#my eye has been twitching all day and i can feel my heartbeat also . Not Havinf a good time
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yael-things · 1 year ago
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how do i stop being stressed all the time 😭😭😭
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wonwoonlight · 1 year ago
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Through the night, through the day - Seungcheol (unfinished)
A/n: a little something from my discontinued wip that i really wanted to finish but no longer has it in me to. Happy three years to this blog, here's to writing for yourself and not validation of others 🍻 thank you for all of you who have been reading my stuff up until now.
Loosely inspired by: AKMU - Last Goodbye, Adele - All I Ask
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Seungcheol isn’t sure who’s to blame for the current situation he finds himself in.
Is it his because he fell out of love first?
Is it yours because you refused to break up with him even after he honestly told you what love he had left for you is barely romantic at this point?
Or is it his because he had let you refuse the break up simply because he felt too bad about forcing it on you?
But he believes as much as it’s a mutual decision to start a relationship, it’s also a mutual decision to end it. He certainly still loves and cares for you enough not to simply leave despite your refusal to end the relationship; but what he has for you is not something he thinks he should be feeling for a girlfriend.
He misses that spark. That thrilling sensation and the way his heartbeat would pick up at the sight of someone’s–your–smile.
And, unfortunately, it’s practically nonexistent now and, at some point, he hates himself for losing it because you still look at him like he holds the universe while he simply feels a pinch in his heart because he feels bad.
His phone lights up with notification, a picture of you and him grinning at the camera flashing before the screen turns black again. He sighs as he takes another sip of his drink, the alcohol burns his throat the same way your smile burns his heart.
Jeonghan’s right. He needs to be stern and stop dragging this more than necessary. The both of you deserve better; him, to finally stop feeling guilty because he can’t leave you behind, and you, e to find someone that will love you like you deserve to be loved.
At some point, Seungcheol knew the role was his to fill, but that’s no longer the case and prolonging this would only hurt the both of you in the future.
Like the two of you aren’t hurting on your own already now.
He bites his lip as he imagines the hurt in your eyes and the forced smile you’d give him.
Fuck.
He downs the shot and orders another.
*
Seungcheol imagined you’d be pressing your lips together as you suppress your tears, shoulders tense and jaws tight when he tells you once again he thinks it’d be better for you two to break up.
After all, that was your reaction the first time around.
What Seungcheol did not imagine, however, are your empty eyes and the way your hands limply stack against each other; your shoulders hunch in defeat and a corner of your lip twitch a faint smile for a millisecond before it turns straight once again.
Like you know it’s coming.
Like you’ve been bracing yourself for it.
There’s a painful squeeze in his heart at the way you’re not meeting his eyes, and he fights fights fights the urge to take your hands and apologize because he’s the one that’s ridding himself of that right.
How is he supposed to handle you like this?
Then again, isn’t this an attempt to let go of that responsibility? Because he doesn’t know anymore how to handle you without the romantic filter over his gaze towards you?
He’s starting to think it would be much better if you had been crying instead.
“Okay.” You say softly, voice barely even a whisper. But it doesn’t matter because he’s heard it and his eyes widen because he doesn’t think you’d agree so easily after the fight you put out last month. “But… Can I ask you one last favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you take me to that camping ground we went to two years ago?”
He blinks, not expecting it at all.
“The one we went to for our first anniversary?”
For the first time in so long, the smile you give him doesn’t make his heart lurch with guilt.
He suddenly tries to think back when was the last time you actually, genuinely smiled at him with happiness in your eyes.
You always have that fond look in your eyes–something so soft and full of love–even after he asked for the break up last month. You still look at him that way after that and even right this second.
But happy?
When was the last time you laughed happily in his presence?
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to go back but don’t really have any reason to…” You frown to yourself, your lips purse in a way that makes him want to squish your cheeks like he used to. “A farewell trip… if you will. Is it okay?”
“Sure.” He says without thinking. That’s the least he can do for you; he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend nor even person in general the past month, and the fact that he’s staying with you out of obligation because he doesn’t know how to break it off after your argument has been eating him inside out. If this is what you need to finally let him go, he doesn’t see why it would be a bad idea.
He still cares for you. Just not in the way people in a romantic relationship should.
For you, he’d still do anything if it’s within his reach.
For you, he'd still do anything to make sure you're happy again.
You’re still his friend before anything and Seungcheol always always tries to do his best for his friends.
“When do you want to go?”
“This weekend is fine if you’re free.”
“It’s Mingyu’s birthday, I already promised we’d go out for a drink. Is next weekend okay?”
“Sure. Do you want me to make the booking?”
He shakes his head. Perhaps it’s him wanting to compensate, but if this is going to be a farewell trip, might as well do everything for you so he can convince himself it’s okay to let go of the guilt he’s been holding over himself if only a little.
“I’ll do everything. You just wait and be pretty, okay?” He smiles cheekily, which you can only smile back in return despite the way your heart cracks little by little at how easy the words tumble out of his lips.
And he wonders why you find it hard for you to let go.
*
“Why are you brooding like your screen has personally offended you?” Jeonghan asks, plopping on the sofa next to Seungcheol.
It’s game night, something he and his friends promised to hold at least once a month. It’s Jeonghan’s turn to host the night, and Seungcheol has come almost two hours early only to focus on his macbook and barely even says anything to him, the owner of the place.
Not that it’s a rare occurrence, Seungcheol does have the tendency to do this from time to time. Just barge into his place, grunts a greeting, and leaves after an hour or two.
“I’ve been trying to book this spot in the camping ground but it’s not available.” He sighs.
Jeonghan tilts his head, interested. Seungcheol hates planning with passion, yet he's apparently doing a very thorough research for some reason.
He looks at the amount of tabs open on his laptop, and when he asks about them, Seungcheol simply says he’s making an itinerary and is currently checking all the possible places he might visit around the camping ground. He points out some places, says their pros and cons and where he currently stands about visiting them.
“Who’re you going with again?” When he mutters your name, Jeonghan can’t help but get more interested. “Didn’t you say you’re breaking up with her?”
“Yeah. She said she wants to go there one last time… I don’t know. For old time’s sake, maybe? Anyway, I don’t see anything bad about it so I guess why not.”
“You’re breaking up with her.”
Seungcheol sighs and puts away his laptop. His best friend can get like this sometimes and, at the wrong times, it really gets on his nerves.
“I am. It’s a goodbye trip of some sort, okay? She said we’ll break it off after that. Just one last trip, that’s what she asked; how can I not give her that?”
“Why would you go on a trip with someone you’re breaking up with? Isn’t that kind of the point? To stop seeing each other?”
“Look, I’ve been with her for three years, almost four, even. And it’s not like we’re breaking up because we’re fighting or what–I fell out of love. It’s on me. And I still care about her and treasure the time I’ve shared with her. If there’s anything I can do to make this breakup bearable for her, I would.”
Seungcheol clenches his jaw at the way Jeonghan is looking at him; his eyes calling him stupid and pathetic at the same time without his lips saying anything.
“You’re just compensating because you feel guilty, then.”
“And it’s wrong for me to do that?” He fumes, not getting where his best friend is going with the talk. If he thinks this is one of those days when it’s fun to push all his buttons just for the sake of it, Jeonghan definitely chose the wrong topic to do so. “Why are you complaining, anyway? It’s not like I’m making you come with me. Do you not like the idea of me giving her closure? Do you secretly dislike her all this time?”
Jeonghan looks at him sharply, daring him to say more about how he feels about you. He knows Seungcheol threw the last sentence just to spite him, because of all his friends, you’re closest with Jeonghan and the feeling is pretty much mutual. Of all the partners Seungcheol has had, you’re the one that clicks with him the most; you seem to care about Seungcheol’s friends the same way you would your own friends. If there’s anything Jeonghan appreciates, it’s loyalty.
Always loyalty.
He’s sure he would also be devastated due to your break up with Seungcheol if it means he might lose someone he treasures as much as you.
“It’d only be harder for her, you asshole.” He grits his teeth. “Why would you give her hope by doing this much preparation for a fucking goodbye trip?”
“Because she asked for the trip!”
“What you’re arranging is a romantic getaway not a goodbye trip!”
Seungcheol falters a little at this, and before he can say more, the intercom beeps, signaling the other guys’ arrival. They share one last look with each other before Jeonghan gets up and opens the door, Mingyu’s rowdy voice followed by Wonwoo and Seokmin immediately dissipates the tense in the living room.
A few hours later, it’s still a little awkward between Seungcheol and Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Seokmin approaches them separately, and when the only thing they get is a set of reassurance that they simply had a disagreement, they let it go and decide it’d be best not to bring it up for now.
“By the way,” Seokmin opens the talk as Mingyu puts down cans of beer on the table. Seungcheol immediately reaches for one and the others wait for Seokmin to continue talking. “Is your girlfriend okay? I saw her in the hospital today.”
The way Seungcheol immediately chokes on his drink would’ve been funny otherwise. He wants to make sure that it’s his girlfriend Seokmin is referring to, but he’s currently one of the only two people with a partner in this room and one of them is Seokmin himself.
“I–what?”
“Oh… you didn’t know?” The younger guy winces, though he thinks it’d be best to tell Seungcheol anyway. No matter how small it might’ve been, he would want to know if his girlfriend somehow had to visit the hospital. “I was visiting a friend and I saw her walk out of the building but she didn’t see me and she was already too far away for me to call for her.”
“She didn’t say… I didn’t even know she went to the hospital.”
Jeonghan holds back a snicker, of course he wouldn’t know. Seungcheol hasn’t exactly been attentive to you since the moment he realized he’s falling out of you, head too deep in guilt and his own thoughts that he forgets to actually take a look at what’s in front of him.
The conversation goes elsewhere, and once Seungcheol is sure the attention is no longer on him, he whips out his phone and texts you to ask if anything happened.
[20:31] did you go to the hospital today? seokmin said he saw you
[20:44] 💜: oh, yeah. severe cold case, no worries tho! Is seokmin ok?
[20:45] you literally said severe, how am i supposed not to worry?
[20:35] why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gone with you to the hospital
[20:47] 💜: it’s still just a cold haha. i simply got checked just in case. but they made sure it’s nothing but cold.
[20:47] Calling 💜
“Please stop trying to make it look like you’re not sick.” Seungcheol cuts immediately into the case, standing in the kitchen where it’s less noisy. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was with you a few days ago.”
Huh. Wait.
Was that why you looked a little out of it?
He closes his eyes in contempt and curses himself for not noticing. No wonder you looked so lethargic. So much for a boyfriend.
“It’s really just a cold, Cheol.” You try to reassure him, though your strained voice nor the cough that follows right after aren’t really doing a good job doing so. “You know the weather has been crazy these days.”
“Still. Why would you go to the hospital alone?”
It’s not easy for you to blink back your tears as you press your lips together, hoping Seungcheol would mistake your heavy breathing is due to your cold. You wonder if Seungcheol does all of this purposely. What a cruel man he is, asking you to break up with him and then scolding you for not telling him you’re sick, that he’s worried and asked if you want him to come over tonight.
Does he or does not want to cut ties with you?
“Cheol… Look–I… I simply thought you’re busy and it’s no big deal. I should be fine after a few good night sleep, they didn’t even prescribe me that much medicine and that should say something, right?”
Something stirs in him at how exhausted you sound, and he imagines you’re laying down in your room by the sound of rustling he hears across the phone.
“Have you had dinner?” He asks instead, looking at the digital clock on Jeonghan’s fridge.
“Not yet. Maybe later.”
“Alright, I’ll just wrap it up here and come over.”
“What?” You immediately sit up, not exactly pleased with the way this conversation is going. “No, Cheol. Just hang out with the guys, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sick, why would I be here?” He argues.
You sigh, not sure anymore the cause of your headache.
Is it your cold?
Is it him?
Probably both.
Why is Seungcheol so adamant in taking care of you when he has asked to break up last month and then asked once again not even a week ago?
Why couldn’t he be a jerk and just leave you alone?
Why does he feel the need to make sure your feelings are still intact when he has, according to himself, no longer felt the same intensity he thought one should have when they’re in a relationship?
It’s really your fucking fault for asking for him to reconsider. But, then again, you didn’t expect him to accept it at once–what was even the point of asking for a break up if you’re going to crumble after one refusal?
You didn’t know what to say the first time he asked for it. Because you know… you know it’s coming. You’ve felt the way he’s been pulling away, the way he’s been less and less interested in what you have to say, and how he’s been enjoying his time not talking to you than the other way around.
It hurts.
It hurts so much because this is the person who used to listen to you like you personally hang every single star in the universe by yourself, one that used to stare at you and pay attention to everything you say because he said he doesn’t want to miss anything only to miss half the things you’re saying because he’s too busy staring at you.
And when he asked the second time… you pretend to cough to hide your sniffle, wiping the tears that have managed to escape your eyes before you try to hurriedly hang up the phone.
“Cheol, I need to–”
“I’ll be there in forty minutes.”
He arrives in thirty, fusses over dinner and your air conditioner system and forces you to rest even after you relay what the doctor told you; that you should be okay in a few days.
It’s 1 in the morning when he leaves your place, and he only does so after you pretend to be asleep in hope he’d go home instead of staying over.
You feel him caresses your cheek softly and pats your head before he leaves, and you’re pretty sure you can feel him staring at you for a good three minutes before you hear your front door click.
You fall asleep an hour later because you’re too exhausted from crying and your head is pounding because of the same reason.
Fuck Choi Seungcheol.
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cal-writes · 11 months ago
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little winter gift for yall from my drafts. just me making connections during my reread that basically boils down to “it’s not that deep - but what if it was”
usopp and zoro bonding post thriller bark, enjoy
Usopp’s not usually the one roaming the ship at night unless he has guard duty, which isn’t often. It’s an unspoken rule aboard that Zoro has the night shift barring extenuating circumstances.
Well. These were extenuating circumstances. Zoro hadn’t even protested when the topic had come up over dinner, had only drunk from his cup until someone else had volunteered and Chopper had chided him for drinking alcohol while his injuries were still so fresh.
