#The Perfect thing is in reference to my A little different fic but basically May there doesn't get the darkness megastone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apparentlyaswarmofbees · 3 years

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EVEN MORE Small Things to Imagine With The Brothers and Undatables

Because I got in a good mood after listening to 'My Narrow Road' from Ito Kashitaro. I recomend! it’s good!

Lucifer

The way he squints challengely at you when you spot a single paper plane on the corner of his office that looks suspisciously like a document.

The ultimate betrayal as he nudges the back of your knees with his own consequently making you almost lose balance.

The concentrated furrow of his brows upon his closed eyes as he tests the sounds of an old violin, big eyelashes slowly fluttering open as he gives a satisfied smile.

Present him a plushie and enjoy the sight as he takes a final look at his documents and any lost messages before going to bed, all the while keeping said plushie confortably sitting on his leg, his fingers absentmindely rubbing the soft texture every once in a while

Mammon

The casualness as you fix each other's clothes and accessories, your hands unwrinkling his collar, his fiddling with your own. Expect to have any long sleeves you wear suddenly be folded up whenever you guys sit near each other.

The teasing peek of skin from his belly and hips as his shirt rolls up just enough when he stretches his arms up with a very long, and slightly exagerated, yawn.

Having him laying on his arms on your middle, the adorable scrunch of his face, rubbing it on his arms as he tries to wipe off the growing smile on his lips when you give his nose an affectionate and gentle pinch.

Peeking from behind a tree and having him chase you around in circles until either of you decide to just to grab onto the other forcefully.

Leviathan

Tying his bangs in a cute little ponytail on the top of his head and watching as he refuses to undo it with pride for the entire day if the tie used was Ruri-Chan themed.

Making voices with him in front of a fan on a hot day, and watching as he starts to make more and more different voices and references the more confortable he gets.

Watching as Henry follows his owner's movements as he wanders back and forth in front of the big aquarium in a rant.

Hugging him close and playing with his hair as he burries his entire face on your shoulder and squeezing you closer with his arms each passing minute until he finally relaxes.

Satan

Challenging each other to read the most ridiculous crack fics in the most dramatic poet voice manageable and watching as he struggles to keep his composure.

The ridiculously serious and concentrated frown on his face as he tries to make a perfect ketchup cat on the top of an omelette and the ridiculously cute proud smirk on his lips as his eyes shine brightly at his successfull creation.

Talking to him about a show he has already watched and the undoubtedly excited fidgeding of his body as he struggles both to not spoil you of anything and to not give you omnious comments about what you should expect next.

Alternativelly, his coninuous gaze as he tries to read into every single detail on your facial expressions in a curious attempt to see if it gives out what he should expect to happen next on a show you have watched and recomended to him.

Asmodeus

The sight of him humming along to a tune with an absentminded smile as he paints his toe nails. There are clips in his hair to keep his bangs away from his eyes, toe separators on his feet and definetelly a few stains on his hands.

The way he looks in your direction with a wrigling brow as he flips his scarf dramatically over his shoulder in front of a store's one sided mirror.

Sharing a candied apple and watching as he smiles, small pieces of candy still stuck on and off his lips, giddy at both the idea of sharing it with you and the sweet taste of the lovely treat.

The happy twirl he gives as he shows off to you the new outfit he bought, clapping excitedly after having you do the same to him, possibly with the help of his own hand, spinning you smoothly almost like in a dance.

Beelzebub

Kissing the very tip of his nose and watching as the corners of his mouth squishes his reddening cheeks as he smiles so hard to the point he may not even be able to keep his eyes open anymore.

The almost bratty but adorable pout he gives when you deny him a sample of the still in process of making food before he proceeds to basically glue himself to your back, his head resting on your shoulders or head, expectant eyes watching as you move.

The sight of his hunk figure crouching down in front of a flower bed, his careful fingers giving the flowers a series soft and gentle nudges and touches, his face devoid of expression as he pays attention to every single detail. He nods, his face now carrying a satisfied smile. They were healthy.

Having him gladly and happily bend his head down to your height as you reach your hands into his hair, giving him a well deserved head pat.

Belphegor

Hanging up a blanket on top of a very throughly organized nest of pillows and stuffed animals in the dark, snuggling to him shoulder to shoulder, a flashlight in one hand, Grimm Fairy Tales on the other.

Watching as he succumbs himself to the rule of kittens as he lays down on the floor, giving a free pass for the small felines to climb and snuggle into his face, neck and body all they wanted.

Whispering ridiculous things right into each other's ears in an attempt to make the other laugh out loud in the worst places and situations.

Curling with him under a big blanket on a cold day, each with their own mug of hot chocolate. The adorable sight of a very obvious cream moustache that has made it's place on the sleepy demon's face.

Solomon

Taking Use of the closeness of your boddies while cuddling as an opportunity to tickle the hell out of him and watching as he struggles to decide if he should focus on getting out of your betraying hold or if he should keep on blocking your wriggling hands that keep reaching for his most sensitive spots.

Going on a small trip to the human world and somehow ending the day laughing your hearts out as you ride a two seats bike, that came equipped with two very nostalgic bells, together.

Sitting together with your backs touching, the immortal sorcerer closing his eyes, you being able to feel his every breath as he inhales and exhales, his body relaxing and melting into your presence alone.

Taking part of his shenanigans in the kitchen, feeding each other surprisingly edible samples, a happy smile never once leaving his face.

Simeon

Having your feet on top of his or his on top of yours as you both give in an attempt at slow dancing, his chuckles reverberating between your touching bodies, the vibrations leaving behind a small and giddy tingle on your skin.

Having him sit on the floor in front of you, your fingers combing through his dark hair and his body becoming more and more slouched as you attempt to style the silky strands into a braid.

Hands linked in the air for balance as each of you walk alongside an abandoned rail trail together, both of you aware, almost sheepishly, of how cheesy said action in fact was.

Sitting side by side on top of a tree branch, his fingers softly holding onto yours as both of you gaze into the distance, a gentle breeze swaying your clothes as the two of you enjoy a moment of confortable silence.

Diavolo

Teaching him various types dances and styles, his beautiful laugh echoing through the walls as he both succeeds and fumbles in his gestures, bright eyes attently paying attention and mimicking your every movement.

Going to the carnival together, watching as the prince of hell almost bounces on his feet from attraction to attraction, all the while while wearing a cute animal eared headband he completelly refused to take off until he stepped inside his own castle.

Introducing him to the human world "magicians", his face morphing through a chain of expressions as he watches in wonderous amazement tricks ranging from simple card tricks to making things desappear, reapear and multiply.

Kissing each other all over the face, little smoochy noises getting mixed with a fit of giggles as both of you were set on not leaving a single patch of skin unkissed, even thought the two of you were now smiling too hard to even do it properly.

Barbatos

Introducing him to fruit carving and watching as it slowly becomes like a new hobby for him. The buttler's posture and face turning into something almost fondly relaxed as he skillfully turns various types of fruits into beautiful shapes of objects, animals and flowers.

Giving each other an almost smirk like smile as you Link your arms together, the two of you bringing your respective glasses to your lips before drinking from the liquid at the same time.

Convincing him to try out scented candles, watching as he judges each option throughly, his expressions going through slight, almost unseen changes as he closes his eyes momentarily so he focuses solely on his senses of smell.

Gloved protective hands craddling your head onto his shoulder and firmly holding onto your back, the flicker of an almost sorrowfull expression threatening to break through his usual deadpan demanor gone unseen as he, strangely, hopes for his presence to be of enough confort.

#my heart was beating so fast all throughout the entire process of writting this #obey me!#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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mehphoobia · 3 years

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Hello! Can you write a fic where Shawn and Y/n were childhood friends who always had feelings for one another but never acted on it, Shawn is a werewolf and Y/n can be any supernatural being. They're mates but before they get to learn about that, that is when they're 18 or something, Y/n leaves the town for some reason after shawn and Y/n had a little fall out and basically the story is like...she comes back to town and they fic their relationship and stuff... Its a weird request I know😭😭😭 can this possibly be a story?

Your request is my command my dear anonymous..I don't see why can't it be a story...your request is beautiful. 😊😉

DEAL

Pairing- werewolf!shawn x witch!reader

Warnings-none (i got emotional while writing it )

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You were eight when you moved to a new town. It may look like an ordinary town but it wasn't. It was an ordinary town, only full of werewolves.

Like any other kid you were excited for your first day. You got up early that day brushed your teeth, used your favorite shampoo and especially no tantrums while eating your breakfast. Your father looked wide eyed at you shoving food down your throat. Well getting you to eat was his job and he was painfully aware as to how difficult that would be. But today was different.

You looked like a happy pumpkin bouncing on the streets. Your mother couldn't help smile when your father looked at her while scrunching his nose to point how adorable you looked. Your father warned you that the school here might be different from what you had earlier. You nodded your head as he walked you to the school.

Being different was not a problem but being the only one who was different might be a tricky situation. Your entire class was full of werewolves. Naturally you attracted some attention to yourself. You felt shy when their eyes dug into your soul. But there was this one guy, all smiles. He wouldn't stop smiling at you. After some time it became contagious. You couldn't help but smile too. So you decided to sit next to him.

During the break, he turned to you with a butterfly origami and put it on your table. "Hey my name is Shawn. You are going to be my best friend. Deal?" he said as he extended the butterfly to you. You chuckled as to how hard he was trying to hide his authorative nature. "Deal, my name is Y/N." you said as you took the butterfly and looked at it.

As the years went by, you grew up to be just like Shawn. When other girls were busy gossiping about others, you were interested in basketball. Most girls would wear tight fitting dresses, comfy jeans and sweatshirts were your best-friends, and only God knows how may of them would be Shawn's. That guy loved seeing you in his T-shirts.

"Would you be there?" you asked as you looked at the night sky while the both of you laid on the grass. "Have I never?" he nudged your nose, referring to your tournament that you had the next day. "No and that's why I love you." you said with ease not knowing what it meant. He looked towards your direction and smiled a bit. The only thing that hadn't changed was his smile. He had smooth golden skin with a well built body, with curls dangling on his forehead. His golden eyes that shun in the moonlight and a jaw line so sharp it could cut through paper. He could easily be the most attractive guy you had ever seen. You weren't the only one who found him attractive though.

Girls ogled at him when walked through the halls. But he never had eyes for any of them. He should be out there socializing with people as he was going to be a part of pack elections. "You are special" he would say every time you asked him why were you the only person in school he ever hanged out with.

On the day of the tournament, you were standing inside the court as you looked for Shawn. He was there with his girlfriend, Kate who was only busy showing him off on her instagram. "All the best! pumpkin" Shawn mouthed, "Ice cream later. Deal?" you mouthed him back. he laughed and said, "Deal."

The game began with a whistle and the ball with your team members. They passed it to you and bam! shot. The crowd roared when the ball went inside the hoop. Minute after minute hoops were being scored and your team could practically smell victory. All those months of practice came down to a penalty shot. There you stood, dribbling the ball and aimed for the hoop. Before shooting you looked at Shawn who smiled at you in reassurance. The crowd was on their heels when the ball went through the hoop. Your team members had engulfed you when the whistle blew. You looked for Shawn to tell him that the ice cream would be his treat but then you saw him.

His lips were locked with Kate's. They were kissing each other so passionately as if they were always meant to be. Then it struck you, Shawn had a mate. A person who has waited all their life for Shawn and just because you liked him, you couldn't hold on to him forever. He was not meant to be yours.

You didn't realize when you sunk in the crowd and took an exit. You plunged on your bed, just staring at your ceiling. You ignored Shawn's messages and calls as you switched off your phone.

"Honey bear? All good?" your mother asked you as she took a seat next to yours. "Yeah, mom just tired" you got up sitting on your bed. "Oh come on, tell me." she enquired as she caressed your head.

"Mom--" you trailed off as she stopped you mid-sentence. "Shawn kissed a girl?" your mother asked with astonishment. "How did you know?" you questioned back, wide eyed.

"I am a witch Y/N." she said uninterestingly. You talked to your mother about the entire incident and your feelings towards Shawn. Your mother smiled and told you that maybe you should take a break.

