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livsbrutalitys-blog · 1 year ago

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Unfinished business

pt. 1 | pt. 2| pt. 4 (i highly recommend reading the previous parts first <3)

pairing(s): Rhea x f!reader, wwe x f!reader, not really but aew x f!reader

a/n: the song that’s below is gonna be the entrance music for y/n if you don’t like it thats totally fine we don’t all have the same taste so i recommend you play whatever music you choose. don’t play it just yet I will make a note letting you know when to play it :) Also this part is probably gonna be the shortest of them all.

use of y/n

tw: eventual smut, cussing, physical violence (y’all this is wrestling what’d you expect), idk if there’s more lmk if you see any

rm: @floweirala if you want to be added or unadded just message me

Today was finally the day you and Liv had been waiting for. You were finally going to see her. You woke you before Liv and now you were just laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling thinking about how the day is gonna go.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a blaring noise coming from the opposite side of the room. You turned your head to see what it was and it was Liv’s alarm going off. You got up and walked over to her bed and gently shook her arm to wake her up. When she did finally wake up she grabbed her phone and shut off the alarm.

“Good morning, it’s the big day!” you said trying to sound more excited to encourage her to get out of bed. “Oh my god!” is all she said as she sprung out of her bed suddenly remembering what today was. You laughed at her and she giggled at her own antics.

“I was thinking maybe we go grab some breakfast before we get ready or we can order room service?” you suggested and she turned to look at you considering your options till she finally decided what she wanted. “Room service would probably be better since it’s probably crawling with fans out there and we don’t wanna be spotted” she said and you nodded in agreement, you didn’t even think about that.

WWE was so much different than AEW in so many was but the biggest thing was the size of the fan base. You knew it wasn’t gonna be the same as your last company but it still amazes you how big the actual fan base was compared to the other company. But they shared some of the same fans so they’d definitely know who you are if they saw you out on the streets.

Once you two got done eating and cleaned up you both decided that you should go ahead and start getting ready since your call time to be at the show was 1 pm and it was now 10:30. You were dressed and Liv was putting the finishing touches on her make up while you waited. You didn’t do your makeup just yet since you’ve always preferred doing it last so it looked as fresh as possible for the TV and the love crowd.

You grabbed a hoodie to wear over your outfit and a mask so that way when you were out nobody would spot you and give away the surprise. Liv did the same as you, You felt your phone start to buzz in your pocket. When you grabbed it and looked at what it was you weren’t surprised to see that it was Stephanie calling you. You answered the call.

“Hey Steph” you said now feeling comfortable calling her by her nickname since you had been working with her very closely for the past 6 months leading up to today. “Hi y/n, are you and Liv ready to go?” she asked “Um I am let me check on Liv really quick” you muted your end of the call in case something personal or embarrassing was said but mostly it was just a habit you formed.

“Hey Livy, Steph’s on the phone wondering if your ready. Are you good to go or do you need more time?” you asked stepping into the bathroom halfway to get a look at her. “Yeah I’m good to go if you are” she said with a big smile you could see in her eyes how much today meant to her. You smiled at her because seeing her this happy made you just as excited and happy as her. “Yeah I’m good” you said while unmuting your phone. “Yep we’re both good to go” you said with audible excitement. “That’s awesome, Ok there is a car waiting for you downstairs, remember to wear the covering you don’t wanna spoil the surprise” she said she was also very happy for you two.

You finished the call with Stephanie and you were now headed down to the ground floor of the hotel. Totally covered nobody could tell who you were which was a good thing right now. Now both of you were sitting in the back seat of a big suv on the way to the arena. You were, again, lost in your own thoughts about Rhea and the whole rest of the day ahead of you. You felt something touch your hand. You looked over at Liv and her face said all that you needed to hear. She was sympathizing with you in that moment, you didn’t let go of her hand as it was the only thing keeping you from spiraling in that moment.

“Liv I cant thank you enough for being through all this with me” you said breaking the silence. “Y/n you don’t have to thank me your basically my sister now, I love you boo, I got you, always” she said and you were really truly grateful for her. You don’t know how you would’ve made it through these past couple months with out her support and ungodly amount of enthusiasm. You smiled at her “I love you too Livy and I’ve got you always” she smiled at you.

