#noctem clothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zaldritzosrose · 2 months ago

Text

Carpe Noctem (Modern Goth!Aemond x Goth!Reader)

Summary: Aemond enjoyed the darker side of life; the morbid, the macabre. He reflected his outside with how he looked on the inside, ignoring the unusual stares he would get from passersby. His world revolved around it, losing himself in dark and fantastical worlds...and then he met you. His real life gothic heroine.

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, gothic coded reader, gothic Aemond, dark/morbid fantasies, outdoor sex, graveyard sex, mild exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, phone sex, innuendo, profanity, (yes this is probably my truest self insert, sue me), Aemond wishes he could live in a gothic novel.

Words: 4535

Surprise I posted earlier than expected!

Happy Spooky Season! This is my second fic submission to our Fan Frankentober Event (masterlist will be found here) in collab with a few lovely moots! Head over to @fandomeventcenter for more info!

There was a darkness in Aemond. A darkness that had been left unconsidered and unloved until he had met you.

Aemond was a lover of all things macabre and morbid. It had started when he and his family had moved houses, living just a short walk from a cemetery. Horror stories had always fascinated him. Tales told to scare around a campfire or in a darkened room. Stories meant to get the heart racing and the hairs to stand tall on the neck.

The older he got, the deeper he delved. Collections of stories, ranging from the well-known classics to lesser-known fables, lined the walls of his room.

His interests soon followed. His music reflected his darker curiosities, from haunting musical classics to heavier, grungier sounds of heavy metal and gothic rock. And his clothing choices followed not long after, modelling himself after his favourite artists and horror icons. Even covering his injured eye – a mishap in his childhood – with a bespoke leather eyepatch.

Aemond lived his life by the darkness he always felt within.

You had always felt a little outcasted, though some of it was self-inflicted. You preferred solitude, with the only company being the fantastical beings within the pages of your favourite books.

Your love of art and photography helped you channel the morbidity within into something beautiful. Wandering around derelict buildings and darkened graveyards. Styling your images after the scenes in your novels.

Holding an affinity for the tragic heroines and broken damsels in your books, you began to create art of yourself. Posing for timer taken photos in intricate costumes. Collating the photos and creating your very own spooky, fantastical online presence.

That’s where he found you. He had joined the site to follow his favourite authors, artists and musicians. Simply to immerse himself further into the world he enjoyed.

He had been scrolling through posts, mindlessly passing time while his siblings bickered about something or other. And there you were.

It was like you had been pulled from one of the novels on his shelf. The layers of lace that draped over your body, the red as deep as freshly spilled blood. Makeup dark and deathly. Before Aemond knew it, he’d opened your page. Trawling through photo after photo, slowly getting lost in the dark, ethereal draw you seemed to hold.

After weeks of keeping himself updated with your posts, he decided he had to know you. No matter what happened, he had to try.

Tentatively, he opened his messages and, inspired by your ‘Spooky Season’ posts most recently, he chose one of his favoured quotes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

“I have crossed oceans of times to find you…your work is beautiful, almost as beautiful as you.”

Aemond could feel his heart beating hard enough he feared it might burst from his chest. Was that too weird? Was he too forward? Would you find him creepy?

There wasn’t much he could do now; the message was out there and deleting it would be even more suspicious.

So, he waited.

Your phone dinged and the message notification surprised you. A message from the username ‘truetooneanother’. You instinctively checked the profile first; it wouldn’t be the first time a stranger had messaged you in response to a photoshoot. Most were harmless, but you were always cautious.

A quick scroll showed almost exactly what you expected from a Frankenstein inspired username. Aesthetic pleasing images of books, his cat, shots out music gigs and records. Even a mix of beautiful photographs of what you guess was where he lived – perfectly framed images of graveyards, lakes, and some of the most gorgeous gothic architecture you had ever laid your eyes on.

But what you wanted, was a picture of whoever this stranger with classic horror knowledge was. And some deeper scrolling came up with your prize. One of few shots of your mystery messenger. A posed photo lit by what you guess was a fireplace or candles. The profile of his face was in main focus, and you were sure you could see what looked like an eyepatch, maybe?

A couple more scrolls and you found a full image of his face and you could have sworn your jaw dropped just a little. There was just something about him that had you intrigued.

Immediately, you reopened his message.

“That’s very kind of you, and how did you manage to choose one of my favourite literary quotes?”

You hit send and waited. Soon, you could see that he had read your message. You were surprised that you felt a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You had never been like this over a stranger online before. But when your phone pinged again to say he’d sent a message, you were chewing your lip in excitement.

“Because it is my favourite, I can’t count how many times I’ve read Dracula. And your last post inspired it, you looked like you’d fallen from one of its pages.”

You could feel the blush on your cheeks. No one had ever spoken to you that way. Complimenting you without making you feel uncomfortable. Most comments or direct messages were failed attempts at flirting, sexual innuendo or just downright creepiness.

This time it felt different.

“Classic horror is one of my greatest inspirations, everything in those books is pure darkness and fantasy…making it real is a passion. Can I ask your name?”

There was something about the words he chose, the way he wrote his messages that gave you butterflies. How could you be so fascinated about someone you didn’t know?

“Aemond. May I ask yours?”

“Then you manage it perfectly, it suits you.”

Those two messages only made you blush deepen. Why was he having such an effect on you?

You gave him your name, feeling the heat radiating of your cheeks as he continued to compliment you – almost poetically.

You and Aemond continued to talk, moving your messaging from you social media to giving out your phone number. Those messages soon turned to phone calls, his voice bordering on hypnotic. You could barely get enough.

His phone calls were as poetic as his messages. The gentle timbre to his voice would sink into your mind and settle there.

A few more weeks and those phone calls became video chats. Hours spent talking about books, music, films. Where your favourite places were to photograph – for you it was where to set your shoots, for Aemond it was the places he wanted to create art from.

It wasn’t long before things turned a little more…x rated.

Behind the scenes pictures of your photography outings, showing off the variety of corsets, barely there lace dresses you would don for your ideas.

This was how you’d found out Aemond also enjoyed fencing. It was both expected and unexpected. When you’d learned his surname, you realised he came from a pretty well known Westerosi family, so higher class pursuits weren’t too far out of the question.

But the picture he had sent this morning, post training but pre-shower…

It had set your whole body on fire. Silver hair let loose and hanging over his shoulders. Clad only in his white fencing trousers and no shirt. Pale skin, lean torso on show. And his caption had waves of arousal coursing through your body.

He was beautiful. Like a dark character from one of your fantasy novels. It took you a moment to formulate a reply, and what you gave was far from your usual ability.

“Are you trying to kill me off?

You’d ended your message with a couple of emojis, the hot face emoji and the winking face. It wouldn’t be the first time you and Aemond had shared more racy messages, but this had been the first time he’d sent a photo like that.

And your heart was in your throat, desire wet between your thighs when you saw him typing.

“I would never, but nice to know you find me that attractive… you could see this in person if you wanted?”

“Fuck…” you muttered aloud, staring at the screen in disbelief.

A cheeky thought entered your mind. A picture for a picture was only fair, right?

You made sure the angle was perfect, showing off the shape of your body, your hand tucked seductively between your thighs. Your shirt bunched up to show a little skin. You added only a few dirty emojis and one word.

