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#so he can make whatever the fuck he wants with that arm
24kmar · 2 days
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 (T. DUNCAN, A. DONALDSON, P. ZWEIG)
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𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄
Apart of my fic "born stunna" and p2 to my fic "why you do the things you do"
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x fem! Reader, patrick zweig x fem! Reader, tashi duncan x fem! Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI,smut (edging, choking, bondage, being called a brat), angst, language, age gap (early 30's tashi, pat, and art early 20's reader) manipulative reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), sugar! Baby reader!, cheating, comfort sex with patrick and reader.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: y/n goes home after hanging out with patrick, to which tashi and art scold her. What happens when patrick decides he cant get enough and goes to her match the next day. Arising conflict. Enjoy!! 🎀🩷
THANK YOUU TO MY GIRL @doll-0f-flesh FOR HELPING ME OUT IMMENSELY
Y/n learned from a very young age that she could get whatever she wanted. Growing up the golden girl with daddies money. All she need to do was flash her million dollar smile and she was in. That didnt mean she didnt work hard. No, she worked harder. Why use a minimum of your abilites to get something when you can get anything.
She was smart, ambitious, power hungry, always wanting more. She was good at using things to her advantage. A rich scholar and outstanding tennis player. Tennis was almost everything. Playing since 13, getting a scholarship to stanford at 17, going pro by 19, getting signed to NIKE a year later, and being coached by one of the best tennis players by 21.
Tashi and art have been coaching her for 2 years. Her now being 23. The word failure wasnt in her dictionary. It wasnt win or lose, just win. And tashi loved that. Tashi also loved her. And so did art. They both found themselves falling in love with her 3 months into coaching. To which they decided to go on a limb and make her theirs.
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"Where the fuck were you" tashi spits out, walking towards y/n as she puts her keys on the counter.
"Taking a drive, i told you this before i left." Y/n rolls her eyes. "Dont roll your fucking eyes at me." Tashi says putting her finger in y/n's face. "When you said 'drive'" tashi airquotes "i didnt think you meant come home two fucking hours later! You have a fucking match tomorrow y/n!" tashi yells
Turning her head, y/n see's art leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a dissapointed look on his face.
"Were you with patrick?" Art speaks up, walking towards her. Now its tashi and art infront of her. By the she gives him, the answers clear. "You fuck him?" He asks, walking behind her. Moving her hair out of the way and placing slow kisses on her neck. He already knew she did. He just asked to mess with her. "Course you did" tashi scoffs, gripping y/n's jaw.
"You know whats gonna happen now right?" Tashi asks, recieving a nod from y/n.
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"Tashi please" y/n pleads, arms tied above her head. Tashi's strap hitting all the right places.
"Why'd you fuck him huh?" Tashi ask gripping her neck, though not enough to restrict any airflow. To be met with incoherent mumbles. Squeezing harder she asks again "fucking answer me" she gritts out, using her other hand to slap y/n's cheek. Not hard, just a tap.
"Mmm, cus y'were being mean" y/n babbles "bein too hard on me with tennis." She moans, getting closer to her climax.
"so you're telling me you did this cause you were being a whiny brat?" Tashi scoffs, pulling out. Ruining her orgasm for the second time tonight.
Letting out a pitiful whine y/n begs "tashi please, i just wanna cum" tears starting to brim. Turning her head to try another tactic. Locking eyes with art as he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. "Art" she whines, hoping he'll help tashi go easy on her.
"Nuh uh brat, hes not gonna help you" tashi spits, lining up her fake cock with y/ns entrance, slaming into her. Standing up, art walks over to the bed. Sitting behind y/n, pulling her to rest her back against his chest. Trying to lessen the blow, kissing her neck, fingers groping her front softly. The softness of his touch contrasting with the roughness of tashis.
It was gonna be a long night.
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𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀
Stepping out of the car, y/ns nerves are all over the place. She knows she cant lose. If she did, they would blame it on patrick and what happend yesterday. She would never hear the end of it.
Now here she is, stepping out of the locker room. Stretching and getting ready for the match to start. She doesnt see art or tash. But she knows they see her. She feels a weird presence. Like someones watching her. Turning to look behind her she sees...oh shit. Patrick.
Locking eyes with her he send i small wave and smile. Why the fuck was he here? Did he want tashi and art to kill him?
She couldnt let him throw her off her game. Not win or lose, just win.
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The match is almost over, y/n dominating the court. Walking her opponent like a dog.
"oh fuck no" tashi scoffs
"What? What happened?" Art asks, worried something happened with you.
"Patricks here" tashi shakes her head in disbelief "the fucking nerve on him".
Watching him get up to go to the bar, they stand up to follow. If he thought he was just gonna get away with this, he was sorely mistaken.
"Patrick" art calls out, him and tashi walking towards pat. "Why the fuck are you here" tashi narrows her eyes.
"Woah guys, dont get your panties in a twist" patrick chuckles "just here to support my girl" he smiles.
Oh no the fuck he didnt.
"you mean OUR girl" tashi spits "what on gods green fucking earth made you think you could go for her. None the less, come here."
"we already told you yesterday, dont ever try coming for her again. Are you trying to get us mad?" Art says
"Dont-" patrick begins, getting cut off by y/n
"Where the fuck have you guys been" y/n speaks, her words laced with venom "you missed my whole fucking game"
"We're handling something" tashi dismisses her
"Handling something, or being petty"
"Dont act like you didnt start this" tashi turns to y/n
"If i upset you then talk to me about it, dont scold me like a fucking child and pick a fight with patrick"
"Guys-" art tries to calm them down
"If you didnt act like one i wouldnt have to" tashi retorts
"you know what, fuck this." Y/n scoffs, reaching into her tennis bag "i hope you're happy to hear that i fucking won" she says, shoving her medal into tashis hands. "Dont even bother taking me home, im calling an uber" y/n turns around and walks away.
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Tashi and art felt like shit. The whole car ride home being completely silent. Tashi staring at the medal and art driving, thoughts swarming his head. When they got home, y/n was no where to be found. Her keys and car gone , everything else still there.
They called out her name, looking everywhere. They didnt think the fight couldve had affected her to the point where she just went MIA. Calling and texting her countless times. Only to be met with the call going straight to voicemail. Meaning one of two things, they were blocked or her phone was on airplane mode. Both bad scenarios since it meant she didnt want anything to do with them.
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The only one who knew where she was, was patrick. She didnt go far, just to some hotel. He was the only person she answered the phone to. She knew he wasnt the one who started it, since he explained what happend. Now here she was, crying into the bed as he rubbed her back soothingly.
He had never seen her cry, unless it was tears of pleasure or joy. Tears of pleasure when he made her feel good. And tears of joy when she won. It broke his heart.
Making her sit up, he cupped her face and spoke "what you thinking about pretty girl" he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Dont wanna talk about it" she sighs "can you just...hold me?" Without skipping a beat he pulled her into a hug and sooths her. This had been the most intimate moment theyve had.
"Just wanna forget" she sniffled
Moving to kiss her neck, he whispers "can i help you forget?"
Sighing, she nodded. She needed this, and he needed her to know that he was always there. Whether art and tashi wanted him to be or not.
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When tashi said patrick had no dreams she was wrong, soso wrong. Because he did have a dream. And it was y/n. She was all he wanted, all he needed.
She was arts star, tashis winner, and patricks dream.
His dream, his fantasy, his happily ever after.
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sassypossumm · 19 hours
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Mafia Boss!Miguel laying it down when he's jealous... [🔞MDNI]
This man definetly lays it down on you in the most primal, passionate of ways.
Mafia Boss!Miguel enjoys doggy, thrives off of it in fact. Especially when he's frustrated...
A jealous Mafia Boss!Miguel will not hesitate to leave whatever social engagement you're at in order to get you home and plow you into the mattress.
Oh, you didn't want to leave? Doesn't matter. Mafia Boss!Miguel just tosses you over his shoulder and carries you out without a second glance at anyone.
Mafia Boss!Miguel has you slammed up against a wall as soon as your penthouse door closes. You don't even make it to the bedroom before he's stripped you naked and fingered you to the edge twice.
But you don't get to cum...only good girls get to cum.
When you grumble in protest, Mafia Boss!Miguel slings you over his shoulder with a hissed comment about that sleazy cabrón he'd caught sliding his hand down your arm.
Mafia Boss!Miguel strides up the stairs and kicks in the bedroom door, sending splinters flying. He tosses you unceremoniously on the bed and begins angrily stripping.
Your pussy clenches at the feral gleam in his eyes, and that telltale prickly heat of desire flushes through your entire body. By the time he's crawling over you, you're rubbing your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to simulate the delicious friction that only came from that beautiful cock brushing against your thigh.
Mafia Boss!Miguel pauses only long enough to press a searing kiss to your lips, teasing your tongue with his, before pulling back and flipping you on all fours.
Mafia Boss!Miguel ignores your broken whine and spreads your thighs apart, denying your pussy any kind of stimulation. He sits up on his knees and spreads your folds slowly, and groans in approval as he watches your pussy grow wetter as it clenches around nothing.
Before you can even take a deep breath, he's pulled your hips back and slid into you in one agonizingly slow motion. You groan in unison. And he pauses long enough to press a kiss to your shoulder before sitting back on his knees and pushing your head into the pillows.
Mafia Boss!Miguel fucks you into the mattress without mercy, riding you like a river, his hips rolling and pivoting like the tides of the ocean.
Grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts, grunting and moaning, his hair growing damp and clinging to his forehead.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he slaps your ass raw and red, growling and grumbling.
"Who's a good whore?" He breathes hotly in your ear.
"Yeah, you like that?" He grunts, pulling you back to meet his hips roughly, his balls brushing against your overstimulated clit.
"Such a good whore...fuck...my good whore." He groans, folding himself over you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling your back impossibly close against his chest, molding your bodies together in an erotic bachata of pleasure.
"So tight baby..." He moans, nipping at your neck, groaning at your mewling. "Wanna cum baby?" He smiles at your earnest nod and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth and presses them to your sensitive clit.
"All you had to do was ask."
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hai7ani · 2 days
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haitani ran, gojo satoru, bakugou katsuki, shinazugawa sanemi, kuroo tetsuro, your faves
thinking about the salarymen who comes home to you after a really, really long day at work and all he wants to do is to just hold you and listen to whatever you are rambling on about and maybe kiss you a little. a lot. he wants to kiss you and kiss you and maybe fuck you both soft and hard in the shower...
but you refuse to let him do so while you're cooking and you tell him you absolutely cannot focus if he kisses you while you're at the stove. you keep slapping his face away when he comes too close so he does what he can with what he has. he drags a chair over from the dining table ー all the way to where you're standing at the stove cooking dinner, situates it behind you, sits down, and he just wraps his arms around your waist, buries his nose into your ass and just hugs you like that. kisses your back, inhales your scent like a dog and he reaches a sneaky hand over to the front to shove it into your panties when you're not paying attention. (he does make sure to wait until you're away from the stove, in case you burn yourself from his little antics.)
you kick him away then and he watches in amusement, in pure joy, as you nag his ear off and give him a horny ban for ten days. you tell him no sex until he learns to behave himself and he figures he can amuse you for a bit. lets you walk around the house with your chest stuck out, thinking that you win and your horny ban is final, doesn't fuss you when you're showering despite the burning desire to head into it with you and fucking you silly, even letting you go as far as to taunting him when you emerge from the shower all wet with nothing but his towel wrapped around your body. he doesn't make a move though, not even when you wiggle your eyebrows and throw the same towel to his face after getting dressed and he has to go hang it up himself because his self control is gooood. it's great.
not when he's sleepy though.
when it is time for bed he decides he can't take it anymore. yanks the comb away from your hands and throws you on the bed, hikes up your nightgown, and he eats you like it is his very last meal. fucks you like you're the only one that he loves. (you are the only one that he loves.) doesn't let you rest until he's had his fill and he listens with a prideful chest as you pant and moan and whine with no constraint at all. usually you'd still have the self control and remorse to keep your bliss down for a bit in fear of waking people up, but this time you don't. not at all. even moaning into his mouth when he hits that spot just right, arching your back prettily and driving him nuts when he flips you over. and perhaps this was what you wanted as well. you knew he fucked a lot better when he was stressed out, or whenever he was under your horny ban and just wants to slide in your warmth because the more you tell him no the more he wants to.
and you let him do whatever he wants with you until he's finally satisfied enough to go to sleep and he finally gets to kiss you on the lips then. it starts with a sweet peck until a full blown make-out session and you whine when you taste a bit of yourself on his tongue because it's embarrassing but he doesn't let you shy away into the covers.
