but not anything more intense than that. She couldn't sleep for days after "Night of the Living Dead (1968)"
Anon Asked: i appreciate the effort you went thru compiling all those asks. felt like a free readers digest that was nice to read through! …and now here are more questions 😈 1- how does grandpa sonic feel about shadow’s shadoralets? i wonder if he jokingly calls em faker and lil fakers sometimes haha. 2- whats it like having amassed long time followers of your art stuff? (ive been around since the ol 2009 days)?
A: I'm so happy you enjoyed my last set of asks, Anon. I hope you return and see your question here! Grandpa!Sonic is wayyyy more accepting of his son-in-law at this point and doesn't hold (much) ill-will towards him. However he does revel in the fact that Shadow doesn't know a moment of peace now that he's got a million children haha! But he loves his grandkids to death and so does Grandma!Amy. I did an old comic (having a hard time finding it right now) where Sonic has a dream about his future grandkids and when he wakes up he calls them "Tiny Fakers" but he would never actually call his grandkids that. They're his family! I appreciate that compliment and I can't believe you've been following me for so long! I'm honored (and blown away haha!). Honestly though I don't really think about the concept of having "followers" all that much. I just look at it as I'm here having fun drawing silly things and I've been lucky enough to have other people come and enjoy it with me. I'm very thankful for the support, especially to those who have tagged along for as long as I've been online.
-
SHIPPING ASKS
@tatablue2004 asked: Do you like silvaze?
A: I like it enough, but I don't actively seek it out. I'm mostly indifferent to Blaze and to Silver as characters so I'm not that invested. But I do think they're cute.
@chrismantike asked: What’re your thoughts on the shadaria ship? A: 👎
Anon Asked: Sonadow yes or no?
A: Yes! I like them having a bickering, sassy relationship where they still annoy each other but they actually really care about each other.
Anon Asked: How do you feel about Sonic x selly? Would you ever draw them? Maybe for a time travel thing or a space rip or something??
A: I believe you're asking about Sally Acorn. If so, no I do not ship it and I won't draw it. If you're referring to another character, then I'm sorry but I don't know who that is.
Anon Asked: What do u think of amy being sapphic in any shape or form?
A: That's hard to say, since we've only ever seen Amy have eyes for Sonic. I'm not against it, though.
Anon Asked: In your universe, have Sonic and Amy had any suuuper big fight in the marriage? If so, what would it be like for them and how do you think it’d “affect” their relationship??
A: I mostly avoid heavy topics and fights because we get enough of that in other media and I like most of my art to be a safe place people can go to to just get a good boost of feel-good serotonin! So for my main storyline, they get into little arguments and bicker over small things because all couples do, but I try not to ever put them in a giant blow-out fight that will alter their relationship. That being said, the biggest disagreement I ever have them going through is in Aurora's Time Travel adventure (which still hasn't been published yet, sorry!). Sonic adamantly believes Aurora should not risk her life and time travel in that story and Amy disagrees. This will put tension between them for awhile, but ultimately they will be okay.
---
Thank you all for the questions! There are way more but I don't have the mental capacity to answer any more at this time lol
Evay QA Bulk Post 1
Evay QA Bulk Post 3
Evay QA Bulk Post 4
Evay QA Bulk Post 5
Evay QA Bulk Post 6
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
Lmao I looked at the comments under my Reddit anon post. And I just wanted to respond because, lol I wasted two years?? Where?? Check my Reddit history lmfao. The last year I haven’t even been active in the Kate/anthony subs! Plus posting a comment takes all of, what, 10 seconds? I don’t live online like some people.
I said a lot of nice things about Simone that people overlook because I said I thought it was weird she wasn’t booking quickly, good lord. As for liking Siena? J did like her in s1, but I have plenty of comments stating I wouldn’t want her back for 3. I think the actress who played her did a good job 🥴. I’m not a fan of either of them, as in, I don’t follow their careers and only know about what’s posted on fauxmoi or something like that. Do I HAVE to be a super fan of Simone? Some of you guys hate JB but know his entire schedule.
As for Cynthia, what have I said about her? lol I don’t really know anything about her other than she can sing. She also had her own affair scandal, but I know little of it. She DOES have haters because, if I recall correctly, she said something off about American black women years ago. That would be something for you all to research, if you cared, which I’m sure many of you don’t. I, actually, recently spoke about how I hated how interviewers don’t being her UP when speaking about wicked.
And well, as for Ariana, yeah, I don’t like her. She sucks. And anyone who thinks she doesn’t is weird??? She literally just helped break up two marriages tf??
Also I never said JB carried the show on his back. I said I preferred his performance and I thought he was great. And I said Simone did a good job. Again, why do we have to be fans of both? You guys aren’t fans of him and I honestly am ok with that lol. My Reddit history is there for all to see, it’s strange to see people just make shit up. And yes, I am a woman for those stalking me and wondering lol.
I don’t really get why people in this fandom can’t disagree in a normal way. Not everyone will like what other people like.
listen I haven't been on reddit for many months and I don't remember having beef with a particular person because I was disgusted by pretty much the majority of people. I think I only visited BridgertonNetflix and I couldn't believe my eyes that there were so many gaslighters in the fandom who would say that we imagined Kanthony being done dirty or that downplayed what happened regarding Simone. I can't honestly say that I ever came across one of your comments so I really don't know what to think on this matter. I agree with you saying that people have to learn how to disagree politely. I appreciate you coming into my inbox with manners and for being honest about your declining interest in JB, my blog is a place to rant after all and as long as it's done on my terms, everyone is welcome, even JB fans or former JB fans.
on another note I don't want to downplay JB's talent as an actor because as much as I don't like him I can admit he's good at his job, but I think it would be fair to say that he was able to shine more because the script allowed so. What did Simone have by the scripts? Crying in rooms alone and being in a coma for the majority of the last episode? Let's remember she wasn't the sister with the central episode about her even tho it was supposed to be ALSO her story
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Life Support
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cussing, toxic relationship (?)
A/N: hello! happy reading <3
anon requested: Hi! Can I please request Nat always being on missions 24/7 and not spending time w reader and reader understands at first but after being constantly alone she finally confronts Nat when she’s getting ready to leave again so reader says “if you walk out of that door we’re done” then “please don’t walk out of that door” then Nat walks out so then they’re broken up. Sorry if it’s too specific💕
Summary: All good things must come to an end.
Word Count: 2K | navigation
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3
If there was one thing you were certain of, it was this; dating an Avenger wasn’t easy.
You were in a relationship with Natasha Romanoff, and have been for the better part of two years now. At first, everything had been absolutely incredible. The redhead would come to your apartment every night, her body entangled with yours beneath your bedsheets. You would wake up to Natasha sleeping soundly beside you, her arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close. Her warm breath would fan against the side of your neck as you took in her features.
Natasha would slowly stir awake, her eyes moving side-to-side behind her closed eyelids before fluttering open. She would be met with your wide smile shining down at her, your fingers slowly combing through her tresses. The redhead would pull you down by the neck, placing a tender kiss against your lips.
When she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes would travel down to your neck and admire the dark purple marks that were littered across your skin. It was exhilarating to her, knowing that you were hers. Natasha felt a sense of pride and couldn’t resist a smirk from taking over her face.
You would cook breakfast in the kitchen while Natasha sat on the counter, ranting about the events of the day before. Your laughs filling the space as she mimicked Steve and Tony’s voices, mocking their ridiculous arguments. Eventually, the redhead would hop off of the counter and come up behind you, her front pressed against your back as she held you by the waist.
Once the food was cooked, you would sit on Natasha’s lap at the table, your hands linked behind the back of her neck. She would eat and occasionally feed you, holding the spoon up to your mouth and purposely missing your mouth, effectively getting food on your face. Natasha would laugh as an annoyed look would cross your face, a pout gracing your lips.
The Russian would wipe off the food with the pad of her thumb, sucking it off of her digit before kissing your pouty lips. She wouldn’t stop kissing you until your pout was replaced with a smile. You were in euphoria each time Natasha would visit, but all good things must come to an end.
A feeling of sadness would wash over you each time she would walk out the door, unsure of when she’d return. Seeing her leave never got any easier. All you wanted to do was beg her to stay in your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You weren’t the only person that needed Natasha and you understood that.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Despite the feeling of despair that would creep into your chest, you never complained. You were aware of how selfish it would seem if you were to even so much as bring up the topic of Natasha staying for longer than a night. She was a vital part of the Avengers, a team that saved the world from threats on a daily.
You had handled the arbitrariness of Natasha’s profession pretty well and settled for it. Having Natasha in your life occasionally was a lot better than not having her at all. However, there was only so much you could take. And one night, you had finally had enough.
•❅──────────────── ⧗ ────────────────❅•
For the past six months, you had seen Natasha a total of ten times. It seemed as if she had been taking on more missions that varied in their durations. She was gone for weeks at a time and wouldn’t contact you the entire time, unaware of when she was due to return. You would only find out when she was back home when she was already knocking at your front door.
To say you missed Natasha would be the understatement of the century; you missed her like fucking crazy.
You would spend the weeks she was away, sleeping in bed alone as you clutched her pillow close to your chest. You practically lived in the sweaters she left at your apartment, the faint smell of her perfume lingering on the articles of clothing. The day you realized her scent had faded, you almost burst out into tears.
It made you feel disgusted with yourself. You were waiting around like a lost puppy, desperate for Natasha’s return. You couldn’t focus at work either. Your thoughts were focused on Natasha.
Will she come home soon? Is she okay? Is the mission she’s on super dangerous? Is she not replying to your texts because she’s busy or because she isn’t alive to do so? Or what if she had been home and just didn’t care to see you? What if she didn’t love you anymore?
These questions circulated your mind in each time of Natasha’s absence. You knew that you had to confront her, but didn’t know how to go about the situation. What? Are you supposed to go up to her and say ‘Stop saving the world to spend time with me’? Obviously fucking not.