“When?”

Aemond almost dropped his phone when you sent that message back. Between the photo and your message, his skin felt hot, the crotch of his trousers getting tighter the longer he looked at it.

Fuck, you were stunning. Seduction and sensuality personified. His hand was tucked into the waistband of his trousers before he could stop himself. His other frantically messaging you back.

“Next week? You have that graveyard shoot planned right?”

Aemond’s hand shook as he typed. He needed release and he needed you.

“You have no idea what you do to me…I crave you…you have witchcraft on your lips.”

You fingers were like lightning as you replied, your own hand still nestled between your thighs. Part of you wanted to call him, hear his voice talking you through the desire that was thick in your veins. Your fingers dipped beneath your underwear, the ones holding your phone hovering over the call symbol.

And then the phone rang. Aemond’s name flashing on your screen. You barely even said ‘hello’, your voice soft as you dropped back onto your bed.

“Talk to me, please just talk to me…”

Aemond let out a soft chuckle, ending in a groan as his hand settled entirely into his trousers.

“Do you need me, sweet girl? Did my bare chest turn you on that much?” his voice was in that tone you adored.

Low and soft, almost a whisper. It sent a shiver down your spine in the most delicious of ways, settling deep within your core.

“You have no idea. Now I know what you hide under all that black and leather.”

Aemond only hummed in response, the rustling of material telling you exactly what he was doing. But you wanted to hear his voice. The soft sound of his breath told you he was as aroused as you were. Sometimes, the simplest things were enough to get the two of you going.

“Oh, darling, I hide a lot more than that. How badly do you need me?”

The tone, the implication behind his words had you sighing softly, fingers toying with your pearl. Circling softly at just the thought of what the rest of him might look like. You tried to calm yourself, to muster some of the darker more erotic poetry you had read on his recommendation.

“I…oh...I want your lust to tear the flesh of my bones, fuck…and leave me ravaged…”

Aemond felt his good eye roll into the back of his head. Having you read that poetry was one thing, but hearing it fall from your lips and mixed with sounds of pleasure. He could have come there and then.

“And ravage you I will, my darling…”

He could hear the movement of your hand against your body, the faintest sounds of your slickened fingers pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. His own hand working himself furiously at just the thought of having you beneath him, moaning his name. He laid himself entirely back on his bed, his phone on his chest as his hips began to rut up into his hand.

“I’d like to taste you in ways my tongue dare not speak…”

That was all it took to have you softly sighing his name down the phone, your release coming like waves over your body. Aemond followed soon after, rough grunts matching the rhythm of his hand.

Both of you panted as you calmed, the silence falling comfortably until Aemond spoke.

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

The day had come. Months of messages, calls, video chats had all led to this. You were going to see him in the flesh. And he was going to see you.

You had both agreed to meet just as you finished your planned Halloween shoot – a bit on the nose admittedly but you had chosen a graveyard near your hometown with your favourite horror heroines as your style inspiration. Ranging from classics like the Bride of Frankenstein to newer icons such as Morticia Addams. Simply, the shoot was entirely self-indulgent for you.

You knew you wouldn’t miss him. A few friends had come to help you out, setting up the camera, getting changed into another costume and all that. But other than that, the graveyard was relatively quiet.

Your focus remained on the shoot. Remembering your poses, the props, what you envisioned for the final images. But you could see the silver hair in the distance, contrasted against the entirely black palette of his outfit. Aemond kept his distance, leaning against a headstone as he waited patiently for you to be done.

The shoot was done, you had changed into what could only be described as a more casual combination of the costumes from the shoot. A flowy black dress, paired with Victorian inspired boots and a lacy black shawl you’d had since you could remember.

You could see Aemond walking towards you, your friends having long packed up and dispersed – most of them knowing what you had planned afterwards. Nerves set in your stomach.

What if he didn’t like you? What if, despite seeing you through the screen, he was no longer interested?

But all of that disappeared the second he stood in front of you. His long, lean form clad head to toe in layers of black. From the thick wool of his coat to the silken fabric of his shirt and the leather of his boots. That eyepatch laid perfectly over his eye – you had asked what happened and despite being a little unwilling, Aemond explained he’d injured it as a child but said no more. It was almost as though he enjoyed being mysterious.

“Aemond…” you smiled, moving to slip down from your perch on a stone wall.

Your smile only widened when Aemond held out his hand, offering his assistance to help you down. And you took it gladly, letting his fingers wrap around yours without hesitation.

Aemond kept hold of it, toying softly with one of the rings you wore.

“That shoot was truly a sight to behold,” Aemond whispered, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

He knew what it did to you, you knew he did. You were sure that he would choose that tone purposefully in calls to rile you up. And you loved it.

“So, you liked it? Horror Queens wasn’t too obvious for Halloween?”

Aemond laughed, and you let him lead you to a little clearing in the gravestones. Everything felt comfortable, his hand holding yours, the feel of him stood next to you. It just felt right.

“You were perfect, as always. Even now it’s as though you’ve stepped from, dare I say, one of Shelley or Stoker’s pages.”

You squeezed his hand in response, not knowing how to respond to such a compliment. But you were struck even more silent when you saw where he was leading you.

A large blanket was stretched out on the ground, perfectly placed between a group of headstones. A small gift, wrapped in black and red paper and finished with a velvet bow sat beside a hamper filled with food. More specifically, your favourite foods.

“Well, aren’t you a romantic?”

You sat down on the blanket, stretching your legs out in front of you as Aemond sat at your side. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist. It was like you’d been beside each other for the longest time, everything felt so natural.

“A romantic? I am simply a man who wishes let you know how important you are.”

Aemond felt a need to restrain himself a little. Part of him wanted to spout all of the poetry and stories that wandered around his mind, to declare his love for you.

But he had just met you, in the literal sense. And he’d be damned if he scared you off now.

You, however, liked that about him. How open he was with how he felt. How he wasn’t afraid to give in to every emotion he felt.

“So, tell me. Don’t you know how much I enjoy your poetry?” you said it almost shyly, feeling Aemond’s arm tighten around your waist.

Aemond felt he could have melted there and then. But at the same time, the idea you enjoyed his words so much set a fire in his veins that he didn’t expect.

“Then you will very much like your gift, my darling.”

He leaned away, tugging the neatly wrapped gift towards him. Part of you felt guilty, you hadn’t bought him anything. But at the same time, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t mind.

His fingers brushed yours as you took the present from his grasp. As carefully as possible, you tugged at the ribbon and unwrapped it. They felt like books which didn’t surprise you at all, from Aemond. But what they truly were would surprise you.

Two beautifully bound notebooks, in black with shades of purple and red. Your breath caught in your throat as you opened the first one.

Pages upon pages of both of your favourite quotes, lines from poetry. You were already overwhelmed by the time you opened the second.

Handwritten versions of the poetry Aemond himself had sent you. The lines he had written to express his feelings towards you now preserved in his equally beautiful handwriting.

“Aemond…this is…”

You simply couldn’t find the words. So, you did the one thing you felt could express what you were feeling. You kissed him.

You almost threw yourself at him, the books discarded at the side as Aemond scrambled to catch you. Arms wrapping immediately around your waist and holding your body to his. Your legs straddled his waist, and you poured every ounce of affection and desire into your kiss.

