#THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE SORRY

[ayzaart]

yoshiki, hikaru, and hikaru

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[kurooh]

You work is top notch 🤍

Could you maybe write the MHA boys being drunk and gropey with Reader?

DRUNK ‘N NASTY.

⟡ includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōto, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, fluff & smut, alcohol and drinking, groping, car sex, denki&sero share an apartment in bakugo’s, breeding, dry humping.

⟡ notes: thank you so much <3!

— MIDORIYA IZUKU

when he’s been drinking, izuku gets clingy; he’ll grab you all over, cheeks pink as he looks at you with dazed adoration. but, he gets horny really quickly — he’s just sitting beside you, staring at your thighs and the way they squish against each other as you cross your legs and boom! he’s rock hard.

“izuku! are you seriously hard right now?” you slur before taking another strong shot. the sweetened vodka rushes down your throat, and you wince a little at the burn, back straightening.

“god,” he groans out of nowhere, and you turn towards him, crossing your legs on the bar stool.

“what, baby?”

“you’re just so..” he drifts off, grinning stupidly as he searches for the right words. “so beautiful! and you look so soft, i want to touch you so bad.”

he scoots his stool towards you, hands reaching towards your thighs; he rubs at your plush skin, digging his nails in a little as he feels himself get harder. “a-and, i really want you to sit on my face right now!”

“izuku!” you attempt to hush him when a few people turn due to the loudness of his voice. “you can’t say that, we’re in a bar right now!”

“well, let’s go then,” he suggests nonchalantly, stumbling when he hops off his barstool, “let’s go home.”

later, you’re sitting on his face, and right after you cum, he falls asleep.

— BAKUGŌ KATSUKI

when he’s sober, he’s mouthy and snarky, but when he’s drunk, he’s even worse. regardless of who can see him, or where he is, his lips are either on yours or all over your neck. sometimes he’ll realize where he is—around your shared friends—and he’ll whisk you away to somewhere more private.

“eww dude, we don’t wanna see all that,” denki exclaims, dramatically retching and gagging at the sight of katsuki covering your neck in needy kisses. his large hands grip the plush skin of your hips and then slowly slide upwards.

“shut the fuck up, ya damn extra!” katsuki snaps, groping at your tits before he finally grabs your hand and pulls you up from your seat on the couch.

your drink sloshes in your cup as you allow him to pull you along, and he whisks you away to denki and sero’s bathroom. before the door even closes, he’s on you, caging you against the sink. “katsuki!” you exclaim against his lips, voice caught between a gasp of surprise and a moan of excitement. the cup, half full of liquor, falls to the floor and spills, ice cubes sliding on the tile.

“all mine,” he grunts, his big hands squeezing at your thighs, spreading them before he angles his knee between them. he’s kissing you so hard you feel your head spinning, your pussy throbbing with need. katsuki hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, peels both away with an impatient grumble.

“fuck me hard,” you beg, dripping.

“when don’t i?” he rumbles into your neck, slipping off his pants and boxers. katsuki’s needy cock presses against your thigh, thickening even more when you wrap your hand around it firmly.

“that’s right,” he groans, squirming, “push my cock inside you—ughhh.. good girl.”

— TODOROKI SHŌTO

sho gets super happy and horny after a few strong shots; he’s intertwining your fingers with his, very sneakily trying to pull your hands into his lap. if you’re in an area where it’s possible, he tugs you close and sits you on his lap; he’ll spoil the intimate touch with some grinding or groping.

“sho!” your face burns as he languidly drags you against his lap, clothed cunt rubbing over his hardened cock.

shōto’s fingers intertwine with yours, his palms warm and just a little sweaty. a hushed groan escapes his lips, and he looks from where you’re sitting on his lap to your face, scrunched with pleasure.

“sho, quit teasing me, i—” he shakes his head immediately.

“mm mm, just a little longer.. feels so good.”

he wants you to be begging for him, soaked all the way through your clothes. through a few layers of clothing, you can feel his thick cock, even feel the ridge of his tip.

“s-shōto, faster,” you whimper, and he obliges, moving your hips on him but also thrusting up against you. it feels like the room is spinning when his cock thickens and throbs, and his head is pounding when he buries his face in your shoulder, cumming in his pants with a “mmmh, shit, i’m sorry—”

but you don’t care, moving with a pace that’s desperate yet brutal for his sensitive cock. cum seeps through clothing as you moan, practically riding him — a spot of dampness appears on his pants, where his crotch is, and yet he doesn’t even notice, too focused on the way you’re moving.

he moans, sensitive, and you swallow it with your kiss swollen lips. “shōto,” you whimper, pussy squeezing as your slick starts to soak through your thin panties, “bend me over and fuck me after this, okay?”

— TAKAMI KEIGO

oh god, the second the alcohol starts to affect him, he’s grabbing you all over before he eventually takes your hand and leads you out to the car. he ignores the other people at the bar who start to question why he’s heading to the car, only focused on you.

