#Maintenance White Rock | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

g0r3wh0rre · 2 months ago

Text

𝓑US𝓣 𝓨𝓞UR 𝓚N𝓔𝓔 𝓒A𝓟S 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 방찬

you can't seem to get away from your ex husband, no matter how hard you try.

⧼ 🩹 ⧽ 一 𝓹a𝓲r𝓲n𝓰 ⸝⸝⸝ ex husband!bang chan 𝓍 fem!reader 𝓲nc𝓵u𝓭e𝓼 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ unnamed oc daughter

𝓰e𝓷𝓻e ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ non-idol au, smut, angst, porn with plot

𝔀arn𝓲n𝓰𝓼 ⸝⸝⸝ dubcon, street fighter and underground boxer!chan, criminal!chan, mentions of jail and gangs, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, toxic and possessive behavior, toxic ex!chan, manipulation, explicit language and sexual content, soft dom!chan, degredation and praise kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, breeding kink, impregnation mentions, clit slapping, daddy kink, squirting 𝔀𝓸r𝓭 c𝓸un𝓽. 6. 2 k | ⧼ 🥊 ⧽ 一 𝓽𝓸 𝓵i𝓫rar𝔂.

♫ 𝓫u𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸ur 𝓴nee ca𝓹𝓼 ❪ 𝓳o𝓱nn𝔂 𝓭on'𝓽 𝓵eave 𝓶e ❫ 一 𝓹𝓸m𝓹𝓵am𝓸𝓸𝓼e

[n𝓸𝓽e𝓼.] my first fic on my new blog! something shorter to start out with <3 this took me a little too long to write i'm afraid since it's my first go at angst themes but i'm pretty proud of how this turned out! this isn't proofread, so please lmk if there are any mistakes! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

THE KNOCK ON THE door makes your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, cutting through the peaceful quiet of your kitchen like a knife. You drop the pot you were scrubbing in shock, clanging loudly as you grip the edges of the sink in a futile attempt to calm the pounding of your heart. At first you think— hope— that you were simply just hearing things, your little skyline apartment falling back into an uncertain silence sprinkled with the pouring rain outside, an atmosphere that no longer felt comfortable. But the knocking starts again, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, ringing in your ears like alarm bells. You nearly jump out of your skin, your hands shaking as they reach out to turn off the water faucet. There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.

It couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be someone else, your landlord or a neighbor or a maintenance man or anyone. You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back. But you hadn’t called for maintenance, and you hadn’t heard from your landlord, and the way that his fist beat on the door as if it had somehow offended him was unmistakable.

You consider, for a split, mindless moment, that you could simply ignore him. He’s just a man, after all— a weak, spineless one at that, underneath that intimidating façade he loves to hide behind. He’ll give up and leave eventually, you try to convince yourself, but you know him far too well to fall into that blind hope. The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.

The thought alone is enough to get your blood boiling, a red-hot anger overtaking any amount of fear or trepidation that kept you back. You refused to let this coward affect your daughter, wake her up without a single thought or care when you had just spent hours gently rocking her to sleep. Not after everything you’ve went through to keep him away from her.

You hurl the sponge into the sink with a scowl before spinning around and storming to the door. You wrench it open mid-knock, leaving the man on the other side of it standing there with his fist outstretched and blinking at you owlishly.

The sight of him shocks you to your core, despite how much you had tried to prepare yourself— blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin. The rain washes it away, down his chin to drip onto your welcome mat, staining it a faded red in the outline of his scuffed sneakers. He’s drenched down to the bone, the sharp ridges of his pecs and abs visible through his white tee shirt, the thin dark jacket he had draped across his shoulders doing little to protect him from the ever-worsening downpour. His dominant hand he curls protectively against his bloody abdomen; the knuckles are busted, and his pinky finger is twisted unnaturally to the side.

You look back up to his face just in time for him to flash you a weak, wobbly smile, a wounded ghost of the ones that used to send your heart soaring and fill your stomach with butterflies. His plump bottom lip is split down the middle, a jagged crater that threatens to open even further with every movement he made.

“Hey.” he croons, dropping his fist to his side, pained little smile dropping into more of a wince.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss venomously, praying to any god that would listen that he couldn’t tell how badly you were shaking. “How the fuck did you get my address? Go away before I call the cops. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Come on, baby, wait—” you try to slam the door shut, but he catches it with ease, and even one-handed he’s stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” You sneer, biting back hot, painful tears.

If any of your words hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he extends his wounded hand, prying open his fingers with some effort to present you a bloody, crumpled wad of bills.

“For her.” He says simply.

Your eyes rake over the bills as if they were alien, hardly able to muster up the breath needed to scoff at him incredulously. “I don’t want your dirty money.”

You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from, it was written all over his busted, bleeding face— under no circumstances would you line your pockets with the bettings from street fights, feed and clothe your daughter with money that people had shed blood for. You had told him this when you had left him, given him the choice to leave it all behind or lose everything.

He chose the streets, and you kept your promise.

Yet you don’t have the strength to slam the door in his face, no matter how much you ached with the desire. Chan keeps the bills outstretched, the blood-smeared faces printed on them winking up at you, taunting you.

“Who told you where I live.”

“…A friend. Please, just take it.” He whispers, just short of begging. “I know how badly you need it. He told me you were struggling.”

“You don’t know anything.” you spit, but there’s no fire behind your words anymore. The rain has put it out, left you defeated, feeling betrayed, admiring how the streaks of lightning illuminate Chan’s hunched over silhouette. Your mind wracks itself for whichever one of his goons could have possibly caught sight of you, but you come up empty. You fear he may have found you through an inside source.

Thunder booms in the distance, much like your heart. The helpless, desperate look in Chan’s big brown eyes sends the rest of your defenses crumbling to dust.

he tries to shuffle his way inside, and you let him— everything inside of you yells at you to stop him, shove him away and close the door, never to look at him again. But you don’t. You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room. No matter how hard you try to convince your muscles to move or your mouth to open and retort, all you can do is stand frozen by the door, watching with wide eyes as he drips blood onto the carpet.

He tosses the stack of cash onto the coffee table, the bills unfurling and flying everywhere. You count six, maybe seven million won, all those zeroes staring up at you as your mouth goes agape.

You had been losing sleep for days over having to tell your landlord that you would be late on rent for the third time this year. Somehow, you feel like Chris knows that, though it was impossible to tell how— it brought you back to all the times before where you swore that he could read your mind.

It seems that he still could, even out in those dark alleyways, on the other side of the city. Tethered to him. Just what you were afraid of.

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” you finally manage to say, your usually strong voice timid and weak. “at least let me clean you up.”

Mindlessly, you scamper back to your kitchen, bending down to rummage through the cabinet beneath the sink. your first aid kit was still in there somewhere, hidden behind a mountain of cleaning supplies and spare bottles, something from your old life that you had held on to just in case. It was as if you were moving in a trance, just sheer muscle memory, the situation all too familiar; you couldn’t count the amount of times Chan had come home just like this before, back when you were still together, beaten and staggering but grinning victoriously as you carefully clean and bandage him up. It used to excite you, even, in some sick, dark way. He never lost a fight.

But that was before you had gotten pregnant. Before the danger that lurked beneath the surface of your husband’s lifestyle creeped up on you and became all too real.

“I’m fine.” Chan replies gruffly, though the pain in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just want to see my baby girl.”

Your fingers freeze around the first aid kit, all the heat and color draining from your face. “You’re not seeing her.”

“You can’t keep me from her.” Chan replies coldly. “She’s my daughter, too.”

You jump to your feet so fast that your vision goes fuzzy, spinning around to watch with wild eyes as he balances his good hand on the wall and limps his way to the nursery. You hate how he still remembers where it is.

He smears a trail of blood across your tattered wallpaper. The sight of it shocks you into action.

“You get away from her!” You snarl, nearly leaping across the dining table to grab onto the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”

He shoves you off effortlessly, his sheer strength nearly sending you flying back against the wall. “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt her.” He growls, making it to the nursery door in the time it takes for you to regain your senses. “You know I’d never let anyone lay a single fucking finger on her.”

He quietly cracks the door open and steps inside, leaving you to follow him biting your tongue— you can’t bear the thought of her waking up, especially now with Chan in the room. She hasn’t seen her father since she was born, and that was only because he had forced his way inside of the delivery room. He was essentially a stranger to her.

And, quite frankly, how she might react if she lays eyes on him again scares the shit out of you.

Chan staggers to the crib, quiet as a mouse, his large frame bending over the railings to look down into it. Your daughter lay on the mattress peacefully asleep, her little chest rising and falling with her soft, steady breaths. You’ve stared at her for hours before, studying every freckle, every wispy eyelash that brushed against her rosy, round cheeks. The way her nose is already starting to look like her father’s, his dimples forming around the upturned corners of her dainty little lips, always giving the impression that she was enjoying her dreams. Whatever they were, you took some comfort in knowing that they were, they’re better than what waits for her when she opens her eyes.

Chan is nothing short of entranced, grabbing ahold of the crib’s railings with both hands, so tightly that his cracked knuckles were threatening to split back open. He gazes at her sleeping little form with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before— a fire burning, but not one that hurt or destroyed. Not anything like the fire in his eyes you were used to. It was one that warmed and protected, the watchful, dutiful stare of a weathered knight in armor.

Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant. You fixate on his face, unable to look away, and watch awe-stricken as your ex-husband refamiliarizes himself with his daughter’s face.

“She’s grown.” He whispers, undoubtedly able to feel you breathing over his shoulder. His voice is flat and lifeless, but it starts to break at the end— he blinks hard, and you swear for a second that you saw his eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, she’s a monster.” You reply easily, the rampant emotions swirling around in your head calming down at the sight of your baby peacefully sleeping. Talking about her is soothing, almost therapeutic. “Always hungry. The doctor says she’ll be nearly nine kilograms by the time she’s six months.”

“My little girl… she was so tiny in my arms…” Chan laments, lowering his eyes to look down at his hands. It was like he was looking at someone else’s, shocked by the dirty, bloodied state of them. He suddenly wrenches them from the railings and shoves them in his soaked jacket pockets, the act causing him to grimace with pain. In the peripherals of your vision, you see faint bloody fingerprints smeared across the white wood.

You struggle to keep your voice calm. “She’s gotten so big so fast… it feels like that day was just yesterday.”

Chan’s gaze hardens and grows cold again, his head spinning to stare you down with an ironclad sharpness. “Not to me!” he spits, gritting his jaw. “Not when you wouldn’t let me ever fucking see her, wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were doing. I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?”

Your shoddy mask of calmness cracks, red hot anger flaring back up again and rising to the surface. Your voice trembles terribly, but the disgust in your words is palpable. “She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.”

The last comment strikes a chord within him. He stalks towards you, his dark eyes boring into yours, all that stormy emotion churning in them focusing directly onto you. Chan isn’t exceptionally tall, but you feel so incredibly small underneath him; he looms over you like some kind of predator, his lip curling back into a nasty snarl. “I’m nothing to her because you made it that way.” He seethes, his deep voice growing louder and louder. “Don’t you ever try to put it in my baby’s head that I don’t love her. Stop trying to convince yourself, for fuck’s sake— you both are absolutely everything to me, you know that. Everything that I do is for our future.”

You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Chan sneers, shoving his face up against yours. “You just can’t get it into your dumb, pretty little head. What kind of “real job” is gonna take an ex-con? Even if they do, I wouldn’t make nearly as much money as I can out on the streets. All I want to do is provide for you and our daughter; can’t you see that? I’m doing what I have to do to survive. My own future is fucking ruined. You two are all I have left.”

“And you’ll ruin ours too!” you laugh incredulously, directly in his face. “With all your blood money and all the enemies you make. You’re going to get arrested and locked up again, destroy mine and my daughter’s lives— fuck, you’ll get us all fucking killed! What if someone you beat wants revenge?! These are dangerous people, Chris!”

“That’s what I’m trying to protect you from!!” Chan roars, slamming his fist against the crib’s guardrail. His voice and the loud thump startles you, all three of you— you and Chan both peer down into the crib to see your daughter’s peaceful sleeping face screw up, her mouth opening to let out a shrill wail as she kicks out her little chubby legs.

Chan’s face falls, all the bitterness and anger leaving his body in a rush, like he had a bucket of cold water poured over the head. He looks the part, anyway, still dripping wet from the rain, tearing his eyes away from your own to stare down at your daughter as if she were a ghost. Your rage overtakes you to the point it can no longer contain it, your entire body shaking as you manage to grit out two icy words;

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery. Your eyes bore holes into his back as he retreats, expecting him to turn around at any moment with some more nasty words to sling your way… but he never does. He stays completely silent as he shoulders open the door, doesn’t even turn to look back at you as it clicks shut behind him.

Part of you wants to follow him, chase him out snarling and snapping like some guard dog, but your daughter’s frightened little cries tug painfully at your heart strings. Tears of your own pool in your eyes as you carefully lift her out of her cot and snuggle her against your chest, soothing your hand down her quivering back as she hiccups into your sweater. “Shhh, it’s okay… you’re safe, Mommy’s got you…”

You rock her until she falls asleep again, fighting the entire time not to break out into sobs yourself, and when you finally place her back down into her crib and slip out of the nursery, you’re not at all surprised to see Chan still in your apartment, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands.

Your apartment looks like a fucking crime scene. For the first time tonight you’re able to take everything in, all the blood dripped on the floor and smeared on the walls. All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater. The cabinets under the sink are still swung open, your first aid kit left forgotten on the kitchen floor.

You don’t have the energy to be mad at Chan anymore, your gaze lingering back on his weathered frame. You don’t have the energy to feel anything except empty. Depleted.

Wordlessly, you pick the first aid kit off the floor and make your way to Chan. He lets you cup his face without a fight, raise it out of his hands so you can dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his forehead. The sting makes him wince, but he doesn’t try to move away, looking up at you with eyes full of stars as you wipe away the dried blood from his skin. The dim lamp by the couch cast dark shadows across his handsome face, bathing him in a sensual, intimate light. You can’t bear to look back into them, the way they make your heart twist painfully in your chest, deep chocolate brown so effortless to get lost in. You busy yourself with bandaging up his forehead, and then his lip, and then his busted hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Chan whispers softly, the question making you stop in your tracks.

“I… don’t know.” You admit after a long pause. You do it without thinking, just like when he first stepped inside. Your natural response after seeing him hurt so many times before, playing nurse while he boasts to you about his triumphs, fills you with empty promises and proclamations of love. Your hero, swearing to you that you were his savior. Everything in you still aches to soothe him, heal his wounds and numb his pain, be his guardian angel like you used to be before his suffering became your own.

If he were addicted to the fighting, you would be addicted to what came after.

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?”

Your fingers pause in the middle of wrapping up his knuckles in gauze, quivering slightly as you let out an agonized sigh. “It’s not about whenever or not I love you, Chris. I have to put our daughter first. I have to make sure she’ll be safe and happy.”

You barely manage to finish bandaging up his hand, your knotting work far from the best. The minute you let go of him he pulls you right back, his big hands enveloping yours and squeezing tightly. “She will be, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, never let anything happen to either of you— I’ve got the means to keep you protected no matter what happens. You’re my everything… I’m so lost without you.”

His bandaged hand slides up to caress your cheek, his skin so bitterly cold. “Channie…” you warn, but you’re the weakest you’ve been all night. Chan can see it in your eyes.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He continues softly, hushed like he was kneeling for confession. “I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Breaking feels a lot like letting go. Dropping all your fear and worry, any semblance of rational thought to finally allow yourself to nuzzle into Chan’s touch. He knows you too well, always knows exactly what to say to get your walls to come crashing down, what to do to when the smoke clears and you’re left defenseless amongst the rubble. Because, underneath all the piling resentment and hatred, the divorce, the distance you’ve been fighting for, you truly do still love him. You fear you always will.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.

You’ve never felt safer.

“God, you’re so pretty…” he whispers awestruck, under his breath almost as if he were talking to himself. His thumb maps out the curve of your cheekbone, down, down, down to your pliant, pouting lips. The pad of it is hardened and calloused, rough against the soft skin of your bottom lip, but the sensation leaves you aching for more; you open your eyes to bat your eyelashes up at him, open your mouth to invite his thumb to creep inside.

The flash of carnal, animalistic lust in his eyes sends a wave of liquid fire coursing through you, down your spine to where it pools heavy in your belly. You purse your lips around his thumb and suck it in deeper, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking on something else entirely. Chan groans deep in his chest, his other fingers curling tight around your chin to pull you towards him. “Fuck. Come here, babygirl.”

You surge forward to capture your lips with his, and he meets you halfway; the pillow softness of his lips are hauntingly familiar against yours, yet somehow they feel completely brand new, like uncharted territory in a land you’ve ventured in countless times before. Any chastity is quickly tossed to the side with the heady sensation of his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, the warmth in your belly heightening into a wild swirl. You’re shocked by your own eager response, opening up immediately to let him ravish your mouth with a forceful domination that left you weak. He pulls you effortlessly onto his lap, your legs spreading to wrap instinctively around his waist, the closeness of your bodies maddening. Your blood pounded in your ears, leapt from your heart with a scalding fire, and made your body tremble, senses reeling as if you had short-circuited. Clashing emotions whirled around in your head, but your consciousness had left you the minute your lips made contact with his. All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.

You kiss him back with reckless abandon, hands reaching out to hold him, anywhere you possibly can— the wispy hairs at the base of his neck, the worn leather of his jacket, the grooves of his defined muscles through the fabric of his wet tee shirt. He crushes you against him, swallows you within his big beefy arms, one of his hands running down the small of your waist to grab a fat handful of your ass. You gasp against his mouth as his touches grow bolder, massaging the globes of your ass and guiding your hips to glide against his. The outline of his half-hard cock pokes at you through his jeans, growing thicker and stiffer with every passing second, pressed perfectly against the curve of your cunt. Your sleep pants are thin enough to where it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, and when Chan cants his hips up his bulge grinds right against your clit. He does it again, and again, until you’re squirming helplessly against him, panting and moaning into his mouth.

