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vikkisixxpixx · 8 months

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Originally wrote this as a scenario for my Motley Crue DR (shifter rep), decided to post it since there's a severe lack of this kink in bandfic

To clarify, I am a cardiophile. UrbanDictionary describes cardiophilia as "the act of being obsessed with the heart," though personally, I prefer the term "fascinated." Depending on the person, it can be sexual or nonsexual (it's both for me), however, since this is a smut, this will be focused on the sexual aspect. Now, as the song says, on with the show.

Dr. Feelgood

(Source)

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Suki Taylor (my DR self), is in first person from the perspective of Suki Word Count: 1,236 Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ content), cardiophilia/heartbeat kink, medfet, fingering f!receiving, piv sex (protection not mentioned because I forgot, could go either way in your imagination), multiple orgasms (on the part of Suki), explicit language, mentions of alcohol (in passing), nicknames, a very corny joke mid-tango, lmk if I missed anything. Don't like? Don't read. Extra Notes: we needed more of this kink anyway. also Quiet Riot's Cum On Feel The Noize came on shuffle when I wrote the second orgasm and I still find it hilarious Based on: Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue (in name), the horny thoughts I got after viewing the attached photo No beta, we die like real men

Nikki sighs as he sits next to me on the tour bus. Tommy’s at a payphone calling Heather, while Mick and Vince are having a few drinks on the bus.

“If I don’t have one night away from Tommy, I’m gonna fuckin’ scream,” Nikki breaks the silence. “He’s about to drive me batshit crazy!”

I stifle a giggle. “Do you wanna get a hotel for tonight?” I ask. “You have another show here tomorrow.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek. “That is an amazing idea.”

It’s about an hour later that the two of us are checked into a room at some chain hotel; not sleazy, but definitely not the Ritz.

“It’ll look like shit after we’re done anyway,” Nikki says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

I snicker, rolling my suitcase to the corner of the room. “I wish the show wasn’t so soon. Then we could…”

He stalks over to me before lightly brushing his fingertips down my arm. “I don’t have to go.”

I laugh slightly. “You’re in one of the most popular bands in the world. You’re not missing a show!”

He plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. “Maybe later I can do something special for you.”

I smirk. “I’d love nothing more.” I give him a quick kiss before saying, “Now, you need to go.”

He kisses me again before walking out the door.

The show, like usual, is very loud and very successful. But, for the first time I’ve ever seen, Nikki is ecstatic to get off stage.

As we’re walking out to the car the venue lent us, he throws an arm around me. “Ya know, babe, I think that was my best performance yet.”

“What makes you say that, honey?”

“Because I played the best I could so I could go back to the hotel as fast as I can.”

I laugh at his comment as the two of us get in the car.

The drive to the hotel is largely quiet, though the sexual tension is palpable.

“I’ve got a surprise in my suitcase,” Nikki speaks in a singsong voice as we enter our room.

“You do, do you?” I ask with my eyebrow quirked.

“Mhmm. Go in the bathroom and don’t come out ‘til I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a smirk. He chuckles and smacks my ass as I walk away.

It’s a silent moment later that I hear, “The doctor will see you now, Miss Taylor.”

“Dr. Feelgood?”

I walk into the room to find Nikki wearing a white coat—and only a white coat—with a stethoscope around his neck.

“Yeah, I heard you’ve been under the weather, Miss Taylor,” he says with a devious smirk.

I giggle. “Yes, Doctor, I’ve been feeling very, very sick.” I fall onto the bed dramatically with a hand on my chest.

“What seems to be the trouble, Miss Taylor?”

“My heart just feels all sorts of funny, Doctor.” I blush when I realize what I’ve said.

Without wasting a second, Nikki walks over. “Hmm, sounds like I should check that out.” In one swift move, the stethoscope is gone from his neck and has found a new place, with one end on my chest.

A few silent seconds pass before I blurt out, “That thing’s not even real, is it?”

Nikki chuckles. “You bet your ass it is.” He smirks as we both feel my heart rate skyrocket. A blush makes its way across my cheeks as he says, “Now that is interesting. Take a deep breath for me, would ya, babe?”

My stomach does flips at the way it sounds when he says that sentence, but I obey nonetheless.

He listens silently for a moment. “Miss Taylor, could I get you to be my guinea pig for a second?”

“Of course, Dr. Feelgood,” I reply. “What do I need to do?”

“Just stay still for me.” He plants one of his signature sloppy kisses on my lips, listening to the effect it has on my heart. “Hmm, just like I thought. I gotta operate, Miss Taylor. Now. With your permission, of course.”

“Oh, absolutely, Doctor. Is there anything I need to do?” I ask as dramatically as I can.

“Let me do all the work for you.” He kisses me again before slipping my battle vest off to hit the floor, followed by my tank top.

With more of my chest exposed, he starts placing kisses on every inch of my bare skin, occasionally just above my heart, which is the only time he moves the stethoscope. Each one earns a moan.

“Beautiful sounds, baby,” Nikki says between kisses. “From your mouth and your heart. Got one more in you?”

He slinks a finger past my shorts and underwear after his words, curling it inside me; an action which elicits the loudest moan I’ve let out so far.

“Good girl. Mind if I take these off?”

My brain is already so foggy from pleasure that the only thing I can do is release an affirming noise before my shorts and panties join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. With them out of the way, another slender finger joins the first one.

“Fuck, Nikki!” I shout.

He chuckles. “I will, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” His white coat falls to the floor before he removes his fingers to put them in his mouth. “You are delicious.”

Before I can even think about his statement, he’s got me in a new position on the bed, before thrusting himself inside me.

I let out another “Fuck!” as Nikki starts finding a rhythm. I can only imagine the sounds filling the earpieces of the stethoscope as he’s fucking the daylights out of me.

“How does it feel, Princess?” he growls. “How does it feel knowing I’m fucking your pretty pussy to the beat of your own poor little heart?”

“Feels good!” I manage to moan out, my body bouncing with his every move.

He chuckles. “And that’s why they call me Dr. Feelgood. Because I’m the one to make you feel alright.”

Normally I would’ve laughed at his joke, but I’m so cock-drunk by this point that my only response is to throw my head back and mewl.

It’s hardly even a second later that I feel the telltale knot of an orgasm building in my stomach. “Fuck, I’m gonna— Aah!”

Nikki chuckles once more. “Go ahead and let yourself cum, Miss Taylor.”

A scream of “Nikki!” comes out as I give in to the pleasure.

As my body quivers beneath him, his thrusts start to become unsteady.

“Nikki, I wanna listen to your heart while you cum,” I whine.

He smirks and quickly switches the stethoscope around. Now my ears are filled with the beautiful sound of his heartbeat. A moment of counting reveals it to be at 130 beats per minute.

“Fuck, Nikki, your heart’s racing,” I blurt out.

“It’s cuz I love you so much.”

His unsteady thrusts paired with the sound of his heart in my ears is enough to send me over the edge again, and the two of us climax in sync.

Panting fills the air as neither of us say anything at first. After a moment, Nikki takes the stethoscope and puts it back on me.

“Your heart sounds like a fuckin’ jackhammer, babe.”

I slap his arm playfully. “Shut up!”

#mine #nikki sixx #motley crue fanfic #motley crue #mötley crüe #mötley crüe fanfic #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fic #motley crue smut #mötley crüe smut #nikki sixx smut #vikkisixxfixx

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weirdsociology · 1 year

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Distractions (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Distractions (6.6k)

Series: Part one of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction.

Description: An artifact from the Mandalorian's past leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex toys, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied violence, spit, a touch of size kink, light manhandling, very mild D/s in all directions because we love a switch in this house, no betas we die like men, canon what canon

Tropes: hurt/comfort, idiots with feelings, angst but it all works out in the end, the helmet stays on

Author's note: I blacked out, I don't know what happened, and frankly I'm embarrassed that the first fanfic I've written in 20 years is kind of fluffy and not significantly more insane. This little offering is canon timeline-agnostic; I just wanted to give our armored dumbass a happy ending. Please don't think this reflects my personality, I am spiritually covered in the blood of my enemies at all times. Also there is one small bit of truth from my personal life in here and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't flashbangs, it was bayonets. This one is for @tarabyte3 who got me excited about what fanfiction can do again.

***

Sometimes, it's hard to sleep in hyperspace. A ship this old doesn't have the automated circadian rhythm programs that dim the lights according to species preference, and all the daylight bulbs are second-hand, their blueness dimmed by repeated use. Darkness is in plentiful supply, but that's only half the equation of an artificial night. You do your best, careful to check the time reads on the navigational display, and adhere to a schedule as much as you can. It helps give structure to long periods of transit, and you know that ten years from now, your body and mind will thank you for being careful to guard their rest.

The Mandalorian, by contrast, doesn't have a diurnal cycle as far as you've been able to tell. His sleep patterns are pure anarchy, having nothing to do with mood or physical need. Sometimes he'll spend a week getting no more rest than a few brief, truncated minutes on the ground after trekking in harsh terrain. Sometimes you'll go looking for him after a quiet stretch in flight and he'll be in the bed he calls his rack, completely dormant for the next fourteen standard hours. You don't know how he does it. He lives like someone who fully expects to die before their body has enough years to register protest - which on the one hand makes you anxious, and on the other you find it hard to blame him for.

Still, despite all your attendance to regularity, there are nights - times - when you can't sleep. Especially when you are headed past the Outer Rim, and the length of travel means nothing to do except read and watch holovideos you've already seen and eat stale food and exercise in cramped, artificial repetition. Nothing new to look at, nothing new to do.

Which is how you end up awake at this hour, dressed in nothing but your bandeau and shorts with goosebumps pebbling your legs as you lean over one of the big crates in the cargo bay. You're digging through the thermoplastic case that holds the Mandalorian's personal possessions, looking for one of the old holonovels you're sure he has stowed, when you find it. A smooth, round black cylinder with a cap on each end. At first, you suspect it's yet another esoteric firearm - but then why isn't it in the weapons locker above?

Curious, you gingerly remove the cap from one end. Life on the ship has taught you to be cautious about any unfamiliar object. You don't know if it's normal Mandalorian living style to have to shove aside a mountain of electronic flashbangs when looking for clean blankets, but it's certainly normal for this one.

What's inside isn't like any weapon you've ever seen. The cylinder is filled with something soft and yielding, silicone or plastisilk you think, and it gives disconcertingly when you brush a thumb over it. There's a small bore in the middle about the diameter of your finger, but the polymer feels like it would stretch. It's textured near where the cap would fit, small ridges inside and a gentle flowering of protuberances around the borehole. Almost like -

You stand up, unsure whether to blush or laugh, and snap the cap back on. You've certainly found something new this time; something that might help break the monotony of space travel if you approach the topic - and Mando - correctly. If you're right there should be something else nearby, something that would make this a little more... usable.

There is. A discreet bottle, neatly wrapped in plain paper.

You take cylinder and bottle and step out in the corridor from the bay, checking the location of your fellow crew. Mando is not in his rack or the lockers, which means he's in the cockpit. The Child is in his usual nest. It's late, and the kid should be asleep for a long while yet. You jam the - the toy, you suppose - and the bottle into one hand and climb your way up the ladder, half appalled at your boldness and half delighted at the thought of making your Mandalorian squirm for once. You're secretly hoping to catch him out, tease him with the evidence of his private sexual habits, a friendly nip around the edges of his Creed.

"Look what I found," you say as you approach the pilot's chair. His head is turned away from you, bent over something in the navcomp, his long legs in front of him as stretched out as they can be in the small space. He hums an acknowledgement and takes a moment to finish entering something before he looks over his shoulder. You offer the cylinder to him flat across your palms, like a knight offering a loyal blade, which you hope is both funny and at least a little charming.

It doesn't work. He's still looking at you. You wave it in front of him instead, resisting the urge to waggle your eyebrows. The helmet drops to consider the cylinder, then you. "I'd forgotten I had that. Where did you find it?"

You stop, hands still outstretched. "Forgot-- your crate in the cargo bay, but... is this what I think it is?"

Mando can't raise his own eyebrows at you, but his chin twitches upward in the way you've learned to interpret is the same thing. "Do you think it's a cock sleeve? Because it is."

"Is that what you call it?"

"I've always been less concerned about what to call it than how to use it," he says. He's fully turned to face you now. The conversation is not going as you imagined. You flush and he gives you an appraising look, taking in your half-undressed state.

"Isn't that... Against your Creed?" How does he do this. How does he always turn the tables. How is it you're the one quailing under the calm scrutiny of his helmet. You'd meant this as a good-natured ribbing, not a come-on, but suddenly you're picturing what you were decidedly not thinking about earlier - Mando, years ago, alone in his rack or fresh from a hunt, with his beskar still on and his arming jacket rucked up, screwing the toy down onto himself with his fist. The thought makes heat pool between your legs. It also makes you a little melancholy. Suddenly you want to fuck him and hold him in equal measure.

"You weren't always here, you know," he says calmly, honest and unembarrassed as he is shockingly honest and unembarrassed about everything to do with sex. He reaches for you, captures your wrists, pulls you further into the cockpit and down into his lap. You thrill as always at his casual possessiveness, his desire to be close. At the breadth of his shoulders under your hands. "The Creed isn't against pleasure, only distraction. Sometimes it's more distracting to make your body suffer than to give it what it wants."

"Like me?" you ask. It's a joke that once would have stung, an echo of your first night together - you are nothing to me but a distraction from my work - but it's an old wound, long since rubbed over by the smooth edges of time and shared affection.

An amused huff through the modulator. "Like you," he agrees, and though the helmet dampers every inflection you now know, where once you only imagined, the statement is fond.

***

You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well. You were now fucking the Mandalorian regularly, enthusiastically, and, at least to you, inadequately. Regardless of how well you took him, how perfectly he fit when he slicked and stretched his way into you, your heart hammered the same rhythm: no room, no room. His attitude toward you had made that abundantly clear. There was no room for you in his life, on his ship, in his Creed. You were his... distraction. That's all.

You mostly ignored it. When you were working or hunting, you barely thought about it. You pushed the thought down and stored it away to keep from slicing yourself on its sharp edges. But there were moments when it pressed forward again, tumbling out of the drawer of your heart in disarray. The Mandalorian was behind you or over you or under you and you were crying out the name you knew him by even as your blood rushed in your ears demanding more. Not more sex, not more of the heavy punch of his hips against you or the feeling of his hands in your hair, but more of him. You wanted him. You wanted everything.

You wanted to know what it kriffing meant when he called you his distraction.

And sometimes, after you had been fucked within an inch of your life and left lying on your bunk or still pressed against the weapons locker, it hurt a breathtaking amount.

You were pretty sure the Mandalorian was not unaware of how he affected you. Beyond that first epithet which became routine, he was not intentionally cruel. Away from the heat that flared between you and his resentment at his own inability to ignore it, he was considerate and distant and respectful. Unfailingly polite. You loathed every moment of it with a growing bitterness that threatened to replace food and sleep. It reminded you of the time you'd run into a recruiter after she’d turned you down for a job. Sorry kid, you had your chance to convince me and you blew it. Except Mando, being Mando, had never given you a chance at all.

It was worse when you fucked. For weeks, you had resolved over and over to put an end to his careful handling of you. Better an angry rebuttal or cold silence than... whatever this pitiful halfway connection was. Next time he approached you with that weight in his step or crowded you into a corner, too close, you would force his hand. You knew that was the time to do it, when you had his full attention and the bargaining chip of your body. You'd seize his wandering gaze and stare into the helmet: "Why do you call me a distraction?"

You had told yourself this a dozen times. But his practiced fingers were already slipping inside you and all you could do was whine as his modulated voice, sounding not quite human, breathed a word that meant nothing to you in your ear: Mesh'la, mesh'la, mesh'la.

***

You had entreated him to show you how he used it, before you joined his crew. Before, as he drily puts it while running a gloved hand up your thigh and teasing along the waistband of your shorts, he had a far superior array of options. Now you're mostly naked in the dim light, seated between his spread legs, his helmet tipped against the headrest as he leans back. You're watching the arched column of his throat, watching his gloved fingers wrapped around the cylinder and most of all, watching his thick cock disappear into the plush expanse of the toy. He's hard but not fully erect, probably because you refused to touch him until you got to see him touch himself. Not that you needed to threaten - you both know that Din, and it's Din now, in the privacy of the cockpit with both of you partially undressed and warmth radiating from him, will deny you nothing where his body is concerned. Except, of course, his face.

His cock is stirring to full attention, and you suspect it has more to do with your rapt gaze on him than his own ministrations. It's a novelty for you to watch him for once. The way you two fuck, he normally has the better view, pulling back to see your cunt swallow his length and hear you moan in gratitude. He likes to watch you touch yourself while you're speared on him, chasing your own orgasm as you clench. He likes to see your thighs tremble when you ride him, and your face when he makes you come too much. "One more, mesh'la, one more for me, let me see you," he'll croon, as one hand worships your sore clit and the other bats away your arm as you try to bury your face in the crook of your elbow. Din likes to watch anything that shows him how good he makes you feel.

Your Mandalorian might be on to something, you decide. Watching certainly has its appeal. You can hear the soft slide of the toy, see the tension in his forearms and his stomach even through his tunic, his breath through the helmet fast but even. He looks gorgeous like this, a warrior half-undone for your enjoyment. You slide the palms of your hands up his thighs and run them lightly along the bare skin peeking through where he's partially shucked himself of armor and clothing. His breathing alters a little, hitching as your skin makes contact with his.

"How does it feel?" you ask, watching the steady rise and fall of the cylinder. You idly trace a finger up his groin and along the sensitive skin just under his sack. He hisses, and you twitch in response to the noise you know so well, your cunt giving a little spasm as if to remind you of its needs.

After a moment, Din answers your question. "Tight, but not warm. Better than nothing but... Like a ration bar when I have a meal right in front of me," he adds pointedly, and one booted foot slides between your folded knees, leather rubbing along the seam of your sex to make his point clear. "I like that you like looking at me, but we could have bought a mirror instead. I could be fucking you in front of it right now."

Your cheeks warm as you think about it: Din, arching over your back, holding your chin, making you watch your own face as he nudges the head of his cock into you. You don't know how you'd feel staring at yourself like that, but your cunt twitches again, letting you know that more important parts of you fully approve of the concept. The helmet has dropped back down. He's observing your reaction. You file the idea away for later. "I like seeing you like this, though. Did you really never use it after you met me?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I used it. Before... when you were first here. I used it so much I think I did permanent damage."

A little shiver of heat winds up from the base of your spine. This is new information. But he's not done. "Which is why I should be allowed to show you how much I appreciate you, not this plastic junk." He makes a show of slowing down, grinding up into the toy and letting out an exaggerated groan. You know he's still watching you closely, waiting for his cue.

You give him a wicked grin. "Sometimes... it's more distracting to make your body suffer than give it what it wants." Din groans for real in response, but you have other things on your mind. "Back before... when you... were you thinking of me?"

He makes an uninterpretable noise. "Oh no, mesh'la, I wasn't thinking of you. Only of your hips. And your hair. And your tits. And your ass. And your cunt, and if I could get you wet for me, and what that pretty mouth would look like around me, and how you'd sound when I put my cock down your throat."

"... Fuck," you say breathlessly. What started as a flutter has become an aching, empty pulse. "Fuck, Din," and you lean forward, bringing your face almost close enough to nuzzle where he's still sheathed in the toy, breathing in his scent. It has the unintended effect of driving the tip of his boot further into you, a solid mass pushing on the thrumming bundle of nerves between your legs.

When you first started doing this, he said very little to you. You could read nothing in his body except desire and frustration, both of which he extinguished in the furnace of your sex. Later, after Mos Eisley, when anger was no longer the single note of your shared existence, he talked to you constantly. The man of few words outside the ship became the man of many words when he was buried inside you. He told you what he was going to do to you, what he wanted to do to you, how good you felt and what you did to him. He talked like he was trying to construct a gilded cage of words you wouldn't fly away from. You had been dumbfounded by the change, shy and unsure, unable to find a way to reassure him you had already stooped to his lure. Part of you was afraid that if he knew the truth - that you'd have him any way he wanted, silent or talkative or babbling in Tuskan sign - he would stop. He hadn't, but the stream had slowed. More deliberate, less frantic. Somehow even more indecent.

He's being indecent right now, timing the strokes of the toy with his words. "I wanted you every morning and twice at night." Down. "I couldn't think - could barely shoot straight." Back up. "I wanted to bend you over the crates and fuck you until you felt the same." A slow slide back down. "Fill you up with me until you cried, until you knew you were mine, until that sweet cunt wouldn't want anyone else." Up, until just the tip of him is still out of sight. He's losing his even tone, the modulator turning gasps into static. "And then I did fuck you, and it got so much worse. You let me pull you open and put my cock in the hottest, wettest place in the galaxy and-- are you really going to come on my boot instead of letting me fuck you?"

You come to with a little start, pulled aware by the abrupt shift in subject. There's dampness under you, and you realize you've been rocking back and forth on his boot, rubbing the folds of your cunt against the worn leather, and moaning into his lap while he talks. It feels so good to be here, sitting at his feet as he strokes himself for you, hearing the jagged details of your shared past transformed by pleasure. The scruff of the boot against you, the bite of a seam into your tenderest flesh, the smell - steel and old smoke and hot sand - so uniquely Mandalorian it has you panting for him.

"Din," you breathe. "Stop -- stop. I want to feel you."

That's all it takes. The toy is gone in an instant, he's off the pilot's chair and dragging you upright and his half-bare hips are against yours, crowding you into the console. His cock is painfully hard against you, already smeared with precum and the lubricant that makes someone of his size using a toy like that even possible. You realize with dizzy delight that this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you without preamble, pushing his way in, making you feel every inch of his invasion. The pleasurable burn of your cunt adjusting to his girth will be revenge for making him use the toy - a revenge he knows you will enjoy.

