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seventhcallisto · 6 months

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Ateez 'n free use (+ somno)

Everything has been consentually talked about beforehand, in passing and seriously !! Mwuah. Lots of smut under the cut. barking. foaming at the mouth.

"Hi love bug 💗 I wanted your thoughts and opinions on ateez with somno / free use heheh" —ask @hhoneylix (my lovely pookie bear) 7.2K WC OF FILTH.

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In a free-use fantasy, partners can have sex with each other whenever they want, no holds barred. Somnophilia refers to the interest in having sex with a sleeping person.

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Wooyoung. It doesn't take much convincing for him to agree, even the words would have him nodding eagerly. He doesn't even question the trust you two have cause you're both in sync like that, maybe he hands his heart out to you on a platter, despite his own head telling him he could end up with it broken (he doesn't care cause he knows he loves you to the moon and back). But if you are just as agreeing as him it'll have his heart soaring. He definitely uses you most days, happily too. He'll tease you; not letting you cum as he gets himself off. But it doesn't last for long when he's between your thighs a minute later. Over and over again and throughout the day. Teasing you so you'll find a reason to ruin him for the evening.

When you both first started, I can see his eyes flashing with everything he'll want to do or want you to do to him. When he realizes you're not saying it as a joke anymore (like you have done before), he completely folds, he's just a whole sub for the first day you guys try it out, whether a bratty one or a good one, he cries for it either way. He gets himself worked up the entire day because it caught him off guard, so whenever he thinks about anything you're doing, calling his name- specifically the nickname you use for him- god, he's throbbing. Telling him to pick up his mess that he left like some guy who can't clean up after himself with your mad tone that reminds him of how you fuck him up when he's being a brat. He'll most likely hide away during practice to try and jerk off (knowing him, he probably also sent you an audio message of it to see if you'll be the first to cave and just brutally use him) but it's just not working :( he gets so frustrated, on the edge of being mean because he's so horny. He snaps his tone, and his attitude sours into something whiny and needy.

He gets borderline bratty when he's so horny. So, at some point, when you're doing your skincare, he pushes at your lower back to bend you over the counter just the slightest, his hands sliding to your hips when he comes to grind his erection against you, a shuddered sigh falling from his lips. His head falls over your shoulder blade. "need this, please, 'm gonna make you feel good too, just want to be inside so bad" he'd mumble as he wiggled your pants down, giving you the opportunity to stop if you'd like. He wouldn't waste a second to jerk his dick out of his own pants and line up to your core. He notices you're also wet, so you've probably thought about this as much as he has all day. You truly don't know how much that drives him crazy. And knowing that you're always ready for him has him driving his cock all the way in you.

Only stilling for you to adjust to his stinging size. But he doesn't sit there for long because he's trembling with his hands placed on either side of you, his hips grinding your ass forward cause of his pelvis. It really doesn't take long for him to cum, especially if you're telling him how needy he is. How he can't even wait til you're done to fuck. "n-no, don't move, please- ill be quick- let me cum-" He whimpers and agrees with everything you say. "You're right- you're always right- fuck I'm addicted to you- I'm your whore- oh god-" lost in the way you feel around him as he drives his hips all the way to meet yours in sloppy liquidy slaps. His hands grip the counter around your stomach tightly, his fingers turning white from the grip, caging you against it. His eyes clenched close every so often, strangled gasps choked from his throat. He paints your walls with his cum, slumping over your back and shaking ever so lightly in the afterglow. You don't get to cum because he already did before you. He verbalized that when he tried to rub circles over your neglected nerve bundle. You swipe his hand away, going on to wash your own and continue your skincare, even with him still inside. He loudly whimpers, knowing he's in for a long night for every rule he's broken today. :((( he's sorry!(no he's not)

When you brutally and completely obliterate him later, tied to the bed and shaking after every edge or orgasm he has. You finish him with an unhealthy amount of kisses to his face and aftercare that has him cuddled up on your stomach, his face digging into your side. He falls asleep like that. It's really no for long when he wakes up, jolted from a pleasant and not very wholesome dream. Your hand is already stroking him over his shorts, cupping and pushing against his hard on that's imprinted and leaning against your hip from where he's halfway thrown over you. “Are you awake now? So needy woo, even when you're asleep, trying to hump me like a pillow” he whimpers when you laugh at him, pushing his thighs apart for more friction and shoving his face back into your chest. “Come on baby, you want to cum again? So early?” your hand stops for just a second, enough for his teary and tired eyes to blink up at you. Your hand slipping past his waistband and jerking his sticky tip. He's loud and definitely more affected like this. Choking on a sob when your nails scrape against his length and veins. He cums with a guttural choking gasp, jerking forward to stimulate himself the rest of the way with your palm. Staining his shorts with semen. He's definitely fucking you when he wakes up later. Even if you're still in deep sleep. Two can play that game.

Mingi. Oh. Oh! It takes a good hard minute for it to click. He loves it, though. Of course, he trusts you (a little too much), and he'll shyly ask if you trust him as much too (and you do!). It also doesn't take much convincing for him. He gets so turned on from the idea. Just imagining being able to get off whenever you're around. You might actually be fucking more often because of it. Like, every day. His libido is crazy. But what drives his will is the idea of being buried balls deep in you. And with somno??? Oh lord.

You're asleep when he comes home from practice, and he just really wanted you. Even when he tried to wake you up with a gentle pat to your shoulder, you don't even greet him. Turning over away from him. He knows you're not ignoring him on purpose, too tired to respond to the outside world in your head. He didn't think about using you in your sleep until he was choking on a cup of cold water. Remembering the conversation you had on the phone earlier. “Yknow mingi, if I'm ever asleep when you get home, I don't mind”.

He's slipping himself between your legs on the bed, carefully. Of course, he notices when the only thing you're wearing is his shirt and underwear. Watching you sleep on your stomach with a pillow propped under your chest comfortably and your arm shoved under the pillow where your head lays. Missing the way his body would be next to yours even in your unconscious state. He'd coo internally, pushing your thigh up so it's leaning up on the bed some more, your core and ass sticking out from the angle through the tight fabric of your underwear. He'd slip his fingers into you, pushing the thin fabric aside, working you open with quick and gentle scissoring motions. He'd praise you with his own tiny breaths when you clenched around the digits. Watching your face scrunch up from the feeling. Your head digging into the pillow some more and pushing back against his hand that's rubbing against your cunt. He knows your cue and clumsily pulls his fingers out before you can cum, whimpering in your sleep.

“Shh, im putting it in now princess, don't worry” he'd kiss your neck, leaning over you. Ready to please with something bigger and more fulfilling. His knees placed on eitherside of your hips just as he pulls his pants down. He lines his tip, holding your panties aside so he can slip in comfortably. It's so easy when you're relaxed. So pliable around his big cock when he sinks in, his hands gripping your lower hips. And holy fuck. Mingi is definitely doing this again. His eyes cloud as you swallow him in, every inch being lubed up easily. He sets a slow pace, pushing you further up the mattress with his bigger body that cages over your own soft and completely willful one. His hips rock forward, every so often to pull all the way back until his tip is around your ring and just slide in. He groans under his breath, quiet in the night. Your own sounds are whimpered and small due to the pillow in your face. Your face scrunches, and mingi feels you stirring, moving in your sleep as you begin to wake up. “Hey sleeping beauty” he shushes, leaning over you to prop his hands on either side of your head instead, making sure he doesn’t slip out. “‘m just using you like you told me to” he would sigh into his words, stuttering every so often when he bottoms out again and again, his hips dig and prod so good, burying to the hilt and pushing his tip into your cervix. “Perfect pussy, was made for me..” he groans, fingers digging hard into the sheets. “mingi..” You finally whisper, driving his heart rate higher, he hums to answer you, thrusting his hips down quicker.

Groaning at your walls fluttering. You're cumming with a shudder, pushing your ass back against his thrusts. “mingi-” you heave, shoving your face into the pillow. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, mingi stills with himself buried to the hilt inside you. It pools deep inside you, leaving you warm and sticky and oh so full. “Taking it soooo good, just like that..” he praises, soft breaths fanning against your face. He slips himself out to lay beside you, just to lay down for a bit. Your eye peaks open, meeting his sweaty face. “Hi, I missed you,” he chuckles.

San. He's so excited and so ready for it whenever, just nodding along and mutually agreeing on the topic. He'll want to know you're fully in it, even going out of his way for consent first at the start of the day. Like, always asking for consent even if you tell him to just use you already. Trust is easy when it's always consented beforehand. He loves you a lot, wouldn't even debate with you on the subject of who loves who more. And it isn't even a question when he trusts you blindly all the time.

He wants you to initiate that first time, so when you pull him out of the room as soon as he's off stage, he knows the way your feet stomp, n the way you grip his wrist in your hands. He bows his head at everyone who passes, all of them seemingly put off by your behavior. But it doesn't matter cause san is about to get high off of you. His face in shoved into your core the minute his knees hit the floor of the bathroom, his pants creasing, he's still sweaty from performing on stage, but who gives a fuck when your leg is thrown over his shoulder. Pussy drinker !!! He swallows so hard and his tongue licks everything up, throat vibrating when he moans over your clit. You're tugging his hair and his scalp burns in the best way. You cum shortly after, and he devours it all. Pushing him into leaning against the wall so you can slot to your own knees and drop his pants, his buckle cluttering against the floor. His head gets thrown against the wall when you take him in your mouth, he palms your head but doesn't dare to grip it. The pace you set on his cock is yours to control and yours alone. He moans airily, thrusting his cock down your throat, I can see san preferring head to be messy, especially when you go down on him. So make those nasty gargling sounds and slurp him like you're thirsty. “Y-ah- you couldn't wait?” He asks through a moan, hands wrapping around to pull your hair out of your face. Ever the gentleman as he plunges his pulsing tip down your sloppy mouth. You hum around him, as if that's an answer. He cries, “oh- just like that- ugh” you hum again, he thrusts hard, cumming just as harshly. You swallow everything and more, overstimulating him when your cheeks hollow as you pull off him with a pop. He's pulling you up to sloppily make out. You stop him, finger over his lips when he chases you. “We have to get back baby, I can't be late.”

n somno? He's the one to initiate it. He's coming back to your shared hotel room after doing a live. Exhausted and just wanting to cuddle. The first thing he hears when he moves into the bed next to you is you calling his name, hand reaching around for him. “San?” You whisper. He heeds your call with a kiss on your cheek. Intertwining your wandering hand with his. “I'm here baby” You turn over your side, humming with content when you fall back to dreamland. Something about you calling him, just needing to feel his hand over you, god, it's ridiculous, but he's hard. He tries to breathe, to ward the boner away. But you look so pretty in those shorts, and your top is so silky falling off your shoulder like that.

And soon enough he's giving into his desires and working his cock with his hand that isn't in yours. Tugging himself off and hiding his noises, it's not enough, of course not, cause it's not your pussy, he's just not in it, even when he spits in his hand and uses his precum. He can't even focus, turning you over to lay flat on your back, his hand slipping from yours. You stir, just slightly, eye peaking open to look down at him over your waist, he holds himself just above you, pecking the skin where the shirt rid up on your tummy. He kisses your hip that's free of the cloth on it, trailing kisses everywhere. “Can I pretty? Can I please have you right now?” he whispers so sweetly. You nod, despite still being groggy. “let me sleep still okay?”. You don't have to tell him twice, he kisses just under the swell of your stomach, appreciatively, dipping his hands into your shorts and undies to pull them off in one go. “Just let me do it all, don't worry your pretty head about anything” Pussy drinker !!!! His face is buried inside you, grinding his cock against the white sheets, you hum and moan quietly, urging him on.