The cold night air drives a shiver up Usopp’s spine as he makes his round on deck. When he looks behind them he imagines that he can still see the faintest sliver of Thriller Bark, slowly sinking below the horizon. The memory of that place makes him shiver twice over. He rubs his hands together to fight off the chill, tries not to be reminded of doing the same motion to scrub Zoro’s blood off his hands only a few days ago. It shouldn’t shake him like this, he’s seen Zoro bleed hundreds of times, has incompetently helped Chopper throw useless bandages on him an equal amount. And yet.
Usopp shakes his head, slaps his cheeks and makes his way up the crow's nest. He still has hours on duty. Hours of nothing to distract him from his thoughts he realizes as he climbs the rope ladder. Sanji’s words keep repeating themselves in his head. “He said nothing happened.” Sanji had said, straining under Zoro’s weight.
He hadn’t connected the dots then. Usopp had been a little preoccupied with everything else, like their bleeding first mate, or Luffy’s miraculous recovery, or Kuma’s disappearance, or Lola and her crew. Only once their celebration had died down and his mind slicked by liquor had Usopp thought briefly.
Had Zoro done the same as Usopp had back in Sirup Town?
Not the exact same, obviously. But the words had been so similar to what Usopp had told Kaya, what he had made her promise, he couldn’t help but be reminded. And once he had thought about it it wouldn’t let him go. It was ridiculous of course. There was nothing unique about the expression. People said it all the time. Despite Usopp’s great fame, he had no claim to the sentence.
But it wouldn’t let him go.
The crow’s nest greets him with a muggy warmth, still toasty from being exposed to the sun all day as he emerges from below and climbs inside. The ocean past the window is calm and vast, a sea of ink black and Thriller Bark long gone.
He’s also not alone. Usopp is proud that his startle response is to freeze, an invaluable quality of a sniper! His heart still hammers nails against his chest when he notices the slumped figure out of the corner of his eye and the immediate response is quickly superseded by his flight instinct that makes him jump into the air. “Zoro! You scared me!” He yelps, recognizing the supposed intruder. Usopp clears his throat, adjust his googles on his forehead. “You’re lucky, I almost shot you.” He laughs weakly and blows out a breath, heartbeat still drumming.
Zoro briefly glances up but otherwise doesn’t move. If not for the twitch of his head, Usopp would have thought him to be sleeping at first. As he comes closer, Zoro looks wrong.
He’s sitting with his back against the wall, legs pulled up instead of the usual fold, both elbows resting on his knees, hands laced together. Zoro nods in greeting and then lets his head fall between his arms again. His shoulders are tense, the muscles in his neck straining. Usopp hesitates when he sees Zoro’s swords missing. He looks around the crow’s nest. Surely they wouldn’t be far. But no, Zoro’s alone.
He’s shaking.
Usopp clears his throat and sits down next to Zoro, spreading his legs out in front of him. “Didn’t want to miss out on guard duty, huh?” He asks with a weak laugh before stifling it. The mere attempt to lift the mood makes him feel awkward. Zoro doesn’t react which is both good and bad.
Mostly Usopp feels completely out of his depth. He’s never seen Zoro like this. Then again, before two days ago he’s never believed Zoro might die. Sure Zoro got hurt all the time, walked around with injuries that would have surely killed Usopp himself, but deep down, Usopp had always believed that Zoro would just walk away from every fight. The closest he had seen him come to death had been Mihawk and even then, Zoro had just raised his sword and vowed to never lose again. Usopp wonders if he had broken that vow on Thriller Bark.
He sighs, pulls his own knees up and wraps his arms around them. “Bad night?” He asks quietly.
Zoro’s breath leaves him in a shudder. “You could say that.” He says after a pause, his voice still cracks. It has been hoarse since he woke up. As if he had strained it screaming.
“No need to worry. Captain Usopp’s got you.” He tells him, putting a cautious arm around Zoro’s shoulders. Half expects the other man to pull away. He doesn’t. Zoro just sits with Usopp’s weight on him. Usopp can feel his breathing tremble and his shoulders relax, ever so slightly. Little by little. Usopp keeps his eyes out on the sea. “You can rest.” He says with as much conviction as he’s possible to impart. It’s probably not much to someone like Zoro who can cut steel in half like its bread and carry six of them on his back without breaking a sweat. Usopp is just a dude with a slingshot and some pepper in his bag who couldn’t even get a grain of salt.
Zoro lifts his head, looks out into the ocean with him through weary eyes. Exhales, firmly this time. “I know.” Zoro smirks faintly. He crosses his arms over his knees and closes his eyes. “You mind?” He asks and Usopp isn’t quite sure what he means but he salutes anyway. Doesn’t know why he does that either.
“Never.” Usopp gives him a very many side hug before he stands, shedding his jacket to drape it over Zoro’s shoulders. “I’ll wake you up when my shift’s done.” He tells him. Doesn’t look back at Zoro but hears him pull the coat over him like a blanket.
“Got it.” Zoro says and Usopp blinks to clear the dust from his eyes so he can see the ocean clearly.
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senseandaccountability · 1 month ago
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Poetry prompts beloved!
 “Each with his own weapons”
Perhaps something with Bull?
(Apparently protective Bull and Anne Trevelyan growing middle-aged together was my jam today, sorry/not sorry. Maybe minor Veilguard spoilers for the careful.) poetry prompts here Threadbare “You do know I can do this myself?” Bull looks up at her from where he sits on their bed, her prosthetic arm in his lap, as he meticulously unfolds the intricate fastenings. It’s a craft made from both magical research and dwarven engineering, a gift from Dagna several years ago now and one that has made Anne’s life easier. 
“I know,” he says. “But I like doing it for you.” “I know.” She softens, leans into his care the way she has ever since Skyhold, their familiar pattern the only constant in a world where nothing can be counted on, not even the skies. Skyhold. Tarasyl'an Te'las; she has learned its original name by now, has learned everything she could get her hands on, and so far beyond this as well. It seems no longer than a heartbeat ago that they were in Orlais, yet here they are now, older and fatter and grayer. Threadbare. 
But Bull’s unbroken, as though time and its accompanying softness has only hardened his natural resolve. “You haven’t been in battle for years, kadan-”
“Not exactly going to the battlefield, Bull, I’m going to see Solas, if I can. Varric says-”
Bull makes a sound, low in his throat as he gently lets her crafted arm slip into its slot. “Varric has the judgement of a fucking nug sometimes.” The unexpected insult makes Anne smile. “He has, yes.” She still dreams about red lyrium some nights, running from the monstrosities in the Fade. “But I’m not doing it for Varric, I’m doing it for Solas.” There’s an insult there, too, about poor judgment but it remains unspoken. “I’m coming with you,” Bull says instead. “To the Fade?” Her arm twitches softly under his touch as he adjusts the last bindings and accidentally pinches her. When he notices, he lets the pad of his thumb soothe the spot and Anne swallows. “No.” Some days Anne still feels the magic from the anchor in her bones, other days she hears the beat from it at the back of her mind, a soft, sad song of loss and regret. Whatever else it did to the Veil and the world, Fen’Harel’s magic has also shifted something in her and she can’t tell Bull about it, can’t let him worry more about her place in this upcoming war than he already does. They’re marching into it, each with his own weapon and she plays her cards close to her chest, pressing them to it with trembling fingers. “Damn it.” He straightens up, inches closer; when he places his large hands on her thighs and squeezes, she feels nothing but their connection, drowning out everything else. “Don’t trust Solas’s Fade crap any more than I trust Varric for battle strategy.” “Don’t worry,” she says, echoing her younger self in Haven all those years ago. “Whatever happens I’ll protect you.” “Not. Funny.” Bull’s voice is low and hoarse. Their kiss, when it comes, is harsh and a little desperate; it’s the first in a string of kisses, in her body adjusting on top of him as intuitively as breathing, in his arms around her, her hair tangled up in his horns. Afterwards she rests her head on his chest, the graying red strands enveloping it almost completely and Bull plays with them, wraps them around his wrist. “Come back to me,” he says, mouth pressed against her scalp. Anne lifts her head, looks at him, sees the warrior he still is; sees, too, that there are new scars on his chin, lines around his eyes and a gentler curve to his mouth than there used to be. “Always, Bull."
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lemurlegs · 6 months ago
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Bewitched
Hi everyone!! This is my first fanfic I've ever written so it's probably not gonna be too great, but I had this idea festering in my brain for months and I just need to get it out into the world. Also if some sentences seem a bit strangely worded or there's some grammar mistakes bare with me, English isn't my first language.
That being said I just want to say a few things before we start this journey. So this is more of an OC fic then a y/n fic. I don't want to say much about her character since you guys will learn about it later, but there are a few things to note before starting off.
Her name is Elizabeth but uses a fake name with is Ginger. She was born in 1539, and she died of foxglove poisoning. That's all you need to know for know.
Wordcount: 3.5k
Also a few warnings: swearing, murder, death, torture, stabbing.
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Chapter 1.
I Payed Off The Reaper And It Only Costed Me My Soul
As you lie on the cold, unforgiving hardwood floor of your apartment, a chill crawls up your spine, matching the coldness creeping into your veins. Your once-steady heartbeat falters, each thud weaker than the last, as if whispering its farewell. The room spins in a dizzying whirl, blurring the edges of reality, a cruel trick played by the poison coursing through you. Your trembling limbs betray you, shaking uncontrollably, as if bidding farewell to the world above. With each shallow breath, you feel the darkness beckoning, pulling you down into its silent depths, offering solace in the embrace of oblivion.
Your senses reel as consciousness returns, greeted by a sharp stab of pain in your back. Gradually, you rise to your feet, wincing as you gingerly assess the source of the discomfort. Eyes adjusting to the surroundings, you find yourself standing in an open field, the sky ablaze with hues of crimson, casting an otherworldly glow upon the landscape. A single road stretches out before you, disappearing into the horizon.
"So this is what hell looks like, huh?" You mumble to yourself. You always knew you would end up down here one day. Certainly didn't think it would be your "loyal" apprentice who would cause your demise.
You were a powerful witch, powerful enough to avoid the cold hands of death. You made sure to prolong your mortal existence by performing intricate rituals and potent spells. Anything to not face them again.
While your spells certainly made sure you wouldn't die of old age, in fact wouldn't really age at all, you were still vulnerable to other types of deaths. For example, the little witch you've been training that had oh so graciously poisoned you this morning.
With a cautious hand rubbing your tender back, you take your first steps forward, embarking on a journey into the unknown under the watchful gaze of the scarlet sky.
A sense of urgency propelling you forward, you choose to follow the road ahead, leading towards the promise of civilization. As you tread the asphalt path, your senses remain heightened, scanning the horizon for any sign of life while silently praying that your pursuers remain far away from you. They must know you're down here now, you just hope they don't know your exact location.
After a half-hour trek, the sight of a sprawling cityscape emerges, it’s bustling energy pulsating like a beacon of hope in the distance. A sense of relief washes over you as you take in the towering buildings and labyrinthine streets. "Perfect," you whisper to yourself, here you can definitely hide away for a while.
As you walk down the city streets you finally have the time to observe your surroundings. How interesting all the sinners looked, and how similar this city was compared to the ones topside.
Gazing down at your hands, you're struck by the startling transformation that has taken place. No longer the familiar appendages you once knew, they now resemble claws, sharp and menacing, as if longing to sink into flesh with every twitch of your fingers. A sense of surrealism washes over you as you take in the sight of your newly acquired extremities, a stark contrast to the hands you once relied on.
Turning your attention to your behind, you're greeted by the unexpected sight of a fluffy fox tail, swaying rhythmically with each step you take. It’s russet hue stands out against the backdrop of the urban landscape, a hellish addition to your newfound form. You wonder what other strange features you've gained, do you also have fox ears?
In the midst of your bewildered observation, a sudden onslaught of hands ensnares you, their grip firm and unyielding. Panic courses through your body as ropes constrict around your body, binding you in a suffocating embrace. A gasp is stifled by the rough pressure of a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing any attempt at an outcry. Darkness descends as a blindfold is forced over your eyes, robbing you of sight and further disorienting your senses.
With a surge of primal instinct, you thrash and struggle against the unseen captors, desperation fueling your futile attempts at liberation. Yet, despite your efforts, their grasp remains steadfast. You recognized them immediately, your old coven members, who else could it be? They must have used a tracking spell to locate you, that's why they knew where to find you the moment you fell. Those bastards. They shoved you into a vehicle, your body still bound by what you assume are some anti magic ropes, since you can't use your powers. Escaping now would be impossible.
After a few minutes of travel, the car came to a halt, and your old coven members forcibly pulled you out, their grips unyielding. You realized the urgency of escaping this predicament. Given your past with the coven, forgiveness wasn't on their agenda, and what you did to them? Well, they sure as hell would want payback.
You were ushered into a chilling chamber, momentarily released before being bound at the wrists with heavy shackles, suspended from the ceiling. Only then, as the blindfolds were removed, did you behold the revenge etched upon their faces. Ten of your former coven members stood before you, clad in their ritual cloaks—dark brown fabric adorned with bloodstains, their signature hoods concealing their identities. It was evident that you had been brought into a space where sacrifices were made or where their dark magic was practiced.
One of the cloaked figures broke from the group, unveiling herself—a woman with goat-like features, her gaze filled with disgust as she closed in on you. With the chains restricting your movement, you could only retreat slightly, snarling in defiance, baring your pearl-white teeth as a warning. Despite your display, the goat demon merely chuckled, unfazed, and persisted in her advance.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Elizabeth," the witch sneered, "It's good to see you finally join us, High Priestess."
"Oh fuck you!" you spat back at her. Pulling on your shackles as they rattled, digging into your skin.
"I see you're still as charming as ever. We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival, but since you refused to cooperate and die, we had to take matters into our own hands."
"Now that you're here," she continued, "we can finally exact our revenge for our premature demise."
You scoff at that comment.
"You have nothing to avenge Sabrina; you got what you deserved. You know what you did, what he meant to me. He was everything, and you all took him from me."