“Chan, we can’t do this…” you manage to stutter out between kisses, the reality of the situation finally beginning to dawn on you again. But Chan ignores your plea, his lips leaving yours to sear a path down your neck and shoulders. He nibbles at your skin, kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat, distracting you enough to slide one of his hands to cup your pussy.

“Yes we can.” He croons against your heated skin, hot tongue escaping between his lips to lick a tantalizing stripe up your neck. “I can feel how wet this pussy is, baby, how needy you are for me. Just let me in, princess, let me take care of you…”

He slides his fingers down your covered slit, your clothes sticking to your mound with your sopping juices, drenched to the point you can’t possibly hide your arousal. Your engorged clit aches, empty hole clenches around nothing… you whimper pathetically in defeat.

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.”

You really were nothing but an addict. Addicted to the power he holds over you.

“fuck, oh f-fuck— right there!”

Chan knows every single spot inside of you to make you scream, his thick cock hitting each one expertly with each of his powerful thrusts. The angle he has you bent in makes you see stars, his big rough hands clasped tight around your ankles to push your legs up against your chest and spread you wide open— he’s never fucked you this roughly before, his feet planted on the mattress to pound into you animalistically, but even then there’s still a bitter tenderness to the way he holds you up against him, gazes down at you in rapture as you fall apart beneath him.

“Yeah? Right there?” He coos, deep Aussie accent dripping with poisoned honey, “Feel me all the way in your tummy, baby? Feel this fat cock splitting you open? Fuck, you’re so tight, sucking me in. Greedy little cunt.” He lets go of one of your ankles to press down on the bulge he’s made in your belly, your trembling leg curling over his shoulder in ecstasy as the pressure in your core increases.

“So deep!” you hiccup stupidly in reply, fisting the sheets as your world explodes and shatters behind your eyelids. His bulbous cockhead slams repeatedly against your cervix in a punishing rhythm, so deep inside of you that you mindlessly fear that he’s pushed through and was fucking your womb. “Deep! S-so fucking big!”

Chan growls like a beast, his efforts doubling in speed and intensity, “Missed this cock, didn’t you, princess? God, listen to how fucking wet you are. Hear how badly this cunt needed me?”

He emphasizes his claim with a particularly harsh thrust, your pussy squelching obscenely around him and filling your dark, quiet bedroom with loud, filthy noises. “C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you worry that you’ll wake up the baby again. Chan fucks you loudly and shamelessly, like he doesn’t care that your daughter sleeps in the room just across the hall... the thought reignites your anger. You want to accost him, defy him, tell him that you didn’t miss him at all. That you weren’t desperate for him to make you cum and finally leave you satisfied after months of frustration. That you didn’t think of him at night when you played with yourself, or when you took another man to your bed, because as much as it agonizes you no other man has ever made you feel as good as he does. But you couldn’t string the words together, could hardly even think with how pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Besides, Chan knows when you’re lying.

“M-missed your c-cock,” you admit between whimpers and moans, your face burning with shame and arousal. “M-missed Daddy’s cock so fucking much, needed it so bad— oh, fuck, Chris, Daddy, please—!”

Chan snatches your hips and tugs you roughly towards him, lifting your bottom half up off the bed to fuck into you impossibly deeper. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of sweet agony, arching your back and tossing your head against the pillows. The show of sheer strength gets you impossibly wetter, your juices coating his heavy balls as they clap wetly against your ass. “Good pussy.” He grunts, his fingers digging bruising indents into the flesh of your waist. “Love this pretty little pussy— gonna fuck it ‘til it’s molded to my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone except for me. This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby? God, look at you… taking it like such a good girl.”

His words make your head spin, a searing need building in your core, molten lava beneath your skin heating your thighs and groin. It feels divine, better than you ever remember… but it’s not enough to send you over the edge, give you that release you crave so desperately. “Need more,” you keen, “More, Daddy, please!”

“Greedy girl.” Chan chuckles darkly, the sound going straight to your cunt. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t respond, fucked so stupid you don’t know what you’re begging for— Chan tsks like he’s disappointed, letting go of your hips with one hand to grab a rough fistful of your hair. He tugs your head up to look at him, dark eyes dripping with lust and delicious dominance; you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision swimming and your eyelids drooping from the onslaught of pleasure Chan continues to pound into you. “Too dumb on cock to speak? C’mon, pretty girl, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.”

He tugs on your hair again, pain erupting across your scalp. It blends with your pleasure to create a heady, dizzying cocktail of ecstasy. You cry out in delight, letting go of the bedsheets to scramble for something sturdier to hold on to, ground you— your hands find purchase on your own tits, bouncing with Chan’s thrusts, and you knead the plump flesh with a wanton sob, your fingers twisting and pinching at your nipples hard enough to make you shake.

“My clit!” you finally manage to whimper out, broken and pathetic. “My clit, my clit— touch me, touch my clit, please!”

He does as he promised, leaning back to spit messily on your clit before letting go of your hair to circle the bud with his thumb. Your head falls back limply onto the pillows, hazy eyes rolling back in your head as you sob and hiccup in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Gettin’ close, babygirl? I can feel it, pussy squeezing me so tight— I’m close too, fuck, gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you!” Chan’s thrusts grow sloppy, his chest heaving as he pants open-mouthed like a dog. “How about that, hm? Want me to put another baby inside of you? So everyone knows not to touch what’s mine? I’ll breed this pussy so fucking full you’ll be dripping my cum for days…”

His words should scare you, should break whatever spell he’s put you under and have you begging him to pull out. But you’ve slipped away from reality, floating mindlessly in an erotic fantasy you’ve convinced yourself is too good to be true. You don’t want to wake up, don’t want to think about what lies ahead of you once Chan leaves your bed once again. You babble and beg for his cum, for him to bring you to your own climax, scratching deep red marks into his chest. They look at home amongst all the bruises.

“Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down to barely moving, his cock dragging along your gummy walls deliciously buy far too slowly.

You blink up at him in shock and confusion. “H-huh?”

“Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum.” He repeats, his eyes boring into yours, a knowing look in his eyes like he can see into your soul. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna show it with all this cum I’m gonna pump into this sweet cunt… don’t you love me too? Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, what you need…”

You’re just on the precipice of orgasm, teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over, and your poor heart feels so exposed and raw… you can’t help but relent to him, succumb to his desires like you always do.

“I love you! I-I love you, Channie, Daddy, love you s-so much— ah!!”

His hips pick up to a speed that seems nearly superhuman, rutting into you wildly like an animal in heat as he grunts and groans, pinches your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger to make you scream. It feels so good, too good, and big watery tears roll down your cheeks as your body begins to vibrate with your orgasm. You’ve never cried during sex before.

“Let go, my love.” Chan croons, slapping your clit lightly. “Let it all out…”

Your orgasm hits you like a tsunami, a tidal wave of explosive hysteria— with a shriek you squirt everywhere, all over Chan’s hand, belly, thighs, creamy droplets flying with every nasty wet thrust. Your gummy walls spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper as if to ensure you milk him dry. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for daddy!” Chan howls, intent on talking you through it even as he creeps closer and closer to climax himself. “Fuck yes, such a good girl, making a mess for me— gonna cum now, too, gonna breed this pussy! Ready for it? Gonna take it all, right princess?”

“Yes! Yesyesyes, please, please! Give it to me, daddy!”

He shoots his load deep inside of you with an animalistic growl, hot and thick painting your walls creamy white. It feels never ending, fat cock twitching with every spurt of seed he dumps into your womb, filling you up so much that thick globs of it spills out around him and drips down his balls to mix with the puddle forming on the soaked bedsheets. His legs give out and he collapses against you, gasping for breath with his face buried in your chest; you wrap your weak, trembling arms around his neck, and the two of you dissolve into breathless giggles as you slowly grind against each other ride out your highs. When Chan finally pulls out you see a foamy white ring around the base of his softening cock, sticking in his pubes.

You can feel your spent cunt leak his seed, dripping down your ass— Chan stares at in in awe, his fingers sliding up your sensitive folds to collect it and push it back inside.

“So beautiful…” he whispers, grinning as he admires your creamy bred pussy. His fingers at your hole makes you whimper in overstimulation, and you try to close your legs and squirm away, making him laugh. His eyes crinkle in that adorable way you hate to love so much. “You’re so beautiful.”

You don’t have the heart to make him leave, not when he runs you a warm bath and cleans you up so nicely. Not when he strips the bed and changes the sheets for you so you can lay comfortably, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Not as he promises to you that he’ll change, that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in his arms, that white picket fences are just over the horizon. You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.

S𝒯RA𝒴 K𝒾DS 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼ @enigmaticaphrodite , @jellymochii , @dwaekkicidal , @11vr1 , @yunverie, @arcturus444, @love-ning

to join my taglist, please fill out my google form here, or send me an ask!

1K notes · View notes

gracefully33 · 1 year ago

Text

🛸Venus in Houses/Signs🛸

~ Venus represents our love language, fashion, beauty, dancing, attraction, lovers, self love, luxury items, music, etc.

Venus in Aries/1h:

| You could be attracted to people who are very fiery, bold, athletic, dominant, masculine, etc. Your love language could be acts of service like doing adventurous activities and more. You could be seen as very beautiful, talented, someone with self love. Your fashion could be very bold, very out there, you could wear athletic clothes, bold colors, and more. You could practice self love by building your confidence, upgrading your looks, working out, and more. You could listen to rock music, rap music, music that is energetic and upbeat, etc.

Ex: Rihanna has Aries Venus conjunct ASC

Venus in 2H/Taurus:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who are very patient, stand on their values, have self-love, determined, and more. When it comes to your fashion, you could wear tones of green, tones of earth colors, you could wear designer items, your fashion could be very laid back, etc. When it comes to your beauty, people could value your beauty, see you as high maintenance, very pretty, you might have soft features, you could really keep up with yourself, and more. Your dancing style could be very smooth, effortless, you could really take the time to learn the choreography, and more. You could practice self love by taking yourself shopping, buying high quality material things, singing, upgrading your self worth, creating stability for yourself, and more. Your music type could be very laid back, something that makes you feel valuable or good, you could listen to songs about material things, self worth, patience, love songs, etc.

Ex: Rich Girl ~ Gwen Stefani

Venus in 3H/Gemini:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who are talkative, know how to communicate, intelligent, playful, share interests with you, younger than you, you could meet your love interests in your neighborhood, school, social media, through your siblings, at a train station, bus, and more. Your love language could be words of affirmation and physical touch, because Gemini is Mercury ruled and Mercury represents communication and rules the hands. When it comes to your fashion, you could switch up your aesthetic a lot, have several aesthetics, versatile, tones of yellow, youthfulness, and more. When it comes to your beauty, you could be seen as younger than your age, youthful, baby face, and more. When it comes to learning choreography, you could have fun with it, you could play too much which could hinder you from learning the choreography😂, you could learn choreography very quickly, learn serval choreographies at the same time, and more. You could practice self love by having fun with yourself, upgrading your intelligence/knowledge, reading books, probably validation from social media which is dangerous, clearing your mind of negative thoughts that hinder your self worth, etc. You could listen to music that is playful, not serious, songs that stimulate your mind, songs about being strong minded, being playful, neighbors, traveling, etc.

Ex: Jennifer Lopez has her Venus in Gemini

Venus in 4h/cancer:

| You could be attracted to partners/people that remind you of home, your family, comforting, emotionally intelligent, sensitive, aware of their emotions, probably on the feminine side, you could meet your person through your family, hometown, during your self care procedure or journey, real estate industry, looking for homes, and more. Your fashion could be very feminine, soft, you could wear tones of blue, tones of white, long flowy dresses, and more. When it comes to your beauty, you could have very feminine features, your mom’s twin, soft features, and more. When it comes to choreography, you could put a lot of emotion into the moves, you could dance with emotion, your mood could affect the way you dance, you could do a lot of feminine choreography, dance with your family, etc. You could practice self love by being around your family, nurturing yourself, taking beauty advice from the women in your family, addressing your emotions, and more. You could listen to sad music, slow paced, music that brings out your emotions, brings out your inner child, remind you of your childhood, you could listen to songs about the mother, childhood, self care, and more. The luxury items you have could’ve been passed down through your family, from your mother, your father, etc.

Ex: Blue can be associated with Cancer

Venus in 5h/leo:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who are entertainers, pursuing music, pursuing acting, loyal, have a passion for acting, entertaining, creative, dramatic, romantic, and more. Your language could be gift receiving and acts of service, because you want your partner to prove themselves to you, show you that they want you instead of words, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could wear pieces that make you stand out, flashy outfits, glittery outfits, dramatic pieces, tones of oranges, and more. When it comes to your beauty, you could have big hair, stand out a lot, you shine from your beauty, cat like features, cat eyes, and more. You could receive luxury items that are well known, famous, make you stand out, and more. You could practice self love by indulging in your creative passions, having fun with your friends, indulging in things that bring out a child like spirit, learning to be in love with yourself, and more. You could listen to songs that are upbeat, extremely popular, songs that are about being loyal, prideful, relate to your pleasures, drama, romance, etc.

Ex: Someone could gift you a Chanel bag because it’s a well known brand

Venus in 6h/virgo:

| You could be attracted to partners/ people that are athletic, into fitness, consistent, get to be with everyday, analytical, humble, perfect, innocent, you could find love in the work place, gym, through your step family, and more. Your love language could be acts of service, because the 6h also represents services. When it comes to your fashion, you could wear neutral colors, girl next door aesthetic, earthy tones, earth aesthetic, and more. When it comes to beauty, you could look very youthful, soft features, smaller features, delicate features, and more. You could practice self love by investing a lot of time into yourself, fitness, health, and more. When it comes to music, you could listen to earthy type of music, indie, soft rock, music about fitness, health, things that relate to your everyday life, and more, Etc.

Ex: You could work out at the gym to build confidence in your body

Venus in 7H/Libra:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who very romantic, husband material, you could build a partnership with you, good looking, into fashion, beauty, and more. Your love language could be physical touch and gift giving. When it comes to fashion, you could wear tones of pink, Barbie aesthetic, baddie aesthetic, and more. You could be considered very beautiful or good looking because Venus represents beauty. When it comes to self love, you could invest into your makeup, clothes, nails, beauty, and more. You could listen to tons of love songs, artist collabs, songs about partnerships, when it comes to your music taste there could be a balance, and more. You could be gifted luxury items from your partner, husband, makeup, beauty products, etc.

Ex: Beyonce has a Libra Venus

Venus in 8H/Scorpio:

| You could attract partners/people who are extremely seductive, magnetic, into the occult, magic, investors, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could wear tones of black, dark clothing, gothic, alt, and more. When it comes to your beauty, you could have darker features, sharp features, seductive, magnetic, and more. When it comes to dancing, you could do sexy choreography, your dancing could be sharp, you could dance to songs about Scorpio themes, and more. You could listen to songs about sex, seductiveness, dark themes, occult, brave, power, obsession, metal music, rock music, etc.

Ex: Obsessed ~ Mariah Carey

Venus in 9H/Sagittarius:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who are adventurous, funny, wealthy, wise, photogenic, photographers, lawyers, different culture from you, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could explore a lot with your fashion choices, wear oversized clothings, and more. When it comes to your beauty, you could have larger features like bigger eyes, bigger forehead, lips, nose, and more. When it comes to dancing, you could explore different dancing styles. You could practice self love by traveling, increasing your knowledge, going on adventures, and more. You could receive luxury items that are from different countries, over the top expansive, receive more luxury items than usual, and more. You could listen to foreign music, popular/well known songs, songs about traveling, being adventurous, relate to your beliefs, etc.

Ex: Kpop aka Korean Pop

Venus in 10h/Capricorn:

| You could attract partners/people who are authority figures, CEOs, your bosses, seen as a higher status, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could wear business attire a lot, professional clothings, tones of brown, tones of gray, basic, and more. When it comes to beauty, you could be on the smaller side, strong bone structure, bare face beauty, and more. When it comes to learning choreography, you could take longer to learn choreography, have issues with learning it, work hard to get it on lock down, and more. When it comes to self love, you could invest into your career, legacy, status, and more. You could listen to rnb, alternative, old school class music, songs about being a boss, authority figure, legacy, and more. You get receive luxury items that are hard for people to get their hands on, etc.

Ex: You could be with a CEO of a banking company

Venus in 11h/Aquarius:

| You could be attracted to partners/people who are in your friend group, associates, social group, engineer, politicians, dream man, humanitarian, rebellious, unique, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could wear unique pieces, you could wear pieces that go against fashion norms, your friend group could influence your style, and more. When it comes to your beauty, your beauty could be very unique, out the word, and more. You could practice self love with your friends, be in a self love group, being nice to yourself, and more. You could receive luxury items that are unique and innovative. When it comes to your dancing, you could have a unique dancing style, sometimes you could switch the choreography up, and do your own thing. You could like EDM music, electronic music, futuristic music, songs about helping others, being rebellious, friend ships, etc.

Ex: You could indulge in futuristic fashion and trends

Venus in 12h/Pisces:

| You could attract partners/people who are glamorous, ethereal, spiritual, self sacrifice a lot, creative, could be delusional about your partners, and more. When it comes to fashion, you could do mermaid core, tones of people, y2k, old school trends, and more. Your beauty could be seen as unreal, ethereal, glamorous, siren like beauty, and more. You could practice self love by indulging in spirituality, isolating yourself, taking care of your mental health, reflecting on your past, cutting off people or things that don’t serve you, and more. You could receive luxury items that people do not know about or that are hidden. You could listen to indie, electronic, rnb, alternative music, songs that make you forget about your reality, mental health, hidden things, isolation, etc.

