#bleeding chrome
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"H1 was not detered by her flashy show. He didn't believe in magic, and he wasn't going to be detered from bringing her back to Sihugen."
Once again, this has been coloured by 'Dimlock'. The colours in the middle are the colours I sent to her for reference purposes.
This is a day from draw everything June by @adorkastock . I wanted to change the pose from a dance into a fight, with the drawn back arm representing a spell about to be cast.
#artists on tumblr#artwork#digital art#illustration#oc art#art#my art#anthro#steampunk#steampunk art#steampunk robot#drawing#my draws#the model bleeding chrome#bleeding chrome#cosmic#draw everything june 2024#adorkastock#anthro character#dance fight#drawing process#fantasy art#sci fi#scifi#robots#robot#robot oc#robotics
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wip wednesday
technically wednesday here tho if i'll ever finish this cos it was written by the seat of my pants so-
have a lil whatever this is
And stillâ
I love you.
Itâs hardly them.
Itâll never be them, so Victoria sighs and rolls her eyes, reaching effortlessly for a distaste that sits comfortable in her arsenal and ignores the cyborg behind her. Standing too close to be nothing but familiar, a towering sentinel that she knows beyond intimately and perhaps even beyond herself; the nooks and dips of Kevlar and panels, where the humming heat of his chest loses its influence on limbs and where she can best rest her head to hear the mockery of a heart in the tick of machinery. His fingers twitch and she feels the cold chrome brush against her own, dangerously close to threading through the space between.
âWell,â she begins with a too-honeyed croon and a sharp clap of golden hands, brooking the ire of the once lovelorn couple only plucked from their destined decades of moping and pining by her own generously bleeding heart, ânot that Iâm not enthralled and entirely endeared to this delightful littleâŠreunion. We do have business to attend.â The easy sort of business, guns and guts. In truth itâs the sort she could just leave them behind for and not lose anything of worth; Adam is more than enough in that regards.
In others as well, though she doesnât care to consider them â not now in too public a space with eyes and ears as sharp as her own. And not while he stands so close, the crisp cold air of the night and her lines of reason undone entirely by his mere presence. No, those thoughts are for later, in the privacy of her own overpriced hotel room while soaking in a warm bath with a glass of wine for company.
But they make to argue, a shared look of glowing eyes as they speak privately over internal comms, a bob of an adamâs apple and the working of a jaw to shape the words that might pry some more precious seconds together instead of doing what theyâre here to do, and she lathers her tongue with a thinly-veiled threat in turn.
âLeave them to it.â Her tongue presses flat against the roof of her mouth at the mechanical words, distorted with a thin layer of static â his vocaliser needs replaced again, or tuned at the very least. Another note added to her list as she just barely turns to regard him and he just barely looks down to do the same.
#idk whats going on here besides vic being forced to consider her and adam#by being an active hand in getting some other merc and netrunner together#finding the one mirror this bitch can't stand#idk how to convey the innate sarcasm in that bleeding heart line#the only time vics heart bleeds is when she's stabbed#wip wednesday#my writing#ship: gilded chrome#victoria crane
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First Microsoft added a confusing briefcase to it's Edge icon on business accounts and now my company's MRP system's menu colors have suddenly changed from a calm dark blue to the brightest, most garish salmon pink you've ever seen in your life :S
Like WTF just happened between me logging off at 3:15 pm yesterday and 8 am this morning????
#At least google told me how to turn off the briefcase icon#Cause I agree the suitcase looks like there's a notification I need to address. It's very distracting#But there's no notice from IT about the menu color change on our system and it's not an office day#(for me anyway)#So I'm just left sitting here like have I gone mad??? Is it just my computer???#I checked it in chrome and had the same blindingly bright salmon so it's not a browser problem#Like WTF is going on????#My eyes are bleeding from this nonsense! D:
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"Uhp-uhp-bup-bup." Danny says loudly, cutting off the crime lord bleeding all over his living room. He presses a finger to his lips, despite knowing that Red couldn't see it, and stifles his rage behind a playful smile.
He's lucky he's facing the kitchen, his back turned to Hood. He can see the fury green of his eyes reflecting back at him in the chrome of the sink, he's threatening to crush the rag in his hands. His vision is futzing out in the corners of eyes.
"We don't speak the 'J' name in this household." He says in almost a sing-song, because if he doesn't, then the Gotham oil sitting, boiling, behind his teeth and coating his tongue will spittle out and Danny's already haunting his apartment just by his mere presence. He doesn't want to haunt it more.
He can hear the whine of the lightbulbs, threatening to burst like a popped balloon. He turns the water off and and rings the rag out tighter than he perhaps should.
"You don't like the clown?" Hood asks him, and Danny's not sure if he's mocking him for it. There's a knowing lilt in his voice that throws back Danny to their first meeting on that balcony. If he were anyone else, Danny might've just punched him.
His heel turns sharply towards him, a tight smile on his face and an even tighter look around his eyes. At least he knows that the green has faded because the pounding behind his eyes are gone, his grief-born, death-made rage sizzling back beneath his veins. "I think you already know why, Ridin' Hood."
A grief like this don't stay buried, after all.
#*cutely gives Danny pit rage* dont worry yall he's just. in a mood. nothing to worry about :]#its not officially pit rage but hey it may as well be interpreted as such#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#cfau#childhood friends au#dead on main#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#is this canon?? bitch it might be. god i wanna write chapter four but the plot bunnies are just not breeding#danny fenton is a banshee#banshee danny fenton#cfau danny#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc au
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lol i guess it was an issue with an extension idk but i finally got it to load thank god
lol so i guess chrome isn't working right now and the only other browser i have at work is microsoft edge so welcome to edgefest
#gawd the ui was so cluttered on edge and it's default search engine fucking sucks#not that i love chrome i hate it too but at least i can look at it without my eyes bleeding
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could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian đ preferably touch starved din
⊠đđđđ âŠ
â KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED
din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words
summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.
cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.
✠KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX âŸ
Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.
Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, youâd spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping.Â
In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. Heâd let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions.Â
In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mandoâs leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mandoâs search for the bounty. Itâs cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you canât see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close⊠So you place your palm on Mandoâs shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view.Â
You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers.Â
Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorianâs stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.
It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.
You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to âcheck the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journeyâ. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.
"Please, please fucking touch me,â Mandoâs voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.âI can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mandoâs head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk.Â
âIt feels like youâve missed me,â you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.
âMâMissed you so much,â he admits, and youâre almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, âHahâ Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.â
Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you.Â
The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds.Â
âFuckââ He growls, practically choking on his own voice, âCâCanât!â
âItâs okay,â you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, âWe can do it againâŠâÂ
Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mandoâs lungs. Itâs so loud that you wouldnât be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet.Â
Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth.Â
Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. Youâre so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated manâ but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control.Â
Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mandoâs head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow downâ swallow around him.Â
âHoh-Fuckâ! Stars,â he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mandoâs trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs.Â
âYour mouthâ hahââ he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. Youâd stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. âItâs so goodâŠâ
âMhmm,â you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, âSo is yours. Put it to use and taste me?â You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.
pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:
@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
#ê°ê° â§âË my works Ëâ· ê±ê±#ê° â§âË din Ëâ· ê±#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin imagine#din djarin smut#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin one shot#din djarin x you#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian drabble#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n#the mandalorian oneshot#star wars#star wars smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#kinktober 2023
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Planetary Magickđ
Sun
Zodiac: Leo
Metal: Gold
Day: Sunday
Colors: organge, yellow, amber
Stones: Amber, topaz, ruby, diamond
Tarot: The Sun
Herbs: Angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, mistletoe
Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, swan
Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, health
Moon
Zodiac: cancer
Metal: sliver
Day: Monday
Colors: blue, sliver
Stones: moonstone, pearl
Tarot: The High Priestess, The Chariot
Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, sandalwood
Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, owl
Influences: gradtitufe, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, dreams
Mercury
Zodiac: Virgo, Gemini
Metal: aluminum, Mercury
Day: Wednesday
Colors: violet, gray, purple, indigo, yellow
Stones: opal agate
Tarot: The Lovers
Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, chickweed
Symbols: wand, octagram, the mind
Influences: good fortune, gratitude, gain, memory, understanding, divination, dreams, forgetfulness, communication, business, cleverness, creativity, information, intellect, memory, perception, science, wisdom, gambling, writing, root of dishonesty, deception
Venus
Zodiac: taurus, libra
Metal: copper
Day: Friday
Colors: green, pink
Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, jade
Tarot: The Empress
Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, sesame
Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, pentagram
Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, promiscuity
Mars
Zodiac: aries, scorpio
Metal: iron, red brass, steel
Day: Tuesday
Color: Red
Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, diamond
Tarot: The Tower
Herbs: ginger, mustard
Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, vulture
Influences: war, victory, judgements, submission of enemies, bleeding, stripping one of rank, harness, discord, conflict, aggression, lust, power, courage, goals, protection, motivation, ambition, strength
Jupiter
Zodiac: pisces, sagittarius
Metal: tin
Day: ThursdayÂ
Colors: blue
Stone: sapphire
Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune
Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, dandelion root
Symbols: eagle, dolphin
Influences: gains, riches, favor, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, dissolving
Saturn
Zodiac: capricorn
Metal: lead
Day: Saturday
Color: black
Stone: onyx
Taror: The World
Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, cypress
Symbols: cuttlefish, mole
Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honor, melancholy
Uranus
Zodiac: aquarius
Day: Thursday
Colors: blue-green, electric blue
Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, diamond
Tarot: The Fool
Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, sweet woodruff
Symbols: dragonfly, butterfly
Influences: breaking connection, sudden and unexpected change, freedom, originality, radical and revolutionary ideas, enlightenment, equality, individuality, rebellion, instability, loneliness, boredom, mistrust of self
Neptune
Zodiac: pisces
Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, neptunium
Colors: green, blue, lavender
Tarot: The Hanged Man
Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, water lily
Symbols: the sea, Trident, the spine
Influences: dissolving boundaries, expanding upon ideas, changing established rules, intuition, idealism, sacrifice, glamour, illusion, evolution, decay, visions, art, healing, inspiration, dreams, creativity, compassion, drifting from reality, carelessness, stubbornness, absent mind
Pluto
Zodiac: scorpio
Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, steel
Day: Tuesday
Colors: maroon, dark red, purple, white, black
Stones: snowflake obsidian, clack tourmaline
Tarot: Judgement
Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, foxglove
Symbols: Phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, eagle
Influences; destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, destruction
#thecupidwitch#witchcraft#planetary magic#witchblr#witchcore#witches#witch community#witch#grimoire#spellwork#spirituality
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Dp x dc prompt:
Danny gave the Justice League a specialized summoning ritual for emergencies in case they can't reach him the normal ways or if they need him there instantly. They've thankfully never had to use it before.