The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous you felt. Natasha was out risking her life for humanity and here you were, moping over not being able to see her. Pathetic.
Regardless of how absurd you thought your concerns were, they didn’t stop you from finally confronting your never-present girlfriend.
•❅──────────────── ⧗ ────────────────❅•
You had been sat on the couch when a knock sounded at the door. You immediately sprang up and rushed toward the door, hoping to see the woman that’s been plaguing your mind. To your surprise, you were met with red locks and green eyes shining with joy.
You had to fight the urge to leap into her arms and shower her face with little kisses. Natasha’s happiness turned to confusion when you wordlessly moved to the side, giving her some room to enter. The sound of her heavy combat boots hitting the hardwood floor resounded throughout your apartment.
You shut the door slowly, leaning your forehead against it with a sigh. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to confront the woman if you laid eyes on her. Natasha had you wrapped around her finger and you couldn’t help but feel like she capitalized on your weakness at times.
“Y/N? What’s wrong, moya lyubov (my love)?” Natasha’s raspy voice met your ears and you let out a shaky breath. “The fact that you don’t know what’s wrong IS what’s wrong.” Your voice came out small and you couldn’t see it, but Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.
You heard her footsteps approaching you and you quickly turned around, coming face-to-face with your girlfriend, “What are you talking about?” Natasha’s hands moved up to cup your cheeks, but you swatted her hands away.
“You’re never here, Natasha. That is what I’m talking about.” You walked past her and paced around the living room. The redhead was glued to her spot, her eyes following your every move. Your shoulders were tensed, your eyes were fixated on the floor as you walked around. Natasha had never seen you so serious before, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she was terrified.
“I’m here whenever I can be. Is that not enough for you?” Your movements came to an abrupt halt and you whipped around to stare at your girlfriend as if she had grown two heads. “No! It may be enough for you, but it isn’t for me! I’m alone for weeks on end without so much as a fucking text from you!” You raised your voice and Natasha felt irritation arise within her.
“I can’t stop in the middle of a shootout or an interrogation to message you! I’m sorry that I’m away all the time and can’t give you details, but it’s my fucking job! You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.” Natasha moved until she stood directly in front of you, chest rising and falling quickly as she took shallow breaths. Her eyes were trained on yours with an intimidating glare, but you weren’t scared of her.
“My job is a priority.” The redhead gritted out through clenched teeth. You felt your own anger expand at her words. “And I’m not?” You questioned Natasha challengingly and she shook her head with a dark chuckle.
“No. You’re not.” You felt your heart shatter completely. Her tone was emotionless and she spoke as if she didn’t care at all; like you were a stranger.
“My job comes before anything, including you. I can’t let the world fall apart just because you’re a needy bitch that can’t spend a fucking minute without me.”
Natasha was relentless and you couldn’t handle it. Tears rapidly fell from your eyes as your chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.
People who said that words couldn’t physically hurt you; were full of shit. Each word that fell from her lips felt like a stab to the heart. And as everyone knew, Natasha Romanoff was very good with knives.
“What? You’re not gonna say anything now? You sure as hell had a lot of shit to talk a minute ago.”
Natasha’s tone was cold and you hated yourself for still trying to find the warmth that you used to soak in, but you couldn’t find it. All you were met with was a blistering wind that sent shivers up your spine.
You remained silent, focusing on containing the harsh sobs that threatened to wrack your body. Natasha rolled her eyes at you and turned around, heading straight for the door. An alarm sounded in your head as you watched her walk away.
“If you walk out of that door, we’re done.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Natasha froze, her hand on the doorknob going still. She stayed there for a minute, contemplating her next move. Of course, you didn’t think the redhead would actually leave, but she was always full of surprises.
Your eyes widened as she twisted the knob, pulling the door open. “Wait! Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” Honestly, you didn’t really know why you were apologizing. If anything, the roles should’ve been reversed in this moment, but you were willing to say or do anything if it meant Natasha would stay.
Natasha ignored your pleas and took one step out of the door before you hastily rushed after her. You gripped her wrist for dear life and her head whipped around, a look of annoyance on her face.
“Let go of me.” Natasha tore her hand out of your hand easily, considering she was much stronger than you were. You remained in the doorway as you watched the redhead strut down the hall until she reached the staircase. As soon as you lost sight of her, you slammed the door and fell to your knees.
You had no intention of destroying your relationship. All you wanted to do was voice your concerns to Natasha. You were expecting endless reassurances as she wrapped her strong arms around your body.
But instead, you were crying on the cold floor of your apartment, her harsh words echoing throughout your mind. Part of you was waiting for her to knock on the door and apologize profusely for leaving, but Natasha was lots of things, and stubborn was one of them.
Once Natasha came to a decision, there wasn’t much that could change her mind. That’s what hurt the most. You were positive that the redhead loved you just as much as you did her. You felt as though nothing could sever the unbreakable connection that brought you two together. The possibility of Natasha willingly leaving you had never crossed your mind. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for this outcome.
Natasha Romanoff was your everything. Her cocky smirk and infectious laughter were the oxygen that filled your lungs each time you took a breath. Her shiny green eyes and red locks were the chemical reactions of your brain that produced dopamine.
Her love coursed through your bloodstream and kept your heart pumping. But now, she was gone. The minute she walked out, the light in your eyes disappeared and your skin slowly turned to dust. Without the woman you loved, you were nothing but a withering corpse going through the decomposition process.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Natasha was your life support and she decided it ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ was time to pull the plug.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
join my taglist!
taglist: @perfectromanoff @aliancvnas @ultimateskyscraper @marvelwomenslut @chaekhan @rvselie @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @prentisshoe @mcubreakdown101 @multiyfandomgirl40 @fear-street-girls @007giu @weelight @scotts-orange-slices @puppy-danvers2016 @acertainredhead @lynxwhispurrs @mindofwesley @lostandsearching @tquick99 @rachel146 @illloveyou @thewidowsghost @wandasgirlfriend @sapphic-stress @olicity-boo @suki-is-a-queen @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @hagridsmomma @ooobviouslyyyy @blurryylines @yeeterthekeeper @maximoff-jp @midnight-lestrange @tomatonugget @mrs-avenger3000 @wandadarlingg @wandanatblogs @nooshe @simpfornatasharomanoff @nylevea @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader angst#natasha romanoff angst#black widow x reader#black widow#request done
499 notes
·
View notes
Note
So I obviously adore your little universe and reread it constantly. Honestly almost love it more than the show.
Can I ask how Izzy and/or Pete would cope with a hurt or sick Lucius? The little glimpses of Izzy calling in Ed when Spanish Jackie arrived and Pete coordinating a midnight move are so lovely.
(oh wow, thank you so much anon! You can certainly have some of the boys coping with Lucius being under the weather. CW: mentions of vomit)
Pete lifted up the edge of the comforter. “Still alive, babe?”
“No,” Lucius groaned. “Leave me here to perish.”
“That bad?”
“I hate throwing up so much.”
“You want me to get you some ginger ale or something? Saltines maybe?”
“Ginger ale sounds okay,” Lucius conceded. “But we don’t have any.”
“I’ll go to the shop.”
“Yeah okay. Get me some really gossipy crappy magazine too? I can’t do a book right now, but I need to read something or I’m gonna die of boredom AND food poisoning.”
Pete leaned down to kiss his sweaty forehead. Whatever had done Lucius in had done a number on him. But if he was well enough to complain, he was going to be fine.
“I’ll be back in ten.”
It was only six, but it was dusky and quiet outside. Pete had been in the twilight haze of taking care of Lucius and working on the dress Shelia Kissimee had commissioned from them. Frenchie was doing the bead-work and John was handling the embroidery, so Pete had taken on the construction and it was a real time suck. Luckily, Lucius had mostly been sleeping between bouts of hurling, so he’d gotten a lot done.
“Hey, Pete,” Olive greeted as he came in. She was loading in the scratch off lotto tickets.
“Hey.” He headed for the fridge, pulling out two ginger ales and after a moment’s thought, a coke. He could let it go flat and give it to Lucius tomorrow, so he wouldn’t get a caffeine withdrawal headache. “Do you have saltines?”
“Sure, next to the cheese-its!” Olive called.
He located a sleeve of them and headed towards the register, picking up the magazine with the biggest loudest font on the cover. There was a little display, leftover from Valentine’s day probably. He considered it, grinned, and plucked up an item.
“Someone sick?” She asked, ringing everything up.
“Luc got downed by a hot dog. We think anyway.”
“Too bad. Tell him my niece loved that book he left for her. And that I hope he feels better.”
“Will do.”
By the time he got home, John and Frenchie were back. They’d taken a drag brunch gig across town and were currently helping each other out of their costumes.
“How’s the patient?” Frenchie asked wryly.
“Dying!” Lucius called from their bedroom. “Thanks for asking!”
“So better?” Frenchie determined.
“Little bit,” Pete agreed. He went into their room and put everything on the nightstand. “Got you something.”
“Trashy magazine?”
“That too.”
The blanket was pulled back. Lucius pulled himself up to sitting. He was barechested and flushed. It was a good look on him, but probably not the right moment to mention it.
“Here.” Pete presented him with the little stuffed bear. It was holding a red heart that said ‘I love you bear-y much’.
Lucius plucked it from him with two fingers like it might be another bad piece of meat.
“Why?” He asked flatly.
“When I felt crappy as a kid, I always wanted to have a stuffed animal with me,” Pete shrugged.
“I’m not a kid,” Lucius said firmly.
“I’m aware, babe,” Pete laughed. “I can take it back if you don’t want it.”
“No,” Lucius clutched it closer. “I like it. Thank you.”
Pete’s phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket.
“Did you maybe forget to tell Izzy you were too sick to come over?”
“Oh shit. I ost track of the days.” Lucius’ eyes slipped closed. “And I don’t even know where my phone is.”
