#i'm so so so weak to the idea of a couple as two people supporting each other through good and bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minisugakoobies · 5 months

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Hideaway | KHJ

Pairing: Hongjoong x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB) Genre: smut, crack, strangers to lovers, Frat Bro!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: smoking/edibles, stoner!hongjoong agenda, woosan side pairing, oral fixation (as in the author reader is obsessed with joong's mouth), to be fair it's a very filthy mouth, dry humping, biting/marking, tit pinching/sucking, fingering, hongjoong goes downtown & eats it like a vulture, aka cunnilingus, wet & messy, cum eating, a tiny bit of exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Word Count: 7.1K Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: When your friend keeps dragging you to frat parties, all you want to do is find a place to hide and get high. You definitely don't expect to meet a man with a devilish smile and an even more wicked tongue.

A/N: Hello I'm back with more Ateez! This one's a very self-indulgent fic about getting high with Hongjoong. It all stemmed from discussions with @kiestrokes about what a gorgeous mouth Joong has 🥴 Lokie, I hope you enjoy what you've wrought 😜💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Like this fic? Want me to keep writing Ateez? Please let me know!

ATZ Masterlist 🍃 Main Masterlist

One hour. That’s all San asked of you. Go to a party with him for one hour, because his crush was going to be there, and he needed your support. As his best friend and roommate, how could you say no?

Two hours into the party, you’re wishing you’d put your foot down. You’re worn out from art studio this week, where it had been your turn to face group critique. Honestly, after that experience, you really don’t want to be around other people for a while. You long to crash on your couch with a stash of junk food and video games and not move until class on Monday. Instead, you’re holding up a wall in a frat house, watching your best friend dance with Wooyoung, the Alpha Tau Zeta brother who’d caught San’s eye.

You’re happy for San, truly, but a bit surprised at how quickly things escalated from “OMG he’s so cute, do you think he’d dance with me?” to Wooyoung climbing your friend like the mountain he is. San looks completely lovestruck as the other man wraps his arms around his shoulders, and you sigh, resigned to your fate.

San had promised that you’d leave together, saying he’d treat you to your favorite waffles at your favorite diner after the party, and you’d agreed, but now that means you’re stuck here for god knows how much longer. You could find him and tell him you changed your mind and you’re gonna go. He’d say okay, but he’d say it with that pout of his, and as long as you’ve known San, that pout has owned your weak ass, so there’s really no point. You’ll just wait.

However, hovering like a third wheel isn’t your idea of a good time, so you decide to find somewhere else to hang out. The room is packed with couples grinding, and you weave around them carefully, trying to avoid the beer sloshing about as a girl beside you really puts her back into it. The kitchen is just as cramped as the living room, a beer pong match taking up most of the space, so you keep wandering, until you come to the foyer, where there’s a staircase to the second floor. Wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the loud music, you start to climb.

It’s much less crowded upstairs. There are a few people scattered along the hallway, talking in small groups, or heading into the bedrooms, all of which have closed doors. You’re a little afraid of what you might walk in on if you open one, so you keep moving, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and hide.

Instead, as you round a corner, you come to a dead end. But to your left, there’s a window that’s cracked ajar, night breeze just teasing you with enticing coolness after the rank humidity of the dance floor. You press your palms to the glass, peeking out. It looks like the window opens onto the roof of the back porch.

Gently, you lift the sash until you can stick your head out. The roof is flat, not sloped. It’s fairly dark, with only the moon above and the string lights crisscrossing the yard providing a pale glow. And, most blessedly, it is devoid of other people.

As quickly as you can, you shimmy out the window.

The backyard is dotted with kiddie pools still full of jello from the last wrestling tournament. In between the pools, the ground is a squishy mess of colorful gelatin and disgusting mud, which means that there are very few partygoers outside right now, besides a handful that you can hear beneath you, hanging out on the porch. But they can’t see you, so you can live with that.

Settling with your back pressed to the brick wall, you take a deep breath, relaxing. Even though it’s so late in the fall that the weather is already flirting with winter, it’s a nice night to be outside. The air is crisp, but you’re plenty warm in your sweater and jeans, toes tapping idly inside your boots. The moon plays hide and seek behind some passing clouds while you observe contentedly.

“No one’s supposed to be out here.”

“Fuck!” You jump, so surprised to hear someone address you. The voice came from the shadows of the opposite corner of the roof, where another window mirrors the one you came through.

There’s a short burst of laughter, and then someone leans into the light.

Reddish-orange hair hangs over a dark brow, above eyes scrunched nearly closed in glee, further expressed by a full bottom lip twisting upwards in a smirk. As you will your racing heart to ease off, a guy you’ve never seen before carefully steps across the roof. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt over a long-sleeved striped shirt and jeans. His shirt doesn’t have any letters on it, but he must be a brother here if he’s trying to tell you what to do.

He’s almost unfairly gorgeous, this stranger who scared you nearly to death, and he’s laughing at you.

You attempt to recover your cool, leaning back against the wall again. “I didn’t see a sign.”

“It’s kind of unsaid.”

“Well, it kind of needs to be said,” you shoot back a little snappily, annoyed that your peace has been shattered. “You’re out here, too, you know.”

“I live here.”

“So that’s fine, then?”

He grins, a wicked thing that has your neck flaming with sudden heat, and slides further out of the darkness, until he’s about an arms-length away. “Ok if I sit here?”

“I mean, if unspoken rules don’t stop you, what’s me literally saying ‘no’ gonna do?”

Another quick ratatat of laughter. “You’re funny.” He drops down beside you, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.

You don’t say anything to his comment, waiting for him to say something else. Like explain why he’s out here or who he is to tell you where you can’t be or anything. A minute passes, then another. You hear the people on the porch heading back into the party and then there’s only the dull thumping of the music inside and the sound of the crickets chirping in the yard.

You wonder if you should say something to the stranger, maybe explain why you’re out here, but he seems pretty content to sit quietly, and if he’s happy to remain silent, so are you. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to actually kick you off the roof, so you release the tension in your shoulders, inhaling deeply again, and match his pose, staring up at the sky.

The wind stirs, brushing your cheek with gentle fingers.

“Not into parties?”

You glance over when he finally speaks. His profile is striking - sharp jawline, straight nose with just the slightest upturn. It makes you wish you had your sketchbook with you. He’d make a lovely model right now, pretty face lit by the soft luminescence of the moon.

“It’s not that. Just been a long week. I was planning on a quiet night in. But my roommate had other ideas.”

“And now you’re stuck here, waiting for them?”

You nod. The stranger hums.

“Yeah, I can sympathize. Kinda hard to have a quiet night here, like… all the time.”

It’s your turn to hum. “But… did you not know what you were signing up for when you joined a fraternity?”

He laughs again. You’re starting to really like the sound. “Do I need to remind you that you’re not supposed to be out here?”

“Do I need to remind you?”

“Fair.”

Another comfortable silence. This is your type of stranger - one who respects the sanctity of quiet moments. After a few more minutes, you decide, fuck it, and reach into your crossbody, pulling out your vape pen. You’re not going to get high high while you wait for San, not the way you had planned to do if you were at home melding with the couch, but you can at least take the edge off.

But before you do, you hold the pen out to the stranger. “Want a hit?”

He raises an eyebrow, nods.

Your gaze lingers maybe a few seconds too long as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece, drawing the smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a few seconds. He hands the pen back with an exhaled thanks.

You take your turn, tipping your face up to momentarily blot out the stars with smoke. The light cherry flavor hangs on your tongue while you hand the pen back over without asking. The stranger takes another lungful.

“So… do you have a name?”

“Of course I do,” you reply. Dumb questions get dumb answers. “Do you?”

His lips curl into a bright smile. “I do.”

Another pass. You check your phone, just to make sure San hasn’t sent you any messages. He hasn’t. He’s probably affixed to Wooyoung’s gorgeous face by now.

“Hongjoong,” the stranger says after another inhale. “I’m Hongjoong.”

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong. Thanks for not throwing me off your roof.”

“Thanks for the tokes.”

He grins at you again, full teeth, and you can’t help but beam back. He really is rather cute -

“Hongjoong! Are you out here again?”

One of the brothers you’d seen playing pong earlier has his head out the window behind Hongjoong.

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up, ‘Hwa?”

The other man looks past Hongjoong, squinting into the darkness. “Is someone out there with you? You know no one’s suppo-”

“Seonghwa. What do you need?” Hongjoong’s tone shifts, becoming a little authoritative.

“You better get in here. Mingi’s trying to get everyone to go streaking again.”

“So?” Your pen is still in Hongjoong’s hand, heading to his lips as he takes another puff. “He’s always trying to do that. No one ever agrees.”

“So, I guess he thought the best way to convince everyone was by going first. He’s currently doing naked laps around the beer pong table.” Seonghwa frowns. “It’s really throwing off my game.”

Hongjoong sighs, an exceptionally weary sound. Rising to his feet, he brushes off his jeans. “I better go put a stop to that.” He glances down at you. “If anyone tries to kick you off here, just tell them I said you have my permission.”

“And I need that?”

The smirk returns. And then he has the audacity to wink. Before you can catch your breath, he’s climbing back through the window.

Silence envelops you again. You lift your pen to your lips one more time before tucking it away.

The minutes tick by.

When the clouds drifting across the stars start to look like tantalizing wisps of cotton candy, seemingly close enough that you could reach out and grab some, your stomach lets out a growl. Maybe you should go grab San away and tell him it’s time to bounce. You’ve done your time. There’s a perfectly golden waffle just waiting for you to drown with syrup at the diner.

Besides, you can’t wait out here all night for cute boys who may or may not return. As much as you might want to.

“Again?”

Two weeks have come and gone since San dragged you to ATZ. And now here he is, knocking on your bedroom door and giving you his best puppy dog eyes as he informs you that Wooyoung’s invited him to another party tonight.

“Do you really need me to go? I thought you guys were hitting it off.” The two of them had been exchanging texts like crazy, and had gone on a date last weekend. You hadn’t seen your best friend this giddy in ages.

“We are. He’s amazing,” San sighs, a faraway look in his eyes. “But I need you there so I have a reason to leave. I don’t want him to think I’m easy.”

You try, you really, really do, but you can’t stop the laughter that bursts out of you. San has proudly called himself a slut on more than one occasion. In the three years you’ve been besties, you’ve never known him to deny himself some dick.

“Stop laughing!” San puffs his bottom lip. “I’m serious. I really like him, and I want to take it slow.”

“That’s so sweet,” you coo, pinching his cheeks. He ducks his head with a tiny “aish,” but you know he’s not mad. “But why can’t you just make up a reason not to stay?”

The pout returns. “Because he’s hot and I’m weak. Please, help me out?”

Sighing, you cross your arms. He’s not the only one without a backbone. “Maybe. What’s in it for me?”

“I knew you’d ask that.” With a grin, he holds out a small ziploc baggie. “Here.” He tosses it your way.

It’s a brownie. You grin. “Oh honey, you baked!”

San returns your smile. “The batch came out a bit stronger than usual, so that’s why it’s just a little square. Half of that is probably enough for you. But if you go with me tonight, I’ll let you have the rest of the pan.”

And just like that, you find yourself at another party packed full of people. This time, the beer pong table has been replaced with a giant ice luge, with coeds lining up to take their turns slurping jungle juice off the frozen display. You give the luge a wide berth, not wanting the sticky liquid to splash the boots you’re wearing. All the seats in the living room are occupied, and dancers are taking up all the open space left, so again you head upstairs.

Unlike the last time you were here, the roof does not provide you an escape, thanks to the chilly autumn rain that simply won’t let up tonight. It’s like the universe doesn’t want you pulling a Houdini this time. At least you have your brownie with you. You just need to find somewhere to enjoy it while you wait for San.

The doors to all the rooms on the second floor are closed, so you keep moving, climbing up to the third floor. No one’s in the hallway up here, and there’s a room with the door wide open, so you peek your head in.

Rows of books line shelves built into the two of the walls, The third has a fireplace, unlit, with photos of the fraternity brothers hanging above the mantle. There’s a rather nice overstuffed couch and a pair of high-backed chairs facing the fireplace.

“These frat boys live like kings,” you murmur to yourself, creeping forward to examine the portraits. Your eye is immediately drawn to one in particular, a redheaded man with a bright smile, whose photo bears the title “President.”

“I’m having the strangest sense of déjà vu,” a voice suddenly declares.

Whirling, you find the same man watching you from the doorway. Tonight, he’s wearing a white shirt decorated with big red hearts, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and a pair of tight jeans. And that sexy smirk of his.

You frown, clutching your racing heart. “Do you enjoy sneaking up on people like that?”