"Take a break?" you squealed. "Y/N you are 17, you have to train how to control your powers. What if you just put a curse on someone or what if you start hearing people's thoughts? That can be very disturbing trust me." your mother explained. You were shocked but this seemed to be a perfect idea to get away from these things, to think where you stood with Shawn, to get things back to normal.

Your family helped you pack your stuff and you still hadn't talked to Shawn. You were gonna go for a year, complete you high school online and Shawn should know this but you knew you wouldn't be able to leave after you meet him. So you decided to leave just like that. You clutched your hoody, Shawn's hoody as you passed through his house. All those ice cream treats, treks, knowing each other's breakfast order by heart, all those origami pieces Shawn made for you that you had kept safely in a box under your bed they had to mean something. They meant a lot to you and you had to know if they meant to him as well.

Shawn was worried. you hadn't talked to him for three days. He decided to talk to you in school but when he saw your mother emptying your belongings in a bag, he rushed to ask her what was going on.

Before he could even begin your mother said, "You should have told her Shawn." she turned to face him. "Mrs. L/N if this is about the kiss-" "you should have told her you both are mates." she stopped Shawn while he was speaking. "Where is she?" he asked with desperation in his voice. "She left for her training. You wouldn't be seeing each other for a year" you mother explained. It was very painful for her to watch the evergreen smile which adorned Shawn's face disappear.

Although he was confident you would come back to him. After all you were mates for a reason. He dated girls in school just to stop malicious rumors about him and he didn't like how girls threw themselves in front of him. So he dated girls just for a distraction. It was going to be a hell of a year. Little did he know it was going to be even worse of you.

You practiced during the day endlessly. Spent your days in the library. But it wasn't the day that was trouble. Ever since you had left Shawn's embrace your peaceful nights were replaced by visions. Visions full of memories that weren't even yours. Memories of Shawn, how would it be to have him in your life forever. They were dreams in some sort of way but it hurt too much, imagining something to be yours when you knew that something, someone wasn't supposed to be.

A year passed away dreadfully. Every day it was Shawn in your head and half way across the town you were in his. When you saw your mother after an year, you hid yourself in her embrace. She brushed her hand through your hair, which had grown longer. Funny how the time had passed getting the feminine side of yours. What freaked you out was looked exactly like the person in your visions.

The town looked exactly the same as if you had travelled back in time. You opened the car's window to breathe in the delicate fragrance of wet grass and you sensed him. His earthy smell, his warm embrace. You breathed in the familiar smell as you stepped down the car. One year of feelings, tears that you had held back in you gave up and wet your pink tinted cheeks. You started following the smell and you knew exactly where it headed, to the lawn where Shawn and you spent your evenings together. Could you ever forget it? No because you loved him with all your heart.

Then you saw him. It was like your vision had come alive. His hair grew longer which rustled as the wind blew. The moment he caught your scent he turned to you and the next moment you were running towards him. He held you as if you would disappear the next moment if he didn't.

"Y/N I am sor--" he said and you cut him off. "Shh, Don't say anything." you whispered through your tears. you loved the man who was always there for you. All this time when you thought it was just a crush it wasn't. You were ready to tell him you lo--

"I love you" he suddenly said making you flinch. "You were going to say that weren't you?" he smiled as he brushed his hands through your hair. "How did you?" you gawked at him. He nudged your nose as he said, "You are my mate Y/N. I have known this since the moment I saw you. I have been having visions of you since. I love you and I always have and always will and nothing, no one can change that. " he whispered as he reached the end of his sentence.

He kissed you as he cupped his cheeks. The moment his lips touched yours, you closed your eyes and saw a little girl playing in Shawn's arms. Shawn saw it too and the tears that shun like diamonds flew down his cheeks. Never breaking the kiss he caressed your cheeks. That's when you knew they weren't just memories they were visions of your future together that you would share. You looked at him filled your heart with his embrace.

"You still owe me that ice cream treat." you chuckled as you coiled your arms around his waist.

"Deal" he smiled as he kissed your forehead.

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A/N: Oh what a beautiful request . You guys are so creative with your plots, it just makes me so happy. there are a lot of werewolf fics which are similar to this plot but this request bars was new in its own way. Thank you for letting me write this and i hope my dear anonymous finds this fic satisfying.

REQUESTS OPEN, so go ahead, flood my mailbox, its all your anyways.

Love yourself...you are worth it ❣❣

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking. He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly.

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach.

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things.

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end.

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

Text

The Distraction Continuation (Ghostface / Jed Olsen / Danny Johnson x Reader)

As requested, this is a continuation of the Distraction fic I made. Check out the first fic if you haven’t already. Enjoy! :)

You sighed deeply as you crossed your arms, shutting your eyes in slight annoyance at what was to come. Another trial. You hadn’t been in one for a while but your break was rather short-lived. There were three others that stood by your side. Ace Visconti, David King, and Yui Kimura. You respected them and actually enjoyed their company. Ace was funny, David taught you a couple of things, and Yui was always nice to you, encouraging you.

“Where do you think we’ll go this time?” Yui asked you, nudging your elbow with her own. You instantly lit up. Human interaction was comforting.

“Haven’t been to Hawkins or Glenvale in a bit.” Y/N replied with a slight shrug.

“My bet is the asylum.” Ace interrupted, pointing finger guns with that stupid smirk of his. Yui rolled her eyes, she didn’t seem to like Ace very much. Not since he flirted with her one time, even if it was jokingly.

“We might actually be there if Ace himself says so.” David said as the familiar gust of air surrounded the four of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, getting chills from the cold fog and air. The smell of fire and spring overcame you. Y/N opened their eyes, realizing that Ace’s bet was right. As always. A small laugh escaped your lips, a feeling of enjoyment before all hell could break loose again.

Your gaze averted to the familiar structure of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. A sound played in your head, the screech of the Nurse. You were always curious about her but never got the chance to even talk to her unlike... no, it was one time. You weren’t gonna go around and try talk to killers like you did with him.

You put your palm to your forehead, cringing at the memory. Not in a bad way but maybe you could’ve done something differently. No, not really. Jed was a psychopath, a murderer. He was charming in a fucked up sort of way. You sighed as you walked towards a generator behind the grey brick walls.

There wasn’t any indication that it was the Pig or Freddy, thankfully. You began to work on the generator. Your thoughts turned to the fear of being hooked, stabbed, and hurt. You shuddered at the thought of it, the feeling of the hook would probably never leave you. Death was forever here, unfortunately. Elodie and Felix’s conversation had given you hope, maybe there was a way out of here.

“Shit.” You mumble as you shielded your eyes from the small explosion.

Y/N huffed. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself and began again. Your head perked up as you heard stomping. It wasn’t loud enough to be the Oni or Trapper.

You kept a head on the generator as you noticed a dark figure stomping towards you. You needed a moment to process the situation. It was Ghostface? Oh shit, it was him, you thought. Flashbacks of your last encounter played in your head, he was definitely pissed off and you couldn’t blame it at this point.

“Don’t fucking try it.” He muttered in reference to you breaking into a sprint.

You felt panic wash over you as you quickly observed your surroundings. There weren’t any nearby pallets or vaults, it was a random open area near a hill with a chest and hook. Perfect, just perfect. Ghostface was quicker than usual, he grabbed you by the waist aggressively to tackle you down.

Ghostface held a knife to the back of your head once you hit the ground. You grunted as he put down all his weight onto you and assured that you wouldn’t be able to escape. The ground felt so uncomfortable, especially against your face. There was a few moments of you struggling beneath him to escape but it became no use. You stopped struggling after he pressed the blade against your skin.

“Didn’t bring a toolbox this time, Y/N?” He asked mockingly, pressing his gloved finger over the small slit. You winced at the stinging sensation but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“You know how to hold a grudge, Jed.” You replied. You were utterly terrified yet you always felt the need to reply to his stupid remarks.

“Indeed I do.” He replied, grabbing you and making you stand up. He held the knife to your back and pressed it slightly.

Ghostface was actually angry. He didn’t seem to mind actually hurting you or pressing the knife into your skin. You gasped at the painful sensation as he looked around, he saw the killer shack. He held a tight grip on your shoulder as he forced you to walk that way.

You instantly knew where he wanted to go. You just hoped the basement wasn’t there. Of course, you had known that this day would eventually come. But, why now? It was such awful timing, especially with the blue mood you had. Once the two of you reached the shack, he shoved you onto the ground aggressively.

“You’re pathetic... talking and talking last time we met. Now, you’re just a shitty excuse for a survivor.” He said to you. You scoffed.

“If it helps, Jed, I’m sorry.” Y/N replied. Your hand reached to the back of your neck where he had cut you. There wasn’t much blood but it still hurt. You stared at your bloodied fingertips as the man got more infuriated.

“You don’t get to call me that. And why the fuck are you apologizing?” He questioned you. His tone was venomous, this terrified you but him killing you was inevitable and well... you wanted to see him, anyways.

“If you didn’t care, you’d have hooked me now. I must’ve really hurt your feelings, huh?” You said, half-jokingly but you were also genuine.

“I don’t care.” He replied to you almost instantly. You knew that was a lie.

“Then why won’t you hook me? You could’ve slashed my back open but instead you pinned me to the ground... weirdo.” You mumbled.

He fell silent for a second. Ghostface was a bit baffled by you. Why weren’t you begging for your life? The version he remembered of you was different, or maybe he killed too many survivors that would beg. Not only that but he planned this out thoroughly. He was practically counting on you to scream and beg for your life. Ghostface had even made an offering for this realm because he researched it extensively, as he did with most of his previous murders.

Despite what he may have thought, Y/N was absolutely terrified. However, there was a strange feeling of attraction to him. Not necessarily a crush just yet but there was also a rivalry in which you felt comfortable talking to him. He felt like a real person. Well, of course he was a real person but you had no trouble making shitty remarks to him.

“I want this to last because you were being a little bitch last time. I’ve been dying to slice you open and make you regret that stupid little stunt you pulled.” He said to you.

You sat up, bringing one knee to your chest casually. There was a feeling of bravery that washed over you like last time. Y/N sighed deeply and looked around the shack. It was a basic shake. No totem, no gen.

“Yeah, sure... then do it.” You said to him.

“You’re not making this any easier.” He replied, more annoyed with you.

“Nothing you do is gonna make me regret what I did. Even if you do kill me and make me suffer, I’m still gonna come back alive. I’ve been puked on, trapped, and even had some weird ass trap put onto my head.” You said, standing up and pointing your finger to his chest.

“But you, Danny, only have a knife. I know the Legion or whatever their names are can use that better than you. You’re just a weirdo with a mask.” Y/N finished.

Ghostface seemed rather stunned, yet offended. Mainly because he couldn’t doubt anything you said. It became known that the Legion studied the human anatomy extensively, more than Danny ever cared to do. His area of expertise was stalking and memorizing a person’s schedule. But still. his ego was always bigger than any logic. The cloaked man grabbed your wrist. He oddly didn’t grab it too tight, he lifted your arm over your head.

“And what does that make you? I’m still better than you to some degree. You’re trapped here because the Entity thinks you deserve it and I get to kill anybody I desire.” He said, the tip of his blade poking your stomach.

“I guess we’re both shitty people.” You shrugged as his grip somewhat loosened. He sighed deeply before throwing you towards the generator.

“I had hoped killing you would be satisfying.” He muttered, bitter that your reaction wasn’t what he imagined. You fixed your shirt slightly and leaned against the generator. A part of slowly began to accept the growing crush you developed on the strange murderer, you didn’t care at this point since you were damned to an eternity of trials.

“It probably would’ve been if you weren’t so easy to talk to.” You said to him as he snapped his head towards you, confused for a moment. Easy to talk to? He scoffed in response.

“Easy? You’re the fucking weirdo here.” He said, with a bit of a defeated tone.

“You’re no ladykiller, Danny, but... I’m charmed. I guess it’s something killers like you do though.” You said to him.

“I don’t charm or seduce people. I watch them.” He corrected you.

“Explains a lot.” You said, looking at your nails. Ghostface was quick to give into his ego and crossed his arms in a very stubborn manner.