More leather, this time at your mouth. The feel of his glove as he curls his fingertips under your chin. "Spit," he commands, and you do.

"Good girl. Now turn around."

***

It was after the first time he'd had you in the cockpit that you'd found the courage to ask. It had already been one of the worst days of your life, what more was there to lose? You were so numb there was no cliff you wouldn't jump off, no risk you wouldn't take. If you asked and the answer was indifference, well, it was just one more pain to add to the litany: your cracked lips, your shredded feet, your bruised ribs, your bloodied hands. And soon, maybe, your broken heart.

Mando had left, as he always did, after you were done, leaving you on the steel floor mostly naked and entirely without the desire to stand on your own. You told yourself that you would simply sleep there, if you had to, rather than getting back up on your cut soles. After all, you'd slept in worse places recently. Though you'd meant it to be fierce the thought sounded pathetic even to you.

The sound of boots climbing up the ladder interrupted your self-pity. Mando had not only come back, he had come back with a box: the medkit he kept in a crate in the cargo bay. He knelt beside you on the floor and started to lift you to him, one hand on your back and one hand under your knees. It was close and familiar in the worst possible way, like the fuck wasn't, and you made a hoarse inhuman noise and tried to kick him. You slammed a broken toe into a beskar vambrace instead and then you screamed for real.

He was patient with you and you hated it with every aftershock of white-hot rage in your body. You struggled even once he managed to get you up in his arms. After a bad moment where you thought you might actually try to bite him, he stopped attempting to haul you down the ladder and dropped both of you into the pilot's chair abruptly instead, pulling his hands away like you'd burned him. "Hey, it's me, just me, the one who's on your side," he'd said, attempting a touch of humor, and strangely it was the buzz of the modulator, so unlike the voices you'd been hearing for the past few days, that had incrementally slowed your galloping heart.

The medkit was in reach and at first he was gentle but even that was too much. You pulled away without leaving the chair, putting distance between you and that damned helmet. All you wanted was to rest, except you were afraid of what you might have time to think about if you did. There was a tense minute as he resumed his work with gauze and tape and bacta spray, but even in your exhausted state you somehow felt him make the decision to stop trying to be tender. He took your cue and bandaged you with impersonal efficiency, like you were a soldier in his regiment or a fellow Mandalorian. It made his touch tolerable, and you were so tired you almost resented him for it.

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep. You heard the click of the medkit closing and, calmer now, a little more returned to yourself, braced for him to lift you down the ladder. But he surprised you by making no move to get up, resting his hands on his legs, around you but not on you. You could tell he was waiting for something but not what. Maybe it was something from you, but you were all out of give. It was his turn.

Another moment of silence, then momentary confusion as you both spoke at once:

"I have to tell you so--"

"Mandalorian, why are you--"

He stopped. You pressed on. "Why are you always calling me a distraction?" Your tone was flat. You sounded like you could be asking about the price of power cells.

The helmet twisted. This was clearly not the direction he expected your post-coital, post-triage conversation to take. "Because you're distracting."

You thought anger might be the only thing keeping you upright. "Not good enough. What the fuck are we even doing here? Why did you come after me? You told me we were done, that you didn't owe me anything. You could have left me there and pocketed the bounty for yourself. They would have let me go once they convinced themselves I didn't have the information.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “That doesn't sound like I'm just a distraction."

"I said you're distracting, and you are. That's different." You were sure he was being pedantic but your tired brain couldn't keep up with Mando at his most evasive. "You're not just a distraction. I don't make a habit of coming back for-- distractions."

Coming back for was a polite euphemism for the amount of killing Mando had done in the past few hours. None of it mattered to you if he was doing it because of his damned Creed. Maybe none of it mattered at all. Maybe you had kept your mouth shut for nothing. Your chest hurt and you had no idea if it was because of your ribs or because of your heart. You kept going.

"It makes no difference if I'm a distracting fuck or something worth coming back for or a kriffing bantha, Mando. I'm still..." Exhaustion made you blunt. "I'm still against your Creed."

He made a noise that could have been agreement, or negation. "The Creed is not against pleasure. Or companionship. Only... distractions." He sounded like he was reading out of a textbook. You'd heard it all before. You had wrung everything out of him you could about his Creed, because you wanted to find somewhere to fit. That was all he'd ever said.

He surprised you again. "Distraction is a-- it's not easy to describe. It's not as simple as wasting time or effort. Distractions are... things that pull you from your orbit without returning value, like a comet disrupting a planet's path around a sun. Too many and you begin to drift away from the tribe, the Creed, the things that make you a Mandalorian. You lose yourself chasing what streaks past you, already gone."

That little speech was probably the most words you'd ever heard Mando say at once, and there was too much there for you to process in your wasted state. You latched on instead to the thing that seemed most personally insulting, given how you'd been spending your time the past few days. "Maker, Mando, do you think that's all I am, a comet? That you'll turn around one day and I'll be gone? Do you think I did-- what I did– what we did– for fun? Do you think that's all you are to me?"

There, you had said it. Or at least implied it. Your cortisol response gave one last death rattle and suddenly you found you could sit up a little straighter, could feel your pulse in your throat. Your feet ached.

There was a long silence.

Then the Mandalorian sighed, and in that sigh was more defeat than you'd ever heard after a hunt gone wrong. The sound seized you and squeezed your breath as it stuttered in your chest. When he spoke, it was low, tired, and edged with brutal honesty. "No mesh'la. I don't think you're a comet. Not after... today."

And that, somehow, was what did you in: his surrender. The first acknowledgement of what you had endured for him and what you'd done together and what it meant between you. You dropped your face into the filthy duraweave of Mando's shoulder, not caring if you caught the edge of beskar beside it. Something boiled up in you and you weren't sure what it was, only that you snapped your mouth closed hard over a noise like being struck and fisted your hands in his tunic. All the fear you'd put aside came slamming in, the torrential wave presaged by an empty beach. You drove yourself as close as possible to your Mandalorian and shook as though a blaster bolt had found its home in your brain after all.

When you knew where you were again, you found you had shifted - or he had shifted you. You were curled between his legs, your arms still around his neck, your face against where his cheek would be in the cruel parody of a kiss. You froze for a moment, anticipating the helmet to feel hostile against your lips, but it was only Mando, the smooth silver of him that you'd come to know and expect. With sudden resolve you drew back an inch or two, away from the spot where your mouth left a sliver of fog. Your heart beat in your ears, marching steadily onward toward its inexorable conclusion. You had always known what you needed to do for both your sakes', and now you even thought you knew the bargain that could make it bearable.

"Mando," you whispered. "If that's the way it is, I wouldn't... I would never ask you to go against your Creed. I couldn't."

The warrior under you was so still you feared he might not respond at all. Then he blew out another long breath and put his hands around your waist, impossibly solid against you. It was the second time that night he'd reached for you with gentleness and, leaning against him, you could nearly imagine what it would be like to feel safe again. It would have been so easy to sink into shared delusion. But you owed him something more.

"I couldn't," you said again. "You couldn't. We could never-- it would never be right between us. I don't want that." You were certain you were crying by then, silent tears racing down your cheeks. "But please... I'm not ready yet. I'll leave tomorrow. Please, please... just give me tonight."

The hands on your waist spasmed, gripping you so hard that for one deranged instant you thought he might throw you down on the steel and fuck you all over again. He did the opposite and hauled you painfully upright, stood you in the tight space between his knees and the console. You winced when your abused feet took your weight. His own posture and the set of his shoulders told you absolutely nothing. He was still holding you like a lifeline.

"No," he said. After everything you'd done it was absurd that one word could make you want to crumple to the floor again, but you stayed upright, nails digging into the console for support. "I won't give you just tonight. I know you. You walked into that warehouse for me. You were so afraid for me you couldn't be afraid for yourself. You bled-- you killed-- because you hoped it would buy me time. I know you. Now you're offering– this. I refuse. You're not a Mandalorian, but your courage puts ours to shame. Who would I be if I returned your loyalty so little of my own?"

"Mando, what are you saying?" You were so numb with exhaustion that you weren't sure you had it in you to hope. You tried to keep your gaze steady, but you knew your eyes were wet.

"Stay with me," he said quietly. You did crumple then, your knees turned to water, and only his grip still on you kept you standing. "Stay with me, and let me prove my honor to you."

"Yes," you breathed, and that was all he needed. He hauled you to him, pulling you down, until your chest was pressed to him as he ran his gloves frantically over your neck, your shoulder blades, your hips. You rested your forehead against his, against the blood-warm beskar, and waited. You wanted nothing more than the feeling of his hands on you but you were so tired. "Will... will the tribe understand?"

A pause. He slowed, but did not stop, tracing soothing heat across your body. The blank faceplate tipped up to gaze out at the desert night. "Some will. Some won't. It doesn't matter. How I feel about you can't be against the Creed any more than my helmet. You can't turn a thing against itself." His head was still turned away, looking past the canopy to the starless sky outside. "You aren't a distraction from my Creed, mesh'la, and you never have been. You're part of it. You make me a better... a better Mandalorian."

His hesitation did not go unnoticed. You heard what he didn't say: a better man.

***

The problem with having sex in the cockpit is that when you want - no, need - to lay down afterward there isn't quite room for both of you between the chairs. Also, the floor is that textured, anti-slip steel they use for gantries, which pokes uncomfortably into bare flesh. You end up squashed together, half on top of your Mandalorian, letting his still partially-armored back take the worst of your combined weight as you roll on to your side and throw one leg over him, pillowing your head on his pauldron. It's not ideal, but after the three orgasms he pulled out of you with as much dedication as he'd ever chased down a bounty, you don't really have a choice. Going down the ladder in your current state might actually be the thing that kills you.

Din is still breathing hard from his own climax, sought only after he'd made you so sensitive that he'd had to put a callused palm over your mouth to keep you from shrieking and waking the Child. He'd started, as you thought he would, by pulling off your flimsy shorts and shoving the thick head of his cock into you with no preparation other than telling you to bend over the console and stay quiet. You'd cooperated, knowing that the position put his mouth conveniently close to your ear, and were rewarded with that smooth modulated voice telling you he was going to make sure you never made him use a toy again, never want his cock in anything but you. He told you he was going fuck you so thoroughly you'd beg for him to let you come on his cock. He'd started rough, his pace matching the coarseness of his words, and you'd bitten down your whimpers at the stretch.

But Din knew you far too well to let you off so lightly. Fast had turned to slow and deep, caging your hips with one forearm while skillful fingers lightly circled your clit, never giving you quite enough pressure to get you where you ached to go. Then you had begged, and he'd almost given in: pulled out of you abruptly, replacing his cock with three fingers after ripping off his gloves. You'd come so hard Din had groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but even that wasn't what you were hoping for and he knew it. He'd coaxed you to a second orgasm by turning you around and crudely shoving his knee between your legs, making you ride the textured cuisse on his thigh. He'd insisted you work for it, rubbing yourself against him and leaving streaks of arousal on the beskar, and that was less satisfying still. Only after you'd gotten yourself off did he ask you what you wanted, and by then you were so needy, so desperately raw and sex-drunk, that all you could do was whine, "You-- please, Din-- you." The sound of his name seemed to shred whatever last bit of composure he had left, and he'd pressed into you harder than ever as your hand dropped to provide the friction you'd needed. You'd come apart with him buried deep, your cunt gripping him like a vise, and he'd followed not long after, your name on his lips as his cock twitched and softened in you.

The nice thing about steel floors, you decide, is that they're easy to clean. You can feel Din dripping out of you and you're pretty sure you're going to leave a wet spot. You’re also pretty sure that the cylinder rolled under one of the consoles and is still jammed there, but that's a problem for later. You pull yourself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth in the shared quiet, watching the strange false light of hyperspace dance outside the canopy.

You don't notice that Din’s turned his helmet to you until he speaks. “Another 26 hours and then we’re off this boat.” He sounds relaxed, pleased both with your current configuration of tangled limbs and the prospect of no longer being confined to the ship. “Felucia is a jungle world. Plenty of frogs for the womp rat to chase.”

You grin. “Or eat. How long are we staying? Are we dropping in somewhere civilized or staying off the radar? And who are we even after? You didn’t show me the puck yet.”

“Off the radar, and this one’s a solo job.” You start to protest, but he stops you. “Really. The contact says he’s holed up in a cave in the middle of nowhere. We’ll set down in the nearest open spot, then it’s half a day overland to the hideout. No point in you coming, nothing for you and the kid to do but get wet and feed the gnats.”

After space travel, a hike doesn’t sound unpleasant, but you know he’s right. There’s no reason to go to the extra trouble of packing supplies for two more when it’s a straightforward retrieval. At least you and the Child will get to explore your landing site. You can do your work outside in the open air, and if all goes well, Din will only be gone a day or two.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’ll come back, right?” It’s only half a serious question. You trust your Mandalorian. You’ve trusted his competence and drive and ability since the moment you met him, and have learned to trust that his desire to return to you is real. Still, you always ask. It’s a private ritual between you, something soft built over top of hard truths.

You think of the times he’s left you. To work a job or on a hunt or sometimes just for the cold, hard recesses of his mind where you cannot touch him. Once, although you try not to remember it, for a black and shaking depression that terrified you both. Most of all, you think of that night, on Mos Eisley. The crunch of sand under his boots as he turned away. The glimpse of beskar through the door. The feeling of his hands on your battered ribs. His voice, very tired, I don't make a habit of coming back for distractions.

"Of course I’ll come back, mesh'la." You’ll never not thrill to Din’s electronic baritone calling you beautiful. "How could I do anything else? You're part of my Creed."

***

series masterlist

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the most interesting part of mando is how his creed doesn't constrain him specifically but requires him generally #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #this ones owes a lot to a lot of other excellent writers #thank you all for sharing your talents with me #long post #pedro pascal

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ssreeder · 3 months

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HELLO

I didnt see that there was an update until now and i dont feel like discording and i just read the new chapter so here i am with my few main points bc i dont feel like doing a full live reaction👍👍🫶

Seeing Jeeto come into play in any capacity at all makes me feel like a proud parent watching their children grow. Its always wonderful like those are my emotional support middle aged fictional men. I watched them go from conspiracy to getting crumbs to now their "dates" and gossiping together. Youve gotta love it. Those are my children. Im so proud of them. But im also scared because you killed shen so obviously my feeligns mean nothing to you 🙄😒😒. (Im never going to get over that, im going to be 80 years old in some pst apocolypic enviroment with horrors all around me, but im going to be having nightmares about shen. Ill send you my therapy bill) (im going to get a tattoo in his memory istg)

Also its always really subtle but its funny to see your specific linguistical patterns in liab esp because i can never really explain it. Like ill read a random sentence and be like 'yeah that seems like sreeder wrote it' i just think its neat.

I also really loved zukka this chapter. But i always lovr zukka so its not a surprise. But espesially this chapter because its mostly soft zukka.

"Do you think we will stay together" NO Zukko divorce 🔫🔫. 🙅🏻🔥🔥🔥🙅🏾

The 'moving forward' ness of zukka in liab is so nicely written. Like ive been reading liab since (almost) the beginning and it has been a ride and its starting to feel more conclusive and that is SCARY but its also nice because you write it very well and i adore the way you write trauma and the healing of it and the ups and downs and the two steps forward two steps backness. Its very lovely.

I knew ara was going to have a suicide attempt (esque situation (idk if that counts)) i called it i win.

Idc what others say ara will always be amazing. I love her character SO MUCH

i feel like you can always tell the strengths of a writer in the way they write complicated characters and the way you write ara is very telling of that. Like the fragility and also harshness used for her is very realistic and i always enjoy her parts so much.

Like her deciding to move on independant of how zuko or sokka feel about it is and regardless of whether people thinks she 'deserves it' is immaculate.

And thats a good example on your specific strengths as the author of liab (being able to handle delicate situations well, and realistically and make them very thought out and not rushed, stuff like that).

But her 'i need to start getting along with other girls' is great because like,, RHATS SO TRUE. she is genuienlly one of my favorite characters of all time, i could write essays on why i love her. Exquisite.

REHO MENTION 🥳🥳💪💪💪💪

Thats my emotional support woobified early 20 something year old man. I adore him. If 30 people love reho i am one of them, if one person loves reho i am them if 0 people love reho i am dead (rip rehoes 😔) i will defend his (and aras) good names until i die.

Amazing chapter as always 10/10 *chefs kiss* im so excited for the series to finish and see what you do with everyone and the rest of the storylines and such.

Every time I think of Shen’s death I think of your utter devastation & how I wasn’t expecting you to be so distraught over it. I will say I had another commenter lately who was talking about how much they liked Shen & wanted an Iroh/Shen/Zuko dynamic and I kept thinking…. Damn it buddy, you’re going to be soooo mad at me in a few chapter haha…. oops.

ugh my linguistic patterns haunt me and I specifically ask my betas to check for them because I feel sooooo repetitive sometimes especially when there’s a lot of introspection lol. So it’s funny you mentioned that lol.

Omg I remember when I was still on RIA & someone in the server was like “dude I’m rooting for some jeeto.” & I was like oh no how do they know??? I created this fun divide between hakoda and bato just to push Bato into Jees arm!! Don’t spoil it haha, but whatever at least Dentys dead

Awwww thanks for the compliments it means a lot coming from you <3 but also yeah Ara is my delicate dumpster fire who says she going to make her existence everyone’s problem (most importantly sokka because damn girl could just LEAVE but she refuses lol) I love it. She’s fun, and any scene with her expect utter chaos haha.

every time I write Reho in a scene my mind says and the crowd goes wild,,, he’s annoying but I’m glad you like him.

thanks for this amazing ask you’re awesome

#Haha maxxxxx you’re so funny #I am forever a fan of Ara and her ability to harass sokka while constantly saying she’s not going to harass sokka #Zuko: “I just…. Never want to see you again”#Ara: got it ok so I’ll go make friends with sokkas sister and hangout with the water tribe healers and suki and -#No wonder sokka starts foaming at the mouth every time he sees her #I still don’t think zuko has nearly as big of a problem with Ara as sokka does #I truly think she’s just “that bitch from prison”#& sokkas got like 43 fake scenarios saved in his head of how things could have been different or how he would get his revenge #Anywayyyyyy I like Ara she’s fun #& Katara deserves to have some fun!#Thanks for the ask max sorry it took me so long to answer I’m a loser I have no excuses #LIAB #leaving it all behind #ITF #ask #Maaaxx

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 5 months

Text

May I Love You?

(A/N: I'm really on a roll with these Ranpo relationship reveals. This one contains some other couples too. No beta we die like that guy Mushitarou dropped off that building.)

(1,472 words)

Ranpo's Perspective

I deduced my boyfriend's– I mean rival's intentions days and days ago but he's been working on a new manuscript that I haven't had time to confront him about it. Ordinarily I would beat him to the punch but it's fun watching him be all shy.

A scratching sound from behind me brings my attention back to the office. I'd know that sound anywhere. Karl. My best friend. It's time.

I turn, and he drops the leather bound volume in my lap. I start to reach in my pocket but he skitters away before I can give him a treat. How odd? He's just as much a sweet tooth as I am, is Edgar mad that I haven't mentioned his recent project? I'd assumed he'd wanted space to work on it.

I open the volume.

It's blank.

There isn't a trace of ink or indenting on any of the pages. This is getting more confusing by the second, which is distressing because confusion isn't something I feel often. Then I sport it.

As soon as I see the note taped to the back, the situation becomes obvious. Ah, Edgar, you managed to stump me for a second! You really are my soulmate.

I start to get up but the amount of effort Edgar must have poured into this, given how shy he is, must have been immense. If he's asking this of me I really should respect his work.

Already itching to see the book's author, I turn over the last page and read the carefully scrawled note. Edgar's handwriting can appear at times somewhat messy, almost fevered, when his mind is supplying him with ideas much faster than his hand can move. But this note has been written in delicate decadent script, the characters almost taking on the appearance of English cursive as they curve elegantly. He thought about this, most likely writing several drafts until it was perfect.

It reads:

"I'm sorry, I know I should be doing this in person, but I'd be far too embarrassed with all of your colleagues present. I suppose this is what I get for being too impatient to wait until your work hours ended. And I'm sure by this point you've already deduced my intentions, however I do wish to do this formally, so if you have any intention of accepting my offer, meet me outside."

I'd been expecting this, I know I had but I can't help the way my heartbeat accelerates, pounding in my chest, filling me with butterflies.

I almost knock over Kenji as I run out the door.

Yosano's Perspective

I've never seen Ranpo run before.

Well, I have, but that was when we were about to be murdered. Other than dashing around when he accompanies one of us shopping, his pace is light and even, without a care in the world.

Now he sprints through the office, heading straight for the door. Last I checked there's no new murders he's been asked to help with. Does he even know where he's going?

I saw that Racoon, Kyle, I think its name is, drop off a manuscript from the Guild author that comes by often. Did something in the book upset Ranpo that much? And why didn't Ranpo get sucked into the book after the first page?

I hope we don't have to go look for him, especially since we're down four people. Kunikida and Atsushi are out on a reconnaissance mission and it's the Tanizakis' day off.

I start down the stairs after him, he doesn't even turn at my footsteps, and when I get almost out the door I see the raccoon again, and a sleek black car, an American company.

The author is here! I see . . . that means I should give them some privacy then. I google and creep as quietly as I can back up the stairs, so as not to disturb the two men.

Dazai is already standing at the window, looking out over the street below. I go to meet him, still smiling as I think of the detective and the author together.

Dazai looks over at me nodding to the boys below us. Even though they're older than both Dazai and I, I can't shake the feeling of watching two teenagers have their first love. Maybe it's because they're both so different from others of their age. Maybe it's because both our pasts have aged Dazai and I so much beyond our physical years.

We're silent as we watch them share an embrace and then a kiss.

I reach over to the desk and pull the manuscript from the table, a note falls out. My smile only grows as I read it. A love confession, or nearly. Ranpo has a boyfriend now.

