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master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

Of House and Home.

Aaaaand back to the wedding themed stuff!!!

(Also next week’s fic is the wedding fic! :D)

Summary: your friends make a vykup nevesty of sorts for you and Piotr after your wedding rehearsal --and there’s a very big surprise waiting for you at the end of it.

Rating: T for mild references to sex, references to childhood trauma, and swear words.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Set after the ending of “The Moments in Our Lives Leading Up ‘Til Now.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @nebulous-leo

The ceremony rehearsal goes off like a dream. Everything goes smoothly, no tech errors happen, Piotr actually laughs when you switch out your vows for a joke version made entirely out of cheesy pick-up lines…

Perfection, short and simple.

The dinner party afterwards also goes flawlessly. You and Piotr had opted to order pizza to keep it simple and friendly for everyone, and it basically amounts to a massive pizza party with your dearest friends and family.

Except the two of you are getting married tomorrow –and also you each shove cake in each other’s faces because it’s fun, but you hadn’t wanted to ruin your dress.

Everyone chuckles and claps as you wipe your respective faces off –and also as you wipe each other’s faces off because it’s kind of hard to get all the frosting off without help—and then Neena stands up. “Alright, so, some of us planned a bit of a game for the groom-and-bribe-to-be for while everyone ate. You two are going to have to answer questions and preform tasks for some hints that will help you earn a prize at the end.”

Piotr raises an eyebrow, but grins anyway. “Sounds like vykup nevesty.”

“We were deeply inspired,” Wade comments, waggling his nonexistent eyebrows.

“What’s the prize?” you ask, wiggling in your seat a little.

“You’ll find out at the end,” Neena says as she taps at her phone screen. “Alright, who’s ready to watch!” She grins when everyone else cheers. “Okay, first question: what is each of your favorite foods? Piotr, you answer for Y/N, and Y/N answers for Piotr.”

“Pancakes or Cheetos,” Piotr says automatically, the picture of confidence.

“Yeah, but which one?” Neena retorts.

Piotr’s face goes blank, prompting several chuckles from the crowd. “Uh… they are both equally beloved?”

“Pick one.”

“Wait!” you interrupt as Piotr mulls it over. “This is one of the questions I put for the actual vykup nevesty! What the hell!”

“We had you write some extra,” Neena reassures you. “Just for this.”

“I think… it is pancakes?” Piotr says, shooting you an unsure glance before looking back at Neena. “She has me make those for her most often… so… pancakes.”

“That’s… correct!”

The crowd –which is really just Piotr’s family, Yukio, Ellie, Russell, Wade, Kitty, and Nate—lets up another round of cheers and applause.

You stare at Piotr when Neena turns to you for your answer. “Uh… uh… uh…”

“Come on!” Ellie interjects when you blank out for too long. “This one’s easy!”

“It is not!” you protest. “He eats weird stuff! Like Grape Nuts! And plain baked chicken! And raw celery! No one actually likes any of those things!”

“Okay, yeah,” Ellie concedes. “But there’s only one thing he makes a point to carry around with him on a daily basis.”

You gape at your fiancé as he starts laughing. “Protein bars? Your favorite food is protein bars? It’s protein bars—” you turn to Neena really quick “—his favorite food is protein bars. Really?” You turn back to Piotr. “No one likes those that much!”

“They taste good!” Piotr defends himself between chuckles. “I like protein bars. You like Cheetos.”

��Cheetos actually taste good!”

“They do not taste like anything!”

“You guys have one point!” Neena interjects while everyone else laughs at your antics. “Next question: what is each of your two’s favorite look for each other?”

“Literally anything, but especially one of your sweaters and a pair of jeans because you are forever telling me how adorable I look when I wear your sweaters,” you fire off after a moment of thought.

Piotr nods, smiling softly. “That is probably best answer. And you…” He frowns. “I feel like… when I wear nice suit… but I am not sure…”

“Babe,” you say with mock seriousness. “Think like me. Think about how I would answer this question.”

He stares at you for a moment, then his expression shifts to one of annoyed endearment. “When I wear nothing. That is what you like best.”

You grin impishly. “Hell yeah.”

“Ding ding ding!” Neena says while everyone else chuckles. “Another point for you two! Alright, last question: what is the funniest thing either of you has said during sex?”

You stare at Neena while Piotr turns red and buries his face in his hands. “Wait, what?”

“Essentially, what is the funniest thing that has been said while the two of you were having sex and who said it. You both need to have the same answer, and you can’t coordinate on this. So take a minute to think, and then when you’re ready say it at the same time.”

“Why would you write this as question?” Piotr murmurs as Mikhail cackles.

“I didn’t!” you insist. “Otherwise, I’d know what the answer is!”

Wade raises his hand, waggling his fingers as he smirks proudly.

“Of course,” Piotr grumbles, shaking his head. He glances over at you. “I have my answer.”

You start laughing. “Yeah –I mean, it’s kind of obvious.”

“Alright. Three, two, one—”

“The time I said I thought you’d—” You break off into peals of laughter, almost falling out of your seat. “I thought you’d be bigger!”

“The time you said you thought I would be ‘bigger,’” Piotr says at the same time, pursing his lips together as he chuckles.

The uproar from the crowd is immediate. Everyone starts laughing –Alex almost chokes on her drink, while Illyana scrunches up her face like she wants to forget having ever heard that, and Mikhail actually does fall out of his seat.

“I can attest,” Wade says, raising his hand. “That he is sized proportionately.”

Piotr chucks a plastic fork from the cake-face-smashing endeavor at Wade’s head. “Shut up.”

“That’s a match!” Neena announces. “Which means you have a total of three points, have passed the first challenge, and have earned your first hint!”

You take an envelope she offers, and open it to pull out…

Two house keys on key rings.

You and Piotr both frown as you examine the keys.

“We already have keys to Xavier’s,” you say as you look back at Neena.

She just smiles like she knows something you don’t –which, given the setup of this game, is pretty accurate. “It’ll make sense at the end. Alright, the next challenge is couple’s yoga!”

You and Piotr both groan while everyone else laughs.

“You guys need five points to get the next hint! Each pose is worth a point, and there’s ten poses in total, so there’s some room for error on this one.”

You stretch your shoulders as you stand up. “Alright. What’s on the docket?”

The short answer: nothing easy.

Granted, you and Piotr are in good shape and aren’t exactly super… un-limber, but it would seem that your beloved friends and family have taken into account your height differences in picking the poses –meaning that they picked the ones where Piotr’s massive size makes everything extra difficult.

“Absolutely not!” Kitty shouts when you try to fly yourself into the right position. “That is totally cheating!”

“It’s within my ability set!” you argue. “No one said I couldn’t use my natural abilities to do the poses!”

Fortunately, the two of you manage to do five of the poses successfully and get your next hint…

Which is a receipt for two welcome mats, a set of champagne glasses, and a bottle of champagne.

“It’s the right thing,” Neena says when you try to hand the receipt back to her, under the impression that she may have handed you the wrong thing. “Do either of you have any guesses about what the prize is?”

“Fuck if I know,” you mutter as you scan the receipt again before setting it next to the keys.

“Alright, last challenge.” Neena walks so she’s standing behind two chairs, which Alex and Nate just so happen to be seated in, respectively. “You two have to make these to cry.”

You snort. “What the fuck?”

“Clarification: you’ll be talking about why you love your spouse-to-be and when you knew you wanted to marry them, that sort of thing. The goal is to make each of our soldier types here shed sappy, weepy tears of joyful emotion.”

Piotr simply stares at his mother, looking dumbfounded. “I think I have seen you cry… perhaps ten times? Less than?”

Alexandra simply smirks and shrugs at her son.

“I’ve seen you cry twice,” you say to Nathan. “And one of those times was due to eyedrops.”

“Alright, time to start cutting those sweet, sweet onions!” Neena cheers as Ellie pulls out her phone and starts filming. “Piotr, you’re up to bat first. Why do you love Y/N and when did you know you wanted to marry her?”

Piotr shakes his head, smiling softly. “I love everything about her. Everything there is to what makes Y/N ‘Y/N.’ And I knew within first year.”

“Of dating?” you ask, almost incredulous.

“Yes, but also… I think within knowing you,” Piotr amends. “I knew that if you were interested in me and were interested in marriage, that was what I wanted. I knew I wanted a partner like you, someone with tenacity and excitement for life, and lucky for me you were interested.”

Mikhail mimes gagging and sticks a finger down his throat.

“Y/N,” Neena says, ignoring the eldest Rasputin’s antics. “What about you?”

“Is it a cheat answer to say ‘ditto?’” you ask, which earns several chuckles from the room. “No, no… I mean, I like everything about you, too. I like how gentle you are, how much you invest in the kids you teach, how patient you are… with me especially…” You giggle at him while he smiles at you. “And as far as marriage goes…” You quirk your mouth to the side as you think it over. “I mean, I don’t think it was so much a point of me realizing I wanted to marry you as it was… me realizing that I was ‘marriage material.’ Like, I definitely had those points of ‘man, this dude is awesome and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and I’d love to marry him someday,’ but those really coincided with me realizing that I’m worth being loved in the first place. And I’ve always been happy with the concept of marrying you, but I think it really all solidified in the last two years because I finally got past the fear that… I don’t know, that my biological parents would be right and I’d wind up all alone, and I was finally able to trust in my own worth enough to stop doing the anxiety questioning thing of whether you’d really stick with me or not.” You frown as you look up at Piotr. “Does that make sense?”

He smiles and nods. “Makes perfect sense to me,” he murmurs as he bends over to kiss your forehead. “Also, I think we win.”

You look over, realize that both Alex and Nate are wiping tears from their eyes, and pump both your fists in the air. “Yeah! Exploiting childhood trauma for the win!”

That prompts shocked laughter from everyone –especially Mikhail, who collapses to the ground while practically howling with laughter.

“Alright,” Neena says as she hands you a folded-up piece of paper. “We’ll call that win. Here’s your last hint. This should be everything you two need to figure out what your prize is.”

You unfold the piece of paper—

It’s a top-down view of a massive estate, with a larger building in the front surrounded by a sea of grass and a few trees, with a band of trees all around it, save for one spot that’s been cleared out and has a decently sized house in the center of the clearing.

Piotr frowns as he stares down at the picture. “What… what is this?”

“It’s Xavier’s estate,” you say. You recognize it from flying over it often enough. “But it doesn’t have that building at the back.” You tap the house in the clearing which normally would be –should be—trees. “Did someone photoshop this?”

“It’s not photoshopped,” Neena says. “You’re right that it’s a picture of Xavier’s estate.”

The two of you stare up at her, completely stumped.

“What else did you get?” Wade prompts the two of you. “What were the other hints?”

“Two keys and a receipt,” you say.

“What was on the receipt?” Ellie asks, grinning broadly.

“Welcome mats, champagne, and champagne glasses,” Piotr reads off. “And we also got keys.”

“What kind of keys are they?” Neena asks. “And what do you use welcome mats for?”

“They’re house keys,” you say as you hold up one of key rings. “And welcome mats…” You gape as the lightbulb goes off in your head. “Wait, what? What? What!”

Piotr’s right behind you on the realization train. “…No. No. You…”

Neena points towards the back of Xavier’s property –the ceremony’s being held outside, which means the rehearsal was outside, and you’d all opted to eat outside for simplicity’s sake. “Go check it out, guys.”

You immediately book it towards the back of the property, and get about ten feet away before you realize Piotr isn’t following you because he’s picking up all the hints. “Oh my gosh, come on!” you exclaim, grabbing his hand and yanking him towards the tree line.

Sure enough, once you two get close enough to the back of the property, you see a clear cut path in the trees and underbrush that you don’t remember being there the last time you were out here.

You dart down the path, with Piotr close on your heels. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—

It’s a beautiful, two story white house with a wraparound covered porch, a pitch black shingled roof and dark blue shutters on all the windows.

You clap a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes as you take it all in.

Piotr comes to a stop behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he gawks at the house. “Bozhe moi…”

“It’s a house, baby,” you whisper. “It’s our house.”

And that ultimately does it for you. You start crying and turn to face him so you can bury your face in your fiancé’s chest.

Piotr hugs you close, kissing the top of your head as you cry tears of joy. “It is. It’s ours.”

You look up at him and realize he’s teared up as well. “I love you so much.”

He beams down at you as he wipes off your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you, too. So very much.”

You kiss him passionately, deeply, then grin up at him when the kiss ends. “Wanna check out our new house?”

He lets out an excited giggle and nods. “Sure.”

The two of you climb the steps of the porch –and there’s one of the welcome mats at the front door. There’s a bit of hesitation over who should unlock and open the front door, since it’s both of yours’ new home and this is both of yours’ first time being here, until you suggest “putting it in together” with a waggle of your eyebrows, at which Piotr laughs and agrees, and then you both slide the key into the lock together and turn the handle together—

And then the door’s swinging open, and Piotr –ever the gentleman—ushers you over the threshold first.

It opens into a hallway that leads straight back to the rest of the house, save for one room on each side of the front entrance. There’s what looks like a living room type of room on the right that’s otherwise closed off from the rest of the house, and what is probably going to wind up being a dining room on the left that has another entrance at the back of the room that you wager leads to wherever the kitchen is.

“Oh my gosh,” you murmur as you look around. “I almost don’t want to walk in. I’m afraid of ruining everything.”

Piotr kisses the top of your head and gently nudges you forward. “Go on. It is your home. You cannot ruin it.”

There’s a powder bathroom further along on the right side of the hall, and then the space opens up into a spacious kitchen on the left and “hang out” area on the right that has a fireplace built into it. The space on the right has a hallway that leads to a different room on the side closest to you, and on the side furthest from you is a staircase that leads up to the second floor. Between kitchen and the living area space are a set of French doors that overlook the deck and yard space.

“Wow.” You press a hand against your chest, throat constricting with emotion as you take it all in. “It’s really beautiful.”

“It is,” Piotr agrees quietly, just as awestruck and overwhelmed at you are.

The two of you poke around in the kitchen first. There’s a bottle of champagne and two glasses sitting on the counter, along with a card that says “Welcome home” that’s been signed by your friends and family on the inside.

Piotr pops open the bottle and pours a glass for each of you. “To being home.”

You grin and clink your glass against his. “To being home.”

The kitchen’s already fully set up as far as the appliances go. There’s an oven with a gas range, a fridge, a dishwasher, and a microwave installed, ready for use. The cabinets and drawers –of which there are plenty—are empty, but that’s not a problem. They’ll be filled as you and Piotr and your future children grow into the space.

On the left side of the kitchen, towards the back, is a door that leads to a massive pantry space –which, as you suspected earlier, connects to the dining room.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and connected living area and head down the smaller hallway, which leads to two doors. The first, at the furthest end of the hall, leads to a flight of stairs –which tuck under the main set of stairs by the kitchen—that lead to a basement, and the other door—

Opens to Piotr’s art studio, which already has everything from his old studio in the mansion in it. It’s even set up the same way he had it set up in the old space. Hell, even the windows are oriented in the same direction.

Piotr gapes as he takes it all in, no doubt noting how perfectly the space as been set up to replicate his original studio. “How did we not notice any of this happening?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, laughing slightly. “I really don’t know!”

The two of you head up the main flight of stairs to the second floor, and are greeted by more doors than you originally expected.

You look up at Piotr and find your shock mirrored in his expression. “These… these would all be bedrooms, right? Why do we have so many bedrooms?”

“I do not know,” he admits. “I guess… we should look.”

Four of the doors lead to what look like bedroom spaces. All of the closets have built in shelves and drawers, and one of the rooms also has a built-in full bathroom.

One of the doors is another full bathroom with a double sink vanity and a separate “toilet closet” attached to the space.

The second floor is clearly designed to host a lot of people. But does that mean you’ll be having a lot of guests, or…

The last door leads to what is clearly the master suite –which already has the bed from the room you two share, along with the frame designed to hold Piotr’s weight in and out of armor, set up next to a set of French doors that lead to a balcony.

Piotr’s desk and chair –also designed to take his full armored weight—are also there, and next to them… are not your original desk or chair, but a newly built desk and a regular office chair.

You pick up a sticky note attached to the top of your desk.

Xavier needed his furniture for some incoming residents. Didn’t want you to go without a desk. -Dad.

Piotr just shakes his head as he stares at the room. “Seriously, how did we not notice this happening?”

There’s a full bathroom attached to the suite, along with a closet with more built-in shelves and drawers—

And several boxes containing all your two’s clothes.

“We are the most oblivious idiots in the world,” you laugh when you see the boxes. “There’s no other explanation.”

Piotr hugs you against his chest. “Good thing we are getting married.”

You grin up at him. “I certainly like to think so.”

By the time the two of you head back downstairs, everyone else has gathered on the front porch –except for Alex, who’s stepped over the threshold and is peering around despite Nikolai’s protests.

“Okay,” you say when you reach the front door. “How did you guys even pull all this off?”

“We all chipped in,” Neena says. “Your uncle helped, too. Once we realized the problems you two would have finding a place to live with your mutant statuses –especially with Y/N’s history—we wanted to make sure you’d have a place to live and grow into. Xavier was cool with us building on the property since Y/N’s here under a protective order and Piotr’s the future headmaster, and everything kind of worked itself out from there.”

Wade mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “lazy writing.”

“So yeah.” Neena smiles. “Welcome home. Do you guys like it?”

“We love it,” Piotr says as he wipes tears from his eyes. “It is… it is more than we could have ever asked for. It is more than you all should have done.”

Wade waves his hand dismissively –albeit with dramatic flair. “You’re basically the most grade-A, decent people to have ever lived. That means you deserve good shit. It’s happening. Let it happen.”

Hug are exchanged all around, along with repeated thank you’s—

And then Nikolai starts sputtering in mildly embarrassed sounding Russian when Alex starts poking around in the front of the house again.

“They have not seen inside yet,” Piotr translates to you when you shoot him a curious look.

“Go on! Show them!” you encourage, waving him off. “I’ll catch up in a couple minutes.”

Piotr kisses your cheek before ushering his family inside—

Which leaves you on the front porch with Nate, Neena, and Wade, since everyone else went inside with Piotr and his family.