Ex: Y2K/MC Bling

#astro community #astro placements #astrology #asteroid #degrees in astrology #astrology degrees

2K notes · View notes

flightrising · 9 months ago

Text

Video description under the cut!

[VIDEO DESCRIPTION] This video is comprised of a still image with audio. The image background is the same ocean as before with the storm clouds rolling in and waves crashing. In the foreground is a deep green-blue hat with gold trim seated in profile on an algae-covered rock. The hat appears boat-shaped with a tall rounded side, and on the side is a red and beige circle with markings that resemble a compass. On the hat and possibly making up the top of the hat is a combination of long seaweed fronds, a large purple conch, red coral, a dark orange starfish, and along the back side keeping everything contained is what looks like a chain of three large pearls in pink, white, and pale gold. The video's audio is comprised of the sounds of waves crashing with a low, strong wind, and a lone seagull calling. The still image transitions to the Flight Rising logo as lofi tonal percussion begins to play. The words Saturday June 8, 2024 appear above the logo. Below the logo the overlaid text reads: Scheduled Maintenance 04:00-06:00 server time and Anniversary event begins 06:00 server time.

#Flight Rising #FlightRising #FR #Teaser #Hype Responsibly #Scheduled Maintenance #Virtual Pet #Game #Anniversary

273 notes · View notes

4pfsukuna · 1 year ago

Text

omfg bruhhhhh

yall want me to believe Choso “on sight before his feet even land on the floor” Kamo is some pathetic whiney crybaby? Like why is every fic so… ugh i want him to fight back. Somebody please tag me or drop a link for assertive/ aggresive/ dominant choso! (Prefferably black reader)

like do i gotta write it myself?

Choso who meets you when you both come in late at night its 2am and youre standing in the hall talking about whatever the hell a middle part buss down is. He doesnt care he just wish you werent so loud… in your shared hall.

you glare at him because who was he talking too! You pay the same amount of rent as him and to damn much at that they should be lucky you werent in the lounge making ramen watching their t.v right now.

It doesnt get better when you bang on his door asking him to turn his music down cause why was he playing last resort by papa roach at 3:30am on a wednesday. He opens the door in a hoodie and tight calvin klein boxers and your eyes drift for a second until the next rock song starts up this time in japanese and he has the audacity to have an annoyed expresion with you!

”did you want something or did you just want to stare” he glares annoyed with a steady voice though youre expecting him to snap.

“Who answers the door in their boxers have some decorum” you respond half embarassed that he caught you. “And your music is loud… some of us have jobs in the morning” and you storm off not leaving any room for backtalk.

the next time he sees you is a few days later when youre both rushing out and slam into another his shirt and leather jacket falling to the floor with your purse falling sending your wallet down the hall and lip gloss shattering that dior gloss was not cheap.

”are you fucking kidding me” he hisses and you notice hes shirtless silver bars through his nipples and a few tattoos littered across his chest.

”you got a real stairing problem there princess” which makes you smirk.

“you look like a 1st grade art project… line work isnt half bad its just the asshole its attatched to” you retort collecting your items not realizing a few slipped from your wallet.

it was maintenance day you didnt have time to worry about shit it was hair lashes nails toes and a fresh tattoo and belly piercing your friend finally found an artist that did both and had clean work.

youre all smiles and sunshine walking into C.K. Parlor even enjoying the convo with the pink haired male receptionist whos so sweet mentioning this was his brothers shop but something about this guy looks familiar.

“Hes so hot” your friend gushes making you turn around and groan at the sight of your annoying ass neighbor.

”couldnt get enough bothering me home so you come here” he teases but theres something so stoicly calm about his anger… its more so mild annoyance.

”i actually came to get a tattoo and piercing but i think ill pass” you speak not wanting to admit you actually loss your credit card but youre here for moral support for your friend who now that you look at her looks like she doesnt need it.

”youre already here dont tell me youre chicken… come on ill even do it for free”

”free?” Oh that had your attention.

“mhmmm lets call it a truce no more loud… anything just being good neighbors”

and its not long before youre on the table the design being shaded into your spine and he admires how you just take it… his mind does begin to drift to if you can take anything else when he notices how pretty you look today.

he actually loves white on your toes and the crisp french tip on your hands. Its when he notices the snake tattoo wrapped around your wrist that he realizes you might be interesting and not just some stuck up—

“you wanted your belly pierced too right?” He ask and if someone wouldve told you that youd be half dressed infront of your neighbor Today you wouldnt believe it. Hes professional and doesnt even glance at the double d’s you have in your lace bra… ok he did but you didnt notice at all.

you thought you seen his ears burn red but hes quick to turn away disposing of the needle and your completely suprised by how soft and careful his hands are… ahem he is.

”and maybe we can actually be nice to another” he says softly holding out your credit card that you dropped earlier.

your truce last all of 5 days. It wasnt your fault meg the stallion announced she was going on tour and you couldnt help the screams of joy and to blast her music.

you dont expect anyone to bang on your door or barge in when you open it.

”excuse the fuck out of me” you hiss slamming your door facing him when you notice hes looking past your face and down at your body.

you were wearing a dark purple lace bra and underwear the silver belly ring he initially put in switched out for a dangly silver one with a dragon that matched your tattoo and yes it was to early to change.

”my eyes are up here”

”please. Nothing i havent seen before princess actually it kind of looks like the black one” he smirks watching the fury in your eyes as you look for something to cover up.

”get the fuck out”

he saunters (the god damn audacity) out but not without pressing his whole body into you as if the walkway wasnt wide enough making sure to press himself into your ass leaning down to your ear.

”good night princess” and you dont have to look at him to know hes smirking but that raspy voice does something to you.

that night you go to bed with 3 orgasms… what dont make that face you had a voice kink and couldnt help it.

he smirks when he sees you the next day and you try to ignore him as he unlocks his car door.

”sleep well? You know the walls are thin and im sure our bedrooms share a wall”

you make a mental note to get on apartment finder tonight.

”im sure that was your first time ever hearing a womans moans outside of porn” you hiss back you werent no weak bitch.

and he wasnt a cliche man his taunts went further then just an insult back, hed give you more content for tonight. After all he was helping you help him.

”just be a good girl for me and let me hear everything tonight alright princess” he utters in a deep octave that makes your breathing stutter and you cant form a proper sentence and any insult is going to be childish.

you of course try to walk off but he grabs your arm pulling you closely his large hand spreading across your lower back.

”did i say i was done… look up at me” and you bite your lip to keep your jaw off the floor this man was wicked and you were not about to play with a devil.

”youre such a pretty mess” he adds in watching the gloss in your eyes before you come to your senses pushing him off heading fown the street.

”wrong direction princess” and you were headed the other way but you should probably just head back inside to change underwear.

and if he could hear you through the wall you were going to put on a show, you make sure even whine moan groan whimper and cry can be heard through these thin ass walls honestly you were so sensitive from overstimulating yourself… It was his fault.

You do everything in your power to avoid him the next few days that post nut clarity knocking some sense into you.

You actually have no idea how wrecked he’s been. How wrecked you had him! He needs to hear it again.

he might turn slightly yandere for you. its when you get a call at 1am and of course youre up you had actually just got out the shower.

”is this your payback” he hisses into the phone though you arent sure what hes talking about.

”how the fuck did you get my number? Doesnt matter bye”

“stop it just listen” he grunts catching your attention “i just need you to be a good girl for me just once i promise” he nearly begs and you have a wicked idea of what he’s doing on the other side of the phone.

you listen to every command, praise and groan his sultry voice lets out your fingers and sheets soaked

“you did such a good job baby, you deserve a reward how about you cum for me” he grunts sending both of you to your end him losing it to the sound of your orgasm.

“i wanna take you out on a date” and thats when you hang up not in the mood for his antics.

hes serious though, he takes you to the finest seafood restaurant with expensive alcohol you cant pronounce he even gets you a dress to wear, suprising you with a new dior lip gloss…3 actually.

”thats how many times you orgasmed through the wall the first night…” you thank God for your brown skin and him not being able to see you blush. He genuinely takes the time for you to get to know another subtly throwing in praises.

by the time you get back to the car your a wreck hair frizzing from your body overheating already.

your legs are rubbingg together and he spreads them guiding your hand down.

“Be a good girl for me and show me how pretty you look when you cum”

You happily comply watching as his hands fidget while driving

When he gets you back to his place your clothes are off and your back is against his fluffy comforter, not that you had time to notice but his whole room is black.

Hes a certified munch and will eat you until youre lightheaded. He eats you out on your back, makes you ride his face, eats you from the back he has you in 7 different positions from head alone.

He gives the deepest stroke while telling you how pretty you are for him the most filthies things he can mutter in your ear giving you back shots the pillow under your stomach propping you up as he plays with your clit begging for you to cum.

you black out and hes not far behind but makes sure to clean you with a warm rag and throws a tshirt on you.

He loves waking up to you and will actually barge in your home or bring you over to his.

He has his own stubborn ways which you will sometimes talk your best shit which he loves, he needs his woman to be on go not some docile lil weakling.

and sometimes he fights back!

#Choso kamo #choso x black!reader #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader

150 notes · View notes

flowerbetweenfangs · 9 months ago

Text

Cream Filling: Chapter Seven

This is part of an ongoing series. You can read the previous part here!

“No,” Ramses said flatly. He turned away from her.

“Please!” Elle half-whined, throwing her arms around his shoulders. She had to lean into the grab to do it.

“Right here?” Ramses pulled her out of the booth and started to walk toward the loft. Elle took a few stumbling steps after him. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from face planting onto the floor. His grip was firm and wet, the inky residue seeming to drip more in his irritation.

Chorus’ laughter increased in volume from the kitchen but Ramses didn’t break stride. Various pots and pans began to bang around as the demon started the prep for the bar’s opening.

“I’ll be your best friend!” Elle insisted, squeezing Ramses’ hand tighter as they walked.

“Friendship has nothing to do with it!” Ramses insisted as they stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Shadow covered them both as magic hummed behind him. The sign’s wards floated upward, giving a visual warning before he stepped further.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble!” He insisted, looking over her shoulder. Scratching at the bandages wrapped around his face, he started to pull them loose and they came to a stop at the stairs in front of the loft.

Elle groaned and leaned against the railing. Her arms were smeared with black. It quickly dried and she picked up a rag and started to wipe it off.

“Come on. Just once. That’s all I’m asking.” She scrubbed vigorously as Ramses unwound more bandages.

With a frustrated groan Ramses rolled his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and crossed his arms. The corner of his lip twitched in irritation, showing white flashes of fangs. His head tilted side to side as he seemed to weigh out her proposition.

“Fine. Chorus and I need help on Fridays.” He held up a single bandaged finger, shaking it in warning. More ichor dripped between the wrappings.

“You will work one night shift. I need you during the day.”

“Yes!” Elle pumped her fist and smiled. She rocked on the balls of her feet, about to throw her arms around Ramses, but she caught herself at the last second. Flattening her feet, she grinned ear to ear.

“I won’t let you down!”

Ramses pushed his glasses up and rubbed his face. Miraculously, he didn’t smear any of the sludge onto the lenses. He slipped off the rest of the wrappings and stayed in the shadows. He moved to the bar.

“Why do you want to work the night shift anyway?” Sitting on his haunches, he pulled out a pair of gloves from a basket under the bar.

He stood and knocked against the barrels behind the counter, then put an ear to them. Pulling out a pen and paper, he began to scribble down notes.

“Simple,” Elle stayed on the opposite side of the counter, but leaned over it. She put her index finger and thumb together, rubbing them vigorously.

“I know it pays well.”

Another eyeroll, but Ramses kept silent. He pulled out bottles of alcohol and various other drinks and started to arrange them on the counter.

“My lease is almost up at my new place!” Elle continued, leaning further of the counter. She put her weight on her hands.

“They’re going to raise the rent if I renew with them,” She’d seen the new price and about choked. After a quick bit of research, she figured with gas and maintenance to the clunker, she may as well move out closer to the Mammon district. It had been multiple sessions of budgeting and number crunching. While she hadn't secured a new lease just yet, she knew it would be better for herself to do it.

“So, I figured I may as well move closer to my job. I have to be pragmatic.” She put a hand to her chest.

“And a certain demon I know likes to take care of his employees!”

Ramses shot her a look and sighed. He combed his gloved fingers through his hair, then pulled a ribbon out of his vest pocket and started to tie it back. The way his fangs poked out past his lips, lightly digging into the ribbon had her reaching for a menu and starting to fan herself with it.

Thankfully it had been warm out as well. The summer season had resulted in an uptick in business, with the summer solstice on the way. While she still only worked days, poor Aki had to swing back and forth as the “extra pair” of hands.

She’d stayed the night over at his apartment and gotten a look at the envelope containing his tips for working an open to close and about screamed at the amount. Instead, she had gasped loud enough for him to hear over his hair dryer. The cat boy had thrown the bathroom door open so hard she thought it was about to rip off the hinges.

And looked a mixture of impressed and annoyed when she explained.

With a sigh, Ramses rapped his knuckles against his brow. Wiggling his fingers, he murmured to himself. His pointed ears wiggled, and he nodded as if he’d just answered a question.

“Tell you what, if you and Chorus get along–”

“I don’t mind her!” Chorus called from the kitchen as meat began to sizzle. Smoke began to billow out of the kitchen window. Whether it was due to the season or the equipment, the room began to get hot.

“She��s fast and gets the job done, just like you said the human would. That’s all I need to know.”

Elle’s cheeks burned at the frankness of the statement. Sweat trickled down her brow and she wasn’t sure if it was from the praise or the heat.

“-we’ll see about getting something arranged. Just…” Ramses’ tone suggested that he was one step away from jumping the counter and going to the kitchen to give the other demon a piece of his mind. Probably throw in a few punches.

His fangs grazed his lower lip. Crimson drops welled on it. Wincing, he picked up a towel from the counter and pressed it to his mouth. Black and red marbled in the fabric as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Be careful, alright?” He put his free hand on her shoulder, voice muffled by the cloth. “Between the Dryders, Tanpopo… Ash… ” His eyes narrowed and he spat the incubus’ name out like it was a dirty word. Lowering the towel, he twisted to the sink and let more blood drip out of his mouth. His hand never left her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine.” Elle waved a hand in front of her, finally releasing the demon’s grip.

“I’m sure you guys are more than capable!” She unzipped her purse and pulled out her protective charm. It gave off a comforting glow, a vibrating pulse going through the chain and her fingers. While she had stopped wearing it around her neck at during the day to keep it from zapping Aki, she wasn’t about to be stupid.

“This too, remember?”

Ramses didn’t flinch. He stared at the necklace, then sighed.

“You can’t wear that while we’re open. You’re going to upset customers.”

Elle frowned and looked at the charm. He was right. While the morning customers didn’t seem to do much to set it off, she thought about how demons would be coming out at night. It’d be like running around the room and spritzing patrons with holy water. Or a UV light.

“The maid uniform will have to go,” Chorus said as he came in, tapered claws threaded through the handles of what looked like a dozen beer steins.

She found her mind drifting to how dexterous his hands could be at other things.

No. Boss’ best friend and business partner! Above you!

Then her mind started to drift to just how above the demon could be, and various other positions.

No! Focus!

Elle looked down at her attire, trying to distract herself. It would be weird wearing something else to work. Sure, she wore casual clothing for the catering job, but…

Her eyes went to the vest and tie both men were wearing. Would she have to wear the same?

“What’s wrong with my uniform?” It was stained and dirty from the day shift, and Ramses grabbing, but nothing a quick wipe down or change of apron couldn’t fix.

“Nothing,” Chorus assured her, flitting back to the kitchen again. More dishes clinked and clattered as he moved around. How he ran both stations, she couldn’t say. Maybe him speaking in multiple voices meant he had just as many areas of expertise? He was older…

“But a vest and scarf would help add a sense of unity in our clothing. Make us appear more professional.” Chorus poked his head out of the kitchen window as flamed burst behind him. He paused, scratching at the prongs in his horns. They were charred and cracked from the summer sun. The burnt pieces came off in chunks, but it didn’t seem to be causing the demon any pain. Maybe he was like a deer who shed their antlers?

Chorus collected the pieces into a towel and folded it up. There was a bright flash and a wave of heat that made her hair stand on end. It happened so quickly Elle didn’t even have time to flinch away.

When her eyes readjusted, the demon’s hand was empty, and the air smelled like burnt meat. He flexed his fingers and wiggled some soot and ash free. It glowed and never touched the ground.

“Nekokuro also had to get a uniform for the night shift as well,” Chorus continued. “You may have seen it.”

Elle inhaled sharply and found herself looking around at other parts of the restaurant.

“And to put it into terms you would probably find the most agreeable: More money.”

“Well, you could have led with that.” Elle thought about the day crew. She was always at the front counter and lobby. Wrecks and Horac were in the kitchen the entire shift. Aki ran in and out of both areas, but he still only wore a button up shirt and bow tie.

“We should have some spares downstairs.” Chorus headed to the top of the entrance to the basement. He paused at the top step, hand on the rail. “Which reminds me, did we ever add you to the ward to give you access?”

Elle pondered the question. She’d never had to go down into the basement. Sometimes she forgot the restaurant even had one. Everything she needed was in the work fridge or in the immediate area upstairs. The delivery and food trucks always dropped off supplies in quantities that never required (or lasted long enough with how busy they were) going into overstock.

She looked at Ramses with a raised brow.

“... An oversight on my part,” He sheepishly admitted. As he scratched the back of his head, he nervously chuckled and started to turn red. “What’s your size again?”

They headed to the basement. Elle could feel the threshold spring up when she ventured too close. Stopping, she waited for Ramses to dismantle the ward so she could walk through.