"Still upset that we rid you of that unclean brat of yours? Honestly, Elizabeth, I fail to see why you're so attached to such a vile creature. I consider what we did to be quite generous. Don't you agree, girls?"
In unison, the other members echoed their approval. Sabrina turned to you with a smug grin, closing in. She seized your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze.
"Now, it's time you learned your lesson."
The coven members surround you, they form a circle around your strung up body. As the goat lady puts a hand on your shoulder, grabbing onto the shirt you've been wearing, with a swift motion, her claw snags your clothes, ripping them apart, revealing your bare body. You feel a sudden coldness surrounding you, the chilly air makes you shiver. Out of the corner of your eye you notice one of the cloaked figures pull out a knife, and hand the object to the demon in front of you.
Your eyes widen in shock "What the hell are you doing?!!?" You shout at her, as she turns to you with a sinister grin, she brings the knife to your chest
"My, my so distrustful towards your old friend?" She chuckles as she digs the knife into your skin, wincing as Sabrina carves a pattern between your breasts. Looking down you're unable to recognise the sigil. Panic fills your every being as you realize what exactly is happening. They're putting a curse on you.
You start thrashing, trying to lean away from the sharp blade, or at least mess up the sigil work, anything to get out of this situation. Sabrina withdraws the knife, casting you a glare laden with pure animosity. She then addresses the cloaked group, approaching one of the figures clutching a large leather-bound book. She whispered to the demon, you couldn't seem to make out what she said. Though soon you found out what she whispered. The feeling of their dark magic, like thick, heavy chains wrap around you, constricting tighter and tighter with each passing moment. It's as if invisible shadows grasp at your limbs, pulling you into a suffocating stillness, rendering you unable to move.
Desperately trying to make any sort of movement, trying to move away from the approaching blade, but all you could do was endure. You watched as the goat in front of you continued to carve into your skin, tears rolling down your face like rivers. Amidst the pain you hear eerie chanting, and the curse seeps into your body like icy tendrils. It feels as though a heavy weight has settled deep within you, dragging you down into a suffocating abyss. Every breath becomes a struggle as the oppressive magic wraps around your soul, binding you in its dark embrace.
As the chanting begins to die down, Sabrina removes the knife from your chest. As the dark magic leaves your body, your ability to move comes back too, but you feel a burning sharp pain in your abdomen. A loud scream leaves your throat as you look down to your stomach, as Sabrina leaves a big gash making you howl from the pain.
She takes a look at your pained face, clearly enjoying the suffering she's putting you through. You start heaving, trying to calm yourself as best you can, trying to ignore the wound on your stomach.
Sabrina takes a step back, inhaling deeply before letting out a heavy sigh.
“You have no idea how long I've been cooking up this curse for you, it's the perfect retribution for your betrayal against the coven, against me.”
“Wha… what have you done..to m-me?” You managed to stammer, weakened by the wound, blood staining your thighs as it trickled down.
The goat demon hums in amusement.
“I'm glad you asked Lizz. This curse is quite special. It's a fusion of three sigils, forming what i call 'the soul-rotting sigil’. You can probably guess it’s implications, but I'll elaborate anyways.
Sabrina comes up behind you, grabbing your throat while pulling you into her body, your back leaning into her. A gasp leaving you as you try to move from her grip, only for her to tighten her hold.
“The curse will decay your soul like a carcass. It will take a whole year to wither away completely, and when It does… Well, let's just say you're gonna discover what comes after the afterlife.” Her laughter drips with malice as you absorb her words. “Of course we will certainly have fun tormenting you until that day arrives.”
She pulls away from you, letting go of your throat. The goat lady appears in front of you as she continues her speech. “Now I must depart, being the new High Priestess is a very demanding job after all. But fear not, I'll ensure one of the girls keeps you company.”
She turns away with a sinister grin on her face as the coven follows her to what you assume is the exit out of this place. Your eyes follow them, disappearing as they turn the corner.
Turning to the sound behind you, a cloaked figure approaches you, she pulls the hood off her head revealing her cat-like features, she leans in towards you, smiling like Sabrina did moments ago. She looks at your wounded and beat up body. Then she begins circling around you, making awful comments about you, but you don't acknowledge them, as your mind is already thinking about an escape plan.
You quietly assess your surroundings, searching for any potential exits or tools that might aid your getaway. The cat-like demon's words become background noise as you mentally map out your next move. You look up to the shackles, tugging at them slightly. On closer inspection you realize that they're just regular metal chains. Not some anti magic bullshit like those ropes were. As you focus your energy, a warm sensation emanates from your palms, enveloping the chains. With each passing moment, the metal begins to soften, succumbing to the intense heat of your concentrated magic. The links start to warp and bend, like molten wax under a flame.
Your determination fuels the transformation, the once solid chains now resembling twisted strands of metal, weakened and pliable. It takes you a few moments to free yourself, since your body is very weak at the moment, the pain and blood loss certainly not helping your situation either. But with a final burst of energy, the weakened chains give way, breaking apart like brittle twigs. Freed from their restraint, you take a deep breath, relishing in the newfound sense of liberation. Your escape plan is now in motion, empowered by your resourcefulness and resilience.
As your hands free from the shackles you turn to the cat demon who looks at you with a shocked expression. With adrenalin coming to your rescue, you lunge at her and begin tearing her apart with your sharp claws. The demon lets out a guttural scream as you sink into her flesh, blood splattering across the room.
In a flurry of motion, you overpower her, your primal instinct drives you forward. With each swipe of your claws, the demon's resistance weakens, until finally she collapses to the ground.
Breathing heavily, you take a moment to assess the situation. Blood drips from your wound, mingling with the demon's on the cold stone floor.
You lean yourself next to the wall, trying to steady yourself, putting pressure on the wound on your stomach, trying to lessen the blood loss. Slowly limping towards the room you saw Sabrina and the coven pass through, you enter some sort of lounge or dressing room of sorts? You're not entirely sure, the point is they kept their cloaks here. You reach up, pulling one off the coathanger, ripping one of the sleeves off of it, turning it into a makeshift bandage of sorts. It's not great but it's the best you can manage now. Taking another cloak, putting it over your naked vulnerable form, you continue looking for an exit
Despite the pain and weakness gnawing at your body, you press on, determination driving you forward. Carefully navigating the unfamiliar surroundings, you scour the rooms for any sign of an exit. Your eyes scan the walls for hidden passages or concealed doors. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push through the pain.
Finally your perseverance is rewarded by a faint glimmer of light emanating from the corner of a room, you stumble towards it, hoping to get out of this maze of madness. As you draw closer the source of the light becomes clear. A small narrow doorway partially concealed by heavy drapes. Without hesitation you push the fabric aside and step through the threshold.
You are greeted by the red sky once more. Though now it's darker and much more foreboding. You take a deep breath, the smell of sulfur filling your nose. You need to find shelter before they realize you escaped. You might have gotten away, but you weren't out of the frying pan just yet. You slowly limp towards the sidewalk, scanning your surroundings. You remember that the journey to the chamber was quite brief, indicating you can't be too far from where you were ambushed.
You begin walking, trying to find a place to hide away, feeling weaker and weaker by the minutes. As you struggle to keep yourself conscious, you notice a beacon of hope emerging in the distance—a hotel, appearing almost like a heavenly gift amidst the chaos. It's the ideal sanctuary to seek refuge and regroup, provided you can reach it before bleeding out from your injuries.
Summoning every ounce of strength left within you, you press on towards the hotel. Each step feels like a herculean effort as you battle against the encroaching darkness threatening to consume you. Your vision blurs, the world around you swirling in a haze of pain and exhaustion.
But the promise of safety drives you forward, a flicker of determination amidst the despair. With each faltering step, the hotel grows closer, it’s lights a comforting reminder of the safety and respite it offers.
As you draw nearer, your body screams in protest, the agony of your wounds threatening to overwhelm you. But you refuse to succumb, gritting your teeth against the pain, fueled by sheer willpower and the desperate desire to survive.
Finally, you reach the entrance of the hotel, collapsing against the door with a ragged gasp. Relief washes over you as you feel the cool touch of the doorknob beneath your fingertips. With your last ounce of strength, you push open the door and stumble into the lobby, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.
As darkness edges in from the corners of your vision, you cling to consciousness, clinging to the hope that help is near. With a final, trembling breath, you surrender to the darkness, your body giving in to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.
When your awareness returns you're met with two ruby red eyes staring back at you. You jump up as you realize you're laying on the lobby floor of some strange hotel, with some strange demon in front of you. You look at the owner of said ruby eyes, a man who looks like he's dressed for 1930s styled Chinese new year or something, all in red. You notice his deer-like characteristics, he exudes an aura of mischief, and oh god that sinister looking smile of his is downright terrifying.
“Ah you're finally awake dear” the demon greeted you "I thought you were going to meet your end on our freshly cleaned floors. My name is Alastor, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
You blinked up at the tall demon looming over you, unable to say a single word as you continued your staring contest with the strange deer man. You broke your gaze away to look down at your stomach, you were still bleeding heavily, you realized your dire predicament.
“You know it's quite rude to not introduce yourself after i oh so graciously kept you from your second grave” he chuckles.
Struggling to lift yourself slightly, you propped up on your elbows, gazing back at the smiling demon before you.
“ Than…thank y-you… my na-name is ….”
Well shit you can't just tell him your real name. you hesitated, it would be unwise to reveal your true identity. This man seemed dangerous, and your intuition screamed caution. Besides, how were you still alive? If you passed out from blood loss, you were surely done for, and you doubted this peculiar deer-man knew anything about blood transfusions.
Realizing you'd been lost in thought, you heard him clear his throat, snapping you back to reality. Quickly, you give him a fake name.
“...My n-name is Ginger….”
“Ah what a pleasant name for a young lady like yourself. It seems you’ve gotten yourself in quite the pickle, didn't you Ginger?”
All you could manage was a slow nod, hoping against all odds that this demon could somehow help you.
“Well, I can certainly assist you with your… situation, let's say.”
You scoffed inwardly. Situation, he said. I'm literally bleeding out, dude—you thought.
“Pl..please “
“Oh, why of course, after all, I wouldn't be the gracious facility manager if I didn't help poor sinners like yourself.”
“Thank yo-
“Ah ah ah, not so fast, darling,” he interrupted with a sly grin. “You didn't think I would be handing out freebies now, did you? Ohoho, how silly; must be the blood loss making your mind all fuzzy. No, dear, nothing's free here, I'm afraid. So, why don't we make a deal?”
Leaning towards you, the demon extended his hand, surrounded by a swirling green light, a soft glow emanating from his palm, casting a neon color glow. You stared at him, a mixture of shock and exhaustion clouding your expression, feeling your consciousness slipping away. Something tells you that it has to do with the demon in front of you, as if he was keeping you alive and conscious till this point.
“Wha-what would you like to gain from m-me?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Why, your soul, of course. I think it's only a fair price after saving your life,” he replied casually.
Your soul?? This guy wants your soul?? Well great, you knew this was too good to be true. You weighed your options, die now or sell your soul to the strange deer man with a color scheme reminiscent of a strawberry.
Perhaps it was the delirium, or maybe it was the sheer desperation of not wanting to die just yet, or perhaps it was because deep down, you knew your time was limited regardless. Against your better judgment, you shook his hand.
“Deal.”
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rootbeermilktm · 2 months ago
Text
Whumptober no.2
Trust Issues
Annabeth eyes her captors, scrutinizing. They’re arguing in hushed tones some feet away as they help each other apply neosporin and Paw Patrol bandaids to what look like fresh burns. Envy quickly remakes itself into determination, bubbling in Annabeth’s stomach. Bandaids and neosporin would do nicely for her shoulder. The scabs keep breaking when she moves, keeping it perpetually sticky with blood. She’s not even sure if it’s ever scabbed all the way up in the last day since that harpy scratched her. It just feels all wet and achy all the time and she can’t quite see it properly to assess the damage. She’ll have to snatch the first aid supplies before she makes her escape. If it really comes down to it, she bets she could take the two of them in a fight. They only beat her last time because of her shoulder. Now that they’re also injured (she’s pretty sure she’d given the older boy a concussion before they got the hammer away from her) the battlefield has been evened and she can at least put up enough of a fight to run away.
Adrenalin makes her heart beat loud in her ears. It outweighs the throbbing of her pulse in her wounded shoulder. She creeps along the alley walls towards the first aid supplies which have been discarded in favor of the teenagers using their hands to argue more animatedly.
Target acquired. Now go!
“Hey!” A hand latches onto Annabeth’s shoulder and she screams.
“Luke! Let her go!” Annabeth’s neck is tense to the point of rattling her entire body, but it does nothing to distract from her shoulder. There’s a bear trap biting into her, there’s acid eating away at her, there are fingers digging at the raw muscles of her shoulder and— ow. She tries to scratch at the hand holding her with desperate, flailing swipes. “See, this is exactly my point! A gods forsaken kindergartner is just gonna be a liability!”
“No, this is exactly my point! She’s got guts! She can handle it, Thalia!” Something in Annabeth’s brain is absurdly reminded of when she learned about decay in second grade. Her class had watched a time lapse video of an apple rotting.
“You’re concussed, shitbrains! You don’t get to make any decisions!” It shriveled and grew black, twitching with the speed of the recording until it was an unrecognizable mass of deflated flesh.
“And who gave me that concussion? She can fight!” Is that what her shoulder would look like if she could see it? That’s what it feels like.
“Do you even hear yourself?! She’s four!”
“I’m seven.” Two heads swivel to look at Annabeth. Their faces are brown and tan smudges through a haze of tears and pain.
“Styx, is that blood?!” The hand finally releases Annabeth’s shoulder. A sob launches itself out of her in response and she finally collapses, clutching her bad arm.
“What the Hades did you do?!”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Hey, hey.” The voice is softer this time. “It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you.”
Liar. Annabeth scrambles away, using her feet to push herself across the ground until she’s backed against another sheet of metal. Her heartbeat thrums in her shoulder. Each beat sends a shockwave rolling down her limbs. She can barely breathe through the tears that heave themselves from her body. They manhandle her. She can’t control the way she rocks and trembles. Everything hurts. Everything jars her injury and then hurts more. She wants it all to stop.