Soon, Aemond reciprocated. Sliding a hand into your hair as his other gripped at your thigh.

He’d imagined everything about what kissing you would be like. How your lips would feel, how you would taste and how your body would feel beneath his hands.

The reality was more than he could ever imagine. And he wasn’t about to waste a single second.

Your own hands roamed over his body, gripping the soft, silk of his shirt while the other began to push the coat from his shoulders. You didn’t care that you were outside, there was no one here anyway.

All you needed was him.

Aemond shrugged his coat from his shoulders. The moment the fabric slid from his body, he moved to lay you on your back. The picnic could wait. You were the only meal he wished to devour.

Your dress bunched around your waist. Aemond slipped easily between your legs, and you could feel just how much he was enjoying the kiss. The swollen length of him pressing against you with only his jeans as a barrier.

His hips instinctively began to roll against yours, the hand on your thigh pulling your leg up to wrap around his slim waist. His lips began to trail down your neck and your head tilted back to let him continue his path.

Your breath came out in soft pants, your hand tangling into his hair as his lips settled on the exposed skin of your chest. Just as the first moan left your lips, Aemond pulled back.

His eye found yours, the blue entirely eclipsed by his pupil. Pure lust settled in his gaze.

“Shall I ravage you as I promised, my love?” Aemond leaned down, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe as he spoke.

You pushed your hips up against his in response. Words were failing you, but you could see in the look he gave you that he wanted your words.

“Please, Aemond, please…”

Your voice was embarrassingly whiny, need dripping from every syllable. And his response was immediate, latching his lips back onto your neck with a little more force this time.

“Whatever my love wishes, she will have. Your pleasure will know no bounds…”

His words were muffled as he buried his face into the swell of your chest, but what he said didn’t really matter anymore. All you both needed know was the touch of the other.

Your eyes rolled back as he continued his descent down your body. Pushing your dress higher as he reached your core. Your hand tangled tight in his hair, the pain only spurring Aemond on.

This was like a dream. The softness of your skin, the scent of your arousal as he licked a stripe over your clothed cunt. Aemond wished to commit every second to his memory.

He draped your legs over his shoulders, feeling you shift to rest on your elbows. The idea of you watching him had a heat licking up Aemond’s spine in the most delicious way.

Slim fingers tugged your underwear down your legs, a smirk thrown your way as he tucked them into his jeans.

“A souvenir?” you asked, chewing on your lip in anticipation as the cool air hit your slick folds.

Aemond didn’t answer, head dipping back down and settling between your thighs. His breath hot against your skin, sending goosebumps over the flesh of your thighs.

The moan you let out as his tongue licked over your core was almost sinful. Echoing through the empty graveyard as your head dropped back in pleasure. The sound only spurred Aemond on, now lapping at your folds as if he was a man starved.

“Delicious, so fucking delicious…” he almost growled the words into your body, sending vibrations through you that only heightened your desire for him.

His lips latched onto your pearl, suckling it between them and relishing the high-pitched keen that fell from your lips in return. He could already feel your thighs tightening around his head and Aemond was desperate to taste you on his tongue.

Your hand tightened to the point of pain in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that had him moaning into your cunt. He was rewarded with a fresh gush of slick over his tongue. Your fleshy walls pulsing around his tongue as he delved back in.

His name was like a prayer on your lips, chanting it over and over again as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Come for me, my beautiful creature…” Aemond grunted out the command as you tugged his face harder against your body, rolling your hips against his face.

Everything had sparks of pleasure biting at your body. His tongue licking at your walls, the slope of his nose rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way, his grip on your thighs almost painful.

You came with a scream of his name, a final pull on his hair earning you a hiss of pain but Aemond didn’t relent. He lapped up everything you gave him until you had to wriggle away from overstimulation.

“Fuck…” your voice was barely more than a whisper as you pulled Aemond back up your body.

Your skin was flushed, your cunt still pulsing as your high slowly left you. But Aemond’s hardened cock pressing against your damp core reminded you that he still needed to be taken care of.

And Aemond could see the look of mischief in your eyes. Your hips canting up to press your soaked core against him.

“Insatiable, hmm? Do you wish me to take you here, among the dead?”

You pressed your lips to his, sliding a hand between you to palm at the thick bulge in his jeans.

“I would let you take me anywhere; I am desperate for you…”

Your teeth tugged at his lip, his eye rolling back in his head.

“Besides, you did say you would ravage me.”

You punctuated your words with a squeeze of his cock, rubbing your palm down the length of it as he dropped his head to your neck. A few more touches had his cock twitching beneath your palm. Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper. Aemond came back to his senses just enough to push his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself.

He immediately lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside. The head of his cock stretching your walls in a way that had your sighing out his name.

The day had gotten darker, but it only made the whole experience more perfect. The sun beginning to set just as Aemond began to thrust into you, the orange glow illuminating him from behind. His silver hair painted gold and his skin almost glowing.

“Yes, oh, yes…”

Your moans were the only sound Aemond ever wished to hear. His name had never sounded more beautiful that when it fell from your lips in pleasure.

His hands tangled with yours as he held them high above your head. His thrusts slow but punishing, feeling like he was filling every inch of your core.

“You are everything I need, my darling. A dream come true, a dream I never wish to wake from…”

Aemond’s words were answered with your mewls and moans, your heels in the small of his back spurring him on. His rhythm sped up in response, all but pounding into you with abandon.

You were both now solely chasing your pleasure. The only sound aside from your joined moans was the rustle of leaves and the faint cawing of birds.

Aemond’s lips locked with yours as he felt your walls clench around him. Pleasure overtook you and he drank down every one of your cries as his own release was milked from his cock with every twitch and pulse of your cunt.

His movements slowed, but he wasn’t ready to pull from your body just yet. He released your hands, resting his head against your chest. Your hands found his hair and back, calmly stroking as you both relaxed.

Neither of you knew what to say, but you both felt it. A calmness, a connection that tugged at both your hearts.

Aemond had known you were meant for him from the moment he had seen that first photo. But you, you believed it now. No one had made you feel as he did for the longest time.

It wasn’t love; it was more. Something darker, deeper.

You felt empty as Aemond pulled out of you, finding something to clean you up with. But it wasn’t before you were wrapped in his embrace again.

“I’m so happy I met you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Though I fear I cannot be without you now.”

Aemond pulled away, tilting your face up to his.

“Darling, you’re already in my veins.”

The kiss he pressed to your lips was filled with nothing but love and promise. Promise of a darker, deeper love that you had only ever read about.

A love you would now get to experience.

Aemond Taglist:

@legitalicat @anjelicawrites @sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe

@aemondsbabygirl @blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

@thenameswinter99 @tumblin-theworldaway @kaelatargaryen

@hoosbandewan @thought--bubble @mysticalendings

@towriteloveontheirarms @arcielee

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut imagine #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut #fan frankentober 2024 #fan frankentober #modern aemond targaryen

296 notes · View notes

wrestlingwithlife · 1 year ago

Text

COD Incorrect Quotes With Our Lovely Y/n

Warning gets a little spicy towards the end ;)

Price: Well, should I be worried?

Y/n: Not yet.