“Only when they’re somewhere they shouldn’t be.” Hongjoong taps a sign on the door, which declares in extremely big, bold font: ATZ ONLY - KEEP OUT. “It’s clearly stated that this room is off limits. So what’s your excuse tonight?” Though his words are sharp, the gleam in his eye is playful.

Your lips twitch. “That sign probably would’ve worked better if the door had been closed.” You give him an appraising look. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs making sure your brothers keep their clothes on or whatever?”

While he huffs in amusement, you wander over to one of the walls of books, running your fingers along their spines. They’re all labeled with a year. Grabbing last year’s, you let it fall open to a random page of photos. Wow, some of the brothers appear to be really allergic to shirts -

Hongjoong snatches the album from your hands, closing it with a snap. “That’s private,” he informs you, slipping the book back into its slot. “And don’t try to change the subject. No one’s allowed in here but myself and my brothers. So come on.” He jerks his head towards the door.

“Counteroffer,” you say, producing your brownie from your bag.

Hongjoong pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “What is that?”

“A brownie.”

His eyes narrow a little. “Would you say there’s anything special about that brownie?”

You nod. Hongjoong glances out into the hallway. Then he closes the door.

“You’re awfully easy to bribe,” you inform him as the two of you settle on the couch, you in one corner, him taking the spot next to you. Carefully, you pull the brownie apart, handing him half.

“Don’t tell anyone. Can’t have my reputation getting ruined.” He holds his half up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you giggle, tapping your half against his before taking a bite.

Hongjoong devours his brownie in mere seconds. A bit of chocolate clings to his lower lip, his tongue flicking out to capture it, and you force yourself to focus on the remainder of your half, so you’re not just sitting there staring openly at his pretty mouth, as much as you’d like to.

“So, is this your thing? Going to parties just to hide and get high?”

“Ha, no. Not normally. But my roommate keeps insisting that I come with him.”

“And where is your roommate now?”

You snort, licking crumbs from your fingertips. “Probably suctioned to Wooyoung’s face.”

Hongjoong laughs. “Ah, you’re friends with San? He seems like a great guy, from what Woo’s told us.”

“Woo talks about him?” You can’t wait to tell San. You can hear his bashful giggles now.

“Yeah. He won’t shut up about him, actually. It’s nice, but it’s also annoying as fuck.” Hongjoong winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so blunt.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. I love San, but I can only take so much puppy love before I get nauseous.”

“Exactly.” Hongjoong grins. He sinks down further into the couch, legs spreading open as he gets more comfortable.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, long enough for your brain to start asking questions. Is he planning on staying here with you? You’d kinda figured he’d eat the brownie and then go. Shouldn’t he be down at the party, if he’s the president of the frat?

“You know, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not gonna do anything in here but melt into the couch for a little while.”

Hongjoong shrugs. His left hand plays in the rip above the knee in his jeans. “It’s not that I’m afraid you’re gonna do something. It’s just…” he trails off for a few seconds, lost in thought. “I’m not in a party mood tonight. You might not have been trying to hide, but I was.”

“Oh. Shit. Do you - would you rather that I leave, so you can be alone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you can stay. If you want to. I don’t mind your company.”

“Oh,” you say again, in surprise. Something flutters in your chest when he looks at you. “Okay.”

Hongjoong’s fingers return to the tear in his jeans, picking at the strings. “So… do I get to learn your name tonight?”

Oh, right. You’d never actually introduced yourself on the roof.

He peers at you, clearly waiting for your answer, and the flutter gets stronger. What is it about his gaze that makes you want to tease him?

“I don’t know,” you sigh, tilting your head as you look at him. “Have you earned it?”

His eyebrow quirks slightly. “Didn’t know I had to.”

You merely shrug, biting back a grin. He focuses on the wall opposite the couch, mulling over your words, while you sit beside him, primly arranging your skirt over your tights-covered thighs. The couch is ridiculously cushy and you’re already starting to relax into it.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go downstairs and find San,” he says after a moment.

“That’s cheating!”

“Oh, does that upset the rule breaker?” He clutches his chest in mock horror, grinning when you laugh. “Excuse the fuck out of me.”

“I’m not a rule breaker. I just…” you falter for an explanation.

“Don’t care for parties and prefer pot over people.”

Hongjoong cracks up at the face you make in response to his too correct reading of you.

“You’re doing a terrible job of earning my name, just for your information,” you sniff, but when he laughs harder, bumping his shoulder into yours, you cave, giggling. He doesn’t move away when the laughter tapers off.

You make a little small talk. The usual stuff - what’s your major, where are you from, etc. He’s a music production major and apparently spends all his time in the studio, on the opposite side of campus from where your art studio is located. No wonder you’ve never seen him around before.

Eventually the room falls silent again. If it weren’t for the thumping coming through the floor, you could almost forget there are other people in the house. You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, ears straining to make out the music drifting from the first floor. It’s only the drums and bass that you can catch, something pulsating and rhythmic. Hypnotic, lulling you further into relaxation.

That’s when you feel it. That telltale body buzz that starts in your feet and spreads all over. Your thoughts become a little floaty, each one drifting away before you can really grasp them, and you turn to Hongjoong.

“I think I found the drugs,” you giggle.

Hongjoong lets out a single “ha” from deep in his chest, and then he hums. You let your head fall back against the couch and close your eyes.

“Oh shit, there they are,” you hear Hongjoong say, with another laugh, and you start to giggle again, and when you look at him, he’s watching you, and you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, with his face so close to yours. His lips look very kissable, meant to be nibbled and sucked. You long to, biting your own lip as you fantasize about his taste.

Hongjoong sighs. “Damn, I feel good. Thank you. You’re officially my favorite trespasser.”

“Is that a long list?”

His grin widens. “Longer than you’d think.” His eyelids lower a little as he leans closer. The air feels like it’s heating up around you now. Your skin tingles from your high, and it only increases when Hongjoong’s fingers cup your chin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” is what flies out of your mouth in surprise, even though you’re dying to feel his lips on yours.

“Because I like kissing pretty people when I’m high.”

Heat pools in your belly, and you shift on the couch, reaching for him. As your fingers twist in his shirt, your mouths connect. It’s a slow, wet kiss, tongues warm against each other, rolling over and around. Messy, but neither of you care, both lost in the sensation.

When his arms wrap around your back, you slip into his lap, straddling his thighs. His head tilts up to greedily chase your mouth, and you tug his bottom lip with your teeth, shivering at the way he groans. His fingers dig into your shoulder blades as he pulls you down on top of him, so there’s no distance between you, just clothing and heat between you.

Hongjoong nudges your face with his, getting you to turn your head so he can nibble on your earlobe. His hands fondle your ass beneath your skirt, grabbing and pinching the ample flesh through your tights, while his mouth ripples down your cheek and neck, covering your skin in soft kisses, before finding your lips again.

It’s been too long since you’ve made out with someone like this. The last few people you kissed with all treated it like an annoying chore, something perfunctory that had to be performed in order to get what they really wanted. Hongjoong holds you like you’re something to be slowly explored, something to be savored, not just used.

“Feeling good?” He leans back for a second, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he peers at you. His face is flushed, lips darkened from your nipping, and the rather fucked out sight of him has you clutching at his shoulders, desperately pulling his mouth back onto yours.

“So good,” you moan when you come up for air, rolling your hips. He feels so amazing underneath you, hard cock bulging obscenely in his jeans, that you can’t help yourself, humping away mindlessly while you kiss, whining slightly when you can’t quite find the right angle to ease the aching in your clit.

Hongjoong laughs into your mouth, fingers sliding up to grab your hips. “Slow it down, baby,” he whispers, pressing more kisses along your jawline. With his strong grip, he takes control, guiding you back and forth, slower, but more forcefully, his own hips moving to grind himself up into you. “‘M not going anywhere. Take your time.”

Your whole body shudders at his words. With another pitiful whimper, you snake your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair as your mouth dives for his again.

Take your time. If he insists. With his encouragement, you lose yourself in the languorous pace he’s set, soaking panties rubbing on the rough denim below, friction building, a wave that never crests, just rolls on and on. You know you could do this for hours, make out and dry hump like this, without coming. It takes you much longer to come when you’re stoned, but the orgasms are so intense that it’s always worth it.

Your fingers brush over his neck and he shudders beneath you. Intrigued, you lower your mouth to his collarbones, picking a spot exposed by his open shirt, and gently bite down. He groans brokenly, hips jerking upwards, and you lick at the same spot a few times, lazy, slow strokes, before sucking, painting his skin with a love mark.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bucking again, with renewed urgency. Giggling, you sign your work with a light nuzzle before he grabs your chin, frantically bringing your face to his for more kisses, wet and filthy and so sensual that you feel like you’re nearly going feral with desire.

“Hongjoong,” you whine, needing more of him, greedy hands lacing into his hair. Your sense of touch is so heightened right now that the strands feel like silk wrapping around your fingertips.

As you moan again, Hongjoong’s hand travels to your neck, fingers playing there, curling and uncurling. “When you say my name like that, you know what it makes me wanna do?”

“Wha-what?” Your thighs are starting to get damp, covered in slickness from the sound of his husky voice. You grind down harder, gasping in pleasure when he meets your movements with a powerful thrust of his own.

“Sit you on my cock and fuck you stupid.” He bites his lip, looking down at your chest as it jiggles under your sweater. “Let you ride it. Could you do that for me? Ride it real good?”

“Fuck yes!” There’s no hesitation in your answer. It’s all you want right now, to feel him all over you and inside you. Yes, of course you’d be so good for him, because you know he’d be good to you. Even though you’ve only really just met him, you feel it in your soul.

“I bet you would. Ride it like a fuckin’ champ. Make it bouncy.” His right hand squeezes your ass, making you squeal into his kiss.

A dreamlike haze hangs over everything now. You stare open-mouthed while his left hand fondles your breast over your sweater. Then he tugs your top up and your bra down, far enough for the cool air to kiss your exposed skin. His deft fingers pinch your nipple sharply for a few painfully pleasurable seconds before his hot tongue replaces them, and your drug-and-lust-addled brain wonders dumbly for a moment who let out such a shameless mewl before you recognize that it was you.

Time stretches in that surreal way that it does when you’re high, making every minute feel like an eternity. Hongjoong laves his tongue over your other nipple, sucking the pert bud into his mouth, and you keen, head lolling back while pleasure ripples through you. His tongue is magic. You bet he gives good head. You hope you find out.

Unfortunately, though, while you’re wondering what his mouth would feel like on your cunt, time has not actually stopped, and there is still a party going on. Which you are rudely reminded of when it suddenly spills over into the room, popping the little bubble that you and Hongjoong have been hiding in.

“Don’t worry, no one’s ever in- oh, shit!”

A loud curse draws your attention away from Hongjoong’s tongue and to the tall brother standing in the doorway, frozen like a deer. There’s a cute coed holding his hand, peeking around him to see what made him yell.

“Yunho, what the fuck, man?” Hongjoong groans, a scowl twisting his kiss-swollen lips. “Get out!”

You’re moving sluggishly, brain lagging with arousal and what you’re recognizing is a lot of THC for such a small brownie, but Hongjoong seems to have more of his wits about him, as he carefully lets go of your sweater so you’re covered again. He doesn’t try to slide you from his lap, just places his hands on your waist to keep you steady.

Tall guy’s sputtering now. “I-I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked, and - “

“It’s fine, Yun, just go, all right?” Hongjoong glances at you. “You okay?”

If you were sober, you’d probably be horrifically embarrassed to be caught tits-out. Might even run for the door so you could go home and hide for the rest of the weekend or month or year. But between the brownie and the man currently checking in with you, you’re feeling too good right now to really give a shit what anyone else thinks.

You nod at Hongjoong’s question, beaming happily. A crooked smile spreads across Hongjoong’s face, his thumbs etching tiny circles into your sides.

“Hongjoong?” Yunho’s basically a statue at this point, completely immovable in the doorway. “I know we’re not supposed to let anyone else in here, but seeing as how you have someone else in here, uh… am I gonna get in trouble for this?”

“If I say no, will you fuckin’ leave already?” Hongjoong glares at the other man, and it does not escape your attention how sexy he looks when he’s mad.

“I don’t know. I mean, we’ll leave, but I don’t know if you’re just saying that to get me t-”

“Get out!”

Your sudden shout snaps Yunho into action. He slams the door shut, leaving you alone with Hongjoong, who is gawking at you with his mouth hanging open. Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“Sorry,” you apologize, cringing. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“No, that was so hot,” Hongjoong declares, leaning forward to kiss you eagerly.

“Yeah?” you pant against his lips in surprise.