Their footsteps echoed as they descended down the stairs.

“Hope you don’t mind it being a little cold.” Even as he spoke, a small fog came out of Ramses mouth.

Elle rubbed her arms. It figured. There were probably more ingredients down here that needed to be kept cool for storage, on top of basements just being cold in general. She half expected to see frost forming on the walls.

They got to the last stair. A second threshold sprung up and it was like Elle stepped on a springboard. It launched her back to the top of the stairs. Energy crackled around her, and an ancient power loudly hummed.

Chorus grunted when she slammed into him. They both stumbled back, but the demon managed to find his footing.

“Are you alright, Elle?” A legion of voice asked, making her head spin.

“Fine…” She put a hand to the side of her head and took a few teetering steps to the booth. Her entire body felt like she’d jammed each joint.

“Sorry!” Ramses was at her side. “You remember how I said people were sneaking up to the loft? Well… We had more people trying to poke around in the basement. It’s been so long since I’ve had to give someone permission to go down there I just… Forgot.”

Elle shook her head. Her hands were shaking, even laid flat on the table.

“I’ll uh… Pay you triple overtime.”

***

“Night shift!?” Wrecks nearly dropped his cigarette. He overcompensated and clenched his jaw, spraying the area in front of him with embers and ash.

“Shepard, are you crazy!?” He rubbed his forelegs and hands together, mumbling to himself about how it was a bad idea. The cloud of smoke around him began to envelop them both.

Elle stepped back and waved a hand through the air, coughing. Now she’d have to wash her uniform three times to get the stink out. Maybe having a spare wouldn’t be a bad idea…

He waved his arms with her and winced.

“I’ll be fine!” Elle insisted. She grabbed his forelegs with one hand and his wrists with the other, having to stand on her toes to do so. Even then, she only came up to just above his navel.

“You’re working yourself up.”

The phrase made the Drider’s body go taut under her touch.

“This isn’t the day crowd,” Wrecks warned as he took a long drag off the cigarette, burning it down to the butt. Without pausing, he lit up another and took another puff. His hands shook as he did.

“Demons will be at their peak power! And not to mention all the creatures that come out in the dark.” He rubbed his forehead in a pattern that pulled the bottom of his eyes down.

“I’m with Peter Darker here,” Aki’s voice came from above. The lid of the dumpster creaked as he hopped down from the roof. He held another paper doll by its neck. It caught fire and turned into a puff of smoke. Shaking his hands, he wiped them on his pants.

Elle groaned and let go of Wrecks, who was mumbling in confusion at the name he'd been addressed by.

When was the kitsune going to let up? She wasn’t even sure what the dolls were supposed to do. But if Aki pouncing on them caused a small bit of fire, it probably wasn’t good.

Aki jumped down from the dumpster with a grunt and sat on his haunches in front of it.

“I know you guys mean well,” Elle sighed and crossed her arms. “but I’ve got to make sure I can get some funds together before my lease is up.”

The thought of taking out another loan or going back into debt when her head was about to breach the surface made her chest feel tight.

Every time her phone rang, she was hoping it was Ash, telling her that they’d finally found Adrian and she could sleep a little easier. She’d paid off the charm and the table. Moving out of the studio and into something closer was going to do wonders for her mental health.

“Just don’t quit the day shift over it!” Wreck’s forelegs went back to rubbing together. “I–”

“We’d miss you.” His eyes flicked back and forth between Aki and Horac in the kitchen.

“It’s just a temporary thing!” Elle assured him. “I’ll work this Friday night into Saturday morning, and I’ll have all of Sunday off!”

And if things went well, then it could become something a little more permanent. She tried to imagine her nights ahead, actually being able to save some money and possibly buy something a little more extravagant, maybe a new wardrobe and make up. Actually live somewhere where she had walls around her bed, not just a large open area.

“Don’t forget you’re still human,” Aki crossed his arms, ears flat against his head. “Despite the company you keep. All the money in the world won’t mean anything if you’re too sick to enjoy it.”

His tail thrashed behind him, drumming the metal of the dumpster and filling the area with a bassy echo.

“You can crash at my place if you really are worried about a living space.”

“Mine is a little farther and more secluded, but it’s private!” Wrecks added. “And Horac has a whole house to himself, except when his daughters come over…”

“I’m not going to put you all out like that!” Elle waved her hands through the air as another cloud of smoke covered her. She shot a dirty look at Wrecks, who stubbed out his cigarette and stuck it back in the carton.

Despite her protests, she did feel happy knowing that they all were willing to offer up what they had. Ironic that she found some of the most generous people in the city overrun by the demon brother who represented greed.

Before she could open up her mouth to argue further, Horac bellowed:

“Lunch rush is coming! Get your scrawny asses back in here! If I’m late for another one of Izzy's soccer games or Jojo's dance recitals, I’m not going to let any of you forget it!”

***

Elle wove through the crowds, balancing one tray in each hand. One held drinks, the other plates of food. They rattled as she made sharp turns and jerks to avoid limbs, tails, and the occasional tentacle whipped into her path. Most of the occupants of the bar towered over her. It wasn’t a contest of who would win if they bumped into one another.

Miraculously, she hadn’t dropped anything. There had been a couple close calls and stumbles, but she managed to plant her foot down just in time. Part of her wished she had Wrecks’ extra legs. Or Aki’s ability to just parkour his way around things. It would be easier to just climb up through the loft at this rate.

So many people had packed into the tiny space. Quartz had been placed on tables, with a large piece in the middle of the floor. They glowed with magic, projecting images of a pair of minotaurs engaging in what looked like gladiatorial combat.

Elle couldn’t keep up with it, but occasionally she caught the two asterians clashing with one another, punctuated by cheers and jeers that shook the entire bar. Then she was there to top off drinks and refill more food. Most didn’t seem to even notice her until she was right beside them. Aside from a few startled expressions, most had been cheerful and polite.

She made a day’s worth of tips in two hours.

“You’re doing well,” Ramses assured her as he loaded drinks onto the tray. “The Asterian fights always draw in big crowds like this.”

“Talk about a baptism by fire!” Elle giggled nervously, feeling the smile become strained as she tried to hold it. Her legs were killing her, and she was sure that she’d be sleeping over at Aki’s tonight. The thought of driving made her want to fall on the floor right there.

“They can get a little rowdy, but if any of them put their hands on you, let me know.” Shadows moved across the wall behind him. His eyes caught the light to make them look like burning coals.

Elle’s cheeks flushed and she nodded.

“Oi, human!” An ogre bellowed. “Can we get a pitcher of Merale?”

“Coming right up!” Elle called back, putting on her cheery ‘customer service’ voice. It felt weird being addressed in such a way after having so many regulars who called her by name on the day shift.

Ramses poured something from one of the many barrels into a copper pitcher, then placed it on the tray with the rest of the drinks. One of the people at the bar called for him, and he whirled around to face them.

Chorus’ arm stretched out from the kitchen window and placed another entree onto a waiting tray. The demon then came out and picked up the drink tray. He was a blur through the crowd, whipping up a breeze behind him. A few patrons twisted to try and see when he stirred their hair or clothes.

You’re still human, despite the company you keep.

Elle grabbed the pitcher and was on the move. The liquid that sloshed around inside smelled foul. When it caught the light, it looked red and thick. There was red crust around the rim when she reached the table. Before she could put it down, it was snatched from her grip by a large green hand. The liquid sloshed, the ogre who had called her drank it down in only a few gulps.

“Girlie!” Another ogre flashed a copper coin in her face. She didn’t recognize what currency it belonged to. It was roughly minted, values looked like they had been scratched on.

“Who should I bet on? Earthshaker or Thunderhoof?” His eyes were eager, lips drawing back to reveal sharp tusks. His wild mane was pulled back into a tail, but the ribbon he’d used was frayed and looked ready to snap.

No, Elle! Customer! Focus!

More coins gleamed on the table. There was metallic clinking as stacks quickly formed a haphazard pile as the minotaurs clashed above. She couldn’t tell who was who. As the money climbed higher, she could feel the tension in the room start to rise.

“Uh… Earthshaker.” She said quickly, the name coming out as a squeak. Ducking away she headed back to the bar. When her back was turned, there was another triumphant yell.

Once she was behind the bar, she dropped on her haunches and took in a deep breath. Only a few more hours of this and she could head home.

“You look like you could use a break,” Ramses dropped next to her. “If you want to go home early, there’s nothing–”

“I can handle it!” She said, perhaps too loud and quickly. She tried to keep herself from grimacing at how hastily she’d yelled.

He raised a brow.

“I just need a moment to catch my breath. A bit different than what I’m used to, it all!”

“Alright. Go ahead and take your fifteen minute break.” Ramses straightened and began to chat with someone in front of the counter.

Elle shuffled for a few steps, then popped back up and quickly headed for the basement. There wasn’t an empty booth for her to sit in, and there was no way she’d hand around outside in the dark. If she went to her car, she might fall asleep.

The threshold crackled as she passed it. Sparks of energy shot up around her, bathing the concrete walls in red and purple light. It illuminated the room just enough to see, although Elle didn’t have to go very far.

Her purse was hanging on a hook next to the door. She pulled it off and unzipped it to check her phone. There were two messages. Neither from Ash.

‘Wanna die yet? :p’ From Aki. ‘I warned you. Nights suck. =^.^=;’

‘I hope you’re safe.’ From Wrecks. ‘If you want to call in tomorrow, let me know so I can tell Horac.’

More cheers from upstairs. As they echoed off the walls, Elle could hear another humming coming from deeper within the basement. It was followed by a loud snap, someone cracking the spine of a book.

Holding up her phone, she turned on the flashlight and saw a doorway at the opposite end of the room.

The door was wide open. Something glinted as the light swept over it.

Venturing closer, she saw that it was a strip of metal around a wooden bin. Blinking rapidly, she stared at them. They were all over the room, filled with various pieces of clothing. A few buttons and accessories sparkled when the light hit them.

When she hovered in the doorway, she saw the area was filled from floor to ceiling with the bins. None of them seemed to have any sort of lid on them. There were a few folded up shirts and vests inside. More uniforms. The fabric was smeared with black sludge.

She swept the light around the room, and jumped back when she saw white fangs. Reddish drool dripped between them. Nostrils flared on a scaled snout. A red eye with a slit pupil stared right at her.

The light washed over it, and Elle realized it was a painting. A black scaled dragon who was perched on a pile of gold, his claws clenching the coins.

“Greedy Mammon Guards His Lair.” Was engraved on a golden plaque beneath it.

While Elle had never seen the Prince or any of his proxies, it didn’t surprise her that they chose a dragon to represent him. It fit. A greedy creature to match the sin he was named after.

Sighing, she shook her head. No wonder Ramses hadn’t told her about this place. He probably knew she would snoop around. Although the painting of the dragon was unexpected. The eyes bore into her accusingly.

Rubbing her face, Elle tucked a few stray bangs behind her ears. It was late and the night was starting to get to her.

The hum of power grew louder, almost tantalizingly so. Elle hesitated at the doorway.

The fifteen minutes were up, and Elle flew back up the stairs.

***

When the fights ended, the bar quickly cleared out.

As she collected empty plates and cups, Elle sighed in relief.

Despite the exhaustion and aches rolling through almost every muscle, she felt good. Once she made it through the day shift, she was going to soak in the tub and not come out until she looked like a raisin.

Once she’d gathered everything onto a tray she started to head back to the kitchen. The dishes rattled noisily with her movement now that the area was empty.

Chorus chatted with a few ogres at the entrance, slowly shifting his body more and more to push them out of it. Then, one of the group caught sight of Elle and made a beeline for her. It was the one who had asked for her to make a bet. He held up a few shimmering coins between his fingers. Judging from his smile, he’d won.

“You were right!” He said triumphantly. The reek of alcohol on him made Elle stagger back a step. Her eyes watered and she wished she could cover her nose. She debated setting the trays down and blinked rapidly, trying to clear up her vision.

“Earthshaker got a second wind and took out Thunderhoof with a classic one two.” He mimed the punch, his fist whipping by her face.

Elle flinched and the tray fell to the floor with a crash.

“Elle!” Ramses was at her side in an instant.

“You should probably go.” Chorus said, prodding the ogre on the shoulder. The claws sunk into the top few layers of skin and drew blood. The ogre winced, but quickly turned and left, leaving his winnings scattered all over the floor.

“Are you alright?”

She was being carried bridal style over to the bar. The words didn’t register, and she found her mouth opening and closing as she tried to respond.

Ramses plunked her down on a stool. Grabbing another, he sat it in front of Elle and propped her left up on it. He pulled a rag from his belt. His fingers were warm as they touched her ankle, rolling it back and forth.

Putting a hand on her skirt, Elle kept the fabric from hiking up as he lifted up her leg and continued his inspection. A rumble that came from him made her hair stand on end. He caught himself, eyes wide.

“That wasn’t directed at you. That was…” He looked over his shoulder at the door. “I told you if a customer put their hands on you–”

“I’m fine.” She finally said, shaken out of her thoughts. “He didn’t touch me. He came close though.”

White hot pain went up her right calf. Looking down, she saw blood dripping onto the floor. Crimson bloomed on her tights, seeping into the nylon. A few glass shards were sticking out of her leg. Despite the blood, it didn’t look terribly deep.

Ramses moved quickly, plucking them dexterously. The glass shredded the gloves he was wearing, and his sludge began to drip onto the floor, mixing with her blood.

She took the rag and held it to her leg as he went to the sink and washed off the worst of the sludge, discarding the gloves without a word. He sighed.

“Do you want me to call a healer to come down here?”

“After hours? No. I can’t afford that.”

“Elle.” He said sharply, before sighing. “It’s a work injury, I’ll cover the cost.” He looked over his shoulder at Chorus, who had collected most of the dishes and swept the floor. The other demon paused in his work, leaning on a broom as he watched the two of them.

“Go home, I’ll finish things up here.”

Chorus nodded and left without another word. The lock clicked as he left. Thresholds snapped into place. The lights dimmed, and the last projections from the quartz crystals blinked out. They glowed with heat and magic, before dimming.

“I have a first aid kit,” Ramses explained. “It’s… Potent. It can get the job done, but it’ll sting. Can you hold on long enough for me to get it?”

“I’m cut, not helpless.” Blood seeped through the fabric and smeared on her fingers. There were still flares of pain, but at least she could collect her thoughts. She tossed the rag into the sink as Ramses handed her a new one.

“I will call a healer if you want me to-”

“No!” She insisted. “If you have a first aid kit, just use that.” So much paperwork and questions that she didn’t want to answer. It had taken so much to get the papers and documents needed to separate her from the academy and Adrian.

“Okay. Stay right here.” He went down into the basement.

Elle put her forehead to her knee, calf throbbing as she clutched it tight. Where was he expecting her to go? He could just follow the blood trail and see her hobbling away. That was assuming she was able to get anywhere before she collapsed from pain or lightheadedness.

“You bound me with your blood, not power.”

Elle jerked her head up, heart pounding.

The lobby was empty.

Sighing, she made a mental note to stick with days from now on. It seemed like the universe was telling her that she was biting off more than she could chew.

Stripping off her tights, she winced as the nylon tugged at dried areas. She only just managed to get them off when Ramses was back, carrying her purse and a bright red bag with a medical logo on the side.

He set the kit down on the counter and began to rifle through it, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

“When are you planning on moving?” He suddenly asked.

“As soon as I have a place.” Elle lifted her leg and stopped squeezing the rag. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed down enough that she didn’t have to apply pressure. “I’ll try to make sure I get everything moved on a day I have off.”

Ramses pulled the rag off. It stuck to Elle’s skin, and he winced apologetically when he had to pull it loose. Once he’d set it down and assembled a line of tools, he pulled off his vest and passed it over to her.

She stared at it, raising a brow.

“I’m going to be right between your legs.” He shook it insistently. “So you’re not exposed.”

“I’m wearing underwear and you’ve seen me naked before.” Elle shrugged and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She took the vest and laid it across her thighs. Of all the things to be worried about right now…

“That was different,” Ramses insisted, starting to wipe off the dried blood. “You were drugged.”

He shook a bottle against a gauze pad, still holding her leg with his other hand. His grip was tight enough that his hands were shaking. If he hadn’t been wearing gloves, it probably would have slipped out of his grip.

“You make it sound so sinister.” Elle winced as he moved her leg to get a better look at it. “It wasn’t like–”

“This will sting.”

Before Elle could say not to worry, he pressed it to her calf. It was like he’d pressed a hot poker against the wound. She shrieked and heard a grunt as her foot connected with Ramses.

There was a flash of white. The world spun, and she could smell something chemical in the air. As soon as it struck, it was gone just as quick. Slowly, the room came back into focus.

Ramses had her right ankle on his shoulder. His other hand was wrapped around her left knee. A few buttons had popped off his shirt below the abdomen. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked at her injured leg.

“Well, it works.” He dropped her ankle. The only evidence of the wound was a few smooth pink lines, maybe a finger’s width wide.

And he was still clutching her knee.

“Good thing I wasn’t wearing heels.” She forced out a nervous giggle. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to kick you.” Judging by the location of the missing buttons, any lower would have incapacitated him and left them both up the creek without a paddle.

“I’m durable.” Ramses sighed with a roll of his eyes. “If a kick from an injured woman is how I go down, then I deserve it. It would be a small bit of karma that I’m sure I have coming.”

He shifted, seemed to realize that he was still holding her knee, and let it go.

“You rest that leg. I’ll clean up.” He slipped away and started to put away the tools.

Elle watched him. His words repeated over and over again in her mind.

“Ramses… What happened wasn’t–”

“You can say it wasn’t my fault over and over again.” As he spoke, shadows moved across the wall. The air thrummed with power.