Price:

Y/n:

*loud explosion*

Y/n: Now you can worry

————————————————————————

Y/n: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much?

Gaz: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!

Y/n: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!!

Gaz: You take that back!!!

Y/n: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

————————————————————————

Y/n: What are you doing here?

Soap: I could ask you the same question.

Y/n: I live here. This is my room.

Soap: I should probably ask you a different question.

————————————————————————

Y/n: I just heard Ghost call the dog a “fucking liar” because he barked like someone was at the door and no one was there.

————————————————————————

Price: I am going to need you to swear-

Y/n: Fuck.

Price:

Price: ...swear as in promise.

————————————————————————

Price: *shatters a window and climbs through it*

Price: *turns around and helps Y/n through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Y/n

Y/n: Okay.

————————————————————————

Ghost: You read my diary?

Y/n: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

————————————————————————

Y/n: I like your new pants!

Price: Thanks, they were 50% off!

Y/n: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

Price: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Y/n: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Price: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Y/n.

————————————————————————

Y/n: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.

Graves: I almost died.

Y/n: That... was my favorite memory.

————————————————————————

Soap: You look good in that hoodie.

Y/n: You know where else I'd look good?

Soap, zero hesitation: My bed.

Y/n, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

————————————————————————

Ghost: This bloodline ends with me.

Y/n: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

————————————————————————

Y/n: Gaz, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Gaz, naked in Y/n's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Y/n, already taking off his clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

————————————————————————

Price: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?

Y/n: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

————————————————————————

Y/n: Well, Ghost and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Y/n: That's right... We kissed!

————————————————————————

Y/n: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?

Gaz: Nope, there's 26.

Y/n: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.

Gaz: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.

Y/n: You'll get the D later ;).

————————————————————————

Y/n: What are you in the mood for?

Ghost: World domination.

Y/n: That's a bit ambitious.

Ghost: You are my world.

Y/n: Aww...

Ghost:

Y/n:

Ghost:

Y/n: OH.

————————————————————————

Price: Know why I called you in here?

Y/n: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

Price: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

————————————————————————

Soap: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Y/n: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Soap: Seize the dick.

————————————————————————

Hopefully these helped quench you guy’s hunger whilst I work on my next post.

- Author~Chan out ✌️

#cod modern warfare #cod price #captain john price #cod x y/n #cod x reader #task force 141 x male reader #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod gaz #incorrect quotes

1K notes · View notes

myster-roca · 28 days ago

Text

La Pelle del Diavolo: A Halloween Special

The night air in the hills of Tuscany was thick with the scent of earth and wild herbs, but a chill crept through the wind, slipping from the shadows cast by ancient oaks around the estate. Marco Romano, a seasoned thief, felt the familiar prickle of excitement as he approached the villa.

Dark whispers and superstitions tugged at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. Danger was an old friend, and tonight, it had led him to the mysterious Villa Tenebra.

The locals had spoken of the villa’s hidden treasure in hushed tones over dark wine, only daring to mention it in shadowed corners of Florence’s oldest bars. It was a relic of myth, known as the Corpus Noctem, the key to immortal life. Marco had dismissed it as folklore at first, but the lure of such power was impossible to resist.

He had slipped into Villa Tenebra with the help of a map from a cryptic dealer in Florence—a strange man eager to be rid of it. The map was faded and worn, but it revealed something extraordinary: an old smugglers’ passage hidden in the villa’s foundations, built centuries ago to let noblemen move treasures in and out undetected.

The entrance to the passage lay hidden behind a statue in the villa’s overgrown gardens, its base concealing a narrow stone door. With a grunt, Marco pushed it open, revealing a winding staircase descending into the earth. The air was cool and damp, and each step echoed, punctuating the silence with a heavy, ominous beat.

At the bottom, the passage twisted into a dimly lit stone hallway. Shadows flickered on the walls, worn smooth by years of forgotten footsteps. Marco moved forward, his senses sharp, adrenaline building. The air was thick, carrying an old, metallic scent, as though it held memories of things long past.

A few meters down, he found himself in a corridor and saw something he had never encountered—a perfectly sculpted muscle suit that looked like leather, coated in wax, and painted red. The closer he got, the more he felt an odd pull, a magnetic force that made his skin tingle and his pulse intensify.

The suit looked like leather but felt too smooth, too alive. It beckoned to him.

“This is it. The Corpus Noctem. The Flesh of the Night,” he whispered, his voice thick with greed. “The key to youth and eternal life.”

His fingers hovered over the material, and as soon as he touched it, a rush of heat surged through him, like electricity flooding his veins. His fingertips tingled as he traced its sculpted lines. The sensation was intoxicating, almost erotic. His breath quickened, and an unfamiliar hunger stirred deep within him.

With the suit clutched in his arms, he moved quickly down the hall, rounding a corner, his breathing quickening as he felt its warmth intensify. The heat from the suit seemed to throb, mirroring his own pulse, sending waves of anticipation rippling through him.

He knew he couldn’t wait any longer—he needed it on his body, needed to feel it enveloping him.

Setting the suit down, he hurriedly removed his clothes, pulling off his sleek, dark outfit and kicking off his boots. His legs trembled as he reached for the red muscle suit once more, pressing himself against it and feeling heat spread through his body.

He removed his pants, standing completely naked before the suit, savoring the rich red sheen of the leather.

Without hesitation, he began to put it on. The moment it touched his skin, a wave of pleasure and power flooded his senses.

As he slid the suit further up his leg, he felt an incredible tightness around his calf, a strange, thrilling tension as though the suit were pulling at his muscles. And then, to his astonishment, he felt his calf muscle expand, swelling against the material as though infused with newfound strength.

He continued, slipping his other leg in, feeling the suit tighten around his thighs. The same sensation of growth surged through him, his quads and hamstrings expanding, hardening, becoming thicker, stronger.

Marco’s hands trembled as he pulled the suit up over his hips, feeling the snug embrace of the material. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, and as the suit enveloped his torso, a wave of heat exploded through his chest and back.

He watched in awe as his pecs rose, filling out, becoming solid and powerful, each muscle now perfectly defined. His shoulders broadened, the suit tightening around them, forcing them to grow, to harden, until they were as strong as stone.

His arousal surged as he ran his hands down to the calves and then up to the chest, pressing his palm against the sculpted abdomen. It felt perfect—hard, tight, like a muscular man was inside.

Eyes closed, he traced his hands over the biceps and around to the triceps, savoring every sensation.

“You shouldn’t have touched that.”

The thief spun around. An old man stood in the hallway, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light. On his right hand, a tarnished silver ring caught the faint glow, intricate symbols etched into its surface.

His eyes, sharp and full of something the thief couldn’t quite place, bore into him. The air between them crackled with tension.

“This is your treasure, old man?” the thief sneered, masking the tremor in his voice.

The old man stepped forward, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Treasure? No… it’s a curse. You should strip it off and leave while you still can. That suit… The Corpus Noctem… was never meant to be worn by anyone who values their soul.”

The thief chuckled darkly, reveling in the waves of pleasure and power coursing through him as the suit clung tighter, molding to his body like a second skin. “You’re just trying to scare me. It’s mine now.”