"gonna eat you again in the morning. 's not enough."
perhaps you'll implement the horny ban a little more frequently... maybe...
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i dunno what this is honestly. just needed to get it out cus i had caffeine earlier in the day n was functioning on 110% of my usual self
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gatheringbones · 2 days
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[“Too many of us have chosen to live in sexually ambiguous, sexually boring, sexually dead lesbian relationships because it wasn't safe to talk about desire---desire for cock, desire for pussy, desire for leather, desire for diversity. Exploring my desire for men has led me in an interesting circle---back to my incredible passion for womyn. My queer world will have to stretch (again) to make room for my fantasies, and perhaps even an affair or two. It will have to stretch to make room for whatever I desire.
Finally I realize what I am so afraid of. I am afraid that men and penises have so much power in this heteropatriarchal world that simply desiring one can invalidate 25 years of deep womon-loving. I'm afraid that lesbianism is so fragile that it needs to be protected by an iron fence. I am afraid that by desiring a cock, I will be excommunicated, torn away from the world of womyn. I am afraid that if I allow myself to open, perhaps I will want more. This is why a lesbian wanting a man demands so much courage. Courage to stand outside of identity politics, to insist that our community grow to accept all of us.
My lesbianism is as sure and solid as the Himalayas, as predictable as the seasons and the phases of the moon, as familiar as a womon in my arms ("Wherever I go, there's one thing I know, I'm sure to have a womon around me"). My desire for men is as fleeting as good chocolate and ripe strawberries---not always available, sometimes bitter and disappointing, often intoxicating as nectar, somewhat allergic, and extremely tempting.
I can live with all these desires. I will not compromise myself again. Fitting in is less important than filling out. There is a revolution afoot, and it is stretching the parameters of the old gay life. The hundredth monkey. A friend says, "Oy, I'm not ready for this century." But she is. She is.
Just when I thought I'd made some sense of these desires for men and had come to peace with them, my ex-lover called. The butch who couldn't communicate and who could never fuck me right. She has something to share, something important, something very personal. She has decided to come out as a transgendered person---bi-gendered, s/he calls it. S/he has come to realize that s/he has both a male body and a female body. Hir language may be new, but the experience is familiar.
It was hir male body I always wanted. I'd called it butch. S/he says that when s/he is in hir male body s/he desires men; when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn. In other words, s/he's as queer as a $3 bill.
Suddenly, a fog begins to clear. If I desired hir male body and hir male body desires men, and when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn, then s/he must've wanted me womon to womon (or man to man?), while I wanted hir butch to femme (Dare I say, male to female?). Suddenly our sex problems become very clear.
I always felt hir switch. As I filled with desire, wanting hir hardness, her maleness, s/he would become soft, almost girly, and it was like someone pulled the plug on the bathtub, the desire leaked out of me, leaving me--us--empty.
This starts me thinking about the lover before hir. The one with the sweet curls in her hair, the big round belly, and the soft eyes. The kinky one, where anything goes. She loves my femme self, calls me bitch and desires to fell me with hardness, to force me into submission.
Somehow though, it never quite worked. I am beginning to see what went wrong. This one wanted butch/femme, boy/girl sex, and I wanted lezzie sex. I loved hir female body and wanted to touch her. S/he wanted to give me hir male body. When I tried to touch hir breasts, I was reminding hir that she was a womon and was therefore rejecting her power. The lover s/he picked after me identified as a heterosexual woman (although she too used to be a radical dyke). When my ex-lover told me this new lover wouldn't touch her (after all she did identify as straight), I thought, how terrible, such internalized homophobia. Now I am beginning to understand how, by ignoring the girl body, the boy could feel his power. It got old fast, but for a while it worked, fed the rejected boy place inside.
I began this piece saying I hadn't had a man in 15 years. I am beginning to suspect that I've had many men. They'd called themselves butches.
I suppose none of this makes sense if you just think about biological bodies. These girls definitely had female bodies, tits and ass, and oh, so lovely to touch. But there is no doubt that these womyn have also had dicks. I've never said this out loud before, because dick is a dirty lesbian word. But I have been filled by womyn's dicks, and no, they are not "just" dildos.”]
Lionheart, from wanting men, from genderqueer: voices beyond the binary, edited by Riki wilchins, 2002
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livwritesstuff · 11 hours
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this one is in honor of the 2-year anniversary of st4 (literally last week but my life is a whole whirlwind atm)
It occurs to Eddie one night as he’s putting his and Steve’s daughter to bed that it’s been twenty years since everything in Hawkins, Indiana went to shit (for him, anyway).
Not down to the day, obviously, but it’s mid-March of 2006 and, honestly, mid-March is the only calendrical detail he ever really retained (too preoccupied with the whole on the run thing to be paying attention to the date, which he thinks is fair enough).
It’s kinda crazy, when he thinks about it, because he really didn’t see himself coming out of those god-awful days alive to tell the tale. Here he is though, twenty years later, alive and truly well.
Steve beats him to bed that night (probably because he’d called dibs on their youngest, Robbie, that night, leaving Eddie to wrangle Moe – the difficult one of the pair when it came to bedtimes because, frankly, her ability to argue her way into extra stories is getting a little frightening), already sitting under the covers with a magazine by the time Eddie retires to their room.
Their room.
That’s one of those things Eddie wouldn’t have believed if he’d heard about it while he was bleeding out in the Upside Down twenty years ago. 
The Steve of it all really is the most improbable – that’s Eddie’s opinion anyway.
Surviving a swarm of hungry bat demons? No problem.
Bagging (i.e. marrying the fuck out of) Steve Harrington? Totally out of the question.
Here he is though, defying all the odds.
“You know what I realized?” Eddie asks as he climbs into bed beside Steve.
“Hmm,” Steve replies, not looking away from his magazine. His glasses are slipping a little as he reads, and Eddie reaches out to nudge them back up the bridge of his nose. The gesture has Steve raising his head to look at him.
“What’d you realize?” Steve asks.
“It’s been twenty years since all that shit in Hawkins.”
Steve’s gaze slides off somewhere behind Eddie for a moment.
“Shit, you’re right,” he says, “Crazy.”
“That’s what I said,” Eddie grins. Steve isn’t matching his expression though. Rather, he’s looking at him somewhat pensively, dark brown eyes roaming over his face.
“Hey,” Eddie says, because he gets it. They can make all the jokes they want about how wild that time was, but it doesn’t ever take away the horrible things they'd seen, the horrible things they'd been asked to do.
Eddie’s glad he survived and all, but people don’t always talk about how the after of surviving isn’t necessarily a walk in the park either.
He runs a hand through Steve’s hair, grazes the tips of his fingers over the barely-raised scars on his neck left behind from whatever went down at the Creel House in the Upside Down, “I love you, Steve.”
“Love you too,” Steve replies, gripping a hand tight around Eddie's thigh, "So much."
"So fucking much. Sucks we had to go through all that shit to get here, but...I'm glad we're here."
And Steve only nods as he wraps an arm around Eddie's shoulders to pull him in close.
"Yeah," he eventually says, pressing a firm kiss against the side of Eddie's head, "I'm glad we're here too."
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im a firm believer that carmy is best friends with your vibrator. using it on you or on him, doesnt matter. though, he will try to imitate it with his tongue (now bordering competition with the toy).
either way, he just loves making and seeing you cum <3
Bro SO sees a vibrator as competition. He’s not against them by any means, but he’s a competitive guy! He wants to know he made you cum without the help of anything else.
I mostly see him being into using vibrators for overstimulation purposes. Almost as a punishment of sorts. He’ll hold one of your vibrators to your clit and keep it there until you’re shaking, sobbing, and apologizing for whatever you did to upset him.
In another punishment type of scenario, he makes you use a vibrator in front of him until you cum “x” amount of times. He literally sits in front of you the entire time and doesn’t even move a finger to touch you or himself. He just coos and teases the hell out of you. All the while he’s so hard in his boxers.
“You can’t have me yet, baby. Gotta to make it to orgasm number four all by yourself first. You know that.”
“That feel good? Then why are you crying, sweetheart? Does it feel too good?”
“You poor thing. I can see you dripping from here. I’ll take care of you as long as you give yourself one more. Go on, turn it up a speed— that’s it. That’s my good girl.”
Once you hit the number he’s set, Carmy’s jumping up to take the vibrator away from you to turn it off. You practically collapse in his arms, legs shaking from overstimulation. His hands come up to wipe your still flowing tears away from your cheeks. “You did so good for me. I’m so proud of you, baby. Let’s be done for the night? Yeah? I don’t wanna do too much to you.”
Your finger tips clench around the hem of his shirt, knuckles turning white. “N-no! Please, Carm. Need it—need y-your cock.” You sobs start right back up again as you beg to Carmy. “P-please.”
“Shhh—calm down, sweet girl. Take a big deep breath in for me,” Carmy soothes, running his fingers through your hair. “Okay, my love, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll make it better, baby.”
Afterwards Carmy fucks you soft and slow, but despite his efforts you slip right into sub space. He will never complain about it though. The fact you feel safe enough with him to so easily go to that place makes his heart skip a beat.
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atzaurora · 1 day
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질투-jealousy
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
choose me over them
member: Yunho
pairing: fem!idol!reader x idol!yunho
type: imagine (smut)
warnings: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!
a/n: sorry for not posting a lot, but for all the Yunho stans, here you go 🤭 feel free to leave feedback and requests!
here's my masterlist!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Sign, talk, laugh. That's all you did the whole day basically. you guys had a huge fan sign and a lot of people came. all in all it was fun but you hated how they all looked at him.
Yunho has always been attractive in your eyes, but you never expected to actually catch feelings. well here you were, crushing over your own group member and having to look at him interact with all of those girls.
I mean you couldn't blame them, he was gorgeous so obviously they'd all fangirl over him. yet you could still not help yourself but feel jealous.
you tried your best continuing to sign the albums and chat with all the fans that came. every few seconds you found yourself glancing over at him, "having" to check what was going on.
he saw you. your glances burning holes into his skin. he knew those were looks of jealousy in your eyes. he didn't wanna be too bold tho. so he just sat there, continuing the convos, giving his best to ignore your behaviour.
---
"thank you all so much for coming! 8 makes one team! goodbye Atiny!" you all shouted into the microphone, walking off the stage, waving as you walked.
everyone was exhausted yet extremely thankful for the sweet interactions. "good job everyone" Seonghwa said, looking around happily. "let's go home guys and get some good rest" Hongjoong suggested, groaning as he lets himself fall back on the couch.
you nod "please, I'm tired" you mumble, avoiding Yunho's eye contact when he looks at you.
you can hear him chuckle to himself. "we need to talk." he whispers as he walks past you, outside of the building towards the car.
you look after him, grabbing your bags and walking after the members. what did Yunho want now?
---
the drive was awfully quiet, no one talked, Yeosang even fell asleep. but we were all tired so the silence was understandable.
we walk into our dorms, San practically carrying Yeosang inside, getting him straight to bed. "come on" Yunho nudges my arm, offering me a soft smile. you smile back, following him to his room.
"so..." you close the door, watching him as he sits on his bed "what did you wanna talk about?"
he chuckles, shaking his head "jealousy is not a good look on your pretty face, sweetheart"
you tilt your head, your eyebrows frowning "what's that supposed to mean?"
"oh come on, I could basically feel your eyes on me. don't try to act all innocent now. you were upset about all these girls wanting me." he says, his expression becoming a little more serious.
could you even talk myself out of this now? probably not. so you just say what you actually feel..."well I'm not thrilled about everyone staring at you, you know"
"I know, but why? you know I don't care about all those girls. I already know who i want." he stands up, walking closer
"what? Yunho, you're too tired to think, go to bed please." you walk a few steps back, shaking your head. he was out of it, no way he liked you back. out of all those girls. pretty girls.
"fuck no. I mean it, Y/n. I want you. no one else. only you" he whispers, sneaking his hand around your neck, moving your hair back.
whatever. you cup his cheeks. pulling him in. god it felt so right, his lips so soft.
the kisses started getting more passionate, more heated. he slipped his tongue in your mouth, tasting me. you groan as you feel him walk you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed.
he lays you down slowly, his gentle hands moving over your thighs. "you're so beautiful." he whispers as you feel him hook his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them.