He nods, nose jostling yours, and kisses you again, and again, until you’re dizzy, needing oxygen, but you’re unwilling to tear yourself away from his mouth. All you want is to lose yourself in him again, crawl back into that heat from before.

Just as you feel it starting to happen, he pulls away.

“We should probably lock the door,” he says, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are studying your face carefully, you realize, looking for any signs of objection. For some reason, that just makes your answer even more affirmative.

“Good idea,” you reply, slipping off his lap and crossing the room in three quick steps. You shoot him a glance over your shoulder as you twist the lock. Either the pot is slowing his reactions as much as it’s slown yours, or he doesn’t care that you catch him openly staring at your ass. He grips his cock through his jeans, hand flexing as he squeezes slightly.

His gaze is too intense even from across the room. It makes you shy, has you lowering your head as you return to the couch. His fingers slide under your chin, tilt your face up to meet his ravenous lips as he guides you onto your back.

Your boots hit the floor one after the other, followed by his sneakers. One of his arms props him up over you. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs apart, allowing him to slot himself in between. He swallows your sigh when his fingers roam inwards, slipping against your core.

“Damn, baby, did I do all this?” he asks, rubbing at the dampness seeping through the layers of your panties and tights.

You pluck at the buttons on his shirt, palms skimming over the warm skin that’s revealed beneath. He hisses quietly when you brush over his stomach. Seems it’s not just his neck that’s sensitive. Good to know.

“Yes,” you nod, squirming slightly when he drops his hand to cup you. His thumb applies a bit of pressure so achingly near your clit that you whine, almost as loudly as you’d yelled before. “Please tell me you’re gonna do something about it.”

He smirks then, that maddeningly taunting smile of his. The one that tells you not to be fooled by his quiet demeanor. The one that tells you he’s trouble. “As soon as you tell me your name.”

His hand drags frustratingly slowly upwards, spreading your slickness as it goes, making you whimper. “Hongjoong!”

“No, that’s my name.” His fingertips are crawling now, moving closer and closer to the waistband of your tights, one millimeter at a time.

The anticipation is driving you insane. And it seems you’re not the only one enjoying it, judging by the way he’s rutting his bulge into your thigh.

“Don’t tease,” you complain, pouting.

“But that’s my favorite part,” he shoots back, grinning madly. Fuck. He’s trouble for sure.

His fingers trace shapes over your hips, back and forth, long lines that have you huffing in frustration. Then he curls them under the waistband, pulling them down, just the tiniest fraction of an inch, then another, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as he looks at you, and then -

He stops.

You groan, head tossing back to bounce against the arm of the couch.

“YN, my name is YN, fuck, I yield!”

“That didn’t take long,” he gloats. “So desperate for me. I love it.”

If you weren’t still high, you might be embarrassed. Instead, you’re brazen, whimpering in agreement. You want him, just like he wants you, why bother to hide it?

He finally releases you from your misery by rolling down all that annoying clothing that separates you from him, tossing it onto the floor. A gentle scrape of his fingernails on your bare skin has you trembling, begging for more of his touch. He obliges, lowering his mouth to leave hot-breathed kisses on your thighs.

“Y’know what else I like to do when I’m high?” he asks, watching you with hooded eyes. His hands haven’t stopped moving, are languidly pushing your skirt up to your waist.

“What?”

“Eat pussy.” He licks his lips. “Wanna eat you, baby. Can I?”

“Please,” you groan, reaching for your skirt, pulling it up as far as you can, baring yourself to him. He grins, fingers spreading you open, and you twitch as the little puffs of his delighted laughter swirl over your sensitive skin.

Hongjoong flattens his tongue, dragging it up and down a few times. You keen, fingers digging into the wool of your skirt, clutching the material tightly, when he keeps moving up, circling your clit, before he undulates his tongue, making the tiny nub bounce. Then he switches back to licking stripes, pressing the taut muscle more firmly against you with each pass.

You feel like your entire body is pulsating in time with your clit. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so wet,” he groans happily, lapping without restraint at your pussy, sloppy and loud. “Could fuckin’ drown down here.”

His mouth. It’s sinful, how good he is with it, the way he kisses your folds and sucks on your clit. Uses it to say the filthiest things, keeping up a running commentary:

Look at you, dripping all over the place. Such a mess, baby. Let’s see how much wetter you can get.

Could eat this pretty pussy for hours and never get my fill. Got me so greedy.

Mmmph, love the way you taste. Bet you’re even sweeter when you come.

You don’t catch every word, given the way he mumbles them into your cunt, but you hear enough to have you babbling in response, chanting his name and praising his skills over and over.

When your words dissolve into moans, Hongjoong changes it up, adding his fingers to the mix. His mouth seals around your clit while he strokes inside you, warm walls spreading to allow his lithe digits to plunge in and out. Then he thrusts his tongue into your clenching hole, using his fingertips to roll your thrumming nub around, lightly squeezing as he fucks you with his mouth.

“Hongjoong!” You’re losing your mind, your entire body vibrating with pleasure. “Holy shit, please!” Can’t even finish your sentence, your foggy brain too busy focusing on holding your head up so you can watch him. Drool runs from the corner of your mouth, lips slack as you pant wildly.

He laughs, popping off your clit with a loud slurp. “Please what?” He nuzzles his face against your thigh, kissing it gently. “What do you need?”

“I - I need…” You break off with a sudden mewl as he presses insistently into that soft spot on your inner walls, like he’s trying to leave an impression of his fingertip. “Oh fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he vows, catching your eye. His face is a mess, hair damp with sweat, a shiny layer of your arousal smeared all over his mouth and chin. His hips keep rolling into the couch beneath him, and his voice wobbles a little as he speaks, but his gaze is unwavering. “Just lie back and let me do my thing. I’ll get you there.”

He drops his mouth to your cunt again, and keeps his word.

Time expands again as the tension inside you snaps. Your orgasm pulsates through you, flowing like a wave through your tingling body, wiping away all coherent thought, even turning your vision white for a few long seconds. Hongjoong’s fingers continue to massage your g-spot while his tongue still flutters over your clit, and you slowly come back to yourself, inhaling deeply before sobbing his name.

He lifts his head momentarily to observe the results of his hard work. “That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmurs, tongue skimming down to lap at your release. Lost in ecstasy, you thread your hand through his hair, tugging his face closer to your cunt, and ride out your high on his tongue, hips bucking erratically. He voices his approval with a guttural moan.

Like any other time you’re high, you come for several minutes, shaking and twitching, panting and moaning. When your pelvis finally ceases moving and your fingers release their grip on his hair, Hongjoong pulls away. He doesn’t sit up, just lays his cheek on your hip, dark eyes scanning your face.

“I was right. You taste sweet when you cum.”

Jesus. That mouth. You start to giggle, flustered by his statement, both embarrassed and pleased, and he joins you, head bouncing slightly on your shaking stomach. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the need to feel him on top of you, to let his weight press you down, anchor you to reality, so with frantic hands you guide him back up to your waiting mouth.

His kisses are slower now, softer. He’s still hard beneath his jeans, grinding into you, but it’s not as desperate as it was when he was humping the couch. You slide your hands down his chest, down his stomach, down to where the buttons on this waistband lay.

Hongjoong ignores your little cry of protest when he suddenly draws away, sitting back on his heels and peering down, glimmering eyes merrily taking in the state of you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells you, and you believe him. “I’m glad you broke in here tonight.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “I didn’t break - you know what? Not important.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring pointedly at his crotch. “Don’t you need help with that? I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He smirks. “The party’s not over yet. We’ll get there.” Your stomach somersaults at the promise laced into his voice. “But speaking of parties…”

Right. Holy shit, there’s still an entire frat partying right outside these walls. Hongjoong’s unbelievable tongue managed to make you forget that for a while.

“I should probably go downstairs and check on things,” he finishes with a sigh, buttoning his shirt up halfway.

It’s strange, you’re still basking in the afterglow of your climax, and yet you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

It’s just like when you get really high and then eat an entire convenience store’s worth of snacks. Weed makes you insatiable. Hongjoong just gave you an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re already dying for more.

Maybe you should thank him and let the moment be what it was.

“Right. Of course.” Begrudgingly, you let him go of him. He rises slowly, stretching and rolling his neck. “Um. That was great. I guess… I guess I’ll see you around?”

Hongjoong laughs, gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

Your heart pounds a quick beat at his smile.

“Why?” you inquire. “Worried I’ll learn all of Alpha Tau’s deepest darkest secrets if I stay here alone? Think you need to keep an eye on me?”

“Nah,” he replies, grabbing your hand. You let him tug you to your feet, let him pull hard enough that you crash into him, your palms landing on his chest while he slings his arm around your back to catch you. “I just want to keep my hands on you.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #fic: hideaway

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cherrybyunss · 6 months

Text

Ship: Park Jisung (NCT) x female reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Smoking, Dirty Talking, Oral (M receiving), Fingering, Protected Sex, Nipple Play.

A/N: This is the first scene of the new fiction I'm working on called "Make Me Feel Lightweight", which was inspired by the song "Streets" by Doja Cat. And by inspired, I mean I was listening to the song an started writing. The entire story is a little angsty but this excerpt is just pure smut, so till I'm done, please go ahead and enjoy whatever smut excerpts I post on here lol.

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), not proofread, protection is important, this is purely fictional and has nothing to do with the real idol.

cheryybyunss Masterlist

________________

“Hey.”

Courtesy of the flashing lights and loud music of the club, combined with the alcohol in your system, you’d barely heard yourself, but you were sure you had the attention of the man you’d whispered to, with the lingering touch, and the dangerous eye contact – his body language matching your own flirtatious one.

“Hi.”

Jisung was a junior in college. He was a part of the brother fraternity of the sorority you used to be in. Part of the same social circle, you’d talked to him enough over the past couple years, quantitatively and qualitatively, to occasionally be considered close.

You showed him the cigarette in your hand. You wished to smoke with him alone, and he seemed to love the idea, for he took your hand and led the two of you to a secluded corner where the bass from the sound system didn’t feel like your own heartbeat.

“Say,” You spoke as Jisung took the last puff. “Are you single?” Just to be sure.

“Yes.” Jisung breathed, exhaling the smoke. Damn was he hot.

But you knew that. “Do you do hook-ups?”

“Yes.” His eyes got darker, in spite of the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

“And...” You stepped in front of him as you spoke. “Do you...” You moved in closer and spoke against his ear. “Hook up with people you might have to see again...” You made your way down his ear, your lips ever so slightly tracing the skin. “And again...” You breathed against his neck, as if waiting for his permission. “And again.”

You felt him snap as he turned you around and slammed you against the wall, and his lips against yours. You felt your soul leave your body from how fucking good that felt in your tummy. Jisung was hot.

His hand grabbed your waist under your top, and you gasped, clutching his back and shoulders for support. The longer you kissed, the more desperate you grew, and Jisung was the same.

He pushed your chin up with his thumb as he frantically moved down to kiss your neck with the same heat, and you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back.

Ah yes. Just what you’d wanted.

He found a weak spot, and sucked, and you positively lost your mind.

He pulled away, catching his breath, mercifully letting you do the same, and looked at you with eyes that made chills run down your spine.

“You sure like dangerous games.” He spoke, not looking away even for a second.

And you smiled playfully in the drunken haze, as you took his hand, slowly bringing his fingers up to your mouth, and his eyes turned dark with anticipation.

You licked a stripe up his fingers, looking him straight in the eyes, before closing in on two, and taking your sweet time pulling them out as you sucked in.

You were making your own case worse if you were being honest, for his hands were the fucking epitome of sex appeal, and the reason you’d first gotten off to the thought of the younger boy fucking you.

But you could see him gradually lose his mind as his breathing got heavier, and reveled in the effect you were having, pressing your legs together for your own sake.

Jisung was hot.

You leaned in, whispering into his ear again. “You wish you were privy to the games I like, sweetheart.”

And he grabbed your hand and made his way across the club.

You were sure some of your friends had seen you. And maybe you weren’t supposed to fuck Jisung. But it was way past you to care. You had nothing to lose anymore.

The restroom would’ve been a nuisance, so you ever so discreetly snuck the two of you into the staff-only restroom, which turned out to be way cleaner and more spacious than you’d imagined.

But that thought could only last so long when Jisung pushed you up against the counter in front of the mirror, using his own arm as a shield from the impact as the other circled your waist so your back was pressed up against his chest.

He nuzzled into your neck as the two of you stood face to face with your reflection, before licking a strip up to a sensitive spot, and sucked again, tightening his grip on your waist.

You gasped as your eyes rolled shut, and your head fell back onto his shoulder, giving him access for more. But you needed to see. See how bothered you looked at his mercy.

“Allow me,” He looked your reflection straight in the eyes as whispered against your ear, and you felt yourself lose your mind as you felt impossibly turned on by him.

