#wrapped arpund your finger

[desirecorrupted]

"When your lips move, I can't help but picture them arpund my cock." ((For Hella!))

🐝  *  ―  𝑫𝑰𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺.

“Let me guess... You’ve been staring at my mouth all this time. For how little I talk sometimes, I’m surprised...” Hella had noticed Church sitting on the other end of the sofa. Once he made himself comfortable enough and started talking, she lifted her feet from the floor and stretched her legs across his lap, leaning against the sofa. There was a smirk in one of the corners of her mouth and a playful look in her eyes; they were as if glowing with excitement.

“So, that’s what you want, hmm? A blowjob.” All she needed to do was reach out her arm, and her hand was on his face, the tips of her fingers caressing his skin. In another few seconds, she was onto him, lips meeting his, fingers winding through his hair, brushing gently against his neck and shoulders. “Could we strike a deal, Church?” she purred, leaning so close that her lips were against his ear, her breath tickling his skin. “If I do that, I get to ride you afterwards.”

After that was said, Hella went to her knees, her dark red hair, almost brown, and the little black dress she wore nearly obscuring her in the dimmed light. She felt almost like a ghost, like those beings she kept chasing to destroy at night... except this one may have wanted to destroy Church - of course, in the most pleasurable way possible. Her deft fingers made quick work of the buttons and zipper of his pants, and a few kisses spilled over his stomach - and then he was in her hand, and Hella pressed a kiss to him before he slid in her mouth.

Her head sank, lips wrapping round his length, one hand caressing up and down his chest as the other one held onto him, loosely enough so as to not hurt, yet tightly enough so she could please him, stroke after stroke after stroke, the gap between her mouth and her hand nearly non-existent. For a while, that was all she did, sucking on him gently, licking at him, her hand caressing him.

Then she pulled away, licking her lips, and her hand kept stroking him still. “I will go on. But I need you to tell me how that was.” Even in the position of a giver, not a receiver, Hella had the aura of someone in control. And if she had to be honest, to be in control of his pleasure felt almost as sexy as having him all to herself...

@thestupidmeanone

[sherlockbelstaff]

He is Connor (Continuation)|Detroit: Become Human|Connor x Reader (Neutral). And RK900.

A/N: Requested by- @autumnboze00

Thank you for requesting! This is probably the longest piece I have written ever. Also, I must warn you that you may get confused if I suddenly change from you to them when referring to the reader since it is in third person. This shouldn’t be a problem when I revise it later on.

It’s so good to have broken out of the writer’s block. I honestly was so miserable xD.

Anyways, Enjoy. ✨

Warnings: RK900 (I feel I made him a bit psychopathic here. Forgive me.)

Connor x Reader (Neutral)

Summary: It wasn’t difficult to see that he was taking advantage of those memories, moments and inside jokes that a month ago would’ve made them smile but now stabbed a knife in their stomach deeply, gripping the handle and twisting it just to see (Y/N) grimace.

“An android that fell in love with a human. Who would’ve thought?”

***

“I don’t know what to do anymore Hank.”

Defeat.

“You still have me kid.”

Consolation.

A choked back sob. A hug between friends.

“I want to wake up. I want this nightmare to stop.”

Fear.

***

“S-Stop right there!” (Y/N) gripped their gun, shaking, stealing a glance at the unconscious figure of their friend, unmoving, limp.

It wasn’t as if Finn and (Y/N) had something going on. Good friends is what thh were, known each other since school and practically survived highschool thanks to the support of each other. They were siblings, inseparable thanks to the friendship between their parents.

And now he was hurt, crumbling to the ground with the blow to the head Connor had perfectly delivered with his own elbow. He probably would’ve attempted more if they hadn’t taken out their gun and pointed it straight to his head.

He had the guts to look pleased with his actions.

And angry, so damn angry that (Y/N) had spent time with their friend.

“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” He admonished, folding his arms back in a haste stretch, as if he was getting ready for a fight, or more likely showing he wasn’t afraid to proceed on more stern measures.

“Are you fucking insane?!” (Y/N)’s shout bounced off the walls, loud, disbelieving. “Have you any idea of what you have done?” They approached him with long yet slow strides. Anything could happen, destroy or bring what had been tensing up silently between them to a final closure.

When he failed to answer, choosing to just stare, they lowered their gun to rest aside.

“You.” (Y/N) bit out shakily, more frightened than they would’ve liked it to sound. Their invasion of Connor’s space did not bothered him in the least, much less the finger that jabbed at his chest roughly.