“There was so much I could have done to prevent things from playing out the way they did. I failed you as an employer. And then Wrecks was attacked by another drider when he needed to be safe. Then, Horac had to deal with Ash all over again. I figure it will only be a matter of time before something happens to Chorus or Aki.”

He sighed, staring down at the medical kit.

“I keep saying I take care of my employees, but I wish that I could do more. Those underneath me should be able to trust that I’m…”

Elle reached over and rested her hand on his forearm. She could feel the ichor stick to her fingers, but she didn’t pull away.

“You’ve done more than you realize!” She smiled. “I’ve come a long way in the last year, and I have you to thank for it. You started quite the domino effect!I know everyone here would say the same! You gave Wrecks his freedom, helped Horac out of Temptation…”

He reached across and put his hand on the back of hers.

“Thank you, Elle.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. His lips lingered for a few seconds, before he pulled them away.

They stared at one another, silence falling around them.

“You should head home.” He turned away from her, putting his hands on the counter.

“I’m going to be opening the cafe, remember?” Elle forced a smile and hopped off the stool. “So it’s okay if I help clean up.”

She took a couple steps, putting weight on her healed leg. Aside from some itching on her calf, there wasn’t any sign of injury.

“See?” She stepped right on the mess at the floor and slipped. Windmilling, she skidded forward, managing to catch herself on one of the tables. Spinning around on the ball of her foot, Elle faced Ramses and put her hands on her hips.

“I know you think you took advantage of me, but I’ve had a lot of fun. Even if I wasn’t your employee, I…” She struggled to find the words. Clasping her hands in front of her, she forced another smile.

“I like you, Ramses. I told you I took this job for a reason. But I understand that you regret what you did. Just know that I wouldn’t have changed what happened.” She could only think of the heat, the emptiness that needed to be filled, and how she just needed to have something inside her. Even now, she was finding it hard to focus.

“Maybe how… But…”

He closed the distance between them. A wet hand cupped her cheek. Warmth dribbled down the curve of her neck and dripped down the front of the uniform.

She stared up at him. Bringing up her hand, she ran from the base of his horn to the tip. She closed her fingers on the tapered end.

He took her wrist and brought it to his lips, running his thumb over the inside of it. Fangs peeked out, the points barely scraping the vulnerable flesh. Warm breath rolled over her skin as his mouth traveled up, stopping at her sleeve.

“What about the bar?”

Ramses grip on her loosened and he brought his head back.

“The mess isn’t going anywhere. But I understand.” He gave a slight nod, a blush creeping between his scales. "I got... Carried away."

His sighed.

"I know you don't think I took advantage, but some days... It's all I can think about. And knowing that you were only that way because of my negligence... It made me want to try and fix it. But I could never approach you about it. Because I'd know you'd always feel pressured to submit."

Elle stared at him, before shaking her head.

"You seem to think I lack agency, but I-" She cut herself off. What was she doing? He was vulnerable and she was taking advantage.

"I'm not under an influence now..." She let her voice trail off.

Fuck it, I’m not going to be getting any sleep anyway.

Grabbing him by the horns, Elle stood on her toes and brought their lips together. His hands gripped the back of her vest and she heard the fabric of both articles of clothing rip. A cool breeze rolled over her now exposed skin.

“...I’ll get you a new one.” Ramses promised as he started to kiss down the curve of her jaw and neck. The scraping of his fangs made her knees weak. So close to being able to tear her apart, but having the self control not to.

He pinned her to the bar. The wood stuck to her back as he formed an arch over her. She stared up at the dim lights, rubbing her foot from his thigh up to the waist of his pants.

Buttons scattered on the floor as he yanked the front of her shirt open, mouthing more of her collarbone and chest. He took the strap of her bra between his teeth, a few threads starting to fray under the point. His fingers explored under the cups.

“Please,” She put a hand on his chest. The last syllable wavered as he started to circle her nipples. The sludge felt close enough to a mouth.

His heart thrummed under her fingers, even through fabric. Warmth burned against her palm, and for an instant, there seemed to be a literal glow behind his shirt.

“Don’t rip the bra apart. Unless you want to buy that one too.” Although she had a feeling that the sludge from his hands was going to be a pain to get out.

He opened his mouth, and she put her finger over it.

“And one more crack about you taking care of your employees and I’ll–” The protest died off as he went back to nibbling the v of her throat.

Soft moans escaped her as she tangled her hands in his hair, inhaling his scent and feeling the slickness of his sweat. His tongue rolled over her, leaving a glistening trail of saliva as he tasted every inch of skin he could find.

“Fuck, you’re warm.” His hips rolled and he ground into her, the material of his pants rubbing against her inner thighs and panties. The motion betrayed his erection, which seemed to only grow harder as he continued. He traveled lower still, seizing her skirt and panties and pulling both down, then dumping them on the floor. Horns scraped against her legs, but she didn’t care.

Warm breath tickled her folds, before his tongue followed. His hands wrapped around her thighs. She reached up and seized fistfuls of his hair as he continued to lap up her wetness, his moans sending a wave of heat through her.

He raised her legs higher, his tongue slipping in and out with a rhythm she couldn’t follow, but it made her squirm, moan after moan escaping.

“I didn’t get to do this right the first time, so allow me to correct it.” Ramses pumped faster, only pulling out to swirl it around her clit and suck. He didn’t slow down, only pulling her legs higher and further apart when she tried to escape, exposing her further.

“Ramses!” She yelled, grabbing the bar so hard she could feel it shake when her palms slammed against it. Her white knuckled grip only grew tighter as his tongue and lips increased their speed, a barrage that ripped an orgasm from her.

She rocked her hips against him, her breaths becoming short and huffed. The colors in the room started to blur, before the quakes of pleasure hit and she could feel the aftershock.

A bottle rolled, then shattered when it hit the ground behind the bar.

Ramses snatched Elle up, his hand on the exposed small of her back as the odor of the alcohol started to waft through the air. His arms looped around her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her chest pressed against his, their hearts both racing.

“I think it’s best if our activities continue elsewhere.”

The thought of going anywhere, even just a quick walk down the road, made Elle ache. She groaned and buried her face in the curve of his neck, twisting her fingers in his hair and shirt. The emptiness needed to be filled now!

Her back hit the wall, and Ramses mouth was on her again. She slid her fingers in the gap between his shirt buttons and tugged, exposing a strip of skin to the dim light of the quartz.

He leaned her against the wood and attempted to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands, leaving black smudges all over it. Elle greedily seized it, about to tear it open like he’d done to her, but they simply fell loose.

More scales glimmered on Ramses’ abdomen. The sludge on his hands seemed to stop at his shoulders, marbling black in with the skin. The veins and indent of his sternum glowed with heat, like magma below the ground’s surface. When she traced her fingers over it, the light seemed to spread, becoming brighter and dimmer with each heartbeat.

His belt’s buckle jingled when his pants hit the floor. A dripping hardness brushed against her soaked sex, and she let out another shuddering moan. With a bit of adjustment, he managed to get his cock out. The head prodded at her, and Elle threw her arms around Ramses’ neck and lowered herself down. It slipped inside, and Ramses’ hands slapped the wall behind her as he let out an appreciative groan.

She could hear nails scrape the wood as he brought his hand down, a few shavings falling to the floor around them. His hot breath on her neck sent more arousal down her body.

He held her tight as his hips rolled, stray strands of hair tickling her bare skin.

“Elle,” He whispered into her shoulder, nails scraping between her shoulder blades.

Another shuddering gasp escaped as she arched her back, crushing them together further. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled him to face her. His eyes gleamed in the dark.

Bringing their lips together, she moaned into his mouth as the thrusts sped up, filling the silence with the sounds of her wetness. Their gasps and sighs echoed in the lobby, the silvery light of the moon peeking through the windows above in the loft.

His cock twitched and he hilted, his pubic bone grinding against her clit. The motion sent another climax through her and she felt herself go limp against him as he began to drip onto the floor. Fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he planted a kiss on her temple, leaning on his elbows as he took in a few breaths to steady himself.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but he peeled them both off the wall and took her to a booth.

***

“Shepard.” Wrecks was shaking her.

Elle gasped awake and went to shield herself from being exposed, but she’d been redressed in a new nighttime uniform. The lobby and area around them was spotless.

“Did you sleep here!?” Horac shouted from the kitchen as ovens began to roar.

“You never got back to us,” Aki chided. “I told you that you’re working too much.”

“What can I say?” Elle yawned and stretched. “There’s a lot of perks to this job.”

You can read the next part here!

#monster love #monster lover #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monsterfucker #terato #monster smut #cream filling

59 notes · View notes

siblingshuffle · 6 months ago

Text

Sibling Shuffle: Maintenance Day

Sorry for the wait!

LORE:

This takes place between Game 4 and Game 5. Probably inspired by Rock tentatively trying to form a relationship with his family, Tempo just barely builds up enough confidence to share with Dr. LaLinde that she’s a bit uncomfortable with her messing with her systems unsupervised. They reach the agreement that Rhythm will stay in the room (which I forgot to clarify via dialogue, but Rhythm was going to be sent out to work on her job right after).

Rhythm has no idea how to contribute other than to try to add some levity to the moment lol

—————

The Clipboard notes: the official concept art sketches for Tempo are on the side, alongside Tempo’s Sibling Shuffle concept art (but in black & white)

Tempo and Dr. LaLinde? Having conversations to gradually rebuild the lost trust between them? Yeah that’s the aim 👍

—————

Next Up: Roll With The Punches

35 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 10 months ago

Note

may u do sevika helping black reader take care of her hair? 🥹 I’d think after reader teaches her what to do sev would become a pro at braiding and would wanna do it all the time

sure!

disclaimer! i'm white, so please let me know if i make any mistakes and i'll fix them asap!

men and minors dni

sevika's hair is very low-maintenance. while she probably should be keeping better care of it, she just doesn't care enough to bother with anything beyond shampoo and conditioner, running a comb through it every morning, and putting it in her signature half ponytail. she trims it when it gets shaggy. that's the extent of her hair-care.

so when she meets you: you who alternates hairstyles like they're outfits, and takes a whole day to wash your hair, she's fascinated.

she absolutely adores your natural hair. when you guys first met, you were wearing two puffballs on top of your head, with two little braids framing your face, and it's still her favorite hairstyle to see you in. she thinks you're adorable.

she also loves when you just comb it out and rock an afro. she'll help you pick it out, carry a little pick in her back pocket in case you forget yours, and she'll always stop you to gently pick whenever lint or a little leaf gets caught in it.

when you guys move in together, she starts watching you do your hair. she just sits on her stomach, her feet kicking in the air behind her as she watches you braid your hair through the mirror, an adoring look on her face.

she's curious, too. you don't understand why for the longest time.

"what's that for?" she asks as you pop the tub of your hair gel, a toothbrush in your free hand.

"my edges." you explain as you gel your baby hair down on your forehead.

"oh. those pretty curls. i thought that just happened." she says, smiling. you giggle.

"no, i gotta style 'em or else they'll be all frizzy."

"i like you frizzy." sevika pouts. you just giggle and kiss her.

it's only when you catch her watching hair tutorials that you finally start to understand why sevika's been keeping such a close eye on you each time she sees you doing your hair. she wants to help.

the thought makes you melt, and you have to keep yourself from squealing and pinching her cheeks at how cute she is.

so, you start asking her for help.

"sev, will you help me section my hair out for my braids?" you ask one night. the responding grin you get is worth the wonky sectioning on the left side of your head.

the longer you guys spend together, the better she gets at doing your hair. by the time you're married, she's better at doing it than you are.

it's theraputic for both of you, it's how you guys bond. between each step of whatever style she's doing, she's peppering kisses against your scalp and forehead. you end up falling asleep more times than not, so relaxed and in love that you can't help yourself. she's so gentle with you, so patient, she spends entire days diligently working if that's what it takes to do the style you've requested.

she absolutely adores putting beads or charms in your hair if you have it in braids or twists or locs. the more the better. sevika doesn't consider her decorating job done until she can hear the little 'click click click' of your beads bonking into one another as you shake your head.

(now i'm picturing her buying little 's' charms to push onto your braids, and her frowning, hands on her hips in the hair bead isle of the beauty store as she tries to 'pick out a color scheme for your fun summer hair, babe'-- her words.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #the last part is just a self insert because i LOVE when black girls wear beads in their hair #i'm so glad to see more adults doing it now too #it was my favorite thing in elementary school when my friends would come in with beads in their hair. click clack click clack click clack

144 notes · View notes

fumifooms · 11 months ago

Text

And now I’m truly going off the rails bc of last asker but I have thought about what plant fits who and it’s my time to shine…

Mithrun is a succulent because they look like flowers but aren’t (tougher and also kind of duller), are elegant yet minimalist, and they’re low maintenance (you could definitely argue that Mithrun is high maintenance instead but I went the opposite route of him never feeling like he needs much water, attention and whatnot). I prefer the classic one that’s a pale greyish green for him but there are so many that are neat…

Kabru as a big floating bladderwort… A carnivorous aquatic plant that traps little aquatic critters. If you just look at the flower it looks so pretty and harmless, distracts from the roots scheming murder… Also it’s an aquatic plant, gives me the vibe of something surviving/thriving in an environment that shouldn’t be theirs but they’ve adapted, like a tallman in elf society…..

I also associate him a ton with himalayan blue poppies, for obvious reasons. Insane that the shade of blue of his eyes is associated with the throat chakra btw, Kui’s always doing 8d chess my god.

For Izutsumi, Faassen's Catmint. It's a species of catnip but a man-made hybrid and not a natural species. It kind of looks like a long puffy cat tail with the shape, and it has a lot of little flowers… Kind of subtle/bland and unassuming at first look, but colorful and sweet if you take the time to look. Feels sort of vulnerable/or even cold at first but like they’re just looking out for themselves even if they are not someone unemotional….. It makes sense to me. Babygirl. Purple is an unexpected choice for her but it feels right

Chilchuck echinopsis calochlora or golden barrel cactus… The first one is smaller, but I was trying to find the perfect lil cactus guy with orange spines and couldn’t really find any that was just perfect. Chilchuck "I am so approachable" Tims, literally round and spiny with his little hairs but also metaphorically fitting… Also the gooden barrel cactus has a bunch of lil yellow flowers that sprout on its top while the calochlora has HUGE stalks with a big white flower that sprouts so like, if you want to take that to be his big heart once he reveals it or the little flowers of his care……

Falin is the funky living rocks plant. They have cryptid energy and are just so weird and colorful and unique. A little unfeeling. Sad that she doesn’t get a plant that’s fun to eat but come on.

I feel like Laios would also be a cactus, with maybe juice that has funky properties kind of like peyote… He’s reserved and [spoilers], but he either has no spines or small/few spines so he doesn’t look all that uninviting or tough… Probably has very pretty colorful flowers! Or he’s like Falin and loves dandelions and bishop’s lace because he can eat it. Or maybe he’d be a vegetable. Sweet potato… Someone said carnivorous plant to which I suggest pitcher plant or sarracenia.

I see Senshi as basil. Enough said. Something that can be turned into spices and is all greenery that’s all I need

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. I had these thoughts months ago while sick and feverish </3 Possessed by the want to draw the cast as little plants…….. That would be nice……

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun #kabru #izutsumi #Is this anything……. Ok stopping tagging chars here #Flower symbolism #Fumi rambles

63 notes · View notes

mynamesaplant · 11 months ago

Text

Calm Before the Storm

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: The night before her final trial against a berserk Lord Avalugg, Dawn is spending her time with Ingo, and requires a little bit of a distraction.

Content Warning: Drowning

Notes: Don't want to read it on Tumblr? Read it on AO3! I've been feeling creatively stifled lately, so if it feels like two fics smashed together... I plead the fifth. Thanks to monsoon-of-art for beta reading and all their inspiration for PLA and their Mer AU. Please enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You are never going to build up your muscles by hitching a ride on my cab.”

Ingo tried to point out, cutting through the glassy surface of the water and feeling the tip of Dawn’s tail brush against his left ear. Even without seeing her, he sensed that it was a happy sort of tail flap, each movement rhythmic and languid. She was at ease.

“But this is so much easier,” Dawn chirped, watching the sea bird serenely glide overhead.

She was trying to name them in her head, trying to, in some way, make a learning experience out of this strange situation. She recognized the luminescent orange bill and thin, forked tail of a tern. A few gulls, too high up to be clearly identified, were coasting on air currents, the distinctive W-shape to their wings offering a picturesque feel to the azure horizon.

Ingo sank a little lower into the water, his eyes almost parallel with the water, a quiet threat to his passenger to vacate. She was a little too distracted with her observations to notice her ride was slowly vanishing into the sea. Dawn tumbled into the water with an objectionable squawk when the chilly water hit her back and, when she surfaced, her pin straight hair clinging to her face. A few meters away, she saw Ingo’s shadow beneath the ripples, and Dawn sighed; she closed her eyes, straightened her back like Palina had suggested, and felt her lungs expand to their fullest before following after the warden.

Beside her, Ingo was chuckling, slowing his movement to a light flick of his tail so she didn’t strain herself.

“Proper maintenance includes running the engines to check for faults.”

“Ugh,” his young companion huffed, and this just earned her a heartier laugh.

Ingo pointed to the ice floes jutting into the water like so many stalactites, indicating to Dawn that if she could swim that far without his assistance then he would permit her to catch a ride.

“You have to admit, I’ve gotten a lot better since I first started out.”

“Yes, that is true.” Ingo hummed, leveling out her back with his hand as it began to bow. “Keep your back straight. No scrunching. It only leads to sinking.”

She straightened, still astounded by just how powerful her tail was as it propelled her forward. Truth be told, she could be very good at swimming, but it was usually under extreme duress – like when Gaeric somehow ended up chasing her. It had taken a lot of practice to get there, with many covert lessons in shallow waters which Dawn knew hadn’t been the most comfortable for Ingo.

