Crossover - Cliffton/Meeting of Breccan & Finbar: Not So Divine: Chapter 1
This is a crossover fanfiction of my The Meeting of Breccan & Finbar and n3m3sis43's Cliffton universes.
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“Fucking - ” This circuit board. Fucking shocked me. Might have burned me. Can't concentrate. Don't know fucking why. Not that crazy fake god from the Splinternet. Know that much. Should be able to fix this shit. Fucking can't. Look up at the ceiling. Like the crazy fucker's just gonna appear from nowhere. Give up on the the circuit board. Lean against the wall.
The air doesn't fucking feel right in here. Must be the the wonky ventilation. That's got to be it. Air feels fucking weird. Like I'm being watched. Why'd I think that? Nobody's fucking watching me. Keep it together, dude. I look up at the ceiling again. Nothing's fucking there. I remember that crazy fake god's purple eyes. Fucking why?
So your name is Devin, is it?
The fuck? Definitely need to fix the fucking ventilation. It's making my heart race. Yeah, the wonky ventilation.
You can hear me, can't you?
Gotta fucking ignore that. Some of the chemicals I use can cause weird thoughts, right? Because of the wonky ventilation. Should get the fuck out of here. I head towards the door. Chest is tight for no fucking reason.
Oh no, you're not leaving until you learn to show me the proper respect.
The fuck? I think.
Put my hand on the doorknob. Something fucking grabs my wrist. Feel a weird shock. Fucking warm. My heart pounds. Gotta get out here. I try to open the door. That force pulls me backwards. Stumble as I'm fucking turned around.
My heart fucking stops. It's him. The crazy fake god. The fuck?
He says, “See? I am real.”
Not fucking real. Not fucking real. I try to jerk my hand away. Gotta get out of here. The ventilation's more fucked than I thought.
I hiss, “Not fucking real.”
Crazy fake god raises an eyebrow. “Oh, want me to prove it?”
Heart's fucking racing now with the way he's looking at me. Can't be real. No way can he fucking prove he's real - he's not.
“Sure, prove it, fucker,” I challenge.
No way he can, right? I can get fucking out of here - and fix the wonky ventilation.
He pulls me towards him. Too fucking close. Our faces are inches apart. The crazy fake god kisses me. Fuck. A feeling like fucking lightning goes through me. That's - fucking real. My heart pounds harder. I let him kiss me. Soon, he pulls away. Leaves me panting, my breathing fucking ragged.
He asks, “Still think I'm not real? And if I'm going to be teaching you to have the proper respect, you can call me Egan.”
“Respect?” I spit. “Why should I fucking respect you?”
“Because I am, after all, a god,” he says.
I glare at him. “Don't fucking know about that.”
“Could a mortal make you feel like this?”
Egan pulls me into another kiss. That fucking lightning shit again. Flows right through me. I kiss him back. Even use my fucking tongue. Heart keeps racing. Can barely fucking breathe. Egan uses his tongue, too. He pushes me against a wall.
He whispers in my ear, “You're going to learn your lesson.”
Bites down on my neck so hard I yelp. I may have moaned, too, a little.
Egan fucking laughs. “You liked that, didn't you?”
He bites down again. I yelp and nod. Egan kisses me. My heart fucking races the hardest it has yet. Feel an ache elsewhere, too. Can't help shivering when he slips his hand under my shirt. Breathing is fucking ragged now as he drags his nails along my back. I return the kiss with as much fucking force as I can. Want him bad, even if he's crazy.
I let Egan pull my shirt over my head. His weird purple eyes flash. Bites down on my collarbone so fucking hard. I writhe underneath him. Fuck. He kisses down my chest. Fucking knows what he's doing. Grazes me with his teeth. Breathing is difficult. Comes in little gasps. I'm aching so bad now.
That's nothing compared to when Egan pulls down my pants. Yeah, I'm hard enough it hurts. Already.
He purrs, “Wait just a moment.”
“Fucking wait?” I growl.
“You mortals are so impatient.” Egan grabs my arms and pins them to the wall.
Out of fucking nowhere, white light appears around my wrists. The fuck? Try moving my arms. Fucking can't. I ache even more now. Have to remind myself to breathe at all.
He murmurs, “Don't want you trying to run away or anything.”
I grumble, “Not gonna fucking run away.” Not when I'm this ready.
“Still, you can't be too safe,” Egan says, smirking.