“Actually, I did. As Jed Olsen, anyways. People were so trusting of him and neglected to suspect the new guy in town. It made it easy to watch people and I had a lot of excuses to spend hours doing so.” He said to you.

“Jed sounds nice.” Y/N shrugged.

“Well, Jed isn’t real, babe. He’s a shitty facade of what people like in a person. Made it so much easier for myself.” Ghostface said.

“Okay then,.. what did you do? As a career?” You asked him.

“I was a journalist and wrote for the Roseville Gazette. They made me cover my own killings and I did a good job doing so. Nobody could really understand my work though, no matter how much I tried to when I was Jed.” He said, a proud tone in his voice as he spoke. You were weirded out and cautious but you wanted to try and understand him.

“So, is that why you do it? For art?” You asked him as his head perked.

“That’s exactly why! There’s something very beautiful about the redness unique to somebody pouring out of them, even mixing with others. Not only that but just toying around and seeing how loud one can scream. Each scream is so unique and different. And just like art, you can fix your mistakes if it isn’t done right.” He explained, he seemed more relaxed.

“Fix? But wouldn’t they be dead?” You asked him, genuinely confused.

“You have to be an expert craftsman to fix it. A scream is a delicacy, something I choose not to indulge myself in often. Y’know, don’t want anybody hearing what goes on. When I do want to hear the screaming, it’s usually when my target has piqued my interest or mildly annoyed me. It feels rewarding after going through all the effort to memorize their lifestyle.” He said.

“A weird but cool way of looking at it, I suppose.” Y/N said.

You didn’t really care about morality at this point. Such things as the Entity exist, anyways, You weren’t sure what you did to deserve being stranded here. Even if you did have a weird romantic interest in him, so what? Why would the Entity care? Why would any Gods care? And even then, you seemed to have an interest in his hobby. Blood and killing didn’t faze you anymore.

“You think so?” He asked you.

“Depends on the person, I guess. I’d only do it to bad people.” You said.

“But, you’d do what I do?” He asked you.

“Yeah...?” You responded. Danny seemed a bit giddy.

“How would you do it?” Ghostface asked, he seemed way too excited to hear about your non-existent methods of killing.

“I don’t know...” Y/N replied, feeling somewhat flustered by how close he was to you. It was a different type of feeling when he wasn’t trying to stab you.

“If you want, I could show you some pictures and give you tips.” He said.

“And kill who? We’re stuck in this hellhole.” You reminded him.

“What about the other survivors? They can’t all be innocent.” Ghostface said to you. He had some appreciation for you since you listened. It was crazy how much this strange man can switch up.

“No, never. I’m not that crazy.” You said as the loud horn of the exit gates blared. You looked around, really surprised. He seemed just as surprised.

“That long?” He questioned.

“Guess I’m just that good of a distraction.” You said to him as he silently sighed in frustration but didn’t seem to care. A part of him enjoyed your talk.

“Guess you’re gonna be my one kill.” He said, shifting towards you and pushing you against the wall. You were taken aback by his swift movement.

You squirmed against his body, somewhat sliding downwards so kicking was pretty much useless unless you wanted to completely fall. The two of you grunted quietly as he turned you around, shoving your face against the hard wall. It was uncomfortable but he wasn’t being as rough as he usually was. At this point, you were scared of his knife so you tried pulling his hands away from you in the awkward position. Ghostface tightly pinned one of your arms on your back, you winced as he tugged on your hair.

He leaned inwards, poking his head towards your neck and hair. Ghostface took a moment to memorize your scent and what your hair texture might have felt like. For some strange reason, he seemed to want to learn everything about you. It might have been a bad idea for you to have opened him up about his art.

“Get off of me.” You demanded in a stern voice.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.” He replied sarcastically.

You froze up when he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingertips trailing on your back. It wasn’t the motion itself but rather the feeling of his ungloved hand. You felt yourself go into a rather catatonic state, not in fear but you were quick to wonder why he would take his glove off. A thousand thoughts and scenarios played in your mind. His touch was soft but still managed to leave you with chills.

Ghostface, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. He made notes of how soft your skin felt, his hand curiously wandered upwards. It wasn’t long before his hand wandered to your more sensitive areas. A gasp escaped your mouth as kept you pinned with his knees, his hands groping you a bit more roughly. Your face heated up when he squeezed you, you didn’t seem to struggle either.

“Fuck...” You whispered.

“If only we had the time.” He mumbled, sticking three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. Your eyes rested as you stared upwards, allowing him to continue touching you.

“I bet you’re getting all excited over this... if only I could capture the look on your face right now. How does it feel? Having somebody like me have their way?” He asked you. You felt aroused yet ashamed to oblige him.

“It feels good...” You managed to say, his fingers still in your mouth.

You felt the bulge in his crotch grow hard but this wasn’t the time or place. As much as he wanted to fuck you then and there, he needed to have some control over himself. He pulled his hands away and slid his glove back on. You let out a sigh of relief but also a whine. You knew just as much as he did that it just wasn’t the right time. You wiped the saliva from your lips and slowly stood up.

He pulled you backwards by your waist. You felt him rub his knife near your crotch, gliding it teasingly. His other hand wrapped around your neck. You heard him chuckle rather darkly. At this point, you seemed more hot and bothered than he was. Ghostface squeezed your neck a little harder, wanting to get one last sound of of you before he let you go. He didn’t care whether or not the Entity would be displeased or not.

“Guess you’ll have to be a whore some other time.” He said, cutting you on the arm slightly. You pulled your arm away quickly.

“Whatever.” You replied, flustered by his comment. Did that just happen?

“Better go before the Entity kills you itself.” He said to you.

“Right, right... see you around, Danny.” You said before quickly walking away and then running towards the exit gates.

His head tilted curiously. Ghostface wasn’t sure if he had feelings or not. He admired you for listening to him and asking some questions though. But, now that he knew you’d do things with him willingly, he had some ideas. A wide smile grew behind his mask as he began to fantasize about the photos he would eventually take.

You would probably come to regret your actions, seeing as his obsession with you would grow. Danny needed to know everything about you and even felt a bit possessive now. It didn’t matter, there was many possibilities within the Fog. Pray that you’ll be ready for your next meeting.

NOTE: Currently writing a full fledged Danny fic with a different plot but have the sequel to the Distraction. Ty for reading!

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #dbd fanfic #dbd x reader

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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g-on-ef · 3 years

Note

Blitz decides to take up Strikers offer because frankly, he’s confused. For the first time, someone has gave him respect, and treated him like an equal. Is this what life could be like for him? He can feel the chemistry between himself and Striker, it’s different than the transactional fucks with Stolas.

He leaves a note for M and M and Loona, explaining everything, that he’ll be gone for a while, because he has things he has to work out. Honestly, Blitz thinks they won’t even miss him.

Blitz leaves with Striker that night, with Strikers tail curled round Blitz’s hip.

A/N: saw an opportunity to turn this into a mini fic and I did ^^ characters might be slight oc

Blazing red eyes met emerald green ones.

It was so tempting to say yes to give in to Strikers words and join him and his crusade.

His words screaming in his head, drowning out every other thought and reason as to why he shouldn't agree to Strikers plan.

But why not? After all Striker was right Stolas saw him as a plaything and treated him like he was lower than the Prince.

Blitz would never admit it but Stolas's words cut him deep.

Reminding him how he's only an imp, always sexualizing him, talking down on him, making him feel like all he's good for is a good fuck.

Not to mention how that while he agree to be his bodyguard he realized what a fool he was, Stolas could have easily defended himself and his daughter and yet he invited him and his employees and all that it got them was Blitz being reminded of the awful time he spend there, Moxxie and Millie getting hurt and that cheap ass robo clown reminding him yet again how everyone feels about him.

But if agree to join him ... What would happen to Moxxie and Millie ??? His precious Loony ??? He doubts that Striker would let them join them, what will he do without them?

"Well Blitz?"

Blitz felt like he was drowning in his thoughts and Strikers voice was able to pull him out from the very depts of his mind.

"What's your answer?" His tail wrapped itself around Blitz's waist and pulled him closer to Strikers body.

Blitz placed his hands on Striker's chest, their eyes never leaving each other.

However Striker placed his hands down and backed away a little leaving enough room for Blitz to breath and not feel like he was being corner into giving the answer Striker wants to hear.

His tail however remain wrapped around his waist.

Blitz looked away as his hand began to pet Striker's tail the cowboy began to purr making Blitz smile a little, his smile however fell as he thought about the situation they are in.

"I...I don't know," there he said it, he wasn't sure if he should agree to this or not. While the idea was tempting he wasn't sure if he could do it, if he was the one to help Striker to fight along side with him. Sure they tied in the games but does that even mean anything? Is he qualify to stand beside Striker.

After all Blitz maybe a good assassin but he wasn't that good.

Than again his insecurities sure were screaming loudly today reminding him that he'll never be good enough.

He felt a gloved hand under his chin, lifting his head, making him look Striker in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" His voice was soft, not annoyed or angry nor demanding but soft as if he was going at Blitzs pace.

Blitz gulped. This was another thing about Striker that Blitz admire.

The patience he had with him.

Blitz wasn't a fool he knew he could be a bit to much but the short time he and Striker spent together Striker showed him he genuinely liked Blitz and his company.

Last night definitely proved how much Striker loved Blitzs company.

Shaking his thoughts from straying he focus on the question he asked.

"I can't abandon M&M or Loony they're my family,"

H expected him to say something rude about them, find some way to manipulate him into turning his back against his employees.

Striker looked at Blitz and could see how vulnerable he was being, how sacred he was of something awful happening to him after saying no. Not only that but he could see his insecurities clear as day.

They were slowly rising up from whatever cage Blitz had them locked in, could see how they were giving him doubts reminding him of all the lies that everyone has ever told him until they became his version of the truth.

He can't help but wonder exactly what Goiesha and others before that pompous asshole did to him to make him scared to say no. Or feel like he wasn't good enough. Striker vow to hunt them all and kill them.

Striker pulled Blitz closer to him wrapping his hands around Blitz he hugged the smaller imp.

He could feel Blitz body freezing and the contact and not knowing what to do.

Striker ignored that and instead kissed the top of his head.

"I hate being being a weak ass bitch but for you I'll be one Blitz, if you want a better life for them then getting rid of Goiesha and the rest of the overlords is our best bet, I may fuck around wit Moxxie but even I can see how much you care for him and Mildred. Not to mention how much you love your daughter. I won't force you to say yes but think about it okay?"

He tighten his arms around him.

"You have so much untapped potential, don't let fucktards like Goeshia make you think otherwise.

He pulled back from Blitz his tail gave him one last squeeze before uncoiling itself from his body he gave Blitz one last smile before giving him a piece of paper.

"my number if and when you're ready to join me,"

Striker left him alone before he was out of the room. Leaving Blitz alone with his thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Blitz packed his things away Striker was gone, neither Millie nor her parents knew where he went they were however mad he left them without a warning.

Blitz packed his things away, last night he barely got any sleep hell he was ready to just off himself so that he could sleep.

Last night all he could think about was Striker and how the other imp made him feel.

It wasn't just mutual respect it was the fact that he was attracted to the other imp their fuck before the games was the best fuck Blitz had.

Not only that but he trusted Striker enough to bottom and he rarely did that.

He remembers how Striker made him feel, challenged, appreciated, cared for, Striker was bringing so many feelings out of Blitz he never knew he had.

Not to mentioned that Striker made him question everything he knew.

Striker referring him as a plaything to Stolas cut deep, not because it was Strikers intentions but because how true they were.

Not to mention it didn't matter how far Blitz got he was still a lowly imp who only existed to obey orders from those higher than him.

Him giving into Stolas's demands proved that.

Sure he could use that he gets to keep the book and only has to visit him during the full moon but that didn't change the fact that he was basically Stolas's bitch.

Loo Loo Land and The Harvest Moon Festival were perfect examples of him doing whatever Stolas said just because he got paid or he was wear down until he gave in.

Striker ... Striker did the one thing no one has ever done for him ... he gave him a choice ... he asked him to join him; not once did he try to force Blitz to say yes or kept pushing till h gave in.

Even now he was giving him the choice to say yes or no.