He brushes his nose against your clit and indulges himself on working you with his tongue and his fingers, praising you through breaths when you come to the edge, he lets you cum with a gaspy call of his name, encouraging your thighs to almost suffocate him when he laps up your juices. He crawls up to you with one more appreciative kiss against your clit, pushing his cock in with ease, neglected and so red :( he practically falls apart above you. Snapping his hips a couple of times to be as close to you, pushing himself to cum from all the strain he's been putting his poor cock through. He pants when he cums, your name falling off his tongue like a sinatry, all the while you hardly stir, eyebrows scrunching at the warmth of his load gathering in your cunt. You're so warm, he falls atop you with a sigh, stilling inside. You're both definitely going for a second round, cause he woke you up and now he's the sleepy one.

Seonghwa. Oh! Okay! Oh god. He loves the idea, although a little nervous at first, all mutual agreements might end up with you both already going through a list of things that is completely fine. Would want to know everything you don't like and do like beforehand. He's so happy to know you trust him, although it took a hard time for him to open up to you, he's completely and wholeheartedly in it as soon as he knows, communication is the first thing with him and then trust. It's very sweet for a while until you guys actually get to doing it.

Uhm, I also see him as a pussy drinker, sorry not sorry. He wants to be buried in you all the time. But it isn't until you're propped up on the couch, the tv playing in the distance, he's been needy for affection lately and maybe you haven't noticed it as much, he shifts against your hip, head leaning over your shoulder, watching your eyes slump close and flutter from his breath on your cheek. For a second you think he's getting up when he slips down the couch, but the next he's throwing your legs over his shoulder and tossing your pants. When did that happen? “Go on love, keep sleeping, don't mind me” you do mind. A lot. He kisses your inner thigh. Even as he pushes his hair behind his ears softly and sticks his tongue out to lick along your entirety. You buck as he swirls your little bud, sucking on it. His eyes are closed in bliss, hands gripping your thighs so tightly.

He eats you out like a man enjoying a five course meal, knowing every sweet spot that has you seeing stars, even without his fingers you cum with his name on your lips, but he keeps going, nosing your thigh before he's diving back in. He has you there in mere minutes again, you can't even focus on the dream you were just in. I can see seonghwa with his head buried in your thighs for hours with a few breaks in between that has you thinking he's done(he is not) trying out every little thing he thinks of, how quickly he can get you there and how easily you come undone if he just puts even his fingertips in. He teases you with his words and edges you on. Every so often if you're just doing something casual, he'll stick his hands down your pants and make you cum on his fingers. “That was a good one love, you sounded so pretty” you hate him. But it's no different when you straddle his waist when he's laying on the bed, his own phone in his hands.

He greets you gently, it's really innocent at first cause you're touchy and seonghwa loves it when you're touchy. When he notices your hips are wiggling back and forth over his lap, he places his phone to the side to watch you, you're just,,, just there. Hovering above him, he can feel the heat of your body over his own, your head on his chest as you pretend to relax with him. He knows what you're doing, and he lets you, his cock stirring in his silky pants at the thought of being inside you. Your finger scraps against the hem of his pants, he moans quietly. You pull him out of his slacks and pump him the rest of the way to make him fully erect, his hand lulled to the side as his phone continues to play the video he was once watching. You pump him slowly, watching his tip pebble with sticky white drops. He watches you come up to hover your hips above him, lifting your oversized shirt to the side. It's then he realizes you're not in anything other than the shirt. His lip perked up into a smirk, it's quickly wiped away when you sink down on him. His mouth falling agape. Screw his phone, it's already gone, across the bed. His hands guide your hips in lazy swirls, pretty moans falling from his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he's just so pretty as you lifts your hips and drill them down on him, cutting off his moans every time you do so. His fingertips dig into your waist, pleading for you to keep going and helping you out when you slow down. Taking it at your own pace until he swings you forward and thrusts up into you.

It's you using him, but he needs to be buried to the hilt the entire time. “Keep going- mm” His cock throbbing against your insides and hitting so deep cause he's so long. He can get loud but it's mostly breathy moans. When he cums- and it's inevitable- he's crying from the overstimulation of you continuing to hug his cock in your cunt. He watches you swirl your hips forward to chase your own orgasm, pleading for you. “S’too much please please- cum on my cock- need it so bad” Not to stop, but to get there with him as he sputters with tears down his cheeks from how good he feels. You cum quietly, falling over his chest and leaving yourself buried in his neck, he whimpers. Your hips continuing to swirl. He grips them, stopping them so he can get some relief. When he's softening inside you, he kisses your head gently. Picking up his phone to continue scrolling.

Hongjoong. Again! He loves the idea. It doesn't take any convincing. He might be the one to bring it up first. It'll start off with free use and gradually get to talking about the somno part. He'll tell you he wants to know your thoughts before he voices his own, just so he isn't pressuring you into it. He buzzes with excitement and also just so much love. He's always wanted you both to feel comfortable enough to get to this part of your relationship. And when it finally comes up, he just uses and abuses it after the initial agreement. God. He loves knowing you trust him to do it to you whenever, and he vocally tells you he loves the idea of you using him when you feel like it. Despite being shy with how he says it. It doesn't take much time for him to fall completely for you and trust you with his entire being.

I see him using you all the time. Whenever he can get his sneaky fingers around your hips and dig his boner into you. Casually talking about his day when you're standing at the kitchen counter, well- he's already pulling your dress up and slotting your underwear down in a swoop. His nimble fingers slotting into you quickly. “What was that? Go on angel” he'll want you to talk through it, telling him about your day through whimpers and stuttering. “n then she- oh god joong just like that-” you’d end up a mess, and he hums, encouraging your words. Pulls out just as you're about to cum. And then he kisses your cheek and pulls your underwear back up. he's the worse. Ugh. You'll have to be the first to fuck him up. He's talking as he drives, a quiet tone to his voice in the peace and quiet, completely oblivious to the heat in your eyes. He stares at the road and practically jumps when you lean over into his lap, his hand goes to hold your head, on instinct.

“Bab-” you're pulling his zipper down. oh! Oh!!! OHOHO. He quirks in your grasp, cock springing to life the quicker you jerk him off. When you spit on his length that's when he moans lowly, you slap his thigh. And he jolts. “Pay attention to the road.” Fuck him up!!! Despite reaching that edge with only a few short tugs and your painted lips swirling over his tip lightly, he doesn't cum at all cause you're already at the destined location. He hates it, he drove as slow as he could and yet he still didn't cum in your pretty mouth :( Grumbled whines under his breath as he shoves himself back into his jeans. The fabric hurts. And you're smirking at him like the devil. You're playing a dangerous game. And when he gets you alone in a house full of people you know, he's got you crying, pretty mascara running down your face and throating his length until your nose brushes against him.

“hngh- You did this to yourself angel” He clicks his tongue, head thrown back against the door. It's lewd and it's definitely free use for him when he uses your head to jerk himself off on your tongue. He takes a good solid time getting there, shoving his load down your throat and pulling out enough to watch the rest spurt over your lips. Swipes it off with his thumb and puts it back in your mouth. “suck,” if by chance he's sleeping or resting, which is rare. You won't be the one to do it to him often, on the other hand he'll want you to. But he definitely won't make you. So one day when you've had it rough, just tug his sweats down with his back resting against the bed, a soft edge to his face when he sleeps. pillow slotted under his grasp and head thrown to the side. Oops, he's already hard. Morning wood. Or was he just having a nice dream? You're already on him in seconds, bottoming him inside til your pelvis meets his. His eyebrows furrow and his breathing picks up. Gasps falling out of his parted mouth, his hands twitch every so often when you call his name quietly. As if he can hear you in his dreams. Your name is the only thing he says every so often, jumbled and under his breath when he moans prettily.

Whenever he twitches too much inside you, and his face scrunches you stop so he can't cum just yet. He'll whimper and whine, throwing his head back and around. His hand comes to rub his face and then fall back to his side, right next to your knees. You swirl your hips against and practically write your name on his dick. He'll stir the second time you edge him, waking him up to one of the best sights. “Ah. m- fuck- cumming” he whimpers, pistoning his hips up to meet yours, he continues to do so even when he cums, load splattering against the sheets when it pools out of you, he tells you to keep going, encourages it too. Sloppy the whole time, overstimulating himself so he's hard again, throbbing and moaning loudly, his cheat shuddering with every breath he takes. When you cum he's pulling you down to shove his tongue down your throat, catching every sound and vocal cue with his fingers rubbing against your clit. He overstimulates you in the process too.

Yunho. Might genuinely take a couple of times to talk about it more than once. He just wants to know you're the one completely fine with it. (cause he is!) He'll work his way up to it, sleepy sex and telling you he'll handle it the whole time. And when he feels the need to be buried in you, he'll always ask beforehand, tell him he doesn't even need to ask, cause he always will. He trusts you with his heart, so of course, he trusts you completely when it comes to sex. You both are completely in tune.

It's mostly casual when it happens. It usually starts because you're in a position he likes, letting his imagination go on for a bit, you're on your tummy on the couch, feet kicking behind you and typing away at your phone. He could feel like a perv for the way he's looking at you, oblivious to his growing hard-on. But he can't help it when he crawls over you to lay on your back, his dick pressing into you through his sweats. You go to question him. He smiles shyly. “Nothing baby, just want to be close to you” yeah uh huh sure bud. It's fine for a couple of seconds until his hips move, and he's sighing in your ear. You just let him get himself off, typing away. Ignorant to the way it's just not working for him, he slips your shorts down, and you only slightly help with lifting your hips. He'll immediately go at it, kissing your shoulder and neck, appreciation on his tongue when he tells you he'll be quick. He slips himself out and bottoms inside with ease. The stretch is perfect.

Yunho has a big cock but you take it like a champ, he always has you prepped for him too. It's just so easy to slip into you. His hand snakes under your waist to pinch your clit, you jolt away from the sensation, dropping your phone. It slides too far from your reach. It's not long of yunho's soft pace before you moan at him to go faster. Through a gaspy groan he laughs, his large palm holding him up on the arm of the couch and the other spreading your thigh farther open for him to watch you suck him inside. His pace quickens, it's enough for you to feel satisfied, throwing your hips back to meet him. The slapping noises are lewd, consuming the entire living room with just you two. Yunho is just big in general, so the tiny couch(that needs to be replaced) hardly holds his size. He's using his foot to push himself harder into you, his knee bending the couch harshly. Soft grunts and heavy pants coming from his chest, it reverbs off your back, although he's leaning over you he's still close.

His other hand circling your clit and swirling the bundle. You cum with a guttural whimper, his name quiet on your tongue. “gonna fill you up real good baby,” he smirks through his words. “You're gonna keep it in, yeah?” You nod your head, whining from the sensitivity. Yunho cums with your name chanting off his lips, hips stuttering above you. If you do use him while he's sleeping he's more likely to move with you, meeting your hips as he ruts in his sleep. Eyebrows pulled taunt and mouth agape. He lets out the prettiest groans. He cums with one final loud moan, fisting the sheets, and completely and wholeheartedly falls back into sleep. It's like he didn't wake up at all, and he didn't! Make sure you clean him up tho. Carefully. I see him using you more than you using him, only on occasion though. When he's sleepy and just wants to feel you around his cock. So hard he can't take the strain anymore, he throws your thighs over his lap, already pantsless both of you. Your sleepy body leaning into his warmth.

He kisses your calve, propping both of your legs over his shoulder before he's sliding in. He's already prepped you with his fingers. He's a bit more quiet then, focus on just having his way with you(because you let him) but also to see you unravel with him with no filter or anything blocking you from letting it all show on your face? He really likes it, like. Really. Likes it. His sloppy hips are more likely to make you wake up, or the stretch in your legs as you're bent over him, sandwiched between him and the bed, his thumb drawing figure eights on your clit to reach you there faster. Your whine is scratchy, signaling you're close. He'll coax you with words even if you can't hear him “go on baby, cream around me” He groans right in your ear when you tip, hands reaching out to hold him close because you've suddenly woken up to your legs shaking and an orgasm wracking your body. Yunho often cums with you and this time is no different, he's stilling with his chest shaking from his breathing. Curling his hips forward so he's all the way in. Keeping you full with his essence.