“ah! keigo, fuck!” drool drips from your lips as you stare up at your boyfriend from between your knees. looking absolutely enthralled by you, he pushes your calves further against your chest.

his wings are entirely spread out, taking up most of the backseat and blocking the windows. he groans, whiny and deep, “y-your pussy feels so fucking good, oh— ‘m gonna fill you up, need to so bad..”

tears fall from your eyes as you nod vigorously, clawing at his forearms in your eagerness. “inside me, wan’ it inside, kei!”

creampies always felt so much better when the two of you were drunk — he would always unleash this inner breeding kink of his, rambling on and on about filling you up until your belly was eventually swollen.

“y-yeah?” he asks, pushing deep as he unloads his cum inside you. “o-oh, fuck.. take it, baby, take it!”

keigo looks downwards, noticing the creamy ring around the base of his cock and the flexing of your cunt. the look of sheer bliss on his face has your eyes rolling back, legs shaking.

“oh, dove, you’re so pretty when you’re full of my cum.”

[6gumi]

oh my! what a naughty bunny!

synopsis﹒honkai star rail men n’ their bunny girlfriend !

pairings﹒boothill 、sunday 、dr ratio 、aventurine 、gallagher x bunny fem!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. mild dacryphilia ( dr ratio 、sunday ) 、mating press ( gallgaher . . . becuz he’s big ) 、spanking ( dr ratio ) 、fingering ( aventurine ) 、cunilingus ( aventurine ) 、blowie ( sunday ) 、dirty talk ( boothill ) 、 some of them tug on ur ears :> 、petnames ( bunny 、sugar 、etc ! )

note﹒i am slowly catchin’ up in honkai star rail so i decided tew write these ! ! :33 been thinkin’ hard about dis anyways so . . it doesn’t hurt to write a lil sumn ! mistakes might be found . . | reblogs are highly appreciated. feel free to send me an ask if you would like to talk t’me or send a thirst/rq ! — millie ♡

୨୧ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

boothill couldn't help but chuckle at your pathetic attempts to resist him, you were the one who wanted him first and begging for him to fuck you . . . why are you changing your mind now? your struggles were utterly adorable and only further fueled his desire. “oh sugar," he muttered gently, reaching out to cup your chin. his eyes softened as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. the cowboy knew your body was aching for release, the desperation and excitement coursing through your veins. "i can’t understand ya, baby," he whispered, leaning in close to your ear. "do you want me or nah? ‘cause i’ll walk ‘outta this room if you keep whinin’ and grindin’ against me like this, be vocal. tell me what ‘cha need.”

“n—no! don’t wanna!”

“don’t wanna what, bunny? use ya words.”

“i . . don’t want you to walk out . .”

“good girl. see, wasn’t s’ hard to use your words, yeah?” boothill chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he met your gaze. His eyes darkened with desire, but there was still a playful twinkle within. “such a slutty bunny,” the cowboy gave you a wicked grin, his hand trailing down your exposed stomach, stopping just above your panties. the fabric was damp from your arousal, and he couldn't help but smirk. “listen baby, ima reward you if you're a good girl . . a real pleasure show for a real naughty bunny like you."

your ears twitched at his words, squealing when he pulled you even closer. “am not a naughty bunny . . .” “yeah? ya sure?” his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "we’ll see about that. we’ll see how long you’ll last with my cock inside this pussy. trust me, sugar . . . you'll enjoy it more than you ever thought possible. just like the slutty and naughty bunny you are.”

୨୧ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

“now now, don’t cry," sunday soothed, his voice low and sultry. “we’ve got a lot of time tonight, sweetheart. maybe i’ll teach you a few lessons on how to suck on my cock properly . . you’re quite sloppy, my beloved.” sunday echoed, his monotone voice full of amusement as he leaned down, capturing your tearful gaze with his own. he gently lifted your chin, his thumb wiping away a stray crystal tear. his dick twitched in your throat when he kept his gaze on your teary eyed face . . fuck. he wanted to see more of that. “beloved . . .” he cooed, feeling the rush of pleasure course through his body as he thrust into your warm, wet throat . . his hand slowly wrapping itself around both your cute little rabbit ears, tugging you forward. he could feel you struggle, the way you gagged and choked on his length, it sent a thrill of excitement through him. your boyfriend gripped your ears tighter, guiding the movement as his thrusts grew eager.

“that’s it, angel, take it. take all of it.” sunday murmured, his voice hoarse with lust. at this point, he could feel his release building up, the tension coiling in his gut. “swallow it, choke on it, make it yours." the halovian male slammed into your poor little throat, knowing he owes you warm tea and breakfast the next morning! your moans were heavily muffled by his thick cock filling your throat. the mere sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by sunday’s grunts and your whines, increasing the tears that spilled from your pretty eyes. the wave of ecstasy crashing over your boyfriend and you knew it. his orgasm hit him like a foreign train, flooding your throat with his essence . . . holding you in place by your bunny ears.