The park is empty with the exception of them. The cold winds of February are enough to complement the tension stretching thin between the android and detective.

“Me.” The RK900 stated unaffectedly.

The branches of trees gently swayed with the currents, oblivious.

(Y/N) looked away, seemingly deciding to not finish what they had in mind. Then, with a small glance, they whispered.

“You will never be like him.”

Connor’s hands closed up but otherwise he didn’t do anything else.

The silence stretched into an eternity, time became incoherent and the world around them didn’t matter anymore.

“So stop. Stop pretending you are him.”

The look of rage that washed over his features should’ve been enough to warn (Y/N) about what would happen next.

The android set into motion, closing up the space that separated him from them. His arms wrapped arpund (Y/N) in a not so gentle embrace, painful, pressing them up to his chest. He was not planning on letting them go any time soon. He was going to do anything and everything to have them for his own. Connor would not have them back.

Connor was dead.

“I hate repeating myself (Y/N).” He hissed, not budging in their attempts to squirm out of his hold. Their arms were trapped in between both, rendering them useless and furthermore leading them to a dead end.

“You are mine. Forget Connor. I am your Connor-“

“Stop saying that.”

“You will see that I’m better. You and I (Y/N). You and I.”

“Stop.”

“Connor can’t and won’t be back. I killed him with my own hands after all.”

“No...”

“It wasn’t difficult to implant a ‘fault’ in his systems. I made sure Cyberlife ended the RK800.”

(Y/N) slumped in his hold, banging a weak fist on his chest. Resolve diminishing. Hopes fading.

“Why are you doing this?” They asked softly, almost fusing with the gentle whispers of the wind that ruffled their hair in its path.

The RK900’s eyes gleamed maliciously.

“Because there was no other way to-“ Connor suddenly grimaced, eyes roaming around wildly. (Y/N) watched as the words died in his mouth, a small trickle of blue blood that contrarested remarkably against his skin tone, starting its trek down his mouth, chin and neck to disappear into the hem of his sweater.

He tried to speak, mouthing intelligible words but ending up gurgling out more blood, body convulsing erratically before, with a final cough of thirium, collapsing back. (Y/N)’s eyes unfocused momentarily, mind trying to keep up with what just had happened.

Behind him, stood Connor, the real Connor. Albeit a little mangled and barefoot. The Cyberlife uniform was gone, exchanged for what held resemblance with hospital scrubs. His hair was still combed to the side neatly and in his hand he held what could, without fail, be recognized as a thirium pump regulator, Biocomponent #8451, swimming over a layer of blood that extended up to Connor’s elbow, matting the thin cloth to his arm.

The biocomponent landed with a clatter on a spot next to the RK900, unmoving.

“(Y/N).” The gentle way which he had spoken that word set the world right once again.

The difference between the RK800 and 900 suddenly seemed as clear as water, and just the act of meeting gazes with him, that soft, brown, and kind gaze, wore all the fear and helplesness away.

The android took a step forward, hesitant, arms still reaching out into thin air.

“Finn. I’ve checked his vital signs and called medical assistance.” He sputtered, the desperation to close the space, the need to be sure that they were not going to break, all of those emotions broadcasting in his eyes so openly.

So (Y/N) closed it, clinging onto Connor like their lives depended on it. The sobs that shook their form had the android tightening his hug, turning them away to not face his dead counterpart anymore.

“It’s okay (Y/N)... I’m here... It’s over...” His words were hushed, delicate, reassuring. If someone else was to be watching the interaction, they would think that Connor was no less human. The emotions on his face were so complex that it was impossible to deem him as a robot.

“It’s not okay.” (Y/N) clamored between tears.

Connor tipped his head back, looking up at the starry sky that filled the night with constellations. His hand, devoid with blood, rubbed slow circles on their back.

“It might not be, although I suppose it could’ve been worse don’t you think?”

He is human and he is alive. He is Connor, an RK800 that had done the impossible to somehow stop the extinction of his model and save his loved one from a living nightmare.

He is Connor.

***

Tag list:

@glitch-girl318

[walkingdeadfan25]

Medicine

Fandon: The Walking Dead

Character: Carl Grimes

"Widows, especially ones that look like that.....whew they are....special. I love 'em. Right after their husbands go they are just empty inside. But usually not for long.", Negan says as he chuckles.

"Ahh. Now where is she? I would love to see her."