“There’s four extra bedrooms upstairs,” you say quietly, looking between the three remaining people for some sort of explanation.

“We wanted to make sure the space would take care of your needs so you wouldn’t have to add onto it or move,” Nate says, equally as quiet. “I did a quick look into future records.”

Which means those four bedrooms are going to be occupied long-term, which means –given that it’s the most logical explanation—that you’re going to have at least four kids, depending on how everything times out.

And, granted, there’s a lot of ways to have kids, but your hand still goes to your abdomen of its own accord as you look back into the house. Seems like the future is here.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #look this fic is part of my 'has nice house with nice things' wish fulfillment fantasy #which will probably never be realized because capitalism #so let me have it sldkfjlsdjflsdkjfkldsjf #thank you #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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sitp-recs · 3 years

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hi love! Hope you're having a good day ❤ thank you so much for everything you do. I've been craving some really romantic drarry fics lately, do you have any recs? Like fics that make your heart wrench but in the best possible way. Maybe something where one of them just sits there and realizes that "damn. I love him so much"? Sending you lots of love and sunshine, I admire you so much!

Thanks so much anon, this message made my day! Earlier this week I posted a reclist with fics that include the glorious “oh” moment - you can check them here. Btw I love the way you describe it: “fics that make your heart wrench but in the best possible way”! There’s nothing as fulfilling as finding a story where they’re so in love it hurts. I’m listing below a few of my personal favorites combining heart-wrenching romance with soft, low stakes angst. I can’t promise they’ll work for everyone, but I hope you enjoy ;)

Light Years Away by @lettersbyelise (2019, M, 2.5k)

No one told Harry about the training courses young Aurors and Curse Breakers have in common, just like Harry never told anyone about his one-night encounter with Draco Malfoy two months prior.

Still Life by orphan_account (2019, M, 3k)

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (2021, M, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

Sun Stroke by @peachpety (2020, E, 4k)

Draco, Harry, and a handful of friends take a summer holiday at the beach. With the help of a sultry sea setting, encouraging friends, and a fisherman’s jumper, Harry and Draco's mutual attraction swells and things get hot on a salty summer night.

Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship (2021, E, 4.5k)

Draco runs away from home on the back of his boyfriend’s motorbike.

Our Little Life by @tackytigerfic (2020, M, 7k)

Sometimes Harry dreams. Only they're not really dreams at all, and Malfoy is always in them. It's time travel, but not as we know it, and Harry just needs a good night's sleep.

the keys to your kingdom by thistle_verse (2016, E, 7.5k)

It was nothing so elegant as fucking, the first time they came together. It was teeth just a little too sharp— against a collarbone, on the right-side curve of a jaw, drawing blood from the plushest part of a bottom lip.

Stories in E Minor by huldrejenta (2014, E, 8.7k)

Draco has found his place in the Muggle world. He's got his music, he's got his neighbours and he is content. Until a certain someone from the past enters his life again.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (2015, M, 11k)

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

Evolution by @potteresque-ire (2016, E, 13k)

Draco Malfoy was condemned to live a Muggle’s life for his three-year probation. His wand was locked away, and he was forbidden to set foot in Wizarding Britain until Hermione Granger secured a job for him in the Aurors’ stock room.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken (2020, T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

White as Snow by @bixgirl1 (2018, E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

A Hyperactive Fruit, a Nasty Neighbour and a Love Story by synonym4life (2017, E, 20k)

Potter’s pet Niffler is wreaking havoc in Godric’s Hollow and Draco, the Assistant Head to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, is the one who has to deal with it. Repeatedly.

Nice Things by aideomai (2020, M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Waiting By An Open Door by Femme and noeon (2017, E, 29k)

Draco starts following Potterwatch secretly during the War. He wishes Potter would come save him too. But that sort of thing only happens in fairy tales, and Malfoys don't get fairy tale endings, do they?

Against All Odds by momatu (2015, E, 53k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft (2018, E, 65k)

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (2018, M, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Far From the Tree by aideomai (2020, E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #romance

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scabopolis · 3 years

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😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Hope that I do this properly 🙃

I would adore a XO between Veronica Mars (LoVe) & Once Upon a Time (C/S).

PROMPT: "I’m really competitive and drunk and I just told a rival that my relationship is way better than theirs, but they don’t believe you exist (but I’m too stubborn to admit they’re right)" OR really anything you'd like. Honestly, I'm dying to see Logan and Killian interact/co-swagger.

And / or another installment of "Come Rain or Come Shine" from In Lovers Meeting because I love it with my whole ❤️.

Thank you so much for doing this. You made my day,

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Oh @jjmazzy you bring my heart so much joy! I didn’t feel quite up to the task to do a crossover between OUaT and Veronica Mars so I went straight for a OUaT AU. I hope that’s okay?

This is just a silly little thing that I am realizing only fulfills about 40% of the prompt, but I think it’s cute??

ANYWAY! Enough hemming and hawing xx *** Title: Of Expats and Onion Rings Rating: PG Fandom: Once Upon a Time Pairing: Killian Jones/Emma Swan (mentions of Robin/Marian and a smattering of other characters) Additional Tags: Two out of three of my OUaT fics feature Killian as a bartender, silliness and only half a prompt, probably way more fluff than is medically recommended Word Count: 1,500

Every Friday night, Emma Swan sits on the same barstool at the same bar in the same restaurant. This Friday night has her staring into space as she lets the sounds from the kitchen and the bar swirl around her. It’s busier than usual, with almost all the booths and tables filled and the bar area half-occupied. In fact, when she first walked into the bar, she worried there wouldn’t be a seat for her. But the bartender caught her eye and waved her over, a menu and a glass of water waiting for her in her usual seat at the end of the bar.

Said bartender slides her an Old Fashioned, extra maraschino cherries on the toothpick per usual.

She takes a small sip of the drink. “Why is it so busy?”

Killian’s eyes roam about the room and then come back to rest on her. “Some magazine labeled us the best kept secret in Portland, Maine.”

“And in doing so—”

“Assured that we would never be a secret again. Yes.”

“The pitfalls of fame.”

“Burger or chicken sandwich?”

“Burger. Any chance—?”

“Aye, probably a very good chance, but only because Graham is sweet on you.”

Emma feels her cheeks redden. “He’s not sweet on me.”

“Sure he isn’t.”

She watches Killian step away from the bar and into the kitchen to talk to Graham. How Graham can manage to listen to anything given the noise of the dining room and the kitchen she’ll never know. Graham and Killian both look over at her. Graham rolls his eyes but nods, and Emma raises her glass in thanks.

“Okay,” she says to Killian when he’s back at the bar. “He might be a little sweet on me.” She takes a long sip of her cocktail.

Killian’s brow is knit with concentration. “Long day?”

She nods. “I had a run in with Zelena.”

“Ah. The wicked witch of the northeast. What’d she do this time?” The ticket printer next to Killian’s till spits out a long drink order, but he listens even as he mixes drink and pours glasses of wine.

“She got engaged over the weekend and hasn’t shut up about it. And today, she took great pains to ask me, in front of everyone in the faculty lounge, if I’d be okay if she didn’t give me a plus one.”

“Bit rude, isn’t it?”

“Right? But then she kept going on and on asking how long it’d been since I dated someone, and did I know that after 35, forty-five percent of women’s eggs are considered genetically abnormal and her fiancé is a very wealthy furniture manufacturer and she’s certain he has some less attractive less wealthy friends he could introduce me to and on and on and on.”

“Does she truly want you at her wedding?”

“Oh, yes. She said she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She runs her finger along the condensation of her glass. “Which is when I did something very very very stupid.”

“Smacked her?”

Emma snorts. “I wish. No I—” Her explanation is interrupted by the arrival of her burger and the plate of special order onion rings. Onion rings which are technically available only as an add-on to the steak sandwich but that Emma has a 80% success rate of cajoling the kitchen to make her a plate of.

She eats her meal with one eye turned to Killian, waiting for a long enough lull in the drink tickets to finish her story. She’s almost finished her burger when Killian slides another Old Fashioned in front of her.

“What was this very stupid thing you did?” he asks, leaning towards her.

“I told her I was dating someone.”

Killian remains where he is but she notices the clench of his jaw. “Ah,” he says. “I was unaware.” He seems to hear his own words as he says them because he cringes. “Not that there’s a reason you would tell me. I mean, we’re friends, but friends in that way that I get you drinks and —”

Emma rests a hand on Kilian’s to stop the rambling. “I’m not. Dating anyone, that is.”

“Then why—?”

“It just popped out. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me or Zelena.”

“So, this fake boyfriend of yours. Just who is he?”

“Well, okay, so this makes sense when you remember it’s Friday, and I knew I’d be coming here.”

“Right,” he says, equal parts cautious and curious.

“I told her my boyfriend was British.”

Killian shakes his head.

ExPats has been her weekly haunt for close to a year now and while not everyone who works there is a British expatriate, with Killian as bar manager, Robin as front of house manager, Graham as chef de cuisine, and Phillip as pastry chef, it kind of feels that way.

“And that he had blue eyes,” she continues.

“Ah, I see,” he says, teasing her. “Are you telling me you’re sweet on Graham too?”

“Not Graham.”

“In that case, Marian is likely going to have a big problem with you trying to date her husband.”

“And, uh,” she clears her throat, “I told Zelena he has dark hair.”

Killian wings an eyebrow. “How dark?”

“Uh, right about your color probably.”

“My color?”

“Probably. I said probably.”

“Interesting.” Emma takes a sip of her drink. There’s a delicious, hazy feeling brought on from the second cocktail washing through her veins. “So, you and I are dating?” he asks.

“Stupid. It was so stupid.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I mean, I’ve been meaning to ask you out for months now. This might be just the little push I need.”

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

“What now?” he asks in return, the picture of innocence.

“You’ve been trying to ask me out?”

“Not as such, no.”

“Oh.” She sinks back in her seat, disappointed.

“I didn’t want to risk you running scared and not being here every Friday night.”

Emma perks right back up again. “Oh?”

“You already said that, love.”

Emma looked down at her plate, the remnants of the crispy bits from her onion rings on her plate. Something occurs to her then. “Graham doesn’t give these to me because I want them. Does he?”

“Excuse me?”

If she’s not mistaken the tips of his ears have gone a little red. She loves his little elf ears. “He makes these for me because you ask him. Don’t you?”

“I might have told him they bring you an inordinate amount of joy.” He scratches idly at a spot on his arm. “And that it brings me an inordinate amount of joy to see how happy they make you.”

“Did you know my weekly ExPats date used to be on Wednesdays?”

She can see him try to mentally adjust to the change of direction in the conversation. “Really?”

“I only came in a few times, but then one week, I had parent/teacher conferences so I came on Friday. And there you were.” Emma shrugs. “Your Old Fashioned is better than Will’s.” She bites off one of the maraschino cherries from the toothpick. “Your smile is better, too.”

“Emma, darling, are you flirting with me?”

“What? Suddenly it’s a crime to flirt with my boyfriend?”

Killian laughs and it makes her heart hum. She likes the clean line of his throat as he tilts his head back. “Your boyfriend? I don’t suppose you’d want to go out on a date with, then?”

“I’m free on Wednesday.”

“Funny that,” he says. “That happens to be my day off.”

“Is it?”

Emma would be content to sit at this bar all night and let Killian smile at her and make her drinks. It seems like Killian is having similar thoughts, until something seemingly flies out of nowhere to hit him in the back of the head.

Killian reels around to find Robin standing there, arms folded across his chest.

“What’d you throw at me, you git?” Killian asks.

“A dinner roll.” Robin gestures at the drink ticket printer. A ticket printer which has at least 10-tickets waiting to be fulfilled. “Pardon, Emma. Mind if he stops flirting with you long enough to fulfill the drink orders?”

“You’re fired,” Killian says.

“For the last time, mate, you can’t fire me. My name is on the lease right next to yours.”

“Murder it is, then.”

“Make the nice customers their cocktails and then you can murder me.”

Robin walks away, and Emma notices it’s not just her at the bar who finds herself charmed by the whole display between the two men. She thinks she might see a small group of women sneakily taking a cell phone video, giggling as they watch it through.

“Emma, I’m sorry, but I—”

She waves him off. “Do your thing. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and when she nods, he beams. “Good, because if we’re in a committed relationship I’m probably going to need your phone number.”

“Pour the drinks, you goon.”

#FOR YOU JJMAZZY #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #cs fanfiction #ouat fanfiction #p: emma x killian #never stories

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years

Text

tied to you ; deliveryman!august walker x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count —3,953 words

summary — in which august walker delivers grocery and somehow that delivers him straight to the love of his life

warnings —curse words, mentions of stalking, mentions of mean people, fluff???

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n —feedback for this fic or any of my works is appreciated,, hope everyone is doing fine and staying safe ❤️

tagging — @iloveshawnieboi @la-cey @melancholyy-hill @beck07990 @pedropcl

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“Fuck’s sake why am I doing this?” August groaned out as he walked down the aisle of the dry foods section of the grocery; Benji who was filling up the cart as he checked off all the grocery list of the customer answered his rhetorical question, “Well this is what you get for going against your father’s wish of accepting the CIA position that was being offered to you.”

He hit the back of his coworker’s neck as he pushed the cart as he followed him to the dairy section of the grocery, “I didn’t mean that, idiot! I meant why am I helping you out do these groceries when my job is to deliver them.”

Enjoying the sight of a whiny hulk of man groan about how he didn’t fancy picking out salted butter. “Well what’s the difference with picking out the items to you delivering them?” Glaring at the shorter man, he grabbed the carton of eggs that was indicated on the list. “For starters, I won’t have to deal with these sticky products.”

“Lucky for you we’re done with all those four orders,” Benji marked the orders as complete on the tablet as he pushed the cart towards the delivery area. August sighed out in relief, thankful that he didn’t have to deal with the sticky product labels — preferring to deliver the goods once they were wrapped in paper bags.

As he was loading up his delivery vehicle, August was softly humming as slid one of the last few crates in the back of the van. “‘Tis the last of them, Benji?” He shut the back of the van and received a nod from his closest friend from work. “And after that you’re free to go after delivering all of these.”

Pumping his fist slightly, he eagerly made his way to the driver’s seat and sighed out loud, “Last hour, Walker,” He lightly tapped the steering wheel as he glared at the road ahead of him, “One more hour and you’re done for the day.”

Turning on the radio, he hummed along to the familiar song that he once heard back in his years of highschool. The first household he had delivered to was a decent enough household — the mother was polite though her kids were a bit of jokesters who crowded their parent for Oreos yet were disappointed to find none; luckily however their other mother arrived with their desired snacks.

An elderly man was the second customer whom he delivered too; he was kind enough to give him some of the crocheted beanies he’s been making as a way to pass time. It was a pleasant combination of the colors blue, grey, and white — reminding him of his favorite winter jacket that his father had gifted him back then. Even though the sun was shining bright while the wind danced gently as it prodded his thick skin, he put the beanie on just as he was bidding adieu to the elder — it wasn’t just for show, but it also served as a wonderful reminder of the times he spent with his father.

As he knocked on the third door of the house he was supposed to deliver to, he was taken aback when a lousy man nearly spitted on his face as he clunkily greeted him. Another thing that rubbed him of the wrong way was how he brashfully dismissed him and quickly escorted him out of his house once he brought all of his groceries in himself.

“Last one for the day, Walker,” He chanted as he parked in front of the last house he was supposed to deliver to. After setting the car in park, he looked around to take in the surroundings as he drew his eyebrows together with slightly pursed lips, “Never been around this part of the neighborhood before.”

Hopping off the van, he headed to the back of the van and grabbed two of the paper bags and headed to the front door. His pointed elbow expertly rang the doorbell and stood still as he waited for the customer to open it. Truthfully, August wasn’t sure who or what was he expecting to greet him — but it certainly wasn’t a beautiful woman who was dressed with a pair of sweats and an oversized sweater.

“Oh! My groceries,” She smiled as she took the bags out of his grip and placed them by the floor near her coat hanger; after doing so she looked up at him so gently and sincerely that it helped snap him out of his dazed state, “There’s three more bags in the van; hold on and let me go get them all.”

“Don’t be silly, let me come and help you!” As he was heading to the parked car, she trailed behind him and tried to initiate a conversation, “So sorry about having so many groceries by the way. I just moved here and well, may have bought one too many items; but I just wanted to make sure I had a full stock for things.”

Once they both were faced with the remaining grocery bags, August handed her the one that weighed the least — relishing on how soft her skin was as they briefly grazed against each other — and carried the two that were leaning on the heavier side. “Don’t apologize for that, ‘m just doing my job and making sure your groceries get to you safely.”

“Does that involve you handing me the lighter bag?” She scrunched up her nose to him — and he thought that it was the most adorable expression he has ever seen on any living thing — and he shook his head and let out a soft laugh, “No it’s not that, just don’t a pretty woman like you stressing and lifting these kind of items.”

“So is that where you come in? You come in to save me and act as my knight in shining armor?” Y/N cut him off as she guided him to the dining room, she pointed to the table after she placed the bags down, “You can set those down over there.”

He nodded as he mimicked her actions, “Well I’m not sure that’s how I want to be known by you; how about I start off being known as your friend?” Surprised with how he responded, he covered him up his surprise with a boyish smile, “I can deal with that, I am bound to meet new people anyway,” She held out her hand and offered her name to him and took his soft hand in his rougher one, “I’m August, and welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Once their hands unclasped, Y/N then cleared her throat as she smiled at him, “Can I offer you a drink? Being out and about must have tired you out.” Her concern over his well-being was touching but her statement had him bulging his eyes as he remembered how technically he still was working, “Oh shit I need to get back so Luther can take the van out for his shift!”

She giggled at his panicked state and led him out the door, “It was very nice meeting you, August.” He looked at her with gloomy eyes as he apologized, “I’m sorry to cut our conversation short; but I promise to stick around longer next time.”

“Guess that means I’m gonna have to order something again next week huh?” Was her cheeky reply to him as she waved him off one final time.

“Benji! We can see the customer’s name once they place in an order, right?”