Pete picked up, “Hey, Izzy. Lucius is fine. Well not fine fine, he got food poisoning.”
“What’d he eat?” Izzy snapped, apparently too peeved for pleasantries. Pete started searching the room for Lucius’ phone.
“Hot dog from a new street vendor.” He located it under clothes that had been hastily shed that morning after the first round. Dead. “His phone battery died.”
“Along with his common sense, apparently.”
“You want to talk to him?”
“Yes.”
Pete handed his phone over to Lucius, who gripped it.
“Sorry, goblin,” he sing-songed in the way he did when he was trying to hide that he was actually worried someone wouldn’t accept the apology. “It looked legit, what can I say? Trust me, I’ve already paid for it. Oh. No. I mean Pete’s got me- yeah. Uh huh. No, there’s soda and crackers and I’ve got a stuffed bear, I’m good. No...I..oh.”
Pete glanced over and Lucius was resting his chin on the bear’s head, a faint smile on his face. “I’ll miss you too. Don’t stay up too late. Eat something sweet. You never have enough dessert, it matters. And I can’t have one, so someone should.”
Pete half-assedly tidied up their space, turning over clothes to discover bits of the dress fabric he'd been working with. Maybe he needed a break.
“He wants to talk to you,” Lucius held the phone out after another minute and Pete took it.
“All good?”
“You’ll tell me if I can-” Izzy started then stopped. “Just let me know how he is tomorrow.”
Lucius was already picking up his magazine, yawning as he flipped it open.
“I’ll text,” Pete assured him and then stepped out into the main room. “You know you can come by if you want. No one’s checking ids at the door.”
“No,” Izzy said quickly. He was weird about coming here, Pete couldn’t figure it. He liked Izzy’s place well enough. “That’s fine. You’re taking care of him.”
“When he’s sick he likes hot and sour soup.” Pete took mercy on him. “I just get it from the local place, but if you made it... you know how he is. He’d fucking love that.”
Izzy hesitated then exhaled, “I’ll look up a recipe. And I’ll come by for lunch, maybe.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“Don’t you fucking dare. What is wrong with all of you?”
That debate took up another few minutes. By the time Pete had gotten dinner together for himself and eaten it out of Lucius’ smelling range, just in case, it was full dark out. When he came back into their room, Lucius was curled around a pillow, letting the tv quietly tell him about the life of meerkats.
“You okay for company?”
Lucius just reached for him and Pete got into bed. He stroked Lucius’ hair, which was not in the best shape it had ever been.
“Love you,” Lucius mumbled, eyes half-lidded.
“Love you too,” Pete smiled down at him.
The bear had been set on Lucius’ nightstand, pleasantly crowded in with the books. He stayed there too. He oversaw Izzy’s awkward, but heartfelt visit. He stayed the next day and the next. He stayed until Lucius being sick was a barely remembered blip. He presided over that table for a long time to come.
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, it's the they/them anon again. Please ignore this message if it's more than you want to deal with, I wound up writing a lot.
I wanted to say sorry, I can see how that was out of line for me to ask. I guess I saw you had answered that other ask about your pronouns and assumed you were open to sharing/educating. However I probably should have figured that you didn't really want to elaborate based on you not doing so in that post already. So I apologize, honestly. If I met you irl and you told me your pronouns as you did in the other post I might still have been confused but I would do my best to use the ones you asked for.
To be honest I don't interact with people in the "community" much, online or irl. (I'm kind of a hermit and don't interact with anyone in general much) So I didn't realize there was that kind of a negative/washed-out view of 'gender-neutral'.
My limited understanding of they/them was that it's a good thing to use when you don't know someone's pronouns (either cuz you haven't had the chance to ask yet or cuz it's a mystery person or placeholder idea of a person where gender isn't relevant in the example being given) or for people who don't identify with he or she. I also felt that just like 'he' can mean all different degrees and types of masculinity and 'she' can mean all different degrees and types of feminity for individual persons, 'they' also means completely different things to the different people who use it. And I guess I thought everyone (who has made an attempt to understand non-cis) used/understood it that way. I didn't know it was mostly used as a lazy third gender. :/ I can see why you might lean away from they/them if you assume everyone who uses it is just putting you in yet another box.
(Sorry for not going into it/it's here, I have a lot more learning and meditating to do on that one before I'll be comfortable with it. Though I would do my best to use it if someone asked me to.)
The point I meant to make here is that when I asked why you don't use they/them; I didn't mean to be questioning your identity, though I can definitely see how it came across that way. I just wanted to know what could be wrong with those pronouns to some people, since I have decided to use them for myself, and because if I try to google it all I'm going to find is froofy disconnected descriptions. I was just hoping to learn a little more, and I did. So thank you. I'm now aware of a possible negative connotation to what I thought were pretty harmless and actually neutral pronouns, which kinda sucks, but now I can be more mindful in the future.
hey, i appreciate the apology and i'm glad that my response showed you a perspective you hadn't encountered before -- that's why i chose to respond to the ask in the first place. i do want to clarify a little based on what u've written bc i think maybe some of the details of what i meant to communicate got kind of Lost In The Sauce bc i was responding in a really individual way and then a little extra conversation spun off of that.
i don't think there is a "negative/washed-out" view of gender neutrality or of "gender neutral" as a term. it's a term a lot of people happily use and identify with and gender neutrality/androgyny resonates w a lot of people -- but not me. what i was expressing negative feelings abt was expectations+assumptions of gender neutrality for anyone who doesn't track with a binary gender, and i'm p sure that's also what was meant by other ppl who chimed in saying they related to my aversion. i also didn't mean to imply they/them as a pronoun set isn't "harmless" or neutral, bc they absolutely can be, and i don't think they're "mostly" used to box people in -- it was again a contextual case where harm comes from carelessly applying it to people regardless of what their actual pronouns are or, as you inadvertently did, seeking Explanations when someone doesn't fall in line with expected gender presentation. (again, i see and appreciate that that wasn't your intent, but it's one of those things where sometimes i think we all just get carried away w curiosity abt stuff that just isn't really ours to interrogate).
basically i don't want you to come away from this convo feeling like there's a new Negative side to they/them pronouns or to modes of presentation or identity that fall in line with what's "expected" from nonbinary people (as much as that can exist, in relatively niche spaces, bc overall people mostly actually just Expect us to be cis lmao. this whooooole convo is extremely contextual), bc that wasn't my point and the sticking point isn't really one specific set of pronouns; it's behaviors and assumptions. i want behaviors and assumptions regarding gender to be examined and changed, not to throw out a flat "some people HATE some pronouns!!! you better watch out!!!!!" and have that be the end of it, y'know? and i DEFINITELY don't want you walking away from this convo feeling sucky abt a pronoun set you use yourself in general. the words themselves are 100% not the problem so i hope i've been able to clarify that somewhat
i ended up writing a lot too lol but again rounding off i just wanna say i appreciate the apology and i'm glad we can talk more abt it. you didn't make me feel shitty and i don't want to make you feel shitty. i just think it's cool + important to talk frankly abt stuff like this when i have the energy for it
#also i didnt want to write a whole paragraph abt it bc it seems like u've already caught on to rethinking this part of it but:#decouple gender from pronouns entirely. there's no masculinity in the way i use he/him and no femininity in how i use she/her#and i know it's the same for many other people. pronouns are like clothes or makeup or hair for a lot of ppl; theyre just presentation#+ as i've reiterated many times during these convos but 1 more time for good measure: 100% fine 2 use they if u DO NOT KNOW a psns pronouns
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey there!!! Can you please write a smut on SF9 finding out their partner reading smuts 🥺🌝 (I want to see how dirty they can go🌝) And if you don't want to write for all of them then maybe you can just do it for any member you're comfortable to write on. Literally, ANY MEMBER WOULD WORK. I really want to read something like this haha🤭
Also, I genuinely love your writings! I'm new to Tumblr but I'm literally binge reading your posts. Gosh you're talented as fuck😫💗✨
Lots of love, and thank youuuu💕
OMG YES YES YES YES
TMI: Not gonna lie, I was thinking about this when my mom came into my room to talk to me, and my recent story was literally right there just open and I was panicking. Although she doesn't know anything 💀. She's cute like that, my mom.
You are so sweet anon 🥺🥺. Go on make me cry with your lovely words 😭. I will try my best to write more and sorry this took so long 💞💖 LOVE YOU 💓
S/O reads Smuts 🤭
Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.
Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍
Warnings: 18+ ages and all readers (nothing specified with respect to gender, appearance, etc of reader). Rough sex (YB). Thigh riding (IS). Dick riding (JY). Marking. Biting. Humping. Dining table sex (DW). Low key strength kink? Idk (RW). Biting using teeth (ZH). Exhibitionism. Terrace sex (TY). Slight voyeurism. Oral - reader receiving (HY). Somehow I end up writing the filthiest things for Hwi. Cockwarming to sex (CH). It's really difficult to think of 9 different things for 9 different people😤. Also some may be unprotected sex, don't do it unless you want kids. Lmk if I need to add more!
Word Count: HAH jokes 😂
All members under the cut!
Youngbin
Doesn't understand at first 💀
But he isn't scared to ask so he'll just ask you
The panic on your face makes him panic
Apologizes 🥺
Then you explain that it's no big deal and that it's just a story
But he saw his name 💀💀💀
So he's curious and so he does research aka Googles it
Has a mixed reaction, doesn't know what to think
On one hand, he's flattered...?
Like, oh sweet, you are reading a story about him probably railing you to death
On the other hand, why are you reading it?