His hand moved down, making you burn in anticipation, before he pulled your skirt up and ran a couple fingers between your legs.

You shuddered, your legs almost giving in.

He pushed the cloth adorning your core to the side, and exhaled as his fingers massaged the slit, making your breath come out in broken moans.

“So fucking wet...” Jisung spoke before biting onto your ear.

“Aah–”

He teased the clit and entrance a little, simultaneously leaving hickeys on your neck and shoulders.

But you groaned in desperation, and he bit down onto your skin as he pushed a finger inside and curled it onto the sweetest spot, and you saw stars.

Not allowing you fall forward, he propped your chin up with his thumb. “Look at you, so pretty.”

He hummed in satisfaction, a dark smile appearing on his face when you clenched around his fingers. His compliment had a condescending tone but you loved every bit of it.

He found the perfect rhythm as you screamed in ecstasy, your back arching away from him and legs closing in, but you were no match for his strength, for he continued to assault that one spot till you were clenching around his fingers and begging him not to stop.

“Jisung–” You were cut off by your own moaning. “Oh my god, that feels amazing!” You managed to exclaim.

Jisung smiled, and you caught the sight of him just in time as he licked a strip up against your ear and breathed, “Cum for me.”

You felt your soul leave your body as you came all onto his fingers, and he knew exactly how to let you ride that wave out. It was the best fucking orgasm you’d had in a long time.

And looking at the mess you called yourself in the mirror through and after it – with your flushed out cheeks and teary eyes, made you feel butterflies in your stomach – a feeling you knew you wouldn’t be acknowledging ever again.

Jisung only waited till you’d caught your breath before turning you around and kissing you like a man starved. And not yet having recovered completely at all, it made you lose your balance.

One of your hands latched onto his shoulder, as you supported yourself up against the slab with the other.

His tight grip on your waist, combined with the heat he kissed you with was starting to make you dizzy, when you felt his hard on against your abdomen, and of all feelings, it made you blush.

Never breaking away from him – for it felt like you never could, one of your hands travelled forth on its own, and you heard Jisung gasp when you bit his lip at the same time as you gave his length a stroke.

Jisung pulled away and looked at you with shadowed eyes, and breath heavy. And you felt your walls clench around nothing.

“Do you have a condom?” You spoke.

And Jisung wasted no time before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, and taking out the condom before discarding the wallet onto the counter.

He watched you as you unbuckled his belt and lowered yourself onto the floor.

Jisung was big.

The initial shock wore off as he caressed your hair, setting your skin on fire, before holding all the hair back so you had none in your way.

You’d had guys acting like this all the time, but Jisung was driving you haywire for some reason.

He was hard already, standing bigger than anything you thought your already sensitive core could take at the time but you couldn’t help but give him a couple of strokes, meeting his eyes every now and then, before taking the length into your mouth, and sucking.

Jisung took sharp breath, his grip on your hair tightening.

You continued to work your mouth in ways you knew would drive him crazy, and his groans and sighs felt like music to your ears.

Saving yourself from getting carried away, you pulled away and stood up. And thankfully, Jisung needed no instructions, for he grabbed your waist and slip you onto the counter top before pulling your panties off and discarding them.

He rolled the condom on, lined his cock up against your entrance, and with a singular nod from you, he rammed into you, making you grab onto him and scream.

Oh my god! It was absolutely outrageous how amazing Jisung felt.

“Aaah–” Your screams came out in broken moans with every thrust as you felt yourself get consumed by pleasure in lieu of sanity.

“You like that?”

“Fuck yes! Jisung– Aah! Please don’t s-stop!”

“Of course, baby.” He spoke in a harsh voice, and bit your ear, increasing the force he was using, and you positively lost any semblance of grace you’d ever felt.

One of Jisung’s hands went behind you, and he undid the clasp your bra, before pulling your top down, and exposing your breasts to him.

He grabbed one of them, still fucking into you like an animal, and sucked onto your nipple. And your back arched as your primitive self practically took over with how loud you allowed yourself to scream as you came.

Jisung fucked you through your orgasm, the way you clenched around him triggering his own, hands desperately gripping onto the other as waves of pleasure washed over the two of you.

Both of you stayed in the same position till you caught your breath, and then looked at each other, before a smile made its way onto both of your faces.

Jisung carefully pulled away, discarding the condom, and getting to cleaning up after the two of you.

“Fuck.” You said, and grinned as you sat atop the slab.

“What?” Jisung smiled softly himself.

“I needed you to be good at this so bad.” You said, covering your face sheepishly.

And Jisung chuckled. “I’m assuming I was.”

“An understatement, if I may.”

Jisung walked over in front of you, cupped your face with one of his hands, and kissed you.

Your eyes fell shut, and a familiar feeling returned.

Jisung kissed your jaw, and then neck one more time before pulling away.

“Should I be looking forward to getting used to this?” He smiled.

And you felt the sinking feeling deepen till it clutched your brain.

You shook your head, plopping yourself up on the floor with your hands.

“It was a one-time thing, Ji.”

Jisung looked like a mix of puzzled and disappointed. Rightfully so.

“I have someone I love.”

________________

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lady-phasma · 1 month

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How did Feyd treat Lady Margot like what was your sense of the scene onscreen? Like do u think he may have assaulted her in his own way even if it wasn't shown or did she have him do what pleased her physically using her powers? I've got questions lots!!! Do u think he knew of the successful pregnancy or was he like I don't care? Love ya!!!

What a great ask! I am so flattered and excited that you asked me! All that love right back at you!

So much here to discuss and I have had a few conversations about one of these questions with various people in the past couple weeks so I've definitely been thinking about it. I don't want to get too serious and heavy but I will talk about consent a bit.

All this makes me want to write a breakdown of Margot's assessment (and maybe that's something people would be interested in).

So, The Voice. I've read various opinions that he followed her and knelt willingly. I have the movie audio I could upload to support my perspective but I won't bother with that here. I don't think she says "put your right hand in the box" with the Voice but I know the other commands are not with his consent.

The following is conjecture/headcanon. I think he would have had sex with Margot without the Voice and her Bene Gesserit tricks, but he wasn't given the opportunity to make that decision. I think he is very promiscuous, but discerning. Having said that, "desire and humiliation" are his weaknesses. So would he have wanted to humiliate her for using the Voice on him? Perhaps. I have yet to decide whose humiliation is his weakness: avoiding his own or causing it for others.

I think many of us can agree that Feyd isn't going to be the nicest guy in intimate situations no matter how we imagine him. I can't believe that he has had time to fall in love with Margot, but, just like Paul, he has had dreams of the Bene Gesserit who was sent to test him. There may be some intimacy present already. However, we know he passed the Gom Jabbar test, would Margot have needed to use the Voice again after he passed? If he had failed he would have died and if he passed he might have enjoyed the pain so much that he needed very little convincing.

(Fun note: in the book the Reverend Mother says about Paul's test "We seldom administer this to men-children" so did they have to wait for Feyd's coming of age?)

Here's where I'm of two minds: I want to indulge in my little hyperfixation and imagine him being autonomous and having rough, fun, raunchy sex because he chose to. I also don't believe he had much choice in the matter. He was part of the Bene Gesserit breeding program and few people from these great houses have had much choice in that in the last 90 generations.

Cognitive dissonance is the answer. Both conflicting beliefs can be held at the same time. That's probably the most unsatisfactory answer ever, but hear me out. One scenario paints him as an unwilling victim and the other as an amoral psycho. I like either of those options. I'm actually having some fun ideas about a Feyd x Margot short fic I could write about the unwilling victim personality as I type this. That is why cognitive dissonance is fine with me in fandoms. I can eat my cake and have it too.

Lastly, in my headcanon, Feyd has a breeding kink so he would have cared but I don't think he knew in the movie. That's just speculation on my part. I definitely read and (will) write fics with breeding kink for this psycho because he would love to pass on his genetics. As many of you know, I rarely write breeding kink but for this man, I am making an exception.

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #margot fenring #asked and answered #feyd rautha is my new muse #dune part 2 #dune 2 #feyd #feyd rautha headcanon #feyd headcanon #feyd-rautha harkonnen

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fatuismooches · 5 months

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Hi hi, it's me muzzle anon again ! How are you? I hope you are doing well, also sorry for this long rambling-

I juST remembered that when lyney and lynette were announced (?) some people thought that they would be One playable character, so I immediately thought how fragile reader and dottore being one playable character lol

just switching between them when you do a charge attack like furina's ability but instead of just color palate changing, a whole new person gets on the field lol

It's fun to imagine what their voiceline would be :]

Especially if we imagine that the only reason you would switch would be because they are in a fight when changing so the voicelines would be worried and/or intense?

And also fragile!reader being a support character and dottore being a DPS would fit the whole "we only need/have each other" mindset going on ?

ALSO ALSO when you add them to your team they could come into the screen dancing? Waltzing into their section then standing close to each other <3 evil couple being cool vibes

Their idle and voicelines probably would be still the same ?, talking as if the other is not there but maybe one special idle is like that one twirle/dance (?) idle from honkai star rail with Clara and Svarog? OH and Clara stumbles in that idle and svarog catches her , makes sense since fragile reader stumbles while trying to dance too so Dottore catches them by their waist and smirks, sharp teeth full display

...Also you know how characters has voicelines for hits/ damage? Reader and Dottore could have voicelines for warning each other to be careful, especially Dottore getting very worried when reader takes a heavy hit but when it comes to other characters he just goes scara mode maybe worse than, "Why are you even here?" or similiar to xiao going, "Weak."

(And maybe reader comparing the character that took damage to Dottore, praising him while degrading them gently lol <3)

Tho I'm not really sure how the teapot would work lol maybe there would be an option to switch them like you switch from night to day lol OR they automatically change when it's day/night I imagine that fragile reader would like the day time more and Dottore night, because he is a shady guy (and also because when he looks up to stars he remembers the Akademia days he had with reader and how they used to also stare at the stars <3)

With them being considered one character, now they are together forever <3

Sorry for the long message again <3 also english is not my first language so sorry if some parts seem weird I just rambled a lot without checking since i got very excited of the idea of a playable reader after the last post ehehe anyway hope u and everyone has a nice night/day!

- muzzle anon

OH MY GOSH NFKFEWFE I JUST LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS MUZZLE ANON... ugh fragile reader and Dottore being playable is so real!! And i too remember that about the twins!! man that was really long ago huh? Anyway...

I ADORE the idea of them switching while doing a charge attack!! omfgrfwfr I can just imagine reader doing a dramatic, fancy pose and then it switches to Dottore rolling his eyes at your antics and adjusting his gloves... ugh he loves to indulge you, doesn't he? And hear me out too: instead of pneuma/ousia... two different elements/weapons too. They're just meta like that 😌 and extra supports who? Bennett? Nah, we don't need him. Reader is all the support Dottore needs to one-shot everyone <3 I imagine Dottore is the one who tries to hoard the screen time (he prefers to fight instead of you, he's worried about you pushing yourself too hard, but eventually he has to realize that he has to let you do your own thing too... he's hella overprotective still)

THE ADDING THEM INTO YOUR PARTY ANIMATION... CHEF'S KISS. I like to imagine reader is the one who tries to take the lead in this stuff :) Because even though they're still sick they're better than before, so they want to take advantage of that as much as they can and show Dottore how much they've changed :) You pull him into the frame of the screen and he twirls you around as you fall back into his chest, hands still intertwined :3 (traveler looking at your dramatic asses) AND THE IDEA OF DOTTORE CATCHING FRAGILE READER DURING THEIR IDLES...... UGHREGR WHY DO YOU BLESS ME WITH SO MANY GOOD IDEAS. Reader trying their best to hide their lousy skills from Dottore so they can get better on their own, but nope! You should have known that your husband is always watching you, nothing gets past him! He catches you by the waist only to pull you back up with ease and spin you around flawlessly, chuckling as you stumble right back into his chest.

Dottore would straight up not care at ALL about the other members if they got hurt 💀, I imagine he'd only speak if anything happened to you, or he'd be condescending about how useless they were 💀 reader is similar but they're nicer to others, like if a fellow Harbinger got hurt, they'd worry, but if it was an Archon or someone that annoys them, in general, they'd just laugh at them (and receive little to no healing)

In the teapot, I like to imagine they have two separate bodies there when you place them, so they just always stand next to close to each other. When you talk to either of them, both of them will end up having a conversation with you. Also, when you make them specific furnishings they like each of them and will comment on the other's tastes lol (Dottore - makeshift lab, you - cozy Sumerian room)

"Huh, will it kill you to put away the research? You do not need a lab in the teapot, dear."

"Oh, but I do, [Name]. How else will I make your medicine?"