He could've done so many things to force him to say yes instead he gave him space didn't push for more than what Blitz was willing to share nor did he manipulate the situation into his favor he just respect Blitz and left him be.

Blitz wonder if he should give into temptation, say yes and see how far he could go and the extent of his power.

Looking at Millie, Moxxie, and Loona ... he wonder how they would feel if he left.

He secretly wonders if they would even care that he's gone.

Loona didn't really care for him and Moxxie was only there because of Millie and we'll Millie loves killing so he wonders if she even cares about him or just loves that she gets to kill humans.

Fitzorallys words cut deep because it was a question he always tried to avoid asking himself because he knew deep down no one did.

He wasn't stupid, he knows he can be a bit much, overbearing and annoying so will they even miss him?

He takes a deep breath and shoves that question deep within his subconscious, just another query that he will avoid as much as he can.

"Sir are you okay?"

Blitz lifted his head and looked at his fam- employees

He could see them eyeing him carefully wondering what was wrong with their boss.

"Yeah Moxxie everything is fine,"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three weeks later

Striker open the door before he could even knock.

The cowboy IMP wasnt wearing his hat which made him look sexier than with it on.

"You came,"

"Yeah ... I did ... I'm in,"

Striker nodded his head he grabbed Blitz's bag and jerk his head a movement that told him to follow him to wear Bombproof was.

Blitz followed him. After much deliberation Blitz decided to follow Striker. He couldn't give a good reason as to why he wanted to join him.

Perhaps it could be do to his words, or maybe because he genuinely like Striker and wanted to see how far their relationship could go there many reasons as to why he decided to join Striker but he did know one thing for sure

He knew that if he wanted to make it to the top he'll need to stop serving bitter sinners and partner up with Striker and kill the unkillable. Make them pay for all the shit they put him and IMPs and hellhounds through.

Striker was right if he wanted his employees to have a good life he'll need to change the system

He already left a note to M&M as well as Loona he told them that he would be gone for a few weeks as he had somethings to figure out.

He of course before meeting or contacting Striker, Blitz met up wit Stolas told him that he can have him for a whole day to do whatever Stolas wanted the only thing he asked was for him to give Millie, Moxxie, and Loona 2.5 million dollars each that way they'll at least have money and not worry about anything for the time being.

Worst day of his fucking life but it was worth it. Stolas of course wanted to know why Blitz demanded for such a thing.

Blitz just gave him the finger threw his book in his face and left.

Striker put his bags over Bombproof before his hands grabbed Blitz's waist and hoisted him up placed him on Bombfires back.

Striker got on his hellhorse with ease.

He felt Striker's lips on his forehead before Striker's tail wrapped itself around his waist pulling Blitz closer to him.

"You won't regret this,"

Blitz smiled at Striker before cupping his face leaning forward he kissed Striker the two shared a soft passionate kiss

The two pulled back giving each other soft smiles. Blitz curled up on Striker's chest letting out soft purrs as Striker ordered Bombfire to move.

Blitz for the first time in weeks slept peacefully while Striker brought the smaller imp closer to his body his tail tightening itself around his waist not once did it let go of his beloved.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Imma be honest with y'all ... It was not supposed to be this long ... Oh well tell me what you guys think ^^

#blitzo helluva boss #helluva striker #blitzo x striker #helluva blitzo #helluva boss #answers asked #anon #anonymous #ficlet

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

( Notice: OKAY - The pic there says ‘The Hobbit/LOTR’ but for times sake, and my own sanity, there is none listed thus-far (same goes for the ‘other’ category’). Merci for understanding! )

So I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, and I already have a blog for it ( @nemosrepost ) but that doesn’t get too much attention. Thus, here we are!

(This was a nightmare to get done - it took weeks to get all the links and pics done up in my spare time - I hope you appreciate that.)

They’re all sorts here, from Medieval Marvel AU’S, to Modern Attack on Titan one shots. They’re all organised via fandom, and I’ve tried my best to link and tag everything properly, but that is a difficult feat, so beware - for some it may not have worked too well.

Like my *actual* masterlist, this will be updated regularly with new fic recs, and even new characters and fandoms as I read them. All fic’s currently listed (as of November 26, 2020) are found on my reblog account.

I’ve also tried to add in a ‘recommendation summary’ thing of each - so basically just my thoughts on the fic(s). But anyway, have fun browsing, and overall - enjoy!

(AND also - LMAOOOO - Have fun scrolling lololololol!) - Nemo

( Pre - Warning: I am not tagging anything as NSWF, 18+, or triggering content. However some fics listed do contain such material. Please refer to the warnings or Authors Notes on each Fic before reading. Stay safe guys! I love you! )

Bluebellhairpin’s Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

Knight in Rusty Armour - Medieval / A/B/O AU! Series - by @revengingbarnes Honestly I binged the first eight chapters (+ prologue) in close to one sitting. That was mostly because that was all that was published at the time. It is completed now. I love both these AU’s, and I love Bucky - win, win!

Flowers Bloom - Soulmate AU! Series - by revengingbarnes Another great series, and honestly I’m a slut for soulmate au’s, so this author might be coming after my heart - keep up that good work, if you know what I mean.

The Great Build Up - Modern / Firefighter Au! One Shot - by @thottybarnes This ones goes from cute, to hot and steamy, to angsty, and back to cute again. A one shot rollercoaster, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it.

Maybe This Time - Mob Au! One Shot - by @propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, so if there’s one thing I like more than an mobster au, it’s adding children into the mix. Something about big bad guys going all soft for this tiny human - and then making them - and that’s called perfection.

Whatever It Takes - Biker AU! One Shot - by @sgtjbuccky He like’s to be loud, so what. He rides a bike, so what. I what to ride him and his bike, so what.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @softlybarnes I’ve never liked Bucky’s metal arm more in my entire life. Using it for a baby going through teething? A+ idea.

Hero, Waiting - Medieval AU! One Shot - by captain-ariel-barnes Sadly, this fic is unavailable now, and that - obviously - makes me sad. But I’m adding it her anyway because of how much I adored it. The love triangle between Bucky, Reader, and Steve was amazing, and the feelings? Phenomenal.

Steve Rogers

If Walls Could Talk - One Shot - by propertyofpoeandbucky I’ll recreate my original comment on this fic - ‘Ouch’. And that’s all I have to say about that.

The End of the War - College AU! One Shot - by @redgillan There’s nothing quite like a enemies to lovers trope that’s well-written. But then throw in fight club, a jerk date, ice-cream and pizza - just read it. You’ll understand then.

The Edge of the Water - Mermaid AU! Series - @floatingpetals I have to admit now, I haven’t read all of this yet. But I also have to say, what I have read was fantastic. Mermaids - and Mermen - they just hit different, you know?

Pseudo Princess - Medieval AU! Series - by @shreddedparchment To date, it’s one of the best fics - nay - stories I’ve ever read. I’d dare to say it’s easily the length of a novel, so if you’re up for the long haul, I’d definitely recommend it. It’s worth the wait - trust me. Op obviously put a hella lot of work into it, and it shows.

Loki Laufeyson

Loki’s Happy Ending - Series (?) - by @gingerwritess Listen, I have been and forever will be a Loki girl. Nothing will change that. And every scrap of content Theo produces for Loki I will cradle in my palms and keep warm until they’re ready to go out into the world or whatever - point is, read this.

Just One Quick Glance - One Shot - by @imagines-trashcan After watching ‘Endgame’, and squealing at every moment Loki appeared on screen, only to not have him show up in the final battle - this was one of my comfort fics.

thunderstorms. - One Shot - by @tarynkauai Naturally, Loki’s child would inherit his unease of thunderstorms. And naturally, seeing Loki as a dad makes me happy.

Stitches - One Shot - by @lokibug Loki being nice. I like that. We stan.

Quentin Beck

The Curveball - One Shot - by @healingchurch Listen, this is on here for a reason. I didn’t really like Mysterio ‘cause of what he did to Peter, but hey, some people are good actors, and some write characters acting very well.

Stephen Strange

(Un-Named) - Imagine / One Shot - by @archieimagines A cocky bastard and a shy Reader, as far as I’m concerned that a one-way ticket straight to my heart. *wink wonk*.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @whirlybirbs Honestly, there are multiple fics of hers on this list, and that’s because she’s a damn fine writer, and her stories are just that addictive. This one is no different. I was preparing to read more and then it ended. But all good things, right?

Crash and Burn - One Shot - by @lilyswritings The angst, and the angst. I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Unfortunately there is only the one part, but much to my personal joy that means I can interpret the after-ending however I want!

Frank Castle

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @alexsunmners This is just cute okay? I have no other words except this was plain and simply very, very, very nice to read, and that it makes me feel very soft right here on the inside.

Peter Parker

Super Smooth Genius - One Shot (?) - by whirlybirbs Back at it again with the cute, awkward, friendly, neighbourhood, Peter Parker.

Just Don’t - Soulmate AU! One Shot - by @papel-creativo What’d I tell you about soulmate au’s? I can’t resist them. And of course Pete being a caring bf with his hero s/o. So nice.

Ronan the Accuser

Make You Proud - One Shot - by @kayleighhalliday2203 This is justifiable because I was going through a Lee Pace faze and I found it and loved it immediately.

Ultron

(Un-Named) - One Shot / Series - by @snarky-badger This I can also justify having read, because (and if you know me then you know) the robot thing ... Doesn’t bother me as much as it should. And I binged all of it on ao3, so.

Poe Dameron

(Un-Named) - Masterlist - by propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, I know there’s a lot on this list, and it could take you a while to get through it all, but trust me - it’s worth it. Lani likes Poe, and it shows. He’s written so well.

Dashing - One Shot / Series ? - by whirlybirbs Birbs does it again. She’s got Punchy!Reader, and if there were a legal way to get all of this Poe thing down into a written book, I’d do it.

You Can See Me? - Modern / Ghost AU! One Shot - by @tintinwrites I just this this one’s really cool. And what Poe does for the reader at the end? So sweet! He would totally do that!

Across the Hall - Modern / Nurse AU! Series - by @starryeyedstories It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s got tension, and a little drama - plus a smidge of angst and Corgi!BB-8. If perfection were ever made into a Modern/Nurse au Poe fic - this would be it.

Deepest, Lightest Secrets - One Shot - by @writefightandflightclub It’s got the humour and overall feel you’d expect to come from something Star Wars related - honestly I had so much fun reading it, and I’ll happily do it again.

Levi Ackerman

Names for Him & You - One Shot - by @commanderserwin Again, op is one of my main sources for fic’s in this area - so there could be quite a few of them listed here. But this one? Cute as heck.

Levi’s Secret - Modern AU! One Shot - by @theamberwriter This one was damn funny in my opinion. Nothing can ever be hidden from Hange for long.

You Look So Beautiful In White - Modern AU! One Shot - by @alrightberries This fic, it carved out my heart, diced it, shoved it in a blender, then made it into an atomic bomb. I - I was not okay. That amount of angst shouldn’t be allowed. Read it.

Abeille - Modern / Mafia AU! Series - by @ackermans-freedom-inc Honestly, this isn’t finished yet but, honestly, I’m not ready for it to finish. The heartache. The betrayal. The child. I can’t even.

Lights - Modern AU! One Shot - by commanderserwin This was the first fic I ever read of op’s, and I couldn’t believe what I read so I went back and read it again. I can’t tell you how much I love it, or how I feel about it, so just go read for yourself and you’ll know.

To Build a Home - Modern AU! Series - by @vennilavee If you’re a fan of Levi, you must go read this. It’s so detailed, and just so perfect - whenever a new part comes out I have a quick reboot before going to read it.

Erwin Smith

One of Us - Modern AU! Miniseries - by commanderserwin I’m not going to lie, this one is here because I requested it, but also because I really liked it, and cried while reading it. So there.

Reiner Braun

Service to the Crown - Medieval AU! Miniseries - by @present-mel It should probably be illegal to write Reiner or Medieval au’s this well, and yet here op is writing both. Like, McScuse me, where do you acquire such talent and can I have some?

Toshinori Yagi

Flirting with All Might - One Shot - by @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Toshi. The great. The hero. The awkward. He’s a blond boy doing what blond boys do even if he’s a little older he’s still part of the crew.