Pausing his movements halfway through his drinking of the hot chocolate he prepared, Benji suspiciously raised an eyebrow at his coworker, “Yeah we do; why’d you ask? You gonna stalk one of our customers?” His genuine concern of what his friend’s intentions were masked behind a nervous chuckle; but he was astonished to see faint traces of a blush appear on his cheek.

“Nothing like that, you moron!” August was quick to defend himself as he grabbed the tablet that was on the break table and scrolled through the application of the grocery store they were working for — each grocer had been assigned a certain amount of customers and from there they will be fulfilling their orders . His eyes lit up when he saw her name included in the list who ordered; he looked up at the top right of the screen, “Break’s over, Benj, let’s get back to work.”

As Benji threw the cup he drank on earlier in the trash as he craned his neck at his friend, “Why are you heading over to the aisles? Luther came in today and he’ll help me out with the grocery picking.”

“Let Luther pair up with Etahn, then we both can go together,” Came August’s reply as he carried the tablet on his way out of the break room. Holding a hand in his broad chest to stop him from coming out as Benji looked at him suspiciously, “What is up with you? Last week you were bitching about how you hated picking up peppers and now you're as giddy as Jack and Jill before they fell down after getting their water.”

Huffing out loud at his friend who wouldn’t budge and accept his mumbling response; with a sigh, August then had no choice but to vaguely share his encounter with a customer, “I met a girl the previous week as I was delivering groceries, and I saw her name in the list,” He gestured with his hands to try and divert the attention from his blundering state, “Just wanna make sure her groceries are filled up correctly.”

Rarely seeing his friend smile and be all giddy, he decided to tease him as they both carried on with their duty of picking out the products, “Look at the big bad wolf becoming such a softie for his crush huh? Who knew a girl was all it takes to get you to smile!”

Despite shooting daggers in Benji’s back as he picked up a bag of spinach, he was internally agreeing with what he said. After picking up everything that was on the list for their customers, August decided to pick up a bunch of fresh flowers for Y/N — he paid for it of course, it would be a dick move on his part if he were to charge it on her for it would thus spoil his surprise.

Similar to the last time, he decided to deliver to Y/N’s house last — in hopes that would grant him more time to bond with her. As he carried two bags while he rang her doorbell, he nervously shifted his weight between the heels and toes of his feet; but his nervousness eased away once the door opened to reveal her smiling face, “Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

A wink accompanied her greeting as she removed her arm from the doorway, “These all the bags for today?” She immediately took the two bags that her arms were on his bulging ones; he held up a finger, “There’s one more! Can I bring it inside?”

She nodded as she tilted her head towards the kitchen, “I’ll leave the door open and you can head inside okay?” Nodding to her, he skipped over to the van to grab the last bag containing her groceries while the other hand carried the bouquet of sunflowers he picked out for her. Idiot, what if she’s allergic to flowers? He scolded himself as he entered through her front door.

As he entered inside her home once again, seeing her move around her kitchen as she began to organize her produce in their proper cupboards when he nervously declared his arrival, “Hey, here’s the last batch of your orders,” He slid the the bags on the dining table then held out the arrangement of the flowers to her surprised face, “And these are for you, lovely.”

Grabbing it from him, she smiled at him as she teased him, “Does this come with an extra charge?” Laughing at her antics, he tickled her sides and shook his head, “No mam! This one’s on the house.”

“Well thank you so much! Sunflowers are a beautiful symbol for hope,” Placing the flowers by the sink, she grabbed for the vase her next door neighbour gifted her with when she first moved in, “Any particular reason why you gave me flowers? Hope I didn’t miss the memo for any important event.”

Something about seeing her place the flowers delicately in the vase and fill it up with water filled his chest with joy; once again she shook his head, “No particular reason, just felt like giving a pretty girl something pretty too.”

“What a flirt you are!” She lightly hit his arm after placing the vase in the center of her table, “By the way, can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m good,” August assured her as he began helping her unpack the items she had ordered; unfortunately for him, the bag he was emptying was filled with hygiene and feminine products she ordered. Noticing what products he was left with, she quickly shoved the vegetable on the fridge as she came to him and removed the items from his hold, “Oh no no, don’t worry about those. I can clean those up.”

Opening his mouth to retort, he was about to assure that it wasn’t in any means awkward for him but she was already walking away with that bag and placing it in her bathroom, “Is this standard procedure by the way? Delivery drivers come into houses to help keep the groceries?”

“No it isn’t actually,” He shouted out so she could hear him even if they weren’t in the same area, “I only do so for the customers I wish to get to know you better.”

Coming back from the bathroom she then squinted her eyes at him as she crossed her arms while leaning against the doorframe, “And what am I? The fifth customer you’ve been intrigued with?” Walking to her with a smirk as he bopped her nose, “Luckily for me, you’re the first and I’m hoping you’ll be the last one too.”

Feeling her heart speed up at what he said paired with the sincere look he had on his face. Wanting to test the waters with how comfortable she was around him, “May I?” A hand gently hovered near her cheek; when granted the consent through a gentle nod, his palm lifted her chin gently as his thumb gently smoothed over the skin of her cheek lovingly. Smiling at each other, they silently took in each other’s beautiful features. As they were inching closer, their lips almost touching, until they were interrupted by the ringing of August’s phone.

Biting his lip as he groaned out and fished his phone out from his pocket as he muttered a quick apology to her as he checked the screen of his device, “I’m sorry about this, lovely. I have to go back to the grocery — they need me back there.”

Despite being disappointed with how he had to leave, she understandingly nodded and smiled at him, “Maybe next time try reaching out to me outside of your working hours?”

“I will, I promise,” He kissed her cheek and winked at her one last time before waving goodbye to her, “See you soon, lovely.”

She didn’t place an order for the following week — at first he thought that perhaps she did order, but not during his shift or perhaps while he was having his day off — but according to Benji who had access to seeing the entire history of orders, she didn’t place an order.

“Maybe she got sick of your face,” Benji teased as he placed the bag of spinach on the cart that the larger man was pushing down the aisle. “Way to help my self-confidence, Benji,” He grunted out as he got the bag of tomatoes that his coworker pointed out that was needed by their customer.

“I’m just worried that maybe something bad happened to her?” The thought had him worried and his friend didn’t read the memo that maybe he needed an uplifting message and not to contribute to his downward spiral of worry, “Well it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it right, Walker?”

He was almost gonna shove him off when Benji held up his hands and clarified what he meant, “You know her address, so what’s stopping you from dropping by her place to check if she’s doing well?” That made him pause for a bit, that thought never crossed his mind — but now that his coworker brought it up, he feared that it might come off as rude and stalker-ish.

“Wouldn’t she think of me as a creep just for knocking on her door?” His hands were starting to feel clammy as he pushed the grocery cart and began to list out the different ways his suggestion could go wrong; but all his friend could really have to say with a shrug was, “Guess there’s only way to find that out then, right?”

Standing in front of her front door, he was now cursing out at himself for following Benji’s advice. Wedged between his right underarm were the stems of the another bouquet of sunflowers he picked out for her while his left arm carried a paper bag-filled of chocolates, chips, and some cookies. If he recalled correctly, the items he briefly got to unpack for her were filled of feminine products that were useful for one had their period.

After ringing the doorbell, the door opened a few seconds to reveal Y/N who had messy hair and a tank top and a pair of sweatshorts, “Oh, August! Hi, how are you?” At the end of her greeting, her face wrinkled up in pain as she clutched her stomach, “I’m doing fine but I take it you’re not doing well?”

She nodded and frowned, “I’m sorry but it’s just been a rough few days; I don’t think now is a good time to have guests, I really am sorry.” Having a guest — despite the current one she has was someone whom she wanted to get to know better — while she was going through shark week might turn out for the worse due to her hormones and mood swings getting in the way of her interacting with them.

“Not to sound creepy or anything,” He said but thought that that’s how must come off as he continued, “But I figured that you might be going through something since I got a quick glimpse of your groceries the last time you ordered, so I hoped to bring you comfort with some flowers,” He handed her the fresh bouquet with a nervous grin, “And some comfort food,” He gestured to the paper bag and handed it over to her.

When she took the bag from him, she snuck a peek to see that it contained her favorite snacks and smiled warmly at him, “August, this is so adorable, thank you! Would you want to come in?” Stepping aside when he nodded yes, he smiled at her and closed the door behind him. “Wanna help me pig out everything you’ve given me?”

Following her to the couch, he laughed as they both sat down; opening the package of her favorite chocolate, she then turned to him, “Wait, are you working right now?”

“Nope,” He popped the sound of the letter p as he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on top of the arm of the couch, “I decided to drop by your place, and this time not during my shift, and see if you wanted some company?”

“Oh? And what would happen if I said no to you?” She grinned at him as she took another bite of the chocolate bar, “Then I’d be extremely disappointed but understand why — some of us just need space.”

Though understanding was practically the bare minimum, she had to give it to him for not being a dick. “You’re something else you know?” She said after swallowing down the tasty chocolate, “Charming and just the right kind of mysterious, I like it.”

“To be honest, I was hoping you would be soon liking me.”

Smiling wide at his admission, she then trailed her fingers along her hand, “And incredibly straightforward too; see you are just full of surprises huh?” They both laughed and he felt himself let loose and enjoyed how they both were bonding.

“It might be the wrong time, but maybe I can take you out on a date sometime?” That question could make or break it for what their relationship would entail, but he decided to stand by it.

“Instead of going out sometime, how ‘bout we have one right now?” She suggested, “You already brought some snacks, we can order in and watch some movies or shows too if you’d like?”

Unfortunately for him he could feel his cheeks redden, “And aren’t you a bold one too? And yes, I would love that idea.”

They then ordered food through a delivery app and decided to start an action movie; and wanting for some sort of comfort, she then moved to lean on August’s arm not before asking, “May I?” Nodding, he then draped an arm over her shoulders which allowed her to lay the side of her head across his chest.

Feeling the heat radiating off of him somehow reduced the discomfort she was feeling whereas August loved the feel of her skin against his, “I’m sorry this is how our first date goes,” She spoke suddenly when she looked up to him and smiled, “Hopefully you’ll warrant me worthy enough for a second one?”

Chuckling to himself, he shook his head, “You have no idea just how whipped I am for you huh?” Bopping his nose with her finger, he then answered her, “I think that maybe you can guarantee one by, I don’t know,” He shrugs his shoulders as he pretends to think for a few seconds, “Perhaps a kiss? Only if you’re fine with it though.”

“That simple?” Came her immediate response as she moved to sit on his lap, with her hands rubbing his stumbled cheeks. Leaning over to him, she smiled as she connected her lips with his; his hands pulled her closer to his body by dragging her by the hips. Their opened mouths became the venue for their intermingling tongues. Hands were clawing and feeling out every inch of them that they could reach.

Biting his bottom lip, she broke away from the intense kiss with a smirk, “Will that give me a second date with you, August?” The way she batted her eyelashes at him sweetly contradicted the way she sultrily said it and made him chuckle as he winked, “Even without the kiss, I was gonna give you another shot anyway.”

The doorbell once again rang and Y/N stood up and told her she was gonna go get the food; when she walked back to the living area with their food in hand, she handed August his order while she began eating hers, “We kinda did the whole thing backwards huh?” The grocery store worker then tilted his head to the side as he was curious with what she meant which prompted her to explain, “We made out first before having dinner and watching a movie!”

“Maybe so,” He said after swallowing down a portion of his meal, “But I’m not complaining since all of these led me to being with you.”

#quietmyfears #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x fem!reader #august walker x female reader #august walker x reader #august walker x fem!reader #august walker au

90 notes · View notes

dreamy625 · 2 years

Text

loml - Chapter 5 and epilogue

Words: 730 + 575

Content: Modern-day Steve Clark x OC standalone fic in seven parts. Basically fluffy fangirl wish-fulfilment! If 'what if Steve didn't die' fics are not your thing, you might want to skip this one.

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Chapter 5

Now that I’m invited, I’m suddenly nervous all over again. Up to now, everything could be brushed off as casual, just people who happen to bump into each other in the neighbourhood (ignoring that this isn’t my neighbourhood and that I contrived the ‘chance’ meetings). But this is deliberate. Are we friends now? I mean, that was my fantasy, but all I thought would really happen, best case scenario, was that first meeting going well and me getting to talk to him more than just asking for an autograph. I almost didn’t go back the second time, thought about keeping it as just one perfect memory. If the second time had been really awkward, if he hadn’t wanted to talk to me, it would all have been ruined. I hadn’t really planned anything beyond finding him that first time and everything since has been winging it. I’ve just been going with whatever happens and trying not to think about it (which, if you knew my talent for overthinking, you would appreciate is a herculean act of will!). But now it’s getting real, and I don’t want to stumble into something when I don’t know what it is. Apart from anything else, it’s not fair on him. Despite the myriad of pub friends, he seems fundamentally lonely, and I’d feel like I was taking advantage of him if I pushed him further into a friendship whose basis was more in my teenage dreams than real common ground. Meeting him, he’s not like I expected. He’s not that golden god I worshipped as a kid, but also not that broken shell the media presented each time he got picked up for being drunk and disorderly or after every failed stint in rehab. He’s just a nice guy. Funny. Sweet. Good at crosswords. Pets cats in the street. Lets kids win at snooker. They say you should never meet your idols, but if your idol’s Steve Clark then you definitely should, because he’s lovely. I like him, he’s very likeable. But is there more than that? I just don’t know. And does he like me? He seems to enjoy my company, and has seemingly accepted my sudden presence in his life without really questioning it, but on the other hand, half the time he can’t remember my name!

When I ring the bell, the door is opened not by Steve but by a young woman wearing a tabard and a suspicious expression.

“Oh, hi. Is Steve home?”

“Not today thank you.” She starts to close the door.

“Maggie? It is Maggie, right?” This makes her pause, but she’s still scowling.

“Is he home?” She doesn’t answer. “He… invited me. Just ask him, please? Tell him it’s Georgie.” Hopefully this is one of the days he does remember my name.

She still doesn’t look convinced, but says okay and goes back inside, pointedly shutting the door. I don’t know if she’s even going to ask him, and wonder how long I can just loiter in the street, but after a few minutes the door opens again and with an expression that has softened to merely long-suffering, she says ‘Come in then’. I step into the hall and hear guitar music coming from somewhere within.

“Shoes.”

She’s pointing at my feet, so I bend and take off my boots, feeling like a nine-year-old visiting a posh friend’s house. Maggie gestures at the staircase leading down to the basement.

“I know the way, thank you so much.” I say with a level of charm bordering on obnoxious, partly from relief and partly just a little bit smug.

As I get to the bottom of the stairs I see it is Steve playing the music, strumming with his eyes shut. I try not to make a noise, to not break his concentration, but he must sense I’m there because he stops and opens his eyes. His face breaks into the biggest grin, and I don’t know in that moment if it’s for me, or for the music, or both, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the same smile, from that music video all those years ago. Nevermind the grey hair and the wrinkles, it’s the exact same smile and it has the exact same effect of making my heart do a somersault and my lungs forget how to breathe. So that answers that part of the question then.

Epilogue

Reader, I married him.

Ha ha. Not really! Once was more than enough for me, thanks very much. But it turns out that grin was for me and, nearly five years later, he’s still smiling at me and it still makes me dizzy. And yes, he remembers my name now.

Some people - his management company, some of his old friends who I think are just trying to look out for him but to my mind were a little over-aggressive in how they went about it - have accused me of manipulating him. And while it’s true I did contrive those first few ‘casual’ meetings, I don’t think it was any more than you might do if, say, you fancied someone you met at work or at the gym. It’s only because of who he is and that he has money that anyone has a problem with it. Steve’s perfectly capable of making his own mind up about things - he’s not someone’s senile old grandpa and I’m not Anna-Nicole Smith! And yes, there’s an age gap, but only twelve years, and loads of rockstars have younger partners - look at Mick Jagger, he’s nearly eighty and his girlfriend’s, what, thirty five? Fifty-seven and forty-five (as we were when we met) seems entirely unremarkable in that context.

But I knew how it could look, so of course I told him - that it had all been a cunning plan - when the next trip to the pub ended with us kissing under a lamppost on the way home. The whole thing, that I had planned it for weeks and that I was commuting to my ‘local pub’ all the way from Streatham, and even that I don’t really smoke! I wanted him to know before, if, anything serious happened between us, so he couldn’t ever feel like he had been tricked. I needn’t have worried because, of course, I’m not nearly as subtle and sneaky as I think I am! Once I had made my confession, he volunteered one of his own, admitting that after the second ‘chance’ encounter, he’d decided that even if I was, in his words, ‘a loony’, I was ‘a cute loony’ and he was going to go along with it and see what happened. He was a little freaked out that I had had such a massive crush on him for so long - he was afraid he couldn’t live up to my expectations. But I explained that, now I had met him, the Steve from then and the Steve from now were, to me, basically different people (which was true) and that while I’d loved eighties rockstar Steve, I also really liked the current Steve and wanted to get to know him better (also true). Over the years I’ve gradually melded them together in my mind though and now I can see 1988-Steve in modern-day-Steve, in my Steve, which I couldn’t do to start with. It was seeing him play on stage, when his band supported the Lepps on their European dates on the last tour, that finally made it click. He still moves the same way, albeit a bit creakier and missing out the lying on the stage part because he’d never get back up! Everyone’s cheering and jumping up and down and I’m standing there crying my eyes out because I’m seeing my teenage heartthrob and the man I love all in one for the first time. Truly, as the kids say, the loml.

#Steve Clark #Steve Clark fanfic #Steve Clark fanfiction #Def Leppard fanfic #Def Leppard fanfiction #loml fic #finished!

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Perfect.

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

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

Pairing: Scientist!Yuta x Robot!Winwin

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

Word Count: 6K

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is what Doyoung thought as he observed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta turns Sicheng on for the first time.

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

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

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

“Yes, master.” Sicheng responds.

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

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

“Yes, master.”

———

[1 Week Later]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He says softly.

Yuta, still typing. “Yes.”

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

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

He turns to him and gives him a cheesy smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

[The Next Day]

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

“The thunderstorm will continue into the evening.”

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

Sicheng walks over and sits beside him.

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

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

“Are you happy, Sicheng?”