Yunho's fingers slide under the fabric of your panties, you gasp, arching your back in anticipation.
he smirks against your skin before trailing hot kisses along your collarbone. he starts to lift up your top, revealing your stomach, ribs, bra...until your completely exposed.
he unclips your bra in a swift motion, tossing it were your jeans and top already laid.
he starts kissing you again, down your sternum, and finally reaching the hardened nipple of your breast. you moan loudly as he circles it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, suckling gently.
your mind goes blank from pleasure as he alternates between teasing and pleasuring you.
suddenly, he pulls away, causing you to whimper in protest. "god you're so eager" he laughs, smiling softly yet tempting. "i wanna feel you, baby" he whispers, close to your ear. "i want you so bad Yunho." you whimper, feeling his fingers grazing over your wet hole.
he stops after a bit, making you groan at the lack of contact, but he then starts undressing himself, taking off his shirt, jeans and then sliding his boxers down, revealing his impressively large erection.
without hesitation, he positions himself at your entrance "baby are you sure?" he asks for consent. once you nod eagerly he kisses you softly and pushes inside, filling you completely.
the sensation sends shockwaves through your entire being, it feels incredible. he was big, you were pretty sure you could feel him in your stomach but it felt good.
he starts moving, bucking his hips forward, pushing more and more inside you, hitting your good spot. "mhm~ right there, Yuyu. please don't stop" you moan, digging your fingers into his back.
he starts kissing your face, first your cheek then your jaw, down your neck and up again. the kisses were soft and gentle while his thrusts were firm and hard but very pleasurable.
"you're doing so well, love" he mumbles in between kisses. you clench around him, making him groan and bite down on your neck.
"are you close?" he asks, looking down at you, a mark now forming where he bit you. "y-yes~" you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip, clenching around his cock again.
it only takes another few thrusts till you see stars, while coming all over his dick. he kisses you softly as you cum, murmuring small words of appreciation and praises.
Yunho rides out your high and after a few more seconds you feel him fill you up, the liquid leaking out of you. "good job, darling" he kisses you again.
---
he pulls out, hugging you tightly and covering you with his blanket "sweetie, you did amazing, I'm gonna be right back to cuddle you to sleep" he smiles at you, so damn adorable.
you nod "it also felt amazing. don't take too long, i wanna cuddle you"
he walks out of the room, coming back after a minute, with your pjs and himself being dressed as well. "there you go" he hands you your clothes
"thanks, baby" you put everything on as he starts talking again "so um, i checked and the others are all sleeping so i think no one heard." he says. "good, i wouldn't wanna take care of that" you chuckle and he smiles as you open your arms for him.
moving under the blanket with you, he holds you tightly, kissing your forehead "get some rest now, my darling" he says quietly, stroking your hair.
you nod, closing your eyes, both of you whispering an 'i love you' before drifting off.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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myguumi · 2 days
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sweet disaster!
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synopsis; you attempt to bake for your boyfriend, but it doesnt exactly go as planned..
notes - gn!reader x satoru gojo :) "hun" used as a pet name once. i am genuinely SO ANXIOUS to post this. if u like it pls reblog or comment or whatever.. if u dont like it just come to my house and shoot me tbh
you had always known your boyfriend liked sweet things. the first time you had met satoru, he was munching on some sort of candy. his friends, students, everyone knew. so.. you wanted to try and be a good partner; attempting to bake something for him.
lord now knows you're terrible at baking, and you won't try again.
because it's your fourth try at baking cookies for him, and so far you've failed by forgetting the flour, not placing them further away on the pan causing them to stick together, burning them- you've done everything you could to fuck up these cookies.
you could just watch a tutorial. easy enough, right? well you've watched the same video over and over again, having the urge to punch your phone at the random males voice instructing you for what feels like the tenth time. you could call megumi? he could help. maybe.
a click at the door makes you freeze at the garbage can, having just thrown out your fourth- fifth batch of cookies? you've lost count. you hurriedly shut the garbage, trying to clean up the kitchen and yourself the most you can in only a few seconds, which isn't a lot, but why not try?
satoru shuffles in, looking around a bit for you, hearing you moving around and clinking stuff in the kitchen. "..hun, what're you doing?" he asks, walking over to the kitchen and staring you down as you stand next to the garbage, a complete mess, probably. you haven't had time to look at yourself, just an assumption from the way he's staring down at you and obviously trying not to laugh.
"..nothing at all!" you say, looking over at your boyfriend with a bubbly smile on your face to attempt to distract him from whatever you just threw out, and the burning smell coursing around the house. "you sure?" he questions, tilting his head a bit to the side. you nod, looking into his eyes- well, blindfold- with that same smile on your face. satoru giggles a bit at you, walking over to you.
"two questions. one, why does it smell like a house fire in here? and two, why are you trying so desperately to hide the trash?" he asks, looking down at you. you look up at him. "tried to bake for you, obviously didn't go as planned," you sigh. "stupid dude who's tutorial i was watching didn't make any sense." satoru lets out a small laugh, smiling down at you with that cheeky grin of his.
"you don't gotta bake me anything, you're enough yourself. plus, i don't want you burning down the house.." he mumbles, making you softly punch his arm. "in all seriousness tho, you could've called megumi. he's a pretty good baker, somewhat good of a cook. if you wanna learn how to bake, give him a call."
you nod, still smiling up at him. he leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips, leaning back up to stare back down at you. "please don't try baking again without someone else. it smelled like there was a fire, i thought you burned the house down. smelled like it, at least." satoru says, still looking down at you. you pout up at him, flicking his forehead.
made by myguumi; please dont alter my work or try and post as your own. reblogs are appreciated, but claiming as your own is not.
@venzlenes
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winstonsns · 2 days
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the gang and pda
authors note: some of these might be inaccurate so sorry about that! i’ll probably post a masterlist soon since i’ve been posting often :) sorry that this preference is really short, i didn’t have a lot of ideas for this one. also if you don’t know what pda means then it means public display of affection 💗
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includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mild cussing, mention of being jumped, a little suggestive in dallys part
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PONYBOY CURTIS
since he’s really young he doesn’t really like making out nor does he know how to do it
he really enjoys kissing and holding hands though but his hands can get really sweaty at times
in public, he doesn’t mind showing affection, he rather wants it than doesn’t
if you randomly kiss him in public he’ll lightly scoff, smile at you then kiss you back
he really loves you but doesn’t always know how to show it, sometimes he shows it in awkward ways that you don’t understand but you appreciate the effort
he actually prefers gifts so when he gives you something it really comes from the heart
but anyway he doesn’t mind showing pda, prefers showing affection in different ways besides physical touch
pony really loves holding your hand though
doesn’t matter where you are since he always wants your hand to be in his
JOHNNY CADE
he’ll be really close to you in public but gets nervous to hold your hand sometimes
he doesn’t want people to give him or you shit for it but if you grab his hand he’ll keep it there
also kisses your cheek, reversed too, and occasionally gives you a normal kiss if no one’s around
he also just feels like those moments should really be cherished and not on the disgusting streets
just overall feels more comfortable with physical touch when you’re in a safer setting like the curtis household
he really loves you but sometimes gets scared to set boundaries since he thinks you’ll leave him, so he doesn’t necessarily say what makes him uncomfortable
he ends up setting boundaries once you teach him how to, so you know not to always show pda unless he initiates it
that’s how you know he’s comfortable in whatever place you two are in
if he gets too nervous he’ll start fidgeting so you’ll rub his back soothingly and he’ll calm down a bit
that’s the only pda he’s always 100% comfortable with
DARRY CURTIS
this man is strong as fuck and you’re so attracted to it
you’re always latched onto his arm and when he hugs you you love it so much
yk that trend where the guy squishes the girls face with his biceps
that describes your relationship
he likes physical touch, makes him feel loved and stuff
like others, he’s not really up to full on making out in public, prefers doing that in private since it’s more intimate and doesn’t feel like people should see that
this man follows the sidewalk rule with his life
basically the sidewalk rule is he walks on the side where the cars are and you stay on the inside, so if the car were to get close you would be protected
his hands get sweaty sometimes too, i feel like all the curtis brothers would have sweaty hands idk why
darry will hug and kiss you in public and he’s not ashamed of it
sometimes he’ll get teasing from his brothers but he really doesn’t mind, he’ll just tell them to knock it off
SODAPOP CURTIS
he LIVES for pda and physical touch in general like it’s insane how much he craves it
he always tries to be as close to you as he can since he doesn’t want to be far from you
part of it is so he always knows where you are so he can protect you, the other part is just for comfort
if you hold his hand in public while walking around he’ll get so smiley it’s adorable
he doesn’t really have to keep up a reputation like dally so he doesn’t have to keep his act up or anything
soda also loves to be touching you whenever you’re with each other, non-sexually though
like you’ll be reading a book and he’ll just lay on top of you while one of your hands is on his head
he literally has no shame and will kiss you in public even if a whole crowd was watching
a little more hesitant on making out in front of everyone, he feels like that’s way more intimate and should be between just you two
he just loves to be around you and to be touching you at all times, like if you’re eating at the same table he wants your knees and/or thighs to be touching
when the two of you are sitting on a bench or something in public, he likes to be shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, knee to knee
sometimes he’ll even hold your hand even though you’re really close, he’s still aware of his surroundings though due to getting jumped many times
DALLAS WINSTON
this one’s kinda difficult since i feel like he’d be really possessive and touchy but he has a reputation to keep up with
ok i feel like he’d be really touchy but wouldn’t let people say it’s in the “i love you” way but in the protective “stay the hell away” type of way
like when someone stares at you for too long whether it’s judging you or admiring you he’s always like “the fuck you looking at?” and the person walks away
he’d be fine with wrapping his arm around you and making out with you in public, sometimes a kiss on the cheek
he knows making out with you is more intimate but he feels the opposite, kinda feels like making out is more rough and possessive rather than lovey in a cute and romantic way
he prefers to do cute kisses when the two of you are alone since you can take your time and it’s not just horny
sometimes when he gets a little agitated he doesn’t really like physical touch since he doesn’t want to burst out at you
ik its a little off topic, after he’s calmed down he’d lay on his bed while your head is on his chest, he’s smoking a cigarette while petting your hair
ugh he loves you so much sometimes he just doesn’t know how to express it :((
TWO-BIT MATTHEWS
doesn’t really care about pda that much, he’s fine with it since it doesn’t make him uncomfortable
yall disrupt peoples peace when you go down the streets with two-bit going on and on making joes and you laughing your ass off every time
he loves making you smile and since he’s not embarrassed about that there’s no way in hell he’d be embarrassed about some physical touch
he’d probably wrap an arm around your shoulder while you’re standing, sitting, walking together, etc
he doesn’t even think much of it, he just does it and it doesn’t bother him
two-bits fine with kissing in public but if you wanna make out with him he’ll be like “why”
he just doesn’t see the point of doing all that in public
it’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything, he just doesn’t get why you’d want to make out when there’s a lot of people around
STEVE RANDLE
he also doesn’t really have a reputation to keep up so he isn’t embarrassed showing pda
he just doesn’t want the two of you to get in trouble for it, and by that i mean getting beat up by socs
he really likes being around you
although he’s more of an acts of service guy, he’s fine with physical touch
he’s never had a problem with it in the past but doesn’t really crave it, steve doesn’t hate it though
if you want physical touch he’ll do whatever you want and if you wanna show pda then he’ll let you
since he doesn’t really have an opinion on it, pda doesn’t really happen very often since you really pay attention to what he says and he appreciates that
like two-bit, he’ll normally wrap an arm around your shoulder and will kiss you sometimes
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authors note: sorry i’m posting a lot! i enjoy it and ill try to make a schedule soon :3 💗
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superblysubpar · 9 hours
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thank you so much for requesting @retrosabers soooooooooooooo...idk what this is. but it turned into a makeup sex, kind of angry with steve, to I guess, the beginnings of the "How Sweet It Is AU" for me?? - you could just read this as stand alone smut, but please read the warnings below if you're unfamiliar with that AU and don't want a pretty big surprise at the end!
2,119 words
warnings: mentions of wearing Steve's boxers, SMUT (piv intercourse - creampie, angry/makeup sex & all the language and actions that may go with it - some kingish steve vocabulary if you will)| pregnant reader announcement - see How Sweet It Is AU warnings for more | my blog is 18+
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Late Summer, Early Fall, 1986
Your fingers slip from his neck and shoulders, sweat slicked tan skin there making the bright red of the scratches you made brighter. Angrier. 
They match the mood -  the deep lines between his brows, the pout of your lips, the brutal punch of his thrust inside of you, the clench of your jaw so you don’t do something satisfying like scream his name or fuck, say sorry. 