But then, something shifted. The warmth he’d felt before began to change, becoming suffocating, as though the suit itself was tightening around him, digging deeper into his flesh.

The initial rush of pleasure twisted into something unbearable, a heat that clawed at him from within.

His chest heaved as panic seized him. “What… what is happening?”

The old man’s gaze was steely, his voice soft yet filled with grim satisfaction. “You wanted to own the suit, to wield its power. But now, it owns you.”

The thief’s hands flew to the suit, trying to rip it off, but the material wouldn’t budge. Panic clawed at him as he realized the truth—this wasn’t just a myth or legend. This was real, and he had fallen for its trap.

“The suit was crafted centuries ago,” the old man continued, his voice soft yet laden with dark knowledge. “A coven of sorcerers, desperate for immortality, summoned an ancient demon—the Harrower of Flesh—who bound its essence into the hollow skin of a man, creating the Corpus Noctem. Whoever wore it would gain eternal youth and beauty, but at a cost: for each year they lived, they’d need to drain another’s essence, leaving behind a lifeless skinsuit. To bypass this, the wearer must cloak themselves in the flesh of another soul—only by donning this skin over the Corpus Noctem can one remain whole.”

The thief’s vision blurred as the suit constricted around him, merging deeper into his skin. His body tingled with a sensation that was equal parts pleasure and terror. It felt as if the suit were feeding on him, consuming his very essence.

The old man’s frail form shifted, and with deliberate slowness, he raised his hands to his face. He pulled it off, revealing a lifelike mask, and beneath it, a strikingly youthful, handsome face emerged—features sharp, jawline strong, eyes dark and piercing. Smirking, he removed his clothes piece by piece, casting off the disguise of age.

As the last layer fell, the old, fragile illusion was gone, replaced by a chiseled, muscular figure that looked as if it had been carved from marble. His back straightened, shoulders broad, and every inch of him radiated a powerful, youthful energy.

“You see, I was once like you,” the man said, his voice now rich and powerful. “I, too, was lured by the suit’s promises. But unlike you, I learned its secrets and made it my own. I’ve lived for centuries, wearing this skin, draining life from those foolish enough to fall into its grasp.”

The thief stumbled back, his body no longer his own. The suit tightened again, and he felt his skin loosen, as if separating from his bones, becoming pliable and empty. He was now little more than an outer shell waiting to be filled.

“You’ll be perfect,” the man murmured with a predatory smile. “I’ve been needing a new face. And your body… it will serve me well.”

The man reached down, his fingers trailing over the thief’s hollowed form, savoring the warmth and fresh pliability. He lifted the emptied skin carefully, feeling its readiness to be inhabited. Pausing, he slid a tarnished silver ring from his finger and set it gently on the floor beside him, a faint smile crossing his lips, as if the gesture held private, ritualistic meaning.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he began donning the suit, the thief’s former identity slipping over him like a glove. The skin conformed to him, tightening and sealing with a sensation that sent shivers through him—a seductive merging of flesh and power.

He ran his hands over his new form, relishing the strength beneath his fingers. This body was everything he’d hoped for—youthful, strong, and ready to endure another century. He reached down, rubbing his hands over Marco's abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath his touch. His hands drifted lower, gripping Marco's cock, heat radiating from it. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he began to stroke.

“Do you like it?” he asked himself with a smile.

He began to laugh as he continued stroking, feeling Marco grow harder. On the verge of climax, he still sensed remnants of Marco's essence, and his smile grew even wider. Reaching up, he massaged his new face.

But he wasn’t done. He turned to the Corpus Noctem, lying on the floor like a crimson shadow. With practiced ease, he slipped it on, layer by layer, feeling it fuse with his stolen body, amplifying his strength, fortifying every fiber. The suit melded seamlessly, completing his transformation.

Reaching down, he retrieved the silver ring from the floor and slid it back onto his finger, a final touch that signified the bond. He looked into the grand mirror, admiring the flawless reflection. Turning sharply, he traced a hand along his new jawline, savoring the unfamiliar yet perfectly familiar contours. The face of a man he had consumed, a youth he had stolen, now belonged to him entirely.

With a slow exhale, he ran his hands over his abs, savoring each hard, sculpted ridge beneath his fingertips. The suit hugged every contour perfectly, every muscle honed, every line exact.

“Magnificent,” he whispered, his voice low with satisfaction, echoing through the empty hall like a dark promise. Only his faint laughter remained, drifting through Villa Tenebra’s silent halls, waiting for the next soul to fall prey to the Corpus Noctem.

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

Would you like to expand this dark universe? Follow me to explore more content and updates: https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

#male bodysuit #male body transformation #male body suit #male skinsuit #male body swap #male bodyswap #male transformation #male shapeshift #male disguise #male impersonation

138 notes · View notes

pocketjoong · 10 months ago

Text

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 2〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.5k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. Mentions of fire. Passing mention of injuries. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

By the time you finish tending to the injuries of those who had been sent to the infirmary, the sun is rising in the distance. A weariness settles over you as you dress the wounds of the last person you have to tend to, and you look forward to the two weeks of peace after a dragon attack.

You rinse the grime and blood from your hands in the basin tucked in the corner before rushing out of the building. Relief washes over you at the sight of familiar figures at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the port. Even though they’re merely silhouettes against the morning light, you know each of them well enough to recognise them by their shadows.

As you move closer, you note that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi, the village blacksmith, look battle-ravaged and tired. But they are watching the sunrise with content smiles. You approach them with a smile of your own, but you can’t help but scan their figures for any injuries that might need healing.

Amusement dances in your brother’s eyes at your worried expression, “I'm fine. Mostly unharmed save for a few small bruises and the soot lining my clothes.”

When you turn your focus to the others, you find them grinning back at you. “And you guys?”

“No open stitches or any new injuries. I told you I’d be careful,” Wooyoung declares, his tone light-hearted.

Mingi ruffles your hair while he offers his own reassurance, “I’m fine as well. I stuck to my workshop until the very end, only leaving when Yunho and Wooyoung needed assistance with the ballista.”

“Let’s go back home and get some rest. Wooyoung and I have a meeting to attend at the hall in a few hours,” Yunho says, leading you towards your home with a guiding hand on your shoulder. Mingi trails behind silently, waving in farewell before taking the dusty path to reach his house, which also doubles as his workshop.

You, Yunho, and Wooyoung share the house overlooking the village. All three of you moved here after losing your families to a brutal attack years ago. Despite being only a few months older than Wooyoung and barely a year older than you, Yunho seamlessly assumed the role of guardian for both of you. The weight he shouldered at the tender age of twelve, stepping into the shoes of a village leader after the tragedy, often made you feel bad for him. His duties far exceeded what any child should bear, but he bore them with a grace beyond his years.

The dream claws at your consciousness, a relentless reminder of the incident that tore through your family. You can handle the sympathetic looks of your fellow villagers, but the nightmares are another story. You hate them, for they persist, leaving you exhausted and weary even after a full night’s sleep.

You unlock the door, ushering the two males inside. As the door creaks open, the comfort of the space envelops you like a familiar embrace, and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You know you are dreaming, but the panic that grips your throat is a tangible force that twists your heart and leaves your hands shaking. It’s a suffocating reality that is too familiar, too hauntingly real.