Did he not satisfy you enough? Should he do more? He wants to
So he will pick a random one, read it and be like, Okay. This is how it's gonna play tonight
So determined 🥺
Picks you up for your date and stuff
Timeskip to the bedroom by a steamed dumpling Dawon
So touchy and observant
Tries his best to remember what was in the story
Forgets but that's okay tho cause now he knows what you want
More Dom than usual
More vocal than usual
His grip on your skin leaves so many bruises and literal fingerprint shaped marks
Bites your neck a lot
Doesn't hold back one bit
Secretly satisfies his wishes too
Teases you for being so ready
Teases you for every reaction
Pulls your hair
Overstimulates you
Until you're tired and can't take it anymore
He could go for a round more
So he does
It's also like, he's lowkey angry at himself cause you were reading smut which made him think, maybe you thought he was too vanilla
But after you've both cooled down you ask him what happened and why he was so rough, not that you had a problem
Expresses his concerns and you tell him that you read those only cause you wanted to know what the fandom thinks of him and the way they think he likes to have sex
Blushy babyyyy
So cute 🥺
Inseong
Bro
Do I even need to 😂
He's probably written a few 💀
He seems like he's into roleplay 👀
So when he does find a tab open on your phone about literal PORN, in words
He doesn't think much of it tbh
But is curious
He'll tease you like you are both high schoolers
Holds you phone up high so you can't reach it
Satisfied when you whine and pout
Tucks your phone in his back pocket and grabs your face
" I think it's hot "
Peck's your lips and slaps your butt leaving you wide eyed
You need a minute to process what just happened lol
Running after him you pull him down on the couch, sitting on hids lap
Bite you lip and grab his face pls
Now he's wide eyed 😂
Kiss his neck and talk to him sexily
" Do you really like that I read smut? "
You look so innocent he would cum right there
Poor man is dumbfolded
So much that he doesn't even realize you were grinding down on his thigh the whole while
Grabbing your hips he nudges your hips to continue their movement
Loves having you so close
Especially after discovering your secret
Suck him off after and he'll do any and everything for you 😉
Jaeyoon
Oo this one is fun
He won't confront you immediately
He'll just think about it a lot
" How are they so cute when they read such things for fun? "
Stares at you from across the room
Smirks at your cute smiles
Timeskip this time by Baek Huru
Surprises you by kissing your neck
Humps your butt
Pecks you neck
Rolls your nipples in his fingers
Moans in your ear, deeply and hoarsely
Pulls away dragging you to the bed
Sits near the headboard
Beckons you to come closer and naked 👀
Forces your dick in you, slowly tho, don't worry
Doesn't give you a lot of time to react
But, all this seems familiar
Then you realize that he's trying to recreate the imagine you were reading before
The whole idea made you hot
Istg you've never finished so soon
He tells you that you don't need to read those stories when you have the real deal right there
Sanghyuk
Smug bastard
He's happy that you're thinking and reading about him even when he isn't with you
He will actually read the warnings and is mildly surprised lol
Wow you really into all that?
He has no shame so he will ask you directly
You stop doing what you're doing and just slowly turn towards him
He's scared lmao
Then explains himself and says sorry
Tbh, you're more shocked that he isn't angry
Blinking you slowly make him sit on the dining table chair
Pacing you start to think of and explanation now
Is there any explanation for reading smut? Idk 😂
Honestly, he asked you so that you could actually do what the warnings said in real life
Gets up, takes your hand pulling you close and lifts you, making you sit on the dining table
Removes his shirt before kissing you intensely
Tells you that he wants to fuck you on the table like in the smut
Nodding you let him take over
Makes you cum twice easily
It's more romantic than rough
Passionate, very passionate
Kisses you a lot
Hands on you all over you
Pulls you closer and closer by your thighs
Lays you down and fucks you till your back is no where on the table
Sweet reassuring smooches when you're done
Tells you to talk to him about such ideas rather than just reading them
Seokwoo
He is shocked™
Listen okay
He's tall
He's scared that he'll hurt you if he does what he wants without thinking
Reads multiple smuts 💀
Only the ones you've liked so far tho
Fuckin uses your account so yeah obviously
Now he'll be ready to talk to you about it
So shy omg
Stutters words out cause he's so flustered
You need to read his mind, literally
Once, somehow you are finally clear about what he was talking about
You'd just laugh at his cuteness
Boy is confused ??
Pushing him down on the bed you climb on top of him
Yes climb
Needy but still shy and shocked
Wastes no time in getting naked
Allows you to do whatever you want to him
No, really
Let's you take charge that is only until you tease him
Flips you and thrusts into you so hard the bed is shaking and you feel like it might break
Strong grips on your thighs and hips and belly and arms
Definitely sore for a few many days 💀
Juho
I'm not sure tbh
Either he won't care at all like
" Oh yeah this is just their thing "
Or he'd be so into it like hed wonder why you were reading it, was it for ideas?
He already has those so you don't need them from someone else
He won't ask you about it tho
But you will bring up an idea that was in one of them
And he's down
Or up, whichever you want
Asks you what you want more times than usual
But it doesn't make sense cause you're literally going crazy with the way his cock feels inside you and he asks you what you want?
Starts moving before you answer
Asks you again and again till all you can say out loud is " More "
He's fine with that answer
Hands above your head
Teeth scraping your the front of your throat drawing so many sounds from you
He's driving his dick in you so fast that you're moving away from him
Praises you with his deep ass voice
Gives you his Vampire stare™
That's all you need to cum undone
Keeps it a secret, won't ask you unless you bring up your little extracurricular activity 😌
Yoo Taeyang
SHY BABYYYYY
So pink when he realizes what you're reading lol
But he's so mesmerised that he goes on reading it 😂
You catch him looking at your phone, no big deal
But he's looking at it as though he saw a ghost
He's turned on but at the same time he's appalled
Do people see him like that? Do you want him to be that?
He's gonna need a lot of time to process the information
When you reassure him that he doesn't need to change anything at all, he's more calm then
But on a fine ass blue moon, his fine ass is gonna decide that he's gonna try something new
So there you are, on the terrace talking to someone on the phone. After ending the call he'll come and hug you from behind
It's all aww so cute till you feel his dick press into your butt
Forces your head back to rest on hius shoulder slowly but hotly
Unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down in one swift motion and his hands are all over you
Somehow the idea of having sex in the open night sky is so exciting
Stops just before you reach your high so that he can fuck you
You're leaning on the terrace wall
Face pressed slightly on it as your butt sticks out for him
Giving him permission to do anything to you
The orgasm hits you so fast but it's so fulfilling 🤤
And your pants are being pulled up even faster 💀
Maybe you should leave smut laying around
Youngkyun
You've found the saucuest lil smut about your boyfriend
He's sitting at the table, on his laptop composing and writing songs while you are here on the bed, blanket over your legs
Now see, you aren't really one to get off of smut but this particular one was so realistic
The description
The reaction
The dialogues
Reading it made you body move on instinct
Lower lip getting stck in your teeth
Hand travelling down to your privates
Your hips thrusting forward into your hand and fingers
Your breathy moans, that you tried your best to stick to, were louyd enough for him to hear
At first he thought you were doing a breathing practice or something
That is until he recognized the pattern
Lifting his blank phone up, he moved it to look at you through it
Boy is so shocked
It's like his own private porn show
Placing it back on the table gently, he moves the blanket slowly, getting under it
Licking his lips, he tucks his tongue out, licking the area that your fingers just slid over
Gasping at the sudden feeling you drop your phone and move your blanket off
You inevitably moan at the sinful sight below you
Your lovely boyfriend, looking up at you through his lashes, tongue coated with his saliva and your leaking juices
Holding your wrist, he nudges you to continue what you were doing, with his tongue never leaving you
Gripping your thighs, he bites your inner thigh as you work yourself closer to your high
After you cum, he'll lick off all your juices
Then he'll be all sweet asking you what you were reading
Round 2? 😉
Chanhee
He'll find it funny 💀
Why do people write these things
Why do people read these things
What is the use?
He is partly curious lol
When you tell him it stimulates the necessary regions, boy is shook
Then he's like nah
So you make him read one
He can't even make it halfway through lol
The foreplay itself made him hard enough to want you and to want to be in you
Grabs the phone and sits next to you
" I'm hard "
You look at him like boy what
Then he tell you that he now understood why people read them and that he's happy that people read them too help themselves
And you're like okay and what's the point
Pulls you on his lap
Whines at the feeling of to your butt on his arousal
Makes you stand now lol
Pulls his pants to his thighs and even yours
Places himself in you so that now when you sit on his lap again, not only is your back to his chest
Also his dick is in you
Somehow finishes the rest of the fic and just thrusts up into you
Cause you feel so heavently around him
Goes on and on and on till you're bouncing on his lap
Cums in you and just stays there till you finish your work
Still has mixed feeling now tho
Cause if reads them he wants you to be there near him and he wants to read more cause these fics are very addicting
#sf9#sf9 smut#sf9 reactions#sf9 scenarios#sf9 imagines#sf9 x reader#sf9 x reader smut#youngbin#inseong#jaeyoon#dawon#rowoon#zuho#yoo taeyang#hwiyoung#chani#youngbin smut#inseong smut#jaeyoon smut#dawon smut#rowoon smut#zuho smut#yoo taeyang smut#hwiyoung smut#chani smut
331 notes
·
View notes
Note
if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?
i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D
if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)
"who says we can't do something on our own?"
(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)
cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)
I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind
"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.
What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:
"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.
"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.
Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.
"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.
You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.
"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.
~~~~
With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.
The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).
A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).
After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"
The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.
"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.
The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.
That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?
~~~~
In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.
"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?
Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"
"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"
"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"
"nope :)"
You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.
In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.
"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."
"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."
"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.
~~~~
After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.
You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.
And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.
Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.
"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.
"Who says we can't do something on our own?"