“mmh . . . that was good, my little angel." his hand traced over your cheek, “but we might have to work on your gag reflex.”

୨୧ 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

SMACK! a loud sound reverberated around the room . . your fluffy white tail twitched in veritas’ hold. with a force of movement, he pulled you up . . . using your tail as a leverage as he chuckled, smacking your ass again . . . you could almost feel it warming up. “naughty bunny you are. you thought it was a good idea to send me erotic pictures?” veritas’ fingers worked on your skirt, pulling it up and off. he discarded it on the floor of your shared room, leaving you in your underwear. dr ratio couldn’t help but bite his lip at the sight of your tears streaming down your face, murmuring pleas for him to pound you. aeons . . . you were such a naughty bunny. the naughtiest bunny he’d ever come across. " . . . foolish girl. your desires have consequences," he growled, “you’re a naughty slut. it’s like you’re begging me to pound you when you cry like that . . .” he adjusted himself, positioning himself at your entrance.

he raised a brow, admiring your precious submission he yearned for. the sight of you pleading for more, bunny ears twitching, breasts bouncing invitingly, your sparkly-like eyes that produced tears, sent shivers down his spine. he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. his tongue delved deep, tasting his bunny’s need and desire. dr ratio wanted to push you further, testing how far he could take you before breaking point. pulling away, his large hands found themselves on your ass again, running his hands along your flesh . . , raising it for another smack. “you’re insatiable, aren't you? let me remind you again, girl, bad bunnies get punished for being naughty. or have you forgotten that?”

୨୧ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

your boyfriend’s eyes lit up at the sight of your pussy, glistening with desire. he loved every part of you, basking in the warmth of your body as he chuckled . . . reaching up to caress your little ears that he wouldn’t trade for anything else. “damn, you're soaked," he murmured, licking his lips. "i can't wait to taste you.” aventurine moved closer between your legs, pushing your thighs apart further with a smirk, flicking your bud with his thumb. “spread them wider for me, bunny." aventurine’s eyes widened as he saw how wet you were. he had to fight the urge to dive headfirst into your pussy. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "you’re so ready for me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. with an eager nod, he slowly slipped his two fingers inside, filling you up pure lustrous intent. “m—more ‘turine . . .” a soft chuckle emitted from your boyfriend as he lowered his head, licking your inner thighs. "i know bunny, i know what i’m doing.” but yet, he wanted to hear you beg for it, to know that you desired him as much as he did you.

“c’mon baby . . . say this for me.” his tongue flicked against your outer lips, tasting your sweet nectar. "say . . “please, aven” . . .” he begged himself. "eat me out." his eyes fluttered open, narrowing dangerously . . . he couldn’t help but devour you with his gaze. “ . . please aven . . ‘w—want you to eat me out.” “that’s my good bunny.” aventurine’s tongue darted painfully slowly in and out of your pussy, teasing your walls. as he licked and sucked your clit, his fingers explored the depths inside your pussy, the gambler wanted to touch every inch of you, to know your body better than his own. he was determined to make you cum hard, just like he knew you'd make him. although in the back of his mind, he knew he had to fill out the paperwork that’s been due for days! but right now, all he cared about was making his cute bunny scream his name. he wanted to make you forget about everything else in the world in that dumb little head of yours except for him.

୨୧ 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑

you were so small against him. not only was he obsessed with your cute lil’ rabbit features, he was also obsessed with how cute and adorable you were against him, legs he had to restrain with his own hands due to you moving around too much . . . your cries echoed in the room, punctuating your passionate lovemaking. each groan fueled his dominance, reinforcing his love for you. gallagher gently placed his hand over the bulge on your belly, biting his lip at the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your belly, grunting when he caught sight of your ears twitching. shit, you were adorable. “fuck, you’re fuckin’ tiny, baby, i could break you whenever i please if i wanted to.” his cock reached the deepest parts of your pussy in this position, knowing he wouldn’t last long with your legs pinned up against the mattress.

with a tug of your ears, gallagher savored the sound of your cries, your body folding under his weight . . your pussy taking his big dick so well heightened his arousal, driving him further into depravity. his thrusts grew more fervent, each one a declaration of love. “. . ‘m foldin’ you left and right, baby. see how good your pussy sucks it in?” with a growl, his hand gripped your ears lightly . . . sparking something primal within him. gallagher kissed you roughly like a starved man, bruising lips colliding fiercely with yours as his tongue invaded your mouth. the harsh mating press position made it harder for you to move around, trying to keep up with his harsh movements and thrusts at the same time! heavy breathing filled the room, punctuated by occasional cries of lust and pleasure. gallagher was taking what he wanted, his lil’ bunny girlfriend.

© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.

[jinx-xxed]

Omg this idea has been simmering in my head for days SO, we've seen protective Remmick and we love but I'd love to see protective reader ngl! I'm thinking like obviously Remmick is the more experienced vamp here BUT I feel like sometimes he gets cocky and plays around too much and he'd get himself into trouble sometimes, in comes feral no-nonsense reader, on some guard dog shit lol. I think it'd be interesting to explore how he'd feel about being protected after he's been alone and had to be independent for so long.

And I just wanna finish this by saying thank you! I love your writing, its so comforting. <3

Wrangled Heart

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Tysm for giving me this request!! I really appreciate you thinking my writing is comforting, that’s the biggest compliment <33 I had tons of fun writing this one and exploring the reader character!! It’s a little different from my normal stuff and I enjoyed it! Also I’ve been watching a lot of Godless recently so I couldn’t help leaning into that western vibe a bit :^) I hope I’ve done this idea justice for you <3!!

Summary; Remmick gets himself into trouble, but luckily he has you to save him.

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, angst to fluff, cowgirl reader, vampire reader, you own a farm, vampirism, hive-mind, shared pain, getting turned, Remmick saved your life, now you save his, protective reader, stubborn reader, vampire hunters, blood and injury, you get kinda fucked up, sharpshooter reader, you chew Remmick out, very pathetic Remmick, eating out, fingering, slight dom reader, Remmick cums in his pants, heavy aftercare, soft Remmick

Wc; 7.9k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

It’s two hours until sunrise when you feel it.

A sudden, sharp pain in your side that makes you gasp, makes the bowl you’d been holding fall from your hands and shatter on the wooden floor. You clutch at the unseen injury, wondering if some organ inside of you just ruptured, if that’s even possible for a vampire. The next one hits your left leg, right below the knee, nearly sending you to the ground with a loud curse. You grip onto the counter for balance, your claws coming out on instinct to scratch at the polished linoleum.

You hunch over, your fanged teeth gritted and your breath coming in shallow pants as new phantom injuries bloom along your body. You have to struggle to push through the forefront of panic in your mind, quiet the alarms so you can think rationally. You force yourself to calm, to realize you aren’t being attacked as the pain quickly dulls to nothing more than an itch beneath your skin. You understand these sensations, have felt them enough times before for there to be a sinking feeling in your gut.

You reach out towards the bond, the invisible tether that ties you directly to the beast that turned you, to Remmick. You follow it across the distance between you, the thing pulled tight like a bowstring, quivering with each other’s thoughts, emotions, and memories. Your head swims with flashes of the night through Remmick’s eyes, of unfamiliar men surrounding him, the scent of his blood thick in the air, his fear laced through it like a toxin. He struggles against the men but it’s futile in his state, his fangs flashing in attempts to fight them off. He gets punched in the jaw so hard that it snaps you back into your own body, the ache of the hit resonating in your teeth.

“Goddamnit, Rem.” You snarl under your breath, already turning on your heel and dashing upstairs. You’re quick to shed your nightgown, swapping it for your well-worn pair of work pants and a button up, then shoving your feet into your sturdy boots. You grab your cowboy hat off the hook you always put it on, securing it onto your head and snatching your hunting rifle resting just above it. You sling the strap of it across your chest because even with your claws and fangs and inhuman strength, you’ve never been able to give up your gun.

You burst out the front door of your farmhouse, immediately running towards the stables around the side. You haul the gate open, hurrying to the stall of your trusted horse, Ranger. She’s the granddaughter of the horse you’d had thirty years ago, each line of her family always being your chosen favorite. Ranger’s brown and white pelt is sleek and well groomed, her dark mane straightened, and her hazel eyes wide and alert, like she was ready for you. She huffs at you, her foot stomping once at the fact you’ve disturbed her rest. “I know baby, I know. I’ll make it up to ya, I promise.” You coo as you secure the saddle to her back with practiced ease.

As soon as you’re seated atop her, you bring her out from the stables and press your legs against her sides to urge her into a full gallop. Her hooves pound into the dirt as she breaks your property line, following your guidance towards the woods in the east. You let your bond chart your course, the rope that connects you to Remmick getting shorter and shorter by the minute. The remnants of the moon just barely illuminate the forest path, the one that’s been walked and trodden hundreds and thousands of times before. It runs miles into the untamed trees, lined with thick underbrush that rustles with the inhabitants of these woods that fall silent as your horse sprints past.

The deeper you go, the thicker the scent of panic and terror becomes. You can taste it on the roof of your mouth, can feel the way it makes your muscles tense like you’re the one being hunted. Your breath is sharp in your lungs, each one a little constricted with anxiety, not knowing what you’ll find at the end of the tether. It’s when there’s only a good fifty feet between you that you pull on Ranger’s reins, bringing her to a halt to dismount. You hide her amongst the bushes, tying her lead around a tree to keep her in place.