Stitches - Villain AU / Mini Series - by @itsallmightbitch Okay, so I said above that I wouldn’t put warnings on these - but this time I have to. Nothing I’ve read in my whole life emmits such an amount of pure horniness - and I love it.

Godless - Fantasy AU / One Shot - by @pleasantanathema Another ‘All Smite’ fic, yes, I know. But god. They’re so good. This one is another real horny one, so if you can’t tell there is a slight theme running here. And - sksksksks - this is actually from the same ‘general area’ as the Reiner fic listed above (Service to the Crown). There was a event. I read everything.

Keigo Takami

Preening - One Shot - by @shoutaaizawas Literally the softest and cutest damned thing I’ve read for Keigo. No, I’m not just ‘saying’ that, it’s genuine. The feelings I get - or lack thereof due to them turning to mush - it too much for words. Honest.

Seasonal Special - One Shot - by @keiqos I’ll say this now and I’ll say it first - any Hawks fics written by op are *chefs kiss*. They’re amazing. Secondly, rut!Hawks is my weakness - this fic is one of such weaknesses.

Shouto Aizawa

(Un-Named) - Series - by @theamberwriter This is *technically* the second part in the series, but it’s the only part I’ve read and goddamnit, I’m in love. Hubby Aizawa. The disappearing Baby-Zawa.

I Miss You Texts - SMAU - Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Nishinoya Yuu - by @briswriting I miss them too. They ain’t dead. I just feel like I haven’t seen them in so long.

Little Things - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @haikyuudreaming Every single one makes me feel so nostalgic, and I feel so much longing. I love. I loose. I pine. I want. And yet I cannot have. I only dream.

Cheerleader - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @imagine-101 I want to be their cheerleader. Now I am able to be. Op, many thanks for the feeding.

Tsukishima Kei

Cherry Wine - Single Parent AU! Series - by @bakugou-jpg I’m gonna head out and say that Tsukki was my first favourite Haikyuu character - then I ‘character developed’ but that only went so far as to give me more favorites. But deadass - read this and you won't regret it.

Ukai Keishin

(Un-Named) - Ballroom/Latin Dancer AU! Headcanons - by @imagine-that-haikyuu I know nothing about dancing. Or ballroom dancing. But I do know I’d love to dance with Ukai. So how’s that for ‘middle ground’?

#fic rec #masterlist #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #quentin beck x reader #stephen strange x reader #frank castle x reader #peter parker x reader #ronan x reader #ultron x reader #poe dameron x reader #levi ackerman x reader #erwin smith x reader #reiner braun x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #ukai keishin x reader

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sunnylighter · 2 years

Text

I posted 246 times in 2021

108 posts created (44%)

138 posts reblogged (56%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.3 posts.

I added 532 tags in 2021

#ninjago - 87 posts

#lego ninjago movie - 77 posts

#lego ninjago - 68 posts

#gigau - 63 posts

#grass is always greener au - 53 posts

#fromfanfiction - 49 posts

#grass is always greener - 45 posts

#inktoberchallenge - 30 posts

#inktober2021 - 30 posts

#inktober - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 45 characters

#i'm just reblogging to use as reference later

My Top Posts in 2021

ok, i think i speak for many that this scene deserves to be drawn:

nya telling jay that pythor is her perfect match, along with the reactions to "the reveal".

because god, I hope I'm not the only one who fell out laughing

See the full post

47 notes • Posted 2021-10-18 16:49:51 GMT

So Renee722 on AO3 said: “also for a drawing request if you haven’t done it, could you draw when Kai falls through the travelers tea portal in the first chapter of this fic.”

What she means is the inciting incident in my latest story, More Fun than a Barrel of Monkies. Pythor basically abducts Kai and renders him unable to talk to use him as a decoy so he can kidnap MK from Monkie Kid. https://archiveofourown.org/works/34204399

I had fun drawing this due to the shift in perspective on both sides of the portal. I always pictured Buddy Kai falling through it down in Movie Ninjago, but coming out sideways in the Monkie Kid world.

56 notes • Posted 2021-10-09 15:28:08 GMT

@digiacrb96 mentioned she wanted to see a picture of all the Lil’Terrors. Sounded fun, so I delivered. Since Lil’Loyd got to stay a kid in the Grass is Always Greener AU he was able to make friends his own age, and over time amassed a lot of them.

From left to right we have

Mindroid, he doesn’t know he’s a Lil’Terror yet, and if you ask him if he’s friends with all of them, he’ll fiercely deny it. And yet he keeps seeking them out, but it’s not like he likes them or anything.

Gene and Brad, they usually come as a pair. Gene’s the ‘brains’ of the outfit and Brad will do just about anything for a bet. Their encouraging the others into trouble is half the reason they’re called ‘terrors’.

Nelson, a huge fan of the Ninja and thinks them and Lil’Loyd are the coolest. Very accident prone and usually has something broken. He is always eager to try anything, and is dangerprone.

Lil’Loyd, the ring leader of the group and the other half of why they’re all called ‘terrors’. He may be a hero now, but he still loves his mischief.

Tiny Echo, small, cheerful, and chatty, he actually beats Nick Jay when it comes to talking. He’s super curious and will ask a million questions a minute, and wants to befriend everyone he meets.

Rusty Echo, tall, shy, sweet, but can carry a grudge, he may not look as ‘little’ as the others, but his mental age is closer to theirs than the way he was built. Lil’Loyd decided the second he met him they would become friends, and he fit right in.

SJ, aka Prince Skales the Second, or my imagining of the movie version of Skales Junior. He has a lot of pressure on him as a prince, and appreciates his wild friends spicing up his life, even if he more often than not has to be the voice of reason.

Poisinthia, a movie Serpentine OC that took on a life of her own. I never intended for her to be a Lil’Terror. She started out as just a kid for Luh-Loyd to save, but then she kept showing up and SJ and Lil’Loyd made friends with her. She’s outspoken, bold, and loves a good romance (much to the dismay of the boys).

68 notes • Posted 2021-11-18 18:16:27 GMT

Hi. Well I noticed there is already drawing of the lloyds with their parents, but there is also the time they were exchanged? So back with a double request, how about a lil'loyd drawing with Lord garm(movie) and one of luh-loyd with Lord garmadon (show) close to being sensei))?

Sure thing. Kinda fun to see how different they treat each other back in The Grass is Always Greener, especially when Show Garmadon was still evil.

Movie Lord Garmadon and Lil'Loyd clicked pretty much immediately once they started hanging out together. Two chaos gremlins with a love for pranks and mischief, they got along like a house on fire, much to everyone else's dismay. If left alone for too long, those two will start causing trouble.

Luh-Loyd, however, had much more tense exchanges with Still-evil Show Garmadon, mostly because he threatened to keep Lil'Loyd in his world if he didn't shape up. SLord Garmadon didn't like that and was dismissive of his 'bleeding heart'. The scene above is after they stopped the Serpentine from collapsing the city, and SLord G can't understand why Luh-Loyd tried to reason with them rather than fight, and Luh-Loyd's more worried about Cole, who passed out after holding up the entire city. The two just couldn't connect until SLord G was cured.

70 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 16:39:47 GMT

So Renee722 on AO3 said, “If you could, could you draw the Ninja force reunion.“

Renee means the reunion between the Ninja Force in Chapter 4 of More Fun than a Barrel of Monkies, when they found Kai and Cyan Nya promptly tackled him. Everyone’s really relieved to see him alright. https://archiveofourown.org/works/34204399/chapters/86284159

Renee asked for a few more, and I’ll get to them when I have time.

199 notes • Posted 2021-10-28 18:26:17 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

19 notes · View notes

whereisten · 4 years

Text

Perfect.

A Winwin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: things get busy for one of the world’s leading scientist’s, Yuta, so he creates his own efficient and trustworthy personal assistant robot a.k.a Sicheng. But what happens when his perfect creation develops a flaw or two?

Pairing: Scientist!Yuta x Robot!Winwin

Genre: horror, smut, angst, a tinyyy little bit of fluff

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: dark themes, side piece Doyoung, Yuta has major God-complex syndrome, cursing, weapon usage, blood mention, smut: mlm (top!Yuta, bottom!doyoung, bottom!winwin, anal penetration, masturbation, oral sex, c*eampie.

(A/N): hey guys!! This is the first fic we are posting for our Halloween Series! Every day we will post a new fic for each member of NCT 2020 so be sure to stop by to see what dark and spookyyyyy stories we create. This is also my first time writing BL so I hope it’s good enough for a first try😂 I will do better next time. Thank you❤️🥺.

—————

“He’s perfect” Yuta looks upon his creation in the open glass box.

“Height. 5’11. Date of Birth. October 28th, 1997. Eye color. Dark Brown. Hair color. Dark Brown. Origin of parts. Wenzhou, China.”

“It looks so...real. It’s kinda creepy..” Doyoung, Yuta’s coworker, analyzed the texture of the robot’s face.

“Well, he wasn’t made to be pleasant, only efficient.”

“Yes, but Yuta..don’t you think this is a bit much? Mimicking the face of an actual person..someone that died over 100 years ago? Will you name it Dorian too?”

Yuta created his robot as a personal assistant to him. He found that humans were full of error and it made them incompetent and negligent beings. And Yuta, being the best scientist in Japan, just couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. So he created him. The perfect robot, a “copy machine” that could keep up with him and do the work he does just as efficiently. He would be just as smart as him.

Yuta steps closer and runs a finger down the robots face, causing a neon green honeycomb pattern to decorate its skin. It wasn’t on, but it was still reacting to the touch against its surface. Yuta watches the green fade from its perfect cheekbones.

He made him to look like the famous Dorian Gray because he wanted him to be just as beautiful as he was smart. But if he is just a machine made to perform tasks with 100% accuracy, why would looks matter?

This is what Doyoung thought as he observed it.

“There is a word that means talented, beautiful, master piece and a gift from God..Sicheng, that will be his name.”

Doyoung scoffs. “It’s a man? With...male reproductive organs?”

“Yes..” Yuta writes something down on his clipboard.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “You’ve really lost it, haven’t you?”

“I want him to look as real as possible for when we present our findings and such. Do you think anyone will listen to a robot that looks like those beastly things from the Terminator movies? What’s the issue?” Yuta brushes past Doyoung, walking around a table in the lab and placing his clipboard onto it.

“You of all people know the issue..you’ve made him into a beautiful person and for what? Just so you can have something nice to look at while you avoid actual human company? Is it merely a solution to your loneliness, Yuta?”

Yuta smirks. “Sounds like you’re a bit jealous, Doyoung..don’t worry, I don’t plan on engaging in any activities with him. I’m not that barbaric. But even if I did, that would have nothing to do with you. Don’t forget your place in my life, you’re disposable...he isn’t.”

Doyoung’s jaw drops. “I pray this..thing..will tolerate your ungrateful and arrogant ass. For it shall be the only thing to spend time with you, you unsociable maniac.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta turns Sicheng on for the first time.

His eyes illuminate as he takes his first breath. He blinks but offers Yuta nothing but a blank stare.

Yuta sits him down on the couch and turns the TV on before turning on an instructional video on human interaction.

“Hello. Your name is Sicheng. My name is Yuta, I am your creator and master. For today’s first lesson, you will learn how to speak and express emotions. I’ve uploaded information from my own limbic system into your hard drive so you can access and apply these feelings when necessary. Do not do so without my permission. Repeat after me “yes, master.”

“Yes, master.” Sicheng responds.

“Good, I will be the only one to make demands of you, you will only respond to me and grant my wishes without fail. Alright, I see that you are blinking and breathing..” he writes a checkmark on the word document on his iPad. “Involuntary actions are operating correctly.”

He steps back. “Now, you may watch the video, I will come back when it has finished and test you.”

“Yes, master.”

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng has watched several videos every day for the past week. He starts to act more and more—humanlike, and to Yuta’s satisfaction, has performed his duties with 100% accuracy. In addition to performing basic tasks in the lab, like picking up test tubes or writing down Yuta’s notes and storing them into his hard drive, Sicheng has learned how to bathe, drive, cook, clean, and speak 30 languages.