"Ah... sorry about that. How about you come to my room later so we can relax?"

Traveler: ...

They are truly the embodiment of do not separate.

UGH I CAN GO ON AND ON ABOUT THEM!! 😭 let's not forget the matching skins... you and him in the Akademiya's uniforms again ;) AND DONT APOLOGIZE MUZZLE ANON!! I LOVE THIS AND LONG ASKS!!

#smooches talks #muzzle anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #playable reader <3 #i just love them so much oh ym gosh #i cant dance for shit but!! they're just elegant like that!!#well its more like dottore is elegant. ur just trying ur best #but yes. i imagine fragile reader enjoys the day because they havent felt the sun warm them so nicely in so long #and the teapot is the perfect temp... they love it!

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packet-of-staples · 1 month

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So I found some Rawfury videos of Yuri Lowenthal, Krizia Bajos and Cissy Jones talking about their characters and talking about the game before it was released (I was looking for clips for OC voice claims) and there was something in Cissy's Vivian video that kinda stuck out to me.

So what she says about Vivian exactly is: "Arcadia to her is- its not only where she's built her career, its where she's building her legacy, and uh, for her this is something really important. She wants to leave something of value, something that's worth a lot to people-"

Now, from a non spoiler point of view this is like, oh yeah rich Ceo lady wants to leave a mark on the world. Ceos are always talking about legacy, wanting to leave something behind, be something great yadda yadda. Added bonus if you know that she's supposed to be Elijah's '''Granddaughter''', she wants to continue her family's legacy all checks out.

But, knowing who she really is, not Elijah's granddaughter but one of the Arcadia 6, makes this sentence a lot more interesting. You could see this as her wanting to remake her legacy, because she technically already had one. Emily Garland is one of the 6 Arcadian born citizens to escape the dome, that's something pretty cool to be known for. But she threw that away, she sold out and chose to support the very company that oppressed her and many others like her. So now she has to make something more of herself to justify that choice. If she can make Arcadia greater, bring it out of its current slump like Howard Ashman did for Disney, then she's no longer the escapee who sold out because she was too weak to handle the outside world, she's the amazing woman who made American Arcadia popular again!

Cissy goes on to say: "-and so she works really really hard to make this thing, um, the best it can be with the most interesting people-" (She also goes on to call Trevor 'a bit of an L 7' or a square and I think that's really funny, like yeah, yeah he wouldn't be there, he would be square)

She does work really hard to leave something that, in her eyes, is positive to her image. She's reinventing herself to make her crawling back to the company worth it. To prove to herself that it wasn't a mistake and to leave a legacy that, hopefully, most people will look fondly on instead of in contempt or betrayal. She wants to leave something of value, because I can imagine there is a part of her that doesn't hold any value in herself, not after failing to make a difference that actually mattered and becoming part of the problem.

And I dunno I feel like that adds just an extra layer to her which is pretty cool. I could also be reading way too much into this idk.

Anyway, the other two videos are very cool too. Yuri talks about how Trevor's life isn't boring like Walton thinks it is, its just 'Exciting in the wrong way'. He also talks about how he thinks lots of people will relate to Trevor (So true) and how just because your life may be simple, it doesn't mean its boring and not worth living which I think is very sweet. Thank you Yuri. Krizia talks about how she really related to Angela because she grew up on Puerto Rico and how she got to add a couple of 'spicy words' as she put it, in her dialogue for a bit of extra authenticity. She also talked about how Walton was the job Angela always wanted, but after 'peaking behind the curtain' she realised that it wasn't the dream she thought is was, it's both kinda heart breaking but also very relatable, especially I'm sure to those in the entertainment industry. It makes me really want to know what her 'peak behind the curtain' moment was and what the steps where to get her to this point in more detail (Hey hey, Out of the Blue, hey please. please make that prologue thing you said was a good idea of mine on twitter. Hey, please? Please? It has the Regi Davis stamp of approval, please?)

The videos are very cool I'll put them under the cut if you're interested. I just wanted to have a ramble cause I haven't in a while and I've just been thinking about this.

youtube

#american arcadia #vivian walton #emily garland #trevor hills #angela solano #staples rambles #Also speaking of Regi Davis did you guys know he has Javert as his profile picture on twitter? I just thought that was really funny.#Youtube

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robynlilyblack · 2 years

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One Day at a Time

Chapter 1: November 3rd 1981

Remus Lupin x fem! marauder! reader (eventually)

Summary: Even when you escape, you never truly escape

Warnings: swearing, mentions of past relationships (Sirius x reader), feeling sick, death, torture, as well as not eating and a lack of appetite, canon character deaths, angst, slight trauma, grief, bittersweet fluff

A/n: 6.4k words, thank you to everyone thats already showed support i'm so excited for this series its not even real xx

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 2

Your head leant against the window, the trains soft vibrations on the glass near lulling you to sleep as you watched the cityscape you had grown accustomed to shift into rolling fields, moodily beautiful forestry, and the occasional pretty village. You had no idea how far it was now to Cardiff, time had no meaning for you anymore, not when you had a future or past to look fondly towards or back on

Betrayal is a fickle thing. There were 9 people in this world you trusted with your life. There was the four who were your best friends, your fellow marauders, yet now two lay dead, one you hoped was were you were headed and the other in a cell for it all. There was the three you saw as sisters, all gone, one saving her child, another died unarmed, the last in vengeance of the second. And finally there were two, the soulmates who were now only here physically, their minds long gone

“Bless you” you whisper when the lady across from you sneezes, the same one from the station earlier

She gives you that funny smile again, that kind smile laced with gratitude yet had clear concern and, dare say, pity sown in there too. You watch as she wipes her nose and returns to her morning paper, softly flicking the page and folding it around on itself as she presumably starts the crossword in it. While she pulls out a pen your gaze drifts down to the article now painted on the back, that ache in your chest returning

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Mass London street murderer sentenced for life The man who killed 13 civilians in an explosion in broad daylight has been handed a life sentence. Witnesses of the scene said they heard his former friend exclaim he was responsible for killing another young couple who passed the night before on Halloween. Twenty-one-year-old, S… -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Sucking a sharp breath, you look out the window once more, holding the tears back with such force your nose feels like it’s burning. You didn’t want to cry, not because you were in public, in that moment you couldn’t care less, no, you didn’t want to cry because you knew you would never stop if you did, let alone survive another wave alone

Watching the world whisk by you distantly heard an announcement, you were approaching…something, border for wales, the next stop, final stop you didn’t know. Your eyes merely bounced over the environment, imagining a person running and jumping over all the obstacles which came their way. You figured the person was yourself, running away from the darkness of London, trying to escape to the light, to Remus who was most likely engulfed in the same darkness

That was if he knew of course, Mary had mentioned days ago she was trying to get a hold of him, but with the moon being only days prior to that fateful night it was likely he was too weak to pick up

Your eyes fluttered as the train passed under a bridge. It takes a second for your eyes to focus once more when you exit and find your now looking at a large open field, but when they do your heart leaps and shatters all at once at the sight of a lone stag in the center

“James” you whisper quietly, hand touching the window as the animal looks in your direction, making eye contact

You keep your eyes fixed on him for as long as you can, barley even letting yourself blink as you refuse to lose one second of it, for once he’s gone you’ll never see him again…you’re never going to see James again. You knew this already yet suddenly it was hitting you all over again and you felt like you were going to throw up

“Can you watch my stuff?” you ask the lady a little breathless, clearly distressed but you hide it mildly well as you gesture to your bags

She nods “Of course dear” and gives you a smile

With that you stand, making your way through the train towards the bathroom, ignoring the looks of the people you pass by who are most likely judging your attire and wild hair. Shakily you reach the bathroom just as someone else on the other side is approaching with who you assume is their child

“Oh hello” he greets, head tilting as he takes in your appearance “You can go first if you want” he offers earning a frustrated pout from his toddler

“No no” you shake your head “Please” you wave your hand towards the door, letting them go in and the man gives you a thankful smile

As the child trails behind they look up at you, eyes piercing your soul for a moment before the door closes and your body collapses into the wall. Hand pressed against it as you try to manage your breathing, not only was James’ death real but Lily’s, the universe really said fuck you when she put a child with big green eyes before you

Your heart was sand at this point, the waves of grief grinding it down until you were left with dust, mind replaying all your best memories but at the end he always arrived, in his prison rags laughing like he did in the newspaper.

“Thank you…a-are you alright there?” the man says as he exits the bathroom while the child already rushing off down the train to hug what must be his partner

Turning around you put on your best face “Just a little motion sick is all” you wave it off “Haven’t been on a train for almost 3 years”

He nods “My husbands the same, he used to go to some private school up north” he tells you with a fond smile and your eyes look back down the carriage, squinting as you recognise the boy, a Ravenclaw, who was the year above your own

Good to know someone made it out, you think and for the first time you felt a brief smile cross your face

“You have a beautiful family” you look back at him, seeing his smile grow before he takes a few paces towards them

“Hope you feel better soon” he turns back to which you whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ before entering the bathroom

Calmly you lock the door then take a step into the small room, but as your eyes meet the mirror you grimace at yourself. You looked broken in every essence of the word. A shell of your former self. The girl that laughed and shouted with her friends, that loved with everything and never gone in half-heartedly, that thought she found a boy just like her only to find out he was actually a monster

Yeah…maybe broken was an understatement

A thump formed in your throat, the brief and fleeting happy feeling gone like all the rest and the guilt of feeling good for even a millisecond sank in. Your knees give way and you collapse to the floor, clutching the sides of the toilet as you try to calm yourself down. You must have stayed there for a good few minutes before falling to your side, one hand still gripping the bowl

As your senses returned you cringed “Ew” you look at your hands, closing your eyes as you realised you just held on to a public toilet, merlin a train toilet for that matter

Treacherously you stand up using the sink for help, holding on it as you looked into the mirror once more. No, you weren’t a shell, you were a completely different person. Once you led people on missions, face the darkest wizards, concurred your fear, the idea of your own mortality but grief was a different kind of pain, lace that with betray and heartbreak you have a deadly combination. The kind that destroys and changes you in a way nothing else can

Your hands find the soap dispenser, letting out a sigh in relief that it was actually filled. Rubbing the soap between your fingers started like any other, but slowly your movements got rougher, trying to remove something you couldn’t see.

Him

Your brain still couldn’t understand it, process it, everything was fine, there were no signs, everything…was…fine…

“Shit” you wince shaking your hand after accidently punching the metal bowl

Holding your hand for a second you groan, breathing out through your nose and closing your eyes, before opening them and beginning to rinse. You felt so lied to, so violated, used, yet somehow despite trying to do the opposite you still loved him. The guilt of doing such when he killed your friends was overwhelming when paired with the contrast of sheer sadness of knowing he was current rotting in a cell, all alone, on his birthdays of all days

Pulling some paper sheets from the holder you dry your hands, listening to the announcement as you feel the train slow down. Final stop before Cardiff.

You wished for solace knowing you were almost there but really you honestly had no idea where Remus was, no one did, Mary was trying to contact him yet there was no proof he was in wales at all. You were running on blind hope, practically fumes at this point but it was all you had.

Everything was gone, even your apartment that was now sullen with corrupted memories had been ripped apart by the Mistry in their ‘search’. Search being an excuse to destroy anything you owned, to ask you a million grilling questions you didn’t know the answers to until Moody had to force them to leave as they reached the point it was just pure cruelty

Taking a deep breath, you left the bathroom, sliding past those getting ready to exit the train but just as you were getting back to your seat you bumped into someone, hearing the man apologise

“Sorry darlin’”

Flashback – 1st September 1971

“Sorry darlin’”

Looking up from the ground you saw a boy with raven curls, big grey eyes wearing a sorry smile on his face as he kneels down

“You okay?” he asks and when you nod slowly he looks a little disheartened “You already know who I am don’t ya?”