Your surroundings are too hot, too bright, and suffused with smoke that blinds your vision. The orange flames dance menacingly in front of you, searing painfully against your skin. Your brain is screaming for you to do something, to move. But you are frozen in the face of danger and struggle to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

There’s a presence beside you, but the ringing in your ears drowns their voice. Squinting through the smoke, urgency compels you to find an escape route. If you don’t move, you’ll be burnt to a crisp by the flames, and you won’t let a dragon be the reason you meet your end.

There’s no time to waste, you realise when there’s a crash in the adjacent room. The sound is what finally jolts you into action, and without hesitation, you grab the person next to you and bolt towards safety.

The relief when you escape the fire all but vanishes as the sight in front of you changes, and you find Yunho trapped in the claws of a massive dragon. His desperate struggle mirrors the fear etched in his eyes. The image shakes you to your core. It’s new, and you know why you’re seeing this: every time Yunho is out fighting the dragons during an attack, you can’t help but worry about his safety.

There’s a beat of silence as if the world has stopped around you before you jump towards the creature holding him hostage. But you’re too late. You meet the ground with a crash while the dragon takes off, taking Yunho away from you.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding so hard that you feel it wants to escape your chest. You’re covered in cold sweat, and you feel it trail down your back. You gasp for air, for the relief that comes with your lungs being filled with oxygen. Instinctively, you look down to check your hands, half-expecting to find the remnants of blood and soot on them.

Dazed and disoriented, you rise, stumbling towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, you wince at your wide-eyed and tear-stained face. You’re breathing fast, too quick to be considered normal. Staring at your trembling hands, you run them beneath the water before splashing the cold substance on your face.

Feeling a presence next to you, you turn around to find your brother gazing at you worriedly. But before you can ease his worry, Wooyoung walks in through your bedroom door, which is now wide open courtesy of Yunho.

“Is everything okay?” Wooyoung breaks the silence, voice is still gravelly from sleep. You feel bad for waking them up and worrying them like this, but right now, all you can focus on is the raging panic inside of you. “I heard you screaming, Y/N.”

You blink; your throat definitely feels raw, but you can’t remember hearing yourself scream.

“I think it was a bad dream,” Yunho mutters softly, eyes still trained on you.

Dream?

It’s almost as if everything falls into place when you hear Yunho’s words. You had the nightmare once again, the same one you had had since you lost your family during an attack when you were ten years old. With clammy hands, you tightly grip the bedside table in a futile attempt to steady yourself. Stumbling, you crash onto the floor as you try to calm your furiously beating heart.

Yunho scrambles to kneel next to you, brows furrowed in worry. “Y/N, breathe with me, c’mon. ’S okay, you’re safe.” You let him tuck you into his chest, the touch becoming an anchor to help you ground yourself. You breathe deeply, timing your breaths in tandem with Yunho’s. You remind yourself over and over again that he’s safe and sound.

“Was it the same dream?” Wooyoung’s voice is closer now, and you open your eyes to see him in front of you. You shrug as an answer to Wooyoung’s question.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you whisper apologetically, but they quickly shush you.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Wooyoung murmurs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if he already knows your answer, “Or would you like to help me with lunch?”

“Brunch,” you declare, carefully disentangling yourself from Yunho, who has fallen asleep. Little snores leave his mouth, and you suppress a giggle. You grab a pillow from your bed, gently supporting his neck to ensure he sleeps comfortably even if he’s on the floor. Quietly, you follow Wooyoung into the kitchen.

“What are we making?” You question, standing in the middle of the room while Wooyoung rummages through the cupboards.

“How do omelettes and buttered toast sound? Yunho bought bread from the village baker last evening, and I’m sure we haven’t run out of the jam we prepared,” he stops his hunt and starts gathering the things needed for the proposed meal.

“We also have some leftover meat pie,” you inform him, fishing out the pie from the pantry and setting it on the table. Grabbing a large bowl, you crack some eggs while Wooyoung chops the vegetables, the two of you falling into rhythm easily.

Wooyoung reaches over to add the chopped vegetables to the bowl, stirring them with the eggs as you place two pans on the stove. Soon, you have two omelettes sizzling in unison. Carefully, you add different spices and ingredients to each one based on your individual preferences. Spotting extra vegetables, you throw them in a pan to sauté them while Wooyoung handles the omelettes.

“Wow,” Yunho walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the aroma of food. He peeks over your shoulders. “That’s a feast right there.”

Eventually, you and Wooyoung finish cooking and carry everything to the table with Yunho's assistance. The three of you happily devour the food, joking, teasing, and laughing between bites.

“I have to go into the forest to gather more herbs. It’s amazing how fast we burn through them after the attacks,” you sigh, already tired by the mere thought of having to haul a huge batch of herbs from the forest.

“Be careful,” Yunho warns you. “The forest is safe right now, but you can’t be careful enough.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure with a smile. “I’ve done this so many times.”

After bidding goodbye to the two males, you follow one of the trails behind your house that leads into the forest. You hum a small tune as you walk through the woods. Despite the village being attacked every fortnight, the forest is safe because the dragons avoid lingering for fear of getting captured. The chirping birds and the small animals frolicking around in the undergrowth lift your spirits. You take a deep breath, unable to stop yourself from breaking into a smile.

The sound of a nearby waterfall catches your attention, prompting you to change course towards the opening through the trees. However, you halt in your tracks when you spot broken trees and upturned earth, suggesting that something came barreling down from the sky.

The only thing that would crash down from the sky is a dragon.

Unsheathing your shortsword, you slowly approach an outgrown rock where the wreckage seems the worst. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before peeking to check if you’re right, only to hide behind the rock once again quickly. There, on the other side, is a dragon you’ve never seen before.

It doesn’t take a genius to identify it as a Night Fury, also known as ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself.’ The beast’s scales are pitch black, adorned with small horns that spike from above its eyes, down its neck, back, and tail, the tip of which fans out like that of a whale. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look as terrifying as its reputation suggests, resembling more of a feline than a vicious reptile. For being a dragon dreaded across the seven seas, the beast looks tamer than the ones you’ve come across over the course of your life.

Peeking from behind the rock again, you realise the dragon is tangled in rope. There are signs of struggle, showing that it tried but failed to free itself from the binds. As it seems to be asleep, you approach cautiously, awed by the sheer size of the creature. The dragon likely hears you because, even though it can’t move, one of its eyes opens, fixing a stare at you. It releases a warning growl when you move even closer, but you scoff, knowing fully well that it won’t be able to harm you.

“You know, you really look more like a cat than a dragon,” your tone is belittling as you tilt your head to meet the dragon’s gaze head-on.

The dragon emits what seems like a scoff, earning an eye-roll from you. “You should be nicer to me. After all, I could kill you, and then what would happen, huh? Your little family would find it harder and harder to attack us, considering that you’re the one who makes it difficult for us to bring down the rest of your kind.”

It hits you that this would be your first dragon kill, and for some reason, it gives you a sense of satisfaction. Eliminating the Night Fury is a step closer towards your goal to avenge your family and the countless others who were destroyed by these beasts.