He continues to learn every day, new formulaic equations as well as feelings and ways to think on his own. He remembers everything, as he was designed to.

One day when Yuta was typing new findings on his computer in the office section of his house, Sicheng sat on the lounge chair and listened to music as Yuta had directed him to.

He was learning about all genres of music and even learned how to play the guitar in less than 45 minutes.

Today, Yuta had him listen to Hopsin, an American rapper that he liked.

When the song “What’s My Purpose?” came on shuffle, Sicheng took his head phones off.

“Excuse me, master. May I ask a question?”

He says softly.

Yuta, still typing. “Yes.”

“What is my purpose? Why did you create me, master?”

Yuta sighs. “You don’t have to verbally refer to me as master. And your purpose is to serve me, do as I ask with 100% accuracy so that you may please me and make me...happy.”

He turns to him and gives him a cheesy smile.

Sicheng nods. “I understand, m-“ he blinks rapidly as his system reconfigures itself to change previously saved information.

Yuta smiles widely as he sees Sicheng display a smidge of confusion for a moment. He looks adorable, he thinks to himself. He’s beautiful, his lips perfectly round and puckered with a light cherry shade to them always, his eyes are a beautiful, exotic shape unlike any eyes he’s seen before. He could get lost in them if he stares for too long. So he looks away, and frowns.

“What is wrong? It seems you are unhappy?”

Sicheng’s brows furrows, his eyes stare intently as they analyze the motion of Yuta’s facial muscles.

“It’s nothing, I am going to sleep, please turn yourself off.” Yuta looks away as he rises from his desk chair and heads to his bedroom.

“Yes.” Sicheng closes his eyes and shuts down.

———

[The Next Day]

Sicheng and Yuta spend the day inside, a storm has prevented them from leaving the house and heading to the lab for work. Yuta, being the workaholic he is, is dissatisfied with the weather and hates being away from the lab. He checks the weather app through Sicheng every two minutes even though the storm rolls through loudly, violently, thunder shaking the walls.

“The thunderstorm will continue into the evening.”

“This is unacceptable!” Yuta plops down onto the couch in the entertainment room. “Sicheng! Sit with me before I lose my mind.”

Sicheng walks over and sits beside him.

Together they watch movies and laugh. Sicheng observes how happy his master is and finds himself smiling as well, a new feeling is absorbed and saved.

Yuta turns to him and sees his bright smile, his dimples coming out and his eyes closing tightly as he chuckles.

“Are you happy, Sicheng?”

“Yes, I am happy as long as you are happy.”

Yuta rubs the top of Sicheng’s hand to watch the illuminated reaction of his fascinating skin.

Sicheng has a strange, new feeling from the touch, but doesn’t know what to categorize it as.

“Good.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta and Sicheng return to the lab.

“We have so much work to do.” Yuta hurriedly places his bag down and they set to work. Things seem to be going fine, Sicheng does his best to input brand new information as Yuta works on a new formula. However, Yuta seems to be moving too fast as he is worried about how much he has fallen behind from his day at home.

“Combine elements 65 and 81, place 10 milliliters of each into the cylinder, measure the solubility and proliferate it by 0.448, then divide the finding by 6 before combining it with element 55, this must be done quickly or we will lose all work we’ve done thus far.”

Yuta grabs the cylinder and places it down before doing his half of the work.

Sicheng, on the other hand, cannot seem to process the demand, his drive releases an error message that he can’t seem to overcome.

But he wants to please master, he must please master.

Sicheng combines elements 64 and 81 and continues on with fulfilling Yuta’s demand, but the result is not what Yuta expects.

“No..no this isn’t right, why is it reacting this way?” Yuta starts to panic as he watches the solution display a completely different state of matter under his microscope.

“Sicheng, verbally explain what you have just done.”

“I combined elements 64 and 81 in-“

“No!! It’s not 64, it’s 65, you fool! How could you make such a mistake?!” Yuta empties the cylinder quickly. “I thought you were perfect, it seems I was wrong.”

Sicheng starts to feel a new emotion.

It’s a terrible feeling, he feels unsteady, confused, for once the answer is not clear. What was this? Why did he feel dread, despair, failure?

Yuta rushes around the room as Sicheng stands in the center, dumbfounded.

When Yuta finally looks up at Sicheng, he sees the his eyes are red, tears run down his cheeks, causing them to illuminate green.

“Sicheng...no. D-don’t cry.”

“Is that what this is, master? Am I crying?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to stop. I need you to be brave enough to handle these tasks.”

He stops and wipes away his tears.

Yuta sighs. “It’s clear I’ve made a mistake in your configuration, I will fix it when we get home later.”

The rest of the day goes by in silence. Yuta sees Sicheng as no use to him so he doesn’t instruct him to do anything. Sicheng watches Yuta eat and sits at the dinner table with him.

He knows he has done something wrong, something that displeased his master.

Is he of worth if he can’t please him? Does he have a purpose anymore?

Yuta chews heavily and tries to think of where he went wrong with his creation, but he can’t be bothered with fixing him for tonight. “Sicheng, shut down.”

He swallows hard then gets up from the table.

“Yes.” Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey, but he disobeys his master secretly, he doesn’t shut down, he stays awake to attempt to fix himself so he can make him happy tomorrow.

Yuta then takes his phone out and calls Doyoung.

Doyoung answers reluctantly after not seeing Yuta for days since he got his new “toy.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Doyoung exhales loudly.

“Come over.” Yuta demands.

“And why would I do that?” Doyoung teases, but he’s already grabbed his car keys.

“I’m not asking, I want you here in 15 minutes.” Yuta hangs up.

He picks his dishes up from the table and drops them into the sink.

He takes his tie off and unbuttons his white dress shirt by three buttons. He then takes his hair tie off and places it onto the dresser. Sicheng watches as Yuta becomes more relaxed. He feels a certain ache in his system, a desire to make him smile again. A desire to please.

A few minutes later, Doyoung knocks at the door. Yuta grabs him inside by the collar and presses him into the back of the door. He slams his lips onto his and kisses him fervently, not a moment lost between them as they drown in each other’s lust.

“Are you done with your toy?” Doyoung says breathily between kisses.

Yuta kisses him sloppily, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip then his chin and neck.

He grabs Doyoung’s waistband, pulling him closer to his pelvis so he can feel his clothed erection.

“Do you need me to please you now?” Doyoung smirks as Yuta bites his neck to leave a mark.

Doyoung grunts as Yuta pulls his shirt over his head, licking his hard nipples soon after. He darts his tongue out and licks around the nub, then places his lips around it before sucking hard.

“God, I love when you get like this.” Doyoung rubs his hand through Yuta’s hair as he continues to suck.

Yuta is too busy to see Sicheng watching them quietly.

Please. That is the key word. Doyoung is pleasing his master so he must watch and copy Doyoung’s action so he may do the same. For what will happen if he no longer pleases him? Will Yuta replace him with Doyoung?

Sicheng listens to Yuta’s groans as Doyoung traces his hand over his crotch, smoothly touching his member through his pants.

“On your knees..you talk too much.” Yuta demands.

Doyoung smirks and licks his lips. He drops to his knees and looks up at Yuta through his lashes. He takes his zipper in between his teeth and drags it down.

Yuta pushes his brief down to let his painful erection free. “We’re wasting time.”

“Tsk tsk, impatient as usual.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Doyoung.”

Doyoung feels himself leak as Yuta growls at him. Nothing satisfies him more than seeing Yuta beg for him, so yes, Sicheng’s creation was somewhat of a disappointment for him. He thought he would replace him, but now he is happy to see that he can’t.

Yuta exhales and throws his head back as Doyoung takes him into his mouth. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. “God, yes.”

Doyoung runs the tip against the inside of his cheek and hums to send vibrations through him.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the underside of it, tracing over every bulging vein.

He thrusts his hips forward into Doyoung and listens to him choke, he watches his cheeks become round and red.

Yuta is already close, but he wants more.

He helps Doyoung up and kisses his lips again. He takes him to the dining table and bends him over it. Yuta then drags Doyoung’s sweatpants down before cupping his hand around his cock. He aligns his own cock with Doyoung’s ass and pushes into him quickly, he buries himself into him while grabbing a fistful of his hair and bending his neck back.

“Fuck!” Doyoung groans and holds himself up as Yuta pushes into him hard.

They both ignore Sicheng sitting at the other end of the table. Sicheng watches and absorbs the images of their bodies engaging in this new act.

Yuta pumps Doyoung’s cock with his other hand, liquid leaks out of the tip. Sicheng notes how he also has a penis and wonders if he has the same capability.

Yuta grunts as he pushes into Doyoung a few more times. Doyoung whimpers as he is stretched out over and over while bent over the table, sweat coming across his forehead as a bundle of nerves is on the brink of being released.

Yuta looks up at Sicheng’s still face, he curses and goes harder on Doyoung. And for a moment, he let his mind wander, he let himself think of..Sicheng. Touching his soft, illuminated skin as he makes love to him, or feeling his round lips on his collarbone and his chest, how magical it would be.

“Fuck.” Yuta releases into Doyoung as Doyoung cries out while climaxing.

Yuta sits into the chair and breathes heavily. He smooths his hair back and watches as Doyoung pulls his sweatpants back up.

“Want me to stay around for-“ Doyoung starts but Yuta interrupts him with an abrupt-

“No.”

Doyoung scoffs and leaves. Yuta cleans the table soon after and goes to bed. As he lays in bed, he sees Sicheng’s beautiful face. He dreams of laying with him, touching him. He knows he shouldn’t think of these things, but he can’t seem to stop.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Sicheng starts to read novels and books about the concept of forgiveness while he is home and away from the lab. Yuta has been quiet and doesn’t look at him much, he doesn’t even take him to the lab on most days anymore.

“I have to fix you before you can come back to the lab, we cannot afford any more mistakes.” Yuta says sternly when Sicheng asks if he is to join him one day. He shuts the door and looks down as he leaves.

Sicheng starts to overthink, or overanalyze rather. He wants Yuta to forgive him and be happy again. What good is he if he only disappoints his creator?

He watches movies as well, movies that discuss love and heartbreak. Love is a feeling of admiration towards someone, based on Sicheng’s findings and research. He admires Yuta so he loves him. He wants Yuta to love him too so he can be happy like the others in the novels and movies are. That is the conclusion he’s come to.

But in order to show his love he must do as they do in the movies and as Doyoung did with him.

One day at dinner, Sicheng watches Yuta eat the meal he has prepared for him.

When Yuta is almost finished, he breaks the silence.

“Do you love me, master?”

Yuta nearly choked on his food. “I..hmmm..Well...you’re my creation..but I don’t..”

“Yuta, I would like to please you, would you like to make love to me?”

Sicheng asks, weakness coats his tone.

Yuta scoffs. “Of course not! That’s not what you were created for!”

“I apologize.” Sicheng’s head lowers.

“Sicheng, exterminate all information related to “love.” Yuta brings his dish to the kitchen and heads to his room.

“Yes.” Sicheng doesn’t delete anything from his hard drive, but why not? Why was he disobeying his orders, not once, but twice now?

Yuta didn’t know that he made a mistake by inputting his limbic system into Sicheng. He didn’t know that he would develop emotions, feelings, desires of his own, and that this could become a serious issue.

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng started working with Yuta in the lab a few days before. Things are slowly going back to normal as Yuta begins to trust him more. They continue on with their tasks and Sicheng is able to keep up with him.

This new confidence, however, causes both Yuta and Sicheng to move faster.

Yuta walks around the room swiftly, heading behind his assistant. “Sicheng, hand me the solution.”

Sicheng, already prepared, turns to hand it to him, but Yuta miscalculated his reaction time, causing him to bump into Sicheng.

The solution flies out of the graduated cylinder and onto Yuta’s lab coat and pants. Some of it splatters onto his neck.

“Shit!” Yuta runs to the shower room down the hall. They are working after hours so no one else is there but the two of them. Fortunately for them, as other scientists would’ve been greatly concerned.

Sicheng runs after him. “Master! I apologize for my mistake, please do not be displeased with me.”

“Sicheng! Just leave me alone!”