You finally arrived at the arena and the driver came to open Liv’s door and she hopped out first, turning to face the inside of the car to adjust her disguise and ask you to make sure she was covered you let her know she was good and asked her the same for yourself. You hopped out right behind her and you two sprinted to the door and ran inside quickly to avoid any spying eyes. You were immediately rushed to a room and told that you would be told when it was your time to come out but to stay in that room for the time being and you both did.

You grabbed your makeup bag out of your bigger bag and sat down at the vanity that was set up in the room. You were halfway done when you heard something. Someone. A deep Australian accent vibrated through the hallway outside your dressing room. You couldn’t make out the words but you knew exactly who it was. You stared at the door for whatever reason it’s like you froze in place as soon as you made the connection of the voice and the person. Liv noticed and said your name to get your attention “huh, what is it?” you said still kind of lost in thought but now looking at her blankly.

“Don’t worry about her your gonna get her soon, your gonna make her regret hurting you like she did” She said with a sense of anger. “I’m not worried about her I’m just a little overwhelmed this is a lot y’know” you said now suddenly out of breath and feeling panicked for no reason at all it seemed. “God Liv I can’t get a good breath” you said holding your chest now feeling like tears are gonna come at any given second. “Hey Hey Hey look at me, you are fine, you are safe and you’re gonna be amazing out there everyone’s gonna freak when they see you even her she’s not gonna know what to do with herself and i mean it’s not like she can run anywhere” she said while holding you face and fanning you to calm you down and it worked. You nodded at her words signaling you heard her.

Once you finally calmed down you finished your makeup and sat on the couch with Liv watching the match happening right now on the TV. Rhea’s match was next and you heard the door knob giggle before it finally opened to reveal Stephanie. She snuck in swiftly.

“You girls ready for the best moment of your lives” she said with a beaming smile. You and Liv jumped up shrieking as you both said yes at the same time. “Alright well come on let’s go to gorilla” she motioned you to walk out. You both kept your disguises on and it brought some attention from the other wrestlers to you both. They knew what was going on just not who it was.

“Alright it’s gonna be Liv first then Y/n you’ll go out last and join her” she said hugging you both feeling so proud of you two. “ok ok that sounds good” Liv said trying to do breathing exercises to calm herself down and you were copying her. “And y/n you’ve got the microphone” Stephanie said, you weren’t surprised as you and Liv both practiced the same promo but Liv didn’t really like doing them it wasn’t her thing and you were completely fine with that you always enjoyed talking shit especially on the mic.

Rheas match was happening and you were getting closer to going out. You heard Liv’s cue to go out. She was waiting in front of you just behind the curtain now. Her music blasted and you screamed at her “you got this bitch” and more encouraging words. She whipped her head around to give you a quick air kiss and then she was gone. You glanced at the monitor that was set up backstage and you’ve never seen the crowd get that excited and loud it was almost deafeningly loud.

(play the song now)

Your music hit and it pulled you out of the trance like state you were in while watching Liv and the crowd. You inhaled deeply, pushing all of your anxiety down. Making your way to the ramp you walked with purpose and cockiness. As soon as the bright lights hit your eyes and the screams and chants hit your ears. You smiled slightly, taking a moment to take the moment in, looking around at all the faces looking back at you. You turned your attention to the task at hand, you finally saw her after all this time, all you had to do was look at her to know that she was not the same person you knew.

As you looked at her she turned her head slowly as she was laid out on the mat, exhausted and in pain. Her face shifted from a painful wince to a confused and furious look. You looked at Liv, making eye contact at the exact same time. You two both shared a look and it was like you read each others mind as you both ran to the ring quickly.

Liv jumped up on the apron and got the ref’s attention as you slid in the ring and took Rhea out with brass knuckles you had put on when you were making your way out to the ramp. When your fist made contact with her face you felt a sense of regret and felt a little guilty for taking her out like that. But there was no time to waste because the ref’s attention was slowly being drawn back to the match that was supposed to be happening behind him. You looked a Charlotte and motioned for her to come over and pin her opponent while she was down and she did.

You tapped the ref on the shoulder and shouted at him, “Come on count, hurry, hurry!” you shouted “one, two, three!” the arena shook on the last count as everyone was counting with the official. “And here’s your winner and new Women’s World Champion Charlotte Flair!” Samantha shouted into the mic there was a mix of disappointment and happiness that filled the arena.

“Rhea” you spoke into the mic was all you said as you knelt beside her. “you’ve gotten to confident haven’t you?” you looked at her shaking your head in a disappointed fashion. “we’ll don’t worry because Me and Liv here are gonna out right back where you belong” you said as you got up to walk away but you stopped for a second a glanced back at her before kneeling beside her again to say one last thing this time not on the mic. “And believe me you deserve it. Don’t forget what you did to me” you said with anger and hurt.