Then Phantom disappears.
He doesn't show up for patrol or monitor duty, doesn't answer his communicator, nothing. The League is getting worried, especially with the increase in ghost activity (and how *weird* that activity is, it's almost like all these ghosts are looking for something, rather than trying to cause trouble, and they take off anytime someone from the League shows up, yelling about the JL being "government goons" as they do).
Out of any other options after a couple weeks of Phantom going MIA, they break out the Summoning Circle, honestly worried that it won't work. That Phantom might be *gone* and they'll never know what happened.
It does work though.
At least, it works to Summon *someone*
A kid, a scrawny teenager with black hair and blue eyes, cut open and bleeding green and red from the gaping Y incision carved into his chest, wearing a medical gown and heavy chrome and green cuffs on his wrists.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#justice league#danny fenton#Danny gets captured by his parents/the GIW and the JL unintentionally save him by trying to summon Phantom#Marvel is the one who realizes who the kid being rushed to medical is#because he knows a thing or two about being a kid the world thinks is an ageless supernatural being#when the Justice League find out what happened heads are gonna roll#eventually when everything settles down and danny has recovered there's a full on battle royal over who's going to adopt him#Batman has too many children already let someone else get in on the adopting sad traumatized children thing
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All I Wanted - Part 1
summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.
pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence
Part 2
A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!
this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!
You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.
You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.
âZus, how much for it all?â he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.
âHow much are you offering?â was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, âthe higher the offer, the betterâ you remember being told before you left. They werenât the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.
â25â
a grimace, â80â
a growl, â40â
a hum, â55â
â65. Final offer,â his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.
A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, âWonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?â out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, âYou have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.â
His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, âIt was a pleasure doing business with you,â and leaving.
You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.
As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.
-
White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.
It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.
Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.
They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.
You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.
The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.
Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.
It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.
"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.
The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.
You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.
Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.
The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.
Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.
Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".
He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.
"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.
Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.
"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.
The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.
Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.
Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.
A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "Whatâs your name?"
Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.
Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.
"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.
"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.
"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.
"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.
Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"
"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#john price x reader#price x reader#captain john price#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#soap x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#141 x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod#call of duty fanfic#x reader
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white noise / track 1: st. patrick
pairing: lee seokmin x afab! reader
series summary: your best friend seokmin has always been there for you. after a particularly rough heartbreak, you find out he's there for you in more ways than just one.
series notes: uni!au, best friends to lovers, friends with benefits, kpop 97 line antics and shenanigans (specifically seventeen & loona), 18+ (smut is outlined/warned beforehand)
chapter notes: alcohol mention and consumption, house party setting, smut!!! (oral sex [afab receiving], protected sex, small insecurity mention), mingyu being pouty, yves being a terrible wingwoman, minghao being the king he is, to my jaehyun lovers i'm so sorry, this is for the orbits for the pain that we've been through
wc: 7.2k (still can't believe i wrote this much)
a/n: i've teased bringing this back a lot and this series still means so much to me, even though it still sits unfinished lol. this first track especially. and if it weren't the support (& excitement) of @onlyseokmins, idk if i ever would've reposted it. so this is for you bb <3 please let me know what you think in the tags or send in asks, i'd love to hear your thoughts! <33
âWhat do you think about this?â
You look over at your friend, her figure adorning a velvet tube top with loose white cloth pants, an outfit thatâs comfortable and light for a steamy college party and yet accentuates her curves enough to show off. Any sane person would tell Yves that she would be the center of attention as soon as she walks through the door, having everyone question if they wanted to be her or be with her.
âIt looks good,â you respond with a nonchalant shrug, going back to aimlessly scrolling on your phone, surrounded by a multi-chrome array of clothes.
You were clearly not the sane person in that scenario.Â
Yves turns to you, exasperated at your attitude. âDude, youâve been so boring since you got your heart broken by Jaehyun.â
âI did not get my heart broken.â
âReally? Because youâre acting like the second lead who just got dumped in a drama.âÂ
âYour outfit and you are hot, like always! Is that what you wanted to hear,â a small chuckle leaves your lips as you stand up from the bed. âAnyways, Iâm not heartbroken, just upset.â
You look over your outfit in the floor-length mirror of the room, your black booties standing out against your mid-wash jean shorts. As you play with your cardigan, your mind wanders to Jaehyun and the ghost of a fling, fleeting and indescribable to anyone not close to you. You begin to wonder how he describes you to his close confidantes, if the small cafe dates and late night study sessions in the library were described with care or if all that mattered were the rushed bedroom antics, leaving you with just a memory and an âI think we should see other peopleâ text message.Â
âTake this off. I know you and youâre going to get hot,â Yves wakes you from your daze, pulling your cardigan off your body, revealing your black cropped tank, âThis is a better outfit anyway. Weâre going to a party, not one of Haseulâs opera recitals.â She joins you in the mirror, a small smile gracing her face as she assesses your outfit. âMuch better. Plus, this,â she gestures to your figure, âwill help you get laid.â
You roll your eyes. âWhat are you talking about?â
âYou know what they say! To get over someone, you have to get under someone new.â
Looking at Yves, her pride evident in her stance and a mischievous gleam in her smile, you were sure of one thing. âYouâre absolutely mental.â
âYou know Iâm right,â Yves insists. âOne way to quickly get over someone is to have sex with someone else. Iâve done it.â Her shameless approach on the topic bleeds through her demeanor, her shoulder sitting low on her upper body as she sits on her bed and one of her legs drapes across the other. Just as you were about to respond to her, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, distracting you and Yves from the current conversation.
LADS âŒïžđŻâŒïž
seokmin: yaâll going to the party tn?
haseul: canât :/ have the late night shift at the library
mingyu: booooo tomato tomato
minghao: and what happened to fuck capitalism?
haseul: try telling our landlord that
minghao: fair enough
yn: yves and i are going!
seokmin: jinsoul?
jinsoul: social battery is pretty low, so iâm probably going to stay home
mingyu: BOOOOO tomato tomato đ
đ
đ
i'm throwing tomatoes!
yves: leave her alone gyu!
jinsoul: iâm not getting you coffee before class anymore for that
minghao: lmao good job gyu
yn: he will be his own downfall
mingyu: :(
seokmin: anyways the boys and i will see yall there!Â
seokmin: do you need a ride?
yves: weâre taking an uber!
minghao: good. stay safe!
Yves looks up from her phone and looks at you with a playful smirk pulling at her lips. âYou know what I just thought was a great idea.â
With her track record, itâs probably not a good idea.
âYou should hook up with Seokmin.â
It definitely wasnât a good idea. âOkay, now I know youâve lost your mind.â
âYou canât tell me that you havenât thought about it.â
You canât deny that you havenât thought about how your best friend would treat you in the bedroom. You would get lost in your head, thinking about how his arms had gotten toned after his recent workout sessions and how those same arms would hold you down as he made you reach cloud nine. Many would cringe at the mere thought, but with how close you and Seokmin were and how much time you two spent together, people thinking you were at least hooking up wasnât uncommon, your cheeks getting hot any time itâs brought up. His eyes would get wide with that same sweet smile, the red flush on his ears disappearing quickly. Youâd never cross that boundary just to get over a silly boy; your friendship means much more to you than a quickie.
âJust because I mightâve thought about it, doesnât make it something that needs to happen. Iâm not that desperate,â you double down on your stance, grabbing your phone to check the status of your Uber, finding any excuse to escape this conversation. The thin black line stating your driver was more than 5 minutes away, you mentally curse at whoever was upstairs who enjoys watching you suffer at the hands of Yves.
âPlease, have you seen how buff heâs getting! Those arms?â a sly grin blooming on her face, she looks over at you expectantly as if you would agree with her. You do, but youâd never let her know that. Instead of entertaining her antics, you grab your personal bag, ready to leave for the night.
âOkay, youâre done. Letâs go,â you say, pulling Yves from the bed, âthe Uber is almost here.â
Walking through the door of the frat house, the humidity in the air makes your shirt stick to your chest like a second skin. The packed bodies only add to the warmth inside the cramped house, you silently thank Yves for making you take off your cardigan, the couple years of your friendship proving that she knows you better than you think. She hugs your backside, keeping you close as you move through the mass of people, looking for your group of friends.
âDo you know if theyâre here yet?â you hear Yvesâ voice, yelling above the crowd from behind you and almost blending into the music.