You tilt your head confused “I don’t know anyone” you confess biting your lip

“No one?” it was his turn to look confused

“I got a letter in the post…are we really wizards?” you whisper the last part so innocently it makes the boys eyes sparkle

“You’re a muggleborn?” he wonders and you shrug unsure “Muggleborn means you were born in a muggle family; your parents don’t have magic” he explains and your dementor picks up

“Oh then yes” you nod quickly, sitting up a bit “My parents were so confused but then the more we thought about it, it kinda made sense” you say excited the shy nature from before dissipating in front of him

He smiles brightly “Make sense?” he questions intrigued

“One time this boy was bullying one of my cousins and for years I swore it was me that made him suddenly fall backwards into the lake” you tell him and he bursts out laughing, sounding so free you join him

“I think we’re going to be great friends then” he winks and your stomach flutters with something you wouldn’t understand until you were older “Why don’t you…” he’s cut off

“Get out of the way Black” you turn your head and look upwards, finding a boy with platinum hair who must have been a senior

His gaze is menacing on you as Sirius helps you stand up “Name” he asks sharply and you jump a little

“Y/n” you answer meekly

He rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh “Last name girl” he demands looking beyond annoyed

“Y/l/n” you reply even weaker than before

His eyes flick to the raven-haired boy, face morphing to disappointment “I suggest you stay away from this filth Black. Your family doesn’t need another Andromeda” he warns and with that he walks off, leaving you to shrink into yourself

“Andy’s the only one with a brain” you hear the boy mutter before turning back to you, hand tentatively taking yours “Don’t listen to him, he’s an arsehole. You aren’t filth, if anything your purer than any of us” he assures you

“Us?” your eyebrows furrow

“Purebloods…but that’s not important right now” he shakes his head “Let’s go find a seat” he nods beginning to walk away

“You aren’t going to leave me, right?” you ask glancing down the train in the direction that mean boy walked off now feeling his hand slip from yours

There’s no answer. As you turn back the young boy is gone, replaced by his older-self down the hall, looming, dressed in rags and laughing as he begins stalking towards you

You start backing away, progressively moving faster until you try to turn and fall to the ground…

End of Flashback

“Miss please move”

You head snaps up to the taller gentlemen, glancing around to see the entire train staring at you

Eyes widening you nod and stumbled sideways into your seat “Sorry” you apologise but you highly doubt he even heard it

The man looks at you in mild concern before quickly walking off of the train, other passengers doing something similar, returning to their papers, conversations and whatnot.

Your face felt warm, embarrassed that even your conscious self was struggling to escape him now

You shrugged off your jacket, letting it crumple behind your back as you checked your bags, making sure nothing was stolen as the lady had fallen asleep across from you. Your head then turned to the window, glazing over the crowd at the station but your focus is brought by one couple reuniting.

Your glad the train begins to move, and you begin busying yourself. Unzipping your backpack and digging out a cheap map you bought earlier. The rest of the journey was spent plotting your route, trying to find the nearest bus or train stations that could potentially get you there, even a hotel in case you failed to find him today

You knew roughly where Remus lived, he’d pointed it out to you himself on a map, but this was an old address, that of his parents’ house, and one you knew for a fact they didn’t live in anymore. It was a silly thing to just travel across the country like this, but you needed your best friend, and you just knew he was going to need you too. So as silly as the journey was, as much as the odds were against it, you had to try

“Rydyn ni nawr yn agosáu at ben y daith, Caerdydd. Gwnewch yn siŵr eich bod yn cymryd eich holl eiddo a chael diwrnod bendigedig”

That caught your attention, sure there had been other announcements but you were pretty sure that either you just suffered a minor stroke, or that was the man was speaking welsh

“Excuse me” you say to the lady across from you as she begins packing up “What did that day?”

She stops her movement “We’re now in Cardiff dear. The final stop” she informs and you nod “First time in wales?” she makes small talk for the first time as the train begins to slow

“Yeah” you admit, slipping your jacket back on along with a scarf

“Visiting someone?” she wonders as she gathers her bags, and you sling yours over your shoulder and fiddle with the handle of your suitcase

You bob your head, following behind her as she joins the small line of people waiting to get off “Yeah, something like that” you say, following her as you slowly make your way down the carriage to the door

She hums “Well I wish you luck” she says after you both step off the train “Take care of yourself dear”

“Ditto” you say giving her a small smile which she returns before heading off

You follow her and the rest of the crowd, assuming they would likely lead you towards some kind of exit. Eventually you enter an arched room, it was beautiful, as much as you liked London, Cardiff’s station was nicer, quainter. You glanced over to see a small shop, your stomach growling as you saw the small row of baked goods but that’s not why you entered the small space

Your fingers found the reason, a small smile gracing your face as you pick it up. Chocolate. Remus’ favourite brand, the one he always blabbed about and swore it was better than any wizard version. Your thumb slid over the paper packaging, eyes lingering on it before you turned and headed to the cashier

“This all for ya mam?” the young boy asks, he couldn’t have been more than a couple years your junior, but the war had made you feel so old so young

“Yeah” you nod, grabbing your wallet from your jacket pocket

He glances over the little book next to him, checking the pricing “That will be 30p” he smiles

Your fingers dig in to grab the change, handing it over to the boy who promptly takes it and sorts it in the register

“Thank you, mam, and have a nice day. You chose well” he tells you

You let out a singular chuckle, holding up the bar as you turn to leave “Thanks kid”

Walking away you tuck the bar into the outer pocket of your backpack then head out of the main exit. It took longer than you cared to admit to find a bus station that took you to Remus’ home town, mostly because you didn’t realise a lot of the towns were written in welsh first, a mistake you should have predicted as you and James did the same thing back in the day when you visited Inverness

The bus was nothing special, but it was quiet and a smooth ride, the scenery however, that was something. As you headed north and out of Cardiff it grew so beautiful, and you were in awe as you saw mountains looming in the distance. Hogwarts and the highlands were wonderful in a wild kind of way, but Wales was magical all on its own, a sight if you were honest was one you’d happily look at forever

“Little lady?” the driver calls out, drawing your attention “This is your stop” he smiles, and continued to as you gathered your things, not one person on the bus annoyed at you taking your time…guess that’s country living for ya

“Thank you” you say as you get off the bus, waving to him as it sets off again

Dragging your bags to the inner section of the path you take out the letter, ready to ask someone how to get to it since your map didn’t have the lower classed streets and roads recorded on it

“Do you know the way to this address” you ask a woman who must have been around your age passing by but she blanks you, going so far as to turn her nose up at your appearance “Thanks for nothing” you mutter as she continues on her merry bitch of a way

Perhaps there��re still arseholes in the country too

You looked down at yourself, you knew you looked a state but if people only knew what had been raging on in the background all these years they’d thing you looked surprising well given the circumstances

Looking around you spot another person around the same age as yourself, attire similar to your friend…merlin probably an exact copy, only difference was his complexion, that similar to another dear friend

“Excuse me!” you call out

The man stops in his tracks, looking at you then behind him before pointing to himself “You taking to me missy?” he says a little amused

“Yeah” you nod, walking up to him and holding out the bit of paper “Do you know how to get here?” you ask, letting hope fill you just a little as you have a good feeling about him

We also had a good feeling…no! stop it!

You push down the sinking feeling to watch the man’s reaction, head tilting as his eyebrows furrow a second before he looks back up at you with a smile

“This is little ways west of here, kinda in the middle of nowhere but I can give you a lift” he points his thumb behind him

You lean to the side, looking behind him to see an older beaten land rover and you eye him “You aren’t an axe murderer, right?” you check causing him to laugh

“No not an axe murderer…that’s to messy. I prefer strangling ya see” he motions in the air “Much more intimate” he tells you voice flooded with sarcasm

You actually giggle

“You’re silly” you comment, he really did remind you of Remus, but also of James…that was definitely a James kind of joke

“Thank you” he smiles, taking it as a compliment “So, you want that lift?” he confirms and begins walking as you nod

He opens boot, allowing you to put your bags in before leading you around to the passenger side

“Your carriage milady” he opens the door and you can’t stop the giggle again as you climb in, still smiling lightly as he climbs in the driver’s seat “I’m Cillian by the way, Cillian McConnell” he introduces himself

“And I thought you’d be the welsh strangler” you jest and he chuckles turning on the engine “I’m y/n…wait” you stop yourself, registering the last name “You don’t happen to have a brother called Alex, would ya?”

His eyes light up “Yeah I do! You know him?” he wonders, pushing the gear into first but doesn’t take his foot off the clutch just yet

“Yeah, we went to school together” you tell him, unsure if he was aware of his brothers magic or was happy about it, although he didn’t strike you as a Petunia

“Oh” he eyes you a little differently but not in a bad way “So your…” he waves his hands in small circles and wiggles his fingers

You chuckle “Yes I’m…” you copy his movements

He nods impressed “That’s pretty neat” he turns back to the road, checking his mirror before pulling away “The house is less than 10 minutes away”

“Cool” you hum “Cillian. Alex, is he?” you insinuate, from his reaction earlier you feel you know the answer yet you still had to ask

He glances at you “Yeah, he’s fine” he lets you know and you relax in the seat “He doesn’t really talk about it. All he told me was it was over now, so…if you don’t want to answer i-it’s fine” he makes sure

“It’s okay” you say even if it isn’t, only agreeing as he wouldn’t know the complete details and was unlikely to ask about him

“Did you lose anyone?” he inquires softly, flicking the indicator as you slow to a small T-junction

You nod “Almost everyone…in…in some sense of the word” you tell him sadly remembering the fate of Alice and Frank, and earning a similar look back from him before he turns the car

“I can’t even begin to imagine. Just the idea of losing Alex destroyed me” he confesses “I’m so sorry” he says genuinely and you realise on a rather gloomy note that he’s been the first to actually say that to you

“Thank you”

He gives you a small smile “So, who are you looking for?” he wonders “Old friend, boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Old friend” you clarify “He doesn’t know our friends are…well” you take a breath

“You don’t have to say it” he assures you

You give him a thankful look as his eyes meet yours just before he turns onto a track road

“He’ll need me” is all you say

“And you’ll need him?” he states with a small smile you return nodding “The cottage it just up here by the way” he points up the hill

You lean you head forward to look, catching glimpse of a small cottage, a little worn down but pretty none the less. There was a field surrounding it leading down to dense forestry, Cillian was right it was in the middle of nowhere, yet nowhere was perfect for someone with your friends’ condition

The car slowly comes to a stop

You turn back to Cillian to find him pulling up the handbrake and setting the car into neutral “I can’t take us any closer in this but I can help carry your bags if you want?” he offers but you shake your head

“It’s alright, it’s no trouble…besides I’m…” you do the weird gesture again “…remember?” you giggle a little and he chuckles

You then hop out of the car, grabbing your stuff from the boot before returning to the window he and already leaned over to roll down

“I guess this is it missy” he smiles, still leaning over the gearbox

“Guess it is” you nod “Thank you welsh strangler”

He chuckles “You’re welcome mystery girl” he wiggles his fingers again and throws you a wink

You take a step back, giving Cillian a wave as he turns the trunk around and heads back down the track. As his car shrinks into the woodland you turn your sights to cottage, heart picking up just a bit as you see smoke climbing from the chimney

Gripping your bag and suitcase tighter you make your way up the overgrown cobble path, cursing a little as your ankle catches a jaggy nettle yet the pain is forgotten as you draw closer

“Please be in there moony” you whisper reaching the front door

You swing your case next to you, pushing down the handle before taking a deep breath and knocking. You wait a couple of moments before knocking a little louder, hope fading as there is no answer

Please, you knock again

“Remus!” you call out, tears beginning well and fall as your head leans on the door “Please” you shakily plead

You were ready to collapse to your knees when you heard the distant patter of footsteps approaching, followed by the rattling of locks and jangle of keys. Your head lifts, watching as the door opens to reveal your friend, fulling crying, pale and looking just as broken as you do

“Y/n?” he breaths out, blinking in disbelief

Mary had called him last night, explaining everything that happened and he hadn’t been able to stop crying since. James and Lily were dead. Peter was dead. And he was responsible for it all. He honestly didn’t want to believe it, hoped there was some mistake but seeing you now only confirmed the worst

Letting out sob you drop your bag from your shoulder and launch yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly. It doesn’t take long for him to do the same, arms moving to hold to you closely as you both begin to slowly sink to the floor.

Neither of you say anything for the longest time, just embrace each other as you cried your hearts out.

Remus was the first to pull himself somewhat together, his eyes drifting to the still open door, along with your suitcase and bag. He looked down at your sobbing figure and his heart broke all over again. He may have felt betrayed by him, but his betrayal of you was on a whole other level, you and he had a love story that rivalled Lily and James, and even now Remus highly doubted that he was faking his affections towards you all those years

“Moony?” he hears you say so quietly, voice hoarse

He brings your head out to look at him “Yeah bugs” he uses your old nickname as well, the two of you finding comfort in them

“Can I…” you sniff looking back at your bags, you press your hands to your face briefly wiping the tears before looking back at him “Ca-” you can hardly speak

“Course bugs” he understands what you’re asking, kissing your forehead

Remus slowly stands up, still achy from the moon but the physical pain was nothing to his emotional wounds. He picks up your bags and brings them in, closing the door behind him and locking it up once more. He didn’t think twice about letting you stay. He didn’t want to be alone…he needed you just as much as you needed him

You just stayed on the floor, no more tears to cry so you just looked around his home, it was a little messy but it was homely, smelt of chocolate, books, smoke…just like Remus.