He kneels down in front of me. Takes me in his mouth. I gasp. Guy may be crazy, but he knows what he's fucking doing. That ache gets worse as Egan sucks my cock. I arch my back, as much as I can when I'm pinned like this. Don't know how long I'll fucking last.
Egan bites down on me. I cry out. I fucking shiver. The pain makes it even better. Can't fucking breathe at all now. Feel I might die. Feels too fucking good.
He stops long enough to laugh. The fuck?
“Like the pain, do you?” he asks.
“Y-yes,” I manage.
“Hmm, that's good to know,” Egan says.
He stand up and grabs my length. Starts stroking me. I want his mouth again.
Fucker just laughs. Lets me go, too. “Don't know if I should suck you off anymore. You were going to come too fast, and mortals have such pesky refractory periods.”
I glare at him. “Again with the fucking 'god' bullshit?”
“Oh, it's not bullshit. I would think the magic bonds were proof enough of that.” Egan looks at me with this fucking “know it all” expression. Fucker.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
He fucking dances his fingers along my cock. Makes me ache so bad.
Egan murmurs, “If you want to come, you'll have to ask me for it.”
“No fucking way,” I growl.
“I suppose you don't need to come, then. It's not like orgasm is necessary for your physical health.”
Yes, it fucking is. A man has needs, okay?
I don't say anything. Won't fucking beg. Egan just smirks at me. Stops touching me at all. Then the fucker walks away, going over to one of my work tables. I've got unstable fucking chemicals on that thing.
“Don't touch my stuff!” I yell.
He raises a pefect eyebrow. I can't help admiring his fucking face. He says, “Well, I can't touch you if you won't beg, so I'll just have to touch your stuff to teach you respect.”
“How the fuck does that teach me respect? That shit's dangerous. Don't know what will happen if you mess with it,” I grumble.
“Don't worry about me. I'm immortal; your flimsy mortal technology can't harm me,” he says.
I won't fucking beg. I won't. But I can't fucking stand watching that crazy guy touch my stuff. He keeps at it, too. When he pours one beaker into another, I can't fucking take it anymore.
“You could have fucking killed me,” I shriek.
Egan is nonchalant. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is beg for me. It's not so difficult.”
Like hell it's not. I don't want to. I don't fucking want to. But what if he fucking does something that kills us? I don't believe he's an actual god. Don't wanna be responsible for any more death. Don't wanna fucking think about that, either.
He keeps looking at me, fucking smirking as he goes through my stuff.
I have fucking had it. “Please,” I whimper. Fucking whimper.
Egan turns back to me. “Please what?”
“Let me come,” I beg.
He grins. “See? Now, was that so hard?”
Yes it was, you fucker.
“Hmm, I am not feeling especially patient myself,” he says.
Really, dude? You seemed patient enough to go through my fucking stuff. Egan walks over to me. Undoes the “magic” bonds holding me to the wall. Somehow, he took off his fucking pants and boxers without my noticing. I kick off my shoes. Remove my socks.
With no chance to protest, Egan fucking grabs me. Lifts me up like I weigh nothing. Bends me forward over the worktable he was messing with. I'm facing down, my back to him. The fuck? This is not what I meant when I wanted him to stop fucking touching my stuff.
He leans over and whispers in my ear, “I'll just take you dry now.”
“My fucking stuff,” I growl.
“It will be fine, silly mortal,” he says.
Figure it's better just to go along with it. I grab the side of the table to brace myself. My other hand can't find purchase. Table's too fucking wide. Egan pushes into me. My stomach clenches when a beaker of something fucking falls over. Fuck.
Egan fucking pounds me. No mercy. Hurts like hell. Gotta admit, feels fucking amazing, especially as he grabs my shoulders and digs his nails into them. I moan as he thrusts. Moan even louder when he finds my spot. Stop fucking thinking about the stuff on my worktable. Can only think of what Egan is doing to me.
“Like that, you mortal whore?” Egan asks.
Can't fucking answer. Can't speak at all. The noises coming out of me aren't fucking human.
“Oh, you do like this, don't you? I can tell,” he purrs.
Gotta admit I do. Think I'm going to come soon, too. Want to come so fucking bad. Egan keeps pounding me. I'm at the edge. Hope I go over soon because it fucking hurts to be this close.
“Close, aren't you? Me too,” Egan says.
So fucking close. Gotta be soon. It has fucking gotta or I'll go crazy.
And then it fucking happens. I come harder than I ever have. Knock something else over as it happens. Hardly fucking notice. White light explodes behind my eyes. Can feel Egan come when I do. I could fucking swear we're blasted backwards with the force our orgasms. That's the last thing I remember before I fucking black out.