Yeosang. It takes sooo many words of affirmation for him to even think about it. He's just a bit too scared of the idea of you not being in the mood or enjoying it. He puts your pleasure before his all the time and when you tell him to just use you to his heart's content he just really can't :((( baby just wants you to be in it as much as he is. He wants to know his pretty baby is feeling as good as he is, and eventually, he'll tell you that himself when you bring it up again. You're free to use him whenever !!! He'll always be prepared and ready for you. He gets turned on by you, even mentioning you want him in that way. (He loves being the one you want even if the situation isn't sexual), so when you tell him to imagine, you're always wanting him (and you do). His thoughts on it will shift.

Once again, he doesn't act it out much when it comes to free use. On the other hand, I could see him turning over in his sleep, waking up from a sweaty dream. He can't get the thoughts of dream-you out of his head, so he does what you've recommended you both do before, kissing your shoulder to see if you'll wake. You don't, and so he goes on, trailing them down your collar before he's at the hem of your shirt. He's slipping himself under it. Sucks on your boobs while he jerks himself off :( I don't really see yeosang using your cunt as you sleep; he prefers to see his pretty baby up close to see your eyes flutter. But maybe on a special occasion if he really really REALLY wants you, he'll push you to your side so your back is pressed against his chest, pulling your shorts and undies down enough to push his cockhead in. He sighs so prettily and makes sure you don't show any discomfort from the stretch, his pace is slow and sleepy, just trying to get there from a few thrusts in your warm and wet hole.

He'll use his fingers to rub soothing circles around your clit. Paying special attention to the way your body reacts cause you can't really use your words. When it comes to sex like this he's quiet. Not very vocal cause he's so focused on driving his hips in and out of you. His length soothing in its pace against your cervix. Your eyes flutter when you feel the heat of needing to cum, waking up in the movement of yeosangs thighs against your ass. “Yeo-” you cry quietly, cumming tightly, the fluttering around his length has him airily groaning, your hand reaching to hold his that's kept on your waist to hold you close. He hums, broken and short and breathy. Before he's speeding up his messy pace and cumming inside. He stills and doesn't bother moving for a good minute, even as you turn your head to pepper kisses on his temple, his face shoved into your neck. Genuinely could see him almost falling asleep like that, buried inside you and completely comfortable. But as soon as he feels you wiggling he'll get to cleaning up. Also the type to just let you use him whenever you want too, he'll gladly just sit back and let you.

He'll be on the couch with his phone in hand, probably in one of the many dressing rooms waiting for the rest of the guys to get back. You drop to your knees in front of him and he immediately fumbles, eyes dashing to the door. “I locked it, don't worry” you pull the zipper of his brand new pants down, the leather straining against his thighs. His cock throbbing in your tight grasp, pumping him to stand full. He'll throw his head back against the couch and bite his lip to hold his moans when your mouth wraps around him. Getting him there quicker than he can proudly say, he'll whimper and hold his own hips down. Noticing every sound and how loud it seems to him. He'll hold your head, gently, following you with it against the back of it. Your pace is rough and brutal, getting him off with sticky noises and humming against his tip. He might actually start whimpering through his bruised lips.

“Sl-slow down-nng” oh my god he feels a bit bad when his hips thrust up against your throat. Eyes scrunching with pleasure, his hips don't know whether or not to pull away or to keep drilling up into you. So he's squirming on the couch, little sounds escaping here and there when you swallow around him. He warns you when he's about to cum, his hips driving away from you and digging into the couch. His hand fisting against the back of your neck shakily. Your name is the last thing he says before he's seeing stars and shooting his load on your tongue, if you swallow it up greedily he will definitely start shaking from the stimulus. “Jagi- ah.” His hand curls, your lips popping off him. He completely deflates on the couch. You'll have to do the cleaning up, be gentle though he gets really sensitive.

Jongho. It really is about trust with him. It will take a lot and so long before you guys even get to that part. Trusting you completely will be the most fragile part of it, jongho doesn't necessarily wear his heart on his sleeve so when he gets into it with you, he really has to think about it on his own for a good couple of days. So when he comes around and brings it up again, you tell him he doesn't have to agree for your sake. But he genuinely is agreeing because he loves you, and he's beginning to love the idea of being used by you when you need him. He just always wants to provide in every way possible. He'll only want to use you on the most stressful of days, though.

His cock is there for you to use and abuse to your content. He won't verbally say it (ever) but you know he finds a certain love for you using him so much. He'll be resting with his head on the couch and his body completely relaxed, drifting away in his own head. He'll immediately wake up to you leaning on his lap. He's no fun for somno, he wakes too easily especially if he feels you on his lap or anywhere near his dick. He'll paw at your hips and sigh knowingly. Eyes still closed and just the hint of a grin on his lips. “Right now?” He'll tease, his sleepy voice just ugh, and the little chuckle he does. Slide down his shorts and help him shuffle them down a bit, he'll help with pumping himself a bit so you can shuffle your own clothing off. Just slow strokes to his growing cock, he shudders when you line him up and use his tip to drag through your folds. Might even get impatient with the way his hips buck. But when you sink down his eyes are slowly opening to watch your joint area. Swirling your waist back and forth on his lap.

He's not very helpful this way; you're the one who woke him from his nap and now you should be the one to get you both off. You're cumming before he is, hips stilling and falling on his chest. He clicks his tongue, a short amount of teasing coming from his chest. His hips stutter, pushing you back down with his strength. He cums shortly after. Just buzzing with domesticity, he'll just be happy to stay like that for a while, but the liquids dripping along his body just won't do for him. You're the one cleaning up cause you initiated it ! Sorry not sorry. If it's a long day and jongho is just coming home, his body is heavy and his head pulsing with a growing headache from the amount of things memorized. You'll be the first thing on his mind, being close to you always blows off steam but he will debate on whether or not he'll want to wake you up or just go on ahead.

So he takes the easier option. Cooing at you gently when you sigh softly, he's positioned right by your butt as you're turned on your side. You’ve definitely fallen asleep from waiting on him. You'll call his name softly, propping your head up to look at him. “Shh, just relax and let me do all of it for you, turn your pretty head off for me” he kisses your lips so sweetly, just a short peck and you're already turning your head back into the pillow he brought from the bedroom, body sighing and falling back. Preps you with his hands and fingers, gently swirling them inside you and working you open for him. Encourages your orgasm when he knows you like a certain thing he does, shushing your soft moans. He always preps you to take him. He likes it better that way. So he's already strained and hard to the touch in his palm when he slips himself out of his jeans. Hissing from the harsh fabric under his breath. He'll make sure to lube himself up with his own spit beforehand so you're not lubing his length up completely by yourself.

Works the head in and gently leans over you, breathing softly above you. He'll swirl his hips to get himself all the way in, stopping to pull out and ease more of his length inside. Eyeing your comfortable state the entire time. His pace will be erratic and slow, just finding what works best for the angle and what makes you squirm around him. Once he finally finds it, he'll encourage it on, pouding into your gummy spot until you're whimpering. Hips stuttering occasionally from the way you clench around him “There you go, sweet girl, just like that” he coos, watching your body shake from the orgams ripping out of you You sigh so prettily when he drills his cock back in, holding your thigh to keep you close even as you pull from the overstimulation. His breath stuttering our of his lungs when he paints your insides. Falling the rest of the way over you. He sighs heavily. Brain shortwiring. He'll definitely be doing that again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

UHM UHM, I... I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

Thank you to my pookie for being so patient with me ;( ily bb, here's that request you've been waiting for. And my cutie patootie @uhhheather for helping me out w jongho n yeosang. U played an important role so thank uuuuu

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b1mbodoll · 8 months

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okay so, back on my hanbin stuff because he is so boyf.... I am vv lazy and vv sleepy so I often think about cockwarming, especially about cockwarming hanbin. pls think with me, just sitting on his lap with his cock inside you, all drolly and sleepy resting your head on his shoulder while he works, and he is rubbing circles in your back and whispering praises in your ear that your doing so well for him and taking him so well, being such a good girl :( you fall asleep midway and wake up to him fucking you very lightly, when he notices you're awake he just goes "slept well, doll?" and starts fucking you harder and you just start seeing starts because he hits all your spots so good :'( the hanbin brain rot is real and I am suffering from it severely these past few days.

🪱💤 haha get it? sleepy worm cause I'm sleepy... ill see myself out sorry

pairings: sung hanbin x f! reader

warnings: cockwarming + somnophilia + praise + breeding + creampies + pregnancy ment + daddy kink + spit

💌: my wormie baby im so sorry for the wait but i hope u like this <33 thank u for sending this in i adore u mwah ♥︎

hanbin knows you’re addicted to bein’ stuffed full :( he knows your dumb lil brain cant think of anything other than when he’s gna breed ur lil cunt n he thinks its so cute bc youre so obsessed with him <3 you always take everything he gives you like a good lil girl ‘nd what kind of daddy would he be if he didnt satisfy your needs 🥺 that’s why he decides to fuck you til you pass out n keeps you impaled on his cock even as you sleep, your unconscious body twitching every now and then when his cockhead prods at your cervix.

you wake up to hanbin still buried deep inside your cunt n it makes you whine 🥺 globs of cum making a mess where his dick met your hole. “binnie?” you whisper, mindlessly grinding your hips, trying to pleasure yourself by using your sleeping boyfriend.

you attempt to shake him awake before whispering harshly, “daddy, wake up! please wake up, need to feel you cum in me again, pretty please.”

hanbin stirs at your whiny voice, his heart clenching because of your pitiful tone. “‘s okay pretty baby, ‘m here, daddy’s here. i’ll fill you up again don’t worry, jus’ settle down for me, doll.” he presses a loving kiss to your nape, biting softly when he pulls away.

a content sigh escapes you as your daddy begins to quicken his thrusts, grunting in your ear as attemps to help you reach your orgasm and selfishly chases his own, cock throbbing inside of you.

“always such a good little girl for daddy, love you so much.” hanbin’s voice is laced with affection and it makes your heart melt, feeling butterflies in your tummy as you grow shy. “doin’ so well, ‘m gonna cum, princess. daddy’s gonna knock you up n keep you nice n bred, jus’ how you like it.”

his dick turns you into a dumb drooly mess, spit leaking down your chin as white hot pleasure overcomes you, eyes crossing and your cunt spasming when you cum. the vice grip your cunt has on hanbin’s length draws every drop of semen from him, white ropes spraying deep inside your hole, flooding your womb and making you mewl pathetically.

#♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.the honeypot #♡.sweetheart: 🪱💤#zb1 #zerobaseone #sung hanbin #zb1 x reader #zb1 smut #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone smut #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin smut #💌.daddy kink #💌.somnophilia #💌.creampies #💌.breeding #💌.pregnancy #💌.spit #💌.praise kink

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cryonme · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

—graham dunne x fem!reader

—summary: the story of you and graham dunne was never simple, but his love for you never faltered.

— word count: 2.7k

—tw: addiction, implied drugging, alcohol, cursing, reader says she "doesn't wanna be here anymore", very obvious signs of mental illness, the works...

—a/n: so... I did not intend for this fic to be this long or this sad, but here we are. I'm breaking it into two parts so its easier to read, part two is coming shortly!! I apologize for how sad this is lol but I promise its a happy ending story! also, sorry for how I wrote daisy! she's my girl and I love her, it was just for the plot I swear! this is the first fic I've posted in about 6 months so im rusty, please be kind! and please, don't read if anything listed in the triggers is going to upset you, I want you all happy and comfortable! XO

(flashbacks in italics)

Nothing was ever Daisy’s fault, was it?

At least, that’s what Graham Dunne thought when he got a call from Karen saying his girl was wasted at a party with Daisy attached to your hip.

She should have known what you were struggling with, she should have known that you couldn’t handle a party, she should have known this wasn’t what you needed. Daisy Jones should’ve fucking known.