Rhea jumped up, startling you as you stepped out of the ring now on the apron beside Liv. “This isn’t over!” was all you heard from her as you walked back up the ramp, giggling with Liv. On your way back you slowed down to sign some posters, take quick pictures and just meet some of the fans for a brief moment.

When you got back to the top of the ramp before you went through the opening that led to the backstage area you turned around and blew a kiss to the woman in the ring who was fuming while staring at you.

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long for me to post but here it is and i hope you enjoyed this part even though I know it seems a little rushed.

#Spotify #angst #rhea ripley x reader #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe x y/n #liv morgan x reader #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing

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marvelmusing · 1 year ago

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Fixed With A Kiss

Part of the Tender Loving Care AU

Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Summary: Even with the claiming process officially over, the bond between you and Aleksander strengthens with every passing moment.

Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), blood, typical vampire themes, blood consumption, reader feeds on Aleksander, minor injury

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Quiet nights at home with Aleksander have become some of your favourite moments since you went through with the claiming process. His presence has become something you seek out almost every day in some capacity.

Whilst you spend a fair amount of time together at your flat, the peace and quiet of Aleksander’s home is a luxury you find yourself enjoying on a regular basis. Like this evening.

His eyes are fixed on the television in front of you in his living room, the shapes and colours of the TV show playing there reflected in his dark eyes as a small frown creases at his brows. He keeps looking down at the remote control, placed beside his thigh, close at hand, which hasn’t escaped your notice.

Most of the vampire related content you watch together has been vetted by Aleksander’s friend Zoya, whose recommendations have steered you clear of any graphic depictions of humans being turned or more vicious vampire attacks, which you know has been a joint effort between them both to ensure you avoid anything that might make you uncomfortable.

Judging by the way Aleksander’s hand is twitching beside the remote and the tense music building as one of the show’s protagonists ventures into an abandoned warehouse, you seem to be approaching a potentially upsetting scene.

“Would you close your eyes for a moment?” he asks.

There’s only a brief pause before you realise what he means to do and you close your eyes as he presses the mute button.

He breathes out a quiet sigh, humming a light tune as he observes whatever is playing on the screen. Bright flashes of light dance over your eyelids, though all you can hear is Aleksander’s heart beating its familiar rhythm, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the quiet drag of his thumb circling over the button on the remote. So attuned to his presence, you don’t startle when he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, assuring you in a low murmur,

“You can open your eyes now, little one.”

As soon as your eyes are open, you loop your arms around Aleksander’s body, nestling your head against his chest and providing him with an appreciative squeeze. His cheek brushes against the crown of your head as he unmutes the television and begins to briefly summarise what plot point you missed.

Before meeting Aleksander it’s likely you would have berated yourself for being too sensitive whilst watching such a scene and his thoughtfulness has you swallowing down the lump of emotion gathering in your throat. He is more gentle with you than you have ever been with yourself.

Aleksander drapes an arm around you, smoothing his palm down the length of your spine, and you melt into him with a deep sigh of contentment, breathing in his scent as you attempt to dispel the negative thoughts at the edge of your mind. His touch helps to keep you grounded.

When you lift your head up to look at him, his eyes are already on you. The pad of his thumb traces lightly over your lower lip and the sensitive skin there tingles at his touch. The weight of his eyes on you makes your cheeks flush with warmth and you swallow hard at the scent of his blood flowing steadily through his body. The soft t-shirt he’s wearing means that his forearms are exposed to you and your gaze wanders down, admiring the path of veins beneath his skin.

“Go on,” he urges you quietly, nodding in encouragement.

His hands smell of the eucalyptus soap from his bathroom. Tentatively, you press a gentle kiss to the pad of each of his fingers, occasionally glancing up to watch his reaction. There’s a tenderness in his eyes as he watches you, his throat bobbing as he swallows slowly.

Despite his assurances that your fangs are thin enough to be painless for whoever you’re feeding on, there’s always a little apprehension when it comes to biting him somewhere new.

“Wrist or fingers?” you ask. He lifts his shoulder in a light shrug.

“Whichever you would prefer.”