"Do you care to pay your respects?", a voice says from behind him. Negan turns around in surprise. "Holy crap! You are creepy as shit, sneaking up on me, wearin' that collar with that freaky ass smile." Father Gabriel continues to smile as he apologizes and introduces himself. Negan looks to Rick with a look of slight disappointment. He asks if she didn't make it, believing Gabriel's on-the-spot thinking. Rick, still giving Negan the 'side-eye', gives him a remorseful look as they head to Maggie's 'grave'.

"It's a damn tragedy. That's what this is.", Negan replies not really giving a shit aboit how one might feel considering the circumstances. He goes on about how it sucked he had to kill her husband and then saying how he wanted to take her back with him. "I know what you're thinking. How can I have a shot, the guy that just bashed her husband's head in? Haha you'd be surprised. Boy, people, they-", all the sudden he's cut off by a gun going off. They all turn then with Negan giving Rick a look that screams 'you better hope you're people haven't fucked up again'.

They quickly run to where the sound came from. As they enter the house they find Carl holding a gun at some of Negan's men. "Carl, Carl, put it down."

In a deadly calm voice he replies, "No. He's taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff."

"Of course. Oh ho. Really kid?" Carl looks at him with a voice that says 'I'm done with your shit' replies, "And you should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

Negan looks at him with amusement in his eyes, "Well, pardon me, young man. Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but..... did you just threaten me? Look, I get threatening Davey here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me." Rick interupts pleading his son to put down the gun, fearing for everyone's lives but Negan isn't having it.

"Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here. Now boy, where were we?", Carl continues to stare down Negan not blinking an eye. Before Negan can continue they hear creaking coming from behind them as a soft and scratchy voice calls out. "Carl", coughing interupts the person before they finish, "Everything ok? I heard a gun shot."

Everyone in the room looks behind Carl as a female around the age of eighteen stumbles around the corner holding the wall for support. She was short and due to being sick was frail looking. Her hair, a dark chestnut brown and curly falling down her waist, hung slightky knotted around her swinging with her movements. Her normally vibrant blue eyes werr dull grey and blood shot and her pale skin had a sickly hue. To anyone she looked like one of the dead almost.

*Aurora POV*

Aurora is jolted awake by the sound of a gun going off down stairs. She has been sick with sone flu virus for a couple days now. Carl has been taking care of his fiancée to ensure she gets better. She struggles to stand almost falling over. Her body too weak to hold her up and her high fever is making her dizzy, not helping by way of moving arpund without Carl. She makes her way slowly down the stairs, hearing voices. She calls out to Carl as she rounds the corner.

*End of POV*

Carl rushes to Aurora's side gently holding her frail body in order to keep her standing. He gently lays the back of his hand against her forehead, ignoring the men staring at him in slight confusion. "Aurora! You're still burning up! You need to get back to bed." As he goes to pick up Negan says, "Oh no we're not done here let's finish this."

Carl reluctantly moves closer, Aurora clinging onto his arm in fear of Negan. Carl gently presses a kiss to her forehead meant to reassure her. She settles closer to his side. "Now we were just talking about your giant man sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't want to go hard proving a point here, not in front of your sister."

"She's not my sister. She's my fiancée." Negan lets out an indignant laugh. "That she is.", he says as he spots the nice but simple ring on the female's ring finger. It was Lori's but Rick gave it to Carl to give to whomever he decided to marry if he married. "Anyway, you don't want that, I don't want that. So tell me, why were you threatening my men?"

"Look, I just want my fiancée to get better. In order to do that I need medicine. The medicine in which your men are taking All of, not half. So leave some so I can take care of her."

"I said half your shit, and half is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again? Maybe to your sick little fiancée who hell, I'd probably be doing a service? I mean she looks like the damn dead out there. How do you get it up looking at that? Hell how do you even have sex with it? Do you put a bag over its head?"

"She's sick you asshole, she's not suppose to look like a damn model and she’s my fiancee, show her some respect!”

Negan has the decency to look slightly bashful. “Sorry kid. I should have more respect for your girl.” He goes over to Davey an riffles through the contents around them. He grabs two bottles and a foil packet that has some pills in it. “Here’s some antibiotics, fever reducers/ pain relief and to ensure there’s not a slight chance of any little ones running around that look like her, some birth control. Now don’t say I’m not a nice guy and haven’t done anything for you. I should kill your girl but I don’t want to soil my pretty girl Lucille with her diseased blood. So off you go, take your  ugly ass diseased woman with you back to the ditch she crawled from.” Carl moves to punch Negan but Aurora pulls him back.

“Thank you Negan for your generosity. Perhaps as a thank you once I am not ill, I can make you a nice scarf to keep you warm during the cold weather that’s coming?”