The bandaids and neosporin are slid next to her shoe. Across from her, the boy sits with his hands in his lap. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks from her to the bandaids. His face is sad. Annabeth takes the bandaids.
“That’s one gnarly cut you got there, kiddo. What happened?” he finally asks.
“You won’t believe me.” She says in a voice that sounds all watery and very small.
“Try us.”
Annabeth shakes her head. The cap for the tube of neosporin is on too tight. Her fingers can’t quite get a hold of it. She is so tired.
“Luke, those are harpy claw marks.”
“I know.”
“Luke, she’s a demigod!”
“I know.”
The bandaids and tube of ointment crumple in her hands. She curls inwards, clutching them tightly to her chest. They would do nicely for her shoulder.
“We have to take her with us.”
“I know.”
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lyramundana · 1 year ago
Text
Coming back with my usual poly minsung shit (i swear I love everyone equally, they’re just got me on a chokeshold recently)
Do you know those cute trials where they have to try make one of the members’ heartbeats grow faster by making them nervous? (This gave us one of the most beautiful minsung moments: Jisung hugging Minho by the waist from behind and kissing his neck, succefully making the cat boy jump flustered. AHHHH) If you know those, you’re aware there are a type of headphones with fluffy ears form that twitch then the person wearing them is nervous by registering their heartbeats.
I pictured a moment between Vivi and Minsung. Pre-relationship, where they’re still on the friends stage. Jisung has already come to terms that he has a raging small crush on her, but Minho is still having trouble understanding it. For some reason I can’t think about now, they decide to try those headphones out. Of course, being boyfriends and all, they go a bit overboard with it because this is just a normal day of interactions with them (but the ears still move and it’s so fucking cute cause they’ve been together for years and still are smitten with each other). They mostly tease each other about who is more flustered, but then Vivi asks if she can try it too.
She feels a bit weirded out herself for making that request, but she also finds them so utterly adorable with those ears on and how they move, seeing also the effects on their bodies langauge, so of course she has to try. Something shifts between them both, but they allow it because, obviously, there’s nothing wrong with it. She’s just a friend, a dear and rather beautiful friend, so it’s no big deal. Jisung is the one with the headphones on.
Vivi proceeds with baby steps. She starts with some eye contact, the basics, but Jisung is already shaking internally. (Remember that video of him with an Ateez member, holding eye contact in silence? That’s him rn) he can’t supress his chuckles, his cheeks are turning a bit red, but he doesn’t move his eyes. She gets bolder and moves closer to him, until he can feel her breath near his face. His hands are grasping unto his knees harshly to prevent the shaking. She smiles at him warmly, tilting her head in a cocky way, and he feels himself ready to jump and run and laugh at the same time. Minho stares at them intently, barely blinking, and biting his fingers to prevent a nervous laught. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous about. 
Then she goes for it. She clasps her hands around his shoulders, trapping him, and hides her nose in the space between his shoulder blades and neck, rubbing it. Ding ding ding, the fluffy ears are twitching already. Jisung finally breaks out on a shy chuckle and sofly pushes her away, but he almost seems reluctant when she gets away from him. She’s smiling in victory, enjoying the minutes of power she had over the boy and enjoying the feeling of knowing she made him so flustered and cute. 
She’s about to leave it there, but Jisung rushily takes off the headphones, puts them on Minho and claims it’s the boy’s turn now. The older looks like he’s been betrayed but he doesn’t take them off. Vivi rolls with it, thinking to herself “why the hell not?” and goes at him. 
Dear god, if Jisung was already shifty, Minho is a mess before she gets closer. He’s already smiling shyly, shifting his position constantly and looking everywhere but her eyes. However, she doesn’t need eye contact to make someone nervous, so she gets creative. She first starts clamping her hand on top of his head and softly caressing his hair, pulling it from time to time. Ups, the ears are already moving a bit and his ears are getting pink. She keeps going, now sitting almost on his lap and moving their faces close. Jisung’s burning gaze on them goes unacknoweldged by her, too focused on seeing how far she can go. She ten locks her arms on his broad shoulders, hugging him and pushing his face on her shoulder. He goes stiff for a moment, but suddenly she feels him moving his nose to her neck instead. The fluffy ears are twitching already, signaling his heart is beating faster than the average, but she doesn’t stop. She continues rubbing his scalp and even starts rocking him from side to side slowly..
and then she pulls his face away from her neck to give him a small, soft kiss on his earlids. 
She feels the vibration of the ears in her forehead by how fast they’re going.
She pulls away with a laugh, not quite believing what she just did but amused at Minho’s red ears and overall their flustered states. Minho blinks rapidily, mouth slightly open like he’s spaced out, and then he basically rips the ears off and throws them at Jisung with a yell. 
Vivi takes off time to go to the bathroom a second and leaves them alone. 
Feel free to complete the rest.
@channieandhisgoonsquad
@charmercharm3r
@moonlightndaydreams
@mal-lunar-28
@sweetracha
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xihe1874 · 2 years ago
Note
Hello my dear 😘
Here is a prompt for you:
Hangman asking The COMPACFLT and his direct CO [Mav leading the newly created Dagger Squad or something] permission to date Rooster [like Jake being very old-fashioned] and he also hints at wishing to marry Bradley, too.
[Icemav/Hangster]
[This is so mushy, I agree! 😂]
Tumblr media
Hiiiii darling!!! Thank you so much for dropping by!!!
No, it's not mushy AT ALL!!! I think it's so cute 🥰🥰
Hope you like this 🤣 You have a wonderful day too!!!! ❤️
(Word Count: 422)
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin never feels nervous. No, negative, not in a million years. So when he stands out of the office of Admiral Kazansky - the COMPACFLT - in his best suit, his forehead sweaty, he regards his crazy heartbeat as…positively wound up, yeah.
He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.
“Sir, Admiral Kazansky, I…” He peeks at his palm and finds that the note he wrote in ballpoint there has been blurred by his sweat. Damn. “I want to ask…”
“What, Lieutenant Seresin?” 
He didn’t notice that the admiral had his laptop open until now.
“Oh, are you in a meeting? I am so sorry, sir, I will…”
The admiral waves his hand and types something on the laptop. “It’s OK, Lieutenant. Please continue, I believe you are asking me something?”
Jake tries his best to square his shoulders under Kazansky’s sharp gaze. “I want to ask for your permission to date Rooster.”
The admiral’s eyes go wide and he looks very amused. He glances at the laptop, the corner of his mouth twitching, like he is trying to suppress laughter.
“Rooster as in…?”
“Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir. Bradley Bradshaw.”
“And you are asking me, because…?”
“Because Mav is not here and you are also his dad. No, no, I mean…” Jake winces. This is definitely not what he has imagined. “Because I like him so much and I want to give him the best. And I want to make our first date as memorable as possible. I just want him to be happy and I have planned this for one week now but I think I have messed it up because you are laughing at me right now…”
“You have planned this for one week?”
Rooster’s voice. And Jake is one hundred percent positive that he is having a heart attack now.
“Aww, this kid is so romantic. I am literally crying now.”
Mav’s voice. Can a person have a heart attack two times in ten seconds?
Kazansky turns his laptop around, and Jake sees two faces on the screen. Three, actually, if his own miserable one is included.
“It’s our family video chat time, kid.”
“Bad luck, Lieutenant.”
“I won’t say it’s bad luck, Ice.” Rooster is staring at him (although it’s kind of hard to tell where he is staring at from the video), his eyes soft. “We can see it as a practice. This idiot will need to ask for your permission to marry me in the future anyway.”
“Hey, Rootser, watch your mouth as I am right here… Wait, what?”
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elliebyrrdwrites · 3 months ago
Text
Dodd used to tap his wand against the third and fourth button of his robes. It click, clicked clicked throughout our sessions. It created a rhythm for these little sessions.
How are you feeling, today, Draco? clickclickclick.
Overjoyed.
Why are you feeling overjoyed? clickclickclick.
Because I’m stuck inside of my head and there’s no way to get out.
Is there anything you’d like to get out? clickclickclick.
I wish I had the guts to kill my father.
You don’t mean that, do you? clickclickclick.
Only in the mornings.
clickclickclick. What do you want out of life, Draco?
I want to find a place where I belong.
Where do you think that is? clickclickclick.
Amongst the stars, staring directly into the sun.
Do you want to get married, have children? clickclickclick.
No. Maybe. Not sure anyone would marry me, but I defintiely don’t think I should be a father.
Why is that?
Have you met mine?
clickclickclick.
If I become a father, I don’t think there’s any kind of fail safe to keep me from becoming another version of him.
clickclickclick.
Dodd is quiet, because my father pays him. Still, these sessions feel like the best place to be honest. So, I continue.
No, I don’t think I’ll do it. The only place I seem to belong is underneath the heel of my fathers shoe.
The heel of my shoe is click, click, clicking against the tiled floor of the parlor. Across from me, Theo is going through the notes Dodd took of our sessions, the treatment he prescribed me. The ones they ignored.
“My gods, Draco.” Theo murmurs as he gently closes the folder and places it down onto his lap. “Your father was a monster."
clickclickclick. “And what am I?” I jerk my chin toward the folder.
Theo shakes his head, running a tired hand over his mouth. “You’re a victim of serious neglect and abuse. I should have this Dodd bloke reported to the board.” He sighs and reopens the folder. “I mean, he knew the right thing to do. He has it written down but he neglected to put you before your fathers wishes.”
Theo sounds upset. It’s been ages since I’ve heard him this upset.
It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. The last time I can remember seeing him was during the war. He was tucked into the corner of my fathers study as our fathers debated over strategies regarding Harry Potter and his cursed fate. I was sketching into an old notebook instead of studying the material on the Wizengamot my father had given me.
Theo Nott’s bright green eyes are studying me. The way I chew on my thumbnail. The way my foot keeps clickclickclicking to the rhythm of my racing heartbeat. I can’t sit still. It’s one of those days, where all of my energy is too much for this body. It’s itching for a way out and I have nothing to give it.
“You often experience something called Hypomania.” Theo says, with a sigh. “I think,” his lips twitch into a frown. “With the way your father abused you, the abuse of this potion...it’s often triggered attacks of anxiety and even episodes full blown mania.”
My eyebrows lift, my heels clickclickclick away, but I say nothing.
“I’d like to meet with you, regularly, Draco.” Theo glances down at my file. “Whatever you keep inside needs to come out. It will help and I think we can come up with a combination of potions that will also help calm the fluctuations from high to low.”
“You don’t have anything right now?”
Theo’s eyes widen. “No, I don’t think that would be safe. I need to research this Persona Supressus to ensure that whatever I do prescribe you won’t cause any harmful contraindications. Are you still taking your liver replenishing antidote?”
I struggle to recall the last time I took it. I think it was the night before I saw Granger. “Not regularly.”
With a shake of his head, he writes down a note onto a little post it, magically securing it onto my folder. The folder full of shame and dark secrets.
“I’m going to talk to Mitsy, have her report to me that you are taking them daily.” He sighs. “I also would like to do a full medical screening before I prescribe anything else to you.”
clickclickclick.
“Fine.”
“Draco, I’m really glad you reached out to me. After what you have been through...” He shakes his head, unable to finish.
“What, exactly, is wrong with me, then?”
“At first glance? A mood disorder. Muggles call it bipolar II disorder. But, it could just be Cyclothymia. I can't be sure, yet. But, either of those would explain your days of heightened energy, moments of an inflated self image. It also explains the moments of self loathing. That feeling of not belonging —”
“Can I be loved? Being this way...does it make me impossible to loved?” I cut him off and Theo’s eyes widen before they glass over.
He clears his throat, lowering his head. He takes several moments before he lifts his gaze back up to me and swallows back unshed tears. “No, Draco. It does not make you unlovable. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
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fumikomiyasaki · 9 months ago
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Oneshot
Among the green leaves
To follow up to this drawing I kinda wrote a small fic about Carol and Erenville too to be self indulgent so given my friends encouraged me might as well share it too even if I am emberassed about it. Time to stop being self endulgent and do something for my other friends.
Melody who is mentioned here belongs to @forestwispocs
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The dim lit light of the lantern shined upon the paper before her... It was close to midnight as Carol sat down thinking about what to write her mother... she often send her letters since she left Limsa... trying to show her she doesn't have to worry about her.
"To Mum,
I am doing well so far... still continuing my quest as usual... but in regards to your previous questions I might have some good news. Melody and I on different reasons visited the forum in Old Sharlayan... mainly cause I wanted to find a cure for a friend's sickness and we needed more information... and there I met someone very interesting... his name was Erenville and he was a gleaner for the forum, needing help with some specimen... I think I finally found someone who not only on a mental level can keep up with me... no I think-"
She quickly crumpled the paper.
"I can't tell mom such things yet... when I don't even know he likes me back... she will get disappointed if I give her bad news... lets start this letter again."
One sigh and she continued.
"He may have been cold at first but he does have a lot of interesting things to say... he has this pretty smirk as well as his voice sounds really soothing and-"
She sighed again and restarted the letter... one break she took writing down all her feelings on another letter to get a clear head... one she placed in a green envelope... hoping she couldn't stop thinking about him but yet still some things slipped through as she hit her head on the table in frustration and hid her red face with her arms.
"I really do love him but If I say something... I dont want him to sway to leave with me... I will leave in a week... and then-"
She clutched her heart...she didn't know how to handle the whole situation really... and so she focused on work instead...taking a lot of the papers and throwing them into the fire...erasing most of her random thoughts... however that green envelope still on the table as she wanted to clean up everything... untill she heard a voice.
"It's pretty late, shouldn't you go to sleep?"
She shrieked up... Erenville peaked into the room as Carol tried to quickly hide that envelope behind her.
"Y-you're right... I just... wanted to finish that letter for my mother... sorry for using this place like this."
A soft hum came out of his mouth.