Dazai sighs, turning away from the window, back still resting against the sill, looking back to the office. His gaze is fixed on me now, something like a smile on his lips. A smile different from the wide grins he usually flashes, it doesn't look so painted on. A smile tainted by all he's been through. Real but fleeting, never wide or bright enough because of a dark and twisted past. I don't think he minds it, he should, but he doesn't.

"That makes four of us with partners from opposing organisations" The chuckles that leave his lips is a twisting hollow sound, not unlike his smile.

"Yeah" is all I can say, trying to ground myself in the calm moment. I force myself to think only of how happy Ranpo looks, the rosy blush dusting his cheeks. If I'm happy for him I can't be sad for me.

Gentle footsteps echo, Kenji is at the window beside us. He stares at Ranpo and his new boyfriend.

"Wow! Ranpo-san looks so happy, good for him!' Kenji cheers.

Dazai pats the farmer boy on the head and presses his pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. "How about we keep this between us. Afterall, this isn't our secret to tell."

Kenji's eyes widen in realisation and he looks around just to make sure the office is empty as he nods, "Alright, of course I won't mention it, you have my word."

"Thank you, Kenji-kun." Dazai's words are so quiet I almost can't hear them and from there silence creeps in, the comfortable kind, the happiness still like a blanket over me even after we turn away from the window.

The warmth of the feeling only dulls when something occurs to me.

"Wait, earlier you mentioned that there are five of us dating those from other organisations, who's the fourth? Did Atsushi and Akutagawa finally get together?"

But that would still leave one couple?

"Nope!" The grin is back on Dazai's face again.

I try to puzzle it out. There's me and Kouyou, Dazai and Chuuya, and now Ranpo and the Guild Author. Who's the last couple?

Finally I give up. "Then who?"

"Not my secret to tell either."

I feel the cool steady pressure of someone's gaze on me. There's only one person who could make you feel that just by looking at you, the only person I've ever met who has such an unshakably calm aura. The President.

I turn to greet him, but he's already walking out.

"Oh, President, where are you going?" I ask, because I'm a little embarrassed to be caught just staring out the window doing nothing during working hours.

He offers a small smile, "Just out. You needn't bother yourself, return to what you were doing. I'll be gone for the remainder of the day, but should you need me for anything you know where to contact me."

I watch him go, he's taking his bag with him. It's rare for him to leave early, whatever he's doing must be important.

Yukichi's Perspective

I shake my head as I head out the office door.

Yosano-kun and Dazai-kun have resumed their banter. I listen for a moment.

"Dazai, pleeease!" Yosano-kun drags out the words in hopes of breaking Dazai-kun's steel resolve.

"Nope!" I can picture that clownish smile of his, so like the look someone I know gets when he's about to pull something mischievous, only Dazai-kun wears it all the time. As if it was plastered onto his face or he put it on so many times he forgot to take it off, or forgot how.

I continue down the stairs, the last thing I hear being Yosano-kun's scream of: "You little shit!"

I know Dazai-kun won't reveal the name of the fifth agency member dating someone from another organisation. He's withstood far more gruesome torture with a smile on his face. Most of the time I can only hope he'll relax into a life in the light. I wish he would accept that he is truly safe now, but now I'm grateful. If that name were to get out it wouldn't be good anyone involved

Speaking of couples, I owe a certain surgeon money.

Oh, my Ranpo, my beloved son, why couldn't you have waited another month to start dating Poe-san?

(A/N: Even Dazai doesn't know about Tachizaki)

(A/N: I've leaned into a sodter style for this one, because I liked the last one I wrote so much, and as I mentioned in my previous post I love writing fukumori so I wanted to included them. Also I like to think that this title has a slight double meaning. Yukichi wonders if it truly is alright to be in such a deep realtionship with someone from an enemy organisation, but love is love and it can't be helped❤️.)

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd edogawa rampo #ranpoe fanfic #bsd ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpoe #ranpoe #relationship reveal #ranpoe realationship reveal

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kmorgzz · 3 years

Text

Mistakes?

Character: Porco Galliard x f!reader (female bodied and feminine pet names)

Word Count: 5.8K (look... don’t ask, I was possessed)

Genre: smut/fluff

Plot: bit of fake dating and FWB to lovers babyyyyyy

Warnings: slightest bit of degradation (calls reader a slut a few times), mentions of flushing skin/appearance of hickies, unprotected sex, face sitting, cum swallowing

Thank you @ringpop-poppy for always having Porco brainrot with me<3 and thanks to @alto-march-of-death for being a beta <3

“Porky,” you sing as you unlock the door to his apartment. The spare key was hidden exactly where it always is. He had threatened to move it so you couldn’t arrive unannounced like you always did. It was an empty threat, and you both knew it. “I brought the snacks for movie night! If you’re playing with your dick you better put it away!”

Porco rolls his eyes as he emerges from the hallway and into the living room. He’s slipping a shirt on over his broad chest as he says, “You always mention my dick. Is it because you want it or something?” He takes the bags of snacks from you and takes them to the kitchen. “Someone might think you’re only friends with me for the sex.”

You pout, removing your shoes and scoffing, “Oh please, we haven’t even had sex. Following your logic, does that mean you want to have sex with me?” Water spews from Porco’s lips at your comment and you smile innocently, “What? Was it something I said?”

He grabs a paper towel, mopping up the counter, “Shut up. You’re disgusting.” Porco scrunches his nose in distaste, “As if I’d have sex with you anyway.”

You clutch at your chest dramatically, “You wound me, Porky. How will I ever go on?”

He waves a hand as he goes back to the living room to sit on the couch, “If you die, at least have the courtesy to crawl outside. I don’t want you decomposing in my kitchen.”

This was your friendship; it was humorous, teasing, playful. Someone on the outside might be concerned that the threats and the disgust were real, but the two of you knew there wasn’t any truth to it. You made your way to the couch, waiting for Porco to get comfy before you joined him. When he was comfy, he sighed in fake annoyance before patting his lap, “Come on.”

Movie nights always came with this arrangement. Porco with his back to the armrest, laying on the couch, legs spread. You between his legs, head resting on his chest. It wasn’t always this way, but with time and a bit of emotional vulnerability, the two of you had become open to the physical affection of close friends.

The movie started, but it was one you had both seen before. Movie nights started with a movie you had seen, simply because the first movie was background noise. The two of you spent most of the first movie talking about your day, about developments in your lives, things like that.

“How’s that crush on Reiner,” Porco asks. “You ever pull up your big girl panties and tell him you’re interested?”

From your spot on his chest, you pinch his thigh and he grumbles angrily. “No. He’s still stuck on Historia. Which I get it, she’s a good choice--granted, not as good as me, but a good choice nonetheless--but she’s in love with Ymir.” You sigh loudly, “I just need something to push him over the edge, you know?” You tilt your head, looking up at him. “And you? That crazy ex-girlfriend? She ever listen to you when you said you don’t like her anymore?”

Porco groans, “God, I wish she would, but no. She even asked if you and I were dating because she came over here and saw you leaving. How creepy is that?”

You laugh, “She thought we were dating? That’s laughable.” You hum quietly in thought. “You know--”

“Do not finish that thought,” Porco snaps. “You’re going to ask something like ‘what if we were’ or something.” His voice pitches higher to mock you. He can’t tell if the feeling of his stomach rolling is because of the disgust at the thought of dating his best friend or something else. He presses that thought down. “That only works in those fanfics you read.”

You sniff indignantly, “Don’t hate the fanfics because you don’t achieve the expectations and standards set within them, Porky.” He flicks your forehead in response and you roll your eyes, “Be careful, maybe I’m a masochist.”

You miss the way Porco’s eyes dilate at your comment. He turns his face to the TV, trying to clear his mind of your words. “I’m better than those fictional men,” he mumbles, slightly offended.

You laugh and he feels the way your body shakes against his. You gently poke him in the stomach, “I’m sure you are, Porky. Too bad you can’t prove your words since your pride won’t let you fake date me for mutual benefit.” The fluttering in your stomach belies the confidence you’re exuding.

There’s silence from Porco. He does this when he feels the conversation will annoy him. He surprises you by saying, “What does fake dating include?”

You clear your throat, “I mean...it’s dating but...fake. We can decide what that looks like if you’re genuinely interested.” You keep your cheek pressed against his chest. If you look at him now, the carefully constructed façade you’ve built will surely shatter. There was a time when building a friendship with Porco was a ruse; you wanted more than that. In getting to know him, you had all but forgotten that plan from so long ago. But sometimes...sometimes he worms his way into your heart again and you’re at a loss for a moment (or multiple moments).

“You said it was mutually beneficial,” he says by way of explanation. “You’re the one who has read all the fanfics, you tell me how it works.” He feels you grumbling against his chest at the mention of fanfics again. He ruffles your hair, “Come on, princess, how does it work?”

You hope he can’t feel the way your cheeks heat up at the pet name. Your guilty pleasure pet name of ‘princess’ falling so easily from his mouth really sends your body into disarray. “Well, in public, you act like a couple. Outside of the public eye, you can hate each other or be friends or whatever you would normally do. The fake dating is for appearances, you know? So for you, the benefit is that ex getting off your back. For me, it’s--”

“Reiner getting his head out of his ass,” Porco interrupts. He waves his hand leisurely, “Yeah, yeah that makes sense.” He goes silent and you can sense the way he has something to say. You look up at him from your spot against his chest and his cheeks are tinged pink. “Say, uh, do people usually ask questions about our sexual lives? What do we say to that?”

You choke, sitting up as you cough. Porco smacks a hand against your back, shouting apologies. You take a deep breath and stare at him. “Well...what do you want to say to that? I feel like...the people who are going to be asking that question know who you and I are as people. They would have made the assumption prior to asking.”

Porco’s earlier uneasiness clears and his arrogance is back. He smirks at you, “If you want me to fuck you, just say so.” He’s half joking. Or at least he thinks he is. He isn’t really sure at this moment.

You cock an eyebrow. The arrogance you two display always builds off one another. “If you want to fuck me, just say so. You’re the one who asked, aren’t you? You want this to be friends-with-benefits who are fake dating?” You lean forward, face close to his. You revel in the way he watches you with rapt attention. “Just say the word, it can be.”

He presses one of his large hands into your face, pushing you away. “You’re disgusting. Go away.” The half-hard cock in his pajama pants belies his words.

You pout at him, going back to your previous position. Both of you choose to ignore his cock that both of you can definitely feel pressing between you. “I’m not disgusting,” you grumble.

“That’s payback for saying fanfic men are better than me,” he retorts. He swallows the groan he was going to let out as your body rubs against his cock. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear you’re doing it on purpose. Porco grabs you by the shoulders, voice strained as he chokes out, “Stop. Moving. Like. That.” He should’ve known better than to show weakness to you. Mistake number one of the night. You’re like a lioness on the hunt, preying on the mistakes of your prey.

You hum, paying no attention to the grip he has on your shoulders. “Why? Am I so disgusting you can’t help but get hard at the thought of me?” You’re walking on thin ice, you know you are, and yet you’re doing it anyway. This is a line you cannot uncross. You don’t really have the mind to care, not when his cock was pressing against you.

Porco grinds his teeth together, “Stop playing around.”

“Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend, Porky,” you ask, looking up at him and fluttering your eyelashes. Mistake number two of the night. His pupils are dilated as he stares at you. He looks like he’s having an internal debate with himself. Your breath hitches at the sight and you turn your face away to rest your cheek back against his chest.

His hands slide beneath your armpits, pulling your body up higher until you are face-to-face with him. His warm breath fans across your face as you stare in surprise at him. “Nuh uh, princess. You don’t get to tease and get away with it.” You are slowly crossing a line, your toes at the edge of it, ready to run across.

You hate how breathless you sound when you say, “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Porco?” His actual name slips out of your mouth without thinking. No ‘Pock’ or ‘Porky’ to keep yourself in check. Mistake number three of the night.

Porco stares into your eyes and he takes one of your hands, sliding it between you until your hand rests against his cock. “You did that. Now you get to fix it.” Quicker than you can register, he wraps an arm around you, lifting you so he can get you on your back. He hovers over you, now slightly uncertain because of the position you’re in. It’s endearing the concern he has. Thinking that thought...mistake number four of the night. He presses his lips together and stares at you, “Are you...sure?”

There’s something about how sweet he is despite how desperate he just was that in turn makes you desperate as well. You grab him by the shirt, balling the fabric in your fist, “This is a friends-with-benefits, fake dating AU. Just fucking kiss me, you idiot.” Porco doesn’t have time to consider what ‘AU’ means before you tug him to you and press your lips together. Mistake number five.

The first thought you have is his lips are so soft. They explore yours gently, something that shouldn’t have surprised you, but did. You get to see Porco in a different light than everyone else; with you, he is open, vulnerable, something everyone else does not have the pleasure to experience. The way his lips roamed your own should not have been a surprise.

Porco is the one to run his tongue over your lips, seeking permission. The way he takes control is no surprise. He nips at your lip when you don’t grant him permission. “Come on, brat,” he mumbles against your mouth. “Quit playing hard-to-get.”

“You knew what you got into,” you tell him, nipping at his lip in retaliation. His hand slides down your body, slipping under the band of your sweatpants and panties. You gasp in surprise and he smirks against your lips, immediately shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s sloppy but neither of you seem to mind the spit that gathers at the corners of your lips. His hand stays exactly where it was now that his trick worked.

You pull away from him, resting your forehead against his as you catch your breath. “Shit,” you mutter.

Porco smirks once more, “Better than the fanfic men?” He presses his lips to your jaw, using a hand to tilt your head back. “Since I’m real and not fictional, I’ll assume the answer is yes. What I will say is that, even though this whole agreement hinges on you scoring Reiner...I’ll give you the royal treatment, princess, which is too bad as it’ll ruin you for anyone else.” You flush once more at the pet name, but this time, Porco notices. A wicked grin comes over his features, “Aw, jeez, you’re a ‘princess’ kind of girl?” His lips ghost over your throat, lips gently brushing the skin, “Well, princess, enjoy the royal treatment, then.”

Porco’s hand slides further down into your pants, middle finger dipping between your folds first, seeking out your clit. His bites at your pulse point, feeling the way your heart is beating quickly at the predicament you’re in. Your hips buck up as he finds your clit and he smiles against the skin of your throat, “You somehow never shut up, but now is the time you decide to be quiet?”

You tug at the hem of his shirt, prompting him to take it off to distract yourself. You bite down on your lip and then blink slowly up at him, “Give me a reason to be loud and I will.” Porco stares at you for a moment before retracting his hand and pulling his shirt off, throwing it in a corner somewhere. Your hands immediately rove over the hard planes of his chest as he begins to remove your clothes.

He is in no rush as he gently slides your sweatpants down your legs. He swallows thickly at seeing your legs so bare and the wet spot in your panties. You sit up, tugging your shirt off and he blinks quickly. “You-you didn’t wear a bra? To my apartment?”

You give him a deadpan stare, “That’s your first comment, really? Not ‘oh wow, i want those in my mouth’ or ‘damn that’s what you hide under those sweatshirts’ for your first comment.”

Porco continues to stare at your chest and you clear your throat. His gaze snaps to your eyes. Mistake number six of the night. Your eyes are sparkling with the laughter and the teasing you’re giving him. And god, he could watch your eyes sparkle like the night sky until he went blind. Instead, he goes for an eloquent, “I do want them in my mouth.”

You laugh then, grabbing at the waist of his pants and pulling him forward, “Then do it, stupid. Do whatever you want to me.” That is all the clearance he needs. His reservations are dashed against the wall as you give him permission. You both have crossed a line, and you continue to run further from it. He takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue laving over it while his hand pinches and pulls on the other one. His teeth graze over your nipple and his cock twitches as you moan quietly.

His hand moves from your nipple to your mouth, thumb pressing between your lips. You part them, curious. Porco pulls away from your nipple for a moment so he can say, “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you when I ruin you.” Mistake number seven of the night. Your mouth sucks on his thumb and he removes it, shoving it in your panties and rubbing tight circles against your clit again.

Porco takes his time with you. Once he’s satisfied on one nipple, he moves to the other, sucking hickies into the skin surrounding it before letting his teeth graze over the sensitive nub. Your hips buck against his thumb so he obliges, letting his middle finger slide down to your hole, teasing the entrance with the tip of his finger. You whine, just like he was hoping you would.

“You’re so desperate, trying to fuck yourself on my finger,” he says quietly, moving off your breast and kissing down your sternum. “I should’ve known you were a little slut like this.” Porco takes your panties in his teeth, tugging them down. “Jeez, look at you making a mess in those panties,” he coos, voice slightly muffled by the fabric between his teeth.

You huff indignantly and stare at up at the ceiling, “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

Porco cocks his head, “You haven’t cum yet, so no. Have patience, princess. I know you’re desperate for my cock, but I said I’d take care of you.” The surprise on your face gives him pause. “Has--have your other partners not...cared about making you cum?” You don’t answer and he sits back thoughtfully, thumb still rubbing at your clit. “Sit on my face,” he says simply.

You sputter, “What?” The thought of sitting on his face is daunting. “What if I--”

“Too heavy? I really don’t care,” he interrupts. “I refuse to fuck you until you’ve had at least one orgasm. So you can either sit on my face or get nothing at all.” He gestures to his face, “Your throne for the evening, princess. Take it or leave it.”

Porco knows you’ve conceded so he lays back on the couch. Gingerly, you crawl up his body until you’re nearly to his face. “Are you--”

Porco sighs in annoyance and grabs the back of your thighs, dragging you forward until your center is hovering over his face. His hands travel up the back of your thighs to your ass, squeezing at the flesh. “Lower,” he commands, voice husky with desire. “If you don’t lower yourself, I will do it for you.” You slowly lower yourself, feeling Porco’s hot breath against your wet cunt, his nose gently brushing your clit. “That’s my girl,” he coos, before flattening his tongue against you, rubbing his nose against your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, grabbing at the back of the couch to keep yourself up. Sure, you had gotten head before, but Porco...Porco ate you out like it was a meal to a man starved. Your thighs pressed against his head as they began to shake around him. “P-Porco, please.”

Your plea goes straight to his cock that is straining uncomfortably against his pajama pants. He could barely hear you with the way your legs were pressed to his ears. He rubs his nose against your clit, looking up at you from between your legs. “Cum on my tongue, baby. Do it.” He calls you ‘baby’ without thinking. His mouth continues to work on you, eyes flicking up to look at you your eyes squeeze shut and mouth hangs agape. He could really cum from that alone.

You cum on his tongue and he laps it up, teasing your oversensitive nerves with languid swipes of his tongue. Your hand comes down to rest in his hair, gently scratching at his scalp as you catch your breath. “Have you been tested,” you ask. Probably a bit late for that thought since you just came on his tongue.

“Yeah, why,” Porco says, still beneath you. “I have condoms.” Very quickly, you shimmy your body down his, moving off his face. He props himself up on his elbows, “What are you--”

You don’t give him time to complete his thought, standing up to remove his pants and briefs. “I do not care that you have condoms. Right now, I need…” you pause, giggling. “I need Pock cock.”

Porco stares at you, “You’re so stupid. You are talking about my penis. You are telling me that you desperately want my cock. And you call it Pock cock?!” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up. “I haven’t-I haven’t even prepped you. Let me do that.”

You grab him by the shoulders, shifting his body so his back is against the back of the couch. “No.” Porco sputters as you kneel, hole positioned above him. You hum thoughtfully, “It’ll be a stretch.” You lean forward, mouth by his ear so you can whisper, “Just tell me I’m a good girl while I do it and I promise it’ll be fine, baby.” You use the term of endearment almost mockingly, a callback to earlier when he had used it. Mistake number eight of the night.

Porco has to restrain himself from thrusting into you right then. He groans, throwing his head back, “Fuck. You can’t just say shit like that.” His hands slide down your body, resting at your hips. “Are you sure it’ll be--” he doesn’t finish the thought. You press yourself down on his cock, your warmth enveloping him as you stretch around him. He’s thick, and you whine softly as you move down his length.

Porco remembers what you told him. Of course you would have a praise kink. He digs his thumbs into the flesh at your hip, “Fuck. You-you’re doing--shit--taking me so well, look at you, baby.” You’re almost fully around him, so he wraps his arms around you, gently pressing his hips up to meet you. You moan, chin resting on his shoulder. Porco presses his lips to your jaw, then gently nibbles at your earlobe as you adjust. “It’s like you were made for this cock, baby. You feel-fuck, you feel so good.”

You roll your hips against him, both of you letting out moans at the action. You don’t often take the initiative to ride someone. You’re in charge, you set the pace, but it hits a very good spot for you. But you’d be damned if you didn’t get to watch Porco fall apart this time.

Porco should’ve known that you’d be a fucking tease. You rode him without any urgency, rolling your hips and bouncing on him at varying paces, paces that edged him. He was a mess beneath you; his head was tilted back against the couch, and your hips were sure to bruise with how hard he was holding you.

“Fuck this,” he growls, bringing his head forward to look at you. His hand goes up to your throat, gently squeezing the sides, “You want to be a little tease? You want to edge me? Nuh uh, not anymore.” He wraps an arm around you, twisting you so your back is on the couch as he hovers over you. “You were so desperate for my cock earlier. Well now you’re going to get it.”

A strangled gasp escapes you as he pulls out, thrusting harshly back in. His thumb goes down between your bodies, rubbing against your clit. “You cum first, you’re ordering the pizza for dinner,” he says before pounding into you. Porco is merciless, thumb stimulating you as his cock brushes your g-spot at the same time. It doesn’t help that he’s whispering absolute filth into your ear as well. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. Bet you’d like me to fill you up like the little cumslut you are.”

You cum first, clamping down around his cock. Porco slows his thrusts, trying not to overstimulate you as you come down from your high. And fuck, the way you’re squeezing his cock like you want to keep it buried in you, he almost stays there. He pulls out, reveling in the whimper you make. “Sorry baby, but I’m gonna fill that mouth up. Maybe having it full can keep you from being such a brat.”