#did not know how to end oops#mamamoo x reader#hwasa x reader#mamamoo hwasa#ahn hyejin#hwasa fanfic#hwasa imagines#hwasa#mamamoo fic#mamamoo imagines#mamamoo scenarios#girl group fanfic#girl group imagines#girl group scenarios#kpop#kpop fic#gg fic#gg fanfic#requested
99 notes
·
View notes
Note
OOOOOOO YOU ARE LIKE, ONE OF THE VERY FEW PERSON WHO ACTUALLY NOTICED A'S ENTIRE PROBLEM OF ADVOIDANCE. sorry since I will now also ramble about A a lot for the next few paragraphs
I HAVE LEGIT TALKED TO MY FRIENDS ALL THE TIME about how all of the flashback having him trying to turn away from all the atrocities he committed, and it is not like he is ignorant about all of the death and tragedy that happened around him he just turn his gaze away from it in order to keep pushing on due to what you said about him being mentally fragile like you said i.e the option of ignoring Elijah slowly dying, him talked about how he already knows Gabriel's stage of grief long before his fall via his manner and clothing change but decided to turn away from it, it is even more evident when you got into the A(s) where Abel talking about he tried to keep pretending everything was fine and thing would become better tomorrow but then it never did, Abram talking about how every atrocities he committed made him feel disgusted at himself but decided to close his eyes to it until he becomes numb to it and Ayin who literally said it once again in the very end that the thing he has always been aware of but ignored from the very beginning is that people are losing hope, he just turns away from it since he feels like he like as a person he is couldnt do anything about it along with many other person in the City who just willingly ignore said problem but Carmen is different and willing to make a change so he is drawn to her that much (which kinda like, any other lob characters who joined the lab because of Carmen honestly)
Which then contribute to the cognitive filter and the meaning of Lobotomy Corp itself imo? the sephirah switching back to their robot form as the manager finished their suppression is also symbolize that A has came to finally be able to face the past tragedy born from the the goal he trying to reach rn that he has been avoiding for so long, the meaning of the script wasn't just "everyone does their job so we can seed like we baking a cake recipe" to me imo but also A digging into the repetitive past over and over again to reminded himself who has forgot and to find answer from it as someome who is not you know "himself" and solving his own crisis tbh? And I would like to add that this doesn't mean as in "oh A's plan is actually nice sunshine and rainbow actually" but more on "Lobotomy Corporation's cycle has more personal meaning to the protagonist development himself rather than just heading toward a pre set goal" which isnt like what the game is only about in case someone quote me on "uhm actually the game is about capitalism suck" but still a very huge plot point and theme which somehow A LOT of people tend to miss this specific nuanced which lowkey surprised me a lot ngl?
(0) (1) (3) (4)
YEAH YOU. YOU GET IT
Avoidance is A's ENTIRE whole thing even visually?? like ykno how in practically every single illustration of him he's always standing off somewhere alone and we never see his face.
i didnt even go into the three As of christmas past which is tragic so i love that you brougt em up because you are so right
the script is kinda two-fold in that it is There but also only Angela knows it exists, because what really makes the seed of light is pun possibly intended enlightenment. Which makes it impossible imo to just do it rote, which is why we have Angela doing the thing where she needles everyone into being horrible so A can needle everyone into getting better. It's a whole thing.
BUT that also means any character progression is sincere. They genuienly are moving on and changing and we see them become permanently better and healthier even if they still have problems in lor.
The switch back to robot forms is also suuuper signifcant and big yeah on it symbolizing A moving on, which contributes to the feel i had of "putting ghosts to rest."
i guess my thing abt A being a reactive character can come across as him just heading to a pre set goal but i agree 100% it has a LOT of personal meaning to him e.g again sephirah meltdowns enlightenment coping with his grief
again i just feel it's difficult to really get one coherent reading of this because in the end A does just die and I wonder if maybe it was about lessening his own feelings of guilt and disgust toward himself that he could allow himself to die.
Redemption through death is a trope i dislike typically but lobcorp did it with so much build up and implication i Cannot be mad at them bcuz like as i said in my post where else would A go? what else would he do? everything went to hell in a handbasket much too long ago.
if someone says the games are JUST about capitalism bad i WILL fight them because they are about breaking out of cycles and learning to cope and moving on and trying to exist and live in a world that so vehemently denies happiness
in fact once it was implied that perhaps my own reading of the game was that shallow i made my previous ayin post so yeah. yeah.
anon i am mentally shaking your hand i am rotating your ask in my mind
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
lesson learned
pairing: nerd!jaemin x reader
genre: smut / slight fluff
warnings: language, unprotected sex (stay safe!), riding, thigh riding, grinding, finger sucking, dirty talk, slight degradation
prompts: none
summary: tinted cheeks and sheepish glances might’ve been a delight to observe every time his eyes scanned intellectual phrases on books, but as your words reached dangerous levels, you realized not all is what it seems.
requested by anon.
word count: 2.5k
note: anonnie... I think I got carried away with this a lil bit, oops. I hope you enjoy this though, thank you for requesting! jaemin with glasses is superior oof
cherrysung’s navigation
Na Jaemin. Pink cheeks and flushed neck and ears, thin-rimmed glasses that rested peacefully on the bridge of the most perfect nose you’d seen, and his sharp eyes that appeared narrow and hooded as they scanned over way too complicated words that showed up unnecessarily in fiction books.
He wasn’t the stereotypical nerd, in fact, he quite honestly debunked endless labels and beliefs that people like him had endured for years. Unlike portrayed in movies or anywhere else, Na Jaemin was impressingly handsome if you said so yourself. Masculine yet soft features adorned the smooth of his skin like a freshly painted artwork, facial structure built with a jawline that you’d mistake to be carved out by the gods themselves if you didn’t know any better, and an overall physique that even the most athletic guys at college envied. How come the school’s certified nerd was also the biggest hottie? Pair that up with a well-mannered and gentle personality—you get the sweetest boy at heart.
Conservative and reserved most of the time, with his second home being the local library, Jaemin was almost always indulged in some sort of imaginary world. Although popular for his looks, nobody dared approach him, as everybody knew how much he overflowed with shyness, and even oftentimes unintentionally blocked out the social souls that made an effort to utter a word to him.
It didn’t come as a surprise that his grades were also astronomically A+ class and more. There was no need for him to search with concern over universities and a promising education, because unlike you, they actually chased after him. On the other hand, though you did an okay job at even the most challenging subjects, it wasn’t enough to you or to your demanding and irritable parents. Given that, your teacher thought that if you really wanted to improve, getting Jaemin assigned as a tutor seemed like a perfect idea.
Indeed; it was.
Somehow the smartest and quietest senior also turned out to be picky. His looks weren’t the only thing he was popular for—his constant declines on those who wished desperately for his help was too. To say you were shocked that he agreed to lend you a hand, was an understatement.
You officially met Jaemin on a Monday afternoon when the bell rang loudly throughout the empty halls and students escaped tiredly the dull classrooms as if they were prisons. Your calculus teacher called you and the boy over to her wooden, polished desk, where piles of papers that were filled with red marks stacked up. Jaemin carried himself gracefully at all times, dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt with black shoes, you genuinely wondered how such a simple outfit suddenly looked expensive. Not only did his clothes seem to be put together, so did his life in general. He would never miss a day of college even if destiny wanted him to, and his schedule was so precise you felt like an absolute shame next to him.
“Mr. Na Jaemin,” the teacher cleared her throat, hands twirling a red-inked pen between her fingers as she smiled at the boy standing next to you. “At this point, I don’t know why I bother with you anymore, you always seem to decline. But, I thought I should ask you if you were up to helping your fellow classmate over here. She surely has potential, but is clearly struggling.”
You shifted nervously on your feet, cheeks becoming a faint tint of rosy red as your teacher slid over your calculus test towards Jaemin. It read D+. Nearly the entirety of the front page was marked in red, multiple comments explaining why your answers were wrong and circles pointing out your hideous mistakes all for a genius to judge.
His eyes skimmed over your answers, a smile threatening to creep up on his pink lips at just how ridiculous and senseless your processes could get. “I see. Yeah, she seems to have an idea of the topics but probably gets confused easily.”
Ouch.
“Well, would you do me the favor of maybe tutoring her every week for, say, a month?”
He glanced down at you for a split second, gaze returning back to the test in his hands as fast as he had looked away from it. His words sounded direct, leaving his lips with security and firm knowledge; yet, you were sure you could feel his timidity from classrooms away.
“Sure.”
Two weeks later, Jaemin had been tutoring you patiently, sharing his knowledge and tips as best as he could. You discovered, conversational skills and socializing definitely weren’t Jaemin’s specialty, his words spilling from his lips in stumbles and stutters that sounded adorable nonetheless. Contrary to the way he spoke whenever you casually asked him something about him—whether it be his personality, where he’s from, the things he enjoys—to the way his sentences flowed flawlessly whenever he was explaining how a math problem worked, was intriguing to you.
There was something about him that felt new, and mysterious. He was introverted, quite protective of his surroundings and himself; though, somehow the way his middle finger elegantly pushed his spectacles up a tiny bit, and the way his hand occasionally brushed with yours whenever he turned to a new page on your alarmingly huge calculus textbook was doing things to you.
“So, Jaemin,” you interrupted him, his head rising up in question at your sudden intrusion, hand holding a pencil he had been using to point out esencial steps for Definite Integrals. The two of you were currently sitting at your study desk in your bedroom, home alone on a slightly rainy Friday evening, with papers lying around the table and the floor that had infinite math practice tests he had obligated you to do. “How are you so good at calculus. Well, everything, honestly?”
The tip of his ears flushed a deep shade of pink at your indirect compliment, visibly swallowing as his Adam’s apple swiftly moved up and then down. “Uh, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always practiced a lot as a kid? Maths is my favorite subject so it’s not hard for me…”
His attention was never on you, instead, his eyes shifted awkwardly as long as they successfully avoided your own. You were enjoying his confusion more than you’d like to admit, collecting your thoughts and speaking up once again before he returned to explaining boring equations or graphs. “Why’d you agree to help me? You never help.”