“Bugs” he continues to use the nickname, reminding you both of a better time

You look up at him then his extended hands, taking a moment before you accept them, letting him pull you to your feet. Neither speaking as he leads you over to his dining table, his rough hand never leaving yours until he sits you down

“Are you hungry?” he asks but you shake your head “Bugs when was the last time you ate?” he kneels down, hands running up and down your legs soothingly

You shrug “Barley…Couldn’t keep anything down after…Lily and James…when S-he…” you can’t say it, you couldn’t bear to use his name hand reaching out to find Remus’

He takes it softly into his larger one, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles

“I’m going to make us some food okay?” he tells you and you pout nodding “It’ll make you feel better” he assures you

Your lips tug up holding out your hand in a ‘gimmie’ motion and he tilts his head

“You can’t say your catchphrase and not give me some” you explain seeing his eyes light up briefly

He chuckles, going into his pocket and taking out some but as you go to take it he holds it back “You’ll get this when you eat dinner” he eyes you

You give him a glare “You’re mean”

“I am but your stomach will thank me later” he kisses your forehead “Nice try” he chuckles swatting your hand as you try to swipe it

You huff as he moves away, but for the first-time things felt normal.

Shifting around you lean on the table watching Remus as he made food, chin resting on your crossed arms “How did you find out?” you say after a few minutes

He glances back “Mary called” he replies turning on the stove and moving over to sit next you as he waits on it boiling “You?” he wonders

“Ministry showed up at my door…looking for…” you lift your head up to see him looking at you sadly “They destroyed the place as they searched everywhere…and just when they had violated my flat enough they kept asking me all these questions over and over…” you start to feel overwhelmed remembering “…I didn’t know the answers and they just wouldn’t stop Moony” you can’t finish but he is smart enough to know, moving his hand out to cup yours, thumb running over your knuckles

“Hey” he coos “Why don’t we just…” he shakes his head “…just pretend for a moment. We can talk about all this tomorrow or next week” he lets out an empty laugh

“Or next year” you mutter through the tears

“Or never” he chuckles as do you “Go unpack your stuff, I’m sure there is room in my closet, and put on something comfy. I’ll make the food” he says, giving you a comforting look

You lift his hand up and kiss his knuckles “I missed you” you look him right in the eye

You really did, Remus was your closest friend, dare say your best friend after him. You used to be the one that healed his wounds, studied with him when the others wanted to skip, went with him to book stores…you hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now. You knew without Remus there was no hope in recovering

“Me too”

He felt the same way about you, he hated being alone…which he knew was beyond ironic from his self-isolation but he did. He used to feel so guilty about you and the others helping him but now all he wanted was to go back. Go back to the days before everything fell apart, before his whole world was shattered into pieces. And he knew much like you that although your lives where shattered you and he could rebuild together.

“Miss yourself?” you say cheekily

His eyes brighten a bit “I’m glad your terrible humour is still intact” he teases and you stick your tongue out weakly, he then stands up “Go get changed bugs” he orders you oh so lightly

You give him a small smile before walking over to grab your bags. You take them into Remus’ bedroom, hoisting the case onto his bed and your backpack somewhere next to it. Unzipping the case, you begin to pull out your very crumpled and shit-ily packed clothes…soon realising you didn’t bring anything matching, nor did you bring underwear.

Merlin your life was in tatters if you couldn’t even remember your knickers.

Sighing you decided to deal with the later, folding your clothes lazily and stuffing them into a spare drawer. After unpacking you slipped the case under his bed and went over to his dresser again, opening his top one. Your clothes all still smelt of him so you decided wearing Remus’ may help you from breaking down for the merlin knows what time today.

After slipping on a pair of Remus’ boxers and grabbing one of the soft oversized jumpers he always wore after full moons since they gave extra room and were kind to his scars, you walked back through to the small kitchen

“Sauce or no sauce?” he asks draining the pasta

“No sauce, less effort” you answer sitting down, beginning to feel the lack of real sleep and the journey hitting you, letting your arms and head slump onto the table

He smiles a little, there was something nice about you both interacting again. It was surprisingly easy to slip back into conversation, have that dusting of humour you always sprinkled on even the worst of situations…and given the last few days it really didn’t get worse than this

He splits the food into two bowls, giving you that little bit extra, but as he turns around he’s met with you, asleep, cheek cutely squished against your hand. He places the bowls down then lifts you into his arms.

As he carries you through to the bedroom he feels your nose nudge into his chest “You’re so brave bugs” he whispers softly placing you down on his messily made bed

He moves to the opposite side and lifts open the covers, shifting you over and tugging you in. Once your wrapped up he runs his fingers over the edge of your hair line “Sleep tight” he says, going to grab a pillow for sleeping on the couch later before leaving the room

Coming back into the kitchen he chucked the pillow over onto the couch, missing it completely and having to run over and catch a vase before it rolled off the side table

“Thank merlin” he takes some breaths to calm himself, clutching the vase to his chest like he was going to lose it

To most it was a cheap vase you could get anywhere, even his mother who this once belonged to wouldn’t be angry at it breaking, but to Remus in his current state it was priceless. He couldn’t lose anything else after losing so much, he wouldn’t lose this vase and he wouldn’t lose you

After five…to twenty minutes of weirdly holding that ornament Remus snapped out of it, placing it back on the table and walking over to the kitchen cupboards. He racked through them for some tupperware quietly, although he was sure you were going to be fast asleep still morning he didn’t want to risk waking you.

He then placed the pasta in it for you both to eat tomorrow. Remus could have charmed it easily but he couldn’t bring himself to use magic anymore, and he didn’t think he would for a long time

Placing it the fridge he walked over and sat on the couch, picking up the pillow and letting it sit over his lap, hugging it ever so slightly. His eyes drifted over to the bedroom where he could see your sleeping figure through the crack in the door. He had questions, it was only natural for him to, but he also knew you wouldn’t be any mind to answer them right now, maybe ever.

If his heart could ache more it would have, Remus had felt physical pain his whole life, mental anguish from his condition, self-deprecation, but this, this was the lowest, the worst pain he had ever felt. Lily was one of his closest friends, he loved her dearly, she was kind, sweet, flawed yet in the best ways. James was like a brother, a chaotic one who convinced him to come out of his shell and so many…so many stupid things, but also the one that praised him for having the best ideas, and was loyal to a fault. Peter was more like his little brother, sweet and soft spoken, had insecurities that paralleled his and they helped each other through them.

And then there was you, his best friend. He may have once held the title, maybe more than that in title at one point but you were…well you.

You were the one that made him laugh, the one he could be silly around, the one who healed his wounds and supported him even in his lowest moments, moments he wasn’t proud of, moments not even the others knew because it would change their perceptions forever.

Most of his friends may have been gone but you weren’t, in fact you had travelled across the country to ensure it, meaning he could still save you, when really, you would be saving each other

Remus lifted the pillow and placed it at the end of the couch, laying down he could still just about see you. His brief moment of insight or clarity, or whatever this was wouldn’t last. The lightness would disappear at some given moment and it would start all over again, in a cycle which wouldn’t be ending any time soon

But at least he wasn’t alone in it anymore, and maybe one day it might just get better a little better if he just took it take one day at a time

Thank you for reading and let me know if you want tagged in the series ♡

@mrsgweasley @zmxchs @moony1-960 @violetsandroses8 @pega7sus @pussy-drunk @thecraziestcrayon

#remus lupin and reader #remus lupin and you #remus lupin and y/n #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #young remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus and reader #remus and y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #sirius black #marauders #marauders era #one day at a time

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yuniemaki · 7 days

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tagged by @cadriona you have all my love and undying support, even should i become an undead i will come back to bang on your doors so you'll finish your UNFINISHED WORKS.

how many works do you have on ao3?

39, I don't know what are anon'ed works, lalala

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

492,719

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Genshin... once upon a time in the ff.net days I wrote for Dragon Age, Claymore, Air Gear and Skyrim/Oblivion too, but these days a certain lesbian couple from Genshin lives rent-free in my head, y'know?

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

BY KUDOS??? 😭 1. Dancing in circles 2. Trust in the stars 3. a gift from the stars 4. Welcome back, my Captain 5. Even if it's selfish, I still want you to stay

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes I love all comments they make me squeal because wow someone found my shit in a sea of food and went, "damn I'm gonna talk to the person who pooped this shit out!" I'm honoured. Work sometimes makes me slow but I read every comment and spend way too long thinking about how I should respond HELP

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I... I don't do angsty endings... there is a fic with one, but it's currently locked because it's for a zine. I'll share when it's out :P

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

THAT'S EVERYTHING HELLO. ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING MY BELOVED

8. do you get hate on fics?

probably, but I don't see it, so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

you do not ask yunie what smut she writes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i hardly write crossovers... it's enough trouble to make sure my ideas are potentially canon-compliant, nevermind making sure they could be accepted as canon for TWO universes. I wrote one for Skyrim x Genshin though. beiguang but dark brotherhood x pirate. :D

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

naur i'm not that amazing

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

sadly nope tho i would be honoured

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, i've done that plenty in classes and am honestly not a fan, but i'm sure it works for people who are very in-tune!

14. what's your all time favourite ship?

beiguang. my beloved. they pulled out 500k words from me and still counting after a 10-year hiatus. amazing

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

one that's been sitting in the pile for a while... about ningguang faking her death and beidou finding out like a year later. no, i don't have anything beyond that line :(

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i write dialogue pretty well

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i'm often too lazy to edit, and i slack a lot on descriptions because... yeah, i'm too lazy for my own good. :/ i can also get really impatient with longer fics like i'll get angry that i'm not at the scene i really want to write, count the number of chapters i still have to do to reach there, then close the doc in rage.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't really like it, because it's kinda immersion-breaking for me. i prefer to write it all in english but state that the character is speaking in xxx language instead

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Claymore, with OCs!

20. favorite fic you've written?

beiguang mafia au with their version of a happy ending. I love my beiguang twisted, obsessive and somewhat toxic

tagging @canonical-transformation, @aurilium, @mireillexy, @dreamerinsilico @asharinhun, @narcoticwriter and anyone else who wants to answer! OPEN TAG!

#writing games

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cookinguptales · 8 months

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Sigh... Okay. I've had a couple weeks away from wwdits and I've finished the major work project that has Consumed Me so I guess I can talk about my thoughts a little bit.

There are a lot of reasons that the very end of s5 bothered the hell out of me and a lot of reasons that I hate it. There are things I liked about the last two episodes (most of them being... before the last ten minutes of the season) like that metaphor coming full circle and Nandor giving Guillermo a better (uhhh metaphorical) sexual experience where he was listened to, cared for, supported, and helped along at his own pace. I do have interest in ideas like Nandor's loneliness being worsened because he believed that Guillermo would have a terrible time as a vampire and knowing that avenue of immortality is closed to him. But none of that feels worth it, I guess, and here's why.

Yes, I hated the whole... Guillermo realized that he never really wanted to be a vampire thing, at least how it was done. It wasn't Guillermo realizing that he didn't need vampirism (which I would've been quite happy with) but learning that he just didn't have the stomach for it. I hated the way that seemed to betray Guillermo's earlier characterization. I hated the way that made the "supernatural as queer, as Other" metaphors they've been using with very little subtlety suddenly feel very problematic indeed. I hated the way this made it canon that Guillermo really does see vampiric lives as lesser than human ones, and I hated that Guillermo had power taken from him rather than power claimed. I hated the way this upset the power dynamics of the household (particularly Nandor going back to ordering Guillermo around) and I hated the idea that Nandor thought Guillermo was weak and he was right. I hated this somewhat paternalistic idea that Nandor really did know best all along and Guillermo was just a silly little boy who didn't understand what he really wanted. Again, the power dynamics are so thoroughly fucked right now.

But the biggest thing, really, and the reason why I just can't bring myself to care about about the things I did like, was that it just... The message was so clearly that past episodes of the show did not matter. I always knew that there was a vibe change after Jemaine Clement left (especially because that vibe very much traveled to WP instead) but there was always enough dedication to the fundamental building blocks of the series that I didn't mind the way things had changed too much. But... this season really seemed to hammer home that they do not feel beholden to the first two seasons of the show and I liked those seasons.

I remember feeling kind of uneasy when little pieces of canon were discarded, like the way that it was stately clearly and repeatedly that Laszlo was better at hypnosis than Nandor in the first two seasons and then it was the opposite in s5. But like... I could forgive small changes like that. Little retcons. Guillermo, though. Guillermo.