To be completely fair, they really all should’ve known. You’d been around since day 1. Everyone knew better, Daisy just happened to be the red corvette.

“You can’t keep doing this, my love.” Camilla whispered oh so gently, holding your hair back from your face, pressing a cold rag to your neck.

It was a small gig, at some shitty bar called Tony’s in Pittsburgh. The band always had a couple beers and maybe a shot or two before a show but you had begun to need more. You snuck vodka into your water bottles and begged the bartenders to sneak you a couple free extras by pulling your top down and leaning over the bar, using your forearms to push your tits up.

It worked every time. Pigs.

“Can do whatever I want.” You slurred, cheek pressed to the toilet seat.

But damnit, you knew she was right.

Tony’s wasn’t the first time.

There was Rod’s, and The Ladie’s Room, and The Shiner Saloon, and some girl named Lisa’s 18th birthday party. It was becoming a pattern, everyone could tell.

You always went back to your house after a show. Your parents had been completely absent since you were 15, you never knew where they were. And after every show, their cars were never once in the driveway.

A safespace.

Billy would sit outside of the bathroom, head leaning against the door while Graham waited in the living room, arms crossed and head down, not wanting to listen to your cries and shakes of pain.

Eddie would retreat to the guest room, but he usually wouldn’t be able to fall asleep til he heard the click of your door next to his.

Warren would be passed out on the couch as soon as you all walked through the door, not that he didn’t care about you immensely, but the poor kid could just not stay awake if he was tired.

“I wanna go to bed.” You said.

Camilla sighed, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

You nodded and so did Camilla. She got up to get Billy like she always did, and he’d come and pick you up off of the bathroom floor, as he always did, and carry you to your room and lay you on the bed, letting Camilla make sure you’re comfortable, like she always did.

Graham would come in and ask how you’re doing, like he always did, and he’d make himself comfortable on your floor with throw pillows and spare blankets, like he always did.

But that night, after Tony’s, things changed.

“I can’t do this anymore, Graham.” You whimpered.

Fuck.

This was early days, Graham was still awkward as hell and didn’t know how to go about things like this.

“Do what?” He croaked, mustering up the courage to be there for you.

“This. I can’t live like this. I’m afraid I’m gonna kill myself.”

Graham was up in an instant, reaching for the doorknob. “Do you want me to get Camilla?”

You shook your head, “No, please. Just-” You wiped a tear from your cheek, “Will you just lay with me?”

“Anything.” Graham breathed as he settled into bed next to you. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, being too drunk to care about any awkwardness and Graham was thankful.

“We’ll get you out of this, promise.”

That was the last time anybody saw you drink anything besides a beer or two, following that was shirley temples and cherry cokes.

Nobody really knew the heaviness of addiction then, but they knew that you were happier, and that’s all that really mattered to them. You were even laughing at Warren’s jokes and Billy and Eddie’s lame bickering, everything felt okay.

“You don’t drink?” Karen had asked, the first time you properly met in California, while she was digging through the fridge searching for a beer. You shook your head, hoping you weren’t going to get some crazy reaction like you were a zoo animal in a cage like you got from most people.

She just nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as she pulled two coca cola bottles from the fridge, popping them open with her ring and handing you one.

“Cheers to that.”

You were sober enough to realize you were in love with Graham, and confident enough to tell him. And man, he could’ve exploded.

There was a celebration, at the house in Laurel Canyon, just the 7 of you.

Warren recalls later that Graham looked like he’d been dipped in sunshine and rainbows.

“Like he’d just smoked sunshine and been fucked by a rainbow. It was crazy, man.”

Well, almost.

You’d been around the band multiple times while they drank and it was never a problem. You’d have the first round of beers with them then tap out, but you always stayed and had fun, smoked a couple joints and cigarettes, never without a mocktail or coca cola in your hand. Sometimes, usually Karen or Camilla, someone would join you on the sober night, and that always felt really nice.

That night had felt different, you were scared.

“I’m gonna fuck him up Warren…” You said as you laid on the floor with the drummer as Down By The Seaside by Led Zeppelin played from the record player, Warren laughed.

“Yeah you are.” He said, his tone suggestive as he bumped his elbow with yours.

You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat creeping into your cheeks. “You know what I mean, man. I’m gonna ruin him.”

Warren had known you long enough and listened to enough of the songs you wrote to where he’d like to think he knew you pretty well.

And you never opened up out of the blue unless you were drunk.

“Have you been drinking?” He asked, not looking up from the ceiling. You scoffed.

“I still have a beer here and there, Warren.”

“You know what I mean, man.” He repeated your words back to you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I’m going to bed.” You said and stood up, trying your hardest not to stumble or slur.

“Honey…” Warren started, pushing himself off of the floor to try to stop you.

“NO!” You whipped around, flipping your hair so forcefully it stung your face but you were quick to pull it back.

“Don’t fucking- don’t fucking do that, man!” You started, holding a hand up. “My own friends don’t even fucking trust me i’m just constantly babied! Do you know how that feels?”

At that point, Karen, Eddie and Billy had tuned in, being in the kitchen. Camilla and Graham must have been elsewhere, he had always confided in her like a sister.

“Hey–” Billy tried to interject with a hand on your wrist but you were quick to pull away.

“Huh?! Do any of you know how that feels?!” You were borderline screaming now, and everyone was speaking to you so softly, hands slowly trying to grasp you and it made you want to scream even louder.

“How dare you ‘ccuse me of something like that asshole?” You were beginning to slur your words, the tequila you’d snuck from Warren’s room starting to hit pretty heavily, making your eyes droop and words slur.

“Baby, please-” Karen started, making the move to grasp your arm but you turned and lost your balance, nearly falling but Eddie was quick to catch you, he held on tight and didn’t dare let go until you calmed down or Graham came back. Billy had left minutes ago to find him and Camilla, who had taken a walk so he could freely gush about his new girl without the chances of anyone else hearing.

“Need you to calm down, babe.” Eddie whispered, running a hand up and down your arm for comfort.

“None of you even care!”

Warren shook his head alongside Karen, both of them had squatted in front of you, doing their best to provide what you needed.

“That’s not true.”

“I fucking hate you all!”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t wanna be here anymore!”

And then he said your name.

You froze.

He was gonna leave you, you were so sure of it. You worked so hard to be better for him and it didn’t work.

“No…” You whimpered and you swore you saw Graham break in front of your eyes.

“You can’t- you can’t see this.”

But he didn’t care. He knelt in front of you and Eddie and gathered you into his own arms, completely silent as he carried you to his room and you wanted to disappear into him so badly.

“‘M so sorry…” You slurred, and still he was quiet. You let him undress you and replace your pretty top and flared jeans with his own tee shirt and boxer shorts.

You watched as he changed into a similar outfit as you picked at your nails. “Graham, I-”

He sighed and placed his hands on either sides of your cheeks, placing a firm kiss on your forehead that only made you cry harder. You brought your hands up to grip his wrists, not willing to let go of the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

Graham was silent again as he pulled you into his bed with him, covering you both with the large duvet.

“Not in the slightest.”

That night was really the last night anybody had seen you get drunk like that.

Then, Daisy Jones came along.

And you learned how to keep bad habits a secret.

Tequila and mints in the bathroom, water and cherry cokes with the band. A shot of jameson to fall asleep. Champagne to wake up, brush your teeth. A beer in the shower after lunch, leave the evidence in Warren’s room since there were hundreds of empty ones anyway.

It’s not like Daisy was teaching you one on one, you just started watching her, and you liked the way she got away with it.

No one told Daisy about your issue either, you could hold your own and you had asked them not to, so lips were sealed.

But it took everything in Graham and Billy not to tell her to tread lightly every time they saw the two of you sneak off on your own.

And now here was Graham Dunne, sitting in the driver's seat of the van outside of God knows who’s house, with Camilla in the passenger’s seat and Billy in the back. Moral support.

“Want us to come with you?”

Graham shook his head. “I need to do this alone.”

Billy scoffed, “I’m not gonna let you go in there with our two hot headed alcoholic rage sisters. Cam, you stay here.”

“Nope, you go I go. You two get our girl, I’ll handle Daisy.”

The three bickered a moment but finally settled on their plan. Graham and Camilla would take you, while Karen and Billy took Daisy, since the blonde girl drove.

“Fucking finally.” Karen exasperated as she saw her friends walk into the backyard of the party while trying her hardest to hold you upright.

“Where is Daisy?” Billy spat immediately, making eyes around the party. You had always been like a sister to him, in the way Camilla was to Graham, and he could’ve killed the redheaded girl in that moment.

“Beats me.” Karen said, passing off your deadweight into Graham, who was quickly supported by Billy. Your head lulled onto your boyfriend's shoulder, recognizing him as a source of comfort even in your inebriated state.

It made his soul ache.

“Is Simone here?” Camilla asked.

Karen shook her head, “Was. Split as soon as she and Daisy got into a fight. Offered to take this one” she nodded her head at you “home with her but I figured it’d be best if you guys came.”

Graham shook his head, “You made the right call, thank you.”

“Yeah, well uh, I sure as hell can’t drive. Got drunk as hell before even stepping foot in the backyard, soon as I saw (Y/n) I stepped in and called you guys immediately.”

“Do we need to get Daisy?”

“That’s a fight you sure as hell don’t wanna have. Yelled at me just for taking ‘her best friend’ away from her to get her some water.”

Billy rolled his eyes.

Graham and Billy began making their way out of the party with you slung around their shoulders, and Camilla walking arm in arm with a very drunk Karen who kept tripping over feet.

And suddenly red hair and sparkling eyes were in front of them.

“Ohhh no, what happened to my girl?” She tried to touch your face but Billy pulled you away, ready to say something before Graham spoke up, surprising everyone.

“Your girl, Daisy?!” His voice boomed, no doubt you’d be embarrassed if you were in any way conscious. “This is my girl, our girl.” He gestured to the rest of the group. “And I’d say it’s in your best interest to leave her the hell alone from now on.”

Graham was a mess when he got you home.

Daisy ended up at the house not too long after the rest, explaining she didn’t know the situation, apologizing profusely, informing them all you had been drinking for months. She told them in a sullen voice that you hadn’t been this bad last time she saw her, that she thinks someone must have done it to you.

Graham understood, he did. But he couldn’t look at Daisy. How could she let you out of her sight, to allow someone to do this to you? It made his stomach turn. Billy was next to his brother this time, in the living room, a hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing from time to time, and instead of standing Graham sat with his head in his hands, creating knots in his hair as he ran his fingers through it. Cam and Karen had you in the bathroom, after seeing the panic in Graham’s eyes they decided to take over that part, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for him to see. Warren stayed up, and Eddie didn’t retreat to his room, Daisy paced back and forth outside of the bathroom, biting her nails. Graham could hear it, it was driving him nuts.

“Would it kill you to be quiet for two seconds, Daisy?!” He groaned, running a hand over his red splotchy face.

Everyone knew that Graham was just upset and taking it out on Daisy, the red corvette, which wasn’t exactly fair, but they also knew better than to argue with Graham at that point.

“You know what, Graham?!” Daisy stomped into the living room, planting herself in front of the Dunne brothers with her arms crossed.

Graham didn’t look up.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” Daisy used her thumb and pointer finger to grip his chin and pull his face up to look at her and she immediately felt guilty at his tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

She sighed, and crouched before him.

“I know it’s hard, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to her. But she makes her own decisions, Graham. No one could’ve stopped her.”

Graham nodded, but still wouldn’t look in her direction. “Will you go check on her, please?”

Daisy would later tell the story with a frown on her face, and she’d recall never being that scared for another person before, despite the smile she put on for Graham.

“I didn’t-” She took a breath, “I’d never seen it that bad before, at least not while I was sober. I thought she was going to die.”

Daisy retreated to yours and Graham’s shared room shortly after discovering she couldn’t stomach staying in that bathroom, deciding to make herself useful by getting the bed ready, fluffing the pillows and retrieving some fresh clothes for you to wear to bed, making sure she grabbed ones that smelled like your boyfriend. She dropped the clothes off in the bathroom, and passed along the message to Graham from Karen and Camilla that it was time to take you to bed.