He wordlessly shrugged, hand scratching the back of his head with what appeared nervousness as his eyes solely rested on the paper before him and the paper alone. You thought his face became progressively warmer, a light smile etching across your face. “Are you sure you don’t know?” You glanced at him, turning your chair around to face his side profile directly. “I think there must be a reason.”
“There’s none.” He muttered through gritted teeth, the apple of his cheeks becoming impossibly redder by the minute. “Let’s move on to the next topic—”
“Oh, but are you sure there really is no reason at all? ‘Cause you seem to be hardcore blushing right now.” Your finger moved under his chin, gently guiding his eyes towards yours. “Am I the reason for your obvious struggle, Na Jaemin? Do you, maybe, have the hots for me?”
“Y/N, just—you need to, uh, continue practicing.”
“I don’t want to practice anymore.” A giggle left your lips, face nearing the boy’s hot ears. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I think you are so handsome, and I can tell you like me too. Or don’t you?”
“Y/N—”
“Don’t you, Jaemin?”
A quiet curse rumbled throughout his chest and out his lips, hands quickly snapping up to grasp your own. “You really don’t want to bother me right now. Stop.”
“I do want to bother you. I know you’re not some innocent, saint boy, Jaemin. Stop putting up that pure act with me, it’s not working.”
“Alright,” Jaemin mumbled, eyes sharply boring into yours, “then you asked for it.” He roughly pulled you towards him, your wheeled chair sliding back at the impact as your legs almost instantly straddled him. With no more words said, his hands softly kneaded your ass, pressing his hardening member directly on your heat as he began rapidly guiding you up and down his covered length.
Whimpers stumbled off your lips at his movements, hands flying up to hold onto his shoulders for balance. Quite frankly, you never thought Jaemin would do this.
“Cat got your tongue suddenly, princess?” Your breath hitched at the pet name, and Jaemin could only smirk at your reaction. “You were all talk and no game? Where did that confidence go? You are such a needy, little bitch. Be a good girl and ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are—wanting to fuck me instead of practicing your math equations.”
He parted his legs, and you were quick to take off your shorts, sitting on the textured fabric of his denim jeans as your hips continued their previous ministrations with Jaemin’s harsh grasp. Moans were leaving you in an uncontrollable mess, feeling so little and helpless under a boy’s gaze whom everybody believed is a harmless child. There was a look plastered on his features that you wanted engraved in your mind forever; pearly whites sinking tenderly into a swollen, red bottom lip, glasses hanging lowly on his nose, and a hooded stare due to the growing wetness on your sheer panties that seeped out onto his jeans.
Fuck, did those glasses make him look so sinful.
“Jaemin,” you stuttered, “I need to cum.”
“Already? We just started the fun, princess.” His actions contradicted his words, hands moving your hips faster on his thigh as he squeezed the muscles, igniting louder sounds of pleasure from you. “Are you close?”
You nodded frantically, no longer giving care to the huge wet patch you had created on his pants, allowing his hands to move you as fast as he wished, pussy clenching around nothing every time your clit ran over the coarse fabric.
“Go ahead, princess, come all over my thigh, you fucking dirty girl. Make a mess.”
His whispers were enough to bring you to your climax, legs shaking unstoppably as your hips stilled abruptly. Jaemin rubbed your back softly, bringing your chin up to lock lips with you. Ardent, and full of lust, the feeling of his tongue running over your bottom lip brought another wave of heat that pooled between your legs, and he could surely feel it. Pulling away, with a string of saliva attaching the two of you, Jaemin unbuckled the leather belt before unbuttoning his jeans, only pushing them down enough to release his dick. It sprung proudly out of his briefs, gently hitting his belly and begging to be played with.
Jaemin smirked at your wide eyes, your gaze running up and down the veiny cock, with a final touch of an angry and red tip at the top that was leaking with pre-cum.
“Can I suck you?”
“Not today, babygirl, do that some other time,” he shook his head, fingers moving your panties to the side and placing you on top of his hard length, “right now all I want is to feel your dripping, pretty pussy. Ride me.”
You silently obliged like the good girl he thought you were, wet cunt sinking on his dick as your walls instantly welcomed him with endless warmth.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he lowly cursed, “such a fucking good girl. Why don’t we teach you some basic math while you ride my dick? Come on.” His index and middle fingers tapped your bottom lip, your mouth wrapping around them. “You’re going to answer while you suck on my fingers as if it were my cock.”
On cue to his words, your tongue swirled around his digits experimentally while he ruthlessly thrusted up into your tight pussy with a never ending pace.
“What’s seven plus five, princess?”
You whined on his digits, finding the task harder than you expected as his dick was everything you could think about. Jaemin filled you up so well, fingers occasionally driving into the back of your throat as you choked around them. Tears had begun pooling in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment as you gagged around his digits once again. “Twelve!”
“Good job,” he delivered a particularly hard thrust, hitting on your sweet spot successfully and earning himself nearly a scream from you. “What about eighteen plus nine? What’s the answer?”
At this point, he was doing all the work, dick sliding in and out of your walls so fast and deliciously. The only sound you could hear around your bedroom was both your skins’ slapping, and sometimes the choked up cries that left your lips whenever his fingers reached too far back in your throat. Your thoughts only revolved around how good Jaemin was fucking you, and how good the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose looked as he bit his lip. “Twenty-seven!” You struggled to answer, but managed to regardless of his merciless thrusts.
“Four minus nineteen? You got three seconds to answer, sweets.” Jaemin smirked, free hand reaching down to circle rapidly around your clit, his hips speeding up even more. “One.”
“Jaemin, I’m so close!”
He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drool running down your chin as he wiped his digits on his shirt. “Answer me, or you don’t come.”
Your thoughts were absolutely jumbled, puzzled and confused, searching hazily for a simple answer you couldn’t remember.
“Two.” The movements of his fingers on your swollen bud were beginning to slow down.
“Jaemin, wait!”
“Three—”
“Negative! Negative fifteen, the answer is negative fifteen.”
He cooed at you, speeding up his actions once more as you cried out, head resting on his shoulder tiredly while you slightly bit into the flesh, eliciting hisses that flew from his lips.
“Fuck, I’m so close. Princess, can I fill you up with my cum?”
“Please,” tears ran down your face, your cries muffled as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “please do. Come inside of me, Jaemin, fill me up so well.”
Your desperate pleads and the frantic clenching of your pussy were enough to bring him to the edge, your release following not much long after as his warm cum completely coated your walls white, some seeping out from your cunt and onto his member. Jaemin eventually slowed down his thrusts to a stop, chest heaving up and down as pants left the two of you.
“For your information, I do have the hots for you, too.” He exhaled out a laugh, pulling your body closer to his and gently pecking the top of your head.
“I can’t believe everybody calls you a nerd,” you chuckled, “you literally fucked me into oblivion.”
“Well, you were riling me up. I hope you learned your lesson, little miss.”
“Yeah, I did.” You admitted with a giggle.
“Well, you better keep that pretty mouth closed, we don’t want people knowing the school’s nerd wrecked you so bad, right? Besides, I don’t think I want this to just be a one time thing.” Your head rose at his confession, eyes looking into his own for an answer. “How about a date tomorrow?”
You smiled, sweetly pecking his cheek. “I’d love that. How about I suck your cock after that?”
Jaemin smirked, “your house or mine?”
#neowritingsnet#na jaemin#jaemin#jaemin smut#jaemin fluff#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#nct smut#nct fluff#jaemin blurbs#jaemin drabbles#nct dream scenarios#nct scenarios#nct jaemin#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#jaemin fics#nct fics#nct dream fics#nct dream imagines#na jaemin smut#na jaemin fluff#na jaemin blurbs#na jaemin drabbles#na jaemin scenarios
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚♀️
Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!
It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.
Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh
(Y/N) is a new doctor at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally. He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.
Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.
One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door.
He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.
Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”
Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured.
He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.
Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.
You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.
But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.
So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.
Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care.
Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.
It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.
You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him, but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally. Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.
Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.
Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.
“You as well Y/N.”
——
The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches.
A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.
Cute.
Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day. Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear, moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it, noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.
Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.
Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings. He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.
He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.
One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in.
“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.
The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.
“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting. How are you feeling today?”
Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.
“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”
“Mm, let’s have a look.”
You kneeled down, giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.
Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?
“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”
You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.
Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.” Just like his mom. When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.
With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?
“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”
Ah, yes, his job.
His job that he should probably getting back to.
Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.
Was he developing feelings for you?
——
It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.
But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?
His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him.
Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam. He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?
In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss.
Maybe he could fire you.
No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.
He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn.
——
If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.
Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.
He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain. You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.
Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly?
He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence. He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer.
In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile, but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question.
So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break.
Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N) having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there.
When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.
“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”
You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.
“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.
“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”
“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.
“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”
Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”
You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.
“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.
Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.
Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies.
It was all the confirmation he needed.
——
After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.
It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating. He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.
So he had his agency install new security cameras.
One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable.
Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.
But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired.
He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.
Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime.
She was such an amazing woman.
Shouto saw her in you.
The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.
The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it. Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.
Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid. He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.
Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.
One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.
——
Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.
Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt too much. He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so.
The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?
At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused.
Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?
The door opened.
“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”
Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.
“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”
And you can’t get out.
You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.
“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.
Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.
“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”
You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did. And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy.
HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad.
Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.
When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.
“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard. His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.
You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.
Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.
The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.
“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”
Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach.
It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.
Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.
But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.
Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp.
You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.
The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air.
It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.
Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation.
He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.
Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.
With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach.
“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”
He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”
Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.
To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.
“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven.
Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.
When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”
The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”
His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop.
“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.
“I love you… think I always have.”
It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.