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written for 500themes prompt #317 - "Angels Among Us"
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“Fucking - ” This circuit board. Fucking shocked me. Might have burned me. Can't concentrate. Don't know fucking why. Not that crazy fake god from the Splinternet. Know that much. Should be able to fix this shit. Fucking can't. Look up at the ceiling. Like the crazy fucker's just gonna appear from nowhere. Give up on the the circuit board. Lean against the wall.
The air doesn't fucking feel right in here. Must be the the wonky ventilation. That's got to be it. Air feels fucking weird. Like I'm being watched. Why'd I think that? Nobody's fucking watching me. Keep it together, dude. I look up at the ceiling again. Nothing's fucking there. I remember that crazy fake god's purple eyes. Fucking why?
So your name is Devin, is it?
The fuck? Definitely need to fix the fucking ventilation. It's making my heart race. Yeah, the wonky ventilation.
You can hear me, can't you?
Gotta fucking ignore that. Some of the chemicals I use can cause weird thoughts, right? Because of the wonky ventilation. Should get the fuck out of here. I head towards the door. Chest is tight for no fucking reason.
Oh no, you're not leaving until you learn to show me the proper respect.
The fuck? I think.
Put my hand on the doorknob. Something fucking grabs my wrist. Feel a weird shock. Fucking warm. My heart pounds. Gotta get out here. I try to open the door. That force pulls me backwards. Stumble as I'm fucking turned around.
My heart fucking stops. It's him. The crazy fake god. The fuck?
He says, “See? I am real.”
Not fucking real. Not fucking real. I try to jerk my hand away. Gotta get out of here. The ventilation's more fucked than I thought.
I hiss, “Not fucking real.”
Crazy fake god raises an eyebrow. “Oh, want me to prove it?”
Heart's fucking racing now with the way he's looking at me. Can't be real. No way can he fucking prove he's real - he's not.
“Sure, prove it, fucker,” I challenge.
No way he can, right? I can get fucking out of here - and fix the wonky ventilation.
He pulls me towards him. Too fucking close. Our faces are inches apart. The crazy fake god kisses me. Fuck. A feeling like fucking lightning goes through me. That's - fucking real. My heart pounds harder. I let him kiss me. Soon, he pulls away. Leaves me panting, my breathing fucking ragged.
He asks, “Still think I'm not real? And if I'm going to be teaching you to have the proper respect, you can call me Egan.”
“Respect?” I spit. “Why should I fucking respect you?”
“Because I am, after all, a god,” he says.
I glare at him. “Don't fucking know about that.”
“Could a mortal make you feel like this?”
Egan pulls me into another kiss. That fucking lightning shit again. Flows right through me. I kiss him back. Even use my fucking tongue. Heart keeps racing. Can barely fucking breathe. Egan uses his tongue, too. He pushes me against a wall.
He whispers in my ear, “You're going to learn your lesson.”
Bites down on my neck so hard I yelp. I may have moaned, too, a little.
Egan fucking laughs. “You liked that, didn't you?”
He bites down again. I yelp and nod. Egan kisses me. My heart fucking races the hardest it has yet. Feel an ache elsewhere, too. Can't help shivering when he slips his hand under my shirt. Breathing is fucking ragged now as he drags his nails along my back. I return the kiss with as much fucking force as I can. Want him bad, even if he's crazy.
I let Egan pull my shirt over my head. His weird purple eyes flash. Bites down on my collarbone so fucking hard. I writhe underneath him. Fuck. He kisses down my chest. Fucking knows what he's doing. Grazes me with his teeth. Breathing is difficult. Comes in little gasps. I'm aching so bad now.
That's nothing compared to when Egan pulls down my pants. Yeah, I'm hard enough it hurts. Already.
He purrs, “Wait just a moment.”
“Fucking wait?” I growl.
“You mortals are so impatient.” Egan grabs my arms and pins them to the wall.
Out of fucking nowhere, white light appears around my wrists. The fuck? Try moving my arms. Fucking can't. I ache even more now. Have to remind myself to breathe at all.
He murmurs, “Don't want you trying to run away or anything.”
I grumble, “Not gonna fucking run away.” Not when I'm this ready.
“Still, you can't be too safe,” Egan says, smirking.
He kneels down in front of me. Takes me in his mouth. I gasp. Guy may be crazy, but he knows what he's fucking doing. That ache gets worse as Egan sucks my cock. I arch my back, as much as I can when I'm pinned like this. Don't know how long I'll fucking last.