I have never loved Guillermo more than I did at the end of s2, and I'm not sure we're ever going to see that version of him again. We got to see Guillermo go gloriously feral several times in s2, we got to see him kill an entire room full of people several times, we got to see him take his power and own it. And he really has never done it since, has he? He always tries so hard not to kill people, and the very few times he's done it since s2, it's been entirely in self-defense. And I just kept thinking it didn't have room in the plot, but they'd do it! Of course they'd do it! But then to have Guillermo straight-up say he doesn't have the stomach for killing... It made me realize that they'd brought Guillermo to heel as a conscious choice. They'd purposefully neutered his character, and in doing so, reduced the complexity of him that I'd always loved. Guillermo has always been a sweetheart and a murderer, and I loved that about him.

And then... you know, you have to come to wonder what other intrinsic parts of characters, intrinsic themes, they're going to feel okay with discarding when they feel like it. If they're going to retcon Guillermo, who was borderline sociopathic in the first two seasons (just look at how angry he was they didn't kill Jenna after he brought her to them), as a weak, naive familiar who really doesn't have the stomach to be a vampire... Like he wasn't paying attention at all for the last 13 years?? Like none of his choices were real or mattered? What the fuck? That's a major change.

And then you look back at the rest of s5, at Laszlo's entire storyline of "I'm going to do experiments on Guillermo to figure out how to 'cure' him so Nandor can turn him", and you realize they didn't even have that cohesion within the same season. Laszlo's entire season-long plot line makes zero sense once it's revealed that they knew (somehow) that killing Guillermo's sire would revert him. Like -- forget that it goes against his knowledge level in s3, forget that it goes against his knowledge of how to finish Jenna's transformation in s1, it goes against his stated knowledge of things within the same damn season.

And if they're not going to care about those things, why should I? If they're going to ignore details, plot lines, characterization, hell, the overarching themes of their own show, why should I get invested in them? Why should I care about Nandor seeing Guillermo's baby pictures or the idea of Nandor's loneliness or the fact that Guillermo only decided not to kill that human after self-centeredly tying him to his own experiences?

What else am I going to get invested in that they're going to ignore? What other choices that characters make are going to be pointless later? What other storylines are going to be dropped after just one season?

I don't know. The whole thing makes me so damn tired. To see all of Guillermo's struggles with his sense of self, his sense of power, his sense of Otherness, be reduced to "actually he's too squeamish to drink blood because he doesn't have the heart to kill anyone" is so... I'm so frustrated, and it makes me not want to get invested in anything they make anymore.

I've been really struggling as a creator, because like... I always made fanworks for this show because I genuinely loved it, I genuinely loved the characters. I respected what they'd created. But now I just feel like I'm getting overly attached to something that's just going to keep hurting me and... where do I go from there? Do I start writing canon divergence fic? (Never thought I'd end up in a place where I wanted to ignore canon here but if they can do it, so can I.) Do I just pull back a little and force myself to be a more casual fan?

I've been part of fandoms that hurt me before and I don't... wanna do that again. lmao. When I left comics fandom I was like "as god as my witness, I'll never stay in a fandom that makes me unhappy again!"

And.... I'm unhappy. :(

idk man, I'm still kind of stewing in it. Getting into other canons has actually helped tremendously in removing the sting from it all, but how to proceed going forward... I guess I still don't know. I don't want to write anything right now, and I assume that'll change, but... I don't know. : /

#wwdits tag #I usually use the main tag for things like this for ease of finding/blocking but #I'm not going to bother putting it in the main tag #I feel like that won't actually benefit me #and so help me god if I start getting dicks in my inbox again I'm blocking on sight

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baldy-wan-kenobi · 27 days

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Okay, as promised, part 1 of my mech smut.

Here we go:

(Also, if you don't like, or you think it's cringe, you're right. It's cringe. I'm cringe.)

Part 2 here: (warning, there is some kinky shit and some non-con. Okay? You're all adults, act like it.)

It was a well known fact that pilots were freaks. Nobody quite knew where they’d picked up that bit of information, but they all knew it to be true nonetheless. So, when the crew of the FNV Demeter learned that their marine complement would soon be joined by two veteran pilots, no one knew what to expect. After all, getting a Pilot was a crapshoot, or so they’d heard. Some seemed like normal people, until they hopped into an 80-ton mech and blasted a whole platoon of insurgents to hell with one shot. Others were barely human, more like an empty shell that lived only to follow orders. In truth, nobody knew what to expect.

However, three days before the pilots were scheduled to arrive, Master Sergeant Harrison called all 80 marines under his command into the mustering hanger that they’d typically assemble in for deployment, despite the fact that the whole 9th fleet was on standby, awaiting orders from FleetCom.

“Listen up, Maggots!” the Sergeant called, shouting above the constant din of the hangar. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, we’ll be getting a couple of new additions to the crew at our next port of call. Big old metal ones, as a matter of fact.” The assembled men and women murmured their assent before the man continued. “At some point during your term of service, there may come a time when one of the pilots comes to you with a proposition for, shall we say, recreational activities.” his face took a dark turn then, as he looked each and every marine in the eye.

“Some of you, namely the very brave and the very stupid, may see this as a welcome opportunity. After all, who wouldn’t like to have a nice, slim little pilot in your bed.” the sergeant’s eyes were scanning now, gaze fixing itself on those most likely to ignore his advice. “After all, they look so small, so soft and ditzy. Anyone would jump at the chance to have a nice little doll instead of the same dirty sock, right?” Despite his call-and-response, nobody answered, either too ashamed or two awkward to say a word.

“I am forced, by FleetCom, to advise you against such action. These are highly-trained, highly-augmented war machines, most of whom see their mech as a better representation of themselves than their bodies. They are not docile, or weak, they are understimulated, because their bodies are acclimated to the sensory data of a 80 ton mech suit, and many use sex as a way to cope with that. So, while the pilots may seem like an easy way to score a cheap night of intimate company, I can guarantee you, your idea of sex and theirs differs wildly, and it will not end well for you. Are we clear?” As the assembled marines barked in the affirmative, the Sergeant dismissed them, knowing full well that most of them would dismiss his warning the instant a pilot started to rub up against them just right.

After all, he thought, rubbing the surgical scars on the back of his neck. It sure as hell didn’t stop you.

Phi-715 was getting bored. They had boarded the ship two weeks ago, Themself, Gamma-14, and their support crews, guided by the careful hand and calming voice of their Handlers. Now, however, the novelty of the ship was beginning to wear off. Their augments were begging for stimulation, once they'd finished exploring the ship, poking their nose into every nook and cranny they weren't immediately shoved out of.

So, one day, they sent a message to Handler Barbara, asking if they could go down to the common areas of the ship, and socialize with the ship's crew. The ship wouldn’t be leaving for the front for another week, and 715 needed something to take the edge off or they were going to lose it.

Thanks to 715's Gen-Phi augments, they were far more normal and well adjusted than other mech pilots, with no need for sedation or stims when not in their body. Pilots with earlier, more crude augmentation, were often kept comatose in-between deployments, to minimize the risk of psychosis or self-harm, and even pilots like Gamma-14 were kept on a stimulant cocktail to keep them stable when separated from their other halves. This made them behave very oddly to those who didn't understand, who could never understand the thrill of rushing Mach 2 winds on their titanium frames, who would never know the bliss of becoming more than human, becoming a god of war, and laying waste to-

They cut themself off. After all, it would do them no good to get all worked up. Handler Barbara had specifically instructed them to not "break any of them, this time."

It wouldn't have been the first time, nor even the second. While they weren't as violent in sex as someone like 14, they still had their needs, and they were definitely on the extreme side, for baselines. So, in this one instance, they decided to disobey their handler. After all, what was the harm in it, if they were careful with their partner? Handler Barbara might never even find out.

So, as they made their way down to the common rooms where the Marines spent their free time, they had the full intention of bringing one of them back to their room

And indeed, things were going exactly to plan. The moment they walked into the room, every person in the room fell silent. Phi knew they were attractive, to baselines. They carried an androgynous grace about them, all legs and slim waist, jaw too sharp and broad to be entirely feminine, but eyes too wide and curves too pronounced to be quite masculine. It helped, too, that their hair was always nothing more than a light fuzz clinging to their scalp, lending them an otherworldly appearance. Some described them as an angel, others as a living doll. There were very few immune to their charm, and they reveled in it. For a few moments, they simply stood in the door, letting anyone with an interest get a good look. Then, they strode to a plush-looking chair in the corner, gait loping like it belonged to a creature far larger and heavier than their pathetic form. Now, all they had to do was wait.

In the end, it only took about 20 minutes before one of the marines worked up the courage to approach them, but they were perhaps the longest 20 minutes of their life. While they sat in the comfortable chair, they were constantly in motion, bouncing a leg, pinching or scratching their arms, or otherwise trying to provide their mind with any sort of physical stimulus.

However, when the first Marine approached them, they couldn't have been happier. He was well built, but not too bulky, tall and lean, but not too gangly. Best of all, he looked like he thought he owned the world, which set their heart racing at once.

He staggered his way through some half-baked pickup line, but by the time he was halfway through, they had had enough. They grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing their lips into his, in something that could be called a kiss, if one was willing to accept a particularly violent definition of the term. When they pulled away, his eyes were blown wide, clearly not expecting the savagery with which 715 had met his advances.

They then stood on their tiptoes, whisperering a simple 'my room?' Into his ear, then, following his nod, drug him away, down the ship's corridors until they arrived at 715's plain, unmarked cabin.

The two were inside in moments, grabbing onto each other and groping in ever-more forceful ways, grinding into each other, searching for stimulation anywhere they could find it. However, 715 was impatient and horny, and they wanted him inside right now. So, in one movement, 715 ripped his trousers down the front, reaching into the man's underwear and fishing out the real prize. He wasn't particularly impressive, but to them, he was a feast at a starving man's table. At once they were at work, taking the man's cock into their throat as deep as they could, trying to choke themselves on it as the man let out a punched gasp as his knees buckled.

They didn't even notice, however, caught up in a haze of lust and stimulus, grabbing him by the hips and keeping him in place as their head bobbed up and down on his length, only letting go to guide the soldier’s hand into their short hair. He quickly caught the gist, grippong 715’s hair in his fist and dragging them up and down his cock. 715’s mind fogged as the soldier continued, using their throat like a cheap toy, like it was nothing more than a warm, wet hole to get him off, and 715 loved it. They let themselves go, drifted away and gave up control of themselves, choosing instead to ride the wave of sensation to its finish.

Above them, the soldier grunted out something. What, they weren't quite sure, but they knew what it meant. So, 715 snaked their arms around their partner's waist, planting their palms on the toned flesh of his lower back to pull the soldier's length as deep into their throat as they could, scraping their teeth along the way to push him over the edge, emptying himself down their throat with a desperate, strained groan. they drank him down eagerly, relishing in the pungent taste, while he convulsed in the throes of ecstasy above.

As the pulsing of the man’s length began to slow and fade, 715 pulled away, dragging their teeth along his cock until they released it with a filthy-sounding pop. The man fell backwards, knees buckling under him as he fell like dead weight onto their bed. All the better, thought 715, as they hauled themselves up, straddling the man’s hips and grinding down on him as they bit a crescent into the meat of the man’s shoulder. The man hissed, and they felt hands cupping their breasts as the man sucked a mark into their neck. Okay, they thought, Enough foreplay. I need to get stuffed, Now. As if the soldier could read their thoughts, he reached between their thighs to line himself up, prodding their soaking entrance with his swollen head. With barely a moment of pause, they began to sink, lowering their hips as-

Suddenly, an ear-splitting alarm shattered the frenzied intensity of the moment. The two met eyes, suddenly bringing both lovers into an immediate focus, the blaring klaxon destroying entirely their earlier mood of mindless lust. As the two separated, they donned their clothes with the practiced ease of those conditioned to be ready at any moment, hearing the captain’s voice crackle over the intercom with masked urgency.

“Men and women of the FNV Demeter: The dock is under attack, I repeat, the dock is under attack. Insurgent elements are attempting to destroy or disable all void-capable vessels berthed, and slaughter all Federation-aligned personnel. Marines, report to your Company Commanders and prepare to give them hell, Men-At-Arms, report to your MA’s, and prepare to repel boarders, and Pilots…” the captain paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Mobile Suit elements have been observed. Report to your handlers and remove the threat.” At that, a vicious smile overcame 715’s face. Finally, they thought, some action.

As they both rushed off to their destination, they spared little thought for what could have been, had the rebels not attacked. After all, it was pointless to think about such things, pointless to have such regrets, when every fight, every clash of steel and flesh, could be your last. So, as the Marine grabbed his weapon, following his brothers and sisters to a near-certain death, and 715 was once more integrated into their real body, the two of them were thinking much the same thing:

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

#smut #mechs #mechposting

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