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

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

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

“Good.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta and Sicheng return to the lab.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I combined elements 64 and 81 in-“

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

Sicheng starts to feel a new emotion.

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

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

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

“Sicheng...no. D-don’t cry.”

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

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

He stops and wipes away his tears.

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

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

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

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

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

He swallows hard then gets up from the table.

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

Yuta then takes his phone out and calls Doyoung.

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

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

“Come over.” Yuta demands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuta is too busy to see Sicheng watching them quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Tsk tsk, impatient as usual.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Doyoung.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yuta is already close, but he wants more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

———

[A Few Days Later]

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Yuta is almost finished, he breaks the silence.

“Do you love me, master?”

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

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

Sicheng asks, weakness coats his tone.

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

“I apologize.” Sicheng’s head lowers.

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

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

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

———

[1 Week Later]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng! Just leave me alone!”

“I will help you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Must please master.

He draws the curtain open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you feel, Sicheng?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He enters Sicheng, sliding into his already wet anus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sicheng?”

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

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

———

[A Few Days Later]

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

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

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

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

Sicheng tilts his head and stares in confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reads a passage that sticks out to him.

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard.

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!”

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

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

Now, all he needed was a sword.

Sicheng searches for types of swords.

A sword is a weapon with a long metal blade.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don't do this!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No-no! Shut up! Shut down!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

[Two Weeks Later]

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

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

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

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

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

He’s watching..he’s always watching.

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

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

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

A low voice speaks into the large room.

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

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

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

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

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

--------

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Signs 2

Geralt of Rivia x reader (smutty fic)

Word count: 1.954

Disclaimer: Witcher signs in the bedroom *wiggles eyebrows*, oral (F receiving), mild angst

Author’s note: It’s Frisky Friday my lassies! In follow-up on the previous Signs; the saga continues! And yes that includes more “pleasant, but piercing vibrations”. 😏

Dive right in, or, read part 1 first. Or go to part 3

(Link to my Masterlist)

Fire roused in your loins as you looked over your shoulder.

He was there still, the mysterious monster slayer with his simmering eyes.

With an unreadable quirk of his head he looked back at you, his step remaining one behind you. As if you were leading him. But the both of you knew better. It practically radiated off of him. Like a calm aura that you only saw around the most ballsy of a pack. Alpha. Yes, that was a good word for him. Though of course he had no pack to speak of. He was but a lone wolf, leading you on to his den.

And that was just what you wanted. You had made sure that you were most definitely NOT going to your place of residence; a room in Madam Corella’s house. The woman had a stick so far up her butt that if that room hadn’t been so cheap to rent, you wouldn’t live there at all.

‘So my place it is.’ The Witcher had grinned, gesturing you to head into the direction of the only inn of this town.

Darkness had swallowed you near whole as the rowdy town square was left far behind, the silence drowning the last of the screams and belts of laughter. It was good to be in the fresh evening air, the heat on your blazing cheeks somewhat subduing.

‘Taking a right here.’ The Witcher stepped in beside you. You hesitated. Right? That’s straight through a bad neighbou…DAMNIT! The white haired wolf had already turned the corner, near leaving you behind in the gloomy street. Like the alpha wolf he was, he didn’t give a damn about bad neighbourhoods. Or what awaited you there.

Quickly pacing to keep up, you followed him into a darkened alley, the fickle moonlight dusting the dark stone with a blueish light.

‘I’m not sure if..-’

Before you could even express your concerns the Witcher snapped into motion, a violent arm appearing out of the dark and near catching him in his throat. But the wolf was faster, teeth snarling in the pale light as he conjured a frail sign in the air, magic lighting your surroundings as a few men were blown into a heap of hay. They groaned and huffed in dismay, their egos crushed beneath the Witcher’s grin.

‘DARN YE..-!’

‘Quiet.’ The Witcher snapped, a quick flick of his fingers drawing another sign in the air, white and sparkling this time. ‘We are friendly folk, as are you. Agreed?’

Soft mumbles came from the bale of hay, limbs still sticking out in all directions. You had to make an effort not to chuckle, the sight quite comical indeed. Offering you his arm, the charming Witcher grinned all the same, daring you to laugh with him.

‘Is that what you’ll do to me if I misbehave?’ You asked, the mix of shock and admiration working a treat between your thighs. This man..was something else.

He shrugged and took your arm as you had still not taken it, carefully folding it around his bicep before nudging you on.

‘I can still bring you home if you wish.’

You laughed. He may be gruff, but he sure had a sense of humour about him. ‘Say, Witcher. Did you use your magic on the square as well? Be honest.’

His dangerous, yellow eyes sparked in the dark, making your body shiver with scared arousal. As of yet you hadn’t decided whether it’d be better to run away again, or crush yourself into his large chest and let him show you some more of his wolfish ways.

—

Well.

It became the latter.

With a slight swagger in your step you followed the Witcher up the steep staircase of the inn, a few drunkards playing Gwent in the far corner, but other than that the place was surprisingly quiet. The whole town seemed to be at the feast, meaning there was little audience to whatever was going to happen now, upstairs.

Biting your lip, you watched as the monster slayer turned his key, the taste of your recently cut lip making you swallow on the nasty tang of fear and blood.

‘Milady.’ He gestured, ember eyes taking in your form as you slowly stepped into the room.

It was simple, but comfortable. A recently used tub was placed in the corner, and some soiled clothes were hung over a chair - needing mending probably. And of course a bed. Quite small, but it’d do, especially now you felt a nose sniffing up your neck. You sniffled in amusement and wished to turn, but the Witcher would have none of that, his hands instantly grounded you, keeping you just as you were.

Alright, play time was over.

Without warning he bit down. Gently. Like he was testing if you were edible, teeth nibbling before his tongue soothed the little bite mark. His hands smoothed up your arms, pulling you even closer to his chest - which felt like a wall, so strong and broad. Again his nose worked up your neck, then your hair, though more wildly this time as he inhaled deeply.

‘MMmm that smell.’ He rasped, the rumble heard deep in his chest.

Your breath was starting to falter, the heat in your loins back where it had been when he had dry humped you on the dance floor. How was this for an interesting night, hmm? Tilting your head sideways, you allowed him more access, enjoying the way how his lips, teeth and hands became more demanding, more rough.

‘Do it again.’ You finally mumbled, hands reaching back to ground yourself on his large thighs as he nuzzled and nibbled you to mush. The Witcher hesitated for a moment, confused.

‘The..the tingly thing.’ You breathed.

He chuckled and pressed himself fully against you, hard and demanding, until you could do nothing else but step forward, on to one of the posts of the bed. His hands drug up higher, one coming around your chest and the other working its way through your hair, undoing the lose do-up.

‘You liked that.’ He purred, pushing you against the bedpost until there was nowhere else to go but heaven.

‘Mhm.’ You hummed, your tongue flaking back over your swollen, throbbing lip - darn that bloody lip was annoying.

And then he did it again; making you lose all thoughts of bloody lips or unkempt hair. The hand on your chest braced around one of your breasts, sparking another one of those orgasmically good tremors down your spine. You moaned quietly, air escaping from your tight lips as the hand in your hair pulled your head back against him.

‘Little wren.’ He repeated, sending more little bursts of energy through his fingertips until all you could was shake. And you were glad you were pinned down, with nowhere to go. Before long your legs became putty as the energy surged through your veins, his demanding tongue and teeth nibbling deliciously on your exposed shoulder.

‘Mmmm..’ You hummed, your fingertips starting to spark, legs quaking.

And then he stopped. The bastard stopped.

With an annoyed grit of your teeth you felt his weight move away from you, though still remaining close. Turning slowly he was back on you before you knew it, this time your back pressed against that bed post, the whole bed moving that last inch back up against the wall with the sheer force, floorboard screeching. You yelped softly, hands grasping at his vest.

‘Can all Witchers do that?’ Your lips were nearly touching and all you could see was his face, his lips curling up in that weird, hideous smile of his. Though.. it wasn’t ugly. It just lacked the joy that should emanate from a smiling man. It was like he was not feeling joy but mimicking it, or.. his face just wouldn’t reflect what he was feeling.

It reminded you of a saying; Witchers don’t feel emotions.

‘They can.’ For a moment you had forgotten what you had asked, confusion striking your face before you noticed his ember gaze meandering down yours, locking down on your lips. Again his fingers worked around your body, gripping you tightly, but not painfully. As he bent down, nose nuzzling yours, another crescendo of sparks was sent through your limbs. With every inch he moved closer, the feeling increased, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp as finally his animalistic eyes closed, lips brushing back against yours.

It was the combination of the warmth that trickled from his tingly touch in combination with the mild fear of his hidden strength, that made you near come at the spot. Your whole body turned to mush as you felt that strange scared arousal again. It was addicting.

Breaking away from the tender kiss he inhaled deeply again, hip bucking inadvertently into you - as if the smell aroused him deeply.

‘And is it true..’ You whispered onto his lips, a tease in your voice. ‘..that all Witchers have a crazy good..stamina?’

He hummed, then within a flash he has pushed you onto the bed, your body bouncing off the feather mattress as the Witcher removes his vest and shirt in one smooth movement. It gives you a moment to look onto his built physique. And..well..it was your wildest fantasy in fulfilment. Large bulging muscles, battle scars worthy a great warrior, and..from the looks of it a rather good endowment. His breeches were filling out nicely with a happy-to-see-you bulge.

You sucked in your bottom lip as the wolf man pulled you by the ankle, your legs now dangling off the side of the bed, hands above your head. You let out a surprised chuckle, eyes blinking as he got down to his knees, hands slipping beneath your skirts.

Another surprised yelp erupted from your lips when in one quick flick of the arm he had revealed your whole bare bottom half, his voice humming somewhere in the back of your mind; ‘And now about that kiss to make it better.’

Oh, that..HA. You had forgotten about that complete-comple-com-HOLY..!!

Without warning he latched onto your folds, wolf paws spreading out your thighs as he drank like a man starved.

OH SHIT. This was new. Oh this was very new. No man would ever..ever…HOOO

Like a true wolf the Witcher went straight for the kill, your whole body convulsing like a fish on the dry, your control slipping fast as you moaned lowly. Thankfully, the monster hunter packed muscle..and magic. Digging his talons into your thighs a bit more harshly, he nailed you down to the soft bed, more sparks starting to fly down his fingertips as his tongue continued its lavish assault.

And this time the sparks were much sharper, stronger, wilder. You couldn’t open your eyes even if you wished. His wish was your command. And like a fiddle he played you well, your mouth singing the prettiest - and most vulgar - of wanton moans. It was as if the lack of fabric between you and him made everything more intense. Skin to skin. Lips to lips.

Without warning your body surrendered, a thousand sparks sending you off flying. And it had to be admitted; you had never in your life experienced quite such a thrill, your whole body still shivering and convulsing long after your body rocking orgasm had washed away. With a lazy grin the wolf got back up from between your thighs, hands brushing up your corset until he reaching your jaw, cupping it gently.

‘Better?’

Oh, he was a tease for sure! That shit eating grin was back on his beautiful wolven face and you couldn’t help but find a need to tease back. With a push you got up to your elbows, lip pushing out as if you were deep in thought.

‘HMm..ALMOST.’ You dropped back onto the mattress, shrugging. ‘I heard the third time’s the charm.’

Go to Signs 3

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handmaiden-of-varda · 4 years

Text

Grief

Pairing: Éomer x fem! reader

Summary: You and Éomer were betrothed, but when you discovered that you were dying from a poisoned wound, you decided leaving him would be best

Warning: Angst. Lots and lots of angst. Arguing. Stubborness. Bittersweet ending. Character death

A/N: Are you looking to torture yourself with a long, angsty fic? Then this is for you. I'm sorry folks, I just had to write this. Things had been really tough, and whenever I got depressed I would write sad stuff because my heart needs to be broken more. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Pain. It was all you could feel after you woke up. You sat up with a groan, feeling as if your whole body was on fire.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

You glanced at Aragorn, who were watching you from his spot by the bedside with a concerned expression.

"I'm fine, Aragorn. You need not worry about me."

He didn't look convinced however. "It's the pain again isn't it? Do you need more herbs to reduce the pain?"

You sighed. There was no point hiding it from him, he was the one who treated your wound afterall.

"It's alright, truly. I know there's no cure for this, so I might as well get used to it."

"You don't know that! Do not lose hope, (Y/N)."

"I would not lose hope if there was one to begin with. Even Lord Elrond could do nothing about it. I am simply being realistic." You argued.

"So you would rather bear the pain for the rest of your days? To have us watch you suffer?"

"What else can I do?"

He went silent for a while. "What about Éomer? Don't you think he deserve to know?"

It was your turn to fall silent. You and Éomer were courting before you left to join the fellowship. None of you knew for sure if you were going to meet again, so when he discovered that you were alive after the Battle of Helm's Deep, he asked for your hand in marriage and you vowed to remain by his side.

But that didn't last long. You had taken a poisoned arrow for him during the last battle, which weakened your body significantly despite all the efforts made to treat you. Unfortunately, the poison had spread and you didn't have long to live. Only Lord Elrond, Aragorn and Gandalf knew of your real condition.

"He doesn't need to know," you paused. "No, he cannot know. I will not let him be burdened by me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I need to leave."

Aragorn's eyes widened in disbelief. "Leave? Leave - surely you don't mean that?"

"Yes, Aragorn. I mean it," you said. "I do not regret saving him - I would gladly do it again in a heartbeat, but I also cannot let him live his life knowing the consequence of my action. He has just ascended the throne, and given my condition, I am no longer fit to be his wife."

"And what of the consequence, should you leave?" He asked quietly.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your tears from spilling. It broke your heart to even consider this, and you knew it would break him too, but you decided it was for the best. You were dying. You loved him too much to let him suffer much worse than a broken promise.

"I would rather have him hate me, than for him to live with the grief of my passing."

"Even if that meant spending your life away from everyone who care about you?"

"Even then." By doing this, you thought you would also spare them from having to watch you pass away.

Aragorn finally relented. He wished you weren't so stubborn, that you wouldn't make such a painful decision alone. From what he knew of Éomer, he was certain the young king loved you just as much that he wouldn't leave you to face it all alone. Being one of your closest friends, however, Aragorn was fully aware that nothing he could do would sway you once you made up your mind.

He sighed. "Do you know where you will go?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I admit this... is all too sudden, but I will find a way."

"Have you really thought about this? He needs you now more than ever."

"I have. And I need him too, but I have to do this for us."

He nodded. "You are in no condition to make a long trip. Go to Lossarnach. It is a safe and beautiful place not far from here. I will arrange everything. Will you at least say goodbye to the others?"

"Don't worry, I will."

"Very well. I do not condone this, (Y/N), but I will honor your wish. I hope you are right - that this is for the best."

"Thank you, Aragorn."

. . .

Éomer was furious. He did not understand why you would go, leaving nothing but a letter behind, after everything you had been through and after your vows. Did you not mean what you have said?

In the letter, you wrote that you wouldn't be able to fulfill your promise, that you were leaving and that you were sorry. No explanation, nothing.

He spent days racking his brain, trying to think what could possibly be the reason behind your departure. He knew you were wounded from the battle, having pushed him out of harm's way, and he had stayed in Gondor after Aragorn's coronation to accompany you while you were unconscious. But lately he had been busy with his duties as the new King of Rohan, and when he finally received the news of you regaining consciousness, you were already gone.

And it finally dawned on him - Aragorn must know something. So with a newfound hope, he sought out the other king.

As he stood before the entrance of the council room, he could hear voices from inside. He was about to turn to leave when he heard your name being mentioned, so he decided to linger.

"So she left just like that?" He knew that voice. Gimli.

"You read her letter, Master Dwarf." Aragorn said.

"Yes, yes but that didn't explain why she didn't say it to us directly!"

"She has her... difficulties."

"What is so difficult about saying goodbye to your own friends in person? Do we mean nothing at all to her? You better explain everything now, Aragorn, if you still see me as your companion."

Éomer found himself agreeing with the dwarf. But he would not reveal himself, not yet.

He heard Aragorn sigh.

"You put me in a tight spot, Gimli. You are a dear friend of mine, of course, but if I tell you then everything we have done would be in vain."

"Oh, so you play a part in her departure? I cannot believe this. Fine, if you're not going to tell then I will leave as well."

"Wait!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Very well. I will tell you, but for her sake please do keep this information to yourself."

"I'm listening."

"You know that she was wounded during the battle, right?" A pause. "Well, the arrow that pierced her was poisoned, and we were too late. The poison has entered her system and weakened her body, and there has been no cure to clear out the strange, deadly poison. I'm afraid she doesn't have much longer. She knew this. So she decided to spend the remainder of her days away, to spare us from having to watch her die."

"You mean to tell me (Y/N) is dying?? And you let her go, just like that?"

"Lower your voice, Gimli."

When Éomer heard this, his heart sank. He couldn't breathe. You were dying. You were dying because of him, and he had been oblivious, even accused you. He didn't care anymore as he barged into the room, surprising both Aragorn and Gimli.

"Where is she now?" He demanded.

Aragorn pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You heard us."

Normally, Éomer would be ashamed of himself for eavesdropping. But right now, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Yes, Aragorn, where is she now?" Gimli urged.

Aragorn sighed. "She is in Lossarnach, in Imloth Melui. I have assigned a handmaid and a healer to look after her." I'm sorry (Y/N).

With the speed of light, Éomer ran out of the room to ready his horse. By noon he was already galloping towards Lossarnach, his heart beating faster and he hoped he would find you before it was too late.

. . .

You let out a small smile as you painted the beautiful scenery before you. The sun was beginning to cascade, tracing the sky with warm hues of pink, blue and orange. Flowers of every kind and colour scattered around the hill, swaying lightly in the gentle breeze. It was serene, yet it did nothing to dull the pain in your body. You felt a pang in your heart as you thought about your friends, about him, and you put down your brush.

"My lady?" Your handmaid asked beside you.

"I'm done for the day."

She nodded, gathering your supplies and leading you back to your house. Aragorn had given you a nice place to live, and you couldn't thank him enough for his help despite not agreeing with your actions. You sighed.