You soothingly run your hand along the bridge of her nose. “Be good for me, sugar. I won’t be long.” You promise, placing a kiss on her muzzle, Ranger’s head leaning up towards your touch.

Your steps are careful as you continue forward on foot, each step too light to possibly be human. You take off the strap of your rifle in a smooth motion, the weight of it familiar in your hands, loaded and ready. It feels like every part of you is on edge, your eyes wide, ears perked to any possible sound. You veer off the path to the right, concealing yourself in the underbrush, following the smell of blood and the constant, invisible tug that you accepted a long time ago.

Your grip on your gun tightens when you begin to hear snippets of conversation, of voices who aren’t concerned with disturbing the sanctity of night. They’re loud, crude, tinged with cruelty, and ones that you don’t recognize. You sneak forward until you reach a small clearing, stopping just at the edge of it, anger bubbling inside you at the sight of what’s before you.

Remmick slumped against a tree, his weakened body bound with thick rope, blood staining his torn clothes and skin, one eye swollen shut. He’s surrounded by five hunters, each of their outfits like an armory against your kind. Silver blades and bullets, wooden stakes, bits of garlic, and crosses around the necks. They laugh with each other, their faces concealed in shadow, their horses clearly uneasy.

“Can’t we talk this out, fellas?” Remmick coughs, his voice strained and cracked.

“Ain’t no talkin’ with the devil.” The man still sat on his horse sneers. You immediately connect that he’s the leader, something shiny like a badge pinned to his breast.

One of the hunters, the youngest one by the looks of him, crouches in front of Remmick. He digs his fingers into the vampire’s short black hair, his boldness near startling as he yanks Remmick’s head back. He winces at the rough motion, his fangs showing from his drawn lips. “This the one we been lookin’ for, ain’t it?” The hunter asks. With his free hand he draws a phantom line across Remmick’s neck, calculating. “Should we bring his head back for the sheriff?”

Another one scoffs. “If we can keep it from burnin’ up.”

“Easy enough. Just wrap it in one of them tarps or somethin���.” A third chimes in.

The younger man holding Remmick releases the vampire, leaving his head to fall limp with a small groan. The hunter motions to one of his companions. “Here, gimme yer knife.”

The other one, the lower half of his face covered in a thick beard and mustache, grumbles. “You ain’t bring yer own, boy?” He says while reaching back to his sheath.

“I forgot it, now just give it to me.” The other one says with an eye roll, making a grabbing motion with his hand.

The knife never gets to reach his grasp before a bullet cuts clean through his skull.

You’re quick to reload, shooting a second one dead before true chaos ensues. The hunters yell as their two buddies fall to the ground with blood splattering against the grass and horses rear up, shrieking to the skies. They search for the source of the gunfire before seeing the gleam of your eyes between the trees. “There’s another one of them monsters!” The hunter on the horse shouts, immediately aiming a pistol at you, firing without restraint while trying to keep his animal steady.

The bullets splinter the trunk you’d darted behind, following your path as you dash through the bushes. One manages to catch your arm, cutting through your shirt and burning the skin beneath with a hiss. You toss your own rifle aside, charging the clearing with sharpened teeth and extended claws. You jump up to tackle the leader off his horse, his surprised scream ringing in your ears as you both hit the ground hard. He thrashes in your hold, kneeing into your stomach, slamming the butt of his gun against you again and again in a desperate attempt to shake you off.

It doesn’t work before your fangs are digging into his neck, tearing his skin apart, letting his blood fill your mouth like it’s fresh water. It lights up your veins with a newfound strength, quieting the hunger that’d been pricking the edges of your mind. So focused on the man below you, you barely have time to react to the one that had come up behind you. You try to roll out of the way, but it doesn’t stop the knife from being buried in your side.

You screech as agony explodes through your body, your own blood pouring out around the blade as the hunter withdraws it. You attempt to lunge at him, to take him down like you did their leader, but you’re slammed into before you can. You’re shoved harshly against a tree with enough force to make something crack, the bearded man’s face a whirlwind of fury, his fists hitting your abdomen. He pulls you forward only to ram you into the trunk once again, your right shoulder dislocating with a loud pop. You see stars for a split second, your voice leaving you in a whoosh from the pain.

Remmick is fully alert now, straining against the ropes that bind him, your appearance giving him a new vigor. His red eyes are wider than the moon as he watches you, his mouth dropped open, fangs glinting and shiny with his saliva. His own thoughts are a chorus in the back of your mind, full of rage and awe:

My love. Don’t hurt her. Kill them all. My wife. So strong. Mine. Kill them, kill them-

“Shoot her!” The bearded one shouts, gritting his teeth as your claws drag along his arm.