Neither of you can remember what started it now. You said something bratty, he said something even more so. Sharp tones and stressful weeks. Cupboards and drawers with volume and slams worthy of a battle of the bands. Silent tooth brushing while glaring at one another in the mirror sessions, and purposeful, childish things, like making only enough coffee for one cup each morning.  
Not that you had even wanted any today. 
The sun was brutal, the AC was busted, and Steve had found you lying on the hard kitchen floor, practically naked, and sipping something out of a blue, glass mason jar that was sweating more than you. 
He’d swallowed at the sight of your stomach and arms fully on display, the curve of lace over your chest, his boxers rolled over your thighs too high to be decent if you stood. Perhaps Steve could have taken the gesture of you wearing next to nothing as a white flag, but all he could think about was how hot he was, how tight the tie was around his neck, and how he was mad at you for a reason he didn’t even remember. 
Steve stepped over to the thermostat and without opening your eyes you called, “No difference.”
“When’s the last time you checked?” He grumbled under his breath, tapping at it with a roll of his eyes. “No difference.”
“Right,” you propped up on your elbows, glaring at him as you snapped, “Like I just said.”
He looked right at you for what felt like the first time in years, when really it had only been a day or two. But the sight of eyes that were honey turned hard, though just as sticky as they lingered on your own, had something in your chest warming. 
Steve glanced down at your body again as he yanked at his tie, throwing it on the counter before taking on his naturally annoyed position of hands on his hips. His fingers flexed against them while his head tilted in a way that exposed his throat more, made it easy to follow his swallow or the bead of sweat curving down his jaw. It made you want to curse whatever god created this man, and that was before he opened his mouth with a tone bitchy enough to match his pose. 
“Can you put a shirt on?”
The bite of his question made your eyes narrow, made you stick out your peachy, lace covered chest more just to spite him. His gaze returned to yours, challenging, fire burning between you both making his gaze molten - pure lava that was sure to consume you before you even had the thought of running from it. 
You stood as he harshly unbuttoned the white button down he was dressed in, revealing dark chest hair and the gold chain nestled there, both threatening to make you fold first, but you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. 
His finger’s movements slowed as they worked at the cuffs when you set your glass on the counter. As you took a step closer, then another, you both refused to break eye contact until your chests were almost touching and your chin tipped up at him in your own challenge back. 
“Make me.”
The space between your lips buzzed, his cupid’s bow mocking you, the heave of your chest doing the same to him.  
Maybe you tilted higher first, maybe he bent lower, but your lips crashed into each other - literally. 
Teeth against plush bottom lips and noses bumping, hands gripping at each other like you’re about to push the other off, yet you both only get closer. 
Steve pants into your mouth, his fingers dig into the skin just below your ribs as he pushes you in a direction clumsily, till your back is hitting the counter and you can feel how hard he already is as he pulls your hips against his own. 
You don’t give him the satisfaction of making any noise when his thumb brushes over a hard nipple through lace, or when his tongue meets yours. He doesn’t give you any either when you pull a little hard at the hair at the back of his head and roll your hips. 
Neither of you say a word or let your faces show any sign that this is all exactly what you want, what you need when he pushes at the boxers and lets them fall to the floor as he lifts you onto the counter or when you pull and push at his belt and dress slacks enough to free his length. 
Steve slips up a little when you wrap your hand around him, his head thrown back and teeth digging into his lip, fists forming against the counter next to your thighs with each slow tug. 
“What’s the matter Steve?” Faux pouting lips form the coy question while your hand pumps faster. You smirk when Steve lets loose a shaky exhale on your next words. “You wanna tell me how good it feels? How turned on you are right now? How sor-“
You inhale sharply when his thumbs spread you and a low rumble leaves his lips, too close to your ear, “Oh babe…me? I think if anyone here is turned on it’s-fuck.”
Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass and pushing him closer so his tip hits your entrance, your hand glides it through your folds dripping around him already, teasing at your clit then back down. 
“Speaking of fuck-oh.”
Your brows knit together, lips clamp shut as he slides into you slowly. His chest is heaving, white button down open so you could scrape you nails down the gray tank top revealed to you now, but you don’t. Your eyelashes are fluttering, fingers slipping against the counter and back arching so he could go deeper. 
He doesn’t. 
Steve keeps his thrusts shallow and slow, only giving you just enough to make you angry. Your cheeks grow hot, spine tingling, tongue pushing against your teeth with every glide in, silently willing, begging, him to go deeper. 
Your clit throbs, heels dig into him, but Steve stands firm, watching you closely, waiting till you look up at him. 
One damp strand of brown hair falls over his forehead, while eyes soften towards you again. Sweat rolls down his temple, each pulse of his steady heartbeat making his cologne sharper, mint and cedar distracting you, placating you. When you grip at his shoulders, finally touching him again, he exhales as his name leaves you in a whisper. 
“Steve,” your fingers grip the collar of his button down, “More.”
As your hands slip, nails curling into his chest, Steve finally gives you more. 
Then he stops.
Pressed against you, he inhales slow and steady, watching you. His arms flex around yours as his palms press to the cool counter, ignoring how thrilled he is to feel you fluttering around him fully now. 
He grins, finally, when a whine bubbles out of your throat at the lack of movement. He can’t help himself, raising his pitch and mocking your words earlier, “What’s the matter? Wanna tell me how good it feels? Wanna tell me you’re sor-“
“I said more,” you gasp around the words, rolling your hips until his hands fly to them and hold them in place. 
Steve looks at you seriously, black lust filled pupils taken over his gaze, and his tongue slides over his bottom lip before he speaks, like he’s debating his words. 
“I did give you more. Want something else? Gonna have to be specific babe. Maybe use a word that starts with ‘P’ and ends with leas-“
“Fucking, fuck me, Harrington!” You grip the cotton tank between your fingers, voice hot and body hotter and only getting more so when he throws his head back in a laugh. A laugh which only makes you clench around him more and spurring him on. 
“Harrington?! Did you just call me Harrington and then tell me to fuck you?!” He grins wider, his perfect smile on display, like he just can’t help himself. 
“Would you prefer King Ste-ohmygod!”
Steve pulls out and thrusts into you hard, his forehead furrowed as his mouth searches for yours. You meet him in a kiss that starts with another gasp as he sets a brutal pace. Your fingers slip around his neck and he lays over you so your back is against the counter. His hands drag you to the edge still, so his hips can meet yours over and over again as his tongue works at the seam of your lips once more.
He slows his kiss down, sucking on your bottom lip and pulling, breath exhaled against your cheek through his nose as your back arches and your nails leave their marks. Steve keeps thrusting, coarse hair hitting your clit that only aches for more when he releases your mouth. Lips kiss bitten and parting in shock when he speaks down to you with a deep and hoarse gravel, chest heaving as his nails scratch down your thigh. 
“Am I fucking you good enough, honey?” He pushes at your legs, bending them up and towards your chest so you do cry out as he somehow gets more inside of you, “Feel that? Feel how deep I am?”
He rolls his hips, a thumb pressed to your clit and you break, the lava creeping closer. 
Steve groans when you gasp a yes, a more. 
He thrusts faster, hands skating over your body, pulling and tugging you closer to him, lips brushing against your jaw then your neck as he speaks. 
“Wanna come for me baby? Feels like you do, this pussy’s just crying around me.”
You gasp at the filth coming out of him, hating that it only makes him slip inside of you easier, faster. 
Steve lets your legs fall, guiding one around his hip and the other pressed next to your head, his torso rising so his gaze can stay on where your bodies meet with an intensity you haven’t quite seen before. He looks like an older version of a Steve you met a long time ago. 
Realizing now, his pants aren’t even down, his shirt only just unbuttoned, chain glistening in damp chest hair. His forearm veins and shoulders flex with determination you used to see on a court, jaw pulsing, and his brow sweating, but no longer furrowed - like he knows he’s won. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, tongue between his lips as his thumb swipes over your clit in a large figure eight and you jolt. His hand reflexively pushes your shoulder down, while he keeps working on the swollen nerves in time with his thrusts. 
Each pass, each thrust, is a clock counting down drowning out a crowd for him, knowing if he just keeps going, he’ll make it. For you, it’s lava gaining ground, inches from your demise, the heat licking at your body now enough for you to cry out his name just like an adoring fan. 
Steve grunts, brow furrowed again so he can focus on what he’s trying to say. 
“Oh, it’s first name basis again, yeah? Did that good of a job? An-another slut satisfied with their fuck from Harrington?”
You cry out a yes, literally, your orgasm breaking over you in multiple releases. You clench around him, thighs tightening on his hips and Steve’s rhythm stutters as you take everything he gives you. The rush of every pent up emotion makes it’s way over your lash lines. Angry tears, sad tears, relieved tears. Maybe delirious as you start laughing, fingers swiping at them and Steve’s head whips up. 
He slips out of you with a wince, his fingers catching the tears and his forehead furrowed with worry now, “Baby, babe. Hey, hey, hey, what’s-I’m sorry, that was too far, I thought you-“
“Steve,” you hiccup, fingers catching his, eyes doing the same to worried and back to warm honey irises. 
He waits, thumbs soothing over yours only pausing when you speak again. The scratches on his neck and shoulders pink now, less angry - sorry. They match the pink lips that part, the cheeks that stand out behind tear tracks. They still match the mood. 
Softer. 
Sweeter. 
Just like the words leaving your lips. 
“I’m pregnant.”
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bagerfluff · 20 hours
Note
i love casper!! Can i request jealous casper because he met reader's ex or someone very close and felt insecure and stuff! Maybe drama with the ex still in love with reader and gets casper all heated up by saying things like "i can make him feel so good. Bet you can't compete. He moans so loud with me and he cums inside me sooo much."
Reader has no idea why casper is suddenly down/anxious and irritated
An: Hi, I hope you like this and have a good day/night/after noon. Don't forget to drink water :)
Jealous Of The Ex
Sub/Bottom Casper x Top/Dom Male Reader
Prompt - Jealous
Warnings - Fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, praise, nicknames
I also want it noted while that there is smut it is not the main part of this fic, I recommend you read all of it. But if you want to get straight to the smut but go past the caution tape.
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“For the last time, stop calling me!”
You yelled into your phone. You pulled your phone away from your ear and ended the call. You groaned and placed your phone on your desk, ignoring the beeps.
“Everything okay sunshine?” Casper asked, he doesn’t think he’s seen you so angry. He’s been listening to you yell into your phone for the past hour.
“It’s just my ex, they won't leave me alone. I think they still like me”, you said. You walked over to your bed and flopped on it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.
Meanwhile Casper was thinking, he knew you had an ex, just not that they were like this. Casper felt angry at them, you obviously didn’t like them anymore, plus, they were making you stressed.
Casper heard your phone beep. Casper walked over to it, the screen lit up and Casper read the message. “Come on baby, I know you still love me”, it read, making Casper’s blood boil.
Casper turned the phone off, placing its screen down on the table. How dare they think you still like them, you loved Casper now, right? I mean, you said that you dated your ex for a few years before breaking up.
You’ve only known Casper for several months now. What if? Casper shook his head, no, he was being paranoid. Casper walked over to your bed and layed down next to you.
“It’s fine, they’ll stop”, Casper said. You sighed, “yeah you're right”, you said, turning your head to smile at Casper. Casper smiled back, yeah, you loved him.
Not your ex.
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Casper heard a knock at the door.
Which confused him, you were still at work and you didn’t tell Casper that anyone would be coming. Casper placed his book down and walked to the door.
“Yes”, Casper said as he opened it. “Yeah, is Y/n here?” The person asked, peeking behind Casper. “Do you know him?” Casper asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes, I’m his partner, but who are you?” The person asked. Casper felt hands grip his arms tighter. So this was your ex, Casper could see what you dumped them.
Just hearing them speak made Casper want to punch them in their face. Plus, they were lying. Casper was your boyfriend, you were his and he was yours.
“No, I’m his boyfriend, now listen”, Casper said quietly, but angry.
“You’re just a ex who can’t get over him, I’m the one Y/n fucked last night, not you. I’m the one that got him moaning over me. I’m the one that made him cum inside me, you’re just an asshole”, Casper said through gritted teeth
The ex stared at Casper with wide eyes, “fine dude, whatever”, they turned on their heels and walked away. Casper slammed the door shut with a grunt.
Casper leaned against the door, who did they think they were. Who did they think they were? Casper did have to admit, they did look good.
You had dated them for years, you liked them, you fucked them. What if? What if they convinced you to go back with them? What if? Casper heard the door open.
Casper fell back but you caught him, “Whoa, you good Casp?” You asked, pushing him back up onto his feet. Casper furrowed his brows, walking away from you.