Porco nearly cums on the spot at the way you open your mouth, tongue out, staring at him through your lashes. He pumps his cock in his fist, pushing himself right to the edge before pressing his cock into your mouth to thrust a few times. He cums down your throat, moaning quietly as your tongue rolls over his cock, cleaning it off.

You pull off his cock, swiping at the corner of your mouth, “What kind of pizza do you want?”

Porco slides into the booth next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You, Porco, and Reiner were at a party, but decided to take a moment to relax. Reiner cocks an eyebrow at the two of you, “Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long.”

Porco chuckles, “What can I say, my princess likes to play hard-to-get.” His other hand rests on your thigh, gently kneading circles into the skin.

“Princess,” Reiner repeats the pet name. It doesn’t have the same effect coming from Reiner as it does coming from Porco. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. “What brought this on?”

You shrug, sipping at your drink, “It just kind of happened. I mean, we were friends before we started dating so it just kind of...progressed.”

Porco remembers the whole reason for the fake dating arrangement in the first place. The reason is sitting right across from them at the booth. Porco presses a kiss to your cheek--to keep up appearances of course--and flicks your forehead affectionately, “I’m heading to the bathroom. Be right back.”

You nod, continuing your conversation with Reiner. Porco heads towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and then standing there to watch. He watches the way you laugh at something Reiner says. He knows that your eyes are sparkling like they always do. He hears you snort when you laugh, butterflies erupting in his stomach. It is then that he knows this arrangement was doomed from the start. That night you had agreed on it--the night you two had had sex--he should have known. He plays it back in his head often, counting the mistakes that should have indicated that this was a fool’s errand. There were eight of them.

Reiner’s hand reaches across the table and rests on top of yours as he says something earnestly. Porco wants to walk back then, to interrupt the moment, but he doesn’t. This was the goal in the first place, after all.

You laugh at what Reiner says, his hand slightly clammy on top of yours. You hope the laugh is genuine. You pull your hand out from under his, using it to hold your glass and take a drink. Your phone buzzes on the table. You snort at the message, seeing it is from Porco. Reiner tries to be inconspicuous as he looks at the screen.

Took your hand away pretty fast, princess. Isn’t that what you wanted? Your stomach flips. In the beginning, that was the goal.

His hand is clammy. You send your text, setting your phone down. You nod at something Reiner says.

Porco stares at his phone screen, your explanation for why you had pulled away staring back at him. He can’t help but feel this is a small victory, but he isn’t sure why. Oh, not warm like mine as they caress your skin? He sends the text, watching you for your reaction. The flush on your exposed shoulders makes him chuckle. Got ya all hot and bothered, right there in front of the guy you’re supposed to be making jealous. Wonder if he thinks that pretty blush is for him? Porco pockets his phone, strolling back to the booth like he didn’t just send the text that he did.

“Took you long enough,” you say, “Did you make sure to give a courtesy spray after you took a shit?” Reiner’s eyebrows shoot up so fast, you’re worried they might shoot off his forehead.

“So vulgar,” Porco chides. “Wanna go dance, princess?” His fingers dance up your thighs, teasing the edge of your skirt and heading back down your legs, only to repeat the sequence.

“Sure, dear,” you respond. A furrow appears in Reiner’s brows, but he doesn’t comment on the slight tension in your shoulders.

Porco grabs your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. He tugs on your hips, pulling you against him so your back is against his chest. His mouth is right by your ear. “Such a shame he had clammy hands,” Porco whispers. “You could be dancing with ol’ Reiner Braun instead of me right now, just like you wanted.”

You hum, playing along with his game--it’s just a game, right?--and press your ass against his crotch as you dance. “How bad would that make me look? Coming with my boyfriend and grinding on someone else? I could never, that would be...naughty of me.”

“Could have had me fooled, little slut,” he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. You shiver against him. “Bet if I asked, Reiner wouldn’t mind joining us. Would you want that?”

“Actually,” you drawl, “I’d like to blow your brains out. In the hot way, not with a gun.” Porco can’t help the throb in his cock at your words. The guy you were intent on getting when this arrangement started was within your grasp, yet here you were...wanting him instead. Is this what it’s like being in too deep?

“Then don’t flirt with him,” Porco growls. “Not when you and I have this. Not when it’s my name you moan almost every night.” Neither of you can tell if he’s serious.

The next opportunity to make Reiner jealous happens a few days later. Porco invites him over to watch movies. He also invites Bertholdt so Reiner doesn’t feel like a third wheel. Without thinking, you and Porco stretch out on the couch like you normally do for movie nights. Porco realizes there is only one couch and the two of you scramble to make room for Reiner and Bertholdt.

Porco pulls you into his lap to make more space. The four of you watch a few movies before getting tired. Porco offers the couch and makes a pallet for Reiner and Bertholdt. “There’s only two spots,” Reiner says dumbly. “Isn’t y/n sleeping out here with us?”

Porco shrugs, “That’s up to her. She can sleep with me or you two.”

“Well I hope I’d want to sleep with my boyfriend,” you say with a laugh. “Sorry Reiner, Berty.” The two of them shrug, debating on who is going to sleep where. The door to Porco’s room shuts softly behind you.

Porco is sitting on the bed, staring at you. “Shouldn’t you want to sleep out there with them?”

You shrug, getting into bed beside him, “I wasn’t wrong. Wouldn’t it be weird if I slept with two men who aren’t my boyfriend?” You’re making excuses now. The clammy hand? That was laughable. This one was at least believable and valid. This plan wasn’t going at all like it was supposed to. The fanfics should’ve been indicative of that.

Third time's the charm, Porco thinks to himself. He hopes it isn’t as he leans against a wall, watching you talk to Reiner. You shiver--it’s a bit cold outside--and Reiner offers you his jacket. You take it. Porco feels a crack in his heart. It’s just cold outside.

You laugh at something Reiner says--Porco hates when you do that because he loves the way your eyes sparkle and he wants to keep that for himself. Only because I’m the funniest person I know, no one else deserves the sparkles of laughter in your eyes when they aren’t funny like me. He watches you hold up a finger to Reiner and then pull your phone from your pocket.

His phone buzzes immediately in his pocket. That wasn’t even funny. Also his jacket smells like lavender. Help. You again laugh at something Reiner says, a hand reaching out to slap at his arm. Porco shoves his phone in his pocket, ready to go over and interrupt. He tells himself it’s only because you hate the smell of lavender. It gives you a headache.

Porco strolls up, “Oh, hey babe. Were you cold? Here, take my jacket so Reiner can have his back.” You immediately take Reiner’s off, thanking him and then wrapping yourself in Porco’s jacket. “Let me see if there’s a blanket around here, I’ll be back.” It smells like leather and mint and bergamot and you take a deep inhale as Porco walks away. Only to get rid of the lavender.

Reiner says something to you that you don’t hear. He repeats it. “Are you happy with him?” The question takes you off guard. “Because...because I thought that...I thought that you might have liked me. And then you two started dating. So I just...I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Porco hears the question. He’s not far enough away and Reiner has never been good at talking quietly. Porco grabs a blanket from the stack. Pieck was always prepared; a bonfire and blankets seemed counterintuitive, but here you were freezing. Porco takes his time.

“Yeah,” you respond. “I am.” It’s simple. Someone else might think you aren’t genuine, but not Porco. You answered without hesitation and with clear strength behind the words. Porco isn’t sure if it’s the cold or his beating heart that causes him to shiver.

Reiner smiles at you, “I’m glad. I’ll see you around then.” He excuses himself, leaving you to ponder what just happened. You hadn’t even thought about your answer. But this wasn’t real. Your mind is racing as you stare at the space Reiner had just occupied.

A blanket wraps around you and Porco’s mouth is by your ear. “Do the people in the fanfics always catch feelings? Maybe you should’ve warned me that could happen to us,” Porco whispers. His hands rub at your arms that are swathed in his jacket and a blanket. You aren’t sure what you can say right now. He heard. He could tell. He knows.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly, looking at the ground and glaring at your feet as if they’re the ones who caught feelings.

“Sorry?” Porco walks around so he is in front of you. “For what? Falling love with me? It’s not hard to do, I understand.” You snort and roll your eyes. He grips your chin, tilting your head up. Porco is smiling at you when you look at him. “That’s my sassy girl.”

You cock your head, “Who said anything about falling in love? I think you mentioned it because that’s how you feel.” The conversation gives you deja vu to the conversation that happened before this arrangement was made. When you joked about having sex.

“That’s why I said it, sweetheart. And that’s why I said ‘my sassy girl’,” Porco replies. He flicks your forehead, “Emphasis is placed on the word my because you are mine and no one else’s. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”

“It will have to do for now,” you reply, eyes sparkling with contained laughter as you tease him to exasperation. “You can explain it more when we get home.” You take his hand, dragging him to the chairs set up around the bonfire. Porco can’t help but think back to the night that started all this. He had called his decisions mistakes and counted them one-by-one each time he replayed that night in his head. He supposed mistakes happen, but nothing was a mistake when it came to you.

#porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #porco smut #porco x reader #porco galliard smut

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mlm-writer · 3 years

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Choke Me Like You Hate Me, But You Love Me (Lucifer x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dom Top Lucifer Morningstar x Sub Bottom Male Reader (trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1559 POV: Second Summary: You tell Lucifer about your choking fantasy and he teaches you proper etiquette, before actually choking you in bed. Notes: If nobody is going to tell the youth these days how to properly choke someone, I will. Also can be read by anyone who likes being called a boy. (Handsome/baby boy). Genitals and chest area are unspecified. Tags: No beta we die like men, choking, consent talk, kink discussion, reader is a nervous wreck, penetrative sex (anal or vaginal), things go wrong when you try something for the first time and that’s ok

Sweat gathered on your hands as you stood in the elevator. You rubbed them off on your jeans, right before the doors opened and you were greeted with the wide smile of your boyfriend. “Hello,” he greeted you, suit impeccable as ever and a glass of scotch in each hand.

“Oh you always know exactly what I need,” you sighed as you took one glass and downed it for some courage. As you wiped a drip of scotch off the corner of your lips with your thumb, your eyes locked with the concerned ones of your man. “What?”

He gently took the glass from you and put it with his full one on the bar. “Rough day?” He asked with a furrowed brow. You shook your head and walked over to the couch.

“No, not at all. Great, actually, I had a great day!” You plopped down, leaning against the backrest. “It’s just... We need to talk and I don’t think I’m ready to say this, but I promised myself to say it today and I don’t want to say it, but I have to or I will never say it!” Your hands flew in the air as anxiety settled in your chest.

In a flash, Lucifer was at your side, taking your hands gently into his. “Hey, hey, deep breaths, handsome.” You followed along with his breathing, calming down a little as you saw how much he cared about you. His eyes spoke books with just a single glance. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Unless you want to leave me of course, I simply can’t have that.”

You laughed at his joke and shook your head. “No it’s not something like that. It is just embarrassing.” Lucifer made a noise to indicate his interest as he crossed his legs and leaned with one arm on the beckrest. He looked at you with expecting eyes and a shit-eating grin. “I hate you.” He chuckled and shrugged. “No, really, I really do, I hate you and that shit eating grin so much I… I’ve been thinking about you choking me while we fuck.”

Lucifer stopped abruptly with laughing and looked at you with wide eyes. You stared back at him like a deer in headlights. “What?” He asked.

You didn’t wait for a second, before giving him your ingenious reply. “What?”

“Did you just say…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, please.” “Oh but you will.”

He leaned closer to you an even wider grin on his face and you wanted to low key punch it off. “What did you say, darling?”

You whined and looked away from him. “I want you to choke me! Okay! I said it! I saw you at the precinct the other day and you were choking that criminal against a wall and it got me really hot and bothered, there! I said it! Now please don’t make me say it again.” Lucifer laughed and pulled you into a hug as you covered your heated face.

“Oh baby boy, you just had to say it. I will gladly choke you,” he mused as he swayed you a little. The tension left your body as he didn’t seem to be shocked or judgemental at all. You did not expect differently, but you were still embarrassed to talk about things like this. You never really had a relationship where you could talk so openly about what you did and did not like in the bedroom. “So, have you ever been choked before?”

You looked up at him and shook your head. He gave an understanding nod and stood up. Lucifer brought back two steaming cups of tea and you both sat yourselves down at the opposite ends of the couch, slightly turned so you could look at each other and you could focus your eyes on your cup, were things getting too awkward. “You want me to choke you when I’m inside you, correct?” You nodded. “Okay, how hard do you want it? I could safely make you pass out if you want to.”

That kind of scared you and you cleared your throat to speak up. “Uh gently, please. I want to feel it, but I don’t want to think I may die.” Lucifer smiled with understanding and nodded, before blowing his tea a little.

“How often do you want me to do it?” “I have not really thought about that… at least once?”

“Ok then we will see if it seems appropriate to do it again after the first time.”

You both nodded and a little awkwardness spread over the silence between you two, as you took a careful sip of the hot tea. “Well if it gets too much, just snap your fingers and I’ll stop.” You nodded in confirmation, letting the devil take the lead. “Do you know how to chose someone?”

You shook your head. “I mean it is pretty straight forward, right?” Lucifer sighed and put his mug on the coffee table, before taking yours and putting it next to his. He gestured you closer and you both scooted towards the middle of the couch. His warm fingers moved towards your neck and rested just below your jawline. He felt around, before settling his fingers somewhere.

“I’m going to apply some pressure, see if you think it feels comfortable.” You hummed and Lucifer squeezes gently on either side of your esophagus.

“I can still breathe,” you murmured as he held you.

Lucifer let go of you and chuckled. “That’s the point, darling. You didn’t think I was supposed to crush your windpipe, did you?” You looked away. “Oh dearie, you did…” He cleared his throat before turning your head back to him with a single finger on your jawline. “Choking,” he stared as his fingers slowly went back to your neck, “is not about depriving you of oxygen.” With his other hand, he grabbed yours and brought a finger to where his thumb rested on your neck. As he pressed your finger against your own skin, you could feel your pulse. “Instead, I am restricting the oxygen from going to your brain by blocking the arteries in your neck.”

“Oh.” He chuckled at your reaction and let your hand go, which dropped back into your lap. Lucifer continued repeatedly squeezing and releasing, checking in with you to figure out the right pressure and place. It took a good hour at least and your tea had gotten cold on the table. “I think we got it down,” you breathed out as Lucifer let go of you again.

“How so?” Lucifer questioned in a teasing tone. You took his hand and slid it inside your pants and underwear. A devilish grin morphed onto his lips. “Oh, I think you may be right, darling.”

-----

Lucifer wanted you, before his fingers found their place on your neck again. His cock was at your opening and as he slid inside your wet hole, he squeezed firmly. At first you didn’t notice it much, but then after a few seconds, you felt a pressure in your head. You breathed heavily as Lucifer slowly fucked you with his hand on your neck. When your eyes rolled a little, Lucifer let go and you gasped. The haze at the edges of your vision disappeared and you could breathe freely again as he lifted your legs up and nearly folded you in half before going to pound town. You let out a long moan as he made you feel good with his cock.

“Do it again,” you whined and he spread your legs. Lucifer’s pace did not relent as his hand reached for your throat. You lifted your head up to give him better access. Your hands rested on the back of your legs, keeping yourself open for him. “Thank you,” you moaned as that same haze came back to you. Lucifer held you longer this time and you loved it, until things started to get too hazy and the fear dropped like a bucket of ice water over your body. You scratched at his arm, trying to get him off you. It took a second for Lucifer to notice and let go. He slipped out of you as you rolled away and bent over, gasping for air. You sucked in air, regaining clarity with each passing second. When you were finally clear-minded again, you noticed the glass held out for you. You took the water from Lucifer’s hand and drank half of it, before putting it on the night stand.

“Are you all right, love?” You nodded and lied down on your back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have held you that long, but you seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did, I just… Suddenly didn't… Sorry I totally forgot to just snap my fingers.” You eyed the red scratches on his arm. Lucifer smiled and waved it off.

He lied down next to you and held your hand. “Could happen. It was your first time after all. Want to wait a little and then try again or are you done for tonight?”

You shrugged and moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. “Can we just lie here for a little, before I decide?”

Lucifer put his arm around you and hummed. He gently placed a kiss on your head. “Of course, whatever my handsome boy needs.”

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer one shot #Lucifer x male reader #lucifer x trans male reader #bottom reader #trans male reader #trans reader #male reader #x male reader #lemon

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nadisabug · 3 years

Text

Take On Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson! reader

Warnings: terribly written, I apologize, cannon divergence (smol divergence), song fic?????

Summary: Y/n won’t believe that The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington likes her.

A/N: aaahhhhh okay so I woke up at seven am and this song was playing and I had a fever dream idea for a fic so it’s terrible no beta we die like men

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

I was mid-bite in my ice cream when Steve "The Hair" Harrington popped the question. I slowly backed away from the ice cream and stared at him dumbfoundedly.

He was leaning on the register, his bicep prominent and flexed. He had lost the cap he usually wore, and even though he had probably been wearing it all day, his hair still looked good. He was flashing me a drop dead gorgeous smile and his eyes were almost sparkling.

Gods I was fucked.

This wasn't the first time he had asked me out by any means. He had been hinting at it every time we saw each other for the past half year. This was the first time he was so up front about it, though. Usually I could act stupid and brush it off.

I hid the heat creeping up on my cheeks by digging in my purse. I grabbed a wad of bills and slapped them on the counter.

"Sorry, I got to go pick up Dusty from AV club," I smiled tightly, lying through my clenched teeth. "Keep the change." And with that, I nearly ran from Scoops Ahoy ice cream. I left so quickly that i didn't see Dustin, my brother, popping out from behind the counter.

"Dude, sorry. You'll get her next time," Dusty sighed.

"Next time?" Steve scoffed. "Buddy, there will be no next time."

"Come on, she likes you I swear," Dusty pleaded.

"Sure didn't look like it," Robin piped in. She was sitting on the passway holding a white board that said 'Steve Sucks' with 17 check marks below it and 'Y/n said yes' with no check marks below it. "I think that one counted for two," she announced, adding two check marks to the 17.

"Shut up Robin," Dusty snapped. He turned back to Steve. "Please Steve you gotta believe me!"

"Okay, okay, fine Henderson," Steve sighed collapsing on the ice cream counter. "Then why does she keep blowing me off?"