#yandere#yandere oneshot#todoroki shouto#yandere shouto#aphrodisiac#uh oh#Shouto lies#Shouto#bnha shouto#shouto x reader#shouto x y/n#yandere todoroki
716 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shots
Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter
Summary: Based on this prompt from anon: "Reader gets drunk for the first time - like REALLY drunk - and Yondu does nooot like it"
Author's note: Title sucks but I couldn't think of anything better. I was actually drunk when I wrote most of this (it's when inspiration finally struck to fulfill the prompt lol) but I obviously finished and edited it sober. That being said, I feel an obligation to say that the things Reader does in this story aren't necessarily written from experience, I was just trying to think what the most embarrassing things you could do while drunk would be lol. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,470
One thing was certain, and it was that Yondu was going to shove his arrow up his ravagers' collective asses.
Yondu had long suspected you wouldn't be able to handle your liquor ever since you became old enough to drink. He noticed how you always got tipsy after just one beer, however luckily, you always stopped after around two, so it had never really been a problem.
Until tonight, that is. Because everyone was celebrating a big score gone well and Peter thought it'd be fun for you to take shots with him and the guys. Now Yondu had to deal with you being drunk off your ass.
He had pulled Peter aside and growled at him to knock it off earlier that night after he noticed you taking the first shot, saying, "The girl can't handle her liquor, boy! Don't be giving her any more, ya hear me?"
This was met with Peter calling Yondu overprotective, but he ultimately conceded and swore that he wouldn't give you anymore shots.
But Yondu hadn't said anything about Oblo, Tullk, or Horuz, had he?
The others thought it was real funny how giggly and expressive you'd get when drunk, so it didn't take much convincing from Peter for them sneak you shots when Yondu wasn't looking.
By the time Yondu noticed what had happened he was pissed.
He marched over to where you sat next to the guys. You were laughing your ass off at a dumb joke Tullk made, and you were surprised when you saw him and the other three jump up and high tail it out of the way without explanation.
Then Yondu sat in front of you.
"Heyyy!" you giggled, playfully shoving the captain in the shoulder. "Wassup?"
Yondu's eyes narrowed. "How much did you have?"
"What?"
"How much to drink, girl. I know they were giving ya shots, how many?"
You giggled and pretended to look yourself over. "I dunno what ya mean, I haven't been shot." You then preceded to laugh your ass off at what you thought was a hilarious joke.
"PETER!" Yondu snarled, looking around but unable to find the Terran. Kraglin happened to be walking by just then so he settled for pulling him in to see if he could answer the question. "Krags, did'ya happen to see how many she had?"
Kraglin was startled at having been suddenly jerked towards the two of you, but he answered as honestly as he could. "I'm not exactly sure, Cap, but I think I did notice her have at least four? Maybe five? Why?"
Yondu released the first mate's sleeve and sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Dammit. I'm gonna kill Quill." he said, before standing and pulling you up from your seat. "Come on. Yer going to bed." he said gruffly.
"Aw! But I don't want to!" you whined as he dragged you from the bar, unable to even really walk straight.
"Tough." Yondu said. "I don't like ya getting drunk like this. It ain't good fer ya. You'll only get into trouble."
"But ya let the other guys!" you pouted as the doors swung shut behind you and Yondu.
"They can handle it. Ya can't." he said flatly. Almost as if on cue you stumbled and almost brought the two of you down. This caused you to giggle madly as Yondu lost his grip on you.
"Catch me if you can!" you squeal in delight as you take off down the corridor.
Yondu swore under his breath as he ran after you. He might've called his arrow to stop you in your tracks, but he was worried that your drunk ass would accidentally run into the flarkin thing if he stopped it in front of your face to halt you.
Luckily for him you weren't exactly fast in your drunken state and he caught you quickly, grabbing you about the waist and pulling you back.
You squeaked at the contact, batting him away. "That tickles! Don't!" you giggle, squirming away.
Yondu rolled his eyes and sighed, moving his hands to instead rest on your shoulders as he steadied you.
The next couple minutes were relatively quiet, you were just softly giggling and babbling about nonsense while Yondu kept guiding you down the corridor to your quarters.
You were about halfway there when you were hit with a sudden and bad urge to pee. "Wait a sec." you drunkenly slur to your guide and before Yondu could even react you had already pulled down your pants and had squatted to take a piss in the damn hallway.
Once Yondu realized what was happening he jerked back and looked away, both not wanting anything to splash back on him, and also obviously not interested in looking, grateful that your jacket had blocked anything he might have seen before he reacted and looked away. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his face flushed with embarrassment and irritation at the situation, but there wasn't exactly a whole lot he could do about it in the moment, it had just happened so quick. He waited until he heard you stand up before looking back.
"I can't believe ya just pissed on my floor." he grumbled, side-stepping the mess and calling up Kraglin to send someone down to clean the ... "spill..." in the corridor leading towards the crew quarters.
He finally got you to your quarters and ushered you inside so you could sleep it off. He started to nudge you towards your bed when you suddenly announced you were going to be sick.
Yondu's eyes went wide, and not wanting a similar incident like what had happened in the hallway he quickly ripped a nearby trashcan from the floor and shoved it towards you.
After you had finished vomiting you placed the trashcan back on the floor and stumbled back into a seated position on the bed. "I don't feel well..."
"Gee, I wonder why." Yondu said bitterly, arms crossed over his chest. "Ya need to go to bed."
Just then your eyes flew open and you dumped yourself onto the floor, pulling the trashcan back towards you as you began to vomit again.
Yondu sighed. If anyone were to ask him about what he did next he'd deny it. He knelt down next to you and gently pulled your hair back so that you wouldn't get sick into it, and there he stayed for a good bit while you emptied the contents of your stomach.
When you had finally finished you sat up and leaned your back against your bed. Then, almost as if noticing Yondu for the first time you leaned into him and hugged him tightly.
He was almost warmed by the gesture, but then to his chagrin, you started bawling.
He made a grimace but returned the hug tentatively, occasionally giving gentle pats to your back with a "There, there." not really knowing what else to do.
Well, except for one thing. He glanced up to see the door was still opened, and without disturbing you too much from your places on the floor, he kicked it closed. No way in hell was one of his crew going to walk in on this scene and see him being all soft and shit. No way.
Eventually you did start to quiet down and then Yondu attempted to gently prod you into standing up so you could get into bed. Unfortunately for him, you only mumbled nonsense and nuzzled in closer like he was a damn teddy bear or something. So, he gently pried your arms away from him so he could stand up before helping you to your feet.
He had gotten you halfway into bed when it happened. You got sick again. Only this time you didn't use the trashcan. You got sick on him.
Yondu's stomach churned but he kept it together, Taking a not-so-deep breath (because of the smell) to keep himself from angrily setting off. There'd be plenty of time to yell at you in the morning, he reasoned.
He quickly put you the rest of the way in bed and luckily you seemed to fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow. However, not before mumbling out a, "Night, dad." Yondu raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't give himself time to dwell on it. He was eager to leave and get cleaned up.
He was about a quarter of the way to his quarters when he came across a laughing group a ravagers cutting up and being silly in the corridors. It was Peter, Oblo, and Kraglin, and they all stopped laughing when they noticed both the murderous look on their captain's face and the mess of sick on his clothes as he approached.
Yondu didn't stop to talk. Merely glared at them as he made his way past. "Not. A. Word." he growled at their surprised faces.
They obeyed, but it didn't stop their giggles once they thought he was out of earshot and they put two and two together. You were really gonna get it in the morning, they thought.
***
The next morning Yondu gave extra cleaning duties to Peter and the other ravagers who got you plastered the night before. He didn't say it was punishment for what happened, after all it wasn't like there was a rule against it, but they still knew he was mad. He had woken them up at 5am to tell them to get started while everyone else slept in, after all.
He called you into his quarters shortly after and you made your way over hungover and groggy, the previous night mostly a blur.
You lightly rapped on his door to announce your presence and flinched when you were met with a loud "Come in! It's open!"
You opened the door and groaned as you entered the room that Yondu had made uncharacteristically bright by seemingly turning on every freaking light he had. Through squinted eyes you made out the form of your captain and you cringed again when he called out in a booming voice, "Have fun last night?" making your temples throb.
Basically, Yondu was being a dick.
You grunted in response and he spoke up again. "So, ya remember anything from last night?" he asked, randomly speaking certain words louder than they needed to be, just to make you further regret your hangover.
You rubbed a hand over your eyes and made another grunt while shrugging your shoulders.
"What was that? Couldn't hear ya." he said, a slight smirk playing over his lips.
You groaned and spoke up, "I dunno. Had some drinks with Peter and the guys, went to bed?" You honestly didn't know why he had to call you in so damn early. Whatever mischief you got up to with the guys couldn't have been that bad that this couldn't wait until noon.
"Oh hoho, no!" Yondu laughed almost bitterly, clapping his hands together with a loud pop that made you flinch in pain from the loud noise. "Ya did a lot more than that, missy."
You just stared up at him weakly, half not giving a shit & wishing to go back to bed and half worried you had done something either dangerous or embarrassing.
"I s'pose ya don't remember getting sick all over me?" he asked.
Your eyes flew wide, your former grogginess forgotten. Oh no. Please let him be joking. "I'm- so sorry." you stammered, both in embarrassment and in concern for how he was going to deal with you for that. Surely you wouldn't get off scot-free for vomiting on your captain. "I- sorry- I-" you didn't really know what to say. You had apparently thrown up all over your captain the night before. What could you say?
"Oh that ain't all." Yondu said in a tone that was obvious it was about to get worse.
Your stomach fell. What could possibly be worse than having drunkenly vomited on your captain? You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you cringed and asked, "Do I wanna know?"
"Prob'ly not, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway." Yondu said, his hands on his hips. "Ya remember when ya pissed in the hallway?"
Your face turned scarlet. "What?! Please tell me you're joking."
"Nope. Ya ripped yer drawers down and popped a squat right in the corridor."
You covered your burning face with your hands. That. That was what could be worse than throwing up on your captain- literally pissing on his floor in front of him. This was so humiliating, and it only got worse once you realized you probably did it in front of the rest of the crew too. You lowered your hands and asked, "Oh god. How many people saw??"