This had been Billy’s job, since before The Six was even The Six, that’s how it went. But things had changed, Graham had grown, and it was his turn.

part two coming soon!

#graham dunne x reader #graham dunne imagine #graham dunne #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones and the six fanfic #warren rojas #eddie roundtree #billy dunne #daisy jones #karen sirko #karen karen #warren rojas x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #billy dunne x reader #simone jackson

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itjazzbicch · 7 months

Text

Reborn

Pairing: Kenshi Takashi x Fem Reader

Summary: Traumatized from all of the horrific sights the reader had seen while defending their timeline and facing Titan Shang Tsung, the reader decided to part ways with her fellow champions and Lui Kang, falling off the grid, but when she is found by her close friend, Kenshi, he offers her a new path in life, at first shutting her down, but his words sticking with her and giving her the motivation to find herself again...

Warnings: Kenshi Tower ending spoilers, The reader deals with some mental health issues, Jax is in this fic (colored purple) slight swearing (but that's about it!) The song used in this fic is listed below!

Word Count: 1.5k

When I was chosen to be a champion, I thought that my life would excel and that I'd achieve things that I couldn't imagine, but as time progressed, I was put to the test. I passed and made it out alive, but I left with scars on my skin and in my mind.

We all had our lives to live. My friends stayed in touch with one another, but I isolated myself and practically fell off the face of the earth. It would be best if my former friends didn't know where I was and what I was doing.

--------

"She's here. I just have this feeling, Briggs."

"Well, I've never met her, so I'll trust your gut on this one-"

Sooner or later, someone was bound to come and find me. Kenshi, being the one to step up, and did not expect to see me in a nightclub, shocked to hear my singing:

"Now it's one more boy and it's one more line

(Holding on for your call)

Taking the pills just to pass the time

(I can never say no)

'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine

(Holding on for your call)

'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine

But maybe not tonight”

"She's a performer?" Briggs saw me on stage, dancing in a skimpy dress, the crowd of the club roaring; disbelief was all over Kenshi's face as he shook his head slowly:

"I never even knew that she could sing."

"It's a different kind of danger And the bells are ringing out And I'm calling for my mother As I pull the pillars down It's a different kind of danger And my feet are spinning around Never knew I was a dancer 'Til Delilah showed me how,"

Nothing was stopping me from singing, this being the one thing that made me feel alive, dancing, and finishing off:

"Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around Too fast for freedom Sometimes it all falls down These chains never leave me I keep dragging them around."

Posing then bowing as the crowd clapped and whistled at me, Kenshi was evident in the crowd, wearing sunglasses instead of that red band, but I knew him when I saw him. When my eyes locked on him, I could feel the tension as his attention was locked on me, too.

I didn't know who the guy with him was, but either way, it was time to get out of there.

"Give it up for our Queen, Y/N!" The DJ had to keep exciting the crowd, just my luck, but he wasn't in charge of this place, so I waved to the crowd again before slipping to the back.

Rushing to grab my stuff and my car keys, I knew Kenshi would try and find a way to me. Hoping security would do good at their job, I slipped out the back and heard from the darkness by my car:

"Since when did you sing?"

"Kenshi," I sighed, rolling my eyes and giving up on avoiding him, "I've always sung. Just never told anyone."

"Ah, well, you're good at it," Stepping out of the darkness with that guy, his tone showed his concern for me, "Just didn't expect to find you in a place like this-"

"Who's the guy?" I was standoff-ish with strangers, but I didn't sense any ill intentions from him as he stepped up and introduced himself:

"Jackson Briggs. Takashi and I now work for the OIA. We hoped to speak with you."

Offering his hand to me, I only stared, cocking my eyebrow at Kenshi, "OIA? What the hell is that?"

"The Outerworld Investigation Agency," Kenshi explained, "I'm sure you can puzzle the pieces together-"

"Yeah, and I decline," I spat quickly, my harshness leaving them silent; I rolled my eyes again as Kenshi only turned his head to Briggs, wanting to talk to me alone.

"Y/N," Now that we were alone, Kenshi wasn't going to leave till he got more answers, showing more concern for me, whispering, "We've all been worrying about you. Johnny, Kung Lao, Raiden, even Lord Lui Kang-"

"As you see, I'm fine," I didn't want to have this conversation, trying to shut it down, "It was nice seeing you, but-"

"Y/N-" More stern in his tone, he held me by the shoulders, trying to read me better, "Even I can see that something's wrong and how you changed so drastically. I know we went through a lot, but-"

"No, buts-" I whispered, my emotions starting to rise, "That stuff mentally screwed me, and I don't want to return to that life."

"Have you forgotten that you are a champion?" His words brought tears to my eyes, and I felt as if a fire was burning under me, a mixture of pressure and deep desires, "We're human, and our minds can be fragile, I get that, but you're strong, whether you believe it or not. The realms need you."

"I haven't forgotten," I whispered, giving false hope before crushing the motivation he tried to give me, "I haven't forgotten the pain that being a 'champion' has put me through. The realms don't need me."

The silence between us was eerie. I had him frozen in disbelief, hugging his stiff body and whispering before I walked away:

"I do appreciate the concern, but we all have different fates. I'm sorry if mine doesn't align with yours."

"Wait-" It was becoming difficult not to snap, but I had a soft spot for Kenshi, stopping and looking as he handed me a card, "Just in case you change your mind."

"Sure," I huffed sarcastically, finally escaping the situation, but it stuck with me.

I spent the next few nights wide awake, lost in thought, questioning my entire life. For some reason, Kenshi's words, "Have you forgotten that you are a champion," replayed in my head. Over and over.

Staring at his business card, I relived everything that I went through as a champion, and the one constant circled my mind. I never gave up. I faced death and overcame it, took down a Titan. The mental conflicts had me shaking.

The life I was living now wasn't meant for me; that was a fact that I could accept. Maybe Kenshi was right.

Laying back, holding that card close, for the first time since I parted ways with everyone, I felt some peace, knowing what I needed to do and what was right.

------------

"Hey, Takashi," It took a few more days to get myself together, but it was worth seeing the expression on Kenshi's face as his partner Jax brought me into his office, "Someone important is here to see you."

It was hard not to laugh at his hung jaw, giggling through my question, "You still want me to work with you, right?"

Kenshi's shocked expression turned into a small, relieved smile, "I'm glad you decided to come."

"We got a lot of work to do," Jax smiled at us, heading out the door and teasing Kenshi, "Make sure she knows how to do things right!"

"That won't be an issue," He chuckled, and when the door closed, I took Kenshi's hand and gave him a tight hug, confusing him for a moment, "The job's not that bad-"

"It's not that. It's just-; Thank you, Kenshi," I whispered. Kenshi realized what I had been feeling, returned my hug, and rubbed my back softly.

"I've been wanting to apologize to you. I knew that all the horrible things we went through were getting to your head, and I didn't do anything-"

Hearing him say that made me want to sob, but I shook it off, holding his head to mine, finally defeating the demons in my mind:

"You don't have to apologize for anything. That was a battle that only I could fight. Don't worry anymore, Kenshi. I finally remembered who I am."

Smiling more, he was happy for me and proud, "You're going to make a great agent, you know."

"From what I heard, you made quite a reputation for yourself here. I'll make sure to be even better," I teased, making us laugh, Kenshi teasing back:

"Did you go visit Johnny before you came here? You're sounding a little too cocky, just like him."

Laughing and shaking my head, I acknowledged, "No, but I need to go visit the guys."

"They'll be over the moon when you do. Just don't let Cage know that you can sing. He'll try to get you into the music business," He smirked, making me laugh, leaning over to his desk and then placing a badge in my hand, "Welcome to the team, Y/N."

Staring at the badge, I felt a true purpose in my life again, clenching it in my fist, being filled with a new kind of pride, my voice alone showing my newfound loyalty to Kenshi and the OIA, "I won't disappoint you and give you my all, Kenshi."

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat fic #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat fluff #mortal kombat oneshot #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x y/n #kenshi takashi #kenshi takashi x reader #kenshi takashi x y/n #kenshi takashi imagine #kenshi takashi fic #kenshi takashi fluff #kenshi takashi oneshot #read and enjoy #Spotify

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squadxx4392 · 4 months

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"Hold Me." Huskerdust fic - 1218 Words

Honestly, when Charlie announced a guest-wide karaoke night, Husk should've known at least part of what was going to happen.

The two had been dating for over a month, now, talking a long time before then.

But when Husk realized Angel was up and getting ready for a song, he couldn't help but be enthralled.

Sure, he'd heard Angel sing, but it was never really a romantic song.

The intro was a few seconds long, but Angel eventually started singing quietly.

"Finally, a new side of me.." Angel started, eyes closed, concentrating on the song he was singing.

If Husk wasn't already drawn in by Angel getting up in front of a few of the guests sitting around in support, he was most certainly enthralled now.

"Turned a new leaf underneath my tree."

Oh.

Angel's voice sounded like honey.

It was breathtaking.

"I now see life's a beautiful dream. Gives me strength, gives me all in a year. Of disease. I have thrived," he continued. "Lucky me."

A realization hit Husk. He'd known Angel was working on something, scribbling mindlessly on papers while they were lounging around in Angel's room after closing.

He remembered catching glimpses of words closer to the beginning before Angel turned the paper away from him, grinning and saying he'd have to wait to see what it was.

And now he knew what Angel had been working on.

And it was so worth the wait.

"Push me, pull me, write my story. Give me my rhythm, my rhyme."

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting at the bar with Husk, Charlie watching like a giddy school-girl and Vaggie was watching him in (poorly) hidden amazement.

"I break my cycles, endless spirals. I just wanna trust what is mine," Angel sang, opening his eyes and glancing at Husk, catching his eye and smiling.

To Husk, Angel looked like an artist excited to share their first song with an audience, the song being so worth the wait and ensuring the guests were drawn in as if he was a siren.

"If the sun's in the sky. If the day follows the night. If the clock's still keeping the time. Then you're on my mind," Angel sang, closing his eyes again.

Husk felt his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat.

Angel was made to be performing, but not in the way he had been.

This. This is what Angel should have done from the beginning.

Husk could feel his expression softening as he leaned against the bar, arms crossed.

Everyone in the hotel was listening with rapt attention, and where there would have normally been scattered claps and whistles for other participants, everyone was silent.

Even Nifty had taken from chasing a roach with her needle to dropping it all and sitting at the foot of the sofa in the parlor with the other residents.

"The silence that we share. My heart was ill prepared. I oversimplified," Angel continued, opening his eyes again and scanning around at everyone. "When it was do or die."

Angel looked at Husk again, singing as he looked deep into his eyes.

"Kiss me, hold me, that feeling is holy. Nobody's loved me like you." Angel extended an arm out at him and Husk blew him a soft kiss, Angel pretending to catch it and hold it close to his chest. "Ah, life moves too fast, to get stuck in the past. But I do, I do."

Angel's voice was powerful. Yet it was so soft.

Husk didn't know how he'd been living without the soft singing Angel was doing at the moment. He'd love to be able to listen to this for eternity.

Although, that wouldn't be enough time, either.

"I think I take more than I give. Kinda shit but it’s how I live," he sang, the speed getting faster than the slow pace it started with.

Husk felt a pang of sadness run through his chest.

Knowing what he did about Angel, it hurt that Angel thought of himself like that.

"Be stuck 'til my conscience has outgrown me. I'm dumb enough to do the math. 'Cause life comes, life will pass."

If it weren't for Alastor and Lucifer coming back bickering, Husk would have been put in a trance.

But the looks they started receiving from Charlie because of their noise made them stop and pay attention to what was happening.

They quietly found a place to sit down and Husk glared at them before turning his attention back to Angel.

He couldn't help but think of how Angel was a perfect name for the man in front of him.