Dusty smiled. "For that, we do some recon."

~~~~~~~

I was laying on my bed when I heard a knock on my door. I looked up from the book I was reading.

"Momma?" I called curiously.

"No! It's your favorite brother," Dusty announced, throwing open the door. I smiled and put my book on the night stand.

"Indeed it is. To what do I owe this pleasure," I sat up and patted the bed next to me.

Dusty graciously threw himself into the bed and smiled up at me. "A brother can't want to talk to his only sister who he loves?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. Dusty was always so bad at lying. "Spill, now," I ordered.

Dusty sighed and slumped down. He cursed under his breath - which I chose to ignore under the circumstances- and then looked up at me again.

"Steve told me he likes you. Like a lot."

At that confession, I hopped off the bed, turning away to hide my blush. I had just blown Steve off now here Dusty was telling me Steve likes me? Something was off.

"Since when did Steve trust you enough to tell you that kind of stuff?" I questioned, towering over Dusty who was still sitting on the bed.

"Well we've been hanging out." Dusty couldn't even maintain eye contact with me. He was hiding something.

"Where were you today after school?"

"AV clu-"

"Oh my gods you were at Scoops Ahoy." I slapped my hands over my face and turned around to hide my shame.

"No I wasn't!" Dusty tried to cover his tracks, but it was already too late.

"Dusty, there is no AV club today." The pieces clicked together in my mind. "Oh my gods Steve knows I lied to him."

"Yeah! Which really hurt him because he likes you!"

"No he doesn't Dusty!" I threw myself face first onto the bed and screamed.

"Yes he does! He's literally asked you out so many times."

I twisted, propping myself up on my elbow so that I could look at Dusty. "That does not mean he likes me."

"How so?" Dusty huffed and folded his arms.

"Because, Dusty, he's Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, he probably just wants to get back at Nancy for ditching him for Will's brother."

"What? No," Dusty scoffed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "She left him for The Freak so he's going to date The Psycho Bitch."

Dusty got a soft look of his face for a moment. "Is that what they call you?"

"Doesn't matter Dusty. What matters is that Steve doesn't actually like me. He just thinks he does because he's torn up about Nancy."

Dusty thought for a second. "What if he proved it to you?"

I looked at Dusty. "What do you mean?"

"What if he actually proved to you that he really did like you?"

I shrugged. "Then I'd date him and losing Dart won't come and bite us in the butt."

"Really sis you had to bring that up?"

"He ate Mews," I whisper yelled, careful in case Mom heard.

"About that, we finished translating the message, come on," he rolled off the bed, grabbing my arm and pulling me over in the process.

"Ow! No I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I can't see Steve after lying to him like that!"

"Oh just come on, he'll forgive you. He's madly in love with you."

I doubted that but I went with Dusty anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything we went through, we had a moment to pretend like everything was okay. The middle school dance.

I was upset that Dusty insisted that Steve take him to the dance and not me, but I knew they had something like a brother bond so I wan't too upset. I volunteered to be one of the high schooler chaperones, mainly under Joyce's wishes. She wanted at least someone there to watch Will like a hawk. Or two.

So Nancy and I were here. At the punch table.

"So, how's college going," Nancy piped up.

I had to be honest, I didn't really like her. Not with the way she broke Steve's heart. But I had to remain cordial. I guess.

"Good."

"I heard you got scholarships."

"It was the only way I could go."

"Yeah. With the.... deaths..." she said carefully, "at the Hawkins Post, they're hiring again. So Jonathan and I got our jobs back."

"That's great." I paused. "Not the deaths, the getting jobs back."

"Yeah."

We lapsed into silence after that.

I scanned the room to see that the boys had split off to dance. Some girl was dancing with Will, Mike was dancing with El, and Lucas was with Max.

Dusty wasn't with them though.

I looked around the room to see him sitting on the bleachers holding back tears. My heart lurched at the sight.

"I'm going to go dance with him," Nancy announced. I was about to let her when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed Nancy's arm.

"Wait," I ordered. I saw a girl with visible braces wearing a baby blue dress approach Dusty. He immediately perked up and held out his hand for her. She took it and they walked to the dance floor.

"Nice call," Nancy smiled.

I just dropped her arm, nodded, and turned away to watch them.

After a couple of hours, the kids started leaving one by one. Around the time we were at half capacity, Dusty came up to me.

"May I have this dance?" He awkwardly bowed with his hand outstretched. I had to stifle a giggle.

I looked at Nancy. She waved me off. "Go ahead, I can serve punch."

"Of course, mi' Lord," I giggled and took his hand.

He dragged me all the way to the middle of the dance floor and began to dance with me.

"Sure Suzie won't be jealous about baby blue dancing with you?"

"She knows I only have eyes for her," Dusty rolled his eyes at the notion that she could possibly be jealous.

"Turn around," I began in a sing songy voice. "Look at what you see!"

"Oh shut up," Dusty growled and shoved me.

I laughed but kept dancing with him.

At that moment the song changed, and Dusty smiled. My back was to the stage so I couldn't see what was going on, but I assumed it was just the band preparing.

As soon as I heard the signature synth, I squealed.

"I love this song, Dusty did you request it?"

"Sorta," he grinned.

Then I heard his voice.

"Ba ba-ba ba. We're talking away, I don't know what I'm to say, I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you shying away."

I dropped Dusty's shoudlers and turned around. When I did I saw Steve "The Hair" Harrington on the stage, mic in hand, singing.

Then he pointed straight at me.

"I'll be coming for your love, okay?"

"No fucking way," I whispered.

"Hell fucking yeah, get it Harrington!" Dusty cheered behind me.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," he sang, the last word high and pitchy. It was so bad. So awfully terrible. He was making a complete fool of himself.

But I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"So needless to say, of odds and ends, but I'll be stumbling away slowly learning that life is okay. Say after me, it's no better to be safe than sorry."

It was only then that I noticed that the middle schoolers around me had parted to make a huge circle, with me at the center.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," Steve sang even worse than the first time. Then he tossed the mic into the crowd and jumped off the stage. Then he began to dance, horribly. He did the running man, switching to the sprinkler, which then phased into a Charleston. It was so horrible but I couldn't help but smile. After the dance break, he turned to the crowd with his hand out. Miraculously, someone handed him the microphone.

"Oh, the things that you say, yeah is it life or just to play my worries way? You're all the things I've got to remember," he sang and walked towards me. I tried to take a couple steps back, but someone - most likely my beloved Dusty - shoved me forward. Hard. I stumbled and fell into Steve, who caught me.

"You're shying away, I'll be coming for you anyway." Steve clicked the microphone off and held it out to the crowd. Someone took it quickly and he brought his other arm around me. I would like to say that I tried to stand up away from him, but I didn't. I just let Steve hold me.

"Take on me..." Steve sang to me and only me. With each word he pulled my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He then began to sway softly with the music, dancing with me. We danced as the crowd around us reformed, the middle schoolers going back to dancing. It was almost like nothing happened.

But to me everything thing did.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," he whispered.

I smiled.

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

Sorry not sorry Dusty deserved some one to dance with I don’t make the rules

Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask, dm, or comment!

#i am so sorry this is so bad #sorry this is a crack fic #please forgive me for i am thirsty #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stanger things x reader #stranger things

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an-ambivalent · 4 years

Text

Yandere! Claude [WMMAP]

WARNING: This post contains yandere themes and mentions of other toxic behaviours that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So, read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not condone this behaviour irl. And uh, PSA, I haven’t been writing for a long time so its rusty :’) ok thanks.

Fandom: Who Made Me a Princess

Pairing: Reader-Insert

No beta, we die like men.

dedicated to my friend @spiritualotaku

First Meeting

~ After the betrayal of his brother and his first partner, and then losing Diana, the only time Claude would be able to “love” again is after the black magic he casted upon himself has done its job and erased the memory of his last deceased partner. Even though he had hoped to freeze his heart so he would not be hurt anymore, a part of the spell worked but in a twisted away. So, the next time he does love someone else, his feelings were going to be different than how he may have felt for Penelope and had felt for Diana.

~ There’s not really a particular scenario to exist that would be a catalyst for his “interest” in you. That would be something that would develop over time, so you would have to be in a position where you interact with him frequently. Nothing like a maid or something because Claude always keeps these types of servant roles at an arm's distance. It would have to be a role where you are able to interact with the Emperor, but not significant enough that he would become aware of you right off the bat. Perhaps you’re the blacksmith responsible for the royal guards’ weapons, or the assistant of the magician who is the healer for the knights; being in an occupation that allows you to have regular interactions with Felix, who is completely trusted by Claude and friendly with you, would allow Claude to have a more favourable first impression of you.

~In this instance, let’s assume the role of the assistant healer. The royal guard magician healer and you were scheduled to visit to conduct the regular health check ups that happen for the guards. Since Felix was not there, you were told by your senior to go find and do his check ups and they would look after the rest. One of the castle workers guided you to the royal garden where you see your client, and the cold ruthless Emperor he is assigned to protect.

“Blessings and Glory upon the sun of the Obelian Empire,” you and the maid greet simultaneously bowing, and both Felix and Claude’s gaze shift towards you. Recognition flashes across Felix’s face when he sees you, but the coldness glistening in Claude’s bright blue jeweled eyes is unmatched and new, as a murderous aura starts to radiate off him. You and the maid freeze under his overwhelming terrifying presence.

“You must not value your life so much if you barge in here however as you please and disrupt my peace,” he said stoically. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the maid beginning to tremble in fear. Along with this, although your face was looking at the ground in order to avoid the Emperor's gaze, you felt a spike of magic from him. You didn’t mean to, but you subconsciously released your own magic output, and put up a defensive shield around you and the maid in case the self-entitled Emperor was going to harm her or you for “disrupting his [poor] peace.”

This, of course did not go unnoticed by Claude who narrowed his eyes at you, wondering how you could be gutsy enough to usher him a challenge like that. Luckily, the situation did not escalate to that point since Felix jumped in.

“Your Majesty, please don’t harm them. They’re here for me, I had forgotten I am meant to see the magician today. I ask that you do not hold them accountable for this.”

Claude fixed his cold stare on Felix for a few seconds, who was accustomed to it, so he was able to hold his ground. And then,it was obviously evident that his gaze was fixated on you with the way you felt goosebumps rise at the nape of your neck.

“I wasn’t aware the magician was a woman,” Claude pointed out, and the way he stated this made it seem like an accusation of some sort because everyone flinched as he had spoken. Felix stepped in front of you and the maid to act as a shield, and addressed Claude with a stern tone.

“I’m sorry for the trouble that’s been caused for you because of me, Your Majesty. To not be of inconvenience to you anymore, we will excuse ourselves.” Felix bowed, and then led you and the maid out of the garden. You would have breathed out a sigh in relief and thanked Felix, but your breath and your words were stuck in your throat (coronavirus). Because for the entire time until the garden was out of your sight, the cold and intense gaze of the royal jeweled eyes, stayed fixated on you.

How it happens

~Although your first meeting with the Emperor had started off with a slight rift to say the least, other employees in the castle had noticed that an odd acquaintanceship had developed between you and Claude. Actually, it was an acquaintanceship in their eyes. In reality, it was completely one-sided because you entertained his whims to stay alive. He was the Emperor who could have your head whenever he wanted, and you were forced by your magician boss to interact with him in hopes that you making a good impression on him would somehow benefit him.

~Claude’s interest in you had developed from the things he heard about you from the knights. They spoke of how attentive you were to their care each time, and whenever they were suffering from a painful injury, you made sure to numb the area around that injury to reduce their pain as much as possible. They spoke kind words about your humour, and the homemade sweets you always brought with you to give to them once their check up was over; it was a small action, but the thought behind it was really appreciated by the knights. You conversed, informed, and asked for their consent each time before you did something unlike your boss, who just wanted to finish the job as soon as possible.

Claude also recalled how you had instantly jumped to the defense of that incompetent maid when he had unleashed his mana to intimidate her -- you had done this as if it was second nature to you. You had acted against him and not even paused to consider the consequences you may have faced for going against the Emperor. It intrigued him and he wanted to understand you. Although Obelia’s residents’ quality of life had improved after Claude became the sovereign and reduced the corruption from his father’s and brother’s reign, there were still many greedy and power hungry scum that he had to deal with. For this reason, his desire to approach someone seemingly as kind as you became stronger.

And so, your regular tea time with Claude commenced.

Yandere

~Once Claude develops affection for you, he would have possessive traits as a yandere. He has lost so much already too, to make sure it does not happen again, he would want you to belong solely to him. He would keep you away from everyone else.

~He will be clingy; there is no respect or regard for any boundaries you set. If he wants to touch you, hug you, and show affection, but you find his touch aversive or ever try to pull away, he will simply ignore you and force you to comply with him. If you struggle too much, he will use a spell that acts a relaxant to cease your thrashing.

~Although Claude is rather temperamental and threatens people easily, he would have a bit more patience with you. But, he will not hesitate to threaten you if you give him too much trouble. If anything or anyone else tries to hurt you or take you away from him, he will hurt them. Ruthlessly.

~He keeps you isolated so the chances of someone else trying to steal you away from him are low. However, in any instances you were out in public, he expects you to stick to his side and not initiate or respond to anyone. He expects you to stay quietly and obediently by his side, and let him do the talking for you to keep you fully to himself.

General things

~Once your relationship has been there for enough time, he will gift you your own palace. But even before that, he will spoil you lavishly with the most beautiful jewels and clothes he wants to see you in, or think you will look beautiful in.

~When it is just you and him, he prefers you to wear simple robe dresses that are revealing and easy to access. When he wants to cuddle you, and with any physical intimacy, he enjoys the touch of your warm skin against his own.

~When he is stressed, he likes you to lay down on your lap and nap while you play with his hair.

And Claude is a boobs man

#yandere claude #wmmap #who made me a princess #yandere x reader #claude de alger obelia #wmmap fanfiction #claude x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #wmmap headcanons #yandere claude de alger obelia #yandere wmmap #claude de alger obelia x reader #possessive #jealousy #ambivalent writes

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

Text

SunaOsa fanfic recs: valentines edition~~

SunaOsa is one of my all time favorite ships and this past month, there has been/was an exchange going on between writers (here is the link) and artists (separately) and because I don’t have a life (or maybe it’s just that SunaOsa is my life LOL), I’m here to tell you some of my favorite fics from the pile :D However, as much as I love a ship, sometimes fluff is too asajndajnd so mind you there will probably be a lot of good fics missing just cause I couldn’t get myself to read more fluff (or angst) LOL (IM SORRY but sometimes I also just can’t motivate myself to read a fic no matter how good it looks OOPS).

As always, please check warning and tags before reading any of these fics, and take care of yourselves!!!!

In no particular order (jk the order is last updated haha) tho my favorites will have *** next to them :)

***glass stained black by unrequitedangst (E) 31k // Mafia AU’s are some of my favorite kinds of fics, and this one did not disappoint! The character development of Osamu is really legit and despite being mafia, it’s not that heavy or angst of a fic (but you should still definitely read tags and warnings first). It’s an Osamu heavy fic, and if you’re into reading him being stupid, go right ahead LOL.

redux by catalysis (T) 2.3k // ngl I hate break-up fics with a passion truely (when you can’t handle fluff or angst what to do) but I liked the concept for this one hehe (so I made myself suffer LOL). It was short, but cute !!! and the unspoken words really hit me in the FEELS (so what I’m dramatic fight me LOL).

Impropriety by DeathBelle (T) 5.7k // royalty~ I love the banter between them in this fic and we DO stan respectful Osamu yes we do <33333 The relationships between not only SunaOsa but SunaAtsu (because even though it isn’t really SunaAtsu best friend agenda, I can delude myself into think it is okay :/) are done so well and so nice he’s mean Osamu is best Osamu.

***what are you waiting for? by Slumber (T) 3.7k // MIGHT BE MY FAV FIC FROM THIS EXCHANGE!!! It made me cackle and I love how they learn new things about each other!!!! Like the development is so good and Suna is really doing the MOST!! Also, I love recursive endings AHHHHHH!

agape by sketchedsmiles (T) 11.7k // soulmates, then they were SOULMATES! (ik that’s not how it goes but pls just humor me LOL) This fic really depicted Osamu’s insecurities/internal turmoil/overthinking really well and the realization he has vs Suna’s AHJAFKASFJ. I love confident Suna.

fireside by tartaglia (starkartifices) (T) 3.6k // we do love the subtle flirt flirt don’t we hehe ;) It’s short, it’s fluff, and it’s funny - what more could you ask for? Also whats a vigilante fic if there isn’t at least one pun about being a vigilante LOL.

Over and Over Again by tookumade (G) 6.4k // I would like to order one reassuring, reliable Miya Osamu for myself please and thank you :((( The way the relationship is so GOOD like both Suna and Osamu pick each other up and they know the other has their back ajfhkajdfl. I would purchase all the onigiri with the deal Suna was proposing ;) Onigirintarou.

from here to eternity by TheGlovedArtist (T) 6.6k // I for one am a big fan of mythology and stuff (heroes of olympus but like IDR any of the plot LOL) so of course I read this fic. The snark appearances of Sakusa and Komori gave me LIFE and the difference in descriptions from Astumu and Kita cracked me up. This is another respectful Osamu fic (yes I love these) and in this one it was a ‘I save you as much as you save me’ type beat LOL. Gotta love rings.

***Subtle Inarizaki Dating by sifuhotman (T) 15.2k // THIS ONE. Even if you don’t read the whole thing, I beg of you, please, I AM ON MY KNEES, read the SID for Astumu. It is worth the loss of all your brain calls I guarantee it. It made me giggle so freakin much. Suna might be an A-Hole but he’s OUR A-Hole <3

Forever Begins with 8 Seconds by subtlehues (T) 3.9k // FLUFF hehe, I love their dynamic in this one it’s very good and cute and everything great! Also, I am all for the head cannon that Suna cannot cook, yes pls. Also SUPERPOWERS whooooooooh.

***try again, and again, and again by rosegoldwriting (T) 2.6k // SOULMATES! If you ever wanted a specific soulmate AU! for SunaOsa look no further, it probably comes out LOL. I love this concept of them just being like ‘WTF’ everyday, it gives me life. Also, count how many soulmate AU’s you recognized because I just thought about it and I think it’d be fun LOL. (I went back and I think 11 but I’m not sure LOL)

let us burn by SilverMoonT (G) 13.5k // I am always up for a nice vampire Osamu and witch Suna (which believe it or not, is my second one because I read the other one by this writer LOL) This one is more Suna POV and it really goes into his fears and desires, and I like the way Osamu pushes him to live more freely.

***reasons to microwave an elixir by spiritscript (T) 8.2k // THIS ONE. UGH I love, and it’s funny and cute and it EVEN HAS CRIME (kinda not really but yes)! I love the quiet moments they have and the PET AHHHHHHH! We love medic Osamu :DDDDD But also the betrayal and the sparring (and the irony at the end LOL) AJSKJNFK.

we fall between by stringendos (T) 14.7k // honestly the entire time I was just screaming at my computer, begging for them to hurry up and realize, but alas this is a ~slow burn~ for a reason and the tag ‘exes who act like theyre married’ really is the reason I read it and I do not regret LOL. Also bless Matsuda and stan her.

All the Time in the World by minie_ai (M) 8.8k // we love immortality! Denial! And Suna mentally filing away blackmail against people (namely Astumu) LOL. Running away from your problems is always the answer (I am saying this is a not sarcastic manner because I too, run away from my problems LOL) but ramen is ALWAYS a good answer. We love ourselves some emotional constipation LOL.

***none but you by broikawa (T) 7.2k // everything is a competition always LOL, not that I’m complainin but still LOL EVERYTHING. I really love this one because I love the progression and cock-block SakuAtsu hehe. I love them being synchronized idiots <3

it all comes back to you, (my home) by iritaescents (T) 4.5k // FOREVER, WE STAN FOREVER. Anyway, LOL this was is very very cute and fluff and not slow burn, it fast burn LOL. It’s a cute fic to read and it even has our favorite, now say it with me SOULMATES LOL.

Can't help falling in bed with you by tirralirra (T) 6.7k // here we see a 5 + 1 with points for the title (I think it’s very funny LOL my humor is bad ;)) Not that it really needs extra points because it’s a great fic in itself LOL but I really liked the title so I felt the need to share this with you all (OOPS). This was so cute, and the + 1 is HILARIOUS.

It’s no longer up :(((((( -> love's consequences by xginpuff (T) 6.5k // WARNINGS AND TAGS been a while since we had an angsty fic in this list (LOL the way I just tried to avoid all of them hehe). I read the tags but ngl I was still surprised later LOL maybe I’m just dumb, but anyway IK it starts out a bit confusing, but after you read more, you’ll get into it!

***sunagashi by bastigod (T) 9.8k // if there’s anything I like more than mythology, it’s folklore LOL. I love this fic and the plot is written so artfully AHDSAJN. Also the scene with the Ume-chan and her comment (so snarky I love). Also they way I went through so much trouble trying to figure out the kanji LOL (SPOILER it’s miyarin hehe)

catch me (while i'm still runnin') by lunarins (T) 4.3k // first and foremost, may we have a moment of silence for Komori and his eyebrows..... Continuing, this fic was so good because I love a good heist hehe. Their slight of hand abilities really doing the most LOL, and the ending OMG. I love the way the writer added in how they appeared to others during the heist, it really made it so good! Ugh to have a painting class and almost die LOL.

***if we get this right by Slumber (G) 5k // OLD FRIEND plsplspls I love this fic and I love how Osamu slowly relearns who he knew Suna as AHHH. The ending, again UGH, I really loved it and their banter with one another.

The Study of Suna Rintarou by DeathBelle (T) 6.1k // PLEASE the way Osamu kept getting offended omg. But also the effort Suna puts into getting to know Osamu, I was in ~love~. Read to me Osamu, READ TO ME. But also the Osamu is an oblivious MF agenda is alive and well within this fic hehe.

Take a Hint by pancake_surprise (G) 2.3k // ok so I had just read a tumbr post about the one bed thing and then I saw this fic. It was like the stars aligned okay? I was like, ig I HAVE to read it now hehe. But seriously read it, it’s cute and like everything else, of course there’s a challenge to be made LOL.

Heatwave by pancake_surprise (G) 2.1k // the way they were dating without knowing they were dating man. The tag ‘Didn't Know They Were Dating‘ more accurate than the ‘first dates’ one LOL jk but actually tho am I kidding? It’s the first official one IG. LOL anyway, we do love the doin of the defining of relationships. Yup.

If you made it all the way down here, CONGRATS LOL. Like I said, I didn’t read all of them (sadly) and these were the ones i did read LOL. I might add more depending on whether I can motivate myself into reading fics I know will be good LOL so we’ll see heh. Honestly, I thought I was gonna get word counted, but YAY we finished (for now hehe). Also sorry for any possible typos (is this no beta we die like men?) I’m running on 90 min of sleep so my engrish be strugglin LOL. Be safe and wear masks :)

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hoebii · 3 years

Text

Who

Pairing : Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre : Angst, light Fluff

Warnings : Cheating, grieving, past break up

Got inspired by the song ‘Who’ if you couldn’t tell sdaxhfvgf. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for beta reading this and giving me pointers to make this better <3 This is the first fic that has been proof read and edited so we don’t die like men this time. As usual, send me any promts/ideas/requests you might have and I’ll try my best to do it justice. Feedback is always appreciated! :D

~~~~~~~~~~~

Our minds have new eyes and visions of you

Girl, I think I need a minute

To figure out what is, what isn't

The phone vibrated yet again, screen lighting up to display the caller ID. Yoongi decided to ignore it, head resting on his propped up hands.

There was a storm brewing inside his mind, and he didn’t know what to do anymore.

He knew the people around him were worried, saw the concern in their eyes every time he passed by and he hated it. He hated that he let it get this far, hated how uncertain he felt.

His mind couldn’t help but go back to the past, the memories coming back to haunt him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

These choices and voices,

they're all in my head

Sometimes you make me feel crazy

Sometimes, I swear I think you hate me like uh

I need a walk, I need a walk, I need to get out of here “I’ll always love you, no matter what the world throws at us.” She spoke sternly, her hands cupping his face. At that moment he felt like he was on the top of the world, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes met hers.

“You promise?”

“I promise, my love.” A scoff escaped Yoongi’s lips at the memory. “Bullshit,” he growled, gripping his hair, trying not to scream. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, tears streaming down his face as he stood by the door helplessly.

“I can’t keep doing this, Yoongi. I’m done,” she replied, continuing to pack her bags.

“We can fix this, please.” “No we can’t! Open your eyes Yoongi, there’s no fixing this anymore.”

He felt his heart shatter with each passing second as he stood there watching her. He moved towards her, grabbing her and pulling her in an embrace. He felt her stiffen at the contact but he refused to let go, heart racing.

“Please…” he whimpered.

She sighed, melting into his embrace after a while, wrapping her hands around him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine… just, don’t do that again.”

“I promise.”

For some reason, he couldn’t feel at ease even after that.

Yoongi slammed his hand down on the table, his breathing erratic. He grabbed his jacket and phone before walking out of his studio, where he saw the other boys standing about. He knew they were here for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

“Where are you going, hyung?” asked the maknae cautiously.

“For a walk, I need to clear my head.” Yoongi replied, brushing past his concerned members and out of the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~

'Cause I need to know

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you?

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

He rushed down the sidewalk, no destination in mind. His head was down, hood of his jacket up and his hands shoved inside his pockets.