"It's fine but do know you need sleep early to be fit for tomorrow... I did plan to take you along to some places."
"I will I promise. " Her face was red, her Heartbeat quick... this was a problem if he got curious about the envelope... so she had to move quickly...
"So goodnight-"
"Wait!"
She stopped in her tracks turning around to look at him... in that dim light his Yellow eyes looked even more pretty glancing at her... she felt weak for it. The small twitch of his ears... she tried to grip the envelope as to not let it go as he spoke up. Putting one hand on her shoulder.
"Carol, you seem like you are always pushing yourself too much for others... try to watch out for yourself too..."
"Eren... I-I... Alright... I will."
Showing him a soft smile back she left but after arriving in her room she put that envelope on the desk and grabbed her pillow hiding her face.
"Each day this feeling grows worse...maybe I should talk with Melody about it... no... maybe I should just be quiet. I don't want to bother others with my problems..."
She joined him the next days on some day trips to find some more things... gathering enough information over time that could help her out not only for their current problem but for the future... however each day also brought them closer... she was genuinely smiling more seeing him looking at frogs in awe or infodump on her... and Melody noticed it as well... eventually a small night feast was held to get everyone to rest as Wuk Lamat said next to Erenville slurping food as he noticed his gaze focused on something.
"You are looking at her again, I can see it."
"Stop annoying me and eat your food."
"Come on... you basically invite her here with how much you look at her... Its obvious you like her."
"She has to leave next week anyway... what's the point?"
"Telling her you like her makes her at least want to come back... and given with how many people admire her do you really want someone to steal her away."
"..."
"Buffet, calls." Wuk lamat left with a smile as Erenville sighed. He noticed meanwhile someone approaching.
"Melody, is there something you need?"
"There is something I wanted to tell you, about Carol... do you have time?"
The Viera gave a nod as the Au ra said across from him.
"Listen... Carol has been traveling with us for a while... as she started her journey she was confident and open to face any challenge but similar to us... we faced many hardships together... and she always mustered up a smile even if she was hurting too... she hid her pain so much from us... and the last days I saw her spend time with you she smiled brighter and more genuine then she ever has... she finally found back that energy when she started the journey with us... so I feel she must care about the time she has with you a lot... and I wanted to tell you that. "
"I see... but why are you telling me this?"
"Its cause... I have seen her look at some in our groups.. those who got partners and are close... she probably yearned for something like that too... but never thought of herself... and recently when I met her at night I saw her with that same pained face... like something is on her mind... so-"
"I understand. I actually have noticed her reactions around me as well so I figured as much and... I do like her as well but... I also know I can't be selfish and ask her to stay here. Its why I haven't spoken about it."
"I think you should tell her... its maybe what she needs and... she can still drop by between missions here."
A light smile from Melody and he let out a sigh holding what he was just drinking.
"Fine... I promise you to tell her the next days, can you keep this a secret?"
"I will. I do have an important mission tomorrow as well so, you might have time alone with her."
As Melody left he he leaned back a little.... processing everything he heard... trying to wrap his head around it... and then he realized too... a feeling he had shaken off the other days by treating Carol moreso as a work partner than something more... hiding a little behind his drink as he realized it... just to hear another voice.
"Erenville?"
"Oh Carol, is there something you need me for?"
"I just wondered... there was this bug I found that got me curious."
He got off his seat and started to follow her... they left the town to a small bit following the floating bug into the woods... as it let them to a small colony of fireflies... as if they were dancing lights in the wind... as if to embrace the warmth of the light Carol opened her arms and spinned with them in harmony... showing a smile looking back at him... one that got his face to blush.
"Hm? Erenville, are you alright? You look so quiet...Didn't you want to study them?"
"Thats not important right now... at least not for now."
She looked at him a little surprised...he was blushing... she wasn't used to such a reaction from him... usually he was more calm... moreso she was cought by surprised as he took her hand and interwined his fingers with hers...
"Eren..." Her face flushed a little seeing how he leaned closer to her. He took her other hand as well... showing a calm smile.
"You really should be more direct about your feelings, they are obvious."
"W-what?!"
With a quick hold on her hands he pulled her closer for a soft kiss... her hands clinged a bit closer onto his... giving into it...although eventually their hands broke contact as he wrapped her arms around him... before letting go.
"So you... knew the whole time?"
"Not the whole time but you were quite obvious about it."
Even if her smile was happy... it quickly shifted to a frown.
"I held back... cause I knew I had to leave eventually... these feelings want me to stay... I want to go on research trips with you every day but-"
He shut her up with one finger to her lips and smiled.
"I can wait... I know you are strong and will come back to me."
"But... what if I don't... this was what I feared the most."
He held her close...
"Then we just have to make the most out of the time you do stay here... Just promise me to watch out for yourself... like I asked you the other night."
She looked back at him, craddling his neck leaning back into another kiss... even if it was under tears... even if the future was uncertain... maybe one day... she could put her journey to rest and stay with him forever.
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casspurrjoybell-31 · 11 months ago
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The Consort's Will - Chapter 9 - Part 2
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*Warning Adult Content*
Brayden
175 minutes and 14 seconds.
15 seconds.
The wait is becoming more than just a mild annoyance.
It's now intolerable.
My hunger is worsening, too.
The need for my human's blood swarms through my veins and an odd, empty ache builds in the pit of my stomach.
It's something I've never experienced before.
My feet never tire from pacing back and forth across the uneven floor.
My breathing never changes.
Not that I need to breathe but I have been practicing the action around my human.
He seems to become unsettled when he cannot hear a beating heart or a steady breathing pattern.
The lack of heartbeat I cannot change.
But the breathing I can.
Just before Time's hand strikes minute 176, my nose twitches at Anna's familiar scent.
She's back.
I cross my arms over my chest and tell her to enter yet again.
Her wide eyes peer into the holding cell that's meant to be hidden as a guest room.
"What?" I bark.
"Finn has been moved to the Learning Center with Mr. Primary. They're still going to be awhile. I was told to check on you, to ask again if you'd like to join me in the common room?"
Hearing his name causes that odd feeling in my stomach to tremble.
This woman, this Secondary, knows nothing about my human.
Yet she speaks of him as if she has the right to say his name.
Anna twists her hands together and nudges the door open a bit further with her shoulder.
"The Primary even agreed that you don't have to eat before you join us. He trusts you."
"Is that so...?"
He trusts me.
How comical.
There's nothing about their leader that is trusting.
He captured my human and is no doubt feeding mind all kinds of garbage.
Why else would he feel the instinctive need to not only separate us but also force me into a locked room with no escape?
A calculated smile spreads across my lips at the wording replaying in my mind.
He trusts me.
Ah, yes.
Of course he does.
He doesn't trust me in the logical sense.
Rather, he trusts me to be everything a vampire normally stands for.
He trusts me to be violent, act out and do all he can to turn my human against me.
Therefore, I can also trust that this common room will be littered with his guards, ready to take me down at a moment's notice.
My gaze flickers to the door.
I don't want to leave but every moment spent in captivity is deepening my hunger and unraveling my self-control, minute by minute.
"How generous," I mumble.
"Well, given the Primary's new state of trust, I'm far more inclined. Please, lead the way."
Anna hesitates.
I sense her confusion, suspicion and fear.
It's a bitter combination of emotions.
After my slight outburst earlier I expect this.
My human has unknowingly taught me the delicacy of emotion and their fleeting tendencies.
Although Secondaries are less emotional than humans, they still experience them.
Just not to the same degree.
Anna pushes the door open for me.
Her light footsteps click down the darkened hallway and I follow behind her.
Different scents cling to the stagnant air.
Some are sweeter.
Some are stronger than others.
They're the only remnants left behind from the other Secondaries who used this hallway.
And none of them are my human.
My jaw works itself tighter and tighter.
From day one I have exercised patience and control with him.
Obviously the effects of his Nirv blood have changed me more than I'd care to admit but I still manage to wait for a feeding when he offers it.
I have not claimed blood without it being offered to me since right after I was changed.
But I'm reaching my limit.
Anna turns the corner.
And then another.
Her wispy hair trails behind her, the tendrils barely fluttering against the nonexistent wind.
The familiar lighting from the common room spills into the hallway and the onslaught of fresh blood sets my nose into a frenzy.
A year ago I would be smelling for the best option.
Now my body has changed and my needs have become fine-tuned to the blood of a Nirv.
My nostrils flare in hungry desperation as Anna ushers me into a room packed with Secondaries.
Their eyes follow me and the loud chatter tapers off to silence.
I am their new attraction.
My stomach twists when I intercept a hint of my human's scent.
It's incredibly weak, nothing more than a whisper from when we moved through this room earlier.
But it's there.
Anna slows her pace and points to an empty couch near the side of the room.
"Looks like that one's open. There are plenty of board games and card games too. If you need me, I'll be up at the front."
She nods her head towards the front of the room where we entered earlier.
A male guard stares back at her and the two exchange a look before she leaves my side.
As my human's scent fades, I instead focus on the emotions pulsing from the Secondaries around me.
Most of them are curious.
Some terrified.
A few angry.
Though if this was a recipe for an attack, most of them would be anxious and giddy.
I settle onto the couch and lace my fingers together.
I won't rule out that I will be attacked at some point.
But it's safe to say it won't be now.
I keep my eyes to myself as the chatter slowly picks up around the room.
No one speaks to me.
No one approaches me.
But they watch me.
Oh, do they watch me.
Their emotions flicker and change and my mind sorts through and places every one before moving on to the next.
It's a defensive, primal technique but I've been doing it for so long I barely notice.
More often than not, thoughts are driven by emotion.
Therefore, to know your opponent's emotions is half the battle.
I make my way through the room.
The emotions are all the same.
Fear. Curiosity. Fear again. Envy.
But I'm stopped cold when I pick up an emotion I'm not expecting.
Desire. Then longing.
They're both strong.
I lift my gaze, searching for the Secondary feeling these.
My eyes collide with a man on the other side of the room.
He doesn't seem at all ashamed by his staring and a soft smile touches his lips.
There's an almost... familiarly to it.
The emotions intensify as he stands from his seat and starts making his way over to me.
They're so strong, in fact, that they remind me of the way my human feels towards me.
My eyes sweep over his torso.
He's tall, perhaps an inch shorter than me.
His thick, blonde hair bounces as he walks and his bright eyes catch the glow of the lights above him.
If he was a human, he'd be a year or two older than my human.
Mid-twenties, perhaps.
But such a thought is deceiving.
Since he's a Secondary, he could be hundreds of years old by now.
I stand just before he reaches me and straighten my spine.
His longing is so strong I can almost feel it for myself.
"Who are you?" I ask cautiously.
The man's smile widens.
He shakes his head and laughs softly under his breath.
"You never were one for small talk. Always right to the point. I guess some things don't change?"
The affection in his voice is palpable.
His blue eyes look over every inch of my face, before he hesitantly brings up his hand in introduction.
"I'm Gabe," he finally says.
"I was your fiancé."
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benefits1986 · 1 year ago
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12:21//21
I miss you everyday, but not today... not. 
And just like that, you’re celebrating your 11th birthday in heaven. Just like that you’re nowhere near me, but at the same time, I feel you and I are closer. Just like that... It’s been 11 years since I hugged you before letting you go, physically, mother dragon. I still remember how my overactive imagination told me to check your heartbeat once more after 8 or so hours of breathing your last breath. Ganun pala ‘yun noh? The instant that your pulse hits zero, biglang lamig na ng buong katawan. Or baka, ganun lang ‘yung case mo. Here I am penning this while I should be downing lunch which is not shabby ---lato salad, kinilaw na isda, liempo, and the works. But, not today. Not this lunchtime. In between heavy breaths and strained tears, I miss you more and more.  I still fantasize about what could have been if you’re with me. No tats, todo updates, full blown mom-daughter fights... but, also, the time I can come home early or late and nudge you. We’re not huggers but losing you allowed me to hug people more often than I’d like to. Speaking of hugs, though they may be far and few, your hug is home, my only home, I guess. Gah. Tears are welling up and there’s another lump in my throat. LUNCH TIME TODAY. OKAY.  Dad was the one who reminded me that today is YOUR DAY. UGH. Pero syempre, grown up na ako, and I promised myself to make this June 2023 a curious one. LOL. My eye has been twitching a bit more because of too much screen time, but, I am not complaining. Mom, you are never forgotten. In the same manner, I choose not to remember the bad, the ugly, the loss, the damage. This time, I’d want my memories to be filled with the good, the beautiful, the calmness, the surrender. UGH. Hahahahaha. Pakkk. My character development na po ba tayong tunay? Totoo ba?  The past weeks have been very, very curious. Siguro, way mo na rin ito ng pagsasabi sa akin na, anak, tama na. Tigil mo na drama na matagal mo ng bitbit. And that, you are doing a good job there in heaven. Ma, bakit wala ka na kasi. You could have seen Vici, Vidi and KD grow up. Kung gusto mo nga ng apo, baka bigyan pa kita. 2 pa. LOL. Hala. :D Maaaaaa, I miss your nags the most; though, I abhor them talaga. Maaaa, are you proud of me ba? Malamang saks lang as always. Malamang, good but can be better. Always.  May I continue to choose AKO NAMAN. May I no longer live in the past. May I let go of all the burden I’ve inflicted on myself just because I let you go 11 years ago. Thank you for guiding me, non-stop; even when I am turning a blind eye and a deaf ear. Thank you for always saving me, especially when I put myself to free fall. I guess, it’s my way of getting closer and closer to you.  12:37 na. It’s still a long day and night. I hope that when I visit your grave this weekend, I’d be able to see the other side with calmness, with respect and with more hope that I can make it. We can make it. Hug me in my dreams and stop that RBF and sneer. Ikaw ang OG bully ng buhay ko pero thank you na rin kasi ang taas na ng tolerance ko sa bullies. LOL.  Maaaaa, may everyday be a day of failing forward. May our story be told to our audience of one. May I heal fully as I allow myself to connect with this universe as I come face to face with death. For now, may I choose to keep living. :D Opakkkk. Gagi ka. Ansakit pa rin. Ansakit-sakit pa rin talaga. Bakit ganun? Heatbreak levels 100000000000000 yarn???  But, this June 2023 is a different one. I just know it is.  Okay, 12:41 na. Tama na muna thought fart na ‘to. Inom muna ako... ng tubig. LOL. Need to be hydrated because pimples are saying hello, once again!  I love you. Always.  Sana matupad na wish kong second mom na for real. :D 
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago
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I've Told You Now - Lee Bodecker smut
The one where Lee seduced his sister's babysitter.