"I would like to walk alone." Before she could protest, you added, "I shall not be far. I just wish to clear out my head."

"Very well, my lady."

You walked slowly across the hill and to the bridge that overlooked a waterfall. You gazed sadly towards the sky and closed your eyes. You could hear footsteps coming your way, but you paid them no heed.

"I believe you owe me an explanation."

You went still. You recognized the voice.

Slowly, you turned your body to look at the owner of the voice. If your heart hadn't been broken already, it would've shattered to pieces when you saw the hurt in his face. He must've known then.

"Éomer," you breathed.

He walked closer to you. "Do you think so little of me?"

"I'm sorry - I... I know I am being stubborn, childish even. But I need to do this."

"Then explain to me, why did you do this? To me, to your friends? Do we mean naught to you? Do I mean nothing?"

"You mean everything to me, Éomer. This is why I didn't want you know that I'm dying."

"I will find a cure. There must be something-"

"Éomer," you cut him off. "It's alright. Don't bother. I have made my peace with it."

"But I have not!" He snapped. "I'm sorry. I... I wish it would have been me instead and not you."

"This was my choice," you whispered sadly. "I do not regret it."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why do you have to do this? Why did you choose to leave?"

"You don't understand, Éomer. I'm dying. I cannot fulfill my duties as your wife, as your Queen. I cannot help you with your burdens, I cannot carry an heir for you. And I certainly cannot let you watch me die," your voice broke as you held back a sob. "The kingdom is recovering. They need you now more than ever, and they need a strong Queen to rule by your side. I am not she. And I even if I was, the people couldn't afford another loss. Not so soon." I don't want you to mourn for me.

"So you thought leaving was the best." He said quietly.

Your head bowed down. He moved swiftly to cup your face, wiping the lone tear that escaped your eye with his thumb.

"We did not go through so much for you to say that. You know that I love you for you, and I care not for all those things. If you could choose to save me, if you could choose to leave, then I can choose to stay and face it with you, no matter the consequences. Just - just let me take care of you. Please." His eyes were pleading. "I would rather spend my whole life missing you but knowing that you were surrounded with love and joy in your last moments, than to live in regret for letting you suffer alone."

"But what of the people? Rohan needs you, Rohan needs her Queen."

He took your hands in his. "You are already a Queen in their eyes, my love. The people love you, and they have choosen you. They remember everything you have done for them, for Rohan. They know that there will be no King of Rohan if it wasn't for you. You have done your duties, and they will expect nothing more from you. We will face everything with you, together."

"Then so be it."

. . .

You could feel your time was approaching near, but you were not afraid. As Éomer promised, you had spent the remainder of your days in bliss, surrounded by your loved ones.

You had returned to Minas Tirith before continuing your way to Edoras, your home. To your surprise, your friends understood why you did what you did even though it pained them, some even accompanied you in Edoras. And true to his word, the people accepted you regardless of your condition. Of course, you still helped whenever you could, and they took a great care of you. Everything was going well.

"Éomer?"

He hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you both laid down on the bed. "Yes, darling?"

"Can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything for you, my love."

"Promise me that you will move on and be happy."

He looked down at you with sorrow. He was painfully aware of what was going on, and he tried his best to fight his tears. "I cannot."

"You told me you would do anything," you mumbled. Your eyelids grew heavy and breathing had become difficult, but you needed to hear it from him.

"I cannot lie to you, (Y/N). I will live well, this I can promise you. But there shall be no other, for you are the only one for me and it will remain so until we are reunited again. Will you... will you wait for me?"

"If there is another life beyond death, I will wait for you." You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Éomer. For everything."

You pressed your lips to his for the last time.

And with that, you closed your eyes as your soul left your body, bringing his heart with you to the afterlife.

Masterlist

#eomer x reader #eomer fanfic #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #eomer #lotr x reader #lotr reader insert #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #middle earth x reader #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien reader insert #angst #eomer x you #lotr

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songtoyou · 4 years

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Chapter 7: No Such Thing As Good News

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,373

Warnings: Swearing

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Rose wakes up the morning after the gala and her night with Tommy. She meets Isaiah Jesus, who takes her back home. Tommy wants to know more about Louis. We find out that Alfie continues to be a double-crossing little shit. Our favorite Italian mobster catches wind of Tommy taking away his favorite “toy.”

A/N: This chapter was fun to write and brings a lot of new plot development to the story.

Italics represent past conversations.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

The remainder of the night was not a quiet or restful one for Rose. No, Tommy still had needs that he wanted to be met. While the first session was the most intense, the rest after were a tad tamer. Well, as tame as it came when dealing with Tommy Shelby. It was like the man didn’t have the words soft and slow in his vocabulary. Rose noted that when it came to actual sex with Tommy, everything had to be fast and hard. He seemed to take great pleasure in prolonging Rose’s orgasm or retreating just when she was at her peak. It was a long, drawn-out game for Tommy.

Tommy had Rose on her back, stomach, knees, and on top of him. For a man who was a notorious chain smoker, his stamina was off the charts. He seemed to finally wear himself out by 3 p.m. With Rose on her stomach and head tucked into the pillow, she was quickly falling asleep. She could feel the light caress of Tommy’s hand up-and-down her back. It was as if the gentle act were lulling him to sleep, and soon Rose could hear his soft snores.

Rose opened her eyes to look at the man sleeping next to her. With the room dark, she could only vaguely make out Tommy’s features. She was able to see a hint of softness to him as he soundly slept. Turning over on her side, Rose pulled up the blankets and fell asleep.

By morning, Rose was awoken by the curtains being drawn back. The blinding sunlight permeated the room. “What the bloody Hell,” Rose groaned and covered her face with the pillow. “It’s too bright.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, miss,” spoke a female voice. “Here, let me close them a little.”

Uncovering her head, Rose looked to see what looked to be a housekeeper in the bedroom.

“Hi, I’m Rose,” she introduced herself to the older woman who appeared to have a friendly disposition.

“Hello, I’m Annie. Mr. Shelby’s housekeeper. I apologize for walking in on you. Must have slipped Mr. Shelby’s mind when he left for work this morning.”

“What! He’s gone? What time is it?” Rose asked, looking for a clock.

“It’s ten in the morning, dear. Would you like me to fix you some coffee or tea?” Annie asked sweetly.

Rose was about to get up but realized she was still naked. She could not believe she overslept or that Tommy left without any sense of ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you later.’

“No, thank you. I…if you don’t mind, need to take a shower. Then I will be on my way.”

Annie nodded her head and left Rose alone in the guest bedroom. With the door shut, Rose tossed the covers off of her and grabbed her to-go bag. She pulled out her toiletries, some underwear, socks, a bra, along with jeans and a t-shirt. She also hauled out her running shoes and tossed them on the floor.

For a guest bedroom, the bathroom was huge with a standing tub and walk-in shower. If Rose didn’t have somewhere else to be, she would have opted for a bubble bath. Looking at herself in the mirror, Rose traced every bruise, love bite, and red marks that were plastered over her body.

“He always leaves his mark,” Rose said to herself. She turned on the shower and stepped inside.

The hot water helped ease the soreness Rose was feeling all throughout her body. She lightly washed away any dried fluids that were left on her. Rose more than noticed the soreness between her legs, which would take a while to subside.

When Rose was finished showering, she dried herself and put on her clothes. She did one more look around to make sure she had everything, sent off a quick text to Louis letting him know she was okay and headed downstairs.

Annie warmly greeted her, “I hung up your dress by the door. It is inside the garment cover. I put your shoes in there as well.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that very much. Uh, when did Mr. Shelby leave this morning?”

“The same time he always does, about six o’clock,” the housekeeper answered. “He told me to let you sleep in, but I was unaware of which room you would be in.”

“Yeah, yeah, look, I have to get going,” said Rose and retrieved the garment bag. She slung her to-go back over her shoulder and walked outside the townhouse.

Before Rose could head down the street towards the Tube, an unknown voice called out to get her attention.

“Ms. Turner,” said the voice.

Rose turned around to see a young black man leaning next to a car. She had seen him around previously outside of her house or place of work. Rose suspected this was one of Tommy’s guys he ordered to look after her.

“Yes. What do you want?” she asked, not moving.

“Mr. Shelby told me that you would need a ride back home. I’m Isaiah Jesus,” he said, extending his hand out. When he noticed that Rose’s hands were full, he offered to take her garment bag.

“Thank you. I guess you won’t need directions to my house since I have seen you around,” she said, walking to the car.

Isaiah opened the trunk and put in Rose’s belongings, and ushered to the backseat door, but Rose cut in, saying, “Do you mind if I sit in the front seat?”

“Not a problem, mam,” replied Isaiah with a smile and opened the passenger door for Rose.

The ride back home was quiet except for the sound of music coming from the car stereo. To cut the quietness, Rose decided to speak up. “How long have you worked for Tommy?”

“For a long time,” Isaiah answered.

“How old are you?”

Isaiah laughed, “I’m 21, mam.”

“Okay, you’re sweet, but knock it off with the whole ‘mam’ thing. Call me Rose, okay.”

“As you wish, Rose. My family, well, my father to be exact, has known the Shelby’s a long time. My father’s family immigrated from the Caribbean to England. He met Tommy, Arthur, and John while serving during the War in Afghanistan back in 2006,” Isaiah shared and went on, “It was not the time to be over there, that is for sure. The arrival of the British soldiers in the southern province of Helmand was met with violence from the reviving Taliban. The Afghanis made sure to let our soldiers know that they were not welcomed over there. My dad, his name is Jeremiah, did not come back the same after that, neither did Tommy or his brothers.”

Rose could not believe this young man was telling her all of this, such revealing information. It all started making more sense to her with Tommy’s behavior. He had all of the signs of someone living with post-traumatic stress. And then top it off with his wife, the person he most likely felt comfortable and vulnerable around, diagnosed unexpectedly with cancers, and then dying. No wonder Tommy was the way he was.

“Wait, your dad is Jeremiah Jesus?”

“Yeah,” Isaiah responded, looking over at Rose.

“I have seen him on the news lately. He leads many of the Black Lives Matter demonstrations,” noted Rose.

Isaiah beamed with pride, “That would be him. He’s amazing. Definitely the type of voice and leader we need right now.”

“Yeah, my son has become more socially active at school and around our community. It is a good thing. I want him to be aware of his privileges and use them for good causes,” Rose responded fondly.

When Isaiah pulled into Rose’s neighborhood, he parked the car in front of her house. Both got out of the car, and Isaiah helped retrieve Rose’s belongings from the trunk.

“Thank you, Isaiah, for driving me home. It was nice not having to take the Tube.”

“No problem, Rose. It is my job, after all. I have to get back to London, but someone will be around to look over your house. Have a nice rest of your day,” said Isaiah and tipped his hat to Rose, and retreated back to the car.

Rose walked up to the front door to unlock it and went inside her home. In the car, Isaiah pulled out his phone to call Tommy. By the second ring, Tommy picked it up. “She home?” he asked.

“Yes, Tommy, she is just walked in her house right now,” replied Isaiah, looking over at the house.

“Okay, good. Once Darren shows up, you can leave,” Tommy instructed Isaiah.

Hanging up the phone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. When he let it out, he sat back down at his desk. Truth be told, Tommy did feel bad leaving Rose to wake up alone that morning. But he had to get to work. He knew she needed the rest from the previous night. Tommy did not know why, but when he was with Rose, he became a different person. It was as if he felt freer. More relaxed. More willing to pursue his darker desires than he ever had before. The way Tommy was with Rose, he was never like that with Lizzie.

He was not quite sure what made the two women different. Lizzie, he noticed she would never push back, never quite challenge him. With Rose, he could see there was a fire in her. Tommy especially noticed it last night when she turned the tables on him during his line of questioning. For a second, she caught him off guard but managed to recover quickly. Rose was also more open to his sexual fantasies, whereas Lizzie was never that hardcore. Yes, he and Lizzie would experiment with role-playing or bondage, but it was never to the level he had with Rose.

There was something about Rose that Tommy could not quite put his finger on. While he knew most everything about the woman, he still felt that he didn’t “know her.” That feeling bothered him. He was a man who liked to know everything about everyone and anything. Rose’s son was a factor that he did not know much about.

According to information Tommy gathered, Louis was sixteen years old and attended public school. His birthday was July 3, 2003. He currently was in his 11th year at school, with next year being he would enter as a lower 6th. While his grades were decent, he was active with after-school sports like football or basketball. All in all, Tommy needed to determine if Rose’s son was a liability. He needed to meet the kid himself to determine if that was a fact.

Once Rose settled down at home, she opened her laptop and looked through her work email. Rose’s boss, Linda, wouldn’t be in the office today. She had to take her husband to a doctor’s appointment. So Rose knew she could get away with not physically being in the office that morning. However, Rose did not foresee herself oversleeping and missing much of the day’s work. She emailed Linda, letting her know that she was not feeling well that morning. Thankfully, Linda believed Rose and told her to rest up.

What caught Rose off guard was when Linda mentioned how beautiful she looked last night.

‘What the fuck,’ Rose said to herself, confused. She reached for her phone and saw the mass of text messages from friends and even her mother, Pam. All wrote how gorgeous she looked at the gala and congratulated her on “bagging” Tommy Shelby. The text from her mother stood out amongst the rest. Pam said she wanted to see Rose and Louis and planned to make a London trip sometime soon. Nothing indicating if Rose’s dad, Geoffrey, would join Pam on the trip. While Rose’s relationship with her mother was somewhat cordial, her relationship with her father was practically non-existent. Geoffrey more than let it be known that he wanted nothing to do with his daughter or grandson. It was one of the big reasons why Rose left Blackpool.

Against Rose’s better judgment, she googled Tommy Shelby. Low and behold, there was an array of articles about him with the mystery woman from last night’s gala, with pictures to boot. A part of her knew this would happen but didn’t quite expect this much attention from her friends, boss, or mother. Thankfully, news in England never lasted longer than 24 hours. Soon, a new shiny toy would be dangled in the face of the nation, and Rose would, literally, be yesterday’s news. She only had about a couple more hours to wait until more important and titillating news came along.

With a slam of his fist to the desk, Luca Changretta was more than upset. He was angry once he caught sight of the pictures. Luca thought Alfie Solomons was lying when he said that Tommy Shelby had taken something from the Italian mobster. The Jewish gangster never quite stated what it was that Tommy had taken.

“Trust me, mate. You will find out soon enough, eh,” Alfie told Luca over the phone a while back.

“You better not be fucking with me, Solomons. I know you enjoy playing games with Tommy, but I am no fool,” Luca sneered into the phone.

Alfie just laughed, “I’m not fucking with you. No, I wouldn’t do that to ya. I think our boy Tommy needs a reminder of his place, don’t you think. The lad has gotten a bit too big for his britches. Good ol’ Tom thinks he can take anything he wants with no consequences.”

“Again, Solomons, why should I care what Tommy Shelby does?”

“Well, come Thursday morning, be sure to check the London news. Then you will see. Be sure to call me when you do,” Alfie instructed and hung up the phone.

Luca’s first instinct was to brush Alfie off. The man was always playing tricks. However, there was a part of Luca that was intrigued to find out what Alfie was talking about. The pictures of Tommy with Rose infuriated Luca so much that all he saw was red. Blood red. Blood that needed to be spilled.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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citrusella-flugpucker · 4 years

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All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described… those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE)#THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

I Fell into Fantasy - Nandor x Guillermo One-Shot

WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: Guillermo admits to a secret desire. Nandor tries to fulfill it without compromising his aloofness.

A/N: The title of this fic comes from a song called “Days of the Phoenix” by AFI. I was inspired to write this fic by the scene in the movie where Viago talks about how he likes to make things “nice” for his victims during their final moments.

Warnings: Blood drinking, a bit of smut, frottage, pining, angst

---

Guillermo really should know better.

How many nights has he spent digging up the garden to dispose of the mangled corpses left behind after the vampires’ feasting? How many bruised, torn throats has he seen? Cracked collar bones and broken limbs? Lifeless, staring eyes?

He knows the victims are in pain before they die. He knows the vampires sometimes like to play with their food, chasing tearful virgins through the house, giving them a taste of escape before tucking into their meal. He knows it hurts. He knows it isn’t sexy.

Really. He knows.

He’s still jealous. He’s jealous when he shows up to yet another sad familiar mixer to find that nearly every other human in attendance has faded puncture wounds and he has to hide his smooth, pristine throat with a turtleneck sweater. He’s jealous when he’s forced to stand in the corner and listen to his master’s obscene, tantalizing moans as he drinks from some random human who isn’t him. He’s jealous when Nandor remarks on how tasty a victim is, licking his lips before discarding their lifeless forms like so much garbage.

He knows it’s wrong. But he gave up caring about right and wrong a long time ago, around the time he dug his first clandestine grave.

He’s wanted to be bitten ever since he was 13-years-old and he first watched Lestat turn Louis on the 18-inch TV in his bedroom. He’d paused the movie, rewinding and frantically beating off as the blood poured onto Brad Pitt’s lips. He wants to know what his master’s lips would feel like on the tender hollow of his throat. He wants to feel the scratch of his beard as he closes his mouth over Guillermo’s sensitive skin. He wants Nandor to hold him close. He wants to feel those sensual moans rumble through the vampire’s chest as he takes his fill.

He wants so much.

Whenever he feels jealousy, lust, longing... he reminds himself that he should feel grateful, proud even, that Nandor has never fed from him. Nandor sees him as more than a meal. He’s a trusty companion, a person, a...friend? This is what Guillermo tells himself. He knows it’s not a matter of taste. How many times has Nandor scolded him for looking too tempting when he blushes? Or warned him to be careful with his sword collection because he didn’t want him bleeding all over the place and testing his self-control?

Whatever his reasoning--respect, boundaries, taboo--Nandor doesn’t feed on his familiar. But Guillermo often wonders if things would be different if his master knew how badly he wanted it.

---

“Guillermo, you’re very serious tonight. Are you having to take a human shit? I can wait until after for you to do the tucking in…”

Nandor stands by his open coffin with an uncomfortable smile on his face that’s akin to a grimace. Guillermo has already helped him remove his outer layers and brushed out his flowing, dark hair. All that remains is for the familiar to hold his hand while he steps up into his coffin.