He slowed down after some time, legs tired from walking for so long. Looking around to inspect his surroundings, Yoongi realised he had walked to the park near her house. The same park where they had their first date, the park where they came to look for peace when it all became too much. It held such precious memories, before when he looked back on those, his heart would swell with affection, body warm from happiness. But now, it did nothing except hurt him more. His heart ached as he relived the sweet memories that would always turn bitter.

“Look at those kids! They’re so cute!” She gushed, leaning against Yoongi, hands intertwined in her lap.

Yoongi chuckled as he watched the children run past them, laughter filling the air as they played around.

“I wonder how our children are gonna look? Well, then again, with parents like us they’re bound to be amazing!”

Yoongi hummed, playing with her fingers, heart picking up its pace at the thought of their possible future.

Yoongi sat on the bench overlooking the park. His eyes scanned the area, thinking about all the memories he had created here. His mind drifted off to the last time he’d been here, his heart constricting in pain.

He was waiting at the gate of the park, looking for her with flowers in her hand. His gummy smile impossible to hide, heart thrumming happily; it was their anniversary after all! He swayed back and forth, excitement barely kept under control when he thought about all the plans he’d made for them to enjoy the day.

15 minutes passed with still no sign of her. Yoongi checked his clock one more time before he called her again. Her phone rang a few times before it sent him to her voicemail yet again.

Feeling disappointment slowly take over his heart, he deflated a little.

Had she forgotten? She couldn’t have, right? Perhaps she’s stuck at work, thought Yoongi to himself. He shook his head before deciding to enter the park. Taking a walk might help, and who knows? Maybe she’ll arrive in that time too! He tried convincing himself, not wanting to lose hope just yet.

He walked by the little ice cream stand they had in the park when he thought he saw someone familiar stand near it. He squinted at the figure, their back was turned towards him. He shrugged and was about to walk away, to continue his walk through the park when the person turned around.

Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock when he saw his lover standing there, laughing with another man. He felt his heart turn to dust when he saw her lean up to kiss him.

“S-sweetheart?” Yoongi stuttered out loud, at which her head whipped around to face him, her expression akin to a deer caught in headlights, mouth falling open.

“Y-yoongi, I can explain.”

Yoongi shook his head, eyes filled with unshed tears. He dropped the flowers and ran away, paying no mind to her calls.

Yoongi leaned back on the bench, lips lifted into a bitter smile. One of his hands ran through his hair, ruffling it as he said out loud, “Should’ve realised before. Why did I ever believe you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Feeling hypnotized by the words that you said

Don't lie to me, just get in my head

When the morning comes, you're still in my bed

But it's so, so cold

It had been days since the incident at the park and Yoongi was a mess. He had kicked her out of his house the next day, but he couldn’t keep her out of his mind.

His friends told him to move on, that she wasn’t good for him, but he couldn’t. He needed answers.

He had finally gathered up enough courage to face her again, finally answering her calls, and calling her over. He told himself he wouldn’t let himself be swayed by her, that he was only doing this to get answers, nothing more.

But there he was now, laying awake beside her, staring off into space, mind once again in chaos. This wasn’t how he wanted the night to unravel, but her sweet words lured him in, hypnotized him. He was weak when it came to her, it didn’t surprise either of them that he had given in so easily.

Her sweet lies got into his head, making his mind fuzzy, heart beating fast as if this was the first time they had been together. But now that it was over, his mind was overthinking everything. It felt cold, his heart heavy with emotions he didn’t want to deal with.

He wanted to let go and savour this night, wanted to forget how his heart ached at the mere sight of her. But he felt so, so cold, so filthy and used. No matter how much he tried to suppress those feelings, he couldn’t, so he laid there, regretting everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you? (Who are you?)

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Yoongi sat there, his mind running a thousand miles per second. He had his eyes closed and head leaned back, trying to keep the tears at bay.

His thoughts came to a halt when he felt someone situate themselves beside him. He cracked one eye open to look at who it was.

His heart clenched again, this time from guilt, when he saw it was his dearest maknae that had come to him.

“Did you follow me here, Jungkook-ah?”

“I was worried… I didn’t want you to do something rash,” came a timid reply from the man beside him.

Yoongi chuckled, sitting up straight. “I’m not going to do anything rash, Jungkook. Don’t worry.”

“I’m still worried though, I miss you. You haven’t spent any time with us, with me, for such a long time now. You know we’re all here for you. It might hurt but keeping it all in won’t make it better, so let us help you, hyung. Let us be there for you,” Yoongi heard Jungkook say, concern pouring from each of his words.

Yoongi hummed, processing Jungkook’s words for a while.

“You’re right.”

“I… am?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi started, looking at Jungkook, “I shouldn’t have pushed you all away. I’m sorry for being so distant.”

“..Will you come back to the dorms then? It feels so empty without you.”

Yoongi stared at Jungkook, heart feeling a tad lighter than before. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes sparkling. “Do you feel any better? Do you want to go get food with me? I’ll pay!”

“Not really, it still hurts, but your little speech there made me realise I don’t have to do this alone. I have you guys and I’m sure that with you all by my side I’ll feel like the old me soon enough,” Yoongi said, ruffling Junkook’s hair - Jungkook whining at him for ruining his hair -, giving him a small smile. Jungkook beamed back, happy with the answer he’d received.

“Let’s go get lamb skewers, my treat, for ignoring you for this long,” Yoongi said, standing up from the bench. Jungkook exclaimed happily and started walking towards the park exit, smiling brightly.

Yoongi was about to follow when he felt his phone buzz again. Taking it out to check, he realised it was another text from her, but this time rather than ignoring it, he opened the text thread.

He quickly typed one last message to her before blocking the contact and following Jungkook out of the park. His first step towards healing and he couldn’t help but feel proud.

‘You’ve changed, you’re not the one for me anymore. Stop trying to contact me, Y/N. We’re over for good.’

#bts x reader #angst #bts angst #bts #bts yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi #suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #myg #myg angst #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic

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readmorefic · 3 years

Text

Hellooooo friends, strangers, and distinguished guests! My name is Ducky and I am here to announce the

July 2021 Fanfiction Readathon!

What is it? A silly little cross-fandom event/game to make our summer (or winter, for you Southern Hemisphere darlings) reading even more fun!

When is it? July 1 - 31, 2021

Why am I doing this? Because readathons are fun, but I never see them for fanfiction. Also, I thought it would be a great way to boost visibility of lots of different fics and celebrate fanfiction authors!

How does it work? You read fics! I’ve posted a set of 10 prompts for you below to follow when choosing what fics to read, but you don’t have to use every prompt. You can pick and choose which ones you like, do them all, or toss them all out the window and do your own thing! They’re also open to interpretation - if you think a fic fits a prompt, go for it!

Are there any rules? Have fun! But also, leave a comment on each fic you read. This event is partly to give back to the wonderful people who write for us, and I want to make sure they know how appreciated they are! It doesn’t have to be an essay - a simple comment to the tune of ‘I really enjoyed reading this. Thank you for sharing!’ is perfect!

What fandom/pairing is this event for? All of them! I’ve tried to make the prompts open enough that they can be used for nearly any fandom or pairing. Feel free to mix and match for different prompts, or do all of the prompts from the same fandom/pairing. It’s up to you! If you feel extra ambitious, do the prompts multiple times for multiple pairings!

What if I can’t find fics that match the prompts? I’ll be encouraging (and reblogging) everyone who is participating to make a TBR (to be read) post that links to the fics they plan to read. Take a look at what others are reading and see if any of those interest you! You can also search by tag on AO3, browse fic rec lists and user bookmarks, or look at the catalogs of works made from previous events in your fandom(s) (such as Bangs, Reverse Bangs, etc). If you still can’t find anything, send me an ask, and I’ll post it so that others can suggest fics!

I’m not sure how popular this idea will be, but even if it’s just me having fun by myself, I’ll be spreading love to authors and promoting their work, and you guys can jump in any time to play!

With all of that rambling out of the way, here are the prompts!

✨✨✨✨✨

1. Read a fic with a summery word in the title (for example, ‘June’ ‘beach’ ‘vacation’ ‘heat’). For those of you in the Southern Hemisphere, feel free to use a wintery word instead!

2. Read a fic that’s been tagged with something silly (a few examples from my own recent reading: ‘no beta we die like men’ ‘my god the run-ons’ ‘Idiots with a Happy Ending’ ‘Gandalf is shipper trash’)

3. Read a fic by an author you’ve never read before

4. Read a fic that’s less than 10,000 words

5. Read a fic from someone else’s fic rec list or AO3 bookmarks

6. Read a fic written over one year ago

7. Read a fic that’s had fanart made for it

8. Read a fic with five or more words in the title

9. Read a fic that’s first in a series

10. Reread one of your favorite fics

✨✨✨✨✨

Even if you decide you can’t participate, I’d appreciate a reblog to spread to word to others who might like to! Thanks so much for taking the time to check this out, and HAPPY READING!

#bagginshield #stucky #destiel #geraskier #reylo

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Wash Out.4

Banners: @purpleskies1999 Beta: N/A Pairings: Dolphintrainer!Taehyung x SharkDiver!Jin, Mer!Jimin x Reader, Scientist!Namjoon x MerKing!Jungkook, Mer!Yoongi x Mer!Hoseok. Rating: 16+ Genre: Mystery, Romance, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, little bit of Action, Slice of life, Enemies2Lovers, Friends2lovers, Social media au, Fake Texts, Fake Subs. Words: 1k

Summary: Taehyung and his best friend Y/N are Dolphin trainers at Wash Out; Marine Wildlife and Theme Park. When the nerdy marine biologist and resident veterinarian Doctor Kim Namjoon goes missing; the two friends form a ragtag team with Taehyung's rival Seokjin and a…. Fish?

[First] [Prev] [Master List] [Next]

“As you know I have brought you here for something rather important, everything that happens in this room stays in this room?” The CEO smiled a little too excited for Taehyung’s liking, he wasn’t too fussed on what the man had to say preferring to stare intently into a dark tank off to the side. Beside him, you sat staring at the respite tank at Dolly who seemed to be struggling to swim.

“Yesterday afternoon our marine rescue team went out and recovered something we never thought to truly exist, something undiscovered and brilliant for business. Everyone in this room has signed the non-disclosure agreement and cannot talk about this to anyone or they will be fined billions of dollars.”

They looked around at each other and Kim Seokjin looked a little concerned, “Sir, Kim Namjoon the marine biologist was on that boat, where is he?”

“From the report given, he didn’t make it back” The CEO spoke feigning some sort of sympathy, but everyone in the room could see it was insincere. “But I have brought you today to see if we can interact with the creature and get it ready for shows.”

The lights to the tank came on and the thing inside made Taehyung gasp, a merman? Was this a joke? When the merman got over his shock he hid away behind some large rocks and underwater ferns. “What happened to Namjoon?” Seokjin asked, cutting through the commotion, unfazed by the phenomenal creature.

“He was hit in the face by his tail, I think he was knocked unconscious but when I went to get him, he was grabbed by two more of them and they took him away.” The rescue team leader said, looking disappointed in himself “We were struggling with the creature but I should have gone for him straight away. I am at fault.”

“Well since you are here it is time to start interacting with the thing.” The CEO clapped his hands, “we will get him ready for private dives and shows.”

Taehyung watched you slip away ignoring the CEO’s spiel he wasn’t sure you had heard or even looked at the merman. Rather walking to the respite tank to check on Dolly, you stripped into your one piece and jumped in and began trying to soothe her, she mustn’t be feeling good and he was starting to think perhaps she wasn’t just sick. Taehyung watched you rub her belly and the two of you shared a knowing look. Leaving you swimming with her, Seokjin declared he would dive with the creature.

“Are you crazy, do you not see the state of what’s left of the rescue team, three of them had broken bones and are off work for a while,” He argued, “What are you going to do, demand to know why it hit your friend Namjoon, do you want to die as well and make Namjoon’s death in vain?”

“Don’t you dare say his name, you never cared about him, none of you did, he deserved better. Even from me.” Seokjin went to suit up and Taehyung stamped over to the respite tank where he signaled you to get out of the water.

“Suckjin has a death wish, he is going to get into the tank with that thing and probably start a fight and die because he is upset that it probably killed his best friend,” Taehyung pulled you from the water once you reached the edge and sighed exasperatedly, “Tell him he is an idiot”

“I think dolly is pregnant, you know they haven’t been performing the proper health checks on the animals, Namjoon is our closest thing to a vet and he is gone” Y/n hissed and he agreed with your thinking, his suspicions on the young dolphin seemed true. “I will stay with her, she is probably going to give birth over the next few day and I won’t let her do it on her own, if you have any shows, put in my understudy with bubbles”

“Okay, I will let them know” Taehyung went to text the understudy. As he was essentially the leader of the whole dolphin trainers he had all their numbers and would manage them with efficiency. But as he found the name of your stand-in he saw Seokjin walk past. Placing down his phone he stripped into his swimmer. It was normal to come to work in your swimmers because chances were you would get wet or go swimming because that’s what the job entails.

“Let’s follow him, something tells me this won’t end well,” Taehyung sighed and the two of you headed up the steps onto the catwalk on top of the tank and watched Jin put on the last of his scuba gear. He completed his checks before jumping in.

What Taehyung didn’t expect was how calm it was, for a creature to be so ferocious and try to hurt the rescue team he thought the merman would attack like a piranha on a bit of fresh meat. But the peaceful silence was broken when Seokjin’s feet touched the bottom of the tank. The merman attacked.

He clawed at the oxygen tank busting jins breathing tube, before smacking him with his tail and knocking him out. Taehyung jumped in grabbing Jin who was unconscious, by the tank on his back and dragging him up. He had heard the second splash and when he turned to look behind him he saw the merman his arm reached out to him. Then slightly behind the man fish he saw your tiny hand land on its shoulder.

Taehyung wanted to shout at you for following him in and getting close to the dangerous merman, but it was too late the merman turned on you. His hand around your throat for the kill. Taehyung saw more men coming as he continued bringing Jin up to the surface but once they reached the air he pulled Jin out and made sure he was breathing.

Once sure he was breathing fine, Taehyung jumped back in to see you waving the men away. They swam away understanding the hostile situation, Taehyung tried to swim closer watching you wince, you were looking pale and were needing air.

He retreated at your glare, knowing your lung capacity, you both had outrageously good skills holding your breath, he got out of the water. He trusted you and got out watching the distorted scene through the surface. He saw the merman let you go and you swam to the surface. You were swimming up desperate for air and broke the surface with a loud gasp.

“Don’t you ever do that again?” Taehyung hissed, “You could have died.”

Taehyung went to the locker room dressing and helping Seokjin before emerging, he agreed for you to stay and look after Dolly but only if you never stepped foot near the other tank, as it was too dangerous.

How can I save this to read later?

Follow and turn on notifications so you never miss an update

Add your name to a tag list [HERE]

Reblog this post with the hashtag #Washout

Or you can like this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

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alonely-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 36: Dangerous Friends

Summary: Mackenzie and Elijah go to Marcel’s party

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 3314

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there. I’d like to thank @eywizard for beta reading this chapter for me!

Masterlist

On her knees, the seamstress focused on the needle, touching up the pants of her client’s suit as he admired himself in the mirror on his right.

“Damn, I do look good in a suit,” he said, making his friend in the cap laugh.

It wasn’t unusual for the seamstress to answer house calls, no, the only thing unusual about this client was the odd things he said. She felt weird as she focused on her work. She could hear the two men, but not quite comprehend what they were saying to each other, as if the words wouldn’t stick to her brain, turning into an alphabet soup she couldn’t read.

She thought she had heard names, Tina McGreevy and Joshua Rosza. What was the TV saying about them? Perhaps they were missing. No, it wasn’t that. Wait… who were they talking about again? Her mind was foggy and the more she tried to focus, the foggier it got.

“My guy at the docks is gonna come forward as an eyewitness, say he saw those two drunkenly fall into the Mississippi. They’ll be dredging for weeks, no one will come looking around here,” said the man in the cap, whose name she thought started with a ‘T’… Theo? Thibault? No… It was that.

“That’s good, considering one’s dead in a dumpster behind the county morgue and the other one’s a vampire now,” her client said with a chuckle. “Anything else?”

The words danced in her brain, refusing to form a correct sentence, refusing to make sense. As she tried to think back to what had just been said, she inadvertently pricked herself with her needle.

“Ow!”

She sat back on her knees and looked at her bloody finger. The man, whose name she thought might be Mark, crouched before her with a smile.

“Allow me, darling,” he said as he took her hand and brought the injured finger to his mouth.

She let him do it, even though her entire body was screaming at her to get up and go. Her mind was loud with alarms, screaming at her that it wasn’t safe, but she couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything but smile. His friend spoke up again.

“I sent four nightwalkers to look into a werewolf sighting in the Quarter. I haven’t heard from them since.”

Mark, or whatever his name was, lost his smile as he let go of her hand and sighed.

“That makes ten dead nightwalkers in the last week. You think the werewolves are back in town trying to start some trouble?”

“Look. I know you and Klaus are friends, but the fact is, since the Originals showed up…”

“Oh, come now, Thierry, you’re not still upset about that little toxic werewolf bite I gave you, are you?”

The seamstress barely registered the stranger who had just come into the fitting room. She felt like she was supposed to ignore him, to ignore them, to silence them out, and so she did.

“I see you’ve given him free rein of your compound now, too,” Thierry said with disappointment and disapproval.

“Yes. Well, seeing as my family and I lived here, built the place, in fact…”

“All right, come on,” Mark, or perhaps his name was Maxwell, interrupted their argument calmly, “you know the drill. Thierry is my guy, inner circle. Klaus is my old-time friend and sire. He’s also a guest here,” he reminded his friend. “Peace, all right?” he asked Thierry who nodded with a grimace. “All right,” he nodded as well. “What do you need, my brother?”

“I don’t need anything, just wanted to let you know Elijah accepted your invitation.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled. “I hope you told him the rules.”

Klaus laughed. “He knows the rules, though I can’t promise he’ll follow them.”

“What about the witch?”

“Mackenzie? She used to love rules, would rather die than break them, actually. Now… not so much. But, no worries,” he added quickly to reassure his friend, “tonight is a party, no one expects a fight.”

“Right,” Marcel smiled unconvinced. “Let’s just have fun, eh?”

***

“So, how’s Matt?” Mackenzie asked, picking up a strawberry from the bowl on the kitchen counter right in front of her.

The cooks were busy cooking food no one asked, or wanted, compelled by Klaus to act like they were serving kings and queens. The kitchen was filled with desserts that Hayley was convinced would make her fatter than her pregnancy.

“Sleeping,” Rebekah’s voice came through the speaker.

“Where are you again?”

“We reached Amsterdam a couple of days ago.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is actually.”

“So, I guess you’re not gonna be there for my birthday, then…”

“My gift is already in the mail, it should be there in time.”

“I was hoping to see you.”

“Aw, do you miss me?” the Original vampire mocked over the phone.

“Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you, but let me tell you, the phone system is definitely one of the best creations in the past century.”

“Yeah, well I was actually hoping to spend my birthday with my friends, you know, but Katherine said she had no intentions of coming anywhere near Klaus ever again, so…”

“So what? I’m your backup friend?”

“I’d have loved to have you both here but since you guys all hate each other, I think it would have just ruined the day.”

“You’re probably right. Just spend the day with Elijah, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to do anything you want. Birthday or not…”

“Fine, don’t come, it’s not like we can actually have a party anyway, in our secret hiding place away from Marcel…”

“Why don’t you just come join me in Europe? Leave Nik alone, he doesn’t deserve your help…”

“Well, that’s true, but I can’t just leave Hayley here alone with him…”

“You’re right, that sounds like a particularly cruel thing to do.”

“Anyway, have fun in Amsterdam then.”

“And you have fun at that party of yours, show Marcel what you’re capable of.”

“And how do you suggest she does that, Rebekah?” Elijah asked as he entered the kitchen.

Mackenzie smiled as she saw him, and leaned into him as he went to place a kiss in her hair.

“Brother, finally, you deign to talk to your poor sister…”

The Original rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic, sister.”

“That bastard little thief stole our city and declared himself King, maybe you should show him he’s nothing but an ingrate little…”

“Alright, alright,” Mackenzie cut her off with a chuckle. “It’s a charity dinner, ‘bekah. We’re expecting champagne, good food, and dancing, nothing more.”

“You’re so boring. No wonder Kol hasn’t come around to visit you.”

“Ouch,” Mackenzie frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“Heard from him recently?”

“He’s somewhere in Brazil, I believe,” Elijah answered.

“What the bloody hell is he doing there?”

“Who knows what our brother’s got in his head.”

“You got that right… Well, Matt is waking up, I have to go.”

They said their goodbyes before hanging up, Mackenzie still eating from the bowl of strawberries that was almost empty now.

“Do you even want to go to this thing?” she asked.

“No. But Marcel must have something in mind, and I’d hate to go against his plans.”

She smirked. “That’s so nice of you,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I am very nice,” he whispered before placing a kiss on her lips. “In fact, I have many nice things I want to do to you right now.”

“Ew, please, stop.”

The couple turned towards the kitchen doorstep to find Hayley standing there with a look of disgust on her face. Mackenzie rolled her eyes playfully as she took a step back from the vampire.

“What can we do for you, Hayley?” Elijah asked the newest member of the Mikaelson family.

“Nothing, I just came to stuff my face with the biggest cake I could find…”

“We’ll leave you to it then,” he nodded before he gently took Mackenzie’s hand and led her out of the room under Hayley’s uncomfortable gaze.