“You okay Casper?” You asked while taking off your shoes and jacket. Casper mumbled stuff to himself as you followed him. Casper turned around and sat on your bed, arms crossed and pout on his face.
“What's wrong?” You asked, worry evident on your face as you sat next to him. Casper turned his head away from you, he wasn’t mad anymore. He was more jealous.
You were the most important thing to Casper, he loved you more than anything. The thought of losing you scared Casper more than anything.
Casper hated it, Casper did all of this for you.
He ran away from everything he knew for you and then he might lose you. “Are you okay?” You asked Casper, noticing tears slowly running down his face. “I’m fine”, Casper said.
You turned to face Casper, “what happened?” You asked, grabbing Casper’s face in your hand and turning his face towards you. Casper stared at you before looking away and glaring.
“You’re ex visited, made me jealous”, Casper said. You sighed, “I’ll get a straining reorder on them I swear”, you mumbled. “But, you don’t have to be jealous. I love you, not them”, you said with a smile.
Casper calmed down, “yeah, I guess”, Casper said, though he was still a little jealous. Casper was a bit jealous about something else, about how you fucked them.
He knew you dated them before, but how they looked when Casper brought up the fucking. Casper was jealous of that. “You okay, you still look angry”, you said.
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You glanced down, noticed a boner in Casper’s pants.
“Oh, that’s what you're still jealous about”, you said with a smirk. Casper looked towards you, just to see you smirking. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll show you just how good you make me feel”, you pushed Casper onto his back.
You took off your shirt and opened your bedside draw, taking out a bottle of lube. Casper moved back on the bed, the smirk on his face matching your own.
You looked at Casper before nodding your head to his pants. Casper quickly removed his pants and boxes, revealing his half hard dick. You lifted one of Casper’s legs and lined up a lubed finger to his hole.
“Hmmm, yes”, Casper groaned as you slowly started to finger him. “You’re my boyfriend, my perfect fuck toy”, you said while adding another finger.
Casper moaned at the praise. You added another finger and sped up, your dick getting harder hearing Casper moan. Once you thought Casper was prepared enough you let his leg fall.
You grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some into your hand. “Look at this love, you made me feel like this”, you said. Casper leaned up on his arms, staring at your erect dick.
You didn’t remove your pants, just took your dick out. You didn’t have the patience to wait. Casper moaned and watched as you slid your dick into his hole.
“Ahhah~”, Casper moaned as you started moving slowly. “Do you feel me honey? Nobody can make me feel like this”, you said. Casper moaned again, “F-faster~, m-more~”, Casper groaned.
“As you wish”, you said before doing exactly what Casper wanted.
“Nnggee~, hmhmh~”, Casper moaned  as you sped up. You groaned and leaned down, trapping Casper’s head between your hands. “You heard me pretty boy, you do this”, you groaned into Casper's ear.
Casper moaned and bucked his hips forward. You moaned and sped when you felt Casper tighten around you. “C-cumming~”, Casper moaned as he came on his and your stomachs.
You groaned and leaned back up, thrusting faster as you chased your orgasm. “Ahaha~”, Casper moaned as you came inside of him. You pulled out and smiled at the sight of cum dripping out of Casper’s ass.
You leaned back down and kissed Casper on the forehead. “I love you, not anyone else”, you said. Casper smiled, wrapping his arms around your neck to pull you closer to him. “I love you too, more than anything”, Casper said.
You were his, and he was yours.
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miss-dollette · 2 days
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Wake up call for ballistic Team Black and Rhaenyra Stan’s.
TW: Opinions and bad language.
Rhaenyra “rules for thee, none for me” Targaryen. Rhaenyra “Aegon wants to usurp my throne” but when it comes to my obvious bastard sons… nah, they’ll get this land and titles because they’re trueee Valeryeon’s (meanwhile, there’s actual Valeryeon’s who’d step up to the mantle but can’t ’cause Rhaenyra’s daddy is a fucking moron who doomed his family).
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Whether Rhaenyra Stan’s want to admit it or not, Rhaenyra is a hypocrite and makes some of the most dumbest mistakes because of how spoiled and shortsighted she is. She doesn’t seem to care about consequences and constantly reaps what she sows.
She had a choice in marriage to any lord in the kingdom, which would have been a massive political advantage, but she blew it and had to marry a guy who wasn’t even straight. Not only that, she had a choice in having three bastard kids. Westeros literally has forms of birth control that she could’ve had at any moment. But noooo. Rhaenyra didn’t think ”hmm having kids with someone I’m not married to will have massive consequences and would essentially arm my enemies with more ammo on why I shouldn’t have the throne. I live in a culture that’s horribly misogynistic and everyone already doubts me because I was born with a vagina. But I’ll have two more kids even though they’ll be targeted the rest of their lives.”
What a top mind you have, Rhaenyra!
Ooooh, and i hate when she was like “now they see as you are”, bitch, what? “Now they see you as you are” - you mean a woman trying to get justice for her bullied child, who was now maimed by one of his bullies? Omg, can you imagine what Rhaenyra would have done if Jace had been the one to have his eye removed? And Viserys would have 100% let her. Matter of fact, he would have encouraged it.
I think at that moment, Alicent knew her children’s lives were in danger. Even if she hadn’t done anything at that point, besides essentially being the perfect queen and somewhat bad mother (who’s a perfect mom when you’re forced to marry and have kids before you’re even 18), her rightfully royal children were in sooo much danger, and it was proven at that moment.
And Daemyra is so god damn mf stupid. Daemon. Is. Loyal. To. Himself. And. Ceraxes. Rhaenyra is essentially a tool to put his blood (and himself) on the throne, and that’s pretty much it. He’s a complete psychopath, pedophile, and power hungry. Just because he treats her well sometimes, doesn’t mean he’s not the same Daemon who killed his last wife.
Every Rhaenyra Stan is like “Rhaenyra would never let anything happen to Alicent and her kids :)” but let’s be so fucking fr right now - Daemon would definitely kill them. Why the fuck would he ever let Otto Hightower’s kid, grandkids and great grandkids live, and even have the slightest chance against him? And Rhaenyra would let him. He literally choked her, and she’s the heir to the throne and he faced ZERO real consequences for that.
Okay, so hypothetically, let’s say Rhaenyra wins the throne, and all the Greens are dead. No one is that much of a threat to Targaryen rule, and Rhaenyra is to become queen officially. Daemon is king. Daemon. Is. King. And they still live in Misogynistic ass Westeros, and Rhaenyra is still a woman. You know how easily Daemon could just pull a “Give me that crown, everyone wants a king anyway and they’ll obey me ‘cause I’ll fucking kill them with my giant ballistic Lizard like I’ve always done, but now I have a massive military who is also fucking misogynistic. You’ll have my heirs and that’s it. Thanks Rhaenyra!”?
Rhaenyra would never let Daemon go. She needs him. Even she said it. So what would she do if he wanted the throne? Nothing. He’d kill her if she fought against him. Mr. Daemon “I murdered my first wife to get what I want” Targaryen.
And before anyone calls me a misogynistic team green or whatever, no I’m not Team Green, I’m just tired of how Rhaenyra Stan’s pretend she’s some sort of saint and the perfect character. If this doesn’t apply to you, don’t bother with lecturing me.
Rhaenyra is not Daenerys, and never will be. Just because they’re both girls and aspire for the throne, doesn’t make it a #girlboss moment. Rhaenyra wants to continue Targaryen supremacy and rule over the small folk just like her ancestors before her. She’s a super spoiled brat who doesn’t care about anyone’s pain, and wants to use everyone else as her pawns. So, more like Cersei than Daeny.
Is Rhaenyra someone completely evil? No, but she’s a huge idiot.
Also, I do sympathize for both sides, but Rhaenyra and her fans just make me want to rip my hair off.
I wrote this in 20 fucking minutes so pls don’t get on my ass about spelling errors. Bye.
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Title: While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Author: eyesofatragedy67
Artist: witchy-worm
Rating: Teen and Up
Summary: Cas's deal with the Empty broke Dean's heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn't get him out.
They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.
But Dean's got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.
And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.
Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester & Original Female Character, Past Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Canon Divergent After Episode 15x18, Fix It Fic, No Rebar Was Used In the Making of This Fic, The Empty Deal, Songfic, Dean Winchester POV, Non-linear Storytelling, Flashbacks, Nightmare Containing Non-Graphic Suicide, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester/Castiel First Kiss, Cas Gets By With A Little Help From His Friends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Loosely Inspired By Across the Universe, Finale What Finale
Posting on June 26
Keep reading for a short excerpt.
Arms laden with bags, Dean carefully closes the hood of Baby's trunk and makes his way to the bunker entrance. The lock sticks a little as he turns his key, and he makes a mental note to get some lead shavings so he can loosen it back up.
As he steps inside, he hears laughter echoing off the walls and quietly sets the bags down so he can have a moment to himself, a moment to just enjoy his loved ones taking a well-deserved break after the insanity of Michael and Belphegor and a fucking zombie apocalypse.
He can see Sam's mane of L’oréal commercial hair tossing as he uproariously laughs at something Cas said. Dean doesn't catch it, but whatever it is probably isn't meant to have Sam giggling like the teenage girl he is.
The look on Cas's face is one Dean has a strong affection for. That confused puppy head tilt that is sometimes genuine bafflement, but other times his way of indulging his favorite humans. Dean would give a lot to keep looks like that on Cas's face. Fuck knows he's been the cause of enough sadness and disappointment for the guy. Seeing him happy, at home, is everything to Dean.
But he can't tell Cas that. He can never tell Cas that he wants him to have every ounce of happiness he deserves.
Because he can't lose him. Dean can't lose the goddamn love of his life to happiness. And how fucked up is that?
So he takes these moments as he gets them. He treasures every single fucking smile, every small laugh, every gentle touch… and he doesn't say the words that have been scorching him from the inside for so damn long.
Some day that deal Cas made – the one Dean isn't supposed to know about – is going to come out in the wash, and Dean is going to lose one of the most vitally important people in his life.
But not today, dammit.
Dean smiles down at them, quietly chuckling as Jack walks into the room with a look so similar to Cas's that it's hard to see Lucifer in the kid now.
Leaning on the banister railing, Dean just watches them for a bit. There's nothing perishable in the bags, so there's no reason he can't just sit back and soak in this scene of his chosen family doing normal family shit.
The love he sees there, and the love he's hiding, are weights in his chest that he's not willing to give up. He'll fucking fight for them; he'll blow up the goddamn world if it means he gets to hold onto this.
He swipes away the stupid man tear that’s trailing down his face and focuses on the now. Because moments like this are what keep him going. This ragtag bunch of idiots are his motivation.
He'll be damned if he's gonna lose them. Even if it means he loses a bit of his heart in the process.
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slyvester101 · 2 days
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Wash remembers the first day he saw Tucker without his armor.
They were at Valhalla, long after the fight with the Meta, finally settling down into a routine that felt… natural. That being said, Wash was still a little stiff around base, unsure what to do or how to act with nobody around to give him orders.
Well, Tucker would give him the occasional order, but it was more of a snarky request he never expected Washington to complete or a bitchy reply to whatever melodramatic comment Wash had made.
Besides, Tucker seemed hesitant to give any actual orders despite being the highest ranking on base, leaving Wash to just… hover.
He’d train in the morning, going on simple runs while he healed up from fighting both Tex and the Meta before gradually moving back to his regular training regimen. Sometimes Caboose would join, giving Wash a run for his money with how difficult he was to take down in a spar.
Tucker never seemed keen on joining, not much of a morning person himself, though he obviously trained at some point since Tucker could wield his plasma sword like a pro.
It was a shame they trained at different times. Wash would really like to wage his knives against Tucker’s sword.
It was that fateful sunny day, however, that finally gave Wash that chance to wager.
It was early, even for Wash. The sun had barely made it over the horizon, the canyon still quiet as most of its residents slept.
Wash was practically buzzing in bed.
He didn’t want to wake Caboose, couldn’t even if he wanted to. When Caboose was asleep, he was dead to the world until he got his eight hours. (Like clockwork. Wash was impressed.)
He also didn’t want to wake Tucker, but the itch in his skin wasn’t going away even after pumping out enough push ups to make his arms sting or running around the canyon enough to get his legs aching.
No, what he needed was a spar. And a good one at that.
Tucker seemed like the kind of guy to understand that kind of itch. Wash thinks he’s seen it in the few times he’s caught him practicing katas with his sword.
Angry and rushed and hard, yet still powerful and firm and artful.