Warnings: smut, dubcon, age gap, innocence kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity, blood
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @slothspaghettiwrites! You were the biggest reason I fell for Lee and it was only appropriate I wrote you this! I only hope it doesn't disappoint! Special thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog who helped me believe this was good enough to be posted! @sweeterthanthis also has a big hand at this!
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Y/N’s P.O.V.
I was finishing packing up the toys in the living room when I heard the door slam, startling me into dropping the box of legos on the ground. Looking at the clock, I considered the time before looking back at the hall again. When no one appears from the hallway, I get confused. If the Hendersons hadn’t come home earlier than they intended, who else could it be?
“Waiting for me, bunny?” I immediately straightened out at the sight of Sheriff Bodecker, trying to resist the urge not to flush and keep eye contact, but ultimately failing to do so. I hadn’t seen him since the night he offered to give me a ride home and I ended up with his cock in my throat, his cum in my mouth.
“I-I didn’t even know you were coming.” Silence followed my confession as he slowly approached, eyes never leaving my body while I tried to keep myself up. He’d always had this effect on me. I remembered being a young girl and Sheriff Bodecker being the crush I knew was too old to be mine, the guy I’d never have even in a million years, but that didn’t stop me from daydreaming about him.
If I thought that maybe having him would help this infatuation disappear, it’d become clear by now that it wouldn’t be the case at all.
“And here I was, thinking you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” The Sheriff tsked, and the sound went straight to my already dampened underwear. I couldn’t process his words very well, given how close he was and how loud my own heartbeat was ringing in my ears. Did he mean to say that he actually really wanted me?
“If that was really the case,” he taunted, circling me like I was some sort of prey. “You’d always be expecting me, wouldn’t you? But it’s alright, honey. You know why?” When I shook my head, he answered his own question, a single finger running down my jaw to guide me to look him in the eye. “Because I think you were expecting me. You’re always expecting me, looking for me wherever you go, just like I do. And there’s an easy way to prove my theory.”
Before I could question it, his arms embraced me from behind, hands slowly running down my stomach until they reached the edge of my skirt. I started sweating in anticipation. I knew what he would find.
“Let me check.” His fingers went over the fabric first, and he chuckled when he noticed how wet it was. “Would you look at that?” I was already trembling when he pulled my panties to the side and ran that same digit over my lower lips, just lightly grazing them. “Soaked already.”
Although I couldn’t see it, the humming sound he emitted after taking his fingers from under my dress didn’t leave me any doubt about what he did with the moisture he collected. Just the thought of him enjoying my taste that much had me weak in the knees, and I tried to keep myself up by reaching for a chair nearby.
Lee’s P.O.V.
I chuckled to myself at how sensitive she was, barely able to keep up with the little I’d done so far. Then again, it was clear I had a particularly strong effect on her. That had been obvious for a while, ever since she started working for my sister, probably - around the same age her womanly features began to stand out.
She seemed unable to look me directly in the eyes, always averting her gaze and biting her lower lip when I decided to stop around here for a coffee or check in on the little rugrat. I began doing this a lot more often after she was hired, but neither her nor my sister seemed to connect the dots.
Her innocence, her beauty just left me so fucking hard. I was hard right then, and I wanted her to know it. So I pressed my body against her back, lightly grinding my member against the curve of her ass.
“I suppose you’re finished for the day,” I speculated, knowing once the kid was out all she had to do was wait for my sister and her husband to arrive. “Guess I can help you unwind…”
She gasped when she felt my hardness, making me chuckle. “Your sister and her husband should be back soon…” She tried to reason, but I wasn’t having any of it.
“We’ll be quiet anyway. Can’t risk waking up the kid.” I gripped her wrist and pulled her on the direction of the guest bedroom, now fully unable to control myself. I was so close to having what I had wanted for so long.
She looked unsure of herself as I closed the door behind us, and I raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.
“I-I don’t know about this…” Chuckling, I approached her to cradle her face between my hands and deposit a kiss on those sweet lips.
“Don’t you trust me, pretty girl?” I had caught her now, we both knew it. She’d never risk disappointing or offending me, so when her mouth opened to explain herself and I raised an eyebrow in warning, it was only a matter of seconds until she closed it altogether and nodded, her eyes dropping to her feet.
“Yes, I do.” My smirk was full of victory, and I could taste it in my lips now. It was as sweet as the nectar between her legs I’d only had a taste of.
“There you go.” Approaching her once more, I settled my hands on her hips before leaning to kiss her shoulder. “Besides…” I continued, already bunching up her dress to get rid of it as quickly as possible. “You obviously need me to take care of you and this little wet hole.”
She bucked when my fingers rubbed her this time, dress already forgotten on the floor as I slowly shoved down the fabric of her underwear to join it. Once she was completely naked, I ran my digits over her cunt, verifying that her wetness was already so overwhelming that it was threatening to drip from her.
“So sweet.” I hummed once I wrapped my lips around those digits, tasting her on my tongue again. Yes, I was already obsessed. I think anyone who had the chance to try her nectar would understand my situation - but no one ever would.
She was mine now, and I would never let her go.
“C’mon, bunny.” Patting her ass, I directed her to the bed, chuckling at how embarrassed she seemed, being this exposed to my hungry gaze. “Be a good girl and spread your legs. Be my little angel, won’t you?”
I wished I could have done this somewhere more private - my own house, instead of my sister’s. But I just couldn’t wait anymore. My cock twitched inside my pants. I felt like I was drunk on this, drunk on her.
“C’mon, honey!” I repeated, lightly slapping the outside of her thigh. “I wanna fuck you. And I know you want to be mine, pretty girl. You can’t hide it from me.”
When she finally relented and slowly parted her beautiful legs for me, I nearly melted at the sight. Driven by my desire, I unbuckled my belt and worked to whip my cock out as quickly as possible, smirking at the wide, innocent eyes that settled on my member as I fisted it in preparation.
“Doesn’t it look good?” I teased, climbing on the bed to take my spot between her legs, rubbing the head of my dick against her slit. “I’m gonna have you taste it next time. But for now…”
Resting my forehead against hers, I slowly started to penetrate her tight pussy, slipping only the head at first, even though I was aching to fuck her throughly.
“This is gonna hurt a little,” I warned, not able to stop mid-way to let her adjust but keeping my invasion of her maidenhood slow until I had bottomed out inside of her. “Sh…” I tried to calm her, gently wiping away the few tears running down her soft cheeks. “I know it hurts, bunny. But you can take it, can’t you?”
She managed to nod despite her whimpers, and I brushed her tears away as I warned her, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”
It took a little while, but at last, she opened her eyes and I waited until she was able to focus them on me again. “You look so pretty, bunny…” I whispered, kissing her while I finally started to move inside of her, stopping only to moan out loud at her overwhelming tightness.
“I’m gonna train you until all you can think about is my cock,” I warned her, slowly pulling out until only the head of my cock was keeping her open.
“I can’t wait any longer.” Slamming my dick all the way in, I felt her nails running down my back, leaving trails of blood behind - trails I wouldn’t mind wearing under my shirt, sting as they might.
“I promise you, honey…” I panted, sweat already dripping from my forehead onto her pretty face. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m not inside of you.”
I kissed her cheek, rubbing my nose against it as she held me tightly against her. “I know you don’t want any of those boys you used to go to school with touching what I’ve already taken.”
She nodded quickly, my pretty little honey. Yes, she was mine already and she knew it. “It’s alright, pretty girl…” I soothed her as she started to whine, her cunt clenching deliciously around me. “It’s alright, cum with me…”
She closed her eyes when she met bliss, but I kept mine wide open so I wouldn’t miss her perfect expression of pleasure. It was almost enough to keep me hard, but I wasn’t as young as I once was.
I never pulled out of her tight heaven, keeping her body snuggled against me. I was happy that I decided to be patient, if it meant I now got to have her like this.
“I hope you know that you’re mine now, bunny.”
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mercy-burning · 3 years ago
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Honeybee
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰
———
Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.
Truly, it was pathetic.
Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.
Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.
At least, I thought I was.
And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.
I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?
Honestly? I blame the FBI.
If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...
Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.
Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...
I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.
He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.
Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.
Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.
"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."
Fuck. That fucking nickname...
"Spencer... It has."
When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.
I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.
Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.
Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.
"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"
I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."
Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."
How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.
Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."
"N— I am not!"
"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"
"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."
I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.
"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."
He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.
I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.
———
All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.
He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.
That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.
Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.
In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.
I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.
And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.
I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.
"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.
"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.
And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.
I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...
But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."
I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"
"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."
I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.
The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.
When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.
"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."
I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.
"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.
Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.
———
And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.
It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.
On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.
So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...
Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?
Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.
Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."
I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."
"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.
I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."
With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."
"Well, good. You deserve it."
After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.
And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"
"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."
"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."
There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."
"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"
"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.
"Am I wrong?"
"I... I don't..."
"Ha! I'm not wrong!"
The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.
"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"
I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"
There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."
"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"
"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"
"What, you think I'd joke about that?"
Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.
"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.
Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."
I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."
She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."
I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.
———
I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.
I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.
Later today... Whatever.
The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.
Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.
A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.
Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.
Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."
I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."
"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."
"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"
His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.
Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.
"Are you... gonna let me in?"
The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.
Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.
And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.
And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.
Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.
Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.
"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"
He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."
"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."
That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.
Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."
Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.
Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.
He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.
Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.
But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.
Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.
His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"
As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."
"Fair... But still..."
Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.
And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."
I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.
Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)
"Spencer, please..."
I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.
Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...
God, and those was only his hands...
The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.
I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.
"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."
What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.
He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.
Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.
No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.
I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.
Now I didn't have to imagine.
Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...
I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.
So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.
"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.
I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.
He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"
I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."
Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.
And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.
Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.
"Promise not to sting me?"
I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."
"Deal."
He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.
It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.
That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.
His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.
Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.
His name was all I could manage.
"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.
"M—More... I..."
"Can you be more specific?"
How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.
I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.
"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.
My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.
I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.
By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.
Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."
I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."
He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."
"I... Is that a bad thing?"
"It's a strange thing..."
He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."
With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"
Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."
"I was highly amused."
I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."
Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.
"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.
Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."
"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.
"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."
He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.
"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."
Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.
All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
"I know you won't, Honeybee."
———
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silver-tongued-bby · 3 years ago
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Devotion - Part I
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Pairing: Dark!Loki x Nun!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dark!Loki fic and it explores sexual and dark religious (catholic) themes, including mind control (paralysis), loss of faith, oral sex (m and f receiving), loss of virginity, knife play, blood play, dirty talk, a dom/sub relationship, and general blasphemy. Read at your own risk!!
Words: 3,668
Summary: You chose to devout yourself to God. But did you choose the right one?
A/N: If there is a hell, I think I'll be going straight to it for this one. Please remember this is a work of fiction- if you take issue with the themes mentioned above, please do not interact.
...
It was late when you finished your prayers- much later than usual. You’d stayed by the chancel, kneeling on the soft velvet of the hassock well beyond the sunset, your Sisters excusing themselves one by one. The votive candles were mostly out by the time you stood on shaky legs, the feeling slowly coming back to them as you extinguished the remaining flames.
You sighed, hoping that the twelve hours of prayer today would be enough to rid yourself of the dream. Walking behind the altar, you turned off the lights. Things were still somewhat illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight coming through the stained glass.
Moving back around the altar towards the nave you stopped, seeing the outline of a figure before you, your heartbeat in your ears as you held a palm to your chest. You tilted your head, blinking furiously in the darkness, attempting to make sense of the form. It looked like a person- a man, standing by the open doors. Must be a trick of the light, you thought as you squinted in an attempt to make out the tall shadow.
Sighing, you gingerly stepped down the altar’s carpeted stairs to slowly approach the form, keeping your eyes on it. Suddenly, you stopped, the hairs standing on end at the back of your neck. This was how the dream started. A figure- a dark figure is what you’d see before it would float towards you, wrapping you up in its darkness and consuming you whole. You’d wake gasping for air, your eyes wet with tears.
You took a deep breath, chastising yourself for your foolishness. You were awake, and the dark mass in front of you was likely a shadow from outside, or the coat rack, or the monstrance- Sister Anne always left the monstrance out after she buffed it.
Shaking your head, you stepped down onto the cold stone floor. Then you thought you saw the figure move. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you stopped once more, trying to make out the shapes in the shadow. You attempted to calm yourself down- you were awake, this wasn’t a dream. Besides, in the dream you always heard that laugh- the dark, velvety laugh ringing out in the silence. There was no laugh now.
You pinched yourself for good measure, nodding when you felt the pain, ensuring that this was not a dream. Huffing, you decided to speed-walk down the nave, your steps ringing out as you approached the shadow.
You were about four paces away when you finally saw the glint of two eyes in the moonlight. You gasped and scrambled backwards, the figure before you now clear.
“At last.” A voice- the voice from your dream. It was deep, dark velvet ringing out through the silence. A sliver of moonlight was hitting two green eyes, illuminating pale skin and a dark brow. You could see the inky, black hair that fell around his face in waves.
You were stunned, and wanted so desperately to turn and run but you couldn’t bring your body to move. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound came out, just like the dream. You began reciting The Apostles Creed in your mind, attempting to calm yourself and awake from whatever this was.
The familiar deep chuckle hit your ears. “Your prayer falls on deaf ears, little one. As they always have.” He stepped closer, then slowly circled your paralysed form.
Undeterred, you kept praying, shouting each word within your mind at the presence before you.
A hand came to grip your face firmly, long fingers digging into your delicate skin. “No more of that, little one.” With that, your thoughts were silenced. Held in place like the rest of you.