“No, master, I--I don’t have to take a shit. I’m fine,” Guillermo murmurs with sadness practically oozing out of his pores.

Nandor bristles, his eyes darting all over the room as he wars with himself over whether to press further or simply to ignore Guillermo’s stupid human moods and hope they go away.

The vampire sighs dramatically, “I think you better tell me what is the matter, Guillermo. I don’t want this affecting your work performance. You do a very poor job dusting the paintings and the window dresses when you’re sad. Now what is it? Laszlo and Nadja? Are they giving the guff to you?”

Guillermo is quiet for a long moment, looking up into his master’s fathomless brown eyes as he decides how to respond. Nandor’s whole body is tense as if he’s awaiting the guillotine blade. Maybe he should just get it out of his system and finally admit--well, certainly not everything he feels for his beloved master, but at least about his deep desire to be bitten.

He blushes, lowering his gaze as he finally answers, “I guess...I’m just a little jealous. Of...of the people you feed from.”

Nandor’s face drops into blank befuddlement before his dark brows lift upward and his lips curl in a poorly concealed smile.

“You’re jealous of my victims? I kill those people! You want me to murder you? Is this some kind of death wish thing? Because I find that really annoying!” Nandor sputters, half amused and half serious.

Guillermo’s face is burning with humiliation now and he rushes to clarify, “No! No, I don’t want to die, master. It’s just...I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to be bitten by a vampire...”

His voice fades to nothingness but Nandor clearly understands him and his face grows pensive as he contemplates his words.

“Are you bullshitting me?” Nandor questions and his tone is just close enough to irritation to cause Guillermo to shrink in on himself as he answers.

“No, master.”

“Well…” Nandor sighs and affects a look of disinterest. “It’s alright to say that sort of thing to me, Guillermo, because you’re my familiar. But you want to be careful out there with the other vampires. You could get eaten up! And then where would I be? Having to make another ad on the Greg’s List!”

“...Craigslist…”

“As I said!” Nandor snaps, holding out his hand expectantly as he moves to get into his coffin. “Now, that’s enough of this crazy talking. Alright?”

“Alright, master,” Guillermo murmurs subserviently, reaching up to release the lid and slowly lowering it, sealing his master inside.

“Goodnight, Guillermo!” Nandor’s muffled voice calls as the familiar moves around the room, blowing out candles.

“Night, master!”

Sealed in the claustrophobic darkness of his coffin, Nandor’s mind races as he tries to process this new information about his familiar. Guillermo--his little Guillermo!--would let him bite him and drink his delicious blood? No, he wants him to do it. Yearns for it. He is jealous of the people he kills just because they get to feel the sting of his fangs and the touch of his lips. Nandor palms himself through his trousers. He’s harder than he’s been in a century just thinking of it.

---

He tries, he really does. Guillermo tries to forget about his shameful admission and go back to normal. Nandor certainly seems unmoved, doing nothing to even hint that he remembers having the conversation. So, Guillermo goes through the motions, dutifully completing his chores, searching for fresh sources of virgin blood, and standing by while Nandor sates his bloodlust with perfect strangers. But now that he’s revealed his secret--part of his secret, let’s be honest--and faced his master’s outright rejection, he just can’t seem to let go of the hollow ache in his chest.

He feels inadequate, pathetic, unattractive. And sad. Mostly sad.

Guillermo might think that Nandor has forgotten all about their little chat, but the vampire dwells on it just as much as the human does in the days that follow. And it’s impossible to ignore the scent of “sad human” that’s begun to permeate the household. Nandor spends several days battling with himself over what to do. He considers killing Guillermo and starting over with a new familiar… Guillermo gets his wish, Nandor doesn’t have to confront his shameful attraction to his servant… everybody wins! But the thought of Guillermo’s sweet little face gone still and lifeless sends a foreign stab of emotion into his chest that is really unpleasant.

He could ignore the situation and hope for it to go away on its own. But now that he knows his familiar is secretly lusting after his bite, he can’t get it out of his mind. He’d avoided feeding from Guillermo for years. At first it was a matter of preserving a valuable asset. Guillermo is a good familiar, why risk slipping up and accidentally draining him? After a while, when Nandor started to fixate on his familiar’s adorable smiles, fantasizing about how his soft, little body would feel against his...then it became a matter of self-control and rejecting his disgusting, unnatural feelings for a... servant!

So, that leaves him with one option. He must feed from Guillermo...carefully. So, so carefully so as not to be overcome and either kill or ravish the poor fellow. And if he is going to bite his Guillermo, then he must make it a pleasant experience for his familiar. He can’t stomach the idea of simply ripping into his human and hearing him scream and cry with the pain of it. No, it has to be...special.

---

Guillermo is barely in the door, laden down with shopping bags, when his master’s voice calls to him.

“Guillermo! Is that you?”

“Yes, master! I’m back from the store. I got you some more of those bath bombs you like,” Guillermo answers, wrestling with the bags as he edges towards his room. “Is there something--?”

Nandor appears at his side and interrupts, “The one with the lavender? Very good, Guillermo. Ehm--why don’t you put down those satchels and come with me to my room for a moment. I have a surprise for you.”

Guillermo’s face lights up with a warm smile and he drops the bags on the floor by his closet-room, “A surprise? For me, master?”

“Just for you, Guillermo! Come!” Nandor practically skips at his side as they walk back to his room, his eyes lit with anticipation.

Nandor closes and locks the door behind them, watching his familiar take in the arrangements he’s made. He borrowed Laszlo’s gramophone and set it up in the corner. It’s playing a soft, quiet melody that floats gently on the incense-infused air. A vase of vivid red roses sits on an end table next to his fancy couch, which he’s covered in a layer of bath towels.

“What...what is all this, master?” Guillermo breathes, walking up to the flowers and burying his nose in the fragrant blooms with a smile on his lips.

“Do you like it, Guillermo? I wanted it to be--” he pulls a face but manages to get the word out “--nice for you.”

“But, why?”

Nandor steps up beside his familiar, towering over the smaller man. “I’m going to feed from you. If... if that is still something you are wanting.”

“Oh,” the word comes out on a shaky exhale and Guillermo feels his knees go weak. “I--yes, I still want...that. Thank you, master.”

Nandor smiles, baring his fangs and crinkling his eyes. Guillermo feels his heart do a flip in his chest and wonders, distractedly, if Nandor can hear his heartbeat. They’re standing so close. Guillermo could lean forward just a bit and they’d be touching. He looks up into Nandor’s eyes and finds them melted with warmth. His master has never gone through such an effort for him before. Guillermo feels like his heart could burst.

“You want to take a seat?” Nandor gestures to the towel covered couch and Guillermo snaps out of his daze.

He sinks down onto the cushions, running his hands appreciatively over the terry cloth, “This was clever, master.”

Nandor takes a seat beside him, close enough that their thighs brush together and Guillermo gulps. He’s brushed his master’s hair, helped him dress, helped him bathe for goodness sake, but he’s never felt as close to him as he does now.

“Are you comfort-a-ble, Guillermo?” Nandor asks, staring at his face with a hungry intensity.

Guillermo locks eyes with him and he sees his master’s pupils dilate, his lips part to bare elongated fangs. He gasps out a quivering breath as he fights the waves of exhilaration, lust and fear in order to answer.

“Yes, it’s...very comfy, master. Very nice, thank you.”

“Good,” Nandor responds, his eyes flicking down to Guillermo’s collar. “Why don’t you remove your woolen garment and open your collar. I don’t want to spoil your nice clothes.”

Guillermo feels like he’s in a dream. Nandor is never this...considerate. His mind flashes back to every time he’s watched his master strike out at a victim unannounced, with fierce aggression and even cruelty. It’s pathetic that his standards are so low, but the fact that Nandor isn’t treating him like just another victim to be used and discarded sends a rush of affection and hope flowing through him. He hastily grabs the bottom of his sweater, pulling it up over his head and tossing it aside. Next, he reaches for the collar of his shirt, but Nandor is there first. His long, thick fingers pluck at the buttons, releasing each one until Guillermo’s chest is visible. He pulls the collar aside, revealing the smooth, unblemished curve of Guillermo’s neck and shoulder.

“Are you ready?” Nandor asks with a hiss as he eyes his familiar’s naked skin. He’s never seen so much of the man before and he feels his cock stir with interest inside his trousers.

“Yes,” Guillermo breathes needily, tilting his head to bare his neck even further.

Nandor brings his hand up to cradle Guillermo’s head, letting his fingers sink into his soft curls and cupping his warm cheek in his palm. The pulse point at Guillermo’s throat is practically visible, his heart is beating so fast. Nandor feels his mouth flood with saliva as the rushing flow of Guillermo’s blood reaches his ears.

He wraps his other arm around his familiar, drawing him onto his lap and finally leaning in to bury his face into the warm, inviting crook of his neck. Nandor breathes in the intoxicating aroma that even the human-things-for-smelling and his incense cannot obscure. He moans loudly. He might be embarrassed if he were less overcome with the sensory feast of his familiar’s soft body in his arms and the promise of his warm, thick blood.

Guillermo mewls at the touch of his master’s mouth on his bare throat. His beard is scratchy and rough but his lips are impossibly soft and gentle. It’s like a kiss, he thinks, his heart rushing with affection and joy. Nandor’s arm around him is firm and strong. He knows that he could never hope to escape if Nandor truly wished to restrain him and drink him dry. Putting this level of trust in his master makes him feel like a tiny, frail rabbit in the jaws of a hungry wolf. A delicious shiver runs down his spine at the image. And then Nandor’s lips pull back and he feels the sharp points of his fangs graze over tender skin.

“Oh!” Guillermo cries out.

Nandor growls low in his throat but pulls back just slightly to check, “Is this still alright?”

Guillermo nods quickly, bringing up his hands to run them through Nandor’s soft hair reassuringly, “Yes! Yes! Please, master!”

He feels Nandor’s chest rumble with suppressed laughter and then there’s just the blinding, burning flash of pain that blooms as Nandor finally strikes, burying his fangs into his familiar’s soft, warm throat. Guillermo’s mouth falls open and his hands fist in Nandor’s hair as the first wave takes him.

“Shhh,” Nandor murmurs wetly against his neck, lapping the spilled blood with long strokes of his tongue. “Shhh, you’re safe.”

“Nnghh!” a pleasured groan strangles from the familiar’s throat at the touch of his master’s tongue. Guillermo squirms, his cock filling even as blood drains away from his body.

Nandor tightens his arms around his little Guillermo, pulling him flush against his broad chest and biting down once more as he begins to drink in earnest. He moans wantonly as the sweet blood fills his mouth. He’s as hard as he’s ever been and he rolls his hips against his familiar’s generous backside. He drinks and he drinks.

The pain ebbs enough for Guillermo to lose himself in the delicious feeling of connection with his master. His hands, his lips, his tongue, his teeth are all on him, inside of him, part of him. Nandor’s touch unlocks a secret room inside of Guillermo where he keeps his most tender feelings. For once he allows himself to truly feel the devotion, the affection... the love that he has for his master. It’s wonderful and dizzying. Tears slip from his eyes as he reaches his arms around Nandor’s broad shoulders, hugging him closer for as long as he’ll allow.

Too soon he feels his head start to spin and his grip on Nandor’s shoulders loosens. The vampire senses it immediately and draws back with a feral growl. Guillermo is limp and breathless in his master’s arms. He looks up with heavy-lidded eyes and watches Nandor lick blood from his lurid, stained lips.

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo whispers, snuggling into Nandor’s chest with a contented sigh. His arousal is flagging and he hopes that his master hasn’t noticed. He’d felt Nandor’s rigid erection grinding against him while the vampire drank his blood, but he has no way of knowing if that’s just something that happens every time he feeds. Whatever the case, he’s far too weak and drunk with happiness to do anything but drift along and hope that Nandor keeps holding him.

Nandor’s dead heart squeezes in his chest at the sight of his sleepy familiar burrowing his face into his chest. His plan seems to have failed. He’d wanted to give Guillermo his fantasy while remaining aloof, but instead he’s feeling an annoying rush of warm affection. Worse, he’s shamed himself by...rutting against the human like a street dog. He should push him away, or give him an order to remind him of the boundaries that are still in place. But as he looks down at the sweet smile on his familiar’s lips he can’t find it in him to spoil the moment for him so soon. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night he’d remind Guillermo of how things still stand between them.

“Will you keep holding me, master?” Guillermo mumbles, his eyes drifting shut. The human has read his thoughts!

“Yes,” Nandor replies, leaning down and tracing a barely there kiss onto Guillermo’s forehead. “For a little while.”

#nandermo #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #wwdits fanfic #wwdits

77 notes · View notes

xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 4 years

Text

If you stay and wait for Jeongguk...

Word Count: 4,731

Disclaimers: This is part (45) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Check at the end for glossary of Korean terms*

**So behold my wish-fulfilment/mystically putting ideas in JK’s head xD Wrote this early 2019 before he’d actually got himself tatted up. What I love is that not only did he do it (after I had proposed him getting a tattoo in the fic and my friends had gone “he wouldn’t - he’s Korean and that’s frowned on there” making me change it to a fake. Maybe my “get a real one next time, baby” somehow whispered through the dream-world) but he went beyond my wildest dreams and got his fingers done ^.^ Either way enjoy! :)**

Start here:

“Jeong-ssi, listen!” Hoseok tells him, taking both his hands in his own to drive his point home. “As the youngest, do you think you’re being polite?!” he reprimands him, his tone incredulous. “You need to be more respectful – we all know each other well now, and things are more relaxed, but Namjoon is still your hyung.”

Jeongguk looks repentant and a little shy. He nods in recognition of Hobi’s words and bows his head to Namjoon.

Jwesonghamnida,” he speaks softly and deferentially. He’s obviously sincere, and Namjoon acknowledges the apology graciously. Jeongguk looks so soft and pretty that you feel guilty for wanting to rip his clothes off so badly. That is until you catch his provocative wink, as he follows Namjoon out to meet Bang PD Nim. Hoseok watches your eye-line, amused.

“Wow. Someone’s a smitten kitten,” he teases you with one of his trademark giggles, back in a buoyant mood now that he’s defused the situation.

“Come on Hobi, don’t,” you mutter, trying not to wince at the thought of your little minx using those charms of his on some k-pop starlet for the game show. Hoseok must catch something in your mood as he changes the subject quickly, asking if you want to come to noraebang with him over lunch. Laughing and acknowledging that the man knows your weakness, you agree and follow him out to his car with only one last wistful glance in the direction Jeongguk left with Namjoon.

You make it through a few songs and some starter dishes before Hoseok grills you about the whole Bangtan situation he slept through last night.

“So what was that all about this morning anyway?” he starts.

“What do you mean?” you hedge. He gives you a look.

“Come on Noona. Jimin and Yoongi are both in a mood. Jeongguk is acting like he’s suddenly in a frat house. Namjoon has clearly had it up to his eyeballs. What’s with all the attitude?” You avoid his eyes.

“Also Mai is conspicuously absent. Wait… “he adds, pulling out his phone. “She’s texting me…” That gets your attention. He reads off his phone: ‘Yoongi and I are over. He wants to see other people. We need to talk.’ Wow. I mean that kind of explains Yoongi’s mood I guess. But what about the others?” Even though you kind of gathered something was wrong last night, you’re stunned.

“Fine,” you relent. “I don’t have any idea what’s got into Jimin, but Tae seems to know. And Jeongguk’s mad because Namjoon banned him from my room last night cos Bang PD Nim wants him to be in the new series of We Got Married. Satisfied?”

Hobi looks taken aback. He chooses his words carefully.

“Are you in love with him?” he tries.

“Who? Jeongguk?” you ask. Hoseok rolls his eyes but smiles gently.

“No, Namjoon. Of course Jeongguk!” he clarifies.

“Yes,” you confess, sulking.

“Since when?” he prompts, after pausing to let the waitress bring in more of the dishes you’ve ordered.

You shrug. “Maybe a year?” you tell the polished floorboards. “Since he started acting like a little hussy,” you admit with a wry smile to acknowledge you know it’s futile. He grimaces apologetically.

“So why did you wait til last night?” he wants to know.

“He came onto me and I couldn’t resist him,” you mutter.

“That’s kind of cute. Stupid. But cute,” Hoseok evaluates the situation.

“I know it was stupid,” you agree, begrudgingly. “But what about Mai?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Maybe we should text her to meet us. I’ll ask if she minds if we’re both there,” he tells you.

“She won’t come to noraebang,” you point out.

“I know,” he acknowledges. “So we’ll meet her at the coffee shop.” By the time you get there Mai is already nursing a coffee at one of the back corner tables. She watches you and Hobi impassively over the top of her oversized dark glasses as you both order and join her.

“So,” Hoseok starts, “you and Yoongi?”

“Right to it, then,” she almost chokes.

Hoseok stays silent, but puts on an expectant look. You both wait as she tries to sort out her thoughts.

“He wants to see other people,” she shrugs. “So I guess that’s over.”

“You guess...that’s…over?” Hoseok slowly trails, confused.

A small part of you is still worried about yourself and Jeongguk’s situation, but a bigger part is now worrying about her. Yet denial is a strong thing, and Mai’s is as concentrated as they come. Maybe she’ll handle it, as she so frequently insists she will.

“It was all good,” she shrugs again, “and then he was talking about distance. And how hard it is. And…yep.” She takes another sip of coffee.

“So he ended things?” Hoseok asks, now genuinely confused. You can understand his confusion - she says ‘we need to talk’, and then that’s everything she offers.

“He wants me to go on tour with you guys more often. I said…‘Well, I have a life.’ But like, nicely. I said it nicely,” she assures Hoseok with a pointed look. “Then he got kind of weird about it…he kept saying it was hard on him. And I was like, yeah, get in line. I mean, welcome to the club, right?” She pauses. Hoseok nods, his eyebrows furrowed from attempting to understand how she finds humour in the situation. “I was nice about it, really. And then he sort of escalated it, and we kind of got to talking about… potential? Or boundaries? ‘Artistic space’ or something? And…yep.”

“Then he ended things,” you state, to clarify.