Wash would like a fight with that. Wash would really like a fight with that. Which is what got him into this situation.
In his defense, he did knock on the door.
He just also… forgot to wait for an answer.
He was antsy, alright? He hardly had the patience to wait for Tucker to wake up enough to answer him.
He really should’ve waited.
Tucker laid there bare, the only thing covering him up being the blanket tangled around his middle (and thank fuck for that). Miles of dark skin that Wash didn’t even think to consider was under that aqua armor shined softly under the morning sun along with the long connecting marks of gentle blue tattoos covering his body. Wash trailed them up and down the length of Tucker’s body, dully noting the two marks that curled over his face.
That must’ve been a bitch to get.
Tucker definitely worked out to some degree if the lean muscles covering his body were anything to go by, Wash noted with a mild appreciation—
Wait. No. That’s not what he’s for.
He snaps his eyes back up from where they were, admittedly, staring at Tucker’s thick thighs up to his face and—
Were Tucker’s eyes always open?
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
Wash flushed from head to toe as Tucker flashed him a lazy grin and oh fuck Wash can see the sharpness of his canines from here.
“Uh.” He said dumbly, brain still figuring out how the fuck Tucker’s voice was so grumbly even though he wasn’t wearing his helmet. “I was just— I just wanted to know if you wanted to have a spar with me?”
The end of his sentence trailed off as Tucker sat up in his elbows, blanket falling further down his stomach to reveal some thick, jagged looking scars of blue. It took all of Wash’s willpower to not just stare at the artwork across Tucker’s skin.
Focus.
“Dude, it’s like, butt-fuck o’clock. And not the fun kind. Why are you even awake?” Tucker didn’t sound annoyed, just curious, mostly groggy and maybe a bit amused.
Wash shuffled as Tucker blatantly checks out his own armor free body, feeling a little self-conscious about the sweat making his shirt cling to his chest.
“I uh, couldn’t sleep. ‘M a bit restless.”
Tucker looks him over a bit more critically, taking note of the way Wash practically vibrates out of his skin. He flicks his eyes up to Wash’s and all Wash sees is plain and simple understanding. His shoulders drop a bit.
“Hm. Yeah, sure. I could go for a spar.” Tucker’s gaze shifts again and Wash feels like he’s pinned to floor with the intensity of it. Tucker leans back on his elbows more, shifting just enough to make the blanket fall just between his legs, leaving very little to Wash’s imagination.
“I could go for more than a spar, if you’re up for it.”
Wash blinks.
Blinks again.
Did he mean…?
His body buzzes in excitement at the implication, his fists squeezing tight to keep it from spilling out of him. “I’ll get my knives. Meet you out in the yard in ten.”
Wash is bolting out down the hallway before he can spot Tucker’s confused expression.
He’s finally going to be able to test Tucker’s swordplay.
This was gonna be fun.
+++
Tucker watches with mild interest and confusion as Wash slips from view before letting himself plop back down onto his bed.
When he had awoken to Wash eyeing him up, he thought it was gonna end with both of them in here. Apparently, Wash is a lot less observant than previously thought. Or maybe he was just stupid oblivious.
Spending years with the same group of people while in the middle of a military operation was not indicative of good flirting skills and comprehension.
Tucker would know, he had to relearn so many things about sex and the art of seduction after all the years he spent in Blood Gulch.
Maybe he could give a fee pointer to Wash.
In the meantime, he had a freelancer’s ass to kick. Tucker didn’t spend all that time playing with his sword for nothing.
This was gonna be fun.
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porcelainseashore · 2 days
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Into the Ether (9)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.
Authors' Note: Implied child kidnapping ahead.
Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥
AO3 Link
Chapter 9: Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Another night, another part of the mystery to solve. But first, you had agreed to go into work. Nothing was going to stop you, not even the ‘Prince’s orders’. Something about having a nightly routine kept you sane and grounded you in reality. Not that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, but you didn’t want to lose touch with the living. You didn’t want to become like… Leon?
You heaved a disheartened sigh thinking about it. You’d been giving the man the silent treatment ever since returning from the Spencer Mansion, and you didn’t like it one bit. Hurting people wasn’t something you enjoyed — be it ignoring them out of spite or acting in a way that would lead to someone’s unfair demise. It didn’t help that you were constantly being reminded of how powerless and insignificant you were. Was this the best you could do when taking a stand? Or was there something more?
Working felt like walking. You went through the motions: socializing with your colleagues, pandering to customers, planning out the next month’s events program, making a couple of calls along the way, and your personal favorite — sorting out the cafe’s finances. Even the Redfields showed up, informing you and by extension, Leon, that they were still on the suitor’s case and would have something juicy for you soon.
“Do you ever miss the sun?” you wondered out loud. 
It had barely been a week since you turned, but you were already bemoaning the fact that you wouldn’t be able to live to see it. Although the nights were longer now that the year had entered into its colder period, you had thought ahead, speculating how it would be like when summer returned again. That was depressing.
“Always,” Claire responded, patting your shoulder empathetically.
“Best not to think about it,” Chris chimed in, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You’ll get used to it at some point, and besides, there’s always YouTube.”
“Very helpful, Chris,” his sister huffed in disdain, forcefully backhanding her brother so that he choked on a bit of his beer.
“What the fuck, sis?” he groaned, wiping the beer stains off his clothes with his bare hands in annoyance. “On my nice shirt as well.”
For some reason the constant bickering between the siblings caused you to double over in laughter and they looked at you in amusement. After you recovered from your giggling fit, you pointed to Chris' bottle, asking, “So you can do that thing of actually enjoying what you eat and drink?”
“Uh huh.”
“Maybe you can teach me?” you tested the waters. “Leon was supposed to, but—” You stopped yourself in your tracks, realizing that you’d have to share a lot more than you would be comfortable with.
Unfortunately, Claire was perceptive enough. “Trouble in Paradise?” she suggested, only to continue on her train of thought when you didn’t answer, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. He may be a prick who needs a nudge in the right direction, but he’ll come around.”
She pressed her arm against the wall and leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “And I hate to say this, but he’s actually a good guy.”
The expression on your face must’ve given away how you felt when Claire had uttered those last words. She quickly peppered it with, “He must’ve screwed up pretty bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say it’s one screw up after the other,” you finally replied.
Chris gave a low chuckle, “Sounds like him alright.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame the guy for trying though.”
“Alright, I’ll let you in on something,” Claire began, only to be interrupted by her brother.
“Oh man, not again! Can’t ever keep your goddamn mouth shut, can you?” he scolded.
“Shut up, Chris! She’s cool with us, you know that,” she retorted and he conceded, though you could still hear him grumbling in the background.
Turning towards you triumphantly, she continued, “I’ll keep it short. He saved my brother's skin; I owed him a life boon, and Chris probably did too, but he turned it down in the end.”
“Yeah, said something about not wanting to take advantage,” Chris piped up, shaking his head in disbelief. “To this night, it still floors me.”
What they had said gave you some pause. It seemed as though Leon had a bunch of demons to confront, and there was always an internal battle waging. You just hadn’t been able to break through. But did you want to in the end? Or would you just leave him to rot in his own misdoings? You weren’t anyone’s savior and you didn’t want to be. You simply wanted to do what felt right to you.
“Guess there’s a lot more to him that I don’t know about,” you mused.
Chris’ wide palm met your back with a loud thump that reverberated across your chest. “Hey, chin up, kid. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get there. Us Brujahs don’t give up without a fight.” His brown eyes lit up and crinkled, fine lines of crow’s feet fanning out from the corners. “And no matter what anyone says, I still think you’re one at heart.”
“Brujah, huh? I like the sound of that.” A crooked smile played across your lips as you laid your cards out on the table. “I’ve heard you’re fierce fighters. Mind showing me a few tricks? Just so I know how to fend for myself.”
Chris stood taller, eyeing you with curiosity as a sense of pride visibly swelled in his chest.
“I could throw in a supply of beers on the house to sweeten the deal,” you added, pointing at the empty bottle he was clutching at his side.
He barked out a laugh before responding, “Well, now that you put it that way, you’ve got my hands tied.” Placing his bottle down on a table beside him, he agreed, “Sure, I’ll give you some tips, but a word of warning: I don’t go easy.”
The rest of your shift went by without event, until Leon dropped by to pick you up for the next meeting planned that night. Since neither of you had gotten any real leads on the case yet, he thought it best to visit the Bakers first before heading back to NEST, where the Primogens' offices were and where Jill would be waiting impatiently for answers. 
In the jeep, the atmosphere was thick with tension, though along the way, he tried to cut through it with some advice. “I know you’re still upset and don’t want to talk, but I need to prepare you for this.” 
He tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “As Malkavians, the Bakers all suffer from some form of affliction following their Embrace. In this case, they believe a little girl called Eveline is part of the family, except no one else can see her.”
“You mean she’s invisible?”
The car swerved off-center as Leon glanced over at you, startled by your response. It was the first time you had spoken to him in a while. You clung onto the grab handle and yelled, “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
“Shit, um, sorry!” He focused his attention back to his driving, quickly stabilizing the vehicle before he spoke up again. “And, uh, no. I mean, we don’t think she actually exists.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is that going to be a problem?”
“Not if you pretend she does,” he stated plainly. “Otherwise, they’ll get really provoked if you don’t interact with Eveline.”
“Right, thanks for the heads up.” You nodded curtly. “Anything else I should know?”
“Yeah, well, uh, just be—”
“Careful. Got it,” you finished the sentence for him.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he emphasized. “These folks have always been rather isolated from the Camarilla. Last I heard, they don’t take kindly to strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So, if all hell breaks loose in there, I want you to book it and run, alright?”
You frowned, shifting your gaze in his direction. If his intention was to allay your fears, he had done nothing but heighten them. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He flashed you a reassuring smile, but you could make out the hint of unease in the curl of his lips. “Take the car keys when we reach the place, so you have your escape route if needed.”
You let his words linger in the air as you kept quiet throughout the rest of the ride.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Reaching the outskirts of Raccoon City, you were traveling along Stone-Ville Road, where there was nothing but open land. The trees had been cleared from the forest, and multiple estuaries flowed from the Raccoon Dam. The area was sparsely populated, with only a smattering of houses spread out from each other in the distance. At some point, Leon made a left turn into a side road, heading towards a decrepit-looking estate that was slightly off the beaten track. It appeared to bear some similarities to the Spencer Mansion back in Arklay Forest, causing a spine-tingling shiver to sweep through your body.
“Designed by the same architect from the Trevor & Chamberlain fame,” Leon pointed out, seemingly able to read your mind.
“That guy from New York?” You remembered reading about him in magazine articles and the mystery of his disappearance as people mourned the loss of a genius.
“Yeah, so expect surrealist stuff, including puzzles and secret passageways,” he cautioned.
You balked at the thought of having to enter yet another labyrinth like the one at the Tremere Chantry.
“It’s just for a friendly chat,” he asserted, his calming blue gaze meeting yours. “I doubt there’s any need for us to explore the house, unless they make things difficult.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you muttered, tucking the car keys into your pocket as you stepped in front of a formidable, rusty gate.
It was unlocked, and as Leon pushed it open, it screeched on its hinges like a dead woman's wail, beckoning you towards the crumbling building before you, which was long past its heyday. The refurbished plantation house, where you assumed the Baker family lived, was part of a larger ranch estate, and it looked like something straight out of a slasher flick.
Leon pressed the doorbell, waiting to see if there was any sign of life. A light switched on, its mellow rays filtered through the window shades, and you heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards until the door swung open. An older lady with her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail peered at both of you in confusion. She wore a tattered, sweat-stained button-up blouse and a brown skirt. Her coarse and wrinkled skin still carried an unfaded tan, suggesting a life of manual labor, where she had tended to the animals and fields under the sweltering sun.
“Can I help you, miss, mister?” she asked in a heavy Southern drawl. “We weren’t expecting anyone at this time.”
“Ma’am,” he dipped his head politely in acknowledgement. “Sorry for intruding on you like this, but there wasn’t any other way to contact you.”
“Well, we don’t want no trouble, young man. Just mindin’ our own business, that’s all.” Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she fiddled with the hem of her cotton blouse, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at a blank space behind her.
Your attention was drawn to the area she kept looking at, and as you concentrated on it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had the strangest sense that someone was there, but you couldn’t make out any shape or figure, just an energy. An icy chill gripped your head, as if cold hands were feeling along the grooves of your brain. You shuddered, realizing that whoever it was knew that you were aware of its presence.