Breathing out a soft huff of exasperation, you tilt your head at him. While you know he usually likes you to make the decisions to ensure you’re comfortable, sometimes it’s easier for Aleksander to make the decision. Especially when it’s something like this where you don’t mind either option, not to mention that you’re curious about what he wants.

“Aleksander, make a decision, please.”

A fond smile plays over his lips and he tilts his head aside as he considers your question. His attention lingers on your lips for a long moment, then he says quietly,

“Fingers, please.”

Aleksander is good at drawing blood from his fingers, using one of his fangs to scrape lightly over the skin there. He’s done it on several occasions to provide you with a small sample of his blood and you feel somewhat confident enough to try feeding from his fingers.

Slowly, you trace your fingertips over the grooves of his palm, feeling the tiny ridges of his fingerprints - a pattern solely unique to him. His hands aren’t completely smooth, there’s some calluses worn into his fingers in a few areas, though you’re certain the state of his hands have changed over the centuries.

Extending your fangs comes naturally now - more than it ever has. With infinite care, you drag the tip of one fang over the side of his finger, tracing along the length of his digit which leaves a thin red line in its wake. He breathes in sharply at the sting but shakes his head when you lift your brow questioningly in case he wants you to stop.

Red fills the line created by your teeth, flowing lightly from the shallow cut. Slowly, you begin to lap up the blood there, allowing it to bloom leisurely before the tip of your tongue follows the length of the cut. His eyes are darkened as your gaze meets his and a warm flush rushes over your cheeks.

The corner of his mouth quirks into a soft smirk that has the warmth on your face spreading down your neck. He tilts his head, eyeing the length of your throat intently which only makes you even more flustered knowing that he can both hear and see your heartbeat thrumming at the sensitive skin over your pulse point.

His blood is sticky, clinging to the grooves in the pad of his fingertips and the lines on his palm. The feeling of his blood lingering on your mouth makes you shiver and you lick your lips regularly to prevent it from drying there. Aleksander’s own tongue traces over his lower lip, his eyes focused on your mouth.

Since the cut is only shallow, the intention of drawing blood from his finger isn’t to gain a substantial feed from him. His expression softens as you lace your fingers with his, excluding the bleeding one, and slowly suckle on the blood.

The taste is as rich as always and there’s a small tang of salt from his skin as you trace your tongue over the cut. As you concentrate on drinking, your eyes flutter closed. Mildly concerned at the thought of his blood getting smeared over the fabric of his sofa, you take his finger into your mouth and begin sucking gently.

The weight of Aleksander’s gaze on your face prompts you to open your eyes and meet his stare directly. The smile he gives you is just as tender as always but there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes that tells you he likes seeing you feed from him just as much as you enjoy doing it.

As the bleeding slows down, you go back to tracing your tongue over the length of the wound. The time between each lick lengthens considerably until you’re able to withdraw from him slightly.

When you let go of Aleksander’s hand he doesn’t retract it instantly. Instead, he brushes his knuckles against your cheek, letting his fingers drop so that he can hook them gently beneath your jaw. He tilts your head up, his eyes scouring yours intently and for a moment you can barely breathe.

He leans in, kissing you softly at first. It’s only once you begin to respond, grasping tentatively onto his shirt to move closer against him, that he puts a little more force into his movements, cupping the back of your head.

Every vampire feels a niggling wrongness at the taste of their own blood and there’s a small crease at the tip of Aleksander’s nose at the taste of his blood lingering on your lips. Nevertheless, he continues kissing you, his mouth working slowly against yours without any hesitation. He holds your head in place, fingers squeezing gently at the nape of your neck and a shiver rolls down your spine.

He rests his forehead against yours as your heartbeat settles, your gaze fixed on his lips - a beautiful kiss flushed pink. After loosening his hold on you, he lowers his hands into his lap, his knees knocking against yours affectionately. Instantly, you clasp onto his hands with your own, smiling softly at him.

Leaning forward, you press a tender kiss to his cheek and his smile widens into something dazzling that has your stomach flipping. The room darkens as the credits of the show begin to roll over the screen.

»»---------------------►

The sound of Aleksander’s front door closing is the first indication of his presence, which has you moving away from the mirror in his living room. The sound of his footsteps heading down the hallway has you stopping in the kitchen to pull on your shoes, using the countertop to keep your balance.

Aleksander’s keys drop heavily onto the side table in his hallway and you lift your head to look at him properly. He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Lift your skirt up,” he says.

Frowning, you glance over at him briefly in confusion before focusing down at your skirt to adjust the position of the waistband on your body.