Just beyond him you can see the other one taking aim, hoping to get you between the eyes. Right as his finger rests on the trigger, you bring your knee up into the gut of the man holding you hostage, a choked sound coming from him. You use the blaze of your pain as energy, dragging him forward as a gunshot rings in your ears. The bullet lodges into the man’s back, right above his heart, his yell being cut short. You let him fall to the ground, leaving the last one shaking in his boots, indistinguishable prayers whispered through his teeth.

His hands are quivering too much to take proper aim, so even in your bruised and bloody state you manage to dodge his bullets. You bring him down, ignoring the pain he tries to inflict with kicks and hits, your teeth opening his neck for you to drink from until he goes still.

Silence rings in the clearing as you sit up, your chest heaving, every part of you feeling like it’s covered in blood, and you have no idea what’s yours and what isn’t. You stagger to your feet, stumbling towards Remmick. You pick up your hat that had fallen off along the way, placing it safely back atop your head.

“Yer the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.” Remmick says when you reach him.

“Will you shut your damn mouth?” You snap, in no mood for his syrupy flirting while trying to undo his ropes with your one good hand.

His response is near instant. “Yes ma’am.”

As you work, you notice the man who got shot is still twitching on the ground. You can sense the way his life is quickly thinning, his quiet gurgles a plea for death. “Go eat.” You tiredly tell Remmick as you finally get his binds undone, sicking him on the hunter like a dog. It’s not like he deserves the free meal, but it’ll keep you from having to deal with him bitching and moaning about his injuries all day long.

Remmick visibly swallows, almost in disbelief of your graciousness. “Th-thank you, baby- yer so good t’me-”

You roll your eyes, watching as he latches onto the hunter, his noises finally going quiet as Remmick finishes him off. The sloppy sounds of his eating breaks the quiet and you see the way his numerous wounds steadily begin to heal. The discoloration on his skin disappears, the worst of his cuts closing at the edges. When he’s effectively sucked the man dry, you yank him up by the collar, blood soaking his front, a new shine to his eyes.

“Let’s go.” You say, ignoring the way Remmick bristles when you sidestep his offered support, his desire to try and help you in your injured state. You’re still too pissed to take it, to let your pride fall any further.

There’s two horses that ended up sticking around for the bloodbath and with a whistle, you get them to follow you. There’s always been something about you that draws animals to you, even with your supernatural attributes. You pick up your rifle you’d tossed aside when you pass through the bushes you’d hidden in just minutes prior, securing that strap across your chest once more.

With the horses on one side and Remmick on the other, watching you carefully, you make your way back to Ranger. She’s waiting for you right where you left her, ears swiveled forward, tail swishing behind her. You pet her with your working hand. “That’s my good girl.” You coo at her, undoing her lead. You swing yourself onto her back with some effort, hissing as the wound in your side oozes more blood, healing ever so slowly.

Remmick and Ranger watch each other uneasily, neither of them ever being real fond of the other. She takes a single step away from him, a snort blowing out of her nose with a shake of her head, making him hesitate. You grit your teeth together. “Remmick, so help me God, if you don’t get your stupid ass on this horse I’ll leave you out here to burn.”

He grumbles indistinctly but he steps forward and braces his hands on the saddle, not wanting to face any more of your wrath. He tries once but between his injuries and Ranger’s shifting, his foot slips and makes him stumble. The same thing happens a second time. “It’d help if you kept this damn thing steady.” He snaps.

You scoff. “Not my fault she don’t like you.”

He finally gets up on the third try, situating himself behind you, his chest comfortably pressed to your back. His hands come to your sides, some of your blood sticking to his palms but it doesn’t bother him any. You allow yourself to relax into his touch as you nudge Ranger into a trot, the other horses following behind. Part of you is relieved to feel Remmick’s body weight against yours, his thumbs drawing gentle, apologetic circles on your hips, knowing you very well could’ve lost him tonight. His presence has become so oddly steady and important in your life, it has been for years, and you don’t quite know what you’d do without it anymore.

It was a long time ago when you first met him, found him bleeding in your barn, not looking much different than he does now.

It had been the middle of the night when you were woken by the pigs causing a racket, squealing to the high heavens. You’d jumped out of bed, not even changing out of your night gown before you were grabbing your rifle, putting on your boots, and running outside. You’d thought for sure some big bad animal had managed to weasel into the barn, had gotten past your fences and locks.

The barn door was ajar, unlocked like someone or something had slipped inside and didn’t bother closing it behind them. You’d scowled and tightened your grip on your gun, holding it steady in front of you as you stepped past the doorway. There was only one light, a dim overhead that you kept on during the night, illuminating the place in a sickly yellow glow. The first thing you noticed were the splatters of red on the concrete floor, like somebody had dragged something bleeding across it. It led all the way to a back corner, the one closest to the goats.