“I will help you.”

“No! Just...wait there.” Yuta finally enters the shower.

Sicheng doesn’t wait, he goes into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He watches as Yuta throws his coat off then takes his pants down.

Yuta curses and is visibly upset, but then he feels light hands come to his front side.

Sicheng unbuttons his shirt for him and takes it off from the back.

Yuta’s mouth falls open, but he doesn’t tell Sicheng to leave. He steps forwards into the shower and washes himself off, not realizing the Sicheng is now taking his own clothes off.

Sicheng stands outside of the shower and thinks of what to do next.

Must please master.

He draws the curtain open.

“Sicheng! What are you doing? The solution didn’t get on you, put your clothes back on!”

Yuta pushes back his wet hair out of his face then places his hand over his cock.

Sicheng doesn’t listen. He steps into the shower and stares into the eyes of his master.

Yuta cowers and feels the cold tile against his back as he looks at his creation with lustful, hungry eyes he had never seen before.

The water droplets begin to leave slowly fading green marks on his skin and he looks beautiful.

“Touch me, like you touched Doyoung, master. I would like to make you happy too.”

Yuta’s mouth falls open, his brows furrow as he is stunned to silence.

Sicheng places his lips onto his mouth and attempts to mimic a kiss. He had watched many videos that showed it in detail and now he was able to do it with Yuta.

Yuta closes his eyes and kisses him back. He turns his head and licks over Sicheng’s plump lips, it tastes like cherries, his favorite fruit, and he wonders if Sicheng purposely put cherry chapstick on for this.

Yuta places his hand on the side of Sicheng’s face as he deepens the kiss, letting go of all concern about the consequences to come from this moment. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make love to his creation.

Steaming water falls down both of them, making their hair cling to their foreheads as they smother each other.

Yuta runs his hands across Sicheng’s muscular arms and watches his skin light up from his touch.

Sicheng then runs his hand down Yuta’s abs, feeling the bricks under his smooth skin. Sicheng blinks rapidly as he feels something new.

“Arousal.you’re feeling arousal.” Yuta practically hears Sicheng’s confusion as he kisses along his neck.

Sicheng’s pulse begins to race as he feels something funny happening to his penis.

“Here.” Yuta takes Sicheng’s hand in his. Sicheng thinks he is going to place it on his own erection, but Yuta doesn’t do that, he places it on Sicheng’s semi-limp member.

Yuta looks into his eyes and speaks deeply. “Touch yourself, move your hand up and down.”

Sicheng’s eyes widen as he starts to stroke his member like he had watched Doyoung do. A tingly feeling begins to fill him up in his nether region when he wraps his hand around it.

“I see you haven’t been listening to me. You’ve been staying awake when I tell you to shut down, and you haven’t deleted “love.” Yuta smirks.

“No, master, I-“ Sicheng stumbles over his words as he focuses on Yuta’s tongue suddenly on his chest.

Yuta licks the pink circle around Sicheng’s nipple, before flattening his tongue onto the hardening bud.

He then bites it and watches as the area lights up in a bright shade of green from irritation.

“How do you feel, Sicheng?”

“I feel good m-master. Are you happy?” Sicheng nearly goes into overdrive as he is turned on more and more from his hand.

Yuta swats Sicheng’s hand away from his member and replaces it with his own.

He pumps Sicheng up and down, coating his hand in Sicheng’s slick. He slides the skin back and forth, feeling Sicheng’s glans with each pass. He then leans down and kisses his neck again, sucking hard and biting his skin. He moves his hand faster as spit mixed with water covers Sicheng’s skin.

Sicheng can’t hold back, he releases an interesting sound from the immense pleasure he feels in the pit of his stomach. He breathes more heavily than usual as his mouth falls open.

He moans once again. “There is a buildup happening, Yuta. However, I would like to make you happy first.”

Sicheng places his hand on Yuta’s and pulls it away while looking into his eyes, water making his lashes look darker than usual.

Yuta feels dizzy just from the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, his color fading from green in all the places he kissed and teased. His erection is painful at this point. Sicheng looks down at it with red cheeks and nods. “You can make love to me...if you don’t like me, just imagine I am Doyoung.”

Yuta furrows his brows. “Are you crazy? Of course I like you, I created you!” He turns Sicheng around, taking his hand and placing it on the wall of the shower.

Yuta wraps his hand back around Sicheng’s leaking cock and continues to move it up and down.

He enters Sicheng, sliding into his already wet anus.

Sicheng lets out another moan, then covers his mouth from embarrassment.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you so badly, because you’re perfect..you’re all mine..and you’re fucking..perfect.”

Yuta thrusts hard into him with his chest on Sicheng’s warm back.

He takes his other hand and turns his face towards him, Sicheng’s lips are swollen and red from their kiss, his eyes are wide, his nose is dainty. Everything about him is just beautiful.

“If you like me, master, do you love me too?”

The words leave his lips in a whimper as Yuta bucks into his body, he feels a slight pain as he struggles to adjust to Yuta, but in time, he knows he will.

Yuta kisses him hard, tightening his grip around his cock and intertwining his fingers with his.

Sicheng feels unbelievably amazing around him. He smiles to himself as he thinks about how he designed both his reproductive and nervous systems without error. His body reacts perfectly when aroused, his length glistening with Sicheng’s slick as it also leaves his anus through a special system he designed.

Yuta looks at the beautiful boy’s back and shoulders, he kisses the nape of his neck and then his ear.

“I love you, fuck yes, I love you.” In that moment, Yuta is happy, but he can’t help but be worried about Sicheng’s inaccuracies in the lab, how he nearly put his life in danger. But he’s fix it, he’d find a way to fix him.

He glided his dick into him faster, skin slapping on skin as he grunts and Sicheng whimpers. Yuta feels his cock twitch as it runs against his silky walls.

Sicheng’s system overloads, he releases onto the tiled shower wall and looks down in amazement as a strange liquid leaves his body in heavy spurts for the first time. It feels wonderful to have such a new and exciting release.

Yuta takes what has fallen onto his fingers and sticks it into Sicheng’s open mouth.

“Suck.”

Sicheng does as he demands and Yuta cums into his body soon after.

Yuta curses as he continues to suck his fingers and bounce on his pulsing length. He orgasms harder than ever before, feeling his body tremble from the stimulation. He becomes lightheaded.

He pulls out and watches Sicheng leak his seed through low eyes as he pants.

As he comes down, reality settles in. What has he done? He’s turned Sicheng into the very thing he didn’t want to turn him into.

Sicheng drives them home after they wash themselves off and get dressed.

When they get home, Yuta lies in bed as Sicheng sits on a chair in the corner of the room silently.

He is disturbed by his actions and swears to never let lust take him over again.

“Sicheng…delete all memories of this day and shut yourself off.”

Sicheng’s system runs into a slight error as he hears his master's demands. Why did he want him to forget about this wonderful day? Wasn't he happy? Was he displeased at the end of it? What did he do wrong?

“Sicheng?”

“Yes, master. I am currently deleting all of today’s data from my storage. Goodnight.” He says as his eyes fade to grey.

But once again, he doesn’t obey him. He holds onto the memories and feelings because he enjoys seeing his master happy.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Yuta distances himself from Sicheng. He doesn’t take him to the lab anymore, he doesn’t even sit at the table to eat. He goes into his room to avoid him.

Some days, he won’t tell Sicheng to ‘wake up’. But Sicheng turns himself on anyway so that he can watch him.

One day when Yuta starts to get dressed, Sicheng walks up behind him and places his favorite blue tie around his neck. Sicheng’s fingers graze Yuta’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine.

“No!” Yuta jumps as he is startled by Sicheng’s touch. He steps forward and turns to him. “Please..do not touch me.”

Sicheng tilts his head and stares in confusion.

Why was he disturbed by his simple touch? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, that had to be it.

But just four days after they made love, Yuta invites Doyoung over and they make love. Sicheng sees that Yuta enjoys another man’s touch. Doyoung grips his waist then scratches his back while Yuta thrusts into him.

Sicheng sits quietly with grey eyes as they fuck in Yuta’s bedroom. He tries to calm his racing pulse and begins to think dangerous things.

Does he love Doyoung? Yes. He will get rid of me won’t he? I have failed to please master, I must please him before he gets rid of me. If he is unhappy, I must show him that I love him by pleasing him.

When they are done and deep in sleep, Sicheng rises from the bedroom chair and heads to the living room. He realizes he must gain more knowledge so he can make Yuta happy again. He reads poems and comes across one by Oscar Wilde titled “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.”

Doyoung and Yuta snore softly while he sits in the living room and reads.

He reads a passage that sticks out to him.

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard.

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!”

Yuta loves Doyoung, that’s why he spends time with him. But Doyoung cannot take his place, therefore, he must get rid of him, he must kill the thing Yuta loves. And then Yuta can decide if he loves him, then he can kill him. This is what Sicheng had come to understand.

Brave. Yuta had told him to be brave once. Perfect.

Now, all he needed was a sword.

Sicheng searches for types of swords.

A sword is a weapon with a long metal blade.

A blade is sharp. A knife is sharp. He must get a knife.

Sicheng goes into the kitchen and takes out a knife from the cabinet.

He walks into the bedroom with it and stands over Doyoung, staring and searching deep into his body to see his veins pumping crimson blood to and from his beating heart. Sicheng’s eyes turn to a glowing red color as he calculates how hard and fast he must act to strike the knife through Doyoung’s chest. He wants to clean it cleanly so as to not make master upset.

Doyoung is woken up by a strange presence. He turns over and is shocked to see Sicheng standing over him while gripping a knife. He smiles sadistically as his red eyes glisten in the moonlight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Doyoung sits up straight in the bed.

“Don't do this!”

Sicheng leans downward and grins. “I only obey master’s orders.”

He doesn’t give Doyoung the chance to escape, he quickly drives the knife into his chest, blood splatters over his perfect face as Doyoung screams loudly into the night.

Yuta jumps up. “What—Sicheng!! oh my God, what did you do?!”

Sicheng pulls the knife back out of his chest. “I killed him for you master, for each man kills the thing he loves. I did it for you.” He tilts his head and looks down at Yuta with wide eyes in hopes of gaining a look of satisfaction from Yuta.

But instead, Yuta stares in horror at Doyoung’s lifeless body. His hands start to shake.

“If I love you, Yuta, does that mean I must kill you as well?” Sicheng asks innocently while blinking rapidly. His system is reconfiguring itself as it develops and stores new information.

“No-no! Shut up! Shut down!!”

“But master, I want to please you by loving you..” Sicheng steps closer, Doyoung’s blood drips down the side of his face and onto Yuta’s bed sheets.

His eyes are still red and Yuta is confused as to how, for he never installed that feature.

“Sicheng! I order you to shut down now!”

“Yes, master. I will do that as soon as I am done being brave enough to handle this task.” He crawls over the bed with the knife in his hand still and a horrific smirk.

“Sicheng!” Yuta raises his arm above his head to block his blow.

He knocks the knife out of his hand and grabs both of Sicheng’s wrists. He overpowers him and flips him over onto the bed.

Sicheng doesn’t fight back, he only stares into Yuta’s eyes and continues to grin.

“Must.please.master.Must.make.master.happy..must.love. Master.” There’s a glitch in Sicheng’s system that causes him to repeat these three things over and over, and it drives Yuta insane.

His perfect creation crumbles right in front of his very eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Yuta wraps his hands around Sicheng’s neck. He can’t control his confusion, sadness, anger. He chokes Sicheng so hard the metal in his neck begins to break and the sound echoes into the gloomy house.

Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey one final time as Yuta kills him for good.

His muttering stops, but his haunting smile remains, engraving itself into Yuta’s memory forever.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Yuta arrives home after a long day at the lab. It had been only two weeks since Doyoung was killed by his robot and he was still dealing with the pain of losing something he loved so dearly. No, not Doyoung, but Sicheng rather. He missed his company, his touch, his soft exotic eyes and deep voice.

He made a mistake and Yuta could’ve fixed him, but unfortunately the police department took him away after he had reported the murder.

When Yuta asked what they would do with him, they told him that Sicheng would be locked up in a metal box in their department until they decided on how to proceed with the murder case.