Raising your blade, you look down at the beast with a blank expression. The dragon gazes at you with big, pleading eyes, its pupils round and sparkly like that of a cat. Your grip on the weapon falters, and sensing your hesitation, it lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“You have some nerve, really,” you sigh, the urge to harm the creature gradually ebbs away the longer you look into its eyes. It’s a living, breathing creature, and it goes against all your ideals as a healer to kill a sentient being. “First, your kind kills my family, then you guys literally cause so much damage to my village every time you attack, and here I am, wanting to spare you? Why can’t you be as ugly as a Gronckle?”

The dragon blinks at you in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You scold it, only causing the dragon to huff, this time in amusement. Sensing that you’re not going to kill it, the beast lets out another whine and closes its eyes.

Sighing once again, you use your sword to cut through the ropes, loosening the bonds that bind the poor creature. That is your second mistake because the moment it is free, the dragon lunges at you, pinning you against the rock as you gasp in shock. It growls at you, keeping you restrained with its claws.

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely?” you mock the dragon. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you can’t stop taunting it. “I save your sorry life, and you thank me by pinning me to a rock? Quite the peculiar way to express gratitude, I must say… and quite kinky.”

The beast regards you with a look of sheer disbelief, scoffs dismissively, and turns around to fly further into the forest. Only when it crashes into an outcrop of rocks, do you notice the unsteadiness of its flight.

Is it injured?

Your brows furrow as a pang of worry pierces through your heart, but before you can act on it, the realisation of how late it it dawns upon you. You haven’t even started collecting the herbs you had ventured into the forest for. Deciding to return tomorrow to check on the dragon, should it still be around, you start the laborious task of gathering the herbs you need.

175 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Carpe Noctem 28

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The visit from the detective quickly drifts to the back of your mind. You have enough to worry about without dwelling over the unfortunate victim of the break-in. It’s only Cole that reminds you of the strange early morning drop-in as he recounts it to Peter.

It’s just after noon as you set a fresh batch of cookies into the display and Cole wonders about the mystery intruder. Would they come here? Where did they break into? Why? Maybe he should look into a better security system.

Peter is more interested than you are. You continue to transfer the oatmeal raisin, one by one with the tongs, as soft instrumental flows from the new bluetooth speaker Cole installed to add to the atmosphere. It just makes you sleep, you suppose that would drive peoples’ caffeine addiction.

As Peter goes to grab his apron, Cole goes to replace the dark roast filter as a new batch is needed. You stop setting out the cookies to ring through a new customer. The steady flow helps keep you from thinking too much.

You hand over the medium roast and a muffin and watch the man still yammering to his Airpod leave. You turn back as there’s a sudden clamour and Cole gasps as he tears open a preloaded filter and the grinds explode over him. You really wish he would stick to the back office.

“Oh my,” you grab a tea towel as he coughs, turning to you with coffee all over his face. You can’t help but laugh through your irritation.

“What’s going on?” Peter comes out as he ties his apron. “Oh sh–” he guffaws as he points at Cole, “bruh.”

You tut and shake your head. You take the shredded package from Cole and toss it. You turn back to him and dust the grounds off his face with the towel, letting them fall to the floor.

“Get the broom, Peter,” you say as Cole’s blue eyes fixate on you. He keeps his hands slightly out as he watches you. His gaze bores into you hotly, as if he can’t look away. “Well, I think maybe it’s about time you go back and get some of your own work done,” you reproach.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I’m so clumsy,” he smiles, his cheeks rosy as you wipe away more of the coffee, moving down his neck to his collar and sweeping away even more.

“Well, you’re going to smell delicious,” you kid as you use your hand to dust off his shirt.

He steps closer, surprising you. More of the grounds litter onto the floor as Peter shuffles in the storage room. Cole seems to lean in but you’re quickly distracted as the cafe door swings open. You step back and clutch the cloth as you face the new customer.

“I shoulda fucking guessed it,” Lloyd lets the door fall open behind him, “I knew you were lying.”

Shit. You’re speechless as he struts across the room, stopping just on the other side of the counter, “kinda fucking funny you’d lie about working at a cafe but I guess I know why.”

Lloyd glares at Cole who stares back in confusion. “Uh, hello, can we get you something–”

“You can shut your mouth. This a conversation between me and her,” Lloyd shoos him with his fingers, “really, this jag off? You’re over here pushing coffee–”

“Please, just go, we can talk after I’m done–”

“No, no, I want the truth. I wanna know who I got in my home? Is it Mimi or a slut?”

“Woah, hey, hey,” Cole steps closer to you, palms out pleadingly, “hey, guy, calm down. You can’t talk to her like that.”

“And who the fuck are you? Shut the fuck up,” Lloyd snarls.

“Wait, wait,” Cole nudges you slightly behind him, “I know you– you broke my windshield.”

“Huh,” Lloyd scoffs and smirks, “that was you? In hindsight, I shoulda done more.”

“What the…” you mutter.

“Look, you’re going to have to leave if you’re not getting anything. And if you’re going to continue to harass my employee, we won’t serve you. So please, let’s be polite–”

“Polite? Polite?” Lloyd blusters, laughing like a hyena, “I’ll show you fucking polite.”

Lloyd grabs the tip jar before either of you can react. He whips it at Cole, hitting him in the jaw, before launching himself across the counter. You cry out as Cole recoils, thrown off balance as Lloyd latches onto his collar. They hit the espresso machine and grunt, rolling around against the counters and shelves as they struggle with each other.

“Peter!” You shout terrified as you stay back, trying not to get caught up in the entangled men. “Peter, call the police–”

Lloyd grunts as he head snaps back. Cole shakes out his fist as he detaches from the other man, and cocks his arm, setting his feet. He grits his teeth as Lloyd wipes the blood away from his nose and brings his own fists up.

“Wanna fuck around?” Lloyd snarls.

“Lloyd, stop!” You shout.

“I got farmer strength, buddy, don’t make me use it,” Cole warns. It’s a bit lame but you don’t think he could be mean if he tried.

“Woah, woah,” Peter rushes in, getting between them with the broom, pointing the handle at Lloyd, “who the hell is Mr. Caterpillar?”

“Stay out of this, boy,” Lloyd warns as he grabs the broom.

“No, no,” you exclaim and grab the broom, twisting it as you insert yourself between Lloyd and the others. Peter lets go and you jab the handle up, sending Lloyd’s hand into his jaw. He releases the broom as you hold it up defensively. “Leave now. Leave me alone. What I do is none of your business. That’s what you said. So go.”

He huffs and juts his chin out, cradling it as his nostrils flare. He looks behind you at Cole and Peter. His eyes search the room like a wolf searching for prey. He curls his lip and spits blood onto the floor.

“You’re fucking right we’re going to talk later,” he steps closer and you sense both the men behind you do the same, “keep up the hard work, Mimi.”

He enunciates the last two syllables venomously. He turns and grabs the milk frother, shoving it to the ground in a crash. You bring the broom horizontal to stop Peter and Cole as they try to charge him. You shake your head and whisper, stop.

Lloyd shoulders past you and hops back over the counter, his sole slipping on the tile and nearly sending him onto his ass. He growls in frustration and stomps to the door. He stops to look back at you, pointing at Cole then turns his hand to flip him off.

“Just you wait, bud, I got a spare tire iron with your fucking name on it.”