“We don’t want any trouble either,” Leon assured, raising his palms slightly to indicate a truce. “We just have some questions we could use your help on, regarding an attack a couple of nights ago.”
The woman still clutched onto the door apprehensively. “Why? Who sent you?”
“The Prince put us on the investigation,” he disclosed warily.
At that moment, a shadowy figure materialized behind the woman, taking a few seconds before you could make out his features in the dim light. He was an older man, around the same age as her, balding and wearing spectacles. Likewise, his yellow striped shirt and beige pants were worn and filthy, as though he hadn’t changed out of it for decades.
“Prince?” he questioned defensively, placing his hand on the small of the woman’s back. “What does the Prince want? We didn’t do nothing wrong, son.”
“No, you didn’t,” Leon agreed, quickly following up with an explanation to assuage the man. “We have the assailants in custody, but it appears they’ve been brainwashed and manipulated through Dementation — a skill that you’re well-versed in.”
The man eyed him like a hawk as Leon continued, treading on thin ice. “We thought we could use your expertise, and if you might’ve picked up on anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity.”
There was a pregnant pause before the man relented, “Fine, you got 5 minutes to ask us anything you wanna know, son.” Pushing the door wide open, he gestured for you to enter. “Come on in.”
As you stepped into the gloomy premises, he pointed at you, flashing a warning glance in your direction. “And no more snoopin’ around, young lady.”
Oh, right. You must’ve unwittingly activated one of your powers earlier to sense his presence, when he had relied on his Obfuscate Discipline to remain hidden. “Sorry, my bad,” you mumbled. “It was an accident.”
He nodded, turning around to make his way into the living room where a dining table was situated. “You girls can come out now,” he hollered. 
You saw a younger woman with jagged, short hair emerge in a similar fashion to how the man did before, sitting at one of the chairs at the table. Despite that, you greeted two people as Leon had instructed, and he followed suit. A round of introductions followed, where you learnt that the older couple were Jack and Marguerite and their two daughters, Zoe and Eveline, with the latter being the youngest at 10 years old.
Marguerite disappeared into the kitchen for a bit, only to return with a tray of crockery. She handed out cups to everyone and poured a red, viscous liquid from a teapot. Jack grumbled in the corner that it was meant to be a short meeting, but at the same time, couldn’t help but appreciate his wife’s hospitality. Bringing the cup to your nose, the liquid smelled musky, like earth, and you wondered where it came from.
“It’s the best I can offer at such last minute notice,” she apologized, wiping her hands on her blouse as she sat herself down. Twisting her head in the direction of the empty seat next to Zoe, she cooed, “But Evie likes it, don’t ya, sweetheart? That’s it, drink up now. Little piggy’s blood is good for you.”
You watched as the cup on the table remained motionless, while Marguerite bombarded the invisible entity with sweet words of encouragement. Trying to ease the awkwardness in such a situation, you took a mouthful of the liquid from your cup. It was the first time you tasted animal blood and as much as you hated to admit it, it was incredibly bland compared to human blood. Like a simple gruel versus a gourmet meal. Then again, neither could bagged blood beat the real thing, though you tried not to dwell on it. You smiled politely over at Zoe, who threw you a sympathetic look.
“You’re new, huh?” she asked shyly, cocking her head as she gazed at you.
“Mm hm, about a week.” You took another sip and pursed your lips, swallowing the liquid like a chore that had to be done.
“Ooh, a baby!” Marguerite interjected, suddenly interested in the conversation between you and Zoe. You imagined she was the social butterfly of the group. “Maybe Evie can show you a few tricks.”
At this, Leon rested his hand over your arm protectively, forcing a strained smile. “Perhaps another time? We really should get down to business.”
“Ah, city boys and their ‘business’,” Jack remarked, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, what can we do for ya?”
You heard Leon speak, but his voice seemed to drone on with the others, and out of nowhere you started to enter a tunnel vision. In your line of sight, you spotted a framed photo of the Baker family, though something was amiss. There was a young man in the picture you hadn’t met yet. He was thin and lanky, and had a hoodie on that obscured part of his face. Leaning back on the couch, he stared directly back at you with a bored look in his hollowed eyes.
It took you a while, but you managed to snap out of it, uttering the first thought that came to your mind, “Is that your son, mister?”
All at once, the mood in the room shifted, taking a dramatic turn for the worse. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you as Jack ordered ominously, “Get the hell out.”
You opened your mouth in protest, but Leon beat you to it, rising up from his seat as he contended, “Look, she didn’t mean anything by it. We’re sorry, alright? Could we just—”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, boy!” Jack bellowed, his command resonating across the room.
Leon’s body grew rigid and he remained mute. Dread seeped into your bones as you observed the previous scene of peace and tranquility descend into an utter nightmare.
“Mama, Evie’s getting upset,” Zoe announced in a tiny voice.
“Argh! See what you’ve done now?” Marguerite shrieked as she stomped around the room in a temper tantrum. “This is your fault!” she accused, glaring at you and Leon.
“You barge into our house and threaten my family? This won’t do!” Jack shook his head menacingly as his eyes glowered. “I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.”
His eyes changed into an otherworldly shade and Marguerite joined him, speaking in tongues. They gazed at Leon as if engaged in a séance. However, Zoe remained separate from their antics, looking on in fright. You stood rooted to where you were, bracing for the worst, but nothing happened. It was only when you saw Leon sink to the ground on his knees, his face pale as a sheet, that you realized he was bearing the brunt of your transgression.
He was taken back to years ago, at the height of his blood bond, where he would do anything to win Ada’s affection. Her interest in him had begun to wane and he was sure she was seeing another lover. But this time, he would bring her the vessel that would change her mind about him and guarantee her everlasting love.
There he was, at that godforsaken group home, the one linked to the Catholic church he had frequented when he was still alive, and where he would sell his damned soul for a second time to the Devil. All it took was a flash of his police credentials and a charm or two from his arsenal of skills he had honed to entrance the nuns keeping watch over the children.
“Sherry, are you ready to go?” He extended a hand towards her. 
This wasn’t his first rodeo. Ada and him had been noticing the little girl for a while, testing to see if she would be a worthy vessel for the Prince himself. After all, Ventrues were extremely fussy drinkers and Wesker expected a Michelin star meal every single time. The only thing stopping him from delivering the girl over was a vague sense of morality he still had within him. But he was desperate enough now to dash it to the ground for a chance at his sire’s approval again.
The girl had dressed into her school uniform, a hairband holding her blond tresses out of her face as she peered up excitedly at him. “Yes, let’s go!”
She would have done anything to get away from the home where she never slept well and felt alone despite being in a room full of kids around her age. Where Leon was taking her sounded like a glorious fairytale. A palace with a prince, she imagined, a place where she would be treated to all the luxuries her current life could never afford her.
“Oh god, no!” he cried out, doubling over on the grimy floor of the Baker House. 
Sherry was haunting him again. Everywhere he looked, he saw multiple copies of her like a cracked mirror reflecting her ghost on its uneven surface. He heard layer upon layer of her laughter, jumbled and out of sync, mocking and taunting him. Paranoia sank in and he curled himself into a fetal position, pleading for no one in particular to forgive him.
“Sherry, please, we have to go!” he urged. 
This was years later, when he had some sense knocked into him from the time he hung out with the Anarchs. He wanted to right his wrongs, and free the girl who was never meant to be trapped in the underworld in the first place.
But she had changed. She was older and wiser, and knew exactly what she wanted — it was definitely not to leave.
Yanking her hand back, she kicked her feet, stamping on the ground as she yelled, “No! I want to stay!”
He was shocked by her absolute conviction in remaining within the prison where she was held, like a pretty songbird for the rest of the Kindred to gawk at. “But…”
“You can’t make me!” she screamed, red in the face.
Rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to do than stare at the crying child before him with his jaw hanging open. He thought he was saving her, like a knight in shining armor, but she didn’t need any saving. She was perfectly happy where she was.
“One day, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,” he babbled on repeatedly, reduced to nothing but a trembling mess before the Malkavians.
During the entire period when Leon appeared to be suffering from a mental breakdown, you were torn about what to do. He had told you to bolt the minute something like this took place, but you couldn’t leave him to fend for himself in this state. You didn’t understand what he was blabbering on about. Was Sherry his sister? Where was she? What happened to her?
A million thoughts raced through your mind, but you shut them down. You needed to pry Leon away from the family’s cold clutches and keep him safe. Mustering your courage, you approached the one who seemed to be the most reasonable of the lot. She still sat in her chair, gazing upon the scene with a vacant yet troubled expression.
“Zoe?” you called out softly, hoping it wouldn’t escalate the situation. “Please, we don’t mean any harm.”
Her eyes darted towards you.
“I know you’re just trying to protect your family,” you deduced, especially from the way they had been on edge the moment you stepped onto their property and inadvertently brought up one of their own.
“We need the information, but I swear to you we will keep whoever it is you’re trying to protect safe,” you promised.
Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with glassy eyes. In the background, you could hear Leon’s gut-wrenching whines of pain.
“Zoe, please!” you begged, your brows furrowing and tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes. You couldn’t bear to witness him in such agony any longer. It felt like your heart was shattering into pieces, though you couldn’t explain why.
“Eveline, stop,” her calm voice sliced through the air and the buzzing energy died down. 
Her parents came out of their hypnotic state and Leon stopped shaking uncontrollably, though he backed himself into a corner in fear. You rushed to his side, holding him in your arms as you checked his eyes to see if he had fully returned to the present.
“You stayed…” he whispered, reaching out to touch your face, as though he was trying to ascertain if you were real.
In an instant, you pulled him into an embrace, rocking him gently as you stroked his hair. “You’re okay, Leon. You’re safe.”
After a while, he relaxed into your arms and his breathing returned to its normal tempo. The Bakers exchanged worried looks but said nothing as they gave him time to recover. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I-I’m sorry about what happened there, son. Just been a lot going on these days.”
You turned around, deciding to take the reins as you spoke for the two of you, “I understand, and as I promised your daughter, we’ll make sure that, um—”
“Lucas,” Marguerite offered.
“—Lucas won’t get hurt.”
Jack nodded, taking off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “You see, how we work is through what others call premonitions or clairvoyance, and all that mumbo-jumbo.” 
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Well, lately we’ve been sensing a bunch of Sabbat activity in the city. Their symbols are everywhere, like little red hotspots across the center. They’re planning more of these attacks for sure, just heading down along the river.”
“Circular River?” you probed.
“Uh huh, the one closest to town,” he concurred. “And, uh, I’m guessing you were also here about the Cobweb?”
“Yeah.”
He swallowed anxiously as Marguerite took over. “It don’t always speak to us, and sometimes it’s hard to make out what it says. But we heard somethin’ the other night.”
She paused, adjusting her hair restlessly before she divulged, “It was Lucas’ voice, carried like a wave by a thousand voices, saying his name is nobody. That stood out, but we don’t know why.”
Nobody said they were nobody…
You caught a flicker of recognition in Leon’s eyes as you recalled what the man had said during Jill’s interrogation. Was Lucas responsible for all of this?
“Where’s Lucas now?” Leon asked, his voice still a little unsteady.
“He don’t want to be found.” Jack shrugged dejectedly. “My boy’s always been a real firecracker. Left home one day and never came back. We think he’s with them — the Sabbat.”
“But he’s a good boy,” his wife insisted. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“We just want him to come home,” Zoe added. “Evie wants her big brother back.”
The joy and curse of familial bonds. You could get behind that.
“We won’t breathe a word about Lucas,” you pledged, overriding your sire’s authority as you answered on behalf of him as well. “Right, Leon?”
You could see the discomfort in his expression, though he grunted an affirmative reply.
As Jack showed you out of the house, you thanked him and his family for their assistance, though a final question came to your mind. “Can Dementation have long-lasting effects?”
“With the right choice of words, it can.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
To play it safe, you took over the driving on the way back as you and Leon discussed the information you had gleaned from the Bakers.
“You think Lucas is the one?” you asked as you stopped at a red light.
“No, I don’t think he worked alone,” he opined. “It took two of the Bakers to bring me to my knees.”
There was a momentary pause as he clenched his fist at the memory, exhaling another deep breath of air. “I know we are talking about manipulating a group of lesser vampires, but unless he’s a prodigy we’ve never discovered, there were most likely others involved at the same time.”
“Makes sense,” you agreed, easing off on the brake pedal to switch over to the accelerator as the lights went green again.
“You still want to protect the guy, even after what he did?”
Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing your knuckles to turn white. A promise was a promise, and there was more than enough bloodshed these nights.
“Yes,” you forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Got a problem with that?”