“Sure darlin’. I’ll hold you to it.” With a wave of his hand, he dismisses Carl. Carl turns to Aurora and pus a hand under her knees and then behind her back, moving as slowly as he can to keep her from becoming dizzy. She wraps her hands around his neck, snuggling into his warmth in order to fight off the chills from the fever. “You’re fever is higher than when I last checked. We need to lower it.”

“No, please not the tub. It makes me feel worse.”, she begs. “I know Aura, I don’t want to but I need to make sure you get better. You’re fever is too high and needs to be lower.” As he reaches their room, he gently sets her on the bed.

“I’ll tell you what, I will make sure the water is lukewarm but please don’t fight me.”, he asks as he enters the ensuite bathroom and begins to run her bath. As the tub fills, he pours in her favorite scent of vanilla and mint. “W-Will you join me?”, she asks in a small voice as tears gently fall down her cheeks. He kneels in front of her as he wipes away her tears. “Of course.”, he replies with a smile. He begins undressing and despite being sick, she enjoys the show. Once he’s in his boxers he turns to her. 

He gently removes the socks from her chilled feet, moving to the waist band of her black cotton shorts. He moves her arms carefully through his favorite navy blue long sleeved shirt. He eases it over her head and takes a moment to look down her torso, noticing a few of her ribs have began to poke through and a new bruise has formed on her right side. “How did you get this?” “I did it in my sleep. I’ll be fine when I get better.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to it. He then presses a light kiss to each rib, breathing a ‘sorry’ into the skin. Aurora laces a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s just cause I am not able to keep food down.” Carl lays his head against her bare thighs, her hand running through the soft strands. He presses a quick kiss to her thigh and stands up, moving her to the bathroom. He sets her on the edge of the big tub and turns the water off. Then he sets her in the bath.

She waits for the slight pain from the cold water against her heated skin. However, she is pleasantly surprised by the little over room temperature water. She sighs in content, “Thank you.” Before he gets in, Carl grabs one of the fever reducers and Aurora’s glass of water from the bed-side table. “Here, go ahead and take this so hopefully by the time we get out it will kick in.” He sets the glass on the bathroom sink’s counter after she swallows the pill. He slides into the water, his body thankful for the slightly cool water. He puts his legs on the outside of hers. He moves her hair over one of her shoulders and presses a few kisses against the burning skin on her left shoulder. He notices the ends of her long dark waves are floating in the water.

“May I see your hair tie. I’m going to put up your hair, the ends are wet and can make you more sick.” She holds up her left wrist and he removes the elastic band and puts it around his wrist. He gathers her long silky tresses into a bun atop her head and secures it with the hair tie. “Later if you’re feeling better, I’ll braid your hair.”, he says as he gently pulls her back to his chest. He moves so his back is against the tub. Aurora gently turns so she is on her side and snuggles into Carl. They sit in the water, the sweet and sharp smell of vanilla and mint filling their nostrils. After a while the water gets to be too cold for them both. Carl gets out and grabs a towel. He quickly dries off and removes his soaking boxers. He wraps the towel around his waist as he goes to their vanity drawers, grabbing Aurora some clean, dry underwear, her favorite pair of leggings and one of his shirts. 

“Carl can I wear the flannel you had on?”

“You sure? It might be sweaty, I have been wearing it all day.”

“True but it smells like you and your scent comforts me. Plus, I know you’ve got to go back out there, so I want something that smells like you. Your pillows lost your scent.”

Carl looks at her apologetically as he retrieves his discarded flannel. He sets it with the other clothes. He grabs her a towel and helps her dry off. He kneels, sliding his fingers in the elastic of her underwear and guides them down her legs. He sets them next to his wet boxers. Carl grabs the dry underwear and leggings, guiding them up her legs to rest snugly against her hips. He stands and reaches around her back and unclips her bra, sliding it down her arms, he tosses it into the wet pile. He guides her arms through his favorite flannel and buttons it up. He notices how the blue of the fabric make her eyes shine impossibly blue. 

He picks her up, lays her in the bed and moves to gather himself some clothes. Once he is dressed, he tucks her into their bed. “I’m feeling a lot better Carl. Thank you for everything. Do you think when you get back later I can maybe try to eat some soup?” “Of course. I love you and I’ll be back shortly.” “I love you too, my dear.”, with a kiss on her forehead, he leaves. Aurora snuggles into the blankets, burying her nose into Carl’s flannel, breathing in his scent as she slowly falls asleep.