"So I try not to get attached. Don't know what story I'm supposed to buy, if we see God's face when we look in our eyes." The entire hotel seemed to be still, not a soul in there barely breathing.

"If your life will start in the moment you die, or if it's all worth the tears we cry," Angel continued. He'd closed his eyes again, and he looked like the most beautiful person to grace anywhere in Husk's eyes.

Husk was smiling softly, and he could tell his pupils were probably extremely dilated.

"Still live life like I'm on a mission, every damn day is all about ambition," he sang, face still smiling as he sang but his face visibly sadder, or at least that Husk noticed.

"Scared I'll turn out to be just a normal guy. Wonder why I'm only grateful when I'm high." Husk knew what he meant. Used to, Angel would be high any moment you'd see him, except for when he slept in the early hours of the morning.

They were still finding his old stashes anywhere they looked, but Angel was always surprised when he'd be confronted.

He'd been sober for a long time now, so apparently he'd forgotten all about his older stashes of drugs he'd been taking.

"You make a choice and don't look back. What's strong enough will stay intact. There's more to life than what is fact," he sang, seeming a little less sad, a lot more vibrant than he had been for a bit.

"The things we love can never last, it hurts too much, that's why I laugh, like sand slips through an hourglass."

"I'll hold onto the life I craft, so one day I can give it back," he sang, ending the song as the outro to it played and he stepped away from the microphone as he flashed a smile to the guests.

An uproar of cheer came from the audience as Angel stepped down for the next person to go, and he sat down at the bar across from where Husk was standing.

"So, you enjoy the song?" Angel asked, gratefully accepting the drink Husk made for him without asking.

"It was great, Angel," Husk said, taking a sip from his bottle.

Angel smiles, leaning on his hand.

"Wanna leave? Go lounge around up in one of our rooms for the rest of the night? I've got work, so I can't really stay up much longer," Angel asked, downing the rest of his drink and standing up.

"Yeah, let me close up and I'll be right up," Husk said, smiling as Angel got up and let Charlie know he was going to bed.

#lgbtq #gay #pansexual #huskerdust #husker hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust x husk #hazbin hotel #husk is pansexual #canon #angel dust is gay #val sucks fr fr #SoundCloud

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letitias-wife · 1 year

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「Save Me」

Chapter 1: Taking You Home

Shuri x Reader

Warnings: Language (kinda), drunk driving (sorta)

A/n: I originally posted this on AO3 and reposted it onto Wattpad and thought I’d post it here to reach another audience.

Summary: Y/n and Shuri broke up 2 years ago after a huge fight but now that the princess has lost everyone, she has to turn to her for support before she does something reckless.

I flopped back onto my twin-size bed, tears soaking my pillow. He was gone. T'Challa was really gone.

"I can't imagine how Nakia and Shuri must be feeling." The moment her name left my lips, my phone rang. I finally look at the caller ID >Princess

I just lay there eyeing the name. She's not really calling me...I'm dreaming.

>Hello?

>Hey, Y/n...I uh- I'm sure you've heard the news about-I could hear Shuri swallow over the phone >About my brother's passing.

>I have...how are you?

>Y/n.Shuri's cry got louder as she called out for me >I need you

>What?

>I can't do this- I need you here.

>Shuri.My stomach churned >I'm not sure if I can help you. I've got school and work-

>Please!She shrieked, >My-My mother is ill, My brother is gone. I have no one.

I sat up from my bed and pulled a suitcase from under my bed, >Okay, just-...just send a Talon to the roof tonight, and I'll come to you.

Shuri's sniffles and gasps suddenly became silent, >I'm sort of already here.

>WHAT?I laughed through my tears. I shoved a few changes of clothes in my bag, >You should've texted me, Princess.

I can hear her smile on the other side of the line. I swing my suitcase over my back and snuck out of the window, and scaled my apartment til I reached the sealed-off roof. I looked to the sky, >Where are you?

I felt slim hands wrap around my waist, "Behind you."

I gasped as she pulled me closer to her, resting her chin on my head. I wanted to push her away because the sudden affection after our last fight felt weird. We agreed to take a break. To just be friends. But I couldn't move; I wanted to be held. The last two years without her touch were the loneliest I'd felt in forever.

Shuri turned me around and felt her way up to my neck, "Y/n."

Her eyes were glossy, not just from crying. Was she high? Her skin smelt like alcohol. "You're drunk."

Shuri softly pressed her lips on my neck, "Just a little. I just need to relax."

"You can relax without this, without me. Remember?" I gently put her arms back to her side and sat down my suitcase, "Did you only come here because you're drunk?"

"I'm not- that drunk. I was able to fly here." The intoxicated princess leaned back and pointed to the jet waiting silently above us

"You could fly the Talon with your eyes closed." I gently slapped her cheek. She laughed at my barely feelable slap and grabbed my hand, "Now Y/n, you know you can't go around slapping royalty like that."

Shuri pushed me backward into the door to the roof that'd been locked and sunk her teeth into my neck. I let out a small whimper and brought her closer to me, "Shuri."

"Yes?" She lifted me up and wrapped my legs around her waist. "You must've missed me if-"

"Put me down." I held back a moan while I mustered up the courage to speak to her firmly, "This isn't right. You're grieving, and you're drunk. We can't do this."

Shuri set me down and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Let's just get you home and we'll pretend this didn't happen." I picked up my suitcase while Shuri lowered the Talon. I helped Shuri inside and sat in the pilot's seat, "Just relax I'll get us home."

Shuri sprawled out on the floor and gave me a sad thumbs up.

I should've just stayed in my apartment. Now look at me. Taking my drunk, depressed ex-girlfriend to another country.

I look back at the Wakandan. She was curled up on the glass floor of the jet asleep. I couldn't help but frown at the sad sight of my friend. Shuri's been through so much, she lost her father and brother. Her mother's suffering and I'm sure Shuri's been burying herself in her work so she doesn't have time to think about it.

"She needs you Y/n." I mumble to myself.

#Shuri #letitia wright shuri #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #princess shuri #mcu shuri #queen shuri #second chance romance #shuri angst #shuri fluff #t'challa #black panther 2 spoilers #black panther x reader

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icedmetaltea · 2 months

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Welp I just found out I have $700 I have to pay before May 11 for school bc apparently I withdrew after the refund date. I've done that before and never had a fee so idk wtf happened but I made some calls and they said since it wasn't the end of the semester it wasn't even the full amount so it'd probably be higher...

I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do. This is already after I got denied for ebt twice since I can't work so not only do I have to worry about feeding myself but now I have to worry about going into debt

I can't even begin trying to get on ssi til I can get set up with a doctor and even then I don't know if I'll be eligible bc mental illnesses from what I hear aren't usually "disabled" enough and even if I am it could take months for it to process- if it's even accepted

(tw for suicidal thought stuff)

Suicide is reaaaaaaally starting to feel like a viable option. I've been telling myself it's a permanent solution for a temporary problem but like... my problems aren't temporary. They just keep coming and they just keep getting bigger. Even if they pass, what do I have to live for? All my dreams have fallen through the cracks.

I would never be able to finish college (I'm never signing up for another college class so they can fuck me over again, that's for sure) and even if I did I have no real passions

I'm not strong or smart or attractive or talented. I'm just a burden, a waste of space, someone that will always rely on others... and my parents will die one day, they won't be able to pay for the apartment anymore, I'll go homeless (like maybe my sister could take me in but even she's on ebt these days, the economy is so fucked)

It's not like the world is going to get better anytime soon anyway... it's this or wait for climate change and/or capitalism to kill me off. My dad died of a heart attack mainly due to the stress of work, even if I somehow got my anxiety under control enough to work I'd probably die the same way. What's the point? To be a minimum wage slave the rest of my life? When half the population of my country hates me for being poor? Do you even know how many people don't even think anxiety is real???

Well the feeling of slowly being strangled almost every fucking is very fucking real to me, feeling my ribs clamp down on me, a glass pane in front of my eyes whenever I dissociate, it's gotten to the point where half the time these past few weeks I don't even feel like my body is my own. I talk and it feels distant and foreign.

So yea... rn I'm just trying to hold onto small things. Reading a couple nice books while I can. Listening to nice music while I can. Hanging out with my friends while I can. Because I think soon I may have to leave for good

#tw suicide #suicidal thoughts #irl stuff #vent

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 9 months

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heorte til heorte: ch. 3 — cnawan (to know)

summary: alethia offers ecbert her terms. athelstan falls ill. when he recovers, fate strikes alethia down instead.

warnings: cw for pregnancy related stuff and illness. also angst. again.

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world

series masterlist | general masterlist

Alethia

She looked from Ecbert to Athelstan. He had prepared her for this, that the day would come where Ecbert would want a return from his investment. And one month after her arrival, she could express herself well enough for Ecbert to pull her to the table of reckoning.

A scroll was laid out in front of her, one of Ancient Roman Gods.

“Can you name them?” Ecbert asked her. The king was the only other person outside of Athelstan who did not speak with her like a child.

“I can.” Alethia replied. The king made a gesture for her to begin. Alethia only shook her head.

“Are you refusing?” Ecbert asked.

“No, but I will not give you all this knowledge for nothing.”

“Is it gold you want?”

“You still think me an idiot?” Alethia continued. “Come on.”

“Name your terms.” Ecbert replied with narrowed eyes.

“A sword. The right to carry it. Autonomy, not that of an Anglo-Saxon woman, but that of a man.”

Ecbert laughed, and next to her, Athelstan tensed. “Some would call that blasphemy.”

“I am not Anglo-Saxon. There is your explanation.”

“Done. You will have autonomy.” Ecbert replied. “Though I do wonder where you learned a word you have no use for.”

“I wish to train in the courtyard, and to have food and shelter provided in this villa. Athelstan has similar intellectual abilities, and I want to work and be provided for as such.”

“Athelstan has been much more useful to me than you.” Ecbert said.

“And you consider him your equal, at least when it comes to gender.” Alethia replied bitterly. She was lucky to have him as her teacher. He had taught her all the terms she needed to win this argument. “You do not know what I do.”

“Done and done.” Ecbert finally agreed. “You overreach.”

“I will continue to do so. You have given me the tools to survive outside your villa. Let me return the favor you gave me instead of making me leave.” Alethia shot back. For a moment, she looked to Athelstan for reassurance, who only nodded with a small smile. “I am a healer. I must admit that I snooped around in your monk’s storages. They are shit. I can do far more than that. In return, there is one thing of utmost importance.”

“You insult my monks and their skills, and yet you wish to ask for more.” Ecbert replied nasally.

“God, King Ecbert, please get off your high horse.” Alethia sighed. Ecbert raised a brow at the unfamiliar phrase, but she ignored him. Her heart beat in her chest, and she wished that Athelstan would say something to give her strength, or courage.

“I am with child.” Alethia confessed. There was a pregnant pause in the room, Ecbert looking to Athelstan, no doubt to see if he had known.

“Interesting.” He commented dryly, so arrogantly that Alethia wanted to strangle him. This was about her livelyhood, and he did not give a singular flying fuck.

“I was married. The child is not one born out of wedlock.”

“And even if it was, you would make sure that that would not matter.” Ecbert noted, his voice now dripping with arrogance. He was so proud of himself for thinking Alethia predictive that it almost made her laugh.

“My child will be seen as a trueborn one.” Alethia continued anyway. “I will decide if they shall be christened, and if the child is a girl, she will be granted the same autonomy as me. My child will enjoy the same safety as me.”

“And in return?” Ecbert asked.

“I will pass on my education to them.” Alethia replied.

“That is not enough.” Ecbert said. Alethia thought for a moment. She knew what he wanted. Safety, security that she would keep her word. There was one thing Ecbert meant for her to put on the table.

“The child will be a ward of the crown of Wessex.” Alethia blurted out, offering up her own baby. Next to her, Athelstan tensed. Ecbert’s eyes glinted with amusement, and Alethia knew the deal was closed.