Your breath was loud against the silence, shaky puffs coming in and out as the entity observed you. You were struck by the beauty of this presence, his chiseled face more breathtaking than the paintings of Christ. He stood tall, before you, lithe figure covered in a crisp black suit.
“Your god has long since abandoned you. All of you, worshipping an entity who simply flicked the switch to humanity, who left once the beginnings had been set in motion.” He let his hand fall from your face and circled you once more.
“Yet you continue to pray, to worship, to adore him. And this Jesus Christ you vow yourself to,” he laughed pitifully, “a mortal. Long gone.”
“So much work, so much devotion, to an absent god. A god who cannot solve your problems, empower you, or answer your prayers.” He stopped in front of you and reached to pull at the veil covering your head, letting it drop to the floor. Tears were welling up in your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“Beautiful,” he breathed against your ear, “what god would ask for such beauty to be hidden away, like a dirty, little secret? What god would tell their most devout followers to vow themselves to never be touched,” he lightly traced your cheekbone with his knuckle, “be pleasured by another?”
His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you felt the hold on you release. “You may answer,” he watched you as you blinked and shivered, a tear falling down either of your heated cheeks.
“You can’t know that- that He isn’t with us,” you frowned at him, your voice small.
He gave you a pitying look, his head tilting slightly. “Oh but I do, little one. And so do you.” He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding you darkly. “You prayed to your god for twelve hours this day, ten hours each day before. I heard you. I watched you.”
Your eyes widened. How could he have known? How long has he been watching you?
“A long time, little one. I heard you praying to your god to take away the dream I sent you. The dream foretelling you of my arrival.” He circled you again, leaning in to speak close- so close to your ear. You shivered. He could read your thoughts.
His mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement before he continued. “If your god is with you, why did he not answer your prayers and protect you from me?”
“I- He must be testing me,” you said, the tears still falling.
“If your god is here with us, why is he not striking me down for standing on his ground? Speaking such blasphemy, in his own house?”
“I- I don’t know,” you said, a quiet sob shaking you. You felt alone, scared, and lost. If He was not with you, how could you carry on devoting yourself to Him? Was any of this His will? Or were all the rituals, the sacraments, fabricated by man?
You’d been having doubts for a while- since the dreams started. Instead of opening up to your sisters about it you held your tongue. Saying it out loud would have made it all so real. As it is now.
“Hush now, little one. Tears won’t do a thing.” He touched under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
You felt defeated and betrayed by the cause you’d so devoted yourself to. Pointless. What were you to do now? Without your faith you had nothing, no one.
“You started down the wrong path.” His eyes were locked with yours, a glint of something beneath the blue-green. “I can help you correct it. Worship me, and I’ll hear your prayers. Devote yourself to me, and I’ll answer them. Adore me,” he brushed his finger tips across your lips, “and I’ll empower you.”
You felt a thrill with his words, his actions, and his darkening stare. “What must I do?” You asked, your heart racing.
“Get on your knees.”
You knelt in front of him, bowing your head to his towering form, your hands clasped together in your lap.
“Eyes on me. Always.” He said, and you brought your face up to meet his stare. Before you were fully aware of what was happening he’d taken himself out, his hardened member before you.
Your eyes widened at it- you’d never seen a phallus up close in person. The vow you took promised yourself to your lord. You weren’t even supposed to touch a man, and had stuck to that for the majority of your life. You were nervous, unsure of what to do, how to please this dark entity before you. You also realised you’d never even asked him his name.
He chuckled darkly. “I am known to many as Loki, but you may call me Master. Now, bring yourself closer to me.” You leant forward. “Good. Open your mouth, little one.”
You did as you were told and he laid his thick member over your tongue, the taste of his skin salty, his heady scent enveloping you.
“Use your lips and tongue to worship me. Show me your devotion,” he angled his hips forward so more of his length filled your mouth.
You kept your eyes on his as you started to run your tongue along him, pursing your lips slightly. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat, which made you gag, tears springing to your eyes.
“Relax, little one. Breathe through your nose,” you did as you were told, consciously relaxing the muscle at the back of your throat. You found you could take him further, more of him pressing into you as your saliva dribbled around your lips.
“Good,” his voice sounded deeper, a small edge to it. He grasped your head, his nails lightly scraping against your scalp, bringing a little hum from you at the sensation. He twitched at that, and you took note, humming and groaning around him as he began to move you back and forth over his length.
His lips were apart as he moved you over him, his eyes running over your features. The lustful approval of his gaze made your heart flutter, and your core ache. You were so pleased to serve him, to have a God you could so tangibly show your devotion to. You wanted him to use you, use your body and soul for his pleasure.
He grunted, teeth clenched as his grip against your scalp became harsher. His hips stuttered and he groaned, his warm essence spilling into your mouth and down your throat. You were filled with pride to receive his seed, eagerly swallowing and revelling in the taste. You cleaned him off, his length remaining hard as he watched you work below him.
“Very good, little one.” He removed his hands from your scalp, gently brushing the hollows of your cheeks as you continued to suck his length. “What do you say after such a gift?” He asked.
You let him fall from your mouth, licking your lips. “Thank you, Master.” You said breathlessly.
He nodded at you in approval then motioned you to stand from the cool stone floors. You stood on shaky legs and he held up one hand, palm upwards. You tentatively put your hand in his and he gripped it lightly as he guided you towards the altar.
Once up the steps, he turned to you and in a flash of green he held a dagger. He hooked the blade into your tunic, tearing the fabric as he brought it downwards. The linen opened to expose the virginal white of your underwear. He pushed the cloth off your shoulders, letting the tunic fall to the ground. He did the same with your underwear, tearing the soft white fabric of your bra and panties to shreds, leaving you naked before the altar. He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it before disappearing it in another flash of green.
“Present yourself to me,” his eyes were busy running over your exposed skin.
“Yes Master,” you said, moving up against the altar before settling upon it and spreading your legs, exposing yourself to the cool air. You laid back, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes. Remembering all the times you’d prayed staring up at this altar made you ache for your new Master, needing him to feel your worship.
“So wet and needy for me,” he brushed a knuckle over your heat, forcing a shudder from you. “Though since it’s your first time, I will ready your body to take me.”
“Thank you Master,” you said again, resting on your elbow so you could maintain his gaze.
He smirked at you and bent a knee to bring his face closer to your heat. Your muscles twitched in anticipation as he lowered his gaze to your wet heat, his hands sliding up from your calves to your thighs, stopping so they could grip your tightly.
“Have you ever been touched here by another, little one? Kissed?” He asked, his breath ghosting over your heat.
You swallowed, shaking your head. “No, Master. N-never.”
“So pure,” his eyes ran over you before capturing your gaze once more. “Have you ever touched yourself here?”
You cast your eyes downwards, “yes, Master.” You whispered, feeling shame bubble within you, your face hot.
His hands tightened around your thighs. “Look at me,” he commanded, and you quickly met his gaze. “Never feel ashamed for taking your pleasure. Worship me through it. Give into your pleasure, give into me.” He licked a slow stripe up your folds, and you cried out, your back arching against the hard wood of the altar.
From the angle of your gaze you could see the crucifix, inverted at your position. Blinking your eyes up at the sculpture of Christ, you felt your Master’s tongue swirl over your bundle of nerves and you moaned, still gazing up at the crucifix, as if you were expecting it to come to life.
You heard a low chuckle. “I told you. He’s long gone, little one.” Your brow furrowed- you still felt your Master’s tongue over your centre, hot and wet. How could you hear him?
“Look at me,” you heard his voice once more and pulled yourself up on your elbows to meet his icy gaze as he dipped a finger within you, causing you to shudder. “Do not question. Surrender,” he curled the finger on a spot that had you seeing stars, “surrender to me.”
You nodded, licking your dry lips as you panted. You were close. His hand was pressing hard into your thigh, while the other was quickly moving in and out of you, his tongue moving in tandem. “Let me feel your euphoria, little one. Let me drink it from your very soul.”
It was all so much, the feel of his fingers within you, the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive part. You were lightly moaning, the sound of your voice and his ministrations echoing off the stone of the church. His eyes were cold steel, demanding your gaze as he steadily stoked the fire within you, the flames licking at your skin.
“Oh! Oh my…” you trailed off, “God.” He finished darkly, and you came undone, writhing against the altar. As you rode out the waves of your high you whispered, “thank you Master,” over and over in prayer, your eyes slipping to those of blue-green below.
“Very good, little one. You’re ready to take me now. To feel me deep within you.” He pulled his fingers from you and stood, eyes roaming over your naked form. He ran one finger, wet with your excitement down from the hollow of your throat to the soft tufts of hair between your legs and you shivered, the cool air kissing the trail he’d left.
Smirking down at you he gripped himself, coming closer to run the head of his length up against your dripping core. You inhaled sharply, your hand gripping the wood of the altar below.
“You were built for worship. Body and soul,” he spoke, his voice rough. He slowly pushed in an inch, your channel tight around him. You squirmed, feeling a sharp pain as he continued to push in.
“Relax. Deep breath, little one.” You did as you were told, filling your lungs with air and he slid the rest of the way in on your exhale. The pain turned sharper still, and you whined, your breaths quick and pained.
“That’s it. Don’t cry,” he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It will feel better soon. But I need you to feel the pain. I need you to feel me stretch you, to feel me break you.” His eyes went to the skin where your bodies met, where he was stretching you, holding still while you desperately tried to relax your muscles, your nails digging into the wood of the altar.
He brought his hand down, swiping around your folds. Bringing his fingers before you, you could see they were wet with slick and bright red with your blood. He brought his fingers to your lips and swiped them over your tender skin. He bent to kiss you, his tongue running along your lips. He hummed at the taste before kissing you deeply, the metallic-tinged taste lingering in your mouth.
He started to move his hips, pulling back out of you before coming forward. Your back arched, the pain mingling with some deep sort of pleasure as he began setting a pace. He moved to whisper foreign words over the shell of your ear.
You felt a warmth wash over you, the pain slipping away with it, leaving the pleasure. He came away from you, standing back up to his full height as he looked at you, his head tilted. “Does that feel better, little one?”
“Yes, Master,” you moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. His hands gripped either side of your waist, long fingers pressing into the skin as he continued to move with you.
“That’s it little one, worship me as I fuck you. Worship me as I taint you.” He continued to thrust into you, the stained glass windows of the church framing his dark figure. He gave a little flick with his fingers in the air and you felt a pressure on you- similar to finger tips, gently rubbing at your clitoris. You cried out, and he bent forward to clasp his fingers over your wrists, pulling them upwards to hold them firmly on the altar over your head as he continued to thrust within you.
You were writhing against him, the soft, woven material of his suit rubbing up against your sensitive skin, the phantom touch still continuing below. He was grinning at you, the glint in his eyes that of pure sin as he watched you lose control. You came fully undone beneath him, giving in to the pleasure he was wringing from your body, every nerve alit with it. Your vision blurred slightly but you kept your eyes open, his smirk taunting you as you came thanking him at the top of your lungs.
The touch below had continued as you rode out your orgasm, coming back in full force once your breath settled. He moved to grip your wrists with one hand, the other coming to firmly grasp your jaw, pushing your face to the side. You felt his tongue against the shell of your ear and you cried out at the sensation. He chuckled lowly before taking your earlobe between his teeth, marring the flesh then running his tongue over the heated skin. Your breaths were quick puffs, your chest rising against his as he continued to nip, bite and lick at your skin.
“You will cum once more, little one. Cum for your Master and I will reward you,” he nipped at your earlobe once more, “I’ll fill you little one. Would you like that?” His voice was divine, the dark tone of it bending you to his every will.
“Y-yes please, Master, please fill me,” you stuttered, your hips arching towards his thrusts, angling you slightly off the altar.
He chuckled once more, “good. Now, little one,” he licked the skin beneath your earlobe, “cum now.” With that he bit you- you could feel his teeth break the skin of your neck as you moaned, the pain mingling with the pleasure sharply bringing your release. The pleasure electrified you, you couldn’t keep your body still as it fully overtook your every sense, clouding your vision.
As if it were far away you heard your Master moan. His muscles tensed against you, and you felt him twitch within you. As your breath returned he pulled out of you, stepping backwards to admire your form.
He smirked and brought two fingers to your dripping hole, swirling them in the wet there. Removing them, he traced a line down your chest in the slick, forcing a shudder from you.
He connected the vertical line with one horizontal, painting a cross over your breasts. You flinched when his fingers skimmed across your nipples, your body still overstimulated.
“Perfect,” he breathed, his hand moving to close his trousers.
His eyes falling back to you, he held a hand out towards you. You took it and he guided you to stand, the cum dripping down the insides of your thigh.
He snapped his fingers and suddenly you were clothed in a tight fitting tunic, the neckline low and the colour a rich emerald green. A golden pendant hung between your breasts, a small, detailed snake on the end with emeralds for eyes. You could still feel the cold wet slick on your chest and between your legs- he hadn’t given you any underwear. “That will do,” he nodded, “very fitting of a high priestess.”
He swiftly turned on his heel, heading down the steps and down the nave. Your heart beat loud and fast in your ears as you watched him walk away, unsure if he wanted you to follow. Stopping at the final pew he turned, long fingers of one hand beckoning you.
“Come along. You have work to do, little one.”
Part II here.
End Notes: There will be a part 2! Keep your eyes peeled- let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list.
I apologise if I got some aspects of the church wrong- I spent some time researching but I am in no way an expert.
Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.
And as always, thank you for reading!
496 notes · View notes
apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago
Note
Ok you amazing person. Demon Sapnap, but the reader is really sick or maybe is in an accident and ends up in hospital. Sapnap and Dream both visit and get jealous of eachother. Eventually Dream leaves and Sapnap is just there like 👁👄👁 And then after a day or two the reader is finally home and Sapnap is like really pent up because he has been jealous Horny and reader has been in hospital and he just rails them, but softly because reader is still weak. Basically jealous soft-dom Demon Sapnap.