All of her swimming experience could be chalked up to Ingo’s interventions and/or patience.

Dawn’s first trip into the water, the completely accidental tumble that introduced her to Ingo, even if she hadn’t known it at the time, had been nearly fatal. Neither of them liked to think about it. Ingo quite nearly let her drown, frozen with indecision, and petrified of such a small creature when it burst into an abrupt and violent coughing fit on the rocks below him. He used his large body to shield her from the rain pelting down, its whole frame shaking violently and as pale as glacier ice. The air smelt like petrichor and iron, it stung Ingo’s nose with its unpleasant mix, and he grimaced as the human fell unconscious again.

Ingo could still feel shame of the white-hot fear that had filled him when he abandoned Dawn there.

How could he anticipate that a few short weeks later that he would see that human again, but she looked remarkably less human than before. Ingo had stuck closer to the shore – he wanted to tell himself that he was doing it in the name of his warden’s duties, but in truth, he was anxious to see that human that spent so much of its time down in the tidal pools. After a week of absence, Ingo was starting to lose hope that the young human had survived, despite his efforts to save her.

He remembered the day everything changed.

-----

Ingo remembered just how heavy his heart felt as he prepared to leave and resume his duties. That’s when he heard music above him. The eerie resonance of a flute seemed to strike something deep within his bones, even if he couldn’t quite put a finger on what. A splash. A small and all too familiar form was in the water before him, about as graceful as all the previous times he had seen it in the surf.

“Whoa!” Dawn floundered in the water, her clothes weighing down her torso as the fabric took on water. She was too busy trying to get her bearings to notice the massive mer only a few meters from her. “Okay. So, if I…?”

Ingo watched, utterly dumbstruck as this… this was a human, wasn’t it? He could not believe his eyes. Turning and twisting like an orbiting planet, the human was able to right itself… with the pearly white tail of a harp seal pup.

-----

“HA! Now you have to carry me!”

The warden returned to the present, finding his young friend excitedly spinning around in front of him.

“A deal’s a deal.” Ingo agreed, gingerly scooping her up and holding Dawn against his chest. “I was just reminiscing about when our tracks first intersected. You’ve made a vast improvement since then.”

“Thanks! All the lessons helped.”

Dawn agreed, her own thoughts straying to the warden’s initial shock after her transformation. Admittedly, Dawn had been shocked too. When she first played the flute in her quarters, the sensation had been… odd, the surveyor would even argue that it was painful if it hadn’t happened in the space of a heartbeat.

Her whole body had broken out into a cold sweat, but Dawn was anything but cold. She felt like she was on fire. Bones snapping and re-fusing. Flesh tearing and smoothing over. The milliseconds of pain had been enough to force her into unconsciousness, but the absence of her legs almost sent her right back into the dark. Dawn had swallowed and focused on the tail sprouting from her torso, trying to admire it rather than being frightened.

Those first couple of days had been… stressful would have been an understatement. Ingo, who Dawn found to be pretty lax in most scenarios, became increasingly anxious about her and her complete inability to swim. Especially when the clans become involved.

“Please, use the handrail.” Ingo had groaned, scooping her up from the tidal pool when she lost her grip on the edge, and setting her down on the rocks, watching her cough and gasp. Were pups always this delicate and awkward? Dawn was just so small and her muscles so weak, her lack of confidence was making the process of learning to swim all the more difficult. “You must get used to the motions.”

He was trying with all his might to be a good, patient teacher, but that, coupled with his anxieties about her true nature, all but solidified Ingo’s reluctance to take Dawn any further than the shore. Which made the day that Mai stumbled upon her all the more panic-inducing as Ingo quickly had to claim her and keep her as enshrouded in mystery as possible. All his cohorts were extremely curious and protective – both instincts brought about in the vicinity to pups.

Sure, they all had questions and concerns and misgivings, but Ingo had proved himself worthy enough to watch over “his” pup. Irida did not assert her dominance and override Ingo’s and Dawn’s wish to remain coupled, for which both were eternally grateful. The warden was also under the impression that his clan mates thought that caring for a pup was doing wonders for his mental health - and it was - but it was also exhausting and nerve-wracking work.

She was one of the best things that had happened to him in his time with Pearl Clan.

“Uh, Ingo?” Dawn murmured, fiddling with the hem of her tunic. A lump in her throat was preventing her from saying the words that were coming from the heart. Something she had been meaning to say for a while now. Ingo hummed his acknowledgement. “Th-… Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

The warden physically had to prevent his grip from getting too tight as he was stung with an unidentifiable emotion that just made him want to hold the surveyor even closer to him. He had not realized until that moment just how much he cherished his time with her.

“Of course, Dawn.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The settlement was relatively quiet due to the lateness of the hour. Dawn had already informed her superiors that she would be out in the field for a few days, so no one on land would grow anxious with her absence. Tomorrow Dawn would face off against Lord Avalugg and Ingo knew she was looking for any distractions so she wouldn’t back out. Not that the other nobles were easy, but Lord Avalugg’s sheer size was the most daunting thing about the trial.

A good meal and a good night of sleep would be better than attempting to coordinate and strategize with the frantic teen. So, Ingo did not even attempt. His sole task was to keep her mind preoccupied and to tucker her out so she could fall asleep, and he took that job very seriously.

A pool leads straight to his chambers from the surrounding water – the clan had taken the time to specifically carve it out for him since the tunnels through most of the settlement were not large enough for him. Ingo boosted Dawn up and told her to clear the way so he could haul himself out, hoisting himself from the chilly sea. A fire on the opposite side of the chamber was toasty against their backs, both mers shaking themselves out to shed any excess water, with Dawn quick to swath herself into a bear fur located next to said fire.

With her help, the fish that Ingo had specifically caught for the two of them to enjoy was roasting over the flame, filling the space with a heavenly aroma.

“I brought you a little something.”

Dawn admitted, revealing the fruit that she had snuck along with her. Ingo had thought her bag had been oddly lumpy, but he had assumed that it had been filled with supplies to craft balms.

“You should not take from your team’s stock.”

Although he was attempting to adopt a chiding tone, Ingo felt a swell of warmth radiating through his chest. Fruits and vegetables were such a rare treat for him; Dawn had remembered that.

“They’ll never notice.”

Dawn said airily, motioning for Ingo to give her his hand and he received a few apples, the fruits feeling cool and refreshing against his palm when they had been submerged for their journey. She leaned against his flank, her presence and touch welcomed more than Ingo would have anticipated as he worked with the fish over the open flame.

The goal was to keep her mind occupied, which meant that he needed to get Dawn to talk - which was a relatively easy task when he was able to target a source of interest. Tonight, he was settling on her most recent, and favorite, topic of research: penguins.

Dawn was currently studying the Emperor penguin when she wasn’t saving the world from its inevitable destruction. Her dedication to her work took her to the coldest parts of the region, sitting for hours in temperatures averaging in the teens with a windchill that made those same conditions dip into negative integers. She would do this for days on end, taking down detailed notes about penguin behaviors and drawing the most exquisite illustrations in her little waterproof field book, which she presented to Ingo now with a glimmer of pride in her eyes as he congratulated her for meticulousness.

She was content to talk all about her studies, about her chats with the man called Laventon about their diet and habits, she told Ingo about the fluffy gray chicks that made her swoon and coo as they tottered around.

“I chucked rocks at the petrels… Even though I’m not supposed to interfere with the colony. Captain Cyllene tells me that I do that because I have a soft heart, but Professor Laventon told me to interpret that as the Captain saying I care a lot about my work.”

“I would have to agree with this professor of yours.”

Ingo replied, balancing Dawn on his tail and, with the control and precision that would demand for such a maneuver, launched her into the air before outstretching his hands to catch her. This game always left her giggling and euphoric, grinning broadly which never failed to make him return her smile with one of his own. This was usually something they did over the water – just in case Ingo missed – but he needed to offer some distractions… and wanted to see that brilliant smile on her face if only for a moment.

This escalated to play fighting something that was less usual for Dawn, but very usual for other pups; Dawn was repeatedly offering him chirps and growls, flashing her small teeth in threat displays that would have frightened a sardine, but not Ingo.

“So scary,” Ingo chortled, allowing for his hand to get pinned which made Dawn erupt into triumphant cheers. He was quick to flip his hand and pin her back, which made the surveyor snarl. “You must be faster than that, Dawn.”

Unbeknownst to either Ingo or Dawn, a pair of eyes was watching from the mouth of the cavern, crinkling fondly while watching the two playfight. Palina’s beatific smile was almost instantly wiped from her face when she heard Gaeric hollering her name down the corridor, she must have been gone longer than she thought.

“Shhh!”

She hissed at his approach, smacking his arm when he failed to conceal an eye roll. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but she shushed him again. Gaeric frowned, mouth twitching in frustration at the command, and he was about to ignore her when she hissed at him to shut up.

“I will not – where’s Ingo?”

“They’re playing!”

“Who’s playing?”

Palina’s excitement was practically radiating off her in waves, infectious to the point of Gaeric’s brow softened from its agitated slant over his eyes.

“Ingo! With Dawn!”

No way.

He cautiously peered around the corner to the duo obliviously initiating a playfight that Ingo could win in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t the point of a playfight between adults and pups. Ingo didn’t usually play with pups, he had nervously confided in Gaeric that he was afraid of squashing them – which made sense, orca mer pups were probably much bigger than many of the pups of Pearl Clan. However, Ingo seemed perfectly capable of playfighting (Gaeric couldn’t even being to imagine just how much restraint Ingo was exhibiting to make sure there were zero injuries).

“Huh...” That was the only sound that came out of his mouth. He was only struck dumb for a moment, “Hey, wait a minute. She’ll play with Ingo, but not with me?”

It was Palina’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Get over yourself.”

She could feel Gaeric pressed against her back, could practically hear him grinding his teeth in envy with each passing second. She shrugged him off, trying to focus on the nice moment that Ingo and Dawn were sharing… Palina was almost able to forget about Gaeric breathing down her next, almost able to ignore his indignant grumbles about being great at playing.

“Lian loves it when we playfight.”

“Sinnoh above, Gaeric. If you can’t be happy for them, then get out of here.”

That got him to shut up with a grunt, turning to head back to the feast hall to leave Palina to watch the scene in silence.

Yank.

“Let’s go, Lina. Don’t want Ingo to think we're voyeurs.

That was a fair point, but Gaeric didn’t have to drag her by the tail! She stifled her yelp and whisper-yelled at him down the length of the corridor.

In the chamber, Dawn’s face was red with the laughter she was trying to hold in. Ingo was suppressing his own smile, his embarrassment overriding amusement for the time being.

“I can’t believe they didn’t think we could hear them!”

Ingo could only shake his head in disbelief.

With only that minor disturbance, they managed to get to sleep with the embers of the fire providing the only ambient light. Warm and comfortable, Dawn did not worry for the rest of the evening about the looming trial ahead of her.

#pokemon #pla #legends of arceus #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #pkmn #pl:a #p:la #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon: legends arceus #pokemon legends: arceus #warden ingo #warden gaeric #warden palina #mer au #pla au #pokemon dawn

57 notes · View notes

theycallmequeenie · 11 months ago

Text

Yondu X Reader Part 6

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6:

A\N: AS always I did not create the Gif I do not posses those skills I used the gif search bar. If you are the creator of any of the gifs I've used and would like to to Gove you proper credit please let me know and I will edit to tag you for the credit. I know I’ve been gone forever and I’m getting flakier and flakier and at this point I’m truly surprised if anyone still follows any of my stories. Again, I apologize the headspace has been utter garbage and I’m fighting as hard as I can to get content written and posted if only, I could get the headspace and the family to cooperate at the same time that would be wonderful. After all that rambling, here’s the story, enjoy and happy reading.

Yondu began to talk to Y\N trying to calm her anxiety that seemed to spike out of nowhere in the middle of the night taking her hand from his thigh and bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the back of it before placing it over his heart.

“Darlin’ I don’t know what’s got you fretting all of a sudden, but I want you to listen to me. As long as that heart right there is beating you ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout nothin’ getting you in the night. I promise you that.”

Yondu, as gently as he could, pulled Y/N to his chest and slowly rocking her back and forth trying to calm her as quickly as possible. He didn’t know what she may have been through, but he knew it had to have been something terrible to have her this out of sorts from simply being in a different bed than her own. Why hadn’t she realized yet that she and the boy were the two safest ones on that ship as long as he was around. Yondu would rather sacrifice his own life than to ever let either or those two get hurt in any way, shape, or form.

If Y/N questions, her safety still after being on his crew for this long, could something have happened with them or was this something from her life back on Terra messing with her still? Yondu made a mental note to try and ease her into opening up as to why she had this reaction later when she was actually awake enough to delve into potential past traumas.

Yondu managed to get her calmed and back to sleep within about an hour of her waking as she had, and it was a restful rest of the night. As the day started it came with the sounding of alarms to wake and get to work on the ship. More maintenance for the ship and caring for Peter he was still young and needed taught the basics or everyday life all be it not the everyday life that was expected by him and Y/N.

Yondu carefully woke Y/N and handed off her daily Ravager attire of her denim coveralls with the Ravager emblem over the part that rests over her heart and the pants and plain white tee she wore under them. She offered a small smile as she took them and hurried off to the captain’s bathroom to ready herself for the day.

Once dressed she left the captain’s quarters, checked in on Peter, and started on her daily tasks. She did her best to avoid Yondu all day and for the most part she was successful until it came time for the nightly meal.

Yondu basically cornered her asking her why she had been avoiding him all day to which she tried to get away without responding. She wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened the night before and was going well out of her way to avoid it. She just wasn’t ready for that particular conversation with Yondu. She thought if he knew what caused her to wake the way she did in his bed he would see her as ‘soft’ and that would be the end of their relationship. Something she wasn’t ready for, nor did she want.

Yondu decided to let her avoid their conversation at that moment but was determined to at least find out what had happened last night that she had woken up so terrified. He left her eat and socialize like she normally would, but he watched her closely. Waiting for her to decide to call it a night and retire to her quarters for the night after making sure the boy was in for the night. Once she had tucked the boy in then Yondu would make his move and get her to talk to him.

Yondu was waiting outside of Peter’s quarters for Y/N to finish up the boy’s nightly bedtime routine. A fact that Y/N was unaware of until she exited Peter’s room. Upon realizing Yondu was waiting for her startled her which caused her to let out a little yelp of surprise before greeting him.

“You surprised me Cap. Wasn’t expecting you to be lurking just outside the door, Sir.” She spoke barely loud enough to be heard by him and made no efforts to make eye contact. She wasn’t entirely up for the conversation she knew was about to be had but she knew Yondu was like a bulldog with a bone when he wanted answers.

“Well Darlin’, you’ve done an excellent job of avoiding me today and I needed to talk witcha ‘bout las night…” He stopped and gave her a knowing look he had a feeling this was going to be a hard conversation to have with Y/N, but he needed to confirm his theories about his love. Deep down he wanted to be worried over nothing more than a simple bad night but something in his gut told him there was more to it. He really hoped it wasn’t as bad as he feared.

With a sigh Y/N nodded and agreed to talk with him only in his private quarters as to not risk the rest of the crew overhearing the conversation. She motioned to Yondu to lead the way back to his room as she was clearly not in any hurry to have that conversation.

Her childhood was the one thing that she never talked about. It wasn’t a good experience and not something she enjoyed revisiting. It was a harsh reminder that she was damaged goods. A fact her father would remind her of almost daily. Y/N was starting to feel the anxiety build at the thought of telling Yondu what caused that nightmare the night prior. The fear of her father’s words ringing true was weighing heavily on her. What if they were true what if once Yondu finds out about how damaged she was and decided he wasn’t interested in her anymore because the trauma was too much to deal with on top of everything else on his shoulders. What if he agreed with Y/N’s father, that she was in fact completely unlovable…

To Be Continued…

@capitanostella

Part 7

49 notes · View notes

yourfellowhuman07 · 8 days ago

Note

1 and 15 for the Entrapdak ask meme please?

In terms of first impressions...

Hordak's reaction to Entrapta was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

When Catra and Scorpia told Hordak they found a princess in the Fright Zone, Hordak was expecting to meet someone akin to what he thought a traditional princess is: A glitter clad entitled palace brat who possessed powers.

He was, of course, surprised to find a woman nearing her thirties who looked like someone on his maintenance staff who's talents lied in machinery, not magic.

He took an immediate interest in the princess who continued to impress him with her skills. Of course, if you asked him, he would deny his interest and write her off as just another Etherian princess.

Entrapta on the other hand, had no real opinion on the warlord, who, to her, was just another person she had to navigate around.

She only began to take an interest in Hordak when she found out he was a fellow scientist, and began to sneak into his lab to borrow his things.

15. For music, Entrapta is mostly pop and techno music that acts more like white noise, and Hordak likes classical music with the occasional rock song thrown in there (he also likes musical theatre but will never admit it).

For fictional books, Entrapta likes romance or sci-fi and loves when the two are combined, but Hordak likes thriller/mystery novels. Side note: Entrapta doesn't usually read, instead she listens to audio books.

For movies, basically the same concept as books (subtitles are a must).

Thank you so much for the ask! I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry this took so long!

#spop #hordak #entrapta #entrapdak #she ra #hyperfixation #epm 2025 #entrapdak ask game

7 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 2 years ago

Text

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I wrote this whole story before realising that it was some twisted RonSwanson!Bucky fantasy I'd cooked up, so if anyone can recommend a good therapist hmu

---

Monday, June 5th. Week 1.

“Oh, what a shame.”

Your eyes flicked up from the pile of paperwork in front of you, dread forming like a rock in your stomach when you saw the pitiful look she was giving you. Her head turned towards the older man sitting beside her and she pointed at something on your file.