You respond, bringing your face close to her ear, âYeah, Seokmin texted me saying they were!â She nods in acknowledgment, eyes scanning the immediate area. Itâs hard to miss a man towering over the crowd, his signature black hair striking against his tan skin making him stand out as he takes a sip from his red solo cup near the kitchen. Two other men stand close to him, donning similar red plastic cups, one with a bright smile that easily lights up the room, shining with the fluorescent blues and purples of the house, and the other boy making his mark with a messy mullet and trademark style that defines his frame. Even if you hadnât recognized the trio as your best friends, you wouldâve instantly taken notice, the boys immediately attracting your attention.Â
âI found them!â you announce to Yves, whoâs still close behind you, clinging to your arm as if her life depended on it. Grabbing her hand, you move through the crowd, not caring whose toes you stepped on or if people didnât hear your âexcuse us!â. It wasnât long before you met with the trio of men, their faces lighting up as soon as they took notice of your presence and Mingyu pulling you in for a suffocating hug.Â
âYou finally made it!â Mingyuâs breath is hot against you as he yells over the noise, still keeping you close even after the hug was long done, his arms tucking you underneath him. His chin decides to rest on your head and naturally finding its place as his arms wrap around your figure. At first glance, people may think that the two of you were an item, but Mingyu was just close with anyone he knew, finding any reason to hug his close friends.Â
âYouâre lucky we made it all, hell, with how many people are here!â
âWe were talking about moving to the backyard once you got here. Did you guys want a drink first?â Minghao is the one to speak up, looking at you and Yves through his bangs, bringing his red solo cup to his lips.Â
A groan breaks through the air, Yves grabbing his hand as she responds, âYes, please. I definitely need it.â
Surprisingly, the kitchen is less crowded than the common areas of the house, bodies not congregating in the area once they make their drinks. You feel instant relief, the air conditioning hitting your skin, even a nice breeze from the back door giving you much needed fresh air. The group makes their way to the kitchen island, an array of liquor, beer, and mixers lining the surface, making the workspace nonexistent. Mingyu works with what he has though, his hands moving with diligence and ease as he acts as the groupâs personal bartender for the night - just like every group gathering before.Â
âHey!â
Turning towards the voice, youâre met with Seokmin, his dark hair falling against his tan skin and a smile so big that the skin near his eyes smile along with him, still sparkling with the bright party lights. Your heart grows warm seeing your best friend, the energy around him bursting with sunshine and love that anyone can feel when they enter his presence. You return his smile and saddle up to his side. Your shoulders touch as the two of you watch Mingyu mix drinks for you and Yves, who joins you and Seokmin, sitting on the kitchen counter next to him.
âI havenât gotten to ask you, how are you doing sinceâŠâ Seokminâs words trail off and you look at him, concern etched in his face.
âSince Jaehyun? Iâm not made of glass, you know. We can talk about him.â
Yves chimes in, âDonât act like you werenât crying about how unloveable you were just two days ago,â her snark ever prevalent in her tone.Â
âAnyways!â you retort, moving your attention back to Seokmin, âIâm fine. It was just a little fling, not a big deal.â
âItâs ok to be sad. You really liked him.â Seokmin flashes you a sincere smile, so pure, so full of light, the party seems to be worth it all from this little interaction. Itâd been a while since you left your cave, only earthing to join the weekly movie night with everyone. Every time you wanted to hide away underneath your sheets, when you wanted your world to be blackness, when you wanted the world to swallow you whole, Seokmin was always there, the light at the end of your tunnel, pulling you out.Â
âWell, weâre not being sad tonight,â Mingyu interrupts your daze, handing you a miniature plastic cup, the same shot-sized reusable cups that were on the counter for reckless decisions like this one. âWeâre here to forget about Jaehyun and enjoy our friends. Ones we know wonât leave us high and dry.â He holds his cup up to the ceiling, everyone following suit. âTo our friendship!â
The clear liquid burns in your throat and you can feel it travel down your body, a chill tingling up your spine. Your nights that usually start with vodka shots donât end too well, you think.
Cheers to you finding out what this night has in store.
A breeze wafts into the air, tripping you up and the ball you just threw blowing away with it.
âThatâs not fair! The wind affected the throw!â
âDoesnât matter! We discussed the rules before we started!â
A pout forming on your face, you stand back, giving Seokmin room for his turn. He turns to you, giving you a small pat on your lower back, muttering a soft âitâs okayâ before his concentration is back on the five red cups laid in front of him on the table. His eyes are focused, his face still as he brings his hand up to aim, lining up his shot. The air was silent, the group paying close attention to his actions, watching him take his shot. The world seems to stop as he lets go of the plastic ball, everyone quiet until it reaches the rim of a plastic cup, toying with your emotions until it finally dips into the cup with a resounding plop.
You scream and wrap your arms around Seokmin, giddy with excitement as giggles fill the air. You donât even care that there were still 3 cups to a victory and neither did Seokmin as he lifted you in the air, making your world dizzy. He held you tight, keeping you tucked into him even after he set your two feet back on the ground, his arms hugging you and taking place on your shoulders.
âI donât know why Y/N is celebrating, theyâve missed every one of their shots!â Mingyu taunts, clearly trying to get under your skin.Â
Before you can respond, Seokmin speaks up, âHey! Weâre closer to winning than you! And thatâs bold coming from you when Yves is clearly carrying your team.â
Mingyu gets quiet at that, Yves not even able to defend her teammate, just turns to him with a sympathetic pat on his arm before lining up to take her shot. Minghao, whoâs leaning comfortably on the back wall of the house, chuckles, only staying quiet once Mingyu shoots him a death glare.
Looking up at Seokmin, you pout with a small whisper, âAm I that bad?â
âWhat? No! Also, who cares? Itâs just beer pong.â He leaves the comfort of your touch to grab the ping pong balls from the grass, both missed by Yves and Mingyu.Â
âI care! For my ego.â You know heâs trying to make you feel better, trying to make sure you donât take Mingyuâs competitive nature to heart like you tend to do. It is just beer pong. But the phrase âThe more you drink, the better you are at beer pongâ has exceptions and you may be one of them, the alcohol coursing through your system not helping whatsoever.
A playful smirk appears on Seokminâs face as he says, âWould it hurt your ego if I helped you out with your form?â
You look at Seokmin through your lashes, your pout turning into a coy smile and a flirtatious lilt coming out of your tone. âNo, I donât think so.â
When Seokmin hands you the ping pong ball, he takes position behind you, lifting your hand with his, the other holding to your waist tightly. His breath was hot against your face, his voice soft and nurturing, tickling your ears, âYou want to keep your wrist loose and have it high to start. Itâs easier to aim from high above.â
It could be the alcohol talking, but having Seokmin this close, this intimate, had you thinking that maybe it wouldnât be such a bad idea to have him tangled in your sheets. The same caramel voice that was coaching you through your terrible beer pong skills, the same voice that calls you late at night to make sure youâve made it home safely, that same voice would be coaxing you to your high, having you come apart from his words alone.
Itâs definitely just the alcohol talking, you think. You hope thatâs the case, anyway.
âOnce you get an aim, youâll want to let go and follow through with your throw.â Seokmin leads you in the motion he described, still keeping you close. With your confidence now elevated, the air still, and everyone quietly watching, you let go of the ball and follow its arc as it sinks into a center cup.
Pride lights your smile aglow, your first instinct to reach Seokmin for a hug in a small celebration. His grip on you is tight as he hugs you back, his eyes showering you with admiration.Â
âI knew you could do it.â
âI only made that shot because of you.â
You glance over at the other side of the table. With a knowing smirk on Yvesâ face, she keeps her eyesight towards the ground, preparing for her next turn.Â
You wonât be hearing the end of it from her.
You lean against the folding chair youâve taken refuge in, a sweet breeze coming in, slightly lifting the jacket thatâs draped across your shoulders. Smoke from the small fire in front of you makes your eyes sting, tears filling the corners. Bringing the cup you have to your lips, a clear line of separation from the ice that has melted and the alcoholic coke visible, you shudder at the taste and hand the cup back to Mingyu. âThis party is kinda boring.â
âOh, is beating us at beer pong not enough fun for you?â
âYouâre starting to sound like a sore loser, Gyu,â Minghao chimes in, nursing his own screwdriver next to you. He keeps his puff jacket unzipped, letting the heat from the fire warm him up from the chill of the night air.Â
âSo what if I am? Yves didnât do all that work for nothing.â
âSpeaking of Yves, where is she?â You never saw her slip away from the group, the atmosphere missing her snark and light attitude, but youâre only met with shrugs from the two men in front of you.Â
âShe mentioned meeting with ViVi, donât know if she ever found her.â The voice comes from behind you with a hand meeting your shoulder, the touch not unwelcomed, recognizing it to be Seokmin. âIâm assuming she has because sheâs been gone for awhile.â
Just as Seokmin rejoins the group, a fresh drink in hand, your phone buzzes on your lap with the screen illuminating your face, looking at the text.
yves: leaving with vivi, donât wait up <3
yves: also, donât think we wonât be talking about seokmin laterÂ
yves: đ
yn: we wonât be talking about him bcs nothing is nor will happen
yves: keep telling yourself that
You tune yourself out of your conversation with Yves, exhausted from the few text messages and her persistence. Turning your attention back to the group, leaning your head against Seokminâs arm. âYves just texted me. She left with ViVi.â
âOf course she did. Iâm surprised it took her this long to make a move,â Minghao comments. The fire was now burning stronger, embers flying through the space only to land softly on the concrete. âHow long has she been talking to her, anyway?â
âAbout 3 months now,â Mingyu answers.
âDamn⊠She must really like her.â
âYeah, she never waits that long if itâs just a hookup. Even if I wanted to take someone out, I donât think Iâd wait that long.â
Minghao's eyes flicker to Seokmin, something on the edge of understanding and comfort, almost like he was sympathizing with him. Something you might have noticed if you werenât resting on Seokminâs hips, eyes closed as he rubs small circles on your shoulder. Something you would ask Seokmin about if you had seen. The look leaves as quickly as it came, Minghaoâs face leans downcast, lips pursed as if he was holding his thoughts in.
Seokminâs face leans close to your ear, soft and inviting as he speaks, âYou getting tired?â
âNot really. Just bored,â sighing, you look up at Seokmin, meeting his eyes. âKind of want to go home.â
âLet me take you back, make sure you get home safe. Iâll get us an Uber.â
âYou just got your drink! I donât want to end your night early.â You give Seokmin a gentle smile, a small appreciative gesture at his care. He was always taking care of you, always by your side, always giving himself to you. You wanted him to enjoy his night not worrying about you, at the very least.