He rips open the door and storms out. You take a breath, shaking as you lower the broom. You hang your head and feel your insides crumple.

“I’m sorry, Cole,” you turn to the men, “and Peter, I’m sorry to you too. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

“Who was that guy?” Peter asks.

“Don’t be sorry,” Cole undercuts, “you did nothing wrong. That wasn’t… your ex? The cop?”

"With a mustache like that, he definitely reads cop," Peter snorts.

You shake your head. You don’t even know how to explain it. You can barely think.

“Hey, hey,” Cole takes the broom gently from you, “hey, you’re shaking like crazy. Why don’t you sit down?”

Peter looks at the store front then back to you, “I should follow that douche–”

“Please,” you gulp as you let Cole take you by the arm and gently lead you away, “please, I don’t–” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

You can’t help but repeat the words over and over. Not just for them, but to the man in your head raining down punches on you and the man who just left. You’re sorry for all of it.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #cole turner #the gray man #ghosted #drabble #carpe noctem #series #au #the club

200 notes · View notes

helluva-simp · 1 year ago

Text

Fizzarozzie Incorrect quotes

(because I love them)

Ozzie: You look good in that hoodie.

 Fizzarolli: You know where else I'd look good?

 Ozzie, zero hesitation: My bed.

 Fizzarolli , at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

Fizzarolli: Are you trying to seduce me?

 Ozzie: Why, are you seducible?

Ozzie: Know why I called you in here?

 Fizzarolli: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

 Ozzie: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

Fizzarolli: Relationships should be 50/50. Ozzie cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Ozzie: I like your new pants!

 Fizzarolli: Thanks, they were 50% off!

 Ozzie: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

 Fizzarolli: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

 Ozzie: Thats’s… not what I meant.

 Fizzarolli: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Ozzie.

Ozzie: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

 Fizzarolli: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

 Ozzie: Seize the dick.

Ozzie: I don’t do romantic relationships.

 Fizzarolli: *exists*

 Ozzie: Shit.

Ozzie: Is something burning?

Fizzarolli: leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Ozzie: Fizz, the toaster is literally on fire

Ozzie: We're going mattress shopping.

Ozzie: You know, once we get it, we'll have to break it in.

Fizzarolli: Oh, I hear what you're saying. Mattress trampoline.

Ozzie: …

Fizzarolli: Wait, no. You were talking about sex

#helluva boss #incorrect quotes #fizzarolli #fizz x ozzie #fizzarozzie #helluva boss asmodeus

278 notes · View notes

carpenoctem-if · 9 months ago

Text

Carpe Noctem - Intro Post

DEMO - tba

You are a nobody. A supposedly ordinary human in a world full of powerful beings. Your life is all in all pretty average if not bordering on mind-numbing, like watching paint dry... That is until you were kidnapped and tossed into one especially small carriage to be delivered somewhere only the ancients knew of.

From now on nothing will ever be the same and you need to adapt to the ever-changing outside world as fast as possible. All the while trying to decipher your past and with that your part in an every-growing political conflict that borders to develop into an all out war the world has yet to see.

General content warnings: Bigotry & prejudice, horror elements, interspecies awkwardness, explicit language, depictions of violence, injuries, blood and death, explicit sexual content (if selected), flashbacks of a dark past to unveil, sprinkled with some homophobia here and there & general an unfair treatment of people with disabilities.

FEATURES

-> customizable MC (name, pronouns, appearance, identity)

-> semi-set personality due to evolve (MCs reclusive upbringing forces you to start as someone that's not entirely comfortable with other people and as such you'll be able to choose coping mechanisms your MC will use to compensate such a deficit)

-> 5 characters to romance (3 in book 1, not sure if the other two will follow, they'll probably be fully romanceable in book 2)

-> POVs of the ROs included

-> an open-minded author that is inclined to change some NPCs to fully fledged ROs depending on the general opinion/wishes of readers

-> an emotional roller coaster, all in all nothing for ppl that want a light-hearted theme

-> later on you'll be able to choose part of your race (vampyres, merpeople, demons, shapeshifters, phoenixes -and many more) & with that you can determine and further develop your special skillset. Your heritage will reward you with quite different flavour texts for every possible race there is, so yes. It will matter greatly what you chose. And each of the available races will have disadvantages that could prove quite...fatal in certain situations.

romanceable characters:

the master [Alois|Alice|Alix] (m|f|n) 24 winters

An aloof demeanor at the first glance, A has a cold, strangely shrouded gaze. They're reclusive as fuck, so there isn't much the general population knows about them. Oh. And A is your esteemed master -as if any of you actually want this dynamic... A seems to hate you and your position even more, especially the hidden context it supplies to everyone they meet...

A has almond-shaped silver eyes that always seem distant and unfocused. They have defined cheek bones with mostly soft facial features and quite long, silver hair that is often tied to a simple ponytail. A wears fine dark clothing without other prominent features to despict their wealth.

Content warnings for A's route: denial of feelings aka one of the slowest burns imaginable, domestic violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, anxiety attacks, self-harm, angst & hurt/comfort

the protector [Leto] (m|f|n) too many to count

Leto is a raven-like creature most would describe as monstrous-looking. They are rarely seen and the few moments they are, death is certain. For many commoners it's enough to see one of Leto's black feathers to warrant a swift escape.

Their past eludes them and you have to wonder - why does some antics of them seem kinda...familiar?

Content warnings for Leto's route: survivor-guilt, body dysphoria, angst, captivity & enslavement, torture, ptsd

the assassin [Zane|Zoey] (m|f) 28 winters

Z is everything their mother wanted them to be. Her own personal weapon. One she is now inclined to use for her vendetta against you.

They have dark brown hair with intelligent hazel green eyes that seem to observe their surroundings constantly. Z was raised with stories about you, stories you know nothing about. How can it be that they seem to know more of you and your family than you yourself?

Should it worry you that they sound extremely resolute in stating their sole purpose is to rid the world of your existance?

Content warnings for Z's route: enemies to frenemies to lovers, eating disorder, alcohol-addiction, a tendency of morbid jealousy, past emotional abuse & manipulation

??? [redacted]

??? [also redacted]

more info tba

Small note of the author:

Everything is slow burn in this - even the character customization, cause I want to add those moments seamlessly into the story.

I tend to take my time. You can expect me to heavily focus on the characters and their feelings, with a slight disregard to describing the environment and such. I work with minimalistic efforts to still give a sense of what I imagine everything to be but with the intention to leave fine details to the reader's own imagination.

I'll try to be considerate of everyone's preferences, especially in the more kinky parts of the story. There'll be versions for more assertive characters as well as more passive one's. Though I should add that the ROs all have their own set of bias that they prefer. However there will be growth throughout the story, including that.

The gravity of your choices will intensify throughout book 1, especially as you get to know the Circle and the Court and every other political hive of intrigue.

And yes. You can die. The ROs can die. Almost everyone will be able to at some point, I guess. Though I don't like the idea of writing a total distopia, don't expect me to change my mind regarding that one that easily.

More infos will be added over time. I'll post lore snippets of my sketchbook soon, like the worldmap, the general outlines of the Circle & the Court, the different races and such.

Asks are welcomed.

#interactive novel #interactive fiction #wip if #choicescript #lgbtqia

107 notes · View notes