“She's got the maintenance cabin in her coverage area.”

“Ah, oh dear.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping they’d just explain to you why that was such an issue so you didn’t have to ask. There was a tense silence as they shuffled some papers around. Eventually, Angela, who was your new supervisor and the woman looking at you like it was her job to let you know that you’re terminally ill, gave a weary sigh and pulled her glasses down her nose.

“Our maintenance manager can be… difficult.” The man scoffed at her delicate wording and received a subtle elbow to the ribs in response. “You’ll be fine, honestly, just don't try to make small talk and don't try to pet his dog. That thing is vicious.”

“Right. So what should I do?”

“Get in there, get his report and get out.”

That sounded easy enough. Even if it wasn’t, this was your dream job, so you weren’t about to let some crusty old man with a nasty temper ruin it for you. Six months of solitude in a tower in the middle of a national park was your idea of bliss and, if all you had to do in return was keep an eye on the canopy for signs of fire, you figured that was a pretty sweet deal. You’d eagerly snap up any opportunity to disconnect from the real world.

The meeting wrapped up and you were handed a sheet which detailed your daily and weekly duties. All you had to do each day was fill out a weather report, check in with basecamp and take a walk through your coverage area to make sure nothing was amiss. Easy. Your weekly list was a little longer, containing things like deep cleaning your tower and checking up on the wildlife, but you skipped past all that to find the point of contention.

Every Friday, collect weekly reports from any staff cabins in your coverage area. Review for urgent issues, gather further information if necessary and send back to basecamp alongside your weekly report.

Oh, that didn't sound too bad at all.

—

Friday, June 9th. Week 1.

The day was finally here.

Unfortunately, despite your initial attempts at optimism, you really had been dreading this, the occasional twangs of anxiety managing to effectively ruin what would otherwise have been an incredibly serene first week on the job. You figured there was a slight chance that Angela had been exaggerating, but you weren’t sure what benefit she’d get from scaring you like that. She didn’t seem like much of a sadist.

With a clipboard gripped in your white-knuckled hand, you reluctantly trudged up to the cabin door and gave two knocks. A bark from inside made you jump backwards before it swung open. The dark entranceway was filled with an imposing body, shoulders almost touching the wood on either side, arms folded across a broad chest.

You couldn’t help but give it a slightly confused look. Was this the dreaded maintenance manager? You’d been expecting a curmudgeonly old grandpa, but this guy couldn’t have been too far into his thirties. You were half-tempted to ask if his dad was in.

Recollecting yourself from the shock, not to mention the skittishness you always felt in the presence of men you found even slightly attractive, you gulped harshly and forced a smile.

“Hi, the new fire lookout. I'm here to collect your weekly report.”

“I don't do those.”

“Oh, right.” You looked down at your clipboard with a frown. “Just, it says here-”

The door slammed shut.

You were stunned into silence for a second, amazed that your first encounter with the national park boogeyman had gone down even worse that you’d expected. With a defeated sigh, you eventually turned away, muttering under your breath.

“Well fuck you, then.”

The porch steps creaked under your feet. Once safely out of earshot, you unclipped the radio from your belt and spun the dial, finding the frequency for basecamp.

“Come in, anybody there?”

Copy.

“Hey, so I just tried to pick up the weekly maintenance report and got a door slammed in my face. Apparently he doesn’t have to do them, I’m guessing that's a lie?”

God damn it, he does this every time, obviously thinks he can intimidate the newbies. Don’t worry, I'll get the supervisor onto him.

“Thanks.”

—

Friday, June 16th. Week 2.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks of your dream job had now been ruined by this asshole over some stupid fucking paperwork. What a waste. You’d been replaying your first encounter over and over in your head, just wishing you’d pushed back a little more or stuck your foot in the door or something, anything to look a bit less fucking pathetic.

Approaching his doorstep, you spotted a piece of paper lying on the porch. A wave of relief hit you. Getting the report and not having to talk to him at all was pretty much the ideal outcome here, maybe you could make this a regular arrangement.

When you reached it, however, you saw that it was just a blank sheet of paper with the word ‘fine’ scribbled in the top corner. For fuck’s sake. You snatched it off the ground and banged hard against the door, holding it up with an incredibly unimpressed expression once he answered.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“I'm new but I'm not an idiot, you can't palm me off with this.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Stop bullshitting me. I know you've done these properly before, so just fucking do it, alright?” You shoved it into his chest before swivelling around and storming away, adding over your shoulder, “I'll be back for it after my rounds.”

You were pissed off for the rest of the day. It wasn’t that you cared about reports being filed in a timely fashion or even about him doing his job properly, in fact you couldn't have cared less about that, you were just concerned that his laziness would reflect badly on you and jeopardise your chances of ever landing one of these jobs again. They weren’t exactly easy to come by.

The sun was beginning to set by the time you got back to his cabin. Again, the paper was waiting for you on the porch and, again, he’d decided to behave like a child. He'd scribbled out his first draft and written underneath ‘mostly fine'. Jackass.

Naturally, you were straight back on the radio with basecamp, but their only advice was to file it anyway and just explain that he was being a pain in the ass once it got picked up on.

So that's exactly what you did.

—

Wednesday, June 21st. Week 3.

The sun was blazing in the clear sky and you were taking your time with your rounds, soaking up the warmth and making the most of your peaceful surroundings. The forest hummed with life and you pulled in the scent of wildflowers, branches cracking under your boots, wispy moss grazing against your knuckles.

About halfway along your trail, however, you noticed an unfamiliar sound in the distance. Something like rhythmic hammering was echoing through the tees. You rarely came across hikers or campers in this area, so you decided to check it out, just to make sure they weren’t causing trouble. Besides, it’d been weeks now since you’d had a pleasant conversation that didn’t crackle through a radio.

Pushing your way through the pines, you eventually reached the cause of the sound. That maintenance asshole was set up in a clearing, fixing up some dilapidated old wooden fencing while his dog sniffed around nearby. Both of them seemed too caught up in their activities to notice you peering through the shrubbery.

You observed him for a second, musing on what a shame it was that someone so visually pleasing was so fucking unbearable to hold a conversation with, and wondering how he’d ended up out here all alone. Maybe he’d just always been a huge dick to people.

The dog was inching closer. You had no idea what breed it was, your mom always had little terriers so you were hopeless when it came to the big types. Was it a husky? A big fluffy one? It looked harmless enough. Still, you figured it was best to skedaddle, slowly backing into the trees.

You thought you’d almost managed to slip away unnoticed when a booming voice made you freeze on the spot.

“You suck at hiding, y’know.”

Shit. How the hell were you going to play this off?

“Sorry,” you emerged from cover and took a few steps towards him, keeping the dog in the corner of your vision, “I wanted to make sure it wasn’t… bears.”

“Bears?”

“Mhmm.”

“With hammers?”

“...mhmm.”

He shook his head, dropped his tool on the ground and leant against the fence, shooting a resentful scowl in your direction. “Thanks for getting me chewed out last week.”

“Anytime.” He scowled harder. “Look, I really don't know what you expected. I’m not taking the fall for your lazy ass.”

“So you bad-mouth me instead?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”

“Trust me, I wish I could.”

It almost looked as though he was about to admit defeat and go back to work, but his eyes were suddenly pulled down towards something beside you. Following his gaze, you flinched dramatically, finding Cujo poised by your hand.

“Don't like dogs?”

“No, I do, I'm just,” it gave your fingers a curious sniff before licking them excitedly, “not used to big ones.”

“They told you she was vicious, right?”

“They might’ve done.”

“She can be,” the corner of his mouth curled menacingly, “when I tell her to be.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So, you tell her to be vicious towards your supervisors?”

He shrugged.

You squatted down and gave her a scratch, laughing when she eagerly began to wag her tail before flopping onto her back, legs in the air and belly exposed. Your eyes moved back up to his. You might have been imagining it but, just for a second, his face seemed to soften slightly. Then you blinked and he was back to looking like he was sucking on a wasp.

“What breed is she?”

“Akita.”

“Sweet. What’s her name?”

“Akita.”

His expression was completely blank.

“You named your Akita, Akita?”

“Mhmm.”

“Right.” You stood back up and brushed the loose hairs off your hands. “Well, I’d better get back to work. I guess I’ll see you Friday.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You ignored that snide comment and ventured back into the trees, desperately wondering why the fuck you weren’t more upset about the prospect of seeing him twice in one week.

—

Saturday, June 24th. Week 3.

Yesterday had been a fucking nightmare. The lookout in charge of the coverage area that bordered yours had spotted smoke on the horizon so it was all hands on deck. You had to rush through miles of unfamiliar forest at six in the morning, only to find an elderly couple stoking a campfire next to their tent. They claimed not to have seen the dozens of bright red signs warning travellers that it was the height of forest fire season. Idiots.

The worst part of the whole ordeal, however, was that all the rushing around and subsequent paperwork didn’t leave you any time to do your weekly duties, meaning you had no choice but to visit the maintenance asshole today. You were sure he'd be thrilled to see you on his day off.

As you walked up to the cabin, you saw him sitting on the porch swing with Akita, intensely focused on something he was doing in his lap. The dog jumped down to approach you as you neared, asshole’s eyes briefly flicking up to acknowledge your presence before returning to his project.

“Hey,” you folded your arms and leant against a beam of wood, “I'm sure you heard the panic over the radios yesterday.”

“Mhmm.”

“I didn’t have time to walk over here, can I just get your paperwork now?”

He huffed, dropped what he was holding onto the seat and stood up. “If you're gonna make me do these things you could at least come get them.”

There were a few seconds of silence. He was obviously trying to provoke you into an argument but you didn’t rise to it, instead just staring him down and waiting.

“So, you gonna go get it for me or…?”

He huffed again, like a toddler having a tantrum, before trudging inside.

Your attention shifted down to the little object lying on the porch swing. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you tiptoed over and picked it up, turning it around in your hands. It was a small, intricate wooden deer figurine. Jesus, had he carved that by hand? It was beautiful.

The front door clicked back open and it was swiftly snatched out of your grasp.

“You mind?”

“Sorry, it's just really pretty. Did someone teach you?”

“No.”

“You taught yourself?”

“Lots of time to practise shit like that in this job, you'll see,” he sunk back into his seat, “you should find a hobby for the weekends so you can stop bothering me.”

“I think bothering you might be my new hobby.”

He chuckled. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was obviously a shock to him too because, as soon as he caught himself, he immediately went stone-faced again. You tried not to make it too obvious how incredibly fucking pleased with yourself you were.

After skimming your eyes down the report to make sure it was done properly, you nodded to him faintly, giving Akita a quick scratch before going on your way. Only when you had your back to him did you allow a wide grin to spread across your face.

—

Tuesday, July 4th. Week 5.

A ferocious knocking at the door of your tower jolted you awake. Half-delirious, you reached an arm out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone, the brightness of the screen almost blinding you. It was 4:27am. What the fuck was going on?

The knocking sounded again, this time even louder and faster. You bolted to your feet and yanked your coat over your pyjamas, convinced that you were going to step outside and see the whole forest engulfed in flame.

The only thing you saw when you opened the door, however, was the maintenance asshole. The dim light above the door was illuminating his face. He looked shaken up, which was strange, because you’d only even seen him look bored with a hint of pissed off.

You rubbed your eyes. “Everything alright?”

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Akita. She’s gone.”

“Gone?” If it weren’t for the offensively loud sound of rustling trees and the harsh wind throwing your hair around, you’d have been convinced that this was all some elaborate dream.

“Yeah, she was scratching at the door so I let her out for a piss but she must’a got spooked,” he was tripping over his words, “cause she bolted into the trees too fast for me to catch her.”

“Well, she’s trained, right? So she’ll probably come back on her own?”

“She is but she’s never done this before, what if it was a bear or somethin’?”

You were actually starting to get a little concerned, he seemed about as on edge as someone with no emotions was capable of being. “Okay, sure, I’ll help. Just let me get my boots on.”

He stared you down intently as you rushed to get your laces tied. The two of you descended the tower stairs and headed into the forest, both calling her name, torches desperately searching through the darkness for any signs of life. Half an hour passed with no luck.

You stopped walking and pointed the torch towards him. “Should we split up? Cover more ground?”

“Nah.”

“Well, what’s the point in two of us being here, then? You could’ve done this on your own.”

“Just in case there is a bear.” You gave him a confused look. “I reckon I could run faster than you.”

He kept walking. It took you a second to process, but, had he just made a joke? You wouldn’t put it past him to actually throw you to the bears, if anything you’d be expecting it, but his tone was definitely lighter than usual.

So he did have a sense of humour, then. How interesting.

“You comin’?”

You had to jog to catch up with him. “Seriously, why am I here?”

“Cause she likes you, I figured two familiar voices was better than one.”

“You’re really worried, huh?”

He didn’t answer, instead just marching ahead and continuing to call her name. This carried on for what felt like hours, the sun slowly rising, thankfully lighting up the landscape. Eventually, you came across a small stream trickling over some rocks. There, having a leisurely drink, was Akita.

He rushed over, looking absolutely overjoyed. You couldn’t help but smile at the reunion. It was nice, seeing him showing emotion, almost like he was actually human. He could obviously be pretty sweet when he wanted to be.

He clipped a lead from his pocket onto her collar and looked over to you. “Thanks.”

“No worries, I’ll leave you two alone.”

“You want us to walk you back?”

“It’s ok, I know the way,” you gave him a smile, “I’ll see you on Friday.”

“See you then.”

You wandered away from the happy couple.

By this point, you were wide awake and already halfway through your coverage area, so you figured you might as well just finish up your rounds before heading back. Besides, you could use a solitary walk to clear your head a little.

You made sure to keep a keen eye out for any big scary mammals but saw nothing, finishing up and walking back just before midday. You’d already planned out your entire quiet, cosy evening in your head.

Climbing up to your tower, you noticed something sitting at the top of the stairs. A small wicker basket. Cautiously, you peered inside, your stomach fluttering slightly when you saw that it was holding a small bottle of whiskey and a carved wooden bear figurine. It was even more beautiful than the deer he’d been working on last week.

You didn’t really drink whiskey, but you appreciated the gesture, figuring it was probably the only other giftable thing he had to hand. Picking it up and taking it inside, you noticed a small folded note underneath the bottle. It read:

Thanks again for the help. Bucky.

Was that his name? Jesus, you’d never even asked. Well, at least you could stop calling him asshole now.

—

Friday, July 7th. Week 5.

You decided to head over to the cabin a little later than usual. You were risking facing his wrath again but, bottle of whiskey in hand, you were actually feeling bold. The sun was setting behind the mountains by the time you reached his porch.

He answered the door with slightly less resentment on his face than usual. “Thought you weren’t gonna show up again.”

“Sorry, it’s been a busy day.”

That was a lie, you’d spent three hours this afternoon trying to get a hot sauce stain out of your sweatpants. He eyed the whiskey.

“Oh, yeah, I really appreciate it, but I thought maybe we could share.” You held it out to him. “I’m guessing you don’t get to replenish your stock too often, didn’t want to deprive you.”

He hesitated for an offensively long time before taking it from you, stepping aside and gesturing for you to enter. You figured there was probably a fifty-fifty chance of you ever leaving here alive.

The inside of the cabin was pretty much as you expected, with exclusively wooden furniture, a couple of guns propped up against the wall and the faint smell of cigars hanging in the air. It was also pretty messy but, from your experience, that was typical of single male accommodation. The only thing that did throw you off was the lack of taxidermied animal heads hanging above the mantelpiece. Maybe that would be his next hobby.

You heard the whiskey pop open and the clink of glasses as he reached them out of a tall cabinet.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. I don’t have guests very often.”

You glanced over to a pile of screwed-up clothes on the couch. “You don’t say?”

He took the hint, clearing them before inviting you to sit down. The two of you drank and made small talk for a while. It was pretty nice. He definitely enjoyed his liquor, though, cause you were only on your second glass by the time he’d finished off the rest of the bottle.

It hadn’t been your intention to take advantage of his tipsiness this evening, but you couldn’t help probing a little now he was nice and loosened up.

“So, how’d you end up with Akita?”

He glanced down to the dog whose head was resting on your lap, eyes closed as you softly stroked her head. “She’s a service dog.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I got her when I left the army. I’m not great in crowded places anymore but I didn’t feel like being all alone out here. She helps me out.”

“That’s nice,” you ran one of her ears between your fingers, “I see why the two of you are so close now.”

He waited a few seconds, watching you with a vague hint of warmth dawning on his face before speaking again. “How’d you end up out here?”

“Nothing interesting, I’m afraid. I just like the peace.” He scoffed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, go on.”

“S’just…” he looked embarrassed, “it was a helluva lot more peaceful for me here before you showed up.”

“I’ll bet it was. Shame you can’t intimidate me into leaving you alone.”

He chuckled. “Well, as far as pains in my ass go, I guess you’re not so bad.”

“Is that the nicest thing you’ve ever said to another person?”

“I think so.”

He smiled, you were pretty sure for the first time ever. Not bad at all. You looked down at your empty glass then across to the other side of the room, quickly realising that the whiskey had hit you like a train, and that it was probably time for you to go to bed. You had a habit of embarrassing yourself after too many drinks.

“I should get back, it's pretty late.”

“I’ll walk you.” You shook your head firmly but he didn’t back down, adding while pulling on his coat, “I don’t want you gettin’ lost or mauled by a bear.”

“Damn, you’re so much nicer when you’re drunk.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Despite your protests, he did end up accompanying you on the moonlit stroll back to your tower, the fresh forest air swiftly sobering you up while Bucky’s knuckles occasionally grazed against yours. He even insisted on walking you to the top of the stairs, pausing as you rooted around in your pocket for the keys.

“Well, goodnight,” you pushed the door open, stepping inside and turning back around to face him, “I weirdly had a really nice evening.”