“What do I want of your child?”

“A child with such knowledge? You know what you want from them.” Alethia replied. “Isn’t that all you want?”

“Great men are those in pursuit of power.” Ecbert drawled again.

Alethia stood, holding out her hand. “Done?”

“Done.” Ecbert said, taking it. Alethia shook his firmly, squeezing too tightly for just a second. Next to her, Athelstan had balled his hands into fists. Alethia stayed where she was, watching Ecbert turn his back and close the door of the library behind him to leave her and Athelstan to their lessons.

She steadied herself on the wooden surface of the table.

“What did you do?” Athelstan asked.

“I saved my child.” Alethia replied. “Now, what of our lessons?”

“You are cold.”

“Calculating. Cold is what men like Ecbert use to insult women like me.” Alethia said quietly. “I did this because I know that I can save my child.”

“Can you?” Athelstan asked.

“You lived amongst the Vikings, did you not?” Alethia countered, and he nodded. “There, I have a chance to be safe with my child. There, my skill at arms may count for something.”

“How?”

“Teach me their language. I know yours now. Instruct me in theirs, and when the Northmen return, help me go with them.”

“I’d rather you stay here.” Athelstan mumbled quietly.

“Why?”

Athelstan did not reply. Alethia wrung her hands together, sitting down on the tabletop and looking at Athelstan.

“Will you go North again if you get the chance?” she asked finally.

“I don’t know.”

“Would you, for me?” Alethia prodded carefully. It was too far, and they both knew it. Athelstan had no reason to go with her. Alethia had no reason to ask.

“Not for a stranger. I would go for Alethia Stahl, if I knew who she was.” Athelstan said.

“I told you already.”

“You told me everything and nothing at all.” Athelstan argued. “I will not force you, for that would be like forcing the sun not to rise in the morning sky. Yet, the sun can kill and she can nourish. It all comes down to the man beneath her, and whether he can understand her.”

Alethia took a breath, and it felt like the first in months. Athelstan cared, she understood with a sudden warmth that made her feel a little less angry.

“I am not from anywhere here. I am… from a place that is unreachable. It is beautiful and terrible, and it is my home. I have been parted from it for years now. Back then, I never understood that that place was my home. I do now.” Alethia began.

“I know.” Athelstan said, and Alethia understood it was the truth.

“I was taken from that place by forces I could not understand. The place I went was… more brutal. Cold. It was so cold, Athelstan, you would not believe it. I fought in a war that was pointless, and then one that saved humanity. But that was pointless too, because I lost him . I married Jon the day before the battle. I did not know I’d be with child. We were… we were so careful except for once and now I am… well, you know. His sister threatened me into keeping it, so I did. I thought I’d stay in Winterfell- I thought I’d be able to raise my child there. But here I am, pregnant and with only one friend.” she said quickly.

“Who?” Athelstan asked.

“You.” Alethia replied. “We are friends, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I think we are.” Athelstan said slowly. “But you just told me what happened to you, not who you are. What do you love, Alethia?”

“The water. I like to swim.” she said, perhaps too quickly, because Athelstan gave her a small smile. Alethia felt her face grow warm, and she looked at her hands, neatly collected in her lap.

“I like to sit in the sun sometimes. Not for too long, just for a little while. I like sparring with my friends. Not for war, but for fun. To get the energy out, you know? I prefer cats over dogs, but wolves over cats. I have two tattoos!” she said, quickly pulling back the sleeve of her dress to reveal the direwolf tattoo above her elbow. Athelstan examined it in awe, but as she made to show him the one on her leg, he demonstratively looked away.

“How respectful.” Alethia teased.

“No, uh, just very celibate.” Athelstan stuttered. Alethia snorted, then, she grew more serious.

“Can you fight, Athelstan?” she asked.

“Yes. With axes.”

“Will you spar with me? Not in the courtyard, outside the villa. Perhaps we can go to the woods.” Alethia asked.

“There are guards, you know?” Athelstan reminded. Alethia leaned down, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I am a soldier, and a ranger. Trust me, I know just how good King Ecbert’s guards are.”

“Worrying.” Athelstan commented.

Alethia pushed herself off the table, and stood in front of him, holding out her hand. “Yes or no?”

“Fine.” Athelstan agreed.

And indeed, Alethia had little difficulty to slip past guards, taking with her a sword and two small axes. Athelstan nervously looked around, but followed her regardless. Outside of the villa, he began to smile.

Alethia twirled the guard’s sword in her hand, testing out the somewhat terrible balance. Across from the little clearing Athelstan had pointed out to her, he tried the axes.

“Ready?” Alethia asked.

“We’ll see.” Athelstan simply replied, stepping closer. Alethia swung, and there was a quick exchange of blows, Athelstan parrying her swings as best he could. Alethia stepped backward, observing him.

“You normally fight with a shield.” she said.

“They don’t store viking shields in the villa.” Athelstan replied. “This’ll do.”

“Then keep your bad hand up. Make the second axe your defense, not your attack.”

“I thought this was for fun?” Athelstan asked, and Alethia stepped forward, trying a few swings.

“Thought I’d help you stay alive a bit longer.” Alethia replied. She parried two of his blows, stepping out under the third, and held the blade to his throat. Athelstan raised his hands.

“Let’s go again.” Athelstan said, eyes set onto her sword with determination. Alethia noticed that it had begun to rain (again), but she nodded.

Three rounds later, and the ground had turned into a muddy slide. Athelstan was starting to get warmed up, his axes becoming a bigger and bigger pest to Alethia. To her surprise, he swiped at her feet in the fourth round, trying to kick them out under her.

Alethia stumbled backwards, surprised. The mud was making her slip, and before she could go down in defeat, she grabbed Athelstan by the collar. He let out a surprised shout, but went down with her.

On the ground, his hands stopped him from colliding with Alethia next to her shoulders, his face mere centimeters from hers.

Alethia could read the surprise written in his features, and smirked, legs wrapping around his waist, flipping Athelstan into the mud until he was under her. Quickly, she grabbed her sword, and pointed it at his throat again.

“Yield?”

“Fine, you win.” Athelstan replied, half-rolling his eyes. Alethia got up, relieving the pressure from his stomach. Athelstan stayed in the mud for a moment, closing his eyes. His face was tense.

“Are you hurt?” she asked. Athelstan shook his head, getting up.

“Just cold.”

It sounded like a lie, and that worried Alethia.

Athelstan

He was alone again, back in the monastery in Lindisfarne. The storm outside made waves crash against the coast, lightning illuminating his bedchamber. Athelstan stood, making his way to the common room.

There, his brothers were huddled in a circle, praying. Father Cuthbert looked up as he entered, staring at Athelstan with accusing eyes.

“You have forsaken your vow, Brother Athelstan. What have you done?” he spat. “You have turned away from us, and condemned us. Judgement is upon us all!”

Athelstan wanted to turn away, to run from Father Cuthbert and his dead brothers, but the doorway was blocked by a hulking figure clad in furs.

The eyemakeup told him it was Floki, the hair Rollo, the shield Lagertha - but the eyes, those were Ragnar’s.

“Leave me alone.” he told the Norseman. The creature did not respond, his mouth splitting into a cruel grin. That was Ecbert’s.

The Viking raised his sword above his head, ready to bring it down like an executioner. Athelstan closed his eyes, unable to move. He was going to die.

But the killing blow never came. When Athelstan opened his eyes, a monstrous wolf fought with the Viking.

Fenrir, Athelstan thought distantly. That is Fenrir. This is Ragnarök. He shuddered as he thought of the end of the world.

Which godly father would judge him, a traveler?

The wolf consumed everything around him, and Athelstan waited for it to consume him too, but the pain never came. Just as the sword had never cut him, the wolf never bit. Instead, it sat back on its haunches, and stared at Athelstan.

Athelstan noticed Fenrir’s eyes were red. Demonic.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” Athelstan whispered. Around him, the melody of an unfamiliar song filled the air, and Athelstan turned towards the door again. He slipped outside without a problem this time. He took the steps down the coast, until he stood on the beach.

Athelstan was afraid of the ocean. The melody grew louder, and he took a step, and then another, until the cold water was just about to touch his skin. He looked down, at the scars on his feet.

“Why are you afraid?”

Athelstan turned, looking at Alethia.

“The ocean makes me afraid.” he said. “It is so… endless.”

“Aren’t we all?” Alethia whispered. She offered her hand, and Athelstan took it, letting her pull him towards the water. It was not cold.

Alethia let herself fall backwards into the waves, diving into the water, and Athelstan followed. There was no need to come up for air. Under the water, he could suddenly open his eyes.

Alethia was right in front of him. Her hair floated around her like a halo, and still, the melody continued. She smiled, pulling him towards her again. There was no need for words. Her white nightgown billowed out around her, hiding her legs as she swam past him.

Still, Athelstan felt himself blush.

She sunk lower and lower, and Athelstan wanted to follow. But Father Cuthbert’s words echoed in his mind, and immediately, his throat tightened and his lungs were empty.

Athelstan swam to the water’s surface, where it was cold. The melody was still there, but Alethia was nowhere to be seen.

He took another deep breath, looking for the melody.

When he opened his eyes, it was still there. Athelstan felt his muscles tighten uncomfortably as he turned, trying to remember where he was. Foggily, he recalled that he had caught a cold after staying in the rain too long. After that, there was not much, only that he had stayed in bed and had some young monk watch over him.

The monk was gone now, replaced by Alethia, who was still humming. She was half-turned away, the scar not visible on this side of her face. It wouldn’t have made her any less beautiful.

Athelstan pushed away the thought. He tried to remember his dream. He knew that she had been in it, too. God, what was going on?

He focused on her hair, a blond so dark that it was almost brown. She braided it a little like Lagertha, only less extravagant. Some of it fell down her back, and Athelstan thought for a moment that he would like to brush it.

It was almost unbearably shameful that he remembered precisely how she smelt - of fresh linen and the sea, and perhaps something medicinal beneath that. He knew how that smell came about because he knew she had a strange obsession with bathing, one that she observed almost every day - even worse than the vikings.

Athelstan knew that she preferred lavender soap, and he had smelt that, too. It was too easy to be close to her when he spent so much time sitting next to Alethia and teaching her how to speak.

And, God, he wished he did not know that her eyes were green like the leaves of an apple tree in the orchards. Athelstan wondered if her lips would taste like lavender or apples, too.

No. He did not. He could not. He turned, and the sound made Alethia pause.

“You’re awake.” she chirped. She turned, and from where he was lying, Athelstan could see the small bump beginning to protrude her dress. It was a good reminder of who she was.

“Yes. The song…” he began.

“Oh, you heard me. Thank God I wasn’t singing.” Alethia laughed nervously, grabbing something from a place he could not see.

“What is the song… what is it called? What is it about?”

“It’s just some old love song. ‘Wicked games’ or something.” Alethia shrugged. “My friend liked that type of music, and I just had it playing again and again in my head.”

“Can you translate the lyrics?” Athelstan asked, and Alethia smiled. She sat down on the side of the cot, the mattress dipping under her weight. Athelstan tried to move away without her noticing, but of course, she did. Her green eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Athelstan could see the hurt in her eyes, and he wanted to take it back.

He needed to preserve his dignity. The state he was in… the fever…

“A lot of it is just ‘What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way’. Around that lyric.” Alethia told him. “But the song itself begins with ‘the world was on fire, and no one could save me but you.’ I guess I like that part.”

“Waiting for a saviour?” Athelstan asked.

“Not in the story way.” Alethia replied.

“In what way?” Athelstan continued. He needed to know. Just in case something happened to her.

“Want someone to take care of me.” Alethia muttered under her breath. Then, she helped him sit. “Here, I made you some tea. Sweetened it so the taste will be alright.”

Athelstan took a sip, tears immediately pooling in his eyes as he swallowed. “Oh God.” he muttered.

“Too spicy? I can add milk, but that’ll reduce the effect.” Alethia replied.