“Like this?” you ask, searching his expression questioningly. The skirt in question is a new favourite of yours, a deep red fabric that hangs perfectly mid thigh.

He shakes his head, eyes darkening further as he steps towards you in a few smooth strides. Then he drops down onto his knees, lifting the fabric of your skirt so that he can press his lips against your thighs in a flurry of kisses that make you squirm.

His sudden attention catches you off balance, a tiny noise of surprise catching in the back of your throat. Your fingers curl around the edge of the kitchen countertop, squeezing the marble tightly as a blush burns through your body.

“This skirt,” he remarks in a low tone, and his voice trails off distractedly as he continues to mouth over your skin.

“You like it?” you ask breathlessly.

Something that sounds like a disbelieving laugh escapes his lips before he remarks,

“Like it?”

His blunt teeth graze gently over the curve of your thigh and you can feel your pulse thrumming throughout your entire body, a dizzying rhythm that has you shifting your weight.

Aleksander’s kisses move hungrily over your skin and you gasp at the sensation. His facial hair scrapes gently over your inner thighs, the subtle coarseness there leaving a delightful tingle in its wake. He breathes out a pleased sound, smiling up at you, and your stomach flips as your eyes meet. Then he doubles his efforts to kiss every inch of your bare thighs.

“Your heart rate is rather elevated,” he muses quietly between kisses. Whatever retort you were thinking of fades on the tip of your tongue as his nose brushes against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh much higher than before.

He curls his hand around your wrist, guiding your hand over your skirt to encourage you to grasp at the material, holding it in place for him to settle his palms on the space above your knees. When his teeth graze lightly over your skin once again, you attempt to squirm but he holds you firmly in place.

As your grip tightens on both your skirt and the countertop, you fear you might rip the fabric, which would no doubt disappoint both yourself and Aleksander given how much you both seem to like it. His nose brushes over the waistband of your panties, his tongue tracing the crease between your thigh and your hip.

There’s a peculiar crunching sound, at the edge of your awareness, though you don’t pay much attention to it. Aleksander notices before you do, lifting his head up to look at your hand which is still gripping the countertop. Then you feel the sting of pain and smell the scent of blood blooming from where the broken marble has bitten into your skin.

“Oh,” you remark quietly, staring down incredulously at the red smeared over your open palm. Have you just broken his countertop? “That happened.”

Aleksander stands immediately, taking hold of your hips to slide you over to the left towards the sink. He hooks his hands beneath the crook of your knees, lifting you up onto the countertop. His touch is delicate as he holds your wounded hand, guiding it under the tap as he turns on the water.

A soft smile curls at your lips as you observe the drastic shift in his expression, from hungrily mouthing at your thighs to tending a little injury. His motions are protective, one hand focusing on cleaning your blood away whilst the other rubs soothing circles over your knee as if he’s attempting to distract you - either from the pain or the blood itself.

“How did I do that?” you ask quietly.

Aleksander glances up at you, dark eyes scouring over your features.

“When a vampire is well fed, we can sometimes access the supernatural strength that humans often believe we possess.”

That has never happened before, although feeding on blood regularly is a habit you’ve never been able to stick to.

“So, it’s a good thing?”

He kisses your cheek.

“Yes. It is.”

Warmth prickles over your face, creeping down your neck as embarrassment settles in your stomach and you glance down at the snapped edge of marble.

“I’m sorry about your countertop.”

He shakes his head, dismissing your concerns as he takes your chin between his fingers to guide your eyes back to his.

“Accidents happen.”

Amusement glimmers in his gaze and you suspect he is secretly quite pleased that he has had such an effect on you. He smiles, bringing your wounded hand up to his lips so that he can kiss the small scrape and you try not to squirm at such a tiny gesture.

“Would you like a plaster?” he asks.

“It’ll heal in a few minutes,” you say dismissively.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Your cheeks heat with a flustered warmth once again, then you nod shyly.

“Okay.”

He leans over to open up a cupboard, crouching to retrieve a small box filled with a variety of different plasters of all shapes and sizes. As he rummages through the contents to find the right one for your hand, you pick up a stray plaster decorated in a floral pattern, twirling it between your fingers.

“Why do you have all these?”

Vampires heal quickly; plasters aren’t something you’ve ever considered buying for yourself.