Suddenly, Seokmin is walking to Mingyu, handing his cup over to the man sitting on the concrete, engulfed in conversation with Minghao. He announces his departure, telling the boys to make sure to get to their shared apartment safely and let him know when they do. Then, heâs walking back to you, grabbing your hand with such kindness, such care, before heâs looking at you expectantly.Â
âLetâs go.â
Your keys clinking fill the dead space as you enter your apartment, making sure to hold the door open, inviting Seokmin to follow you. Heâs been here many times, whether it was alone or with your group of friends. The apartments shared between the seven of you had an open-door policy, welcoming heartbreaks, laughs, boredom, and overall debauchery with wide arms and open cabinets. Seokmin didnât ask any questions when he walked into your apartment last week and saw you left alone in the darkness, nursing a bowl of your comfort instant ramen, your body hidden underneath an oversized blanket. You didnât ask any questions when he joined you in your reality tv show marathon, grabbing a blanket from your ottoman, letting the fabric swallow him whole when he settled on your couch. Neither of you said anything, sitting in a comfortable silence, your brains turned off from the stress of the week.
He knew he didnât need to ask anything; he knew you would come to him eventually, when you were ready.Â
He secretly hoped your heart would do the same.
âDid you want a drink?â your voice brings Seokmin back to reality. You were at your fridge, pulling out transparent green glass bottles. âI know you didn't get to finish yours earlier.âÂ
âI thought you were tired,â Seokmin ignores the question, instead looking at you incredulously.
After you open the bottles, you bring the cold bubbly liquid to your lips, walking across your kitchen island to bring Seokmin the other. âI said I was bored, not tired. There was nothing to do, just a lot of loud drunk kids.â
âThatâs most frat parties, you know.â
âYeah. I donât know why I keep letting Yves drag me to them,â you sigh, staring past Seokmin but not focusing on anything in particular.Â
âHow about we play a game or something? Never have I ever?â
âYou already know most everything about me! What fun would that be?â
âI bet thereâs some things I donât know about you!â While you and Seokmin had known each other since freshman year, spending most of your time together, you kept yourself guarded. Only letting Seokmin in when you were comfortable, prepared for the onslaught of judgment - which never came. Seokmin had been nothing but understanding, a warm breeze in an otherwise cold world. âHow about we play 20 questions?â
You purse your lips, letting the beer bottle settle on your countertop as you think over Seokminâs proposition. âFine.â
âWhat was your first impression of me?â
You giggle to yourself, settling on your rug in the living room, thinking back to when you first met Seokmin during freshman orientation. Your knees touch his, bumping into each other as you reminisce. âWhat was my first impression of the goofball who followed me around like a lost puppy?â
Seokmin laughs, lighting up the room, making happiness bubble to the surface of your skin. You join in his laughter as he says, âHey! Two lost people is better than one! Would you have not wanted me to follow you around because look at us now!â
âYouâre right. Who knew that little goofball would end up being one of the best people in my life?â
âRemember during the social, Mingyu busted his ass trying to show up Minghao at b-boying?â
âYeah and we had to help him nurse his ego in the dorm hallway?â
You and Seokmin had been inseparable that weekend, from his first awkward âDo you know where the Admin building is?â to your last âI guess Iâll be seeing you around campusâ, you two finding your way back to each other come the first semester. With you two living in adjacent dorm buildings, it was easy to catch up for lunch, walk each other to class and meet in the communal study rooms. Mingyu happened to live in the same building as Seokmin and Jinsoul was your freshman year roommate. Soon, your group during the lunch break grew to include Haseul, Minghao, and Yves and solidified during sophomore year. They all held a special place in your heart, but none like Seokmin and they all knew it. Life was easier with Seokmin; midterms never seemed as difficult with his guiding light, heartbreaks never felt as lonely with his warmth and bad decisions never were so irreversible with his love.
Seokmin was and will always be your home â your light at the end of the tunnel.Â
The laughter between you two dies down, an easy silence falling in the air. It isnât until you calm down that you ask the next question, âOkay my turn.â You bring a serious expression to your face, shifting the tone from the previous lighthearted atmosphere. âIs it better to love & lose or never love at all?â
âOh, youâre getting philosophical on me now?â
âNo better time than at 1 am on a Friday night, tipsy with my best friend.â
You see Seokmin slightly wince, something that happens in a blink of an eye before itâs replaced with a pensive expression, his lips jutting out in thought. You donât have time to point it out before heâs answering, âIsnât it better to love & lose? I mean, whatâs a world without love?â You think on his words, albeit too long as he voices, âWhy? Do you feel different?â
âPersonally⊠yeah,â you mutter. You speak a little louder, confiding to Seokmin, âIt might be everything that happened with Jaehyun but I canât see how I can be thankful for giving him my love.âÂ
âYou⊠loved him?â Seokmin murmurs quietly, unable to mask his surprise.Â
âNot exactly, but is it embarrassing how fast I fell for him?â
NoâŠâ Seokmin trails off, his lips in a thin line, almost like heâs trying to keep himself from saying something he wants to. Itâs faint, but you notice.
âWhat do you want to say?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYouâre hiding something.â
âNo Iâm not,â he repeats, adamant.Â
âYes you are!â you smile before continuing, âCâmon, just tell me!â You begin to poke Seokminâs side, a prominent offensive move in your arsenal. Seokmin giggles, trying to move away from the stimulation of your jabs, but is unsuccessful as you reach over and begin your attacks on his left side.
âY/N stop!â His demand comes out broken as he tries to catch his breath, unable to break his fits of laughter.
âNot until you tell me what youâre hiding!â
Your assault continues, your giggles getting louder, probably annoying your neighbors. Neither of you are able to catch your breath, until Seokmin suddenly grabs hold of your wrists, bringing your back to the cushion of your rug, effectively pinning you to the ground.
Your laughter dies, the room becoming dead silent, only your ragged breaths filling the air. Your chest is heaving, your lungs trying to catch the precious air around you. With Seokmin straddling your waist, it isnât until your breathing finally slows do you realize that his face is inches away from yours. His breath is audible, face red from the commotion.Â
Youâve never really looked at Seokmin this close, his mole standing out on his cheek. You notice every pore, every freckle and every line, all of it accumulating into the beauty of his face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you. The tension is unmistakably palpable, making your skin hot underneath his touch. You glance down at his lips, the curves and various shades of pink accentuating against his tan skin.
Before you can think much about it, youâre suddenly kissing him.Â
And just as quick, heâs pulling away from you, eyes wide. He looks at you as if you might break, like fragile glass ready to crack at any moment.Â
âAre you sure you want this?â Seokmin is sincere, voice woven with care, loosening your own heart strings. âI donât want you to do something youâre going to regret in the morning,â he whispers, speaking softly, trying not to overstep his boundaries. His thought to put you first was the last undoing of the tangled mess of woven string in your heart, unraveled and exposing yourself to him.Â
âIâm sure, Seokmin. I want you.â
You donât get to finish your sentence before Seokminâs lips are back on yours, swallowing your last breath.
His lips are softer than you imagine and taste of mint and whiskey, combining to create something that was uniquely Seokmin. The hairs stand up along your body, your senses being invigorated by Seokminâs attention to your lips. Shivers run down your body from his kisses alone and once he starts trailing along your jaw and neck, your skin lights fire, igniting the burning desire within you.Â
His hands leave your wrists, bringing them to your torso, keeping you close against him as your hands immediately cling to his neck, breathing heavily. He runs small circles along your skin, making you go dizzy.
Panting, you manage to whisper through your short breaths, âShould we take this somewhere that, you know, isnât my living room floor?â
Seokmin keeps his attention on your neck as he responds between kisses, âI donât know. I was ready to take you right here.â
âDo you want me to blow my back out?â
âOh, youâll be getting your back blown out no matter where you are.. so itâs really up to you.â You can feel him smile against your neck with a small nip. You moan at his words, his confidence making you quiver. This kind of arrogance isnât something youâre used to seeing on Seokmin, but you canât deny that it looks good on him, easily molding you like clay under his fingers.Â
You play it cool, though, or you hope, at least. âIâd rather not have sex with you on my living room rug.â
âFair enough.â
SMUT WARNING !
As soon as you shut the door, Seokmin finds his hands all over you, bringing you back to his mouth. One of his hands lands on your waist, kneading at your skin underneath your crop top, slightly lifting the fabric. He held on tight, not wanting to let you go, afraid of you disappearing from his grasp. He canât help but think this is all a dream â his ears ringing with your whines, his fingers grazing your goosebumps, it was everything heâd fantasized about.Â
âSeokminâŠâ Your voice sounds sweet in his ears, blissful, a desire dripping from it that heâs never heard from you before.Â
âWhat is it?â
Your breath on him is hot, heavy against his skin. âCan we hurry this up because I need you,â you sigh, a small teasing smile playing against your lips. Your hands were grabbing at his clothes desperately, the tug and pull making Seokminâs head spin. He lets out an airy chuckle, pulling you closer.
Seokmin leads you to your bed, your back hitting the mattress as he runs his hands along your thighs, still leaving kisses along your neck. He trails along the length of your body, down your neck, your clothed chest, your stomach, leaving languid kisses. He was in no rush, wanting this night to last as long as possible, even if it was already two in the morning. He could have you underneath him for hours, your hands pulling at the strands on his head.
He reaches the bottom of your shirt, playing with the hem, leaving open mouthed kisses along your stomach. âCan I?â He asks, referring to your crop as he looks at you, eyes meeting yours. He didnât want to do anything out of comfort zone, feeling lucky enough to be in this position. As much as the flirty banter made both of your positions clear, he wanted to give you any opportunity to back out if you were ever uncomfortable with crossing the imaginary boundary of your friendship.Â
You nod and slowly, Seokmin begins to lift your top, revealing your torso. It took everything in him to not confess to you right then and there, the alcohol flowing in his system removing the filter in his mind. He wanted to kiss you all over, sing sweet praises, tell you how much heâd always wanted this and more, how heâs been in love with you since that freshman orientation weekend â everything thatâs been on his mind these past two years.
But he settles with a âGod, youâre so beautiful,â hoping that youâd recognize the whiskey lacing his words instead of the yearning.
âWhy are you acting so surprised? Youâve seen me in a bikini before!â
He has seen you in a bikini and Seokmin had to take a cold shower when he rinsed the chlorine off of his body for the day, hoping you hadnât noticed his lingering eyes.
âCanât a guy just compliment his best friendâs naked body before he fucks them?â
Heâs also hoping that you donât notice how hard it was for him to say that, disguising his wince with a teasing smile.