***

So far, everything was going well. Elijah and his witch were behaving remarkably, the Original had already signed a check, and had been dancing with his companion ever since. Klaus was right. They looked unbearably in love. The silver satin dress she was wearing was remarkable as well, no doubt a gift from Elijah, and it complemented her set of diamond jewelry best. A swiss blue topaz gemstone rested above her cleavage, the necklace looked ancient, royal, almost, as if it had belonged to a generation of royalty and had somehow found its way to her. He figured many “lost” jewels had found their way in the Mikaelson collection over the years. He watched them carefully, tried to eavesdrop on them too, but they were smarter than to believe they’d get any privacy in a room full of vampires, and kept their conversation as polite and as normal as possible, as if they knew they had an audience. Eventually, Marcel had better things to do than to spy on the two lovers, and even managed to completely forget about them as Cami had finally joined the party.

“They spend their nights and days with Klaus - you’d think they’d be used to the presence of an Original by now,” Mackenzie complained about the pairs of eyes that hadn’t left them ever since they had entered the compound.

Marcel had gone above and beyond for this party. Dancers, acrobats, the finest chefs and the finest champagne… All the guests were having a great time and were happy to open their wallets to the charity of the night.

“I don’t think they’ll ever get used to us,” Elijah replied. “After all the stories they’ve heard about us, we were a myth to them until we arrived here.”

Mackenzie scoffed, wondering how long it would take for her irritation to turn into something more dangerous.

“If only they knew…” Elijah started.

“If only they knew what?”

“If only they knew they were worrying about the wrong person,” he grinned with pride.

She smirked back and nodded as she looked around at Marcel’s nightwalkers. “Indeed.”

That’s when she saw it, or rather him, a vampire she had come to learn was named Diego, entering the party wearing a shirt and jeans and an unhappy look on his face.

“Looks like something’s wrong,” she said as she watched him approach Marcel, obviously nervous about interrupting his time with Cami.

Diego whispered something into Marcel’s ear, and they could see on his face something was wrong indeed. Marcel started looking around and stopped as he found Elijah and Mackenzie surrounded by dancing couples. He frowned before he made their way to them.

“Something wrong, Marcellus?”

“Yes, actually, Elijah, something is wrong. Where’s Klaus?”

“I’m right here,” the hybrid said as he appeared behind him.

“Good, come with me.”

The three Mikaelsons looked at each other with an amused curiosity. Whatever was wrong, it wasn’t their problem, and if it bothered Marcel that much, it meant it was probably a good thing for them.

They followed him out of the compound, heard him order Diego to find as many nightwalkers as he could and join them at a place he called the Traps, which is where he was taking them.

“For a week now, my guys have been dying,” Marcel started his explanation. “There’s a werewolf in town who’s been killing my nightwalkers, and a witch or two have been helping it, using magic, undetected,” he informed them, barely concealing his anger.

“How is that our problem?” Elijah asked, not bothering to hide his lack of curiosity.

“Rumors are you’re at fault.”

“If we were killing your people we wouldn’t make a secret of it,” Mackenzie said in all honesty.

Marcel stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. Unbothered by his anger, almost bored, and definitely annoyed, she raised an eyebrow at him, defying him to attempt anything.

“Is that so?”

“That is so,” she confirmed, her eyes falling on Thierry standing behind him. “Want me to prove it?”

Marcel stared at her, put all of his anger in his eyes, tried to see something as she stared back, anything on her face, even just a little bit of fear, but he saw nothing. What the hell could she have gone through that had made her so tough? Or maybe it was arrogance? No, it wasn’t just that. She had something, she was someone, someone powerful, who wasn’t afraid of him, because he was no threat to her. Not only did she have Elijah’s protection, but she also didn’t need it, and that was scarier than Klaus himself, and as he finally found fear, it was unfortunately not hers, but his own.

“You were taking us somewhere?” Elijah eventually said after a minute of silence.

Marcel was trying to calm himself down, trying not to let the smirk that had appeared on the girl’s face get to him. He regained his composure, and his usual bright smile came and replaced the angry look on his face.

“But, as you are here, now I know you had nothing to do with the attacks on my men, and I thought we could go and see for ourselves who’s been causing so much trouble in my town,” he said as if he were offering them something.

“Sounds like a party,” Klaus smiled maliciously, encouraging Elijah and Mackenzie to relax.

Diego and a dozen nightwalkers had found them before they had even reached the Traps, and signs of a fight could be heard from down the street. Mackenzie could sense a werewolf and at least two witches inside, and vampires, dying one after the other.

Marcel gave Diego the order to attack, to kill whoever it was that was killing his own men in his own town. Among the screams of rage and fear were laughs - laughs Elijah and Mackenzie thought they recognized. She looked up at him and the look on his face confirmed her doubts. He heard it too, but she also felt it. A smile creeped onto her face.

“Call back your men before they all get killed,” she said, and he heard the amusement in her tone.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s only advice.”

“Advice you should seriously consider,” Elijah added.

But Marcel shook his head no and ordered more of his men to go in with him. They couldn’t even see what was happening inside. The bar had no window, only a door that was now broken. But they could hear everything that was happening and that was enough to give them an idea of the scene. Mackenzie chuckled, seriously debating whether or not to intervene.

“Perhaps we should do something,” Elijah suggested.

“What is going on?” Klaus asked, obviously irritated he was left in the dark.

Mackenzie smiled as she moved to go inside. She snapped the necks of every vampire there with a wave of a hand, and they all fell to the ground. All but Marcel. The bar was completely destroyed. Only a couple of chairs and tables were still standing, but most of them had been used as a stake and were now resting in the hearts of a dozen vampires. She walked past a temporarily dead Diego and took in the scene.

A man, the werewolf, was standing at the end of the room, with blood dripping from his mouth, holding a stake in his right hand, the broken chair he had ripped it off of in his other. He smiled at her as he saw her, the blood on his face made him look funny and she held back a laugh. A blonde witch was near him, waving at her, her free hand magically pinning a vampire to the ceiling. The last witch sat on the bar, her hair, her face, her outfit spotless, as if she hadn’t been part of the fight at all, but Mackenzie knew she had the highest body count.

“Mackenzie!” they all greeted in unison.

Her smile grew bigger and a laugh escaped her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came for your birthday, of course,” Olivia said as she jumped off the bar.

God, Mackenzie thought. She looked so much like Margo.

“Mom says hello.”

“Does her Majesty know you’re here?” Elijah asked as he stepped inside the bar with his brother.

“Of course,” Felicity answered as she let go of the vampire she was holding against the ceiling. He fell with a cry, and her boyfriend seized the opportunity to stake him.

Marcel would have stopped him and killed them all, or died trying, if Mackenzie didn’t have him pinned to the wall.

“Lying to Margo is a very bad idea,” Oliver said.

Olivia gave Mackenzie a hug and whispered in her ear: “Heidi says hi.”

Mackenzie’s heart skipped a bit and as she backed away to look at the Princess, the witch winked. Elijah frowned.

“We have so many gifts,” Felicity said as she hugged the elemental.

“You don’t turn twenty-years-old every day,” Oliver continued as he approached them.

“Who are you?” Klaus asked dryly, tired of being left out.

“Klaus, these are my friends from Germany,” she introduced them, “guys, this is Klaus.”

“Well, you definitely picked the more handsome brother,” Oliver winked at her and was rewarded by his girlfriend’s elbow in his ribs.

Elijah chuckled. “You’ve been here for a week?”

“Yeah, we got here early, we wanted to meet the um…” Oliver stopped himself. “You know…”

“How do you know about it?” Mackenzie questioned.

“The oracles told mom. I mean, it’s not something you see every day.”

Of course the oracles would know about Hayley and the baby. It made them wonder who else knew, and if they needed to be more cautious.

“It’s just werewolf curiosity,” Oliver shrugged.

“Are Heidi and Alexander going to be joining us?” Elijah asked.

“And are they going to kill more of my guys?” Marcel worried.

“Not their type,” Mackenzie informed him.

“To be fair we wouldn’t have killed anyone if they had left us alone,” Felicity said.

“But they went on about how werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter, and that really pisses a werewolf off, if you know what I mean,” Oliver growled.

“Werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter,” Marcel snarled.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“And you are?”

“I suggest you stick to giving your own men orders,” Olivia said with royal authority, “you are no match for us, as you can see.”

“We don’t take orders from vampires,” Oliver added salt to injury.

“I heard witches weren’t allowed to do magic in their own town,” Felicity continued, “another one of your rules, I suppose?”

“Shall we kill him?” Olivia wondered.

Klaus laughed. “Please, my friend here has been ruling over the Quarter for decades now, he’s just doing his job.”

“If his job consists of stopping witches from practicing their craft and hunting werewolves, then he is an unfit ruler and a change of leadership is needed,” Olivia said. “A good ruler promotes peace among all, and if you’re unable or too weak to achieve that, then you must be replaced.”

“I think there’s been enough killing for one night,” Elijah tried to defuse the situation. “Why don’t we take you to our place, so you can rest?”

“As you wish,” Olivia nodded. “We could use a home for the remainder of our stay.”

“I’ll let my brother show you to our place,” Klaus showed them out of the bar. “I will stay and help my friend clean up this place.” He gave them an obvious fake smile that neither of the three companions paid any mind to.

Mackenzie and Elijah looked at each other knowingly. Here went Klaus’ good mood.

**********

#the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah x oc #oc #reader #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #elijah x reader

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yeongwvnhi · 3 years

Text

》만나다《

Supernatural creatures AU

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @twancingyunhoe @vickylamore @glxwingstar @se0--0ho @seohospepe

Genre: angst!!, fluff, suggestive

Rating: 16+

General Warnings: Supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves etc), blood, violence, weapons, language, death, poisoning and just dark themes in general.

Chapter Specific Warnings: mentions of a funeral and a mortuary,talking about death, blood and talking about internal bleeding, needles, refusing to eat (mentioned once), talking about cause and time of death (mentioned once), mentions of a lack of anatomical activity, lots of crying lol

Pairing: ONEUS x fem reader 》 choose your ending

Synopsis: somehow you came back to life just about a day after dying, scaring the poor guys who work at the mortuary one late night as you flee, not knowing where to go before they found you.

Word count: 3k [thanks to @moongaera for beta-reading <3]

–> for reference: Y/N - Your Name,, N/N - Nickname

》Previous《》Next《》Masterlist《

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"Hyung, stop thinking about what could have been" Leedo interrupts the sorcerer's train of thoughts. "I know what you're thinking and it's not your fault. No one is mad at you for failing. You tried your best"

Seoho remains silent and Leedo sighs, the two of them making their way back to their residence.

"Oh you're ba- What happened?!" The owner of the house greets them first, almost losing it at the smell of blood and the way the two men's hands are covered in the now dark red/brown-ish substance.

"Seoho Hyung was asked to try and save someone, but turns out the poor girl got so heavily poisoned he was powerless" Leedo explains. "I'll explain to you in a bit, we're just gonna go and wash up"

The man just nods and watches the two of them walk away with pity swimming in his eyes. He knows how much it hurts his friend to not be able to help someone who so desperately needs it.

—

"Hwanseok.." your mother speaks and puts her hands on your father's shoulders. "We should… organize Y/N's funeral"

Yongjun hasn't come out of his room again after Haeryeong explained to him that you, his older sister he looked up to, has died.

Your father just nods, knowing he has to let go.

So about an hour later a van from the city's mortuary came and got your body. Your parents filled out all the papers regarding your burial and watched as the workers drove away.

—

Everything was pitch black and so… cold. But not the kind of cold that made you shiver, no, that type of cold that keeps you cool but at just the right temperature. It's hard to describe, yet you found comfort in it.

It's like you're dreaming of nothing but that nothing was still something.

And you felt heavy. So damn heavy that you can't move a muscle, it's like you're paralyzed.

The only thing that indicates you're still somehow awake were the distant voices. You couldn't differentiate them except for one deep voice.

After that, you kinda flaked out and now you were just confused. What was happening? and why couldn't you wake up or anything? Because it felt like an eternity.

—

"J-Junghwa please tell us you're pulling a sick prank on us right now" a close friend of yours says with a shaky voice.

"Yeah! No way- No way did that happen!" Hae-in also says, tears welling up in her eyes. "You were with her, what happened?!"

Junghwa rubs his face and looks at the three girls in front of him. "I'm telling the truth - I swear I am! I had to get the Necromancer but even his efforts were in vain. She died and her parents probably already had someone pick her up…"

Hae-in breaks out in tears, sobbing into her hands before Yura takes her into her arms, also silently crying.

"This feels so unreal" Hana says, trying hard to not break down as well.

"I know… I'll miss her so much" Junghwa says, eyes getting glassy. "I just… thought I'd let you guys know.."

Yura and Hana nod at him while Hae-in continues sobbing into Yura's shoulder.

Junghwa turns around and wipes his eyes, making his way back home.

—

"Seoho, how do you feel today?"

"Numb"

"You have to eat" He says, pushing the plate of toast towards him. "Woong is going to short-circuit when he realizes you are not eating the breakfast he prepared for you"

"But I don't feel like eating, Hyung" The sorcerer fights back, hands going up to hold onto his head. "I just failed a very influential and nice man! I couldn't save his daughter because I didn't see what poisoned her!"

The older one frowns and sits down next to his friend, taking his hands and looking him in the eye. "Listen Seoho, this is not your fault. Everyone makes mistakes and it does not help you one bit if you dwell on them. Instead, take them as a lesson for what you can do better next time. There is always a chance for you to prove yourself and this was not the last one, okay?"

The sorcerer feels tears building up in his eyes at his Hyung's words and nods quietly, afraid his voice will break if he speaks.

The older one gently guides Seoho's head to his shoulder and lets him cry it out. He understands the pain his younger friend feels almost too well.

The younger one of the two quickly composes himself and wipes away his tears. "Thank you H-Hyung"

Said man just smiles gently and pats his shoulder. "It's okay"

"Seo-ie Hyung~ did you eat your food?"

"Ah shit, here we go…"

—

You could feel your senses coming back to you one by one, hearing being the first.

"Cause of death?"

"Spirit-Iron and Vampire-Root poisoning and rapid internal bleeding"

"Time and date of death?"

"4:37pm, January 25th 2920"

"Name and age?"

"L/N Y/N, 23"

"Species?"

"W-"

The two men got interrupted by a loud banging noise.

"Ah shit, what did the intern do this time again"

"We should check it out, it's not like she's going anywhere"

"You're right, let's go"

That's when you opened your eyes, sterile white light shining down on you as you sat up.

To your surprise you were still in your clothes which were soaked in blood, but luckily not sticking to you anymore. You sat up and your feet met the ground.

You tiptoe around the examination table and towards the door, carefully peeking around before navigating your way through the building with the help of signs hung up.

"HOLY FUCK!!" you hear one of the two men scream. "THE CORPSE IS GONE! WHAT THE FUCK!!"

You were surprised you weren't panicking, but that was a problem for later as you sprinted outside and into the forest which was near the mortuary, not paying attention to your surroundings.

—

"What?" Your father's voice sounded through the living room and your Mother peered up. "What do you mean 'her corpse is gone'???"

Haeryeong could feel the feeling of dread creep up inside of her as she listened to what Hwanseok was saying.

"Oh god" he mumbles. "N-No I don't think you should try and find her body- I'll take care of it. Yeah goodbye"

"What the hell happened?" Haeryeong asks, eyes wide.

"The mortuary called and said Y/N's body is gone" Hwanseok explains, "this must be some sick joke"

"Do you think the Necromancer has something to do with it?"

"As much as I want to believe he's not at fault, he's the only one who's capable of such thing"

"What do you plan to do, Hwanseok?" Haeryeong asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"I'm going to pay him a little visit tomorrow"

—

You finally stopped running when you felt like you were far enough into the woods, sitting down against a tree.

That's when you started noticing the details.

No breathing, no racing heartbeat or pulse, no sense of fear or threat.

What the hell was going on? Weren't you just on your way home from that frat party with Junghwa? Your drink tasted weird and everything was spinning until it just went black.

Did someone put a weird potion into your drink?

You don't know for how long you've been sitting there, but it somehow felt like an eternity and it dawned on you that you were most probably dead.

The lack of a heartbeat and breathing was worrying and so fucking confusing, if your body would still be able to you would've totally panicked. Yet here you were, sitting totally calm against the bark of a tree, trying to grasp the situation.

It was just so illogical how your brain is still working but your heart doesn't beat. It defies all the knowledge of the body's anatomy and it drives you wild.

Slowly getting up again you try and see where you can go, but everything is just so dark and you can't see past the thick trees and small rays of light the moon provides, but you heard what felt like every little noise.

And then the crunching of leaves and twigs snapping got your attention, head whipping around to look towards where the noise was coming from.

You were on high alert as you kept your eyes on the spot.

"Are you lost?" A male voice asks you, but you remain silent and press yourself against the tree. "Hey don't be scared"

You hold your tongue at the snarky reply that was about to slip out when the man steps forward onto a spot illuminated by the moonlight.

"Who are you?" You ask, getting ready to defend yourself.

"I-" the guy stumbles over his words, probably not having expected this question, "I'm Seoho, the Necromancer"

That's when you notice the black outline of the Spellmark around his left eye, a stark contrast to his light skin.

You take a tentative step forward, more into the moonlight and you see the man's eyes widen. "No- No this can't be real"

Furrowing your brows and tilting your head you ask him, "what can't be real? Do I know you?"

He sinks to his knees in what looks like shock and you go closer, squatting down in front of him. "Hey what's wrong?"

Seoho looks almost mortified as his eyes meet yours. "I-I watched you die just a few hours ago! There w-was so much blood!"

A confused pout forms on your lips as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That explains a lot…" You mumble, "I woke up in this mortuary and ran into the forest without knowing where to go"

Your little explanation seems to have stirred something in the guy as a sob wrecks his body and you don't know what to do with yourself right then and there. "Hey- please don't cry!"

He laughs dryly and wipes his eyes. "I'm sorry this is just- overwhelming"

"But aren't you used to seeing dead people come back to life?" You ask.

To your surprise Seoho shakes his head. "That's what everyone thinks, you know?" He sniffs a little and regains his composure. "But I have only ever revived one person"

"Oh"

"Yeah so… it's kind of new to me" He says, "and I actually didn't revive you, Y/N"

"What? Hold up- what?" You're taken aback by his statement and look into his eyes, disregarding the fact that he knows your name. "What do you mean? Are you saying I came back to life by myself??"

He runs a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead briefly before answering you. "It looks like you did, yeah. I don't know how that's possible but-"

"Hyung, where did you run off to?!" Someone yells from a distance away and you see the man tense.

"You should go back to your friend, I'm sure he's worried" you suggest and stand up. "I think I'll go back home-"

"No!" Seoho frantically exclaims and you give him a surprised look. "I mean- don't go home! I should check up on you first!"

Playing with your fingers, you think about it for a second before the new voice calls out again.

"Seo-ie Hyung~" he chimes. "Where are you~"

The sorcerer gives you a pleading look as he also rises back onto his feet, his taller figure slightly towering over you.

"Fine" you give in and a smile breaks out on his face, a cute eye smile hiding his eyes in a crescent moon shape.

"Hyungie I found you!" The voice exclaims from behind Seoho and quick footsteps approach you two as the guy jumps onto the older one's back. "Ohhh who's that?"

The guy is shorter than Seoho and his hair a bright pink, his eyes flashing yellow for a second as he curiously blinks at you.

"Uh.. hi?" You awkwardly greet and wave your hand at him.

He hops down from Seoho's back and approaches you, circling around your figure. "How would you never want to die?"

The question catches you off guard and you furrow your brows while watching his movements. "I guess being burnt alive sounds pretty gruesome"

He starts laughing hysterically only to stop after a few seconds. "I see~" he says and stands in front of you, holding out his hand for you to shake while Seoho watches you two closely. "I'm Hwanwoong! What about you?"

You take his hand cautiously and shake it, his strong grip startling you slightly, not having expected someone of his size to be so strong. But then again; never judge a book by its cover. "I'm Y/N"

"Your hand is awfully cold, N/N-ie" He comments. "Are you sick?"

"Uhm-"

"Woongie, that's enough" Seoho finally steps in, "we should head back, yeah?"

Hwanwoong releases his grip on your hand and nods with a big smile. "Should I hurry back first and tell Grumpy Hyung about your guest?"

You hold back a laugh at what he called his older friend.

"Yeah, do that" Seoho nods and cracks a smile. "But don't call him Grumpy, you know he hates that"

"That's why he is grumpy hyung! But okay, I'm going~" Hwanwoong giggles like a child and starts running away.

"I'm sorry for this… weird encounter" The sorcerer turns to you with a sheepish smile. "You know how shapeshifters are"

"It's fine don't worry" you wave it off, "he's actually quite alright"

Seoho snorts at what you said and clears his throat. "Just wait until he has a fit… then he's not so alright anymore"

"Wh-"

"We should go now"

You bite back the question you were going to ask and opt for just nodding as you follow beside him, navigating through the woods.

—

"Are we there soon? It feels like we've been walking for days" You complain and Seoho chuckles.

"Don't worry we'll be there in 2 more minutes, Y/N"

Then you suddenly realized that he knew your name before you even told him or his friend.

"Wait.. you knew my name before"

"Did you forget what I said? About watching you die under my hands?"

"No.."

"Your father had someone get me"

You remain silent, since it made perfect sense now.

Seoho leads the way through a particular dark part of the forest before a giant building comes into view.

"That's it" He says and looks at you.

"Woah" You comment in astonishment and meet his gaze. "This is where you live?"

The sorcerer gives you a proud smile and nods. "Yup. I live here with five other friends. They're my family"

A soft smile also reaches your face.

"Ohh Seo-ie Hyung is back!" Hwanwoong's voice is loud as he practically yells that.

Both Seoho and you turn your gazes to the front door, Hwanwoong's bright pink hair standing out against the dark interior, a taller man in a red suit standing next to him.

Seoho takes a hold of your wrist and drags you towards them. "Hey Hyung" he greets the taller one. "Did Woongie tell you?"

"Yeah" the guy nods, his attention then on you. "May I ask for your name?"