“Can’t be a ‘rap star’ with a steady girlfriend, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, clearly mocking something Yoongi’s said to her in that conversation. “I don’t know if I did the right thing,” she almost whispers. Her posture slouches a little - she’s somewhat caving into herself, suddenly vulnerable. “Maybe I should’ve protested against breaking up with a little more enthusiasm, but I didn’t see the point if he’s halfway out.” She catches herself for a second and looks at you. “But don’t worry about your situation with Jeongguk.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a good kid. Kind of. And you’re great. And the situation is different, you know? Yoongi’s a mess. You’ve got shit sorted for the both of you. So don’t worry.” You’re not so sure, but you don’t want to shift the focus. Nor do you want to think about it all right now or your imagination will run away with you. Mai watches you, reading your mind as usual. She smiles faintly.

“You’ll be okay,” she reiterates.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks Mai, growing impatient.

“Lived without him before. Will live without him now,” she jokes.

“I guess…that makes sense…” Hoseok nods, the look of concern not leaving his kind features. You and Hobi exchange looks, but leave it at that. She’ll handle it, she insists. She moves the conversation to other topics by sheer force of willpower and Hoseok lets her, on the surface, even more used to her ways than you are. They’ve known each other since they were just kids after all. You’ve all managed to finally reach some level of normalcy when everything goes haywire.

First Yoongi, just straight out of nowhere, materialises in the doorway, immediately catches sight of you all and then just as immediately pretends he hasn’t seen you. Mai has her back to the doorway, so you and Hoseok avoid eye-contact as he orders his coffee and walks to a back table. Mai gives you both a bland look and calmly takes another sip of her own coffee.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” she asks you. You look at her, realise lying is futile, then both nod sheepishly. She breathes deeply, without bothering to turn around, then raises her coffee to blow on it unnecessarily, knowing Yoongi will realise the implications of her choice of beverage. Next, and before you can even deal with the intruder situation, you get an irate text from Namjoon, demanding to know where you’ve ‘spirited Jeongguk away to’ this time. You refrain from texting back in the same tone and calmly inform Namjoon that you’re out to coffee with Hobi and Mai and have zero idea where Jeongguk is. But the news does make you uneasy and, despite his current hostility towards you, you do feel bad for Namjoon who is, after all, just trying to keep things together.

“Should we leave?” Hoseok whispers, snapping you out of your train of thought.

“I don’t mind,” you say. You both turn to Mai. “No,” she says decisively, “he can leave. I got here first.”

“Slightly childish, but I’ll take it,” Hoseok nods, smiling despite himself. You hang around for a while, to lend weight to Mai’s protest, but you eventually have to tell them that in all fairness, you’d really better go and help Namjoon with things.

By the time you arrive home, Namjoon is frantic. You assure him that Yoongi and Hoseok are both fine so his hypothetical body count is down to one. He gives you a wry look and smiles, despite himself. “Okay, so I might be overreacting a bit,” he allows. “But I really don’t know where Jeongguk has fucked off to or how to handle Jimin and Tae both being so moody lately. At least Yoongi has a reason to be, I guess. He said he broke it off with Mai last night?” he looks at you questioningly and you nod shortly, indicating you don’t want to go into detail, for Mai’s sake.

“I’ll go talk to Jimin and Tae and see if I can squeeze them for info,” you tease. “Glean what afflicts them and all that.” Namjoon half-laughs.

“What about your boy toy?” he prompts. You shrug. “He’s probably just acting out,” you hazard a guess, even though you’re at least as concerned as Namjoon. “He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

Sure enough, you and Namjoon have barely finished speculating when the back door slams open and the object of your speculation tramps into the kitchen, exclaiming about the downpour he’s just been caught in. Jeongguk looks up, shaking raindrops from his bangs and his jacket and you melt at the look in his eyes when he sees you. He darts a look at Namjoon, who clears his throat pointedly, and ducks into the other room.

“Did you...I mean are you…?” you start, drawing instinctively closer to him. He shakes his head, scattering water drops everywhere and puts his hand to your cheek.

“I couldn’t do it,” he whispers, pleading with his eyes for you to understand without him spelling it out. He places his other hand on your back and pulls you towards him, pressing his mouth against yours and slipping his tongue between your lips. You open your mouth and clasp him to your chest, as though he’ll disappear again, if you don’t possess him with your entire being. You kiss for a bit and then he stops, looking at you intensely. You can’t quite place his expression, but there’s a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Hagoshipeo…” he begins, then switches to English, nervously hesitant. “I want to…” his pronunciation is halting, but he’s getting more fluent daily. Yet you’re still not prepared for his next words… “fuck…you…so [he tries again, checking your eyes for signs of validation that he’s doing okay] so? [you nod to encourage him, though you’re a little scandalised]…bad,” he finishes, awaiting your approval, with that smile still dancing around the curve of his lips.

“Close enough,” you tease him, capturing those lovely lips with yours.

“Badly! It’s ‘badly’,” calls Namjoon from next door, unable to resist correcting him. “Also TMI Jeong-ssi. I can speak English too, remember?” he adds, rolling his eyes as he comes back into the room, arms crossed. You step back from Jeongguk, not wanting to irritate Namjoon further.

“You know, to be fair, he probably doesn’t want to fuck me badly cos that’s a whole other thing,” you correct Namjoon. He grins at you wryly.

“So anyway what…?” You clear your throat, embarrassed. “...what exactly happened while I was out with Hobi and Mai?”

“Give us a minute?” Namjoon directs at Jeongguk, who picks up on the sudden serious tone and shift in the air and decides to go quietly. As he leaves, he gives your hand a quick squeeze and sends you a little wink, ducking out the door.

“Jimin’s in a mood,” Namjoon starts the list, sighing, “Yoongi’s in a mood, and Bang PD-nim’s breathing down my neck about everything.” It hits you how much Namjoon actually has to deal with. He’s the middle man; he has to watch out for the boys and for the company simultaneously. It doesn’t help that the boys hardly ever make things easy for him. They forget, he’s as young and new to this as the rest of them are. Genius IQ and leadership role aside, he’s still only 24.

“I notice it, too. Jimin’s been… sour about a lot,” you say delicately, your mind going straight to his last outburst.

“I mean, I know why. He was seeing this girl for a while, secretly,” Namjoon explains, “and it didn’t work out. Something about her wanting it to be more public, wanting to announce it like Hyuna-noona and Hyo-jong did.”

“And Jimin can’t,” you nod, understanding immediately.

“Jimin can’t,” he confirms. “He tried, though. He asked Bang PD-nim about the likelihood of being able to announce a relationship, hypothetically. Bang PD-nim kindly said it isn’t possible, at least not in the immediate future. So Jimin’s… sore.” Before you can say anything, Namjoon groans in frustration, “...and now Bang PD-nim is giving me a hard time about all these ‘ideas’ these boys are having. They’re asking these questions, poking around, being moody when we’re supposed to work. I don’t get it, we knew what we were signing up for. Why push it?”

“What happens now?”

“I don’t know. I spoke to Jimin earlier and he told me they’ve broken up,” Namjoon replied. “She couldn’t take no for an answer. The fact that Hyuna-noona and Hyo-jong were fired for it escaped her completely. And not all of us can get a contract at P Nation.”

You both stand in silence for a minute.

“I think I have an idea,” you finally say, hesitating for a second. Namjoon looks over curiously, so you continue, “You know how Jeongguk said no to the show?”

Namjoon’s head drops, even more exasperated now, and he blinks at the floor as if he’s searching it for answers. “Of course he did,” he mumbles. You can almost see the invisible extra weight that’s just been added onto his shoulders. “Put Jimin on the show instead,” you suggest as casually as you can, “He’ll get to meet new people, you guys don’t default on the contract, and at the very least, it’ll take his mind off the break-up.”

You can see Namjoon thinking about it, mulling over the idea in his mind. “It could work,” he says after a while.

“It’ll be Jimin’s stepping stone, into television. Not in the same way Tae’s serious period dramas did, but it’s still television. A good starting point,” you think out loud, rationalizing it and almost convincing the both of you.

“He might actually agree to it,” Namjoon nods. “And it’ll address half of Bang PD-nim’s concerns. But what do we do about Yoongi?”

“I don’t think that’s something we can fix,” you tell him gently, “But from what I know, the issue is superficial. It’ll blow over. Might want to give Yoongi a head’s up if it starts to really affect his work, but otherwise, leave it be.”

“Okay,” Namjoon nods. “Thank you, Noona” he says to you, with enough genuine appreciation in his voice for you to make a mental note to watch out for him as much as he watches out for the rest of you. You gesture into the other room.

“Do you want to go watch something and leave the kitchen to Jin?” you suggest. Namjoon raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“What about…?” he hesitates.

“Well I’m pretty sure I can hear the shower running, and you know how long Jeongguk takes with that,” you answer his unfinished question. “Guess I’ll just have to hope he doesn’t jack off in there or he’ll lose all his momentum.”

“Oh gross! Please stop,” Namjoon cringes at the mental picture. You laugh and lead the way into the living room, calling out to Jin that the kitchen is free. Namjoon picks some action film and you settle yourselves on the two couches, deliberately leaving space for any of the guys to wander in and join you both if they want to. Tae meanders out of his room at some point and flops down on the other end of Namjoon’s couch, toasting you lazily with his pop bottle in greeting. An hour or so passes, then Jeongguk drifts out of the bathroom, with still-damp hair and a towel clinging to his slender hips.

“Oh no Jeonkookie. You didn’t,” Tae objects, staring at his exposed ribs with a mixture of horror and admiration. Namjoon shuts his eyes, probably hoping you’ll all evaporate and he’ll wake up in his bed as a teenage rapper with no responsibilities again. You shoot Tae a warning look, then hop up to examine the inked hangul running the length of Jeongguk’s side more closely. You look up at him in amusement. His eyes widen in affected innocence.

“Mwoh?” he asks you, fake-innocent and clearly trying not to laugh. You shake your head at him, equally exasperated and distracted by wishing it was real.

“Don’t worry Namjoon. Before you even ask. It’s fake,” you assure Bangtan’s beleaguered leader. Jeongguk sulks a little at having his prank exposed but shrugs in defeat as Namjoon relaxes and returns to his film.

“Does it look hot though?” Jeongguk checks with you, quietly anxious.

“Well it might if it didn’t appear to say…” you double-check “Made in Korea,” you point out. He pouts, but then laughs, embarrassed.

“They didn’t have many options for the fake ones,” he explains, sheepishly.

“Yes it looks hot,” you whisper in his ear. “Get a real one next time, baby,” you tease him, biting his ear lobe gently. “But wait til Namjoon is less stressed.”

“Where?” he prompts, dropping his head to tickle your jawline with his kisses. You play with his hair as he teases a lovebite at the side of your neck.

“I don’t know...maybe…” [you let your finger glide along his iliac crest] here?” you suggest, making him draw in his breath sharply. You raise his head with your hands, so you can take sips from his cherry-flavoured lips.

“Mmm…” you exhale longingly, licking your own lips to chase the flavour.

“Do you like it?” he asks you, all shy. “I got it when I was out before.”

“Mm-hm,” you reassure him, kissing him over and over. “I love it.”

“Guess what else I got,” he provokes you.

“I’ve no clue,” you admit.

“Bubblegum-flavoured lube,” he murmurs right in your ear.

“Let me taste it,” you smile, nipping his full bottom lip.

“Come in my room then,” he invites you.

It’s at this point that Jimin finally decides to emerge from his self-imposed exile to encounter you and Jeongguk embracing right in the middle of his trajectory from his room to the kitchen. He glares at the two of you in utter disgust.

“Why are you two still acting like cats in heat?” he demands crossly. He transfers his glare across to Namjoon, “and why are you letting them, Namjoon-hyung?” Namjoon’s jaw sets as he controls his temper at Jimin’s disrespectful tone but Jin, who has stepped in to ask whether you’re all out of sesame oil, hisses at him angrily: “Jimin-ssi! Show some respect. What is the matter with you kids lately?” he tuts, retreating back into the kitchen.

“Sorry Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin mutters sullenly. Namjoon sighs deeply and pauses his film.

“Jimin-ssi come in here for a minute,” he instructs him. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to get scolded. At least not right now. I just want to ask you how you might feel about this idea we’ve had.” Jimin goes over to Namjoon, casting a resentful look back over his shoulder as Jeongguk takes your hand in his and pulls you insistently towards his room.

“Hold up horangi,” you caution him softly. “I’ll come in a bit, okay? I have to help Namjoon with this first.” He looks so petulant you have to laugh. “Hey you got Namjoon into this situation in the first place with your messing about,” you point out. He cocks his head in acknowledgement of the truth of this statement, tangles his fingers with yours briefly, then pads over to his room alone, leaving you to join Jimin and Namjoon’s little ad hoc meeting. It doesn’t really take very long and Jimin seems excited at the prospect of the show, so you and Namjoon congratulate yourselves on a job well done and you go check on Jeongguk in his room. “Whatcha doin’ pretty aegi?” you address him, stirring him on purpose. He’s stretched at full-length on his bed, still wearing only a towel, as he plays with his hand-held gaming device. He flips onto his back when he hears your voice, dropping the game onto the bed with a wicked little smirk.

“I’m not a baby,” he objects. “I see,” you say. “But you’re alright with ‘pretty’ I assume?” “Handsome,” he corrects you. “Okay,” you smile, grabbing his ankle to pull him towards you. He pulls his leg out of your grip and reaches up to tumble you onto the bed with him.

“Aniyo! I get to be in charge this time, Noona” he reprimands you sassily.

“Oooh - you gonna be nae oppa Jeonkookie?” you tease him. He smacks you playfully.

“Hey! Behave!” he tells you, obviously a little needled by ‘that word’ and your teasing tone. “...jebal Noona,” he sulks.

“Okay, no. Mianhae,” you tell him, contrite. “Go ahead. I will listen.” He looks pleased, but shy.

“Please lie on the bed properly,” he requests, politely. “I will get changed.” You do as you’re told, deliberately making yourself look feminine and submissive for him and glad you’re still wearing suitably girly clothing from your outing earlier. Of course he takes ages to choose his clothes, so you close your eyes and relax against his pillows. Eventually you feel him sit on the edge of the bed next to you and take your hand.

“Are you sleeping, Noona?” he asks you, softly. You open your eyes and smile at him, shaking your head.

“Aniyo, cheonsa,” you assure him. “Just resting...Wow!” You gratify his efforts with your eyes wide. He looks stunning: dressed to the nines in a crimson-red silk shirt, black tie and black satin formal clothes to which he’s added his silver chain bracelet, a few silver rings and his dangling silver earring shimmering in one ear, leaving just a plain ring and studs in the other holes. He’s even gone to the trouble of styling his hair and applying his eye make-up, which is sweet, but you want to tell him he looks beautiful without even a lick of make-up on. You don’t though, as you don’t want to ruin his thing he’s trying to do. “You look like a king,” you tell him and he looks at the floor, shy. But he seems flattered.

“Should I go dress up properly as well?” you check with him, deferential, still letting him play the leader.

“Ani, you look pretty,” he tells you. Little witch. He obviously knows not to say “okay” or “fine” and you smile to yourself at his diplomacy. You don’t have time to think it over too much though, as he starts to kiss you, removing his jacket and draping it carefully over the back of a chair. He loosens his tie with one finger and gives you a crooked smile.

“Do you want me?” he asks.

“Badly…” you tell him, trying to pull him closer. He winks, wrenches his tie off, and starts to unbutton his dress shirt. You reach your hand out to stroke his exposed chest and he closes his eyes, exhaling with a little sigh when your fingers brush one of his nipples.

“Uh...geugos-eun ppara,” he groans. You come over to him on your hands and knees and do as he asks, tickling him with your tongue first, before clasping his nipple between your lips and sucking for all you’re worth. He whimpers a little, then giggles and waves you back.

“Okay, okay,” he protests. “Enough. My turn now…” He crawls across the bed to you, bringing to your mind the contained power of a panther, rather than the soft, playful kitten you were expecting to deal with earlier.

“Oh, Jeongguk-ah,” you breathe, startling both of you with your suddenly-renewed intense desire for him. You reach out for him again, beseeching him with your eyes, and he smiles wickedly. He strips you, tantalizingly slowly, then strips himself while you watch him with your longing painted all over your face. When he’s done he flings himself down next to you again and sprinkles kisses all over your body, teasing you into a frenzy with his perfect lips. Just as you’re about to admit defeat and beg for mercy, he brings those lips close to your ear and whispers; “Still want my jaji to taste like bubblegum for a bit?” then reaches across to his bed-side table drawer.

He shakes the lube up like it’s a can of whipped cream, then applies it liberally to his erection, wincing slightly at the cold. At his gesture, you start to lick him carefully clean, using the longest, most lingering strokes you can manage, under the guise of just wanting to taste all that bubblegum-flavoured deliciousness. But it doesn’t take long for you to abandon any attempt at pretence, take his cock in your hand and suck him off with a relish unrelated to any artificial flavouring. He lets you get him pretty excited, then indicates, somewhat urgently, that he needs you to stop. Changing your positions, so that he’s now on top, he presses your legs apart and climbs between them.

You feel the hard length of him slide up inside you with no resistance as he pulls you upright into a sitting position and thrusts his hips like a jackhammer. His eyes are shut and his face betrays the physical effort of his exertions as he pants and gasps his lust out loud: “Uh...oh...baby...ne...oh sshibal…!” You try to restrain your own moans, not wanting to annoy the hell out of the others if they overhear you guys, but he’s swiftly bringing you to the brink of ecstasy with his ministrations. You’re not fucking much longer before he sends you straight over the edge, compelling you to scream his name, just before you feel his semen spill into you and onto his sheets. He collapses onto his back and flings his arm around you, cuddling you close as you both drift off.

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

Some weeks later, it’s dinner time and slowly everyone gathers at the table. Jin places the final dish at the centre and stands back to admire his hard work. Jimin is happily spooning rice onto everyone’s plate as you all settle in, Jeongguk dropping into the seat next to yours.