You begin to unbutton your jean shorts, your hands dancing around the waistband of the material. âAre you actually going to fuck me or are you just going to talk about it?â
Oh, you were going to be the death of him. He fears that you know that.
âI shouldâve known you were going to be a brat,â Seokmin mutters, still loud enough for you to hear as he pulls down your shorts down your legs. Heâs met with a visible wet patch on your black underwear, which almost takes him out right at that moment. The damp fabric is stuck to your cunt, like a second skin. âFuck.â
âWhat?â
âYouâre so wet,â Seokmin responds, getting closer to the gap between your legs, blowing puffs of air from his words, making you shake from the stimulation.Â
âIs that a bad thing?â He can hear the insecurity in your voice, the confidence from earlier breaking with you slowly pulling your legs together. Seokmin counteracts this action, bringing your legs apart and opening yourself up to him once again. He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh and he feels the tension release from your body, welcoming his touch.
He looks up at you earnestly. âOf course not. Itâs hot.â He toys with your panties, waiting for your approval to continue.
âYou can take them off, Seokmin.â
That was all Seokmin needed, peeling your underwear off.Â
Seokmin thinks heâs died and gone to heaven. Seeing you bare, spread open for him and only him, was something heâd never believed would happen to him in this lifetime. Heâs awestruck at your beauty, only able to respond by kissing your thighs repeatedly, your moans only encouraging him.Â
He lowers himself close to your pussy and licks a slow, long stroke along your bud. You grab at his head instantly, a whine coming out of you. He circles your folds, teasingly slow, savoring every moment he has between your legs. You taste sweet, more enticing than any of Seokminâs dreams. His hands took purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him when youâd steer away. Your arousal builds and heâs quick to flit his tongue against your clit.
âFuck! Have you always been good at this?â you choke out, the question coming out broken and breathy, a moan following.
Seokmin smiles against you, laughing quietly, the vibrations tickling against his lips. His pride was swelling, hearing you, the person heâs been in love with for two years now, cry for him. The feeling is making him insatiable, the desire to make you cum overriding any other thought in his mind. Your fingers that were in his hair started to pull harder, fervid as the pleasure overtook you.Â
The ache in between his legs, his dick squeezing in between the fabric of his jeans, started to become excruciating. Seokmin slowly grinds against the mattress, searching for any relief for his own hard-on. It proves to be useless, his arousal moving three steps forward and one step back each time you moan his name. His face was covered in you as you jerk against him, riding out the sensations.
He ghosts his fingers to your entrance, hovering over it, teasing you with the prospect of having them inside of you. He keeps his fingers where they are until you wail, begging for them.
âSeokmin, stop teasingâŠâ your voice trails, punctuated with a gasp, from Seokmin slipping his fingers inside of you.
He didnât need any lubrication, you were dripping enough for him. The sounds that were coming out of your cunt were lewd and it only turned Seokmin on more, blood rushing to his cock and the strain against his jeans becoming even more unbearable to ignore. He can feel you clenching around his fingers; he knows youâre close. Once he reaches the bumpy surface of your g-spot, your muscles tense even more and your breath hitches, your legs squeezing Seokmin.
âLet go for me,â he whispers with a kiss to your clit. A second later, youâre coming undone, back arching off of the mattress. Your walls pulse against his fingers, making his cock twitch. His eyes were transfixed on your figure, watching you fall apart because of him. You were beautiful, this he always knew to be true, but the image of you tensing around him and cumming against his fingers would be engraved in his mind for the rest of his life.Â
You begin to come down from your high, Seokmin kissing your inner thigh, eyes shining with awe as he continues to slowly pump in and out of you. You look down at him, relaxing your hands that were once gripping his hair with superhuman strength. He didnât mind, though. He never minded anything when it came to you, especially since he knew that he was the reason for the overwhelming pleasure.
âOh my god⊠Seriously, where did you learn to eat pussy like that?â you breathe out, still trying to catch your breath.Â
âI donât know,â Seokmin chuckles as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. âI guess Iâm just a natural.â
You sit up, reaching for Seokminâs chin as you bring his lips to yours, taking his breath away. He's completely intoxicated by you, the alcohol wearing off and being replaced by your allure. It still amazes him how you have him trapped under your spell, wrapped around your finger â and you donât even know it. Seokmin is so lost in your kiss, he doesnât realize that heâs now on his back with you straddling him, your hands fumbling with his zipper.
âLet me take care of you,â you coo, your lips still close to his, brushing against them softly.
It pains Seokmin, the thought of your mouth around his length, his body shivers with the image in his mind. âIâm going to be honest, while Iâd love to have you sucking me off, Iâd cum in 30 seconds,â he confesses. âI need to be inside of you. Now.â You smile so bright, so enchanting, Seokmin is already seeing stars when you kiss him again, only breaking the kiss to take off his pants and underwear and he removes his shirt.
âDo you have a condom?â he asks, lingering on your body as you remove your bra.
âThereâs one inside my nightstand.â
Once Seokmin rolls the condom down his length, your body hovering over him, he finally realizes that this is actually happening. This might not be the way he thought it would ever happen, but he doesnât have much time to think about it before youâre sinking down on him, enveloping his cock in your heat with a curse.Â
You pause, eyes screwed shut as you mentally curse. Tears threaten to fall, pooling to the side of your eyes. Seokmin sees this and panics, immediately sitting up, rubbing soft circles on your cheek. âHey, hey, are you okay? Whatâs wrong?â He speaks softly, comforting, afraid that you would crack.
You shake your head, finally opening your eyes to look at him. âItâs nothing, itâs justâŠâÂ
âJust what?â
âI just had to adjust. YouâreâŠâ you pause, thinking carefully on your words, âmuch bigger than I anticipated.â
Seokmin canât help but feel smug. He can feel you clenching around him, squeezing the life out of his cock. He canât hide his smirk, but heâs quick to give you a tender kiss, feeling you relax on top of him. âJust relax. You set the pace,â he soothes and you nod in response.
He stays sitting up as you slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap and Seokmin is already seeing stars, holding back moans. You start slow and easy, setting a rhythmic pace, building pleasure and you lean your head on his shoulder. âFuck, Seokmin.â
âWhat is it, baby?â The pet name slips out before Seokmin can catch it. He mentally curses, hoping you donât notice. It tastes sweet on his tongue, like it was meant to come out of his mouth.Â
âYou feel so good,â you moan, punctuating the statement with a clamp on his cock.
âI can say the same for you.â It was embarrassing how close Seokmin already was, completely drunk on you. Every squeeze, every whine brought him closer to his dissolve; it took every ounce of Seokminâs self-control to not let go right there. It took everything in him to not confess, tell you that this was everything heâd ever dreamt of, that he was helplessly and completely in love with you. Seeing you drunk on him, on his cock, was shattering all of his resolve.
âSeokmin, Iâm so close,â you whine.
Thank God, Seokmin thinks. His hands that were on your waist guide you, bouncing you up and down on his cock, helping you reach your high. âCâmon, baby, you can do it.â Fuck, Iâve got to stop saying thatâŠÂ
He feels your nails dig into him, creating crescent moons and threatening to break skin as the tension that was building in your body starts to snap, an overwhelming amount of electricity coursing through your veins. Seokminâs willpower is left on a thread, feeling your velvet walls tense around his cock, heâs close to his own climax. Once heâs looking at you, seeing your pleasure wash over you, your eyebrows furrowed and a symphony of moans releasing from your mouth, heâs done for. His orgasm crashes against him and he grips your waist tightly, keeping your body at a steady pace as he empties inside of you.Â
You're both left panting, bodies spent and going still. All thatâs left in the air is your breath and the humidity as you both come down from your highs. Seokmin doesnât know what comes over him, but the overwhelming need to kiss you takes over his body. He doesnât think, just reaches up and pulls you to his lips, kissing you passionately until his thoughts come back to him.
Well, where do we go from here?
#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seokmin x reader#dk x reader#seokmin smut#dk smut#dokyeom x reader#dokyeom smut#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#svt smut#svt scenarios
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Yamamoto who never got a way to release more of his pent up energy, or an outlet for his simmering devotion, probably would have gone straight into genuine yandere territory, rather than a sleeping one who only wakes up in very specific circumstances
Tsuna will always find a way to tame something dangerous and it's not always good for him. In that particular instance, Yamamoto would be that something, though usually itâs Mukuro, who luckily is made much softer and easier to handle through his care for Chrome teaching him delicacy. Still, heâs very flashy, like a poisonous creature, so keeping his distance until Mukuro is manageable is much easier for Tsuna.
Yamamoto isn't a flashy person, though. Heâs a spur of the moment guy who can unintentionally do flashy things because he doesn't think about the consequences.
If Reborn didn't scout him... It would probably be something as simple, mundane by comparison of what Tsuna has been put through, as taking his bat and cracking it, hard, against someone's head, with the same amount of force he'd use for anything else with it.
Because he got fed up.
"Tsuna, right? You okay?"
And he's smiling, offering his hand, like he didn't just cave another boy's skull in with a single hit. An older boy, sure, but still just a boy who had been picking on Tsuna.
"My house is around here. Dad can patch you up; you're bleeding!"
Tsuna's hand trembles and he tries not to look and his voice is stuck in his throat. Save him, save him, somebody... Reborn, where are you? Gokudera, Bianchi, somebody...
Yamamoto pulls him up. "Sorry. I just. Couldn't take it anymore. Even the new transfer has been harassing you and you were alone and I kind of... Snapped?" Like it's just something normal. Something to be apologetic and sheepish about, but not horrified.
Tsuna can't even make his voice work enough to clear up the misunderstanding about Gokudera. The hand holding his is rough and a little cool to the touch.
"I'm sorry. I should have done something sooner. You're alright now, though!"
No. He's really not.
A few days pass. A local high school boy is missing, and Yamamoto Takeshi swings an arm around no good Tsunaâs shoulder like it belongs there while the baseball club manager scratches his head and counts the bats yet again. One is missing.
The body is never found.