“Nina and Matthias have a hellhound puppy that I like to babysit sometimes.” He breathes out a soft laugh, a fond expression filling his features. “When he was going through the teething stage, Zoya barely went a week without wanting a plaster to incite some sympathy from me.”

He holds out a selection of plasters, all the same size and shape but with differing patterns.

“Take your pick,” he says with a small smile, which you mirror bashfully, looking down at your options. After a brief moment of consideration, you point down at a pink plaster adorned in tiny red hearts.

Aleksander nods in approval, tucking the others away before he peels the backing off your selected plaster. His brows draw together as he concentrates on placing the plaster perfectly over the scrape on your hand.

“There we go.”

He presses a gentle kiss to the plaster and the warm brush of his lips through the material has a delightful shiver running down your spine. Once he releases your hand, he skims his knuckles gently over your cheek, his eyes assessing your expression intently.

When your eyes flutter slightly and you lean into his touch, he cradles the side of your face with his hand, his thumb circling lightly against the space between your jaw and your ear.

“Would you like to continue where we were heading?” he asks in a low voice.

Pleasure swirls in your stomach, eager to feel his hands and mouth on your body once again, though the turn taken in the last few minutes is weighing on your mind.

Sinking your hands into his hair would give you some stability and avoid a repeat of what had happened to the countertop, but the thought of unintentionally accessing your unused strength has you hesitating. Nervously, you run the pad of your thumb over the edge of the plaster on your palm.

“I won’t accidentally hurt you, will I?”

He shakes his head.

“No, you won’t.”

You frown, narrowing your eyes at his casually confident tone.

“But how do you know?”

His hips press flush against yours as he drops a kiss onto your cheek. He lowers his lips to trace over your jawline, mouthing lazily along the length of your neck.

“I just do.”

He continues his kisses, thoroughly distracting you, and a heated blush spreads over your cheeks. Warmth rushes down your body once again, pooling in your stomach and a blissful feeling runs beneath your skin, filling your head with a haze that you want to lean into.

“So, would you like to continue?” he asks smoothly. You nod eagerly but once again he waits for you to find your voice. Warmth spreads over your cheeks as your eyes lock and you say quietly,

“Yes, please.”

He kisses the tip of your nose and a smile blooms over your face which he mirrors instantly. His nose brushes gently against yours as he leans in, kissing you softly. His lips move slowly, matching your own movements as you kiss him back.

When you grasp onto the front of his shirt, urging him closer, he tilts his head, furthering the kiss as he presses himself between your parted thighs. Your hands scramble over the fabric covering his chest and shoulders, your nails digging into the material. He breathes out a soft laugh against your lips, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

you shift your hips forward, over the marble countertop towards him, though his hands on your waist quickly stop you in your tracks and you frown at him. He presses a kiss to the crease between your brows.

“Let me take care of you.”

A blush burns over your cheeks at his heady gaze, now fixed on where your skirt has been bunched up over your hips. Nerves begin to bloom in your stomach as you begin to suspect what he means.

“On your kitchen countertop?” you ask incredulously, raising a brow at him. His smile is almost boyish, white teeth flashing as he looks up at you with a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. As your gaze lowers, your thighs shift nervously.

“I haven’t… No one’s ever…”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. His voice is low and gentle as he prompts some elaboration from you.

“Never?”

You shake your head.

“It wasn’t proper when I was human. After I turned, I never felt comfortable enough. With a vampire I was scared of getting hurt again, and with a human I was scared of hurting them.”

He runs a slow circle over your kneecap with the pad of his thumb, brows drawn together as he processes your admission.

“If you don’t want this-” he begins.

“I do,” you insist earnestly, your gaze lowering to his parted lips. “I really do.”

“I can go gently - if you’d like that?”

His lashes flutter as his eyelids close in a few slow blinks, his lips lingering delicately on your thigh - the barest hint of a kiss - and your body aches for more. You shake your head.

“I want you, Aleksander. Please.”

He hums in acknowledgement, his eyes no longer fixed on your face, and your insides squeeze when you realise he’s staring at your underwear, on display due to the bunched up state of your skirt.

The thought of Aleksander being able to smell your arousal lurks in the back of your mind and the urge to close your legs seizes you. He seems to anticipate such a move, his palms settling over each of your thighs to prevent it.

“Do you trust me?” he asks softly.

“You know I do.”

He nods, determination settling into his eyes as he reaches for the waistband of your underwear. The breath that leaves you is a little shaky, though you can’t tell whether the cause is nerves or anticipation. His hands drop back onto your knees, curled into light fists to keep his fingers from grasping at you.