Egan bites down on me. I cry out. I fucking shiver. The pain makes it even better. Can't fucking breathe at all now. Feel I might die. Feels too fucking good.
He stops long enough to laugh. The fuck?
“Like the pain, do you?” he asks.
“Y-yes,” I manage.
“Hmm, that's good to know,” Egan says.
He stand up and grabs my length. Starts stroking me. I want his mouth again.
Fucker just laughs. Lets me go, too. “Don't know if I should suck you off anymore. You were going to come too fast, and mortals have such pesky refractory periods.”
I glare at him. “Again with the fucking 'god' bullshit?”
“Oh, it's not bullshit. I would think the magic bonds were proof enough of that.” Egan looks at me with this fucking “know it all” expression. Fucker.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
He fucking dances his fingers along my cock. Makes me ache so bad.
Egan murmurs, “If you want to come, you'll have to ask me for it.”
“No fucking way,” I growl.
“I suppose you don't need to come, then. It's not like orgasm is necessary for your physical health.”
Yes, it fucking is. A man has needs, okay?
I don't say anything. Won't fucking beg. Egan just smirks at me. Stops touching me at all. Then the fucker walks away, going over to one of my work tables. I've got unstable fucking chemicals on that thing.
“Don't touch my stuff!” I yell.
He raises a pefect eyebrow. I can't help admiring his fucking face. He says, “Well, I can't touch you if you won't beg, so I'll just have to touch your stuff to teach you respect.”
“How the fuck does that teach me respect? That shit's dangerous. Don't know what will happen if you mess with it,” I grumble.
“Don't worry about me. I'm immortal; your flimsy mortal technology can't harm me,” he says.
I won't fucking beg. I won't. But I can't fucking stand watching that crazy guy touch my stuff. He keeps at it, too. When he pours one beaker into another, I can't fucking take it anymore.
“You could have fucking killed me,” I shriek.
Egan is nonchalant. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is beg for me. It's not so difficult.”
Like hell it's not. I don't want to. I don't fucking want to. But what if he fucking does something that kills us? I don't believe he's an actual god. Don't wanna be responsible for any more death. Don't wanna fucking think about that, either.
He keeps looking at me, fucking smirking as he goes through my stuff.
I have fucking had it. “Please,” I whimper. Fucking whimper.
Egan turns back to me. “Please what?”
“Let me come,” I beg.
He grins. “See? Now, was that so hard?”
Yes it was, you fucker.
“Hmm, I am not feeling especially patient myself,” he says.
Really, dude? You seemed patient enough to go through my fucking stuff. Egan walks over to me. Undoes the “magic” bonds holding me to the wall. Somehow, he took off his fucking pants and boxers without my noticing. I kick off my shoes. Remove my socks.
With no chance to protest, Egan fucking grabs me. Lifts me up like I weigh nothing. Bends me forward over the worktable he was messing with. I'm facing down, my back to him. The fuck? This is not what I meant when I wanted him to stop fucking touching my stuff.
He leans over and whispers in my ear, “I'll just take you dry now.”
“My fucking stuff,” I growl.
“It will be fine, silly mortal,” he says.
Figure it's better just to go along with it. I grab the side of the table to brace myself. My other hand can't find purchase. Table's too fucking wide. Egan pushes into me. My stomach clenches when a beaker of something fucking falls over. Fuck.
Egan fucking pounds me. No mercy. Hurts like hell. Gotta admit, feels fucking amazing, especially as he grabs my shoulders and digs his nails into them. I moan as he thrusts. Moan even louder when he finds my spot. Stop fucking thinking about the stuff on my worktable. Can only think of what Egan is doing to me.
“Like that, you mortal whore?” Egan asks.
Can't fucking answer. Can't speak at all. The noises coming out of me aren't fucking human.
“Oh, you do like this, don't you? I can tell,” he purrs.
Gotta admit I do. Think I'm going to come soon, too. Want to come so fucking bad. Egan keeps pounding me. I'm at the edge. Hope I go over soon because it fucking hurts to be this close.
“Close, aren't you? Me too,” Egan says.
So fucking close. Gotta be soon. It has fucking gotta or I'll go crazy.
And then it fucking happens. I come harder than I ever have. Knock something else over as it happens. Hardly fucking notice. White light explodes behind my eyes. Can feel Egan come when I do. I could fucking swear we're blasted backwards with the force our orgasms. That's the last thing I remember before I fucking black out.
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written for 500themes prompt #317 - "Angels Among Us"