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I made this for an art fight ref and then realised it's against the TOS and way too large of a file size. The art fight website is very very restrictive on what you can post on there. It would be great if we could have a tumblr version of it with less rules. Like 'just go ham drawing other people's OC's for a month.' I feel art fight has far too many rules to follow too be fun for me.
What rule does this violate one may ask?
Pin up poses. Apparently they count as sexulised content which is wild.
Anyway, it's still a cool reference sheet for him.
#artists on tumblr#artwork#digital art#illustration#oc art#art#my art#the model bleeding chrome#bleeding chrome#digital arwork#drawing#ref sheet#artfight#steampunk#steampunk art#pin up art#pin ups#my draws#oc artist#my ocs#original character#ocs
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Hereâs another half-formed dreamling fic with them stuck in a snow storm while flurries currently whistle past my windows (and cover my screens in white).
Dream, sitting on the floor of his kitchen, surrounded by candles because the power is out, and sipping a glass of red wine. Heâs bundled in a blanket and desperately failing to conserve battery on his phone, by texting Hob, whoâs also lost power.
Dream slouches back against his oven, of which the burners are on to give off some blessed heat (thank God his oven is gas), while he reads the latest message from Hob, lamenting how bleeding cold it is in his own apartment, a newly renovated chrome building on the edge of the city, where everything, including the heat, was electric.
Dream mourns for him, even though Hob makes light of the situation with his witty texts and flirtatious hints of how Dream could warm him up.
Theyâd only been on a handful of dates, not yet fallen into bed together⊠Dream awkwardly explaining to Hob that it took a while, if at all, for sexual attraction to form within a new relationship. Hob had, surprisingly, taken it in stride. Becoming patient and thoughtful, always communicating, and never pushing Dreamâs limits.Â
It was refreshing, andâ to Dreamâs complete surpriseâ heâd found himself falling hard for the other man. Who knew a simple acknowledgment to boundaries would get him so wound up? His pulse quickened with every smile Hob gave him, his stomach tying itself in knots whenever Hob would take his hand, and his brain completely shutting off when Hob would kiss him. Chaste things that had progressively turned more and more heated with every encounter. Promising something more and more each time they met.
Currently, the sounds of his windows rattling from the flurries outside fill his dark apartment, along with the flutter of the open flames on his stove, and the quiet drip, drip, drip of the kitchen tap (to prevent frozen pipes, Dream had learned that lesson the hard way last winter).
After about an hour of texting Hob, Dream nearly halfway done with the bottle of wine, he receives a text that makes his heart jump.
So, what if i told you im actually outside your building?
Dream stood up so suddenly the candles around him nearly snuffed themselves out.
He yanked on his boots and pulled on his oversized winter coat, stumbling to his front door and marching down the stairs of the apartment complex he resided in, the age of which you could smell in its walls, see in the cracks and warps in the wooden floors. He made it down to the entrance and pulled open the door, the ice cold wind smacking Dream in the face immediately.
But then he saw a smudge of brown in the whiteness approaching. Dream kicked down the snow that had piled up at the door and waded forward in knee deep snow to meet Hob halfway and help him past the threshold.
Once the door slammed shut behind them, Dream took a proper look at Hob.
âYou look like the abominable snowman.â
Hob laughed. He was absolutely covered in snow, piled high on his shoulders, his boots, even on his eyelashes.
âI feel like one.â Hob said, his voice cracked and breathless.
Once theyâre back inside Dreamâs apartment, and Hobâs outer layers have been stripped off and hung in the shower to drip dry, Dream sets off to boil water on the stove top for tea.
They sit on Dreamâs couch, sharing a blanket and sipping tea while Dream admonishes Hob for coming out in the middle of a storm. What was he thinking?? To which Hob just shrugs and curls his nearly numb fingers around the hot mug, snuggling even further into Dreamâs side and sighing.
âWorth it, to see you.â
âYouâre insane,â Dream says, but smiles through it.Â
Hobâs skin glows with the orange and yellow flickering of the candles, his features softening and barely noticeable in the limited light. But Dream knows them by now. Knows the curve of Hobâs thick, dark eyebrows, down to the scruff of his jaw, and back up to the prominent shape of his nose. Heâs always handsome, but right now, shadowed in soft light and his cheeks still pink from the cold, heâs lovely. And Dream canât help but set his mug down, taking Hobâs as well, and kissing him.
His lips arm warm from the tea, and he tastes of lavender and honey, and it makes Dream want. Want to climb onto Hobâs lap and crawl inside him. Make a nest for himselfâ warm and safe and cared for under Hobâs breast bone. There he could listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart, how it thunders now, under Dreamâs hand as he caresses down Hobâs sweater and gets teasing fingers under the hem, touching the soft flesh of his hips and stomach.
Hob moans into his mouth, making Dreamâs skull vibrate and he nearly gives in, something dark and unknown swirling in his lower belly that drives his fingers to press harder, feel the texture of Hobâs skin, the smattering of hairs at his stomach, but he forces himself to slow down, to take it easy, to enjoy and luxuriate in what they have now.Â
Hob, miraculously, follows along. His own hands cupping each side of Dreamâs head and only getting his fingers in his hair, matching Dreamâs pace, kissing back with no intention of more unless Dream initiated. Moving his mouth at Dreamâs pace, breaking apart and nudging his nose and lips under his jaw and nuzzling behind Dreamâs ear and making him shudder pleasantly.
âDream, DreamâŠâ Hob mumbles, seemingly content in just kissing, just holding one another. âI could do this for hours.â
Dream grips the hem of Hobâs sweater, holding tightly as to prevent himself from ripping it off Hob. Another time, very soon, he knows. Dream has every intention to give into the temptation that is Hob Gadling, but the waiting is so much more fun. The anticipation, the slow understanding of his own feelings brimming up to the surface, will be that much more satisfying when heâs certain Hob will reciprocate them.
Hob just might love him back, right now. But Dream waits. Though, he does allow himself a confession:
âI could do this forever.â
#and then they roasted marshmallows on the stove#and snuggled in bed and it was perfect#dreamling#hob x dream#ace/demisexual Dream#it's cold as balls here and oh how i wish for a Hob Gadling of my own#my writing
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Shadowgast Fics with Rescues!
This week, we have seven fic that deal with rescues! Sometimes rescuing Caleb, sometimes rescuing Essek, and sometimes rescuing cats (or others). Check them out beneath the cut, and comment or kudos if you like them!
only code it knows is rote survival by Chrome (13115, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Feeblemind
The nein rescue Essek from Trent, only to find him feebleminded.
Reccer says: Classic hurt/comfort, with feebleminded Essek showing feelings he would normally repress away
Die Errettung by Luckyowlsfoot (1176, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes
Power Word: Pain in a dungeon, and Essek knows he can't trust what he sees.
Reccer says: Such good hurt!
Lay your Bones by LadyOrpheus (53587, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes
Verin leads the arrest of Essek, not realising he has a child. He is quickly won over by her and the nein to free his brother
Reccer says: Such a sweet fic in every aspect!
OPERATION: HOT BOI LIBERATION (or: How I Spent My Spring Break in Rexxentrum, by Verin of Den Thelyss) by Catgirlthecrazy (6404, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None
Verin is sure he needs to rescue his brother from the empire wizard that must have kidnapped and mind controlled him.
Reccer says: Funny and very sweet
Bleeding Out For You by Xhorhasian_Beacon (3853, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None
Adeen kidnaps Caleb in an attempt to find out where Essek is. Meanwhile, Essek, Astrid, and Eadwulf are looking for Caleb and whoever took him.
Reccer says: I liked it!
Traveling Elf AMBUSHED by WILD BEASTS by Professor_Rye (2709, General) Reccer's Content Notes: None
Essek tries to rescue one kitten on the side of the road. Little does he know
Reccer says: Tooth rottingly sweet and adorable
Torpor by Inanerial (3713, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None
Essek gets poisoned, luckily Jester sends at an opportune moment and Caleb has a 'lil bit of poison experience.
Reccer says: Classic whump and hurt/comfort.
Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, weâll be back with fics featuring depictions of chronic pain!
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Tumblr is always talking about being broke and user accounts keep disappearing, Twitter is collapsing under the world's silliest rebrand, Meta (owners of Facebook, Instagram, and more) are bleeding money over a failed attempt to pivot to VR, Amazon (owners of Amazon Prime Video, Twitch.tv, and more) have a union now and Google (owner of Youtube, Gmail, the Chrome browser and more) was recently ruled as a monopoly. Social media and internet culture is reaching the end of an era.
If that has you worrying about how you'll keep in touch with your loved ones and fans, if you're thinking about making your own site, if you want a place to speak privately without worrying what advertisers and governments think: PierMesh is for you
@utopicwork is making the tools for a new Web Mesh Network, where data is sent over the radio instead of through the tubes. PierMesh is a vision of a new internet by and for the people. Practical design and huge number of innovative software inventions allow this new network to be environmentally friendly, operated only on affordable hardware, free to use, and available equally no matter what kind of area you're in.
She's just one trans woman. Disabled, unemployed and pouring all of the energy she has into working hard every day on this. We can't coast by on good vibes and fumes forever: please take a look, tell your friends and help if you can
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TITLE: Perfect Drug CHAPTER ONE: Jawbreaker WORD COUNT: 4,309 PAIRING: Dagger/Dum Dum CW: Light violence, gore mention The story of how two fucked up guys become one fucked up couple.