The pigs were still throwing a fit, running around their pen, squealing to each other. Some of the other animals had joined in; goats were bleating, chickens were clucking in their coop, and from the smaller barn outside, you could hear your two cows mooing with everything they had. It was a proper cacophony. A few of them quieted when they saw you, knowing you were here to take care of whatever threat had invaded their home, giving you a chance to think above the noise.

The closer you got to that corner, the more you could make out some kind of lump that wasn’t there before. The stench of death and blood wafted from it, making your stomach churn. At first, the lump didn’t budge… but you moved a little too loud, your boot crunching a loose clump of hay, and then there was a flash. A flash of red eyes, more animal than human with the way they reflected the light that barely reached, a flash that had you gasping and your finger flying to the trigger. The red faded into a deep blue so quickly you thought you imagined it, now left with a babbling man instead of a monster.

He shied away from your gun, backing himself up even further, shaky hands in front of his face like protection. His body was laced in wounds, beaten, bloody, and bruised, his clothing torn and soaked with red. His voice was fractured, coated in a thick southern drawl. “Please- please have mercy I- I ain’t have nowhere else to go they- they was chasin’ me I- just for the night ma’am, please-“

You nearly shoved the barrel of your gun to his forehead. “Who? Who was chasin’ you all the way onto my damn property?”

He was almost crying now, his words stumbling over one another. “Real- real bad men, ma’am- they wanted to rob me- take everything I got I- I didn’t know where else to go-“

“And you ain’t come to the house? Decided to crawl into my barn instead?” You demanded.

“I- I didn’t wanna bother ya- just needed somewhere to hide-“

You glowered. “Bothered my pigs plenty.”

“And I’m very sorry ma’am I- I promise I won’t bother ya none just- just let me stay for the night I- I’ll be gone by mornin’-“ He said, his whole body shaking like a dog left in the cold.

With the way he was bleeding, you didn’t know if he’d even last until morning. You kept staring at him, studying his dark hair, his sturdy features—he looked as if he’d known what it was like to work on a farm. “What’s your name?” You finally asked after a minute of tense silence.

He gave an uneasy smile, one that seemed too sharp instead of polite. “Remmick, ma’am. Yours?”

You hesitated before giving him your name, figuring you might as well return the pleasantry. You didn’t trust this Remmick fellow for shit but if you wanted to not deal with a dead body by sunrise and for your animals to have some peace, you needed to get him out of the barn. Regardless, your papa taught you better than to leave anyone—man or animal—to suffer. Plus, you had a gun and perfect aim and he didn’t.

You sighed, lowering the rifle by just an inch. Remmick noticed, something sparking behind his eyes like some twisted sense of hope. “C’mon then. I’ll patch you up and then send you on your way. Don’t want you ‘round here longer than you need to be.” You said, nodding towards the barn door.

His mouth dropped open just barely in disbelief, his hands coming together like he was praying. “Oh, thank you- thank you ma’am I- I owe ya my life-“

“Don’t be sayin’ that just yet.” You muttered.

You made him go ahead of you, still keeping your rifle tight against your chest as you both walked towards the farmhouse—well, more like you walked and he stumbled. You stepped into the house, expecting him to follow you, only to find he halted at the doorway, looking at it nervously. You arched a brow at the weirdo. “C’mon, what are you waitin’ for?”

You caught the subtle way his whole body seemed to react to your words, a barely there shudder and another flicker in the blue depths of his eyes. His hesitation was gone after that, immediately joining you inside with sure footsteps. You brought him into the kitchen, had him sit at your table while he looked around and you dug through a cabinet for the first aid kit. You got a bucket of water and a few rags before sitting yourself in front of him.

Remmick let you touch him without reservation, watching intently as you scrubbed the blood off his muscled arms, dabbing whatever wounds you found with antiseptic. There weren’t as many as you thought, and the ones that had seemed bad had miraculously started to close. You tried to ignore it, thinking instead that maybe he’s just a strangely fast healer.

While you were busy, his eyes had locked on to the old wedding ring on your finger, the way it caught the light drawing his attention. “Your man somewhere ‘round here?” He asked, breaking the silence so suddenly that you flinched. His voice had changed, holding more confidence, no longer a whimpering mess.

You met his gaze for just a second. “Why’re you askin’ about him? Thinkin’ of tryin’ somethin’? Think I can’t kill you myself?”

Remmick chuckled at that, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Oh I know ya could, sweetheart. I was just wonderin’ what kinda man sends his wife into the barn alone with a gun to fend off a beast.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Yeah? And what kinda beast are you?”

He hummed low. “Maybe the worst kind, darlin’.”

You scoffed, nearly laughing in his face. “Yeah, right. You’d die to a bullet just the same.”

Before he could respond, you took his face in your hand, bringing him closer so you could wash off the dirt and blood. “My husband ain’t around anymore.” You said. “Hasn’t been for five years. Sickness took him.”

“M’sorry.” Remmick managed to say despite the way you squished his cheeks.