This is just an idea- by no means do you have to write it :)
I'm begrudgingly writing Dre as Mr. Steal Your Girl for obvious reasons (/ j), but also I couldn't pass down this idea for incubus 3 ;) I'm also going to include a few other requests I had about Sap's backstory and some smut. enjoy!
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 & 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (𝟏𝟖+)
warnings: smut (18+), spanking, degradation, thigh riding, domination, literally quoting the b!ble
here's a playlist for those of you that were asking for it. i would love to see what the rest of you are listening to :)
previous part
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You opened your eyes slowly, the ache in your body fully coming to your attention as you noticed the metronome of beeps coming from the machines connected to the tubes in your arm. You turned your head, squinting as your eyes struggled to focus on the figure beside you. After a few minutes, your brain pieced together his features and your heart eased when you realized it was Sapnap. For some, obviously ungodly reason, his presence brought you a sense of calm.
His feet were kicked up on the edge of your bed, his eyes scanning over a magazine as he chewed on his bottom lip absent-mindedly. He was dressed more casually than he usually was, probably an attempt at blending into the general public. You reached out a hand, fingers brushing against the soft material of his dark crewneck to get his attention. His gaze moved to look at you, a smirk painting across his pink lips.
You cleared your throat, tongue feeling like sandpaper. “What happened?” You grumbled, reaching beside him for the remote to elevate your head.
He watched your movements carefully. “You got a fever and then passed out cold,” he reminded you softly, making you groan. “Dehydration.” You couldn’t remember what he was talking about, only feeling nauseous in the middle of the night.
“How long have I been here?” You asked, rolling your head on your shoulders as your neck cracked, your limbs popping as you moved slightly. The IV pinched your arm as you moved, making you hiss quietly, making his eyes focus on where it was attached.
He hummed in thought. “A few hours. They wanna keep you until tomorrow, just in case you die or something,” he shrugged, tossing the magazine on the couch in the corner of the room.
You rubbed one of your eyes, a yawn rippling through you. “And why are you here?”
He chuckled. “Obvious reasons,” he stated, nodding towards the bite on your shoulder. “Also, Saint Dream was the first on your emergency contact list, so…” You pulled your knees to your chest as you looked at him.
“Even if it’s just because you have a quota to meet, I’m glad you’re here,” you muttered and something flickered behind his eyes, a smug expression tugging at his lips.
He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, feet planted on the ground. “You’re not part of my quota, baby.” Your cheeks flushed at his words but before you could respond, he tensed up, eyes clouding with a darkened gold. They always shifted when something was intruding. You furrowed your brows at him. “Lupus in fabula venit enim ad me,” he mumbled darkly, the venom of sarcasm dripping from his voice as a knock came at your door.
Clay stuck his head through the threshold, eyes softening at you. Sapnap watched him silently as he stepped inside, rambling off how worried he was about you. Clay seemed to ignore Sapnap’s presence as he settled a batch of roses on your nightstand. Sapnap rolled his eyes and once Clay finally acknowledged him, he made a face like he was smelling something rotten. Sapnap looked like he was ready to snap Clay in half if he approached you closer, yet his dark demeanor didn’t dissuade Clay. In fact, it seemed like Clay was hell-bent on ruffling his feathers more, pulling up a chair on the other side of you.
“I didn’t think he would be here,” Clay commented, voice dipping slightly as his sights shifted toward Sapnap, irises flashing brighter. You perked an eyebrow at him.
Sapnap scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “I’m here because she wants me here,” he commented, nearly with a boasting tone. “So, it seems like I’m in the right role to ask what the fuck you think you’re doing.” You kept silent as the two played their game of wits and egos.
Clay smirked at him as if he was in possession of some esoteric knowledge. It dawned on you that you weren’t sure how old either of them actually was. You had dated Clay for god knows how many years, yet you learned more about his past from Sapnap than you had in any of the years you were together. “It’s still in her best interest that she be given options that don’t involve your kind,” he gritted.
Sapnap laughed shortly, a cockiness settling into his appearance. “Oh yeah? In her best interest or in yours, you selfish prick.”
Clay’s jaw tensed, a sigh flooding from his nose. “We can do this more maturely, you know? Like fucking professionals.”
Sapnap shook his head. “I’m not up for negotiating,” the stated bluntly. “Go near her again and I’ll report you,” he assured, his deadpanned stare making your heartbeat quicken.
Clay swallowed, eyes glued to Sapnap’s as the pair of them flexed their dominant personalities. Clay’s eyebrow twitched as if he had thought of something, almost mockingly. “Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit,” he began, making Sapnap roll his eyes again before cutting into Clay’s quote.
“-enemy of man’s salvation. Give place to Christ in Whom you have found none of your works,” he mocked. “Try and exorcise me all you want, feather boy.”
Clay’s hand moved to curl around your wrist and Sapnap leaned against the bed, as if asking Clay to make his next move. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour-“
“Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings,” Sapnap cantered without a thought. “It’s not even the right verse for this, stupid bitch,” he grumbled.
You cleared your throat, pulling your arm away from Clay and trying not to look as if you were slinking towards Sapnap. “You should leave,” you stated, Clay’s lips pursing at your words. “I need to rest.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sapnap’s sly expression cutting into Clay.
After spending another night in the hospital, you were finally unlocking your apartment door and letting Sapnap help you out of your coat. You mumbled something about getting yourself a drink and he brushed you off, already doing it himself. Your mind was racing with questions after what you had witnessed between Clay and Sapnap. You hadn’t doubted the authenticity of Sapnap, but your mind still ran with what had happened to him. He handed you a water, sitting down on your couch as you paced slightly.
He broke into your thoughts. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking,” he stated, unbuttoning his shirt slightly. You wanted to hex him about the fact that he probably already knew what was pounding against your temples to be asked.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, rolling over your questions to censor some of them. “The bible’s been translated and reprinted so many times, how are you still…” you gestured with your hands, unable to explain where you were going with your statement.
He chuckled, brushing a hand against his chin. “It really doesn’t matter if it’s actually God’s word or not. It’s a guide, like an outline. Rules, I guess. Think about it like the Constitution.”
“I thought demons like… burned up when someone quoted the bible at them…”
His face fell a bit at this. “No, we just can’t read it,” his tone was almost regretful, sending guilt to pulse through your body because you had asked. “It’s like it’s in a completely different language, and each time I look at it, it shifts around the page. When you get dragged into hell, something happens with your eyes.” He huffed slightly, wetting his lips. “It's kind of like an isolation thing. He wants you to be completely aside from him.”
Your mind clicked, eyeing your heirloom display case. “Can I try something?” You asked, popping open one of the doors after he hummed in response. You fished out your grandmother’s rosary, the cross feeling almost heavy in your hands. You turned on your heel, bringing it closer to him before dangling it in front of him. His eyes drifted away from it, his gaze turning up to you. “Does this bug you?” You probed, making him snort. He took it in his hand, thumb caressing over the design.
He shook his head, chewing on his lip. “It’s a shameful thing really. I feel guilty whenever I look at this kind of stuff,” he muttered; you sat on the arm of his chair and looked over his shoulder. He turned, looping it around your neck. “Does it bug you?”
You held it away from your chest. “For different reasons, I guess.” You stood again, putting it back in its spot beside a photo of your grandfather. “Why’d you get kicked out?” You queried softly, peering over your shoulder.
He was watching you. “Maybe another time.”
“What about your childhood?” You asked. “Did you have one?”
“I know more about your childhood than I do my own. Why all the questions?” He countered with a soft laugh.
You shrugged. “I want to get to know you…” You mumbled, your hand drifting up to rest on your shoulder, feeling heat coming off of his scaring bite mark. “How do you know when to show up?”
He sighed, leaning his back against the chair and stretching his legs. “I can feel when you get anxious. Angels have some kind of block though, that’s why it took me so long to realize you needed me when that bastard was over here.” He shook his head almost like a new fire about Dream had been lit. His eyes flickered up to you. “Unless you weren’t scared.” You shook your head quickly at his joke. He chuckled. “How does it make you feel that I’m in your head sometimes?”
You approached him again. “Narcissistic,” you answered plainly, sinking to your knees before him. You ran your hands up his thighs, a smirk growing on his features as he sat up to be closer to you. “What happens after I die? Eternal damnation?” You questioned, as his hand went to brush against your arms.
He pressed his lips to your neck before digging his fingers into your hair as if he’d been waiting to touch you for days. You hummed as he kissed you, the slight scruff of his unshaven face feeling soft against your cheek. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. I think I’ll make you immortal or something. Being with me should be enough damnation,” he jeered, making you laugh. “Most of my colleagues take the souls of their targets and leave, but I enjoy your company,” he teased.
“But you already have my soul, right?” The line felt strange coming from your mouth.
His lips brushed against yours. “There’s still an innocent piece of you that I haven’t tapped into. Everyone has it; I like it in you.”
Your eyebrows perked at this, fingers digging into his thighs to make him groan. “What do you mean?”
He kissed you briefly, actions getting needier the longer you were between his legs. “It’s completely pure. Untampered by sin or desire. When a demon gets it, they go feral,” he mumbled, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, teeth dragging across your skin.
You tilted your head to the side, fingers tracing over his zipper. “Take it from me,” you breathed, leaning into his touch.
“No,” he answered blatantly.
You moaned as his tongue slipped against your collarbones. “I want you to have it,” you continued, voice uneven. His fingers tugged at your hair.
His breath was warm against your shoulders. “I’ll take it after a few years. I don’t want it now.”
You pushed him away from you, his eyes already blown with lust as you looked into them. “You just said demons want it so badly. Take mine.”
He chuckled, hands dropping to your jaw. “No,” he repeated, voice light.
You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with a tilted expression. “Is mine not good enough for you?”
He wheezed. “No, it’s perfect. I just… After I take it, it’s like you’re dead. You’re not the same. Your humanity is gone.” He pulled you back up towards him. “I’ll take it when I’m ready to escort you to hell.”
You quipped an eyebrow. “Oh, so you just don’t want me to see your place?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. “Maybe Clay was right. What’s the verse about confession?”
His eyes darkened playfully. “For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” It was mind boggling how he could probably quote the whole Bible and was as… sinful… as he was. “Bring up Dream again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
Your eyelashes fluttered. “You bargain for a fun game," you quipped.
He chuckled darkly. "It was more a light-hearted threat, dove," he muttered.
You sat forward and pressed your lips against his hungrily, letting him pull you into his lap as his fingers curled into the loose ends of your hair. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest to you as he tugged at your own clothing. Your teeth dragged against his lips as his hips ground up against you, needy for friction.
You pushed your tongue into his mouth, moaning as his hands moved to your thighs, his blunt nails raking against your jeans. You rolled your hips against his lap, feeling him harden beneath you. He spread his legs further, coaxing you to grind against him as his hands pushed you down to rut against his leg.
You were breathless as you pulled away from him, one of his hands fisting in your t-shirt to bring you close to him, lips and tongue pressing against your neck. "I didn't tell you to stop riding my thigh," he commented darkly, bouncing his knee to make you moan.
Your hand wrapped around the wrist of his hand holding you in place, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as heat spread across your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, your bare chest at his mercy. Your mind blurred at the sensation and the feeling of him sucking his mark into your skin, making it clear who you belonged to.
You moaned, digging your face into his neck as he rolled his hips against your leg. "Please, Sapnap. I need you," you whimpered, voice a soft whisper in his ear. He chuckled darkly, ripping your pants down your legs as you fumbled to unzip his slacks.
He pulled you onto him without warning, a groan leaving your lips as he suddenly filled you up. "Bold of you to beg for me after associating with that bastard," he bit, thrusting up into you. "I should tie you up and let you suffer for that."
You moaned at his dark tone, grinding your hips against him. Your lips ghosted against his as your cheeks began to feel warm from the stimulation. "I might like that," you jested, your sentence breaking with your voice as he harshly grabbed your hips, driving himself into you harder.
"You're lucky you're still weak," he nipped, voice swirling with lust and power. "I'd throw you over my knee for that comment." His fingers dug into your hips, grinding against you as you bounced on top of him. You moaned at his words. His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, threatening to apply pressure as he continued to direct your movements, thrusting into you at a deep and reserved pace. "Dirty girl. You want me to punish you, don't you?"
When all you could do was mutter a small beg, he pulled you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a mess of hair, teeth, and tongue. He moaned into your mouth, the taste of his breath was addictive and bliss-inducing.
He pulled you off of him and onto the couch beside him, slipping his shirt the rest of the way off. "I'll fuck the angel lover out of you," he joshed, a hand coming down sharply across your ass; the pain making you moan his name, hands gripping the couch as he pressed your shoulders into the cushion.
He dragged your hips into the air, pushing into you again, rocking his hips against yours with a small grunt. His teeth were sharp against your skin as he pounded into you and an animalistic pace, your mind numbing at the feeling. He pushed your knees further apart to pump himself deeper into you.
You moaned as his weight settled on the hand pinning you to the couch, your hair sticking to your sweaty face as he spanked you again, hand gripping your irritated skin. "Good girl. Take it," he nearly growled, making your skin crawl with an added layer of pleasure. While his pace and mannerisms were ruthless, he was definitely holding back, knowingly going easy on you because of your already weak body. That didn't mean he wasn't reminding you of your sour attitude as he pulled your arm behind your back, his hips snapping against your own to firmly instill his name in your mind.
You reached for the arm rest, a grounding element for you as his motions drove you over the edge in a teeth gritting orgasm, boy flushing with goosebumps under his command. You rocked your hips back against him as he pulled out, jerking himself off instead of giving you the satisfaction of finishing him off.
You groaned as you turned to look at him. "Feeling okay?" He asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. You shook your head quickly and his eyebrow quipped ever so slightly. "Good," he stated, pulling you up and onto the ground in front of him again. He grabbed your cheeks. "I still don't think you've learned," he muttered, leaning back into his previous position. "Blow me," he directed, tucking an arm behind his head. "And with the mouth, one confesses and is saved, remember," he taunted.
Your eyes flashed up to his devious expression as he leered at you from his commanding spot.
It was going to be a long night.
And you were ready for it.
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