The sky changed colors in the city. The endless scroll of neon gave it an artificial glow, and from the first moment he crossed the desert line, Dagger had resented it. Nothing looked real. Nothing wasânot the food, the music. Certainly not the people. He found himself looking up as he drove further into itâs clutches, searching for a sliver of sky that felt familiar, but the only thing he found was a thinly veiled layer of bullshit. Northside was different, though no less oppressive. The smokestacks kept the air murky, and no matter how many times he blinked or re-calibrated his optics, he couldnât quite clear his vision of the red haze that defined it. But unlike Night City, it took pride in itâs own ugly. And he liked that.Â
The All Foods factory sat like an icon at the center of it all, more mythical to the locals than even the crumbs of Arasaka littering the district. Dagger stood outside with a cigarette, gazing into itâs shuttered maw.Â
A week had passed since he found his way to the building for the first time, toting a severed head in one hand, and a duffel of recovered Militech cargo in the other. He had taken both from a smoldering warzone in Sierra Sonorra where two behemoths fought their last battle; a cadre of Maelstrom gangoons and a unit of corpo dogs. He could have taken the wreckage back for the Wraiths. The gear would have fetched a pretty enny, and the head of a Milietech sergeant would make a lovely hood ornamented for his Quadraâbut Dagger never cared for money, and he had plenty of heads already.Â
He brought the cargo home to Northside instead, head in hand like a peace offering, still bleeding fresh after decapitation. He wanted a deal, not a payday. Something worth more than a shiny new car, or a pair of genuine leather boots, and after one long blurry fucking night, he got one. Â
The Wraiths would protect Maelstromâs interests in the Badlands and the âborgs would give them leverage in the city, pushing to wipe Sixth Street from Santo Domingo. Dagger would move between them, lending his skills to one while extending his power in the other.
In the end, he'd puppet them both.
His mama always said to dream big.
He pressed at a dwindling bruise over his ribcage as he double checked for his smokes in his jacket pocket. Each breath came with a dull ache that hadnât quite quelled from that night, even a week later. Heâd paid his price for admission. He could still feel the wreckage in his bones as he stood at the entrance of the garage, cigarette half smoked already, waiting for an answer at the door. The security camera at the edge of the roof peered down at him, itâs blinking red light a mimic of the trademark optics that were watching him from inside. And they were watching him. Making him wait, though they were the very ones who had set the meet. When he glared up at the lens, he could feel them on the other side.
Another minute passed. He threw his cigarette down, banging a fist to the rusted metal with impatience. After a moment of waiting he considered going around to the intercom, but it felt too much like defeat. He knocked again instead, kicking with a steel tipped boot for good measure and flicking another glare up to the camera.Â
The noise must have worked. The door swung open with a growl, sudden enough it nearly took an inch off his nose. Before he could blink, the front end of a revolver shoved itself against the scar on his cheek, forcing his back to the wall with its presence. Seven eyes peered over the muzzle, a shiny chrome scowl beneath them. Daggerâs fist moved on instinct, nestled now against the underside of Dum Dumâs chin where the skin still felt human. The steel claws in the chassis of his hand inched in the sheaths between his knuckles, hungry for a drop of blood. They stood still, entwined in each otherâs violence, neither one ready to budge.
âKeep that gun in my face any longer and Iâll get real acquainted with your fleshy bits.â He wasnât sure which lens he should look at, or which ones were looking at him. His icy gaze settled on the ones that looked most like eyes, though he couldnât read them. The tip of his claws met skin, just slightly. Enough bite to prove he wasnât lying.
Dum Dum didnât sweat it.
âYou think your trigger is quicker than mine?â
âMight be fun to find out.â
The sound that came from his throat could have been a laugh. A moment later, Dum Dum drew the gun back and slid it into the waistband of his pants. Slowly, Dagger followed suit, letting his hand fall away with a tinge of disappointment. A click of his tongue.
âScared?â
âMy bullet would rip through your meatpan before your chrome even touched me,â Dum Dum said. He sounded sure, the weight of his optics nearly prying Dagger apart, scanning his hardware in bemusement. He wouldnât find much, except maybe that his assessment was correct. Which begged the question: why not pull the trigger?
Dagger grinned.
âYou gonna invite me inside?âÂ
Dum Dum didnât answer, turning a corner toward the street without looking back at him. âNothing in there for you.â
âIs that right?â Dagger pulled his cigarettes from his jacket and lit one as he followed. A busted up Chevillon was parked on the corner, garish Maelstrom colors splattered across the rusted paint like a badge of honor. Ugly, like everything else around it. He smiled. âTaking me out to pasture then?â
Smoke slithered from his lips as they walked.Â
âYou wanna play with the big dogs youâre gonna have to work like a bitch.â Dum Dum stopped at the car, and spared him an indecipherable look. âThat means you do what I say, when I say it, how I say it. If I tell you to lick the shit off my boots you better fucking get on your knees and do it, yeah? Piss me off and itâs bye bye with a bullet. Weâll sell your meat to the Scavs without a second thought.â
Dagger raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took another drag from his smoke. âMy god, I think I can see Royceâs hand up your ass using your mouth like a little puppet. Donât you wanna be a real boy?â
Dum Dum looked tough, but Dagger had seen enough already to know that he folded for the big man as easy as paper. He half expected the gun again, but to his surprise, he only saw a smile on the other manâs faceâteeth that looked too human to belong to him. The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop.
âYou are one stupid motherfucker.â
He almost sounded impressed.
Dagger stared him down with the same grin, head tilting. Anyone else, he might skin them alive for the assertion but Dum Dum could be useful. No doubt more than any of the other rusted lugnuts lurking in the gang whoâd still be more than happy to kill him. If he wanted this to work out, heâd need someone watching his back, and heâd already proved he wouldnât pull the trigger.
Dum Dum slid into the driverâs seat and gestured for Dagger to go around. He wasnât thrilled about playing passenger, his own car parked down the block, but he decided not to push it. He didnât know his way around the city yet, let alone wherever the fuck they were headed. Or why.
He climbed into the Chevillon, choosing to play nice, a decision quickly waning as he waited for an explanation that never came. He blew smoke toward Dum Dum, a juvenile attempt to get his attention as the engine turned over.
âGot a problem, princess?â Dum Dum asked without looking. At least his head didnât move.
Dagger leaned back in his seat. âJust wondering what the fuck Iâm doing here.â
âYouâre the one who knocked.â
âFunny.â
The car pulled onto the street.Â
âGot a pick-up.â The flat drone of his voice gave away his own annoyance in the silence. âAnd I wasnât bullshitting before. Do as youâre told and we wonât have a problem.â
Dagger rolled down his window to vent the smoke from his cigarette. âPick-up? And here I was hoping for a little fun. Ainât you lot known for your violence? No offense but thats a waste of my talent and Iâm keen to believe itâs a waste of yours too.â
âRoyce wants to know you can follow orders. You might be hot shit to those desert dogs but youâre a long way from the top out here.â
Something in the gravel of his tone indicated a warning, but Dagger flicked it off with the ash from his cig. He glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, watching the city blur past the tinted glass. Northside was less colorful than the rest of Night City, all smoke and concrete. In a way, it reminded him of homeâthe badlands, an endless sprawl of sun bleached dirt, harsh and rigid. Vibrant in its decay. They bore their similarities alright. He could smell fire in the air. A laugh lodged itself in his throat as he finally looked over.
âSo thatâd make you what, then? The babysitter?â
A grunt. There might have been humor in it. Or a threat.
âYou should count yourself lucky. Anyone else prolly woulda shot you by now.â
Dagger didnât doubt it for a second. Dum Dum was different from the rest, and somehow just the same. He followed orders, and crumbled like soggy paper for the top dog. Out of fear or loyalty, he couldnât tell yet, but he lacked the self-respect to see that Royce would throw him out as soon as he wasnât useful. He wondered what might happen if those strings pulled taut. If something sharp happened by to whittle them down.Â
Dum Dumâs voice caught him by surprise.
âIâm actually impressed youâre still walking. Didnât think youâd show up after that beating last week.â
âThat right?â Dagger said, casually flipping down the visor ahead of him and examining his face in the two inch mirror. The bruise beneath his eye had faded from plum to a brown rot and for a moment he could feel the impact of the metal punch that knocked him on his ass again. It wasnât the only one. His body was littered, like the canvas of an old painterâsplashes of color hemorrhaging against his skin. He knew there was a cracked rib, probably a concussion, too. A few busted teeth, and more. Welcoming gifts from Maelstrom. It was his own suggestion, a last ditch effort to get close to the gang without having chrome shoved up his ass. An initiation plucked from his smuggling days. Each member got a single hit. If he was still alive by the end of it, heâd get in.
And Dagger always got in, smiling and spitting blood. Heâd do it again just to prove that he could.Â
âHell, I thought that left hook from Lars might kill you.â Dum Dum laughed.
Dagger flipped the visor closed. âYou kiddinâ? My Daddy hit me harder for stealing a cigarette when I was eight years old.â
âYou were prolly just a pussy back then.â
A grin cut across his lips as naturally as the sun cresting over the cityscape. âWell, he had a harder swing than you, at least.â
âMakes sense.â The car turned a tight corner and Dum Dumâs head tilted toward him for the first time. âConsiderinâ I pulled my punch.â
Dagger met those empty red lenses with a raised brow. âThe fuck you did.â
The crack of his own teeth rang out in his ears again, as if that chrome fist was crashing into his face all over. He could still remember his seven eyes watching him as he stumbled back, spitting blood and enamel in his face. He tongued the empty space on his bottom gum where the molar used to sit. Dum Dum had extracted it more seamlessly than the worldâs best dentist ever could.
Pulled his punch.Â
Dagger scoffed.
Dum Dum didnât show any sign of humor. His silence said it all.
âAnd why the fuck would you do that?â
A pause. And then finally a smile.
ââCause the harder we hit you, the louder you laughed. Didn't wanna give you the satisfaction.â
Daggerâs face fell, as expressionless as the red lenses in front of him, which seemed now to burn holes through his chest in the silence. He should cut them from his skull, but the feeling passed at the sight of a smile on Dum Dumâs lips.
âFuckinâ lunatic,â he said, somewhere between affection and dismay.
Dagger took it for a compliment. He grinned, and a bruise sang triumph beneath his skin.Â
The car pulled off the street beside a painted wall that looked nearly identical to every other street corner in Northside. Dagger could find his way through every small vein of dusty road across the Badlands with his eyes closed but ask him to distinguish between one block or the next within the industrial sprawl of the district and heâd be lost. He pressed his forehead against the window and looked up. Not even the sky could help him. The shadow of the city all but smothered it.Â
Dum Dum cut the engine.Â
Wrecked cars littered the crowded alleyway where they sat now, nothing but skeletal remains, picked clean by the vultures. But there was one ahead of them, a black van that stuck out among the rest. The pick-up, if he had to wager.