He speaks very… formal, detached even, you notice. "I'm L/N Y/N"

The man gives you a tight smile. "You can call me Ravn for now. Nice to make your acquaintance"

"Ah, me too" you awkwardly bow a bit, making a chuckle erupt from the tall guy.

"Let's head inside" Seoho speaks up again and enters with you first up, practically shoving you inside before the other two follow close behind.

He shows you into a hospital-like room and makes you sit down on one of the four beds. "I'll be right back okay? I just need to get my assistant"

"Alright" you nod and watch him leave, closing the door behind him so you decide on just looking around the room.

It looks pretty sterile, IV-Bags next to every bed but without fluid, monitors of all kinds and also a sink next to the door. It looks like they took lots of instruments from a hospital room.

You don't remember where you heard it, but you're pretty sure someone once told you that the Necromancer's healing abilities were pretty weak, so he had to rely a lot on potions and normal things like they are in here.

Just when you finished your thought, the door opened again.

"No way" a green haired man says and looks at you, calmly sitting on the bed while Seoho closes the door behind them. "You- How?"

"I told you, I don't know. That's why I got you to help me check her up"

The two guys go and grab some stuff from around the room and put it on the table next to the bed you're sitting on.

"Hey uhm" you speak up, "I heard you're not that good with healing stuff"

A pang of hurt flashes across his face for a second after your comment.

"Ah! I'm not making fun of you! It's just that-" with frantic hand motions you try to explain yourself, "I'm one of the best healers in this land so maybe I could help you out..?"

The hurt in his face immediately gets replaced with relief and he exchanges glances with his companion. "I mean, I don't see why not" Seoho bashfully smiles at you. "It would mean a lot to me"

You smile back at him. "Okay we can talk about that later, right? What kind of stuff do you need to check?"

"Well first of all we need to check your blood" the green haired guy starts explaining, "then we need to check your vitals and brain activity and lastly abilities"

"No physical tests or anything?" You ask and raise a brow.

"What Leedo forgot to say" Seoho now answers, "is that yes, we will do physical tests, but they come after the stuff he listed"

"Ohh I see" you nod in understanding.

Seoho goes to grab a syringe and you watch him closely. "I hope you're not afraid of needles"

"Actually I am" you reply, bending back a bit to get away from the instrument. "I've always hated them"

A frown pulls on the sorcerer's lips. "I'm sorry. We do need a bit of your blood though…"

You fight yourself for a few seconds before giving in. "Please make it quick" and the man nods, patting your knee briefly.

#yuki writes #kwritersworldnet #oneuswewriters #oneus #oneus angst #tw funeral #tw mortuary #tw blood #tw needles #tw ed mention #내꺼 하자 #yeongwvnhi.txt

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thecleverdame · 4 years

Text

The Oath - 15

Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Story Master List

Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.

Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.

Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.

Beta: ilikaicalie

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No matter how long you stare at the bite on your neck, it’s still hard to believe it’s real.

Sam claimed you.

Sam Winchester claimed you.

Adding to your humiliation is the fact that you asked for this. Begged him to bite you, begged him to do a lot of other unspeakable things that make you blush in the light of day. That’s not remotely fair. To be an Omega in the bed of an Alpha, your Alpha, during his rut...you would have asked for anything in that state.

Your body is a map of his rut. Even two days afterward you’re covered in bite marks and bruises. Handprints on your arms and around your wrists where he held you down as you pleaded for it harder.

God help you. You’re all in now. Any thought of ever going back to your own family has been eradicated. The last vestiges of hope have drained away. Even if by some miracle you were able to escape, or your father won the war, you could never stay away from him. You’re bound for the rest of your life and you’ll die without him.

You are his and you’ve decided for your own sanity that you’ll play the part until you truly forget who you were. It’s time to give in. Clinging to false hope can only serve to bring devastation when the fairy tale ending never comes. There’s no way out. So you have to be all in.

John is in the camp. His men have joined up with Sam and Deans to form a massive army. You can hear the commotion from outside the tent, feeling sick at the thought of having to meet him.

You’ve heard the tales of John Winchester for years. It’s easy to think that men with his reputation are often blown out of proportion, but you fear all those stories were accurate. The tales of cruelty were indeed rooted in truth.

That evening several women come to assist you in getting ready. One braids small strips of your hair, pinning it atop your head while the other laces up an intricate dress the likes of which you haven’t seen since you were a proper princess. Sam watches stoically from the corner as they flit around, nervous and desperate to have you up to his standards.

“Make sure to leave some of her hair down. Cover the bite,” he instructs. The young woman combing your hair jumps out of her skin when he speaks.

“Of course, my lord.” She smooths the hair into waves around your shoulders, arranging it just so. You won’t be able to move without fear of undoing her handiwork.

He hasn’t said much in the last few days, more quiet than usual. Studying you with unnerving intensity. It’s like he’s waiting for changes. As if he thinks his bite will trigger some dramatic physical metamorphosis that will happen right before his eyes.

With a final cinch, your dress is fitted and the woman at your back takes a step away, bowing her head.

“Would you like to inspect her up close before we take our leave?”

“Yes.” Sam stands up, both women scurrying backwards to put as much room between them and him as possible. He makes a circle around you, nodding slowly. “You’ve done well. You may both go.”

They’re out of the tent in a dash, allowing you more freedom to speak to him. He doesn’t mind your familiarity, but you’re sure to question when no one else is around.

“Why am I wearing this dress?” you ask. You’ve got a good idea but you want to hear him say it.

“We’re having dinner with my family. You need to look your best.” He places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you back to the same mirror you stare into every morning. This mirror has seen more tears and whispered prayer than any other in existence. “You’re beautiful, but I needed you to look polished tonight. Representative of the prize that you are.”

He stands behind you as you both stare at your reflection as he places a hand on top of each shoulder. This is a woman you never thought you’d see again. Not only clean but composed. Your hair is wonderfully intricate, the top half of your hair braided and looped around the crown of your head. The dress is immaculate and your cheeks a rosy pink.

Perhaps his instincts are correct. Over the months since your capture, you’ve looked thinner and paler as time dragged on. But in the two days since his claim you’ve flourished. Brought back to life the Omega inside that’s nourished in a way you’ve never been before. Despite the circumstances, belonging to an Alpha is what you’ve been craving for years, there’s no denying it.

“I’m scared,” you whisper, watching his reflection. He meets your eyes, unwavering as his fingers curl into the meat of your shoulders.

“Don’t be scared, little bird. My father is intimidating to most people. But do you know the one thing John Winchester is scared of?”

You don’t have to ponder the question long before the answer becomes clear.

“You?”

“Me.” He breaks into a joyless smile. One hand drops down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “And he should be.”

Sam escorts you across the camp with a half dozen men trailing behind him. He doesn’t normally have a small army of personal bodyguards. It’s unclear if this is because of you or to protect him. But it is clear that the amassing of army’s has changed things. There’s an intensity in the camp that you can feel, it’s hanging heavy in the air as you pass through.

The sight of an Omega draws attention. And Sam Winchester’s makes for a full out spectacle. You can feel the shame and fear make your face red as you scamper beside him. Even though it’s unlikely, there’s always the possibility that someone could recognize you. The wrong person could point and shout out your true identity.

There’s a huge tent at the center of the camp at least twice the size of Sam’s. It appears to have been set up specially for dinner. There’s not much inside save for a long dining table lined with chairs.

You take a seat across from Greta as Sam and Dean launch into their own conversation. She’s not as perky as the last time you saw her. There’s a limpness, a dullness in her eyes that tells you the fight is almost gone.

“Hello.” You offer a hesitant smile.

“Hello.” She stares blankly at you.

“Greta,” you whisper, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Are you alright?”

“I am alive,” she answers, tears pooling in her eyes.

The two Alphas move away from the table for a stronger drink from the sideboard. You take the opportunity to pour Greta a glass of wine, then yourself. She takes it from you with a weak thank you.

“Has something happened?” you whisper, checking to make sure that the men are otherwise occupied. “Something more than…”

Imprisonment and assault.

“No,” she takes a sip from her glass. “It’s been a lot of the same. I’ve realized that you were right from the beginning. Being so obstinate has only made the situation worse.”

You want to ask exactly what she means by “worse” but you’re not sure you can handle the answer. She’s no longer shackled. It appears she finally stopped running away or maybe it’s just for show. Turning up to dinner with John Winchester with a chain around her ankle would make Dean appear weak.

“Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk later.” Trying to remain upbeat, you pat the top of her hand. “Drink some more, it will help.”

Without any sort of introduction, John enters the tent with a woman on his arm. A few men walk in behind him, fanning out to stand guard by the doorway.

You stand up without even thinking about it. Greta jumps to her feet as well. Looking to Sam you try to deduce if you should go to him or stay put where you are. After all, in Gilead, you’re a strange combination of high social status and half a person.

You’re relieved when Sam gestures for you to come to him. He and Dean both greet their father while you and Greta watch from a step behind. John looks tired, almost unassuming, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that gives away his lethality.

He and Dean embrace with a hug that looks genuine. And then Dean turns to the blonde woman beside John for a kiss and you understand, this is their mother. Sam has mentioned her offhandedly but you assumed she was dead. She’s standing just behind John with an unnerving smile.

When it’s Sam’s turn he and John share a more uncomfortable version of Dean’s greeting. Neither of them wants to touch the other. When it’s his mother’s turn he embraces her with the same vigor as his brother. While Sam is devoid of telltale warmth that a mother and son share, he still attempts to show her some affection.

“You both look well.” John looks from Dean to Sam, seemingly pleased with what he sees. “Very good.”

John looks from Greta to you as if just noticing you for the first time, appraising you from head to toe before chuckling with a nod to both his sons.

“You both have one. That’s good. Having an Omega waiting keeps you clear-headed on the battlefield.”

“Yes it does,” Dean agrees with a genuine grin. In stark contrast to Sam’s disdain, Dean seems to bask in their father’s approval.

“Please, let’s eat. I know we’re all hungry and we’ve got plenty of time to catch up.”

Everyone takes their place. You’re nervous you might say or do the wrong thing, so you fold your hands into your lap and try to draw as little attention as possible. The soldiers stationed along the wall stare dead ahead as if transfixed, never looking at anyone or anything. Ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Sam refills your wine glass without so much as a look and settles it for the evening.

Everyone eats and drinks as the evening wears on. You know it’s coming but you’re taken off guard when John hones in on you.

“Why don’t you tell us where you found your Omega, Sam? She’s a rare find.”

“She’s very beautiful.” Mary stares at you blankly, devoid of any real emotion.

“Yes, she is.” Sam turns to you, reaching to brush the hair away from your neck, exposing his bite. You stare at him in horror while the table goes silent. It takes a moment for everyone to understand what they’re seeing. All conversations stop, even the sounds of plates and cutlery are silenced at this revelation.

John Winchester clears his throat and your eyes flutter shut, scarcely able to handle what unknown comes next.

“She’s claimed?”

“She is.”

“By you?”

“Yes.”

John takes a breath, both fists resting on the table curl tight until his knuckles go white.

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Do you know what this means? What I have to do?” His face is red, and you wonder if he’ll order you both dead here and now.

“Tell me, what do you have to do?” Sam’s antagonizing him, a grin pulling at his mouth.

“Sam,” his mother breathes, looking in horror from her husband to her son. “What have you done?”

“Were you looking for a fight? Is that what you want, for me to take her from you?”

“You’re not taking her,” Sam spits back.

“Yes, I am.”John points at you and it’s all you can do not to burst into tears. “I can’t let you keep her. What example would that set? The laws are centuries old. This is what we’re fighting to uphold.”

“Consider this an exception.” Sam shrugs, picking up his wine glass.

“There are no exceptions.”

“Then why don’t you come over here and try to take her then?” Sam offers, eyes narrowing with the challenge. “Drag me off to the chopping block while you’re at it.”

“Why do you always have to undermine me!” John yells, standing up.

“She’s my mate.” Sam stands too, slow and deliberate. “If you try to take her, I’ll kill you. If you send men to take her, I’ll kill them and then I’ll come for you.”

“Sam,” John pauses pounding the table with a single fist. “How am I expected to enforce the laws if my own son doesn’t follow them?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“You are to be an example to the men!”

“I am no man. You said that yourself. Don’t think for a moment that I need your permission for anything. I do all that you ask of me. I was loyal until the day I died and in return, I take what I want. When and how I want it.”

They stare at each other, each waiting for the other to back down.

“You let him do this?” John turns to Dean who holds both hands up.

“I know it’s been a while since we’ve all been together, but I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that no one lets Sam do anything. This isn’t on me.”

“No, it’s not. It was my decision.” Sam adds. “She’s been with me since Eden and now she’ll stay with me.”

Sam relaxes, his display of dominance is over because he was the winner before this even started.

“Soul or not, you’ve always been hard-headed.” John sinks back into his seat, letting out a sigh. “Tell me Omega, what’s your name.”

You sit up in horror, looking from John to Sam.

“I, um-”. You clasp your shaking hands together in your lap. “Sparrow.”

“What an unusual name,” Mary chimes in.

“Yes,” you agree looking down at your lap.

“Tell us Sparrow,” John continues. “How many Alpha were you with before my son?”

“None sir,” you answer immediately, wishing you could crawl under the table.

“That’s something I suppose.” John composes himself sitting back and patting his wife’s hand. “If there was ever a reason for a break in tradition, Sam is it. But I don’t want anyone else thinking they can get away with-”

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” Dean interjects. “If you like we’ll make sure to make an example of the next man who abuses his privileges with an Omega.”

John seems to accept this and it’s as if the confrontation never happened. Suddenly they’re talking about heading south and the warmer weather.

That’s it. It was that simple. Sam was right, John is afraid of him.

The night drags on. Dean and John tell stories of their time apart. While Sam doesn’t engage, he seems amused with a few of Dean’s embellished tales. It’s just as dinner is coming to an end that you sense the mood shifting.

John is now focused on Greta, watching her while he listens to his son ramble on about sword makers and strategies. When Dean finishes his story John tips back the last of his wine.

“I think it’s time to take care of our most important business, don’t you?”

Both Sam and Dean agree, making it clear they all know what’s coming next. John raises a hand and there’s a commotion outside the tent. Two soldiers bring a man inside, he’s bloodied and beaten, limp, feet dragging in the dirt.

You look to Sam and then back to the man, sure that you don’t want to witness whatever is about to happen.

“Oh my God,” Greta starts to stand and Dean grabs her arm to keep her in her seat. “Father!”

Your heart drops into your stomach. Her father, the renowned General Kaiser. He’s one of your father’s most trusted confidants. You feel terror for her as she begins to cry, looking wildly around the table.

“Please,” she begs, grabbing at Dean’s sleeve. “Don’t hurt him please, I’ll do anything.”

“Be quiet,” he says with a gentleness that you’ve never seen before. “Stay in your seat.”

This man knows you, in fact, he’s known you since you were a little girl. Kaiser lifts his head, smiling when he sees his daughter.

“It’s going to be alright Greta. Do what you’re told.”

Kaiser then looks from John to Dean to Sam and then his gaze falls on you. It’s a split second before recognition sets in. His eyes dart from Sam to the exposed claiming bite on your neck. He understands almost immediately and forces himself to look away.

“We need information.” John begins, getting to his feet. “This man has the power to secure the war. Everything we need, the general knows. Regrettably, our honored guest has been less than forthcoming. So tonight we’re going to try a new tactic. Sam, take care of Greta for us, will you?”

“No,” you whisper under your breath as Sam makes his way around the table.

Sam takes her by the arm, pulling her out of her seat. Dean simply watches, concealing any and all reactions.

“Take your hands off her!” Kaiser shouts. It breaks your heart, he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. There’s no way out for him and yet he tries to protect his daughter.

“He will take his hands off her when you give us something we can work with. Where are Benedict's men being moved to? Tell us the rally point. If you don’t, my son will slit your daughter’s throat.”

“I don’t know,” Kaiser answers, a tear sliding down her cheek as he stares at Greta.

“How about the location of his advisors? I was told they were being kept together for protection. Or his children? Anything we can use.”

You stop breathing, chest tightening, heart thumping hard and fast. This is it. The end. All he has to do to save Greta is point a finger at you. Sam tenses as if he can feel your panic and gives you a questioning glance. Kaiser looks at you for a fleeting second, then looks up as if sending up a final prayer.

“I am loyal to my king until I die.” Kaiser holds his bloodied head high, the muscles of his neck shaking.

“You are an idiot.” John shakes his head. Instead of looking to Sam, John turns to Dean. “Do you want to keep her longer?”

Yes, please yes. Please.

“Sure,” Dean shrugs.

“Very well.” John moves with a speed you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. In one move he unsheaths his sword and drives it deep into Kaiser's gut. Twisting as he presses forward.

Greta screams, reaching out for her father. Sam lets her go and she crumples to the floor watching in agony as her father dies a slow, violent death right before her eyes.

You’re out of the chair without a second thought, scurrying around the table and dropping to your knees to hold Greta in your arms. She howls as you rock her back and forth, listening to the last sounds of her father gasping for breath.

And when it’s over you sit there, clinging to her and squeezing your own eyes shut.

“It needed to be done,” John’s voice explains. “The longer we let him live, the weaker we looked. People need to know we don’t hold prisoners. They’re of use or they’re dead.”

“Understood,” Dean agrees.

It seems like a lifetime before Sam pries you away from Greta. You’re in a stupor as he lifts you up and carries you away from the gruesome scene.

Later That Evening

“May I ask you a question?” you ask.

Neither of you has said much since you returned from dinner. You’ve been stuck in your own head replaying the events over and over. He looks up from his book. Much to your surprise, he gets up from his chair and walks over to the end of the bed.

“What is it?”

“Your mother...I didn’t know she was alive. Why haven’t you or Dean mentioned her?”

“That’s a question with a long answer.” He holds your gaze. “She was gone for a long time. My father will tell you he thought she was possessed. But the truth is that she was disloyal, undermining his orders. One morning she disappeared and we didn’t see her for a year. When she did come back she wasn’t our mother anymore. He did something to her, broke her. And since then she’s just a stranger with our mother’s face.”

“That's awful.”

“It is what it is.” Sam shrugs, shaking away the idea of his mother.

You watch him thoughtfully, this man who’s now your Alpha.

“You told your father you would kill him if he came for me. Did you mean that?”

“Yes.”

“And if your father had told you to, would you have killed Greta?”

“Yes.”

If you could just tell him the truth, what a burden would be lifted. You long to whisper your fears to someone. That you’re terrified that one day you’ll watch as your own father is slaughtered in front of you. That Sam will discover your true identity and turn on you himself. The very notion of your own Alpha turning his back on you makes you want to crawl under the covers and cower in fear.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, looking down at your trembling hands.

“This existence, my life...your life, it’s brutal. I don’t know how to come to terms with what happened. A man was killed in front of me. I can’t reconcile that...I don’t want it to be real.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that. Before this war is over there is no end to the violent things you’ll see.”

Normally he would dismiss you as weak or overly concerned for the welfare of others. Perhaps for the first time he seems to care that you’re upset.

Tonight has proven one thing above all others. He takes his claim seriously, having you and keeping you for himself. He wants to be your Alpha, gets satisfaction from it. That’s easier to play into while lulling yourself into a false sense of security.

“Will you keep me safe?”

“Yes,” he replies.

His hand cups the cut of your jaw, a thumb slowly stroking across your cheek. He’s looking at you but lost somewhere in thought. His touch has never been soft, nothing close to tenderness. But as he cradles your face you see a glimpse of the man left inside him.

You wrap your hand around his wrist, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. To let go of your old identity and forge a new one.

His concentration snaps as his free hand moves to your knee and then up a thigh. He doesn’t stop until his fingers push into your folds to find slick at your core.

Giving a little moan, you spread yourself open for him as he withdraws his hand.

“Are you always wet?”

Biting your lip you glance away sheepishly.

“It’s your scent. When you’re near me I...I can’t help it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.” He tugs at your slip. “Take this off.”

You yank it over your head, lay back as he crawls over you, shedding his shirt, then his trousers.

He buries his head between your thighs, shoving his tongue into your cunt as you writhe up against his chin. Both hands press down on your hips to hold you in place as his tongue drags upward from your wet hole to the swollen bud of your clit. Without warning he sucks at the most sensitive part of you.

Two hands curl into his hair, yanking at his scalp but at the same time pushing his face into your pussy. It's a cacophony of sensations, a pleasure bordering on too much. He grunts and groans, giving you a brief reprieve, delving back down to shove inside you before returning to send you star-bound with the caress of his mouth.

In moments such as this you forget where you are. What you just witnessed or the trials to come. Here in this bed, in this moment all is forgotten except Sam.

Heavy and pitching, you’re at the edge of the abyss, ready to plunge headfirst over the edge.

“Sam,” you gulp.

You’ve never dared call him by his name before but it falls from your lips without a second thought.

He moves fast, mouth leaving your cunt as he lunges upward to take your mouth. The spiced taste of yourself on his tongue is proof of his efforts as you kiss him back. Hands curl into the flesh of his back leaving tiny crescent moons across the skin.

A hand wedges between your bellies, grabbing his cock to line himself up. The first thrust is intense. You easily take him in to the root, wet and needy, opening up as you have a hundred times before. The moment he finds his depth, you cum with a yelp.

For a moment there’s nothing, then a burst of white before your eyes and the feeling of pulsing around him.

He fucks you through it, slow and steady until you’re nothing but a twitching body underneath him. It’s a dizzy gratification and you swim in it until you feel his knot swell. He ruts deep and then fills you with seed. You lie under him for as long as it takes his knot to recede, listening to the sound of his breath, feeling the thump of his heart against your chest.

It must be the universe’s cruel joke that you’re so well matched. This sort of pleasure is meant for good people, people who fall in love and have a sweeping romance.

And yet you find yourself bathing in the scent and heat of him, despite the man you know him to be. He may be dark and cruel and heartless, but he is yours. You know that now more than ever.

#soulless!sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester au

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