“I admire you,” he murmured, dispelling your misgivings. “Your compassion.”
You felt your anger dissolve as you followed up with a suggestion. “It’s never too late, you know?”
He gave you a weak smile but remained silent for the ride home.
Back at his apartment, you noticed that he still seemed shaken by the night's events as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, gazing blankly into space. Was he going to doze off in that position? You had already changed into a loose muslin nightdress and gone through the usual bedtime preparations.
Strolling over, you sat down beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “They spooked you real bad, huh?”
He didn’t laugh at your joke, though he acknowledged it. “You can say that again.”
This wasn’t like him at all. You grabbed his shoulder in concern. “Hey, you don't seem okay.”
“I’ll be fine,” he sighed, looking away from you to his lap. “And… thank you for back there.”
“I would never abandon you like that,” you stressed, even if you hadn’t forgiven him for turning you… yet. 
He glanced at you with his watery blue eyes in appreciation, but you could tell that his mind was in a distant place elsewhere. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw his hands quivering, and you hoped that what the Bakers had done wasn’t permanent. You knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but a part of you felt uneasy about leaving him on his own.
“Um, why don’t you sleep next to me today?” you offered hesitantly.
He peered at you quizzically. “You sure?”
“Yeah, just get dressed, alright?” You made your way up the stairs and waited for him by the bed before he could argue any further.
He joined you later, clad in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, keeping a respectable distance as he lay beside you. There was a nervous energy to him.
You drew nearer, caressing his arm tenderly. “We don’t have to talk about whatever you saw in there,” you affirmed. “I’m here if you need me.”
He tucked your hair behind your ear as a stray tear fell onto his face. Wrapping your arms around him, you closed the gap, breathing in his scent as you felt his hands along your waist. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before you released each other. His nose nudged against yours as his warm breath grazed your cheek. When his gaze lowered to your lips, you didn’t have to think or doubt what would come next. 
Leaning in, he placed his soft lips over your own, kissing you intimately as he savored your taste in his mouth. Instinctively, you kissed back, running your fingers through his messy locks as your tongue licked across the seam of his lips. A low moan escaped his throat as he pressed up against you, claiming your lips again and again. It was the last thing you remembered as daysleep enveloped you like a cocoon, lulling you into a temporary hibernation.
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wolven91 · 2 days
Text
An Adventure
"Wait! Wait, hold on. You can't just... do this?" Said the young man, exasperatedly, running up the metal ramp.
He had just run up to another human, a female by the looks of it, and halted her advance up the ramp towards a runner transport with a touch on the arm. A quick squint at the signs designated this runner as a shuttle craft for the much larger transport craft that waited relatively close to the Galactic Community station. The human hadn't grabbed her or spun her round, but the brief touch had the even slimmer human spin on her heel and raise her voice, knocking his touch away.
"I can do what I want!" She cried out, snarling at the male.
"I know that! But what about us? I thought we were happy? Where's this come from? We can talk about this." The young man nearly begged, his eyes frantically searching the other's, flicking from left to right. It was evident from the observer's perspective; whatever he was searching for wasn't there.
"'Us'? 'We' aren't anything. All 'we' had was convenience." She dismissed. The young man looked shocked and took a small step back as if physically slapped. He blinked dumbly whilst the young woman crossed her arms and settled onto her back leg, seemingly waiting for the slower human to catch up.
"Con-convenience?" He repeated, as if not understanding the word.
"Yes. You're literally the only other guy in the system, and you were fine when I didn't have options. But I don't have to stay here, I can be someone now!"
"I'd never stop that! You were always 'someone' to me. But, I'm not going stop you from being someone, wherever you like, but what about... about us?! We were dating! And-and now you're leaving without so much as a goodbye? I thought you were kidnapped! This came out of nowhere!" The male replied, gaining steam for a moment, but the female merely pivoted, taking him off the subject.
"Liam, do you know what humans are right now?" She asked in a lower tone.
"Endangered?" He replied honestly and factually.
"No, you idiot! We're famous! Humans can have whatever we want! All we have to do is demand it and every single one of these-these... these aliens! Will give it to us!" The youth nearly shouted, gesturing an arm at the various creatures that were walking too and fro nearby. The distance was not enough to drown out the words and they gained more than a few frowns from the denizens of the station who had all been aware that they were hosting not just one, but two humans.
"But it's dangerous Cass, there's a reason we've all been broken up. What happened to Ned wasn't his fault, but if we disregard what they're telling us, we'll end up the same!"
"Oh fuck Ned and fuck you. I'm smarter than the pair of you and know how to stay out of danger, plus the GC baby proof everything!" She a paused and swept a hand through the hair on the side of her head before continuing in another low, but now hungry tone.
"Now everyone is on a level playing field, I can be bigger than any human that came before! I don't need a marketing team, I just need to go to one of the core worlds, and I'll be the next best thing just because I exist!" The human declared, a righteous grin spreading across her face as she once again fantasised about how her life was about to change. How she was only weeks away from becoming the celebrity she had always deserved to be.
The young man however seemed stuck.
"What about..." He paused, as if realising something. When he continued, his voice was almost so small it was nearly too quiet to hear.
"This'll make you happy?"
"Obviously." She snapped.
The gulp was obvious from a distance as the male swallowed around the lump in his throat.
"Please be safe Cass. For me?"
The young woman rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. She then pointed at his chest.
"You're paranoid Liam. You're going to grow old here, safe as everyone else and when you're old and grey you're going to regret your whole life. You could have everything you ever wanted, but you're too afraid to take a step out the door and take it." She reached down and grabbed her bag. "One day you might grow a spine."
With that, she span on the spot, and stomped into the transport's private booth and the door slid shut behind her. She didn't even glance back or hesitate a moment. The young man however, stood there for the extra few minutes it took for the transport to finish bordering and begin pulling away.
The lone human raised a hand and waved at the retreating vessel before the airlock doors shut it from view.
The observer, who had been quietly stealing EMNs from the unattended stockpile that had been left next to the transport dock, snorted in disgust, and stalked away from the sight, their ill begotten bounty quickly secreted away.
== 0 ==
Liam was despondent from that day onwards.
Whilst his relationship with Cass had been strained at times, they'd been happy... Hadn't they? He'd combed through his memories looking for evidence of where he'd failed, where she'd given him a sign that he'd missed.
As he sat on a chair that rested on his balcony, he'd held his head in his hands as he mulled over their lives.
She'd not appreciated the overprotective nature of the other beings, that was certain. Aside from this, she merely lamented the loss of Earth, frustrated that it was necessary that humanity be split up. She was mostly just bored with the lack of social media to provide her entertainment. The jokes of the various aliens never really landed with neither Liam, nor Cass as both of them experienced the station in a different way so the analogues to social media that were available didn't fit the bill. It didn't scratch her itch.
More than once had Cass gone on a rant about the aliens and how they weren't like humans. Liam was aware that Cass had been trying to get a social media career off the ground ack home as she saw that as a way to live a good life without joining the rat race.
"She must have saw another chance." He mumbled, sighing and scooting back down into the chair. It was odd, having a balcony that led to the inside of a station. There were giant lamps that turned on and off as the day and night went by, but there was never any wind or rain.
Liam missed that sensation.
He'd wanted to go somewhere and feel the wind on his face again, but that was just a dream for now. He'd been told to stay put by the GC, and it didn't feel right to just...
'One day you might grow a spine.'
Her words slammed into him and pointed an accusing finger directly at him. Judging him. Telling him exactly why he'd been left behind by her. Liam pulled a face and a pit in his stomach opened.
What if he tested the length of his lead?
If he appeared at wherever Cass was, would that be enough to prove that he wasn't trapped by the GC? That they could both be free together?
"Oh, fuck what am I doing?" Liam asked no one as the young man stood and walked with purpose to his front door. His body moving while his mind reeled in frantic panic.
== 0 ==
Kelsh opened and closed her hands as they rested on the bar in anticipation, in a sort of 'gimmie' gesture. Her claws unfurling and curling back in as she licked her chops, eyes locked on her goal.
As the large cold beer was placed down on the bar in front of her before being pushed into her grip, she clasped it with both hands and tipped her back, drinking greedily. She'd been waiting for this for roughly three weeks. Ignoring that the bastards had been deliberately stalling her payment for good received, she now was rather flush with credits that these wimpy GC cretins accepted.
It was as she was downing her first pint that her second arrived and a human walked in. It was only because she was facing the door that she noticed the creature slip into the dingey bar and head over to the freelancer board. Kelsh lowered the glass, and placed it down more carefully than normal as she watched the creature browse the board.
That was when she remembered; this was the 'human' that had been left on the landing pad by its mate.
Her eyes widened as she realised that this creature was her meal ticket for the foreseeable future. No one would dare search a vessel with a human on board. The GC were petrified of giving the humans a bad impression of their oh so 'perfect' galaxy.
As she rose from her seat, a sneer sprung to her lips as a vulptanis beat her to the punch and began a conversation with the human. Kelsh picked up the pace and approached the human's back, before looming over the vulptanis. It took a second for either of them to notice her.
"We'll need to take a detour as we have other commitments, but we can provide... provide..." The haughty vulptanis's face dropped as she tilted her head back to observe the imposing hyenid.
"Fuck off." Kelsh ordered and the vulptanis obeyed, scuttling away with their tail between their legs. The human practically jumped, spinning on the spot, and craning his neck even further back up at the towering creature. Kelsh merely put her forearm against the passenger board and leant over the human, who placed his back against the board as she crowded him.
"If ya' gonna' be travellin' the black, ya' gotta' find a cap'in who's not gonna' run off the moment someone tells 'em to 'fuck off'." Kelsh explained down at the human who was looking rather pale at this point. She grinned wickedly, not quite drooling at how fragile he looked. He wasn't saying anything, so Kelsh spoke again.
"Look, ya' lookin' at t' passenger board. So ya' wan'in to travel, yeah?" She prodded, gesturing at himself, then the board. She had an idea where he was wanting to go, but she needed to know for certain. Her belt was mere inches from his chest, but she had left an escape route that went straight to the front door of the mercenary bar.
The human didn't run though, breaking her expectations and instead; nodded. She tilted her head in approval and placed her free hand against her chest.
"Alright, I'm a cap'in of a ship. I can take ya' where ya' goin'." She explained, placing her free hand against her hip, his eyes following it and naturally eyeing the curve of her thigh and stomach. To look her in the eye, those little eyes had to cross the rest of her too and her grin widened as they lingered by accident.
"But ah... " the human cleared his throat. "Y-you don't know where I'm going?"
"A good cap'in knows how t' make profit wherever she goes. Where to?"
"The 'core worlds'?"
Kelsh smirked, she suspected as much, but nodded.
"Theres a few of 'em. Got an idea which?"
"No... I'm looking for someone."
"A'rite. That's what they call a 'rollin' contract'. Ya' stay on board as we go n' my crew provide protection. Ya payin' in credits or material?" She asked. Chances were he only had credits, but his belongings could sell for significant money to the right buyer.
"I haven't agreed to go with you yet." He retorted, a frown briefly crossing his features. Ah! Unexpected, but welcome. He wasn't a complete welp.
"Aye, true. But ol' brushy tail there left ya' with the scary 'Nid. That's ignorin' that she just said she wan't goin' to the core straight away. That'll be vulp space where they're goin'. Outside of GC space. You goin' w' that type? The one that doesn't 'get' what it means to be a 'ooman'?"
Kelsh watched the human's face as he came to realisation that his protection was thanks to him already being somewhat deep within GC space. The further out he went, the less protections he had to going missing. He needed someone reliable, rough enough to protect him and willing to go deeper without delay. His precious mate would be getting further and further away.
"I'm goin' inwards. Toward the cores. Up to ya' though." She explained, curling her fingers on her free hand to 'casually' inspect her claws.
His scent was not lost on the older hyenid either. There was fear, excitement, and a spicy undertone of lust with how close her body was. Kelsh could happily stuff her muzzle into the nap of his neck and inhale until she could breathe in anymore.
But she resisted as the tiny creature eventually came to a decision.
"Do I have time to collect my things?"
"'Course. Bay 4, ship's called the 'Gnarled Gnoll'. Ya' ask for me when ya' get there. They won't bite if ya' tell 'em I sent ya'."
"Whats your name?"
"Kelsh, yours?"
"Liam. Pleasure to meet you ma'am."
Kelsh's laugh was long and loud, her head flinging backwards as hysterics washed over her. Never in her life had she thought to be called 'ma'am' before. This was going to be great!
[r/WolvensStories]
[Ko-Fi]
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