“Relax, little one. I have you.”

Some of the tension slips from your spine at his words. His mouth returns to your thighs, resuming his earlier task of tracing over the sensitive skin there though he now seems to have a particular destination on his mind.

His nose nudges purposefully against the fabric of your underwear and your responding squirm is involuntary. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs gently in reassurance before his hands smooth back upwards once again towards the fabric at your hips. His words are murmured against the material there.

“You’re sure?”

Even though he can’t see it, you nod.

“Yes.”

He peels your underwear down smoothly, hooking a hand under each of your thighs individually to move the fabric away from the curve of your backside. Your hand sinks into his hair, grasping at the strands for some sense of stability and a low noise hums in his throat. Then he leans in between your thighs.

He starts slowly at first, gauging your reaction to the tentative strokes of his tongue. The sensation has your stomach flipping and your grip on him tightens as you gasp, which seems to encourage him to push himself closer. He increases his speed, lapping eagerly, and his enthusiasm has your hips jerking towards his mouth.

The movement of his lips is as unrelenting as his kisses often are - the kind that drives the air from your lungs.

Despite the pleasure thrumming through your body, the knowledge that you’re sitting perched on his kitchen countertop lingers in the back of your mind. Self consciousness itches down your spine, buzzing through your thoughts.

Without lifting his head, Aleksander reaches for your hand - the one not in his hair - entwining his fingers with yours. The knot in your chest loosens somewhat with his comfort and you gasp shakily at the next swipe of his tongue. A broken moan startles itself from your throat and heat burns over your cheeks at the sound.

Pleasure winds itself tighter in your stomach, prickling delightfully over your skin. Your thoughts are melting into a puddle of sensation, fuelled by the movement of Aleksander’s lips. His facial hair grazes over the apex of your thighs and light scrape has tingles spreading across your skin.

A faint whisper of his name falls from your lips, though you doubt he can hear you. Aleksander seems to be losing himself in the act just as much as you are, judging by the low moans reverberating in the back of his throat.

Your grip on him tightens further, fisting his hair and squeezing his fingers as a warm, blissful feeling swoops through your stomach, plummeting downwards. A fine gloss of sweat clings to your skin as the heat thrumming through your body nears its peak.

Aleksander suckles on your swollen bundle of nerves, tongue flicking over the sensitive nub. A small cry escapes from the back of your throat and your body arches into his mouth. You gasp his name over and over as pleasure tightens your muscles, dragging your body to a dizzying climax. Heat burns almost painfully over your cheeks at the sensation of your release dripping from you, smearing over Aleksander’s face.

Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath. A soft haze has overtaken your mind, clouding your thoughts. There’s a minute ache in your fingers, flexing them a little as you loosen your hold on Aleksander’s hair.

He tilts his head aside, looking up at you with a small smile as you begin to thread your fingers through the strands of hair, admiring the faint shimmers of silver buried amongst his dark locks. His other hand is still clasping yours and he gives it a small squeeze of reassurance.

Satisfaction warms beneath your skin as he leans forward, nuzzling his nose against your thigh. He presses a tender kiss to the heated skin, smiling when you shiver. Then he stands, turning the water on over the sink and retrieving a cloth to clean himself.

A frown creases at your brows as you swing your legs, and you ask tentatively,

“But don’t you want more?”

He tilts his head towards you, eyes scouring over your face as he lathers soap over his hands. The scent of eucalyptus fills the air around you as he shakes his head.

“I told you, we go at your pace,” he insists softly. The gentle smile he gives you has warmth spreading through your chest. “Baby steps, that’s all.”

“Even with this?”

He nods, his expression earnest.

“Especially with this.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

TLC Tag List: @holamor @that-sarcastic-writer @vaguekayla @ramadiiiisme

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#tender loving care au #aleksander morozova x reader #vampire!reader #vampire!aleksander morozova #vampire au #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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astrayrogue · 1 year ago

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Boys, why was that necessary?

Recommend to unmute

#baldur's gate 3 #video #gale of waterdeep #astarion #bg3 #astrayrogue plays

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running-tweezers · 7 months ago

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After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

#ARE YOU HAPPY SKYLAR I DID IT #Decided just to do it here bc I’m iffy about ao3’s weird original work policies #I love these two so much #they are the majority of my Google docs right now #I want other ppl to love them as much as I do #marisa writes #marisa’s ocs

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