“Charming.”

You expected him to just walk away after that, cause he wasn’t exactly one for niceties, but he stayed where he was. The atmosphere between you suddenly changed, the look that settled on his face sending an electric chill down your neck and along both of your arms. He took a step towards you. What the fuck was happening?

Your answer came swiftly and suddenly as he dropped his head and firmly pressed his mouth against yours, hands perching themselves slightly awkwardly on your shoulders. He’d obviously not done this for a while. You just stayed still, frozen with shock. It was nice, it really was, but fucking hell were you confused.

He pulled away, his face immediately dropping when he saw yours all scrunched up.

“Shit, did you not want-”

“No, it’s not that, I just… well to be honest I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, yeah. I kinda did,” he shrugged slightly, “but I don’t anymore.”

“How romantic.”

Chuckling at his frankness, you took hold of his hands and manoeuvred them downwards, placing them in a less wooden position on your hips. He nodded, looking as though he was taking mental notes.

“It’s been a while.”

“I’d never have guessed.”

You got another smile from him before he moved in again, softer this time, while you reciprocated by cupping his rough face between your hands. The good news was that he was obviously a fast learner, but the bad news was that he was apparently too much of a gentleman to try and push things any further, so he pulled away after just a few seconds and took a step back. Considerate asshole.

He scratched the back of his head. “I’m gonna be away for a few days, there’s a big job on the other side of the park, but I’ll be back next Friday.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Sounds good.”

He flashed a warm grin before disappearing down the stairs. You pinched yourself.

—

Tuesday, July 11th. Week 6.

You’d only just finished frantically tidying up when a knock sounded on your door. You really appreciated your supervisor taking the time to check up on you but, Jesus, she could’ve given you more than half an hour's notice.

“Hey, Angela,” you tried to hide how out of breath you were as you invited her in, “nice to see you.”

“Yes, you too. How have you been getting on?”

“All good, thanks. No complaints.”

“Really?” She planted herself down on the chair you’d set out and opened up the comically oversized file from under her arm, “because I hear you’ve been having some trouble with our maintenance manager.”

That was an understatement.

“Oh, yeah, a bit. But it’s all sorted now.”

She sighed and looked gravely towards you over the top of her glasses. “Look, I won’t beat around the bush, I’m here to collect evidence to support my argument for his termination.”

“You’re- his- what?”

“I need to take a statement from you about his behaviour.”

“You want to get rid of him?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Are you serious? You said yourself he’s impossible to work with.” She looked down and started reeling off the notes she’d already made in the file. “He doesn’t do his paperwork, he’s rude, he’s aggressive, he sets his dog on people.”

All good points.

“He’s good at his job though, right?”

“I’m afraid that just isn’t enough to cut it anymore.” She clicked her pen and poised it above the paper. “So, can you help me out?”

—

Friday, July 14th. Week 6.

You raced over to Bucky’s cabin at the crack of dawn, more eager to speak with him than you ever had been before. It was strange, if Angela had come to you asking for help just a couple of weeks ago, you probably would’ve obliged. Now, the prospect of working in the park for the next four and a half months without him actually felt pretty bleak.

You arrived at the cabin, he wasn’t there. Maybe you’d been a little overeager. Taking a seat on his porch step, you watched the birds fluttering in and out of the trees for what felt like hours before you heard his truck approaching. Your legs immediately sprung into action and launched you towards it. He pulled up, smiling at you through the windscreen. You yanked the door open.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Lots of stuff.”

“Can I unpack first?”

“No.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just, come on.”

You dragged him out of the car and into the cabin, noticing that the place looked much tidier than it did on your last visit. When did he have time to do that? He’d been away since Saturday, did he do a big clean after getting back from your tower last Friday night? Weird.

He dropped his bag by the door and Akita ran in behind the two of you, settling herself on the couch. He leaned against the wall as you paced around nervously.

“So what’s up?”

“Angela’s trying to get you fired.”

“Again?”

“I’m serious, Buck. She’s got this huge file full of evidence and statements against you, she wanted one from me too.”

“Did you give her one?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Really?”

“No, you dick.” You stopped in front of him, giving him a stern glare. “Look, you have to sort your shit out. She really wants you gone, you can’t give her any more ammunition.”

“What can I do?”

“File your paperwork, for a start. I can help with that.”

“Alright.” He pushed himself off the wall and gestured for you to follow, marching towards a closed door at the back of the cabin, but pausing and spinning back around just before reaching it. “Thanks, by the way.”

“It’s fine, I do so much paperwork now it’s basically second nature.”

“No, I meant thanks for warning me. I wouldn’t have blamed you for just letting me get fired.”

“Well, as far as pains in my ass go, I guess you’re not so bad.”

He smiled affectionately and you reciprocated, but all the joy immediately melted from your face when he opened the mysterious door to reveal piles and piles of unorganised papers stacked precariously on a rickety wooden desk. You shot him daggers, he just shrugged.

It took hours to get things in order, a total of twelve bulging envelopes of paperwork going back months eventually getting assembled. You also, somehow, managed to convince him to go and drop them off at basecamp in person, apologising to Angela in the process. You dreaded to think of the speech he’d come up with but you just hoped to god that it was better than nothing at all.

It was a nervous wait in the cabin with Akita. She could obviously tell you were stressed, because she kept pawing at your leg and forcing her head onto your lap, each time managing to pull you out of your anxiety spiral. She was good.

He reappeared through the door just over an hour later, the look on his face telling you it was good news. You shot to your feet.

“Well?”

“She’s agreed to give me a second chance.”

“Oh thank fuck for that,” you let out a relieved chuckle, “for a second there I thought you were gonna abandon me.”

“Not a chance.”

He rushed towards you, an excited yelp escaping from your lips as he grabbed hold of your waist and let the two of you fall onto the couch. Akita bolted and just about avoided a firm crushing. His mouth connected to yours, your bodies shuffling around until they found a comfortable position in such a compact area. His head moved downwards, stubble grazing across your jaw, lips starting to plant kisses against your neck and collarbone. Your eyes briefly fluttered closed but, when they opened again, you found yourself nose to nose with an incredibly confused looking hound.

“Uh, Buck?”

“What?” His voice was muffled against your skin.

“Does the dog usually watch or…?”

His head shot up, face contorting into a puzzled expression. “I don’t know, this is new territory for me.”

The two of you looked from her, to each other, and then back to her.

“Maybe let her outside.”

“Yeah.”

—

Friday, October 13th. Week 19.

You couldn’t believe how quickly the last few months had gone. Now you were getting close to the end of your time in the park, you were dreading it being over even more than you’d expected.

This job really hadn’t played out at all as you’d expected, but you could honestly say that you wouldn’t trade the time you’d spent with Bucky for anything. You were just nervous about what would come next. The park wouldn’t need fire lookouts until next summer and it was basically impossible to secure any other job there during the winter months. You couldn’t bear the thought of having to travel miles every time you wanted to see him, the walk from the tower was long enough.

What you didn’t know, however, was that he’d been thinking about it too.

When you went to collect his report, just like every Friday, and he invited you in, just like every Friday, there was something new in the living room. A set of beautiful, carved wooden shelves.

“Oh, wow,” you walked over and ran your fingertips across the smooth grain, “did you make these?”

“Yeah, took me weeks.”

“They’re beautiful. What are they for?”

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Well, I thought maybe you could help me with that.”

“How?”

“I spend ages makin’ them, but I don’t have enough stuff to fill ‘em. Was wondering if you’d want to put all your stuff here.”

“Why would I-” Your heart jumped and you spun round in his grasp, eyes widening as they met his. “Are you serious?”

“Mhmm. It’ll be nice having someone to talk to who can actually talk back.”

You glanced over to Akita, laughing as her ears pinned back as if she knew she’d just been slandered. “Just wait a few weeks and you’ll be begging to go back to barking.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I am right, but that’s too bad, cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“Sounds good to me.”

—

214 notes · View notes

syntheticklove · 2 months ago

Text

LA LEÇON (chapitre 1)

Vinny Mauro x Emily

Résumé : Emily est une jeune célibataire qui s’ennuie un peu et a décidé de prendre des cours de batterie afin de développer son sens artistique. Mais son professeur, un certain Vinny Mauro, batteur d’un groupe de Metalcore très populaire, va avoir de l’effet sur d’autres de ses sens…

Warnings : 18+/ NSFW / vulgarités/ drogues / alcool / smut (sexe oral H/F et F/H, pénétration, masturbation…)

PS : il s’agit de ma première fiction, à voir ce que l’avenir nous réserve ; merci pour vos retours ! J’ai d’autres idées en tête pour la suite. Enjoy !

Un immense merci à ma bêta reader @mylittlehatefuck666

6472 mots

Total mots pour les 4 chapitres : 19 980 mots

Je n'ai jamais été très douée pour les activités culturelles ou artistiques. Mais j’ai toujours voulu apprendre à jouer d'un instrument ou à mieux développer mes piètres talents en dessin. Quelques années de cours d'arts quand j'étais en primaire ne m'ont hélas pas laissé beaucoup de traces.

C'est pourquoi j'ai envie maintenant que je suis adulte et posée, de prendre des cours de musique. Et comme je suis célibataire et que je n'ai pas énormément d'amis autour de moi, j'ai pas mal de temps libre pour me lancer dans une nouvelle activité.

J'aurais aimé faire du chant mais pas de chance, je n'ai pas de talent dans ce domaine. Alors je vais tenter la batterie. J'ai toujours été fascinée par le talent des batteurs et cette capacité qu'ils ont à être dans leur bulle et à être capables de désynchroniser leurs gestes. J'ai toujours adoré le rock, le métal, la musique alternative, la culture goth. Je recherche donc un professeur plutôt spécialisé dans ce domaine.

Je me suis renseignée près de chez moi pour trouver quel serait le meilleur professeur proposant des cours à des horaires compatibles avec les miens.

On m'a parlé à plusieurs reprises de ce musicien d'un groupe a succès, Motionless in White, qui donne des cours entre deux tournées. Je n’ai jamais trop prêté attention à ce groupe, j’ai donc écouté un peu ce qu'ils font et… j’aime beaucoup.

Je suis surprise qu'un musicien aussi réputé prenne le temps de donner des cours à des gens lambda mais je tente mon inscription, on verra bien. Les tarifs sont raisonnables et mon travail dans une banque m'offre des revenus plutôt confortables pour mon train de vie assez simple.

Quelques jours après avoir rempli le formulaire, une dame m'appelle pour creuser mon projet et voir si tout peut coller. J’imagine qu’elle voulait aussi vérifier que je n’étais pas une groupie hystérique qui prendrait des cours uniquement pour rencontrer son idole. Et ça se comprend. Je pense qu'il s'agit de sa maman au vu de comment elle parle de lui.

Il s'appelle Vincenzo Mauro, mais son surnom c'est Vinny. Il n’est pas très grand, la petite trentaine, plutôt mignon et des cheveux aux épaules avec des mèches rouges sur le devant du visage. Il n’est pas désagréable à regarder d'ailleurs même si ce n'est pas forcément mon type. Dans le groupe je serais plutôt attirée par leur guitariste, Ricky Olson : une beauté celui-là !

Mais je suis déterminée à apprendre à jouer et quoi de mieux pour ça que quelqu'un de talentueux et de reconnu dans son domaine.

Le premier cours est fixé à la semaine suivante. Pour ce premier cours je veux paraître un peu mignonne et soignée sans faire la pimbêche trop apprêtée. J’opte donc pour ma veste en cuir habituelle, mon skinny noir, mes Docs et un petit t-shirt, histoire de ne pas me mettre à transpirer bêtement, même si nous sommes en automne et que les températures rafraîchissent.

Je sonne à l’adresse indiquée et m’avance dans l’allée, pour arriver sur le côté d'une jolie maison, simple mais bien entretenue, devant un grand garage aménagé. On m'avait conseillé d'amener un casque anti bruit ou des boules Quies : je suis heureuse de l’avoir fait au vu du boucan qui s’échappe du bâtiment !

Je rentre dans le garage et y découvre Vinny, assis sur un tabouret derrière une batterie. Il semble totalement concentré et ne me voit pas arriver dans le garage. Je reste plantée là à ne trop savoir quoi faire. Et au vu du bruit qu’il fait ce n’est pas sûr qu'il m'entende parler… Alors j'attends bêtement en espérant qu'il lève la tête à un moment donné et qu'il me voit.

Je l'observe jouer quelques instants : je suis tout de suite frappée par ce qu'il dégage, sa gestuelle, sa façon de bouger la tête et son corps face à l’instrument. Il est habillé simplement, un t-shirt et un cargo. Je reste scotchée et ne me rend même pas compte qu'il a arrêté de jouer, qu'il me regarde et m'interpelle :

« Hey, tu dois être Emily ! Excuse-moi je ne t’ai pas entendu arriver… »

Quelle idiote… Je dois être rouge tomate et me sens totalement honteuse... Je lui souris et me présente. Il se lève de son tabouret et s'approche de moi en souriant en retour. Je suis éblouie par son sourire et son regard qui me transperce. Nous nous serrons la main et commençons à discuter.

Il me demande comment j'ai eu connaissance des cours qu'il donnait et lui explique mon histoire.

« D’accord Emily, j'ai bien compris ce que tu recherchais et je pense pouvoir t'aider… À ce qu'il paraît je suis assez pédagogue et en plus je suis plutôt marrant, on devrait bien s'entendre ».

J'adore son humour et sa repartie : je le trouve drôle et cool.

On commence à discuter un peu des bases et je suis contente d'avoir creusé le sujet avant de venir. Je connaissais ainsi deux ou trois choses sur le fonctionnement des différents accessoires et quelques termes techniques.

Il semble satisfait et m’observe de façon assez intrigante et perturbante. Il a une manière de regarder un peu par en haut en levant le menton, ses mèches rouges devant les yeux et un petit sourire en coin. J'espère qu'il ne se moque pas de moi mais j'essaye de faire abstraction de ce qu'il me fait ressentir.

Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'il allait m'attirer même si je l'avais trouvé mignon sur les quelques photos et vidéos que j'avais vues avant de venir. C'est ce qu'on appelle le charme à ce qu'il paraît. Je suis subjuguée et hypnotisée.

On ne commence rien de très technique ce jour-là : on apprend surtout à se connaître et à discuter de batterie en général.

Il me demande un peu de lui montrer comment je tiens un rythme ou de tenir une cadence. J’aimerais lui poser des questions plus personnelles sur sa vie, ses ambitions, son histoire mais je n'ose pas trop, il doit déjà répondre à ce genre de question en permanence dans les interviews alors je décide de m’abstenir.

Notre heure de cours est déjà terminée : je n'ai pas vu le temps passer. Ça nous a permis de faire un bilan et de voir si mon apprentissage peut réellement commencer.

« Bienvenue dans mon cours Emily : je serai ravi de t'apprendre deux ou trois trucs avec ma petite expérience ».

J'ai souri bêtement…

« - Merci Mr. Mauro"

- Appelle moi Vinny ou Vin ! Personne ne m'appelle comme ça ! Quelle horreur…

- Avec plaisir Vinny, merci beaucoup ».

On prévoit donc de se revoir lendemain pour commencer vraiment les cours.

Au moment de se dire au revoir, il me tend la main. Mais il ne se contente pas de me la serrer professionnellement : ça ressemble plutôt à une caresse et sa main reste un peu trop longtemps dans la mienne. Il me regarde droit dans les yeux. Ils sont magnifiques, un peu verts. Il me sourit et me souhaite une bonne soirée. Je rougis de la tête aux pieds et le remercie.

Je fais demi-tour et pars presqu’en courant, en me demandant ce qui s'était passé entre nous et si je m'étais fait un film et s’il était comme ça avec tout le monde.

Après tout il s'agit d'un musicien qui a l'habitude de séduire les foules et les groupies en chaleur, et s'il est comme ça avec ses fans il doit en ramener beaucoup dans son lit !

Mais le soir en rentrant chez moi je ne peux pas m'empêcher de penser à son regard sur moi, son sourire, sa façon de parler, de bouger, d'être passionné par ce qu'il fait, tout en étant décontracté et un peu désinvolte. Un cocktail très excitant alors que j'avais toujours été plutôt attirée par les gothiques torturés aux cheveux noirs et piercings.

Je prends une douche froide pour me calmer et j'essaye de dormir tant bien que mal, tout en ne pouvant m'empêcher de penser à lui.

J’ai passé une partie de la soirée à regarder des photos et vidéos de lui, lorsqu’il est sur scène il est incroyablement sexy et torride. Voir ses bras et ses mains frapper les fûts, puis regarder la foule et crier les paroles des chansons m’a totalement déboussolée.

Les images que j’avais en tête et ce que j’ai ressenti cette journée-là ne m’étaient pas arrivées depuis tellement longtemps.

J’imaginais sa bouche et sa langue sur moi, ses mèches rouges qui m’auraient chatouillé l’intérieur des cuisses pendant qu’il m’aurait fait jouir, ses doigts experts en moi, ses beaux yeux verts qui m’auraient regardée par en bas. Il aurait, une fois que j’aurais joui, fait des baisers le long de mes cuisses et m’aurait léché les seins pour ensuite venir m’embrasser pour que je sente mon propre goût pendant qu’il m’aurait dit à quel point j’étais délicieuse. Il m’aurait ensuite pénétrée délicatement le temps que je m’habitue à sa taille avant d’accélérer le rythme et me donner des coups de reins puissants et langoureux.

Ce scénario m’a fait avoir 3 orgasmes coup sur coup ce qui ne m’était jamais arrivé.

#vinny mauro x reader #motionless in white fanfiction #miw fanfic #motionless in white #vinny mauro #vinny mauro smut #vinny mauro fanfic

6 notes · View notes