But it didn’t matter really. Yuta killed Sicheng in the end. His body was now just clunky metal.

Yuta sighs and sits down on his couch. He turns the TV on and switches it to the news channel to distract himself from his own feelings, never noticing the glistening red eyes that watch him quietly from the corner of the dark room.

He’s watching..he’s always watching.

“Breaking News, there’s been a suspected terrorist attack inside the Osaka Prefectural Police Department. Nearly all police officers have been brutally murdered. The assailant is unknown and is still at large. We are under curfew until further notice, everyone must stay inside and lock their doors..”

Yuta sits up straight and thinks to himself. That’s the same department that Sicheng is in. What if—

“Master..please forgive me for being gone for so long.”

A low voice speaks into the large room.

Sicheng steps out from the shadows, the blood of his victims dripping down his naked body and face.

Yuta stands up from the couch, his eyes widening as Sicheng walks slowly towards him.

“Sicheng..what did you do?” Yuta’s eyes brim with tears as he swallows hard.

Sicheng’s neck seems to have healed itself somewhat, the purplish bruises being the only indication that Yuta had choked him. Once again, Yuta doesn’t recall installing a self-healing feature.

“They all tried to stop me, Yuta..” Sicheng smiles widely and runs his bloody hands through his own hair to smooth it back out of his face. “But I couldn’t let them...I have to serve you. I have to please you and make you happy, that is my purpose.”

--------

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

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faebriel · 3 years

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ok ok I'm insane and couldn't pick one so have two (no need to answer both if you don't want to)

“You talk to him.” Not kindly, but he does.

“I’m used to him,” he shoots back. “I’m the only person who is.”

That makes Niki feel something, some uncomfortable tug in her chest. She mentally kicks herself. It’s not jealousy, she reminds herself, because despite the near-cliff jumping and the long nights without food and the nuclear fallout that has punctuated her last few months, being jealous of Tommy would be the least reasonable thing she’s allowed herself to be, maybe ever.

“You don’t believe me,” Tommy says flatly. “You never - eugh.” He cuts himself off with another ragged sigh, running a hand down his face. “Look, Niki, it’s - we were all together in Pogtopia, right? But I was there first. With him. And you didn’t see the start of it, it was horrible, and I’m glad no one else saw the beginning of it either but it was still just so shit and he kept saying all these terrible things about Tubbo and Fundy and you and,” he takes a shaky breath, “then, when I died, I saw him.”

Her breath catches in her throat.

Well, the voice in the back of her head whistles. If you were still wondering about all this afterlife bullshit, if you want to know where you’re going after your third life, here you go.

and

“You didn’t even - this isn’t about L’Manberg, Wilbur!” Niki shouts.

And then he stops, breathing hard, and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say.

“What else is there?” he asks.

Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut, her chest, her shoulders, chilled down to the bone. With slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes, sitting in her throat, threatening to spill over into a sob. She swallows - to keep her cool, to stay calm, to keep it together -

And then, something in her chest just snaps.

“You said you’d come back for me!” she cries, and her voice hitches on the lump of tears at the back of her throat and god, she sounds absolutely pathetic. Wilbur’s face softens immediately, which somehow just makes her feel even worse. “In Manberg. When Schlatt put me in prison, and you and Tommy were in Pogtopia, you said you’d break me out when it was safe. I waited for weeks , Wilbur. It was… it was horrible.”

“Niki…” a kaleidoscope of emotions flicker across his face, and he seems unsure which to settle on. “We got you out though, right? After the festival.”

“You looked for the button first,” she says quietly, and he stills.

Her sniffling sounds embarrassingly loud against the quiet background of night.

thank you sm!!! i’m gonna put these under the cut because they got a little long sorry (tw for discussion of suicidal ideation)

to preface: tommy is kind of the accidental but incredibly necessary invisible support beam for niki and wilbur’s making amends in bitter. niki cannot accept wilbur’s actions and apology without first acknowledging her own actions and making steps towards an apology, because otherwise it kind of falls flat? in that ending scene niki finally gets what wilbur is feeling and wilbur finally gets that someone else knows how he feels (it’s not perfect 100% yet, but…. that’ll get explored later)

onto the actual snippet! “tommy talks to wilbur - not kindly, but he does” was very important to me! tommy has stuck by wilbur ever since pogtopia, but the tragedy is that he is not equipped to deal with wilbur’s issues, and it shows. wilbur’s first stream after revival depicts this really clearly, where tommy tails wilbur around the whole time but insults him, is still stuck on calling him the villain, physically fights him at some point, etc. on one hand this isn’t healthy but on the other hand tommy is actually around, which is more than can be said for basically any other ally wilbur has had on the dsmp, maybe excluding his dad, who literally killed him lmfao.

this whole issue is exacerbated by the fact that tommy believes that he is the only person who properly understands wilbur, the only person who gets what happened to him, and feels like wilbur is generally his burden to bear. he failed to stop wilbur from both 1. hurting other people and 2. killing himself after the pogtopia-manberg war - and he doesn’t trust wilbur not to do either of those things again, so he’s stuck hovering around wilbur while wilbur is inadvertently setting off his own trauma and feeling responsible for any way he might fuck up and hating that but not wanting to leave. tommy’s memory isn’t perfect and he isn’t a perfect narrator, what he remembers from pogtopia the most were the scariest parts and that’s understandable but it means he’s holding wilbur to the worst expectations of behaviour (and he does so very vocally). the others showed up later, sure, but in tommy’s eyes he’s the only one who saw wilbur’s descent, and by the time they showed up wilbur had already changed irreversably. tommy tries to rationalise this by splitting the ‘different wilburs’ apart from each other in his head (he does this in canon too - there’s one quote from like late 2020 where he says he and tubbo need to keep on going for who wilbur used to be, not who he became, even though they’re,, the same person), and no one challenges that perspective, so he just keeps doing it even though it’s not healthy for him or wilbur.

and then limbo happened and, oh geez, THAT didn’t help jhfaskjjfsa

tommy is on a bit of a knife edge with niki in this fic. niki’s in this state of “ok, he’s annoying whatever, i’m moving on”, but all tommy knows is that she tried to kill him that one time, disappeared off the face of the map, joined a book club with two people who definitely do not like him, and now is just acting weirdly mellow and polite. she is not someone he wants near wilbur bc what the fuck is she gonna do? what is he gonna do? who knows. he’s frustrated that niki doesn’t seem to acknowledge how he’s feeling (especially bc once upon a time she would have been someone he trusted to acknowledge them - they were friends, they fought together) and he’s taking a big step by telling someone about his concerns here, especially bc tommy doesn’t really like talking about them at all. he wouldn’t be saying absolutely anything to niki if he didn’t truly believe she should stay away from wilbur, even if he’s wrong about him. (sometimes i think i write tommy as a little too emotionally mature here but it all goes out the window when wilbur’s brought up. idk if that balances it out)

ok onto niki: this is the first she has actually heard of limbo! she’s only just come around to the fact that resurrection is possible at all. death is kind of a touchy subject for niki both in general and re: wilbur in the fic - she’s coming off of a period in her life where suicidal ideation was, uh, a big thing (whether you want to read that into canon or not is subjective, that’s just the angle i went with in this fic). the sudden existence of a life after death, miserable as it is - and whether she really believes in such a place, when it only exists in tommy and wilbur’s words - that is a lot of information for her to absorb all at once. death is a weird connection point for tommy and niki here, coming right off of the fact that they’ve just acknowledged each other having those problems - tommy, out of, yknow, altruism, would very much like to keep niki out of that place, and niki is quietly reckoning with the fact that that is where she would have sent him. the concept of limbo from the perspective of a character with no experience of it, even secondhand, is so interesting to me like what kind of eldritch location would you feel like you’re living in asghjkl

(also - i gotta be honest the jealousy angle here but mostly when she’s talking later about dream not deserving wilbur’s companionship kinda came out after this post came across my dash while writing. whoops /j)

fun fact, this is the very first snippet of bitter that i ever wrote! all the way back in may!! this is like the moment of the fic - it's where the miscommunication that niki and wilbur have been having is shattered entirely - and so sticking the landing was uhhh kinda important to me lol.

wilbur's entire being in this fic is basically consumed by L'Manberg - he equates his self worth to it entirely. in his eyes, everyone (rightfully) hates him because of what he did to L'Manberg, because L'Manberg was corrupted and he himself with it, etc. niki tries to tell herself this, and while it definitely does form part of her issues with him, it was the betrayal that causes her this much pain - that he seemingly brushed her and their friendship off entirely when he supposedly left her for dead in manberg. because here is what we as the audience know: wilbur couldn’t leave niki in trouble when he heard her life was in danger, even when he was trying to find the button (pretty much the only thing he sees himself as having left at this point) and so he returned. here is what it looks like from niki’s perspective: wilbur told her to wait in manberg until it was safe to come to pogtopia, laid the place with TNT, went to blow up the place, and only returned when he couldn’t find the detonator (and then the first thing she saw him do in pogtopia was encourage the pit behaviour but that’s not what we’re talking about asdfgh). that is massive miscommunication and it’s been brewing between them for months - to make a quirky little reference to the title, niki has been carrying that anger with her so long it's gone bitter. it was never just about l’manberg with niki - not that anger, not her and wilbur’s friendship (hence the little flashback earlier in the fic, bc niki’s relationship to anarchism and statehood or statelessness juxtaposed with her friendships with wilbur and eret - she loves l’manberg bc she loves wilbur, but she loves eret too and those national ties don’t undermine that - is Real Interesting to me) - so when wilbur asks what else there could possibly be (because in his mind, what else could she have bothered staying around for?), she just fucking breaks.

“Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut...with slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes” - prose discussion time! heat and cold are two big throughlines in this fic - particularly for niki, cold is what she is. admittedly when i started with it i mostly wanted to subvert hot = angry and cold = dead but i kinda ended up enjoying this take on it for what it is instead of just as a subversion (also i like the idea of revived people running hot, their bodies r working hard to keep em going). she’s holding onto her feelings and refusing to deal with them, she’s frozen over. descriptions of cold are key to niki’s mental state throughout the fic - cold weight on her chest, feelings of frostbite when she and wilbur hug the first time, ice cold water during the dinner scene, waking up in the cold flat, etc. this was an attempt at describing a more visceral feeling of like, when you’re really mad and you can just feel the adrenaline running through your veins. always felt more cold than hot to me. when she starts to cry, the facade she’s been putting on is finally thawing out and cracking the ice she’s buried her feelings under. (also gives an excuse to write warm comforting hugs towards the end /hj). it’s a loss, it’s catharsis, it’s a whole mess.

and ofc this is all news to wilbur and he feels terrible, because as unintentional as it was, he really really hurt her - because the destruction of l’manberg fucking sucked but above all else wilbur hurt the people he loved because they loved him so much and not in spite of it, because they cared about him so deeply and his death was a massive blow to them. this hasn’t even dawned on him, because how could it? he respects deeply niki (lowkey respects her opinion more than his own at this point) so he has to listen, because it’s niki (“and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say” - because he does), and what she says fucking floors him. in his eyes, he failed her by putting her in danger and then by destroying her home - the idea that she valued him and their friendship so much flies entirely over his head until this moment, and he is forced to re-evaluate the mindset that has motivated him since… basically since pogtopia! the way i write wilbur is like… yes, he’s one of niki’s closest friends and he’s more aware of her insecurities and issues than most (which is why he does always take the time to listen to her, etc) but he does over-idealise her a bit. tbf, i think he does to some extent with everyone (calling tubbo strong on the anniversary stream, for example). also the fact that he really wasn’t around for niki’s lowest moments as a character! he still thinks of her the way she was in l’manberg - confident, steadfast, respected - and this moment shatters that for him as he realises exactly what effect he and his death had on her and everyone else, not just by his actions, but because they loved him and cared for him so deeply.

sorry that this got horrifically long!! and thank you so much for sending snippets in <3333

#ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK TWO WEEKS. LMFAO #asks #thespoonisvictory #dvd commentary #< i have successfully coerced a discord server into doing the dvd commentary on a regular basis and it is the BEST thing

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