Yondu wanted to scare you a bit and tell you that you did it in front of the whole crew, but he saw tears start to form in your eyes and just couldn't bring himself to do it. "Lucky fer you, no one but me. Ya did it when I was dragging yer ass to your quarters to sleep it off. Ya didn't get sick on me til after that."
Oddly enough, that didn't make you feel much better. You tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. "God, I'm never drinking again."
Yondu scoffed with a laugh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Ain't no one who's ever said that follows through though," he chuckled. He expected you to laugh too, but he made a grimace when he saw how miserable you looked. "Aw, come here." he said, pulling you into a hug. "Look, everyone's done embarrassin' shit when they're drunk. It's just part of life. It ain't the end of the world."
You sniffed. "Even you?"
Yondu rolled his eyes and begrudgingly answered. "Ya brat. Even me." He could tell you wanted to ask, but he moved the conversation along, moving to hold you out at arm's length. "Better?"
You sheepishly nod and say, "I guess..."
"Good. Ya can be off then."
You looked at him in confusion. "You mean I'm not in trouble?"
Yondu laughed. "Well, from the look on your face, I thought the humiliation was punishment enough, but since ya asked I guess I can assign ya extra kitchen duties this week. Ya can fill in tonight through Thursday for Gef."
You grimaced but accepted your fate. "Yes, sir," you say before turning to leave his quarters.
Yondu chuckled and shook his head after you closed the door behind you, flipping off some of the unnecessary lights. There may be some hiccups now and then, but his not-so-little girl wasn't turning out too bad.
And even though he knew you'd deny it sober, he was proud you called him dad.
But he'd be damned if he let you drink with Peter again.
#gotg#guardians of the galaxy#gotg fic#fanfic#yondu#yondu udonta#yondu x reader#drunk#drinking#peter quill#ravagers#reader is a ravager#fluff#embarrassing#fanfiction#dad!yondu#papa!yondu
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
📁 for the fuckboy anon.
TW: toxic relationships and abuse
Bakugou has a distorted understanding of romance.
His mother is always loud, always pushing and pushing and pushing until she gets what she wants. She’s violent; she’s crass; she hits her husband when she gets mad because it makes her feel powerful, hits her son because that’s just what you’re supposed to do with shitty kids like him, right?
His father is quiet. Unassuming. No one expects much of him, and that’s exactly how he likes it. Honesty eludes him; manipulation is his friend. He lies to his wife when she asks him where he was last night, lies to his son when he asks why his mother hurts him like she hates him.
Bakugou also wants to be the best. He loves a challenge, thrives in spite and winning and the thrill of proving people wrong. So when his friends start teasing him about his lack of romantic life, he takes it like the bait it was never meant to be.
Long story short, Bakugou gets into a toxic relationship.
It’s a general studies girl. She’s been approaching him, flirting with him, constantly for weeks. He’s told her no, told her to fuck off multiple times, but she’s kept at it. And that’s a good thing, right? Admirable. It means she’s serious, persistent, stubborn, strong. Just like his mother was when she’d gone after his dad. This is how relationships work, isn’t it?
Bakugou thinks so. So when she corners him outside the locker room for the fiftieth time, he tells her yes - just two days after his squad’s teasing. The two go on their first date that weekend, and Bakugou tells the squad the following Monday.
They look shocked, and weirdly enough, not nearly as happy about this new development as Bakugou had anticipated. But they’re supportive, despite their strained smiles.
Bakugou keeps going out with this girl. He doesn’t like it much, but he made a commitment and damn him if he’s going to back out now. For a while, she sits with him and the squad at lunch, always clinging to his arm and demanding a share of his food even though she knows she can’t handle the spice. Bakugou honestly thinks it’s cute how she pushes past her limits like that, finds it refreshing how she isn’t afraid to throw his shit right back at him when he’s being a dick.
(The class is always weirdly nice to him when he fucks up, but she isn’t; she tells him when he’s being lazy or stupid or mean and it’s familiar. It makes sense. He listens when she tells him to shut up because his laugh is too ugly, to stay still when she kisses him even if he doesn’t want to. He listens because that’s what you’re supposed to do in relationships, and he always gives his best no matter what.)
(His friends... don’t seem to like her very much. He doesn’t know why.)
She starts dragging him away during lunches. Bakugou supposes it makes sense; they’re dating, so they’re supposed to spend a lot of time together. She gets angry at him when he doesn’t text her back right away, and a lot of their dates are scheduled on the same days as Bakusquad hangouts. When Bakugou tries to back out, to explain, she pushes and pushes and pushes, and he lets her.
(His mom is happy with him, too. He let it slip that he got a girlfriend, and she called him brat and ruffled his hair like she hasn’t in years. You’re lucky she has shit taste, she said, told him not to scare her away by being a pest.)
(And quietly, secretly, he wants her to look at him like that again. Like he’s worth something. He wants her to smile at him more and pet his hair and love him, just a little bit. So he keeps at it, keeps going out with this girl as she tells him to stop talking so much and don’t smile, you look like a lunatic and it’s just a hickey, Suki, don’t be such a prude.)
He comes to class and he can’t look anyone in the eye, because he knows they see the marks on his neck and his face. The imprints of teeth and bruises and little crescent moons on his cheeks and his jaw and his nape from her fingernails. She likes to dig them into his face to get his attention, into his neck to keep him still while she kisses him. (It’s almost worse than the hickeys, because they’re proof of how often he fucks up, how often she needs to set him straight.)
She slaps him sometimes, when he’s done something especially shitty - ignored her for too long, said the wrong thing. Sometimes she’ll ignore him for a few days, when she’s tired of dealing with his shit, but she always comes back. She’s nice about it too - doesn’t make him drag himself out to apologize like his mom does.
Meanwhile, his classmates, his friends, his teachers are just. So concerned. Fucking enraged. Bakugou has become subdued in a way that they have never seen before, and Deku, for his part, is terrified and furious. This girl walks all over his Kacchan and he just lets her, and for the life of him Deku can’t figure out why.
(Once, at lunch, when she and Bakugou were still sitting with them in the cafeteria, she told Bakugou to laugh quieter, it’s gross and everyone can hear you. And he’d just listened. That wide, rare, precious grin had been wiped right off his face and he’d quieted down instantly. No one had said anything out of pure shock.)
(Kirishima, Mina, the rest of the squad, Deku, Uraraka, hell even Todoroki - they were seething. Because Bakugou rarely, rarely let himself laugh like that - hell, all of them sans Deku could count on one hand the times they’d seen his little happy-smile - and this bitch had destroyed those few precious seconds of genuine, carefree laughter because she was fucking self-conscious. If they could kill people with a look, half the goddamn class would have been charged with murder.)
They all hate her. They want to grab Bakugou and shake him and tell him to break up with this bitch, but he doesn’t even have the time to talk to them anymore. The squad wants their Katsuki back, Deku wants his Kacchan back, the class wants their friend back. It’s been weeks. They don’t know what to do.
Their savior comes in the form of one Shinsou Hitoshi.
He’s been watching all this go down from afar, and it’s pissed him right off. He doesn’t know Bakugou that well, honestly thinks he’s a bit of an asshole, but he likes him. He cares about him. They spar occasionally (or they used to), and it’s grueling and fun and satisfying as shit.
There’s this... something in Bakugou. Too big and too bright to call a fire, too hot and too close to call the sun. And this girl - this toxic, abusive bitch - is smothering it, smothering him, and Shinsou is sick of it.
It’s week six of this bullshit and he does what no one has managed to do in all that time: he finds Bakugou and corners him - away from that toxic bitch he calls his girlfriend.
(Let’s all thank Aizawa for that one. Underground hero training is useful as shit.)
He confronts him about it - asks him, pointblank, “Why do you put up with her?”
And all he gets in response is the most genuinely bemused expression he’d ever seen on Bakugou’s face.
Something in Shinsou’s stomach drops.
“The fuck are you on about?”
“Your girlfriend, dipshit,” he says, like it’s obvious, because it is. “Why do you let her treat you like shit?”
Bemusement shifts into pure, unadulterated confusion, and that thing in Shinsou’s stomach falls right down to his feet.
“I don’t let her do shit, dumbass.” He almost sounds indignant. “Now outta my way, I got places to be.”
Bakugou lightly shoves past him, but Shinsou grabs his wrist before he can leave. The blond glances back at him in irritation. Pale, fluorescent light casts dramatic shadows across his face, darkens the marks and the bruises dotting fair skin.
Shinsou grits his teeth. “She hurts you.”
Bakugou doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, so?”
The brainwasher’s grip goes slack.
He doesn’t fully register that Bakugou has dislodged his arm until he’s standing alone in the hallway, but when he does, the first thought that crosses his mind is I have to tell dad.
(The thing about Shinsou is that he knows abuse. He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like, because he’s been through it himself. And yet for the longest time, he had no idea that what his foster parents were doing even constituted as wrong.)
(Then he met Aizawa, and he learned a few things. It fucking sucked, and for a while, nothing felt real and everything was wrong and he didn’t know what to do. But Aizawa was there for him, helped him through all the nitty-gritty-shitty parts of having your whole world turned inside-out, and lo-and-behold, Shinsou got adopted like four months ago.)
(But the point is, Shinsou isn’t an idiot. He knows this shit, he’s been through this shit, and the fact of the matter is that there is no way Bakugou would think that what he’s going through is okay unless he’s used to it. So what the fuck does Shinsou do now?)
(He goes to the man that pulled him out of the fire.)
(“Dad, I need to talk to you.”)
#I will FINISH this TRAVESTY#but TOMORROW because I am TIRED#seriously you fuckboy what the hell#this was supposed to be short#how did this even happen#bakusquad#toxic relationships#bakudeku#todobaku#kiribaku#platonic bakushin#dadzawa
333 notes
·
View notes