You shrugged. “Don’t be. I miss him every now and again but I’ve been handlin’ myself and this place just fine.”

You sat back when you deemed him clean enough, free of all the blood on his skin with a couple patches over the worst of his injuries. You gave him a pair of your husband’s old clothes, ones that fit him surprisingly well, and brought him into the living room, showed him the couch. “You can stay here for the night but if you move from here I’ll shoot you, understand? And I want you gone by mornin’.”

Remmick nodded earnestly. “Yes, ma’am. Thank ya for your kindness. If there’s any way I can repay ya-“

“You can repay me by bein’ gone, and not bringin’ anymore trouble ‘round here.” You said sharply, to which he just nodded again and took his place on the couch.

It was over for you after that night, because Remmick never left. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you let him stick around, to turn your home into his as well. It didn’t help that he was already enthralled with you from the first moment he saw you. With your rugged and earthy scent with a hint of something sweet beneath it like it was buried a long time ago, your complete lack of fear, and those sharp edges that he wanted to see every side of, he couldn’t get enough. It made him stay, made him watch you curiously and follow you around to see what you did.

He fit into your life like some puzzle piece you didn’t know you were missing. Though he was definitely an odd one, you didn’t question it. Didn’t question the way he never ate the meals you cooked, the way he stayed far from open windows, the way he always slipped out in the middle of the night when he thought you were sound asleep, the way his eyes caught the candlelight wrong. You didn’t question why he never stepped foot outside during the day, or why he came back smelling like rusty metal in the morning.

You two lived in easy cohabitation for close to a year, with you spending your days out in the fields with the animals while he remained safely tucked inside the farmhouse. Remmick fell into farm life easily, as if it was something he’d been doing for longer than you could understand. He eagerly helped however he could when the sun went down—hauling bags of feed into the storage shed, wheeling in bales of hay, grooming whatever animals would tolerate him. Most of them didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, like they knew something about him wasn’t right. It made you laugh harder than you had in years when one of the pigs rammed into him and knocked him over.

There was one night you were in the barn together, Remmick giving a few of the animals their dinner while you were high on a ladder, trying to fix some faulty wiring for the heater that had been acting up. You had been so focused on it that you didn’t realize how far you’d been leaning forward, or that the ladder had been resting on an uneven part of the floor.

Remmick wasn’t quick enough to catch you, to notice the way the ladder wobbled so dangerously, the thud and crack of your body making him violently sick. Bag of feed dropped and forgotten, he’d ran to your side. You’d never seen him so horrified as he fell to his knees, whispered no’s falling from his lips over and over while he cradled your broken body close, something within it shattered beyond repair. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, trembling hand just barely finding his sleeve to hold while you stared at the ceiling. You knew you didn’t want to die, especially not like this, but you were glad you weren’t dying alone, at least.

He couldn’t stand it—you, who had taken him in, cared for him so, who didn’t ask questions, now lying in his lap as the light visibly dimmed from your eyes. He wouldn’t let it happen, wouldn’t let you die right in front of him while there was still something he could do. He’d save you in a different way, the way he knew best, with teeth and blood and the tearing of flesh. The last thing you saw was those fangs you always tried to ignore, red eyes burning bright and fierce with desperation and need.

You woke up as something else, something new and as bloody as the day you were born. You were still you, but you knew you weren’t the same, that you never would be again. Your eyes opened to the sound of humming, a tune you didn’t recognize but felt older than the earth, a tune to lead you from death. Your breath came through your lungs in a strangled gasp, like your unfamiliar body wasn’t used to the action. You jolted harshly, your hands scrabbling at the air before a comforting, calloused hand found yours and held tight. “I got ya, baby, I’m here.” Remmick said soothingly, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. You were still in his arms, him holding you close like he was scared you’d drift away. There was nothing but relief in his crimson eyes when he saw you blink up at him, when your bones snapped back into place.

You sat up slowly, finally able to get a good look at Remmick, to see what he truly was. Blood stained his front—your blood, coating his chin and neck and the sharp teeth in his mouth. You felt your connection to him almost immediately, like the tightening of a knot, tying you to him in the deepest way possible. Every one of his memories was now yours, every thought and emotion shared between you like the flowing channel of a stream, able to flip through him like an open book.

“Re- Remmick- what-“ You tried to say, your throat struggling to remember the shape of the words or how to speak them without making them crack, like they became shredded by your new fangs on their way out.

“Easy, baby, just take it slow.” He told you, a hand gentle on your back. “Yer like me now, darlin’, hungry and wrong and violent and m’sorry- I- I just couldn’t let ya go, it was the only way. These animals need ya, I need ya. I’ll show ya everythin’ I know, I promise. You’ll always have me.”

You were slow to take to being a vampire. There was still part of you that was disgusted at having to drink blood, though you were no stranger to it because of the farm. You hated the way hunger constantly prodded at the back of your mind, you