“Why would you burn my tongue like that?” Athelstan sighed. Alethia stood, quickly grabbing something before she returned.

“You’re congested. Heard you struggle to breathe in your sleep, and the spice will make your nose run, but it might help with the symptoms.” Alethia explained, handing him a cup of milk. “There, kiss to make it better.”

She was joking, Athelstan reminded himself, and he was a monk.

Had been once, at least.

“Are you alright?” Alethia asked worriedly, and Athelstan was quick to nod.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of your lessons.” he teased.

.*.*.*.

A day later, he was able to crawl from the cot to get dressed, finally not shivering whenever a gust of wind hit him. Athelstan went to the library first, searching for the last few scrolls he’d transcribed, before he waited for Alethia to arrive.

Usually, she was overly punctual, joining him long before the lessons already began, but today, an empty seat next to Athelstan and a plain piece of parchment told him that she was late.

Athelstan felt nervous at the thought. He picked at his skin, pulling it up for a moment.

Where was she?

He smoothed out the parchment, straightening out the place the chair stood and got up, wandering around the library. By now, Alethia was truly late.

He waited. He waited until the church bells tolled and it was eleven in the morning. Now, Alethia was an hour late.

Athelstan’s feet carried him to the roman bath first. They hurt, the scars almost itching. It was not a real sensation, but telling himself that did not make it any better.

The roman bath was empty, and as Athelstan walked into the courtyard, all he saw were the guards and the farmers, but not Alethia. It was a beuatiful day, the sun shining brightly and Athelstan was reminded that Alethia loved the sun.

It was easy to imagine her standing there, in the middle of the courtyard, green eyes closed as she turned her face to the light and held her palms out with that small, abashed smile on her face.

And yet, her phantom shadow made him worry.

Athelstan rushed back inside, practically running through the villa. Alethia was nowhere to be found.

Had she overslept? Perhaps she had caught his fever, and was still in bed. The monks had told him that Alethia had practically spent all of her waking hours looking after him and scolding them for not treating his fever properly. Yes, it was possible that she had come down with it.

He’d never been in her bedchamber. It was not right of him to go there, to invade her space.

Athelstan walked the long corridor towards it anyway, pausing at her door to knock. When he did, there was no response.

“Alethia?” He asked. “Are you well?”

There was a sound of rushed movement from within, and Athelstan sighed with relief.

“You’re late, you know?” He teased lightly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Alethia replied from within, her voice sounding thick. There were a few fast steps, and the door opened, Alethia’s face appearing on the other side.

Her skin was blotchy, as if she had spent the entire night crying, eyes swollen and puffy.

“Are you alright?” Athelstan asked. Alethia nodded quickly, turning away from him and disappearing back into the room. The door swung open, and Athelstan allowed himself to lean onto the doorframe.

The room looked entirely as he had imagined it would. Alethia had tossed her bedsheets around messily, barely covering the mattress and leaving her cot unmade. In her window, she’d hung dried flowers, her sword leaning against the foot of the bed. There was a small table, covered in scraps of parchment, a vase of flowers pushed into one corner, a small candle into the other.

What Athelstan had not expected is for the room to smell of blood. He paused, watching as Alethia limped towards her trunk and pulled out fresh sheets, carelessly throwing them onto the cot.

Athelstan made his decision. He crossed the doorstep, and entered her room. Alethia turned, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him.

“What is going on?” Athelstan asked. Her lip quivered, and she shook her head, balls of her hands digging into her eyes. Alethia turned herself away from him in an act of self-preservation that he understood only too well.

He touched her shoulder, gently taking her hand. Alethia pulled away, but he saw the speck of blood on her sleeve anyway.

“Alethia what did you…?” He began. When she walked away from him, a trail of blood followed her. Athelstan felt sick, suddenly.

Image be damned, he closed the door of her room, shutting the world out before he turned back to Alethia. She was sitting on her cot, staring at the wall opposite of her somewhat lethargically. Athelstan could not look away from the red stain on her sleeve.

He knew Alethia had been covered in blood before. She was a soldier, she had fought. Still, that had never seemed quite real to him. Not when he knew who she was.

A girl that loved the sun should not be touched by violence.

“I’m sorry.” Athelstan said, because he did not know what else to say. On the wooden floor, blood began to dry into the planks.

“Oh, stop saying that. You don’t even know what you are saying when you do.” Alethia whispered. She was trying to sound mean, but it was not working. Athelstan knew he had to make a choice, right here.

He could continue to be frozen to the ground and stare, eventually leaving Alethia to resolve her pain by herself. Or, he could show her the same compassion she had when she’d barely known him.

Athelstan wanted to be someone important to her. He crossed the distance, taking Alethia’s hands. This time, she let him. Athelstan noticed the dried blood that was crusted under her fingernails, but he said nothing.

Then, he noticed that the basin of water at the head of her bed was red too, a small pile of pinkish fabric piled up next to it. The same dark-stained fabric peeked out under the haphazardly thrown sheets on her cot.

Athelstan leaned over the edge of the cot, carefully lifting the clean linen and old sheets up. His heart dropped as he pulled the sheets away.

Alethia’s mattress was stained a dark red, blood spreading out from the center.

“What…? Alethia, are you hurt?” He asked, turning back to her, trying to search for any visible injuries.

She did not reply. Instead, Alethia stood and hugged him. Her hands wrapped around him, but she was trying to hold on, not to hold. She was shaking like a leaf, and, when Athelstan returned the hug, she sobbed.

Athelstan did not ask. He did not apologize. He waited.

The sobs only got worse, and Athelstan, hesitantly, let his hand touch the back of her head, cradling it gently. He had seen Ragnar, Floki, Lagertha, even Rollo, do it with the people they loved. It was the right thing to do, right?

He wished he knew. This was one of the things the monastery had not been able to teach him.

When Alethia cried even more, he thought he’d done something wrong. Instead, Alethia hid her face in his chest. She was warm, like always, but Alethia did not smelt like lavender soap today.

She smelt like blood.

The injury was hers. How was she still standing after so much bloodloss?

“You have to tell me where you are hurt. I am afraid you’ll die.” Athelstan whispered.

“I lost it.” Alethia replied. She was still holding onto him.

“I don’t understand.” Athelstan said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

Alethia let go of him, and Athelstan immediately felt guilty. Sadness for her constricted his throat, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to see her smile again. Why did he want to see her smile?

Slowly, Alethia pulled up her dress to her knees. Athelstan looked away.

“Didn’t have time to clean all of it.” Alethia said. “I’m sorry. I was going to come to the lessons, but I… I don’t know why this- it hurts my soul more than my body.”

Athelstan looked, then. Her legs were covered in blood. It ran down her calves, and from time to time, some of it would drip on the ground. What injury hurt the soul more than the body?

This… it looked excruciating.

And then, Athelstan remembered something.

Once, when he was still very little, his mother had spent three days in the straw, barely moving. He’d helped get rid of it afterwards, and noticed how red it had turned under her. Not soon after, his father had sent him to the monastery.

His mother had never said goodbye. She hadn’t been able to, his father explained.

Lagertha had acted like that once, for a little while. She’d lost her son, and Alethia had lost- she’d lost-

Athelstan tried to breathe.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, and God, he wished he knew what to say. “Alethia, I am… I wish I knew what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

They sat in silence, shoulders barely touching. Alethia was still crying silently.

When the bells tolled for midday, Athelstan stood, his joints cracking. Another hour had passed, and he knew that today, there would be no lessons. He was glad that he’d been forced to notice what had happened to her.

Athelstan did not say anything as he collected her dirty linens, piling them in one corner of the room. He left quietly, returning with fresh water to clean the blood off of her floor. Alethia watched him with tired eyes.

When Athelstan found her bloodied shift, the one she’d presumably changed out of quickly to hide what had happened, his heart broke for Alethia. Both the sleeves and the skirt were still drenched in red, and the smell of death clung to the garment. Alethia blinked as Athelstan tossed it to the dirty sheets.

“Burn it, please.” She whispered. He nodded. When all of it was done, the only reminder of what had happened was Alethia. The blood was still clinging to her ankles, her fingertips, her legs. Athelstan helped her up from the cot.

“What is it?” She asked. “Don’t make me eat now. I cannot face the rest of them.”

“You will not.” Athelstan promised. He helped her out of her room, and they slipped out of the villa quietly. The sun still shone, spring beginning to make itself known in Wessex.

In a few months, the Northmen would return to raid. Athelstan still had time to prepare Alethia, and himself.

Alethia still struggled to walk, so Athelstan hoisted her arm over his shoulder, taking her to the small creek where the washerwoman scrubbed the linens and the wool. They were all eating now, taking their break.

Still, Athelstan found a more secluded area, hidden by trees and tall grass, where he set Alethia down. He turned away, sitting on the rocks around the creek but looking away from the water.

“Thank you.” Alethia said, and from behind him, Athelstan heard water splashing. He pushed the soap towards her blindly, preparing the towel so that Alethia would not have to think about it.

“Athelstan?”

“Yes?” He asked. There were a few beats of silence, and Athelstan waited for them to pass as they stretched into eternity, making his heart beat painfully quickly. Was she alright?

“Do you think I am ugly?”

Alethia sounded earnest. There was no teasing, no light tone, but the sadness from before had disappeared a little.

“Who called you ugly?” Athelstan asked. He knew what the guards whispered. He had heard Prince Aethelwulf talk down on Alethia. They all looked down on her scar, her roughness. She was not pious, not soft - at least, that was what they thought.

Athelstan was almost proud that he had found out about her gentleness, one that was so similar to that of Lagertha or Helga.

“Am I?” Alethia asked again.

“No, I don’t think so.”

She laughed softly. Athelstan wished that he could wake up to that sound.

No. No, he was just letting the events of the day getting to his head. Besides, he was barely healthy again.

“Turn around.” Alethia said, and Athelstan almost choked on his spit.

“Don’t worry.” She laughed. “I’m still in the water. You won’t see anything. Not here to make you stray from the righteous path.”

You already have, he thought. Still, slowly and cautiously, he turned. Alethia had rested her head on her hands, blue ink coloring the space above her right elbow.

“Thank you.” She said. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me, Athelstan. I am sure you have saved me.”

Athelstan felt his cheeks grow warm under her praise.

“Let me help you.” He said, nodding to the tangled knots in her hair. Alethia raised a brow, but she nodded, turning her back to him. Athelstan touched her cautiously, as if she was fragile. He knew she was not, but he thought that, in that moment, she would appreciate it.

It was almost impossible to detangle the knots in her hair, but Athelstan had time, and water. However cold it was, Alethia had not yet begun to chatter, so he worked with gentleness opposed to efficiency, combing out her hair until it fell down her back. Alethia dipped under the surface of the water, presenting her hair to him for soap.

He touched it again, and still, the action felt so right and so utterly depraved at the same time that Athelstan wanted to disappear. The foam hid her hair, and Athelstan carefully swiped water over it until her hair was clean again.

“Thank you.” Alethia repeated, and Athelstan thought that he wanted to get used to that phrase from her.

In the villa, Alethia disappeared into her room again, but only after Athelstan had made her assure him of the fact that she was alright. Alethia had promised.

He barely made it out of the corridor before King Ecbert turned the corner, stopping Athelstan with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“How interesting,” the king began. “That you should make your student your companion, Athelstan.”

“She is nothing to me.”

“Nothing?” Ecbert asked, his features unbelieving. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing but a friend.” Athelstan replied.

“In England, men and women do not intermingle like that.” Ecbert said. “I understand. Those who do not know of the Norse culture you absorbed may not. Remember that.”

“Of course.” Athelstan said. “Apologies, my king.”

“No worries. There was something else I wanted to ask you about…” Ecbert began, and Athelstan followed the king with a sigh. He only hoped that Alethia would feel better soon.

#alestan #heorte til heorte #vikings fanfic #athelstan #alethia #alethia x athelstan #alethia stahl #ecbert #vikings #history vikings

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