He discreetly places a hand on your thigh and gives it an innocent squeeze, sending you an adorable little smile. He’s dialled down the public displays of sexual energy since your initial hook-ups, and you’ve arrived at a comfortable understanding - you’re in a real relationship, with actual commitment, and Jimin no longer has to be put off his breakfast on a regular basis.

“Yoongi!” Jin calls out. “Dinner!”

With perfect timing, Yoongi comes around the corner. “I’m not joining you guys tonight, but thank you.”

Jin instinctively puts a hand on his hip, in a very motherly fashion, “Where are you going?” he demands.

“Out,” Yoongi retorts.

The whole table waits for an elaboration. After a beat, he finally rolls his eyes and mumbles, “with Mai.” As soon as Yoongi has left the room, you ask Hoseok, “So we’re… letting this happen then?”

“I guess,” he shrugs.

THE END

Glossary: (feel free to submit corrections for these ^.^)

Jwesonghamnida (저성함니다) Sorry (polite, honorific form)

Noraebang (노래방) Karaoke (Korean style - lit. singing room

Horangi (호랑이) Tiger

Aegi (애기) Baby

Aniyo! (아니요) No!

Nae oppa (내 오빠) My ‘oppa’

Jebal (제발) Please

Mianhae (미안해) I’m sorry (informal)

Geugos-eun ppara (그것은 빨아) Suck it...

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fan fiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #BTS suga #bts imagines #bts scenarios #BTS jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook smut

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seostudios · 4 years

Text

ignored - s.mg

pairing: song mingi x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: you and boyfriend!mingi’s not so small fight

a/n: this isn’t a new fic, it’s an old one i wrote but i hope you guys enjoy it

after leaving the dorms in a hurry you run to the nearest bus station sitting down. after a few minutes of catching your breath you finally acknowledge what just happened in the dorms. "god mingi you idiot.." your quietly tell yourself. earlier today mingi and you had a tiny disagreement in the morning over the phone about where your relationship was going.

"mingi you don't understand! i sit at home, work and school wondering about you. sending you dozens of messages just wanting to know how you are, yet you never answer or reassure me about anything. it..it feels so one-sided." you say over the phone to mingi. "y/n i know this is hard but it was a given. you should understand that your dating an idol. i don't sit at home all day i'm busy y/n busy!" he says with a tone over the phone. "bullshit. yunho still has all the time in the world to call sumin and text her almost everyday all day. it takes so much from me to get even a few texts from you." sighing you rub your temples, who knew you could get this stressed at 9 in the morning. "y/n..." as he was about to speak he was interrupted by hongjoong to get to practice. "i gotta go. please y/n stop by later tonight." he says before cutting the call. it didn't sound like mingi at all with the soft tone so you didn't say anything back letting him cut the call.

re-living today in your head all throughout the bus ride home you think to yourself what went wrong. it was all perfect yesterday and it could've been today as well but stupid y/n here tried to express how she felt. when i went to the dorms later that day all mingi and me did in front foyer of his dorm house was argue. "you don't understand! you never do! i came all this way expecting an apology or some understanding but your just twisting this to put the blame on me. i'm done trying to solve this with you." . right when i came in he acted like nothing he thought i simply wanted his attention. it was abominable i can't believe he thought of me as some-sort of attention seeker. you were upset though. you knew ending things with mingi was the best choice, it was better off like this. you wouldn't get in the way of his idol career and he won't hurt you anymore.

Mingi Missed Call (4) Mingi: y/n?? sweetheart? Mingi: please answer my calls Mingi: we need to talk you can't end us now Mingi: this is a joke right Mingi: please answerrrr

you were keeping yourself distracted by watching your favourite drama's on the television, ignoring your phone blowing up from the coffee table in-front of you. as the drama ended you slowly dozed off of the sofa.

you slowly awaken to the smell of....bacon? i live alone...?!?!? jolting up you look at the kitchen, vision still a little blurry you rub your eyes and try to focus on the tall tower walking towards you. i need my glasses which are...apparently not here. great. "here eat up." the voice you immediately recognized making you move back on the couch grabbing the plate. "why are you here." you ask him eating the food he made after you find your glasses under your blanket. "am i not invited?" he says cockily. "your not. we are broken up if you weren't informed." you say with attitude since your trying not to be too nice. he didn't treat you right y/n remember. "i was informed, yes." he says sighing with disappointment. "i wish i wasn't" he says getting up. "shall i get my things or do you want to keep them." he says slyly hoping you'd pick option two. "what? are you crazy? why would i keep my ex's belongings?!?" you say getting a little bit pissed off. mingi seems to give up on trying to joke around until you give up and give him the love he wants. "y/n." he calls out your name and as expected you ignore him and walk towards the restroom to freshen up. "you better not be here when i'm out." you say shutting the restroom door rather loudly.

almost half an hour has past and you open the restroom door hoping mingi would be gone. but of course he was sitting on the couch slouched watching whatever was being played on the television. kissing your teeth you head to change into your outing attire. it was a simple outfit; sky blue skinny jeans with a white short sleeved top with a round neckline, vertical seam down the front and a wrap over draping the hem. hair was in a middle part with your simple natural makeup. forgetting to take off the necklace mingi got you on your two year anniversary; it was a short thin gold necklace with a text pendant that had his name on it as he had the exact same necklace with instead of mingi it said y/n. cute right? matching name necklaces. walking over to him standing in front of him slouched watching the television, he motions you to move out the way so he could continue watching. "oh my god.. you won't get it will you?" you tell yourself loud enough for him to hear. he looks up to you since he's got no where else to look since you blocked the television. "we are not dating..! how hard can i stress this for you mingi. i'm sorry but you can't be here. it's not good for both of us." you tell him "i want to." he says sitting up. "you want to? what." you say dumbfounded. "i want to be happy with you. i want to date you." he says looking down embarrassed knowing he isn't good with expressing himself. "me too mingi. look we may have been together for almost four years now, happiest years of my life but i don't think it's gonna satisfy me as much as it does to you. it's hard. i love you." you tell him, both of your ears going red. "i know it's hard but please i don't want to lose you, your the one thing that's got me motivated to keep going. it's hard for me to be an idol and exceeding everyone's expectations over and over again. it's hard for me to keep up and knowing your in my life is what keeps me going." he tells you only to cover up his face from the embarrassment he must feel. mingi isn't one to open up about his feelings but will to you if it means you'll still be there when he wakes up. "mingi.." you say kneeling down. " i know i don't text or call you everyday. i know recently i've been ghosting a lot. but even with all this time apart i know we are each other's number one. you know you love me you know you don't want this." he says looking you in the eye watching tears brim in your eyes. "don't do this to me." he tells you- voice breaking. kneeling forward you wrap your arms around his neck bringing him into an embrace. his arms were quick to react and he wraps them quickly around you. "does this mean were not going to break up?" he asked stuffing his face into your shoulder. telling him you won't ever bring the idea up and will stay by his side.

please re-blog and show me love! i’m a new writer so sorry if this didn’t fulfill your expectations

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danieyells · 3 years

Note

Thanks for answering my questions! I know it was a lot lmao but I Am Have Questions and very few people informed enough to discuss them with xD

I suppose it is possible they Oniwaka and Co. were being rent from their exceptions and not to Tokyo itself, but I thought the way it worked was that MC rent their connection to Tokyo itself and overwrote it with their own! I hadn't considered your angle before; something to think about haha

If I remember right though, Sitri's wings, and with them his powers, only grew in recently right? Like, a little while before the first Valentine's Event? That's why he had so much trouble controlling them if I recall correctly! But sustaining himself on that energy is one thing that can be explained (though! It's possible that part of Sitri's deep desire for chocolate in general, but valentine's chocolate especially, is the love that gets put into them? Not to say he sustains himself solely on it or anything, but it might explain the strength of his desires ahaha)

Wait. Do those character quests mean that collisions can literally send people into the pasts of other worlds?? Like fr?? And also, does that mean collisions are like, direct overlaps with other worlds and not just illusory versions?

Part of why I'm trying to sort this all out is because I want to write a TAS fic, but I needed a better understanding of how, exactly, the system works, and was basically about to throw my hands in the air and say that actually nobody goes home at all until they've fulfilled their contracts ever and that's that xD I've finished all the story content btw! Including chapter 11 and most of the translated events, except for the Canaan one (gotta get on that, pray I get myself a Dagon 5★)

Does that mean that we contracts are *unfulfillable*? Like MC's connection with Agyo was basically like "I want friend lmao" and then they got their friend, but does that mean that Agyo is trapped in Tokyo until MC decides that they don't want to be friends with him anymore?

Also, do you think that if a Stray Transient does eventually run out of energy to sustain themselves in Tokyo, they get booted back to their world permanently, or do you think they just recover their strength in their home world and then get pulled back over?

Thanks again for answering my questions! I hope that this is proving as interesting to explore to you as it is to me hahaha

I don't mind that it's a lot at all! Lol it was just a surprise. I'm honored to be approached about this kind of thing, and I find it very interesting, yeah! 'u' I love worldbuilding and characterization so thinking about/sharing my thoughts on it for things I like is always a pleasure.

I mean it's possible they're rending their connection to Tokyo, but I feel like that wouldn't take the exception away? Because it came from an interaction they had, not Tokyo itself. I figured they were torn from the exception and the exception and fighting robbed them of all their energy in the proccess of making them a. . .screaming, mindless fighting machine lmao. Like rending a familiar from someone? But that familiar is inside them? If that makes sense? I don't remember if this was explained to begin with let alone how lol I should reread it lol

Sitri's wings did come in pretty recently, and they're implied to be a puberty thing. The problem is that he says they came in "the other day"--which doesn't necessarily mean "two days ago" as convenient as that'd be. The Japanese is even more vague, just saying "When I was taking a bath" without giving a timeframe. But I kinda figured that, until the wings popped in, love from his family was enough to sustain him. Because Bathym doesn't have a family here, really, he has his fans and the guild. But also since his family knew about the wings, saying they were a sign he was growing up, maybe they have a similar power that pops in during puberty and thus were able to feed him others' feelings. But yeah they were new which is why he couldn't control them.

As for the pasts in other worlds. . .time doesn't flow in other worlds the same as it does in Tokyo necessarily. El Dorado isn't even around anymore, time in Shangri-La flows slower than in Tokyo, etc--but these places still participate in the Game despite that. So worlds and timelines aren't entirely stable--after all time's been reset over and over. Also, we have time travelers from Utopia(which is the future???) so if they were forced to conform to a single space-time path that'd be kind of difficult? So, yeah, time and space and memories aren't necessarily stable in collisions. I mean, if a world collided based on memories, who's to say those places are still exactly as remembered? It works for the jungle in Shangri-La because it's a jungle and how much will that change--but the collided oceans are connected to towns in other worlds? Dagon connected islands from various worlds into one, too--those can't all be his own memories or from the same timeframe. Collisions are pretty unstable by definition so it doesn't surprise me that time can get screwed up along the way.

But yeah collisions seem to be actual overlaps of some sort--since Macan remembered that he heard MC's voice that happened in the collision, Xolotl met and saw himself in the collision, etc. And those things had effects that brought them to Tokyo to begin with.

Oh, there's also Nomad's character story where MC was invisible to everyone but Nomad--Nomad could feel them too--because the worlds were unstable under Ikebukuro Coliseum and they reminded Nomad of the prison he was in, causing the Collision.

MC could travel the collision/memory without Nomad around and get accurate information about its layout to help him escape.

If the collision doesn't alter the actual past then there's no way they'd know without Nomad physically with them. . .and there's no way Nomad would know where to go to escape the prison if MC weren't able to get actual information.

Then MC breaks the lights--only Nomad can see them, but they can affect reality/the past in a way that influenced everyone in it. And they're able to escape thanks to information MC gathered about and influence MC had on the world that Nomad would have no means whatsoever of getting/doing on his own.

Then they saw present Nomad who said MC was his, MC tried to reassure past!Nomad that it was okay, they were the same person, and past!Nomad felt betrayed.

Past Nomad sees MC through the transient light and chases after them, bringing him to Tokyo in continued pursuit of revenge.

. . .and present Nomad, now home with Mc and having had resolved the collision, remembered that he'd been chasing MC through the transient light but had travelled to Tokyo to find them--but had not travelled to them. He'd likely forgotten who he was looking for because he was kind of out of his mind at the time and thought he was chasing after his own hallucination to begin with.

Now that he remembers he wanted to kill MC for leaving him but also knows that he's the one who MC left him for, he deems them half a traitor for only betraying the him of the past not the him of the present and lets them off the hook for now.

(nice kabedon--DAMN THE TEN IMAGE LIMIT.)

MC was the one he wanted venegence against when he left Utopia, although he still has to get revenge against the people who turned him into a tiger. But he went to Tokyo to get revenege against MC and made a contract with them without remembering they were the target. He says he won't kill them for now but someday, when his other revenge is done, he'll come after them for betraying him. Until then they're his assistant and they'll be helping him get revenge. If they betray him again--betray him "one and a half times"--they'll become the new priority and he'll kill them first.

But even he said that he thinks that he's crazed for revenge is stupid so MC figured out that he wants them to keep him in check. (He calls them 'traitor' fondly(? He smiles while doing it, I think it's pretty fond) and I wish he kept doing that but it'd probably reveal more to people than Nomad is comfortable revealing lol so he calls you by name instead.)

Also, canonness note, he declares them his detective assistant when he declares them his accomplice--and in the Beach House Andvari he reiterates that's your relationship too. Which means that his character quest is canon across events. And if events are canon--whether through your choices or not(at one point in the story you know Gyobu but you only met him in events until that point???) that means Mc making pacts with everyone could be canon too.

. . .but yeah collisions are just time and space freaking out. Maybe they're past resets of sorts.

And oooh fanfics are exciting 'u' I'll give it a read if you link it! And congrats on reading everything! *U* I've gotta do that myself lol and good luck getting 5★Dagon!! I wanted 5★Tangaroa(someone I have added has him and. . .holy shit he heals himself, he heals allies around him, he's practically invincible) but I ran out of transient stones and I'm poor irl 8'D The Canaan event is fun and also chaotic and will probably give you even MORE questions about how the fuck timelines and collisions work. Because it kinda introduces a new mechanic into the mix. So uh brace yourself?

The problem with "nobody goes home until they've fulfilled their contracts" is that some people just don't have contracts. And their own desires only seem to cause gates to open and take them, not actually bind them--someone from Tokyo(or in Tokyo in MC's case) needs to be their binding agent if they're not like. A World Rep or someone similarly powerful enough to stay on their own(this is a guess--they're probably sustained by being the System and thus stand on the faith of all their people from their world. Alternatively they're bound to Tokyo via MC as the trophy.) Otherwise they wouldn't note that transients disappear eventually if unbound by a contract.

Gullinbursti isn't attached to MC by contract anymore not because MC said "I don't want us to be friends" or anything but because MC refused to make a proper contract with him because he'd misinterpret it. But he's still hanging out, so. It's not immediate. But, yeah, there are probably unfulfillable contracts that can only be broken by death or declaration. Agyo is stuck with MC until MC says he can go lol--I mean they're friends now but it'd defeat the purpose of the pact if they went away as soon as that happened. Because MC wants more and more companions they'll never truly have their desire to have friends fulfilled probably. So anyone summoned that way gets to stay in Tokyo until MC is no longer in it or maybe until MC decides "I don't want people around me anymore/I don't want to see anyone ever again" and truly means it--which will declare their contracts fulfilled and send them home, if they have a home/life to return to.

As for if Stray Transients go back permanently, yes and no. I think they go back and recuperate their energy and they stay home if they don't have an outstanding pact(whether they're aware or not)--however if they were just there because they went into the light and had nothing binding them to the land but that energy/will that brought them, they'd go home without bwing sent back unless they really wanted it again. Thus they can be resummoned, intentionally or otherwise. If MC one day dismisses everyone, regrets it, and says they want their friends back, everyone would come back. But if they didn't ask for everyone to return they'd stay home(disregarding that they'd probably all go NO WE WANNA GO BACK TAKE US TO MC and the transient light would bring them back to Tokyo again lmao.)

So. Yeah, they'll stay home until summoned again, even after they get their energy back, I think. If they don't have a home to go back to maybe they float in the void for a while, kinda like how MC just kinda existed as the Exiles without a home or like how Robinson says they can't stay anywhere forever because they're Wanderers.

(Somewhat related, Shiro mentions in the Apprentice Santa event that it must be hard to import turkey to Tokyo. . .import it from where? Tokyo is closed off on all sides INCLUDING THE OCEAN. That means someone's bringing turkey from other worlds into Tokyo--a business-like summoning contract lol. "Come to Tokyo, bring goods from other worlds, and you can go back until I need more" basically. Using another world like a manufacturing plant lol. . .little things like that make me consider that you can go and come back at the will of a summoner, assuming you donct have an artifact or ability that allows you to traverse worlds as you please.)

Another thing for you to consider if you wanna be a bit more puzzled: remember how much belief plays a part in how things work in Tokyo. Consider. . .if someone claims they're not a stray transient when they actually are and everyone around them believes that they have a contract or guild or something keeping them there even though it's not true. . .are they bound to Tokyo by that belief as long as they're around more people who think they're bound to somebody? Will they disappear if people stop believing them or they're around people who believe they're a stray? Consiquentially if people believe a stray will disappear sooner than later does their timer run out faster? If Ose somehow ran around telling people that transients won't disappear with his ability to make people believe everything he says, do they stop disappearing because no one thinks they will? I suppose he can't lie to nature, but can those beliefs sustain people? I mean belief can cause Oni to be hurt by beans, can cause Behemoth to regain his sense of taste, can cause people from worlds that've been destroyed to become demons because the Angels invading will it to be so. So where does belief's power end and the power of the System kick in? Does the game end if MC puts on Ose's crown and tells the Representaives it's over and they all lost? Or would the alternation of belief on a mass scale cause an Exception by clashing with something more powerful than it? What, since they so value Systems and the Faith that sustains them, to the point that losing Faith in your System causes a full on collapse of the world it holds together(see:Canaan), is more powerful in this game than the power of belief?

#danie yells with anons #danie yells answers #danie yells at tokyo afterschool summoners #long post #tokyo afterschool summoners

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