âWhat are we waiting for?â he asked, his cigarette almost nothing but ash. He finally flicked it out the window.Â
Dum Dum didnât answer. He studied the van ahead of him in the quiet, and after a moment Dagger pushed his optics to scan it too. Standard. No heat signature inside, though there was something stored in the back, a chemical signature he couldnât get a specific read on. Drugs, more than likely. Of course it was. He had heard the âstrommers had their own brand of shit. The kind with enough kick to push past the thirty pounds of chrome in their head.Â
âSomething the matter with it?â On instinct, Dagger looked in the rearview, scanned the surrounding area. A flash of light flickered somewhere behind them and disappeared. He waited for it to happen again, but he saw nothing.Â
âGadge ainât here,â Dum Dum said, tone flat. Once more unreadable.
âTaking a leak?â
A grunt. He leaned back in the seat, hand dropping down to the revolver wedged between his seat and the middle console. He flicked his head forward, toward the van. âWell, go on, bitch boy. Check it out.â
Daggerâs eyes narrowed, but he pushed back the urge to tell him to fuck off. He lit another cigarette on the way out. The street was quiet, though somewhere a few blocks down a siren echoed off the smokestacks. He paused when he reached the back of the van, head turning over his shoulder. There was nothing here. Nobody in sight beside those seven glowing eyes behind the glass, and still the hair rose on the back of his neck.Â
No Gadge. No blood. No struggle. So why did he have a bad feeling? He focused his attention back to the van as Dum Dum waved a hand at him impatiently. Another quick scan told him the same information before he finally reached for the handle and pulled the bed open. A creak of metal cracked through his ears.
It almost deafened the gunshot.
Dagger ducked, dropping low without thought. His cigarette fell to the ground half burned, mocking him as another bullet riccochetted against the back of the van. His first thought was Dum Dum. Royce had changed his mind on the deal, ordered his execution. A quiet hit didnât sound like his style, and Dagger was almost disappointed he wouldnât get to see the ugly bastard one more time just to call him a fucking pussy to his face, but a moment later he could hear the âborgâs static voice yelling at him from the car to get the fuck up.
He stayed low, unable to pinpoint the direction of the gunshot, and made his way back to the passengerâs side of the Chevillon.
The engine sputtered to life at the same time as the van in front of him. He crawled inside just in time to witness the driverless van crash through a charred Mackinaw to the next street over.
âFuck!â Dum Dum yelled, flooring the pedal before Dagger could get his foot pulled in all the way. âShitâs hacked. Gonkâs donât know who theyâre messing with.âÂ
He rammed through the same debris as the van but caught a harsh edge of metal, and the Chevillon stalled for a moment before struggling through. The ringing in Daggerâs ears hadnât stopped, and he only realized his hand was bleeding when he reached for his third smoke.Â
âHack means their close.â
Dagger rolled the window down and stuck his head out, catching the stale air of Northside in a suffocating wind. He could see the van ahead of them like a black smear, but it wasnât the van he was interested in. Quickhack on a vehicle was useful, but it had drawbacks. One being proximity. Had to be close or you lost connection, even with boosted gear.Â
A small Hatchback swung suddenly out from a sidestreet, narrowly missing their car as it sped past. Dum Dum swerved and lost a foot of paint on a fire hydrant in attempt to keep steady. Dagger scanned it as it followed track with the van, spitting chooh2 to catch up. Two signatures inside. A runner.
He ripped the gun from Dum Dumâs seat and pulled himself halfway out the window to take aim. He shot quickly and near blind, bullet lost in the wind as the chase veered left.Â
âFuckinâ shoot steady,â Dum Dum yelled over at him.
âDrive fuckinâ steady,â Dagger snapped, and this time he held his breath as he aimed for the speeding car. A shot came back at him in response and he ducked back into the window before firing again. The windshield spiderwebbed but the car stayed true, zipping through a line of traffic as they headed into a busier part of the district. A horn blared beside him. The hatchback disappeared between two trucks, and Dum Dum struggled on the wheel, crashing into the edge of a turning car and nearly throwing the gun from Dagger's slick, bloody grasp when he shot again.
He couldnât track where the bullet hit, but he could tell that it missed.
With a growl, Dagger reached over for the wheel.
âSwitch me places.â It was a command more than a question, but Dum Dum didnât protest. He ripped the gun from Daggerâs hand as Dagger pushed his leg over to the gas pedal and shimmied across the seat in an awkward dance, climbing over him without slowing the vehicle until they both settled into their new positions.
Dum Dum took aim as naturally as Dagger did the wheel. He was no stranger to this, or to the electricity running through his chest as he gripped the wheel knuckle tight, grin spreading over his lips.
The tight streets were no match for an open road, but it got his blood pumping all the same.Â
He could barely make out the back of the car up ahead, but he could see the rear light explode as Dum Dum fired beside him, leaving red glass sparkling on the pavement like blood. Another shot bellowed, and the hatchback veered wildly, nearly toppling sideways as it made a sharp turn.Â
Dagger followed, cutting the same corner with the ease of sharpened steel. He couldnât see the van further up, but he locked his optics onto the car. Blood splattered the window, and he knew that Dum Dum had hit one of them inside. The engine groaned as he pushed it further. The Chevillon didnât have the same gumption as his Quadra. He could feel the waiver in her gait, but they were close now. Dum Dum felt it too. He braced his arm on the roof. One good shot is all theyâd need.
Dagger seamlessly crossed over the center line, taking the opposite lane to blow past several cars that separated them from their goal. Traffic sped by, so close it rocked the car, but he didnât flinch.
One. Good. Shot.
Dum Dum fired.Â
Blood sprayed the windshield.Â
The hatchback veered suddenly into a passing car, which came to a skidding stop, halting the traffic behind it and keeping Dagger from passing back over into the right lane. His mind raced, and on instinct he took a quick left to avoid collision, and then another.
Dum Dum screamed in his ear, but the words were deafened from wind, the ringing, the sirens. Neon lights burned together, flashing against his corneas.Â
âWrong fuckinâ way!â He heard finally.
The streets grew narrower, and then he understood.Â
He could smell the ocean.Â
 Northsideâs warehouses were a shadow in the rearview as they headed toward the bay into Kabuki. Tyger territory. They had crossed the district line.Â
Dum Dum reached for the wheel in a last ditch effort to change course. The momentum of the turn threw them upward, tires leaving the ground. The car spun uncontrollably, flipped, crashing through the barricade on the side of the road in a explosion of crunching metal.Â
He could see the ocean.
A smear of open blue that could match the sky his heart yearned for. It was beautiful.
Almost.
And it hit like a fucking rock.Â
His vision blacked for a moment before the water caved in around them. Slowly, then all at once. He barely had time to take in a lungful of air. Kicking at the door wildly, he swam away from the wreckage as the sea pulled them under. His gaze shot upward, searching once more for the sky to lead him. He followed the light up and up, chest starting to ache, until finally he found it.
Dagger gasped as he breached, shaking water from his eyes. He didnât recognize the city around him, but he spotted a dock nearby. He swam toward it, then stopped. Looked back. The only remains of the Chevillon were petering bubbles at his back, and smooth water beside that. There wasnât any sign of Dum Dum. By the look of him, heâd sink as quick as the car.
He glanced between the dock and the bubbles and back again.Â
All that fucking chromeâŠ
Walking back to All Foods without the drugs and their sergeant at arms might earn himself a spot in that industrial microwave that Maelstrom liked to boast. Dum Dum was the only one who didnât want to kill him, after all.
âFuck.â
He spit water then took another breath and dived.
The car left a trail like ink in the murky water. Dagger clawed toward it, dragging himself further down into the dark depths. Day turned to night. The city was different here, peaceful, and if not for the pounding in his ears, quiet.Â
The distant red glare of those eyes shined like a beacon further down. He followed them like the north star, pushing himself to go faster. Dum Dum kicked despite himself, maybe instinct, maybe panic, but his weight worked against him, pulling him down quicker. Dagger pushed harder, reached further. Dum Dum finally noticed him, lenses fixed and unwavering, a calm coming over him as he finally got close enough to grab. Dagger heaved upward, working against the oceanâs cold grasp and the anchor like weight dragging him down. His chest began to burn, and the sky still looked so dark above them.Â
He considered letting go, eyes squeezed tight, angry âganic lungs ready to burst.Â
And then he could breathe again.
He reached blindly for the dock ladder, trying hard not to heave. Dum Dum climbed up beside him, still as a corpse.
âFucking gonk shit,â he muttered.
Dagger almost didnât catch it over the sound of his panting. He laid flat on his back, taking in the welcome blue above him. He could finally see a break in the cityscape, clouds sneaking in at the edge of his vision.Â
âQuite a fuckinâ thank you,â Dagger said without taking his eyes from above.
âOxygen reserves. Could sit down there all day.â
He sat up slowly, running a hand through wet, matted hair. âAll the good itâd do you. Be a pile of rust by the time they found you. If they found you.â
Dum Dum laughed. Short, quick static. Somehow it sounded genuine.
âAnd Iâm sure you did that outta the kindness of your heart.â
âWhat fuckinâ heart?â He said flat, patting down his pockets for his cigarettes. He pulled the pack out, sopping wet. He didnât bother trying to light one before he tossed them into the bay with a sigh. âOwe me some fucking smokes.â
Dum Dum opened his mouth to speak, but the words never made it. He lifted his head, and though he couldnât see exactly, Dagger knew he was looking past him. A gun cocked at the back of his head. Cold barrel against his skull. He clenched his jaw, and turned to see a woman he didnât recognize staring down at him behind glass eyes.
His automatic translator picked up her words better than his ears.
âWelcome to Kabuki, bitch.â
#cyberpunk 2077#oc: dagger#dum dum#x: perfect drug#my fic tag#well i fussed over this too much so im just gonna say yolo and post it#that also means i have to start on the second chapter. hm.#anyways..........its been a long time coming dklsajfdlsa#linked the song i got the title from for soundtrack purposes if it suits you UwU#sad to tell you all that cockroach won't appear until ch.2 despite being in the above image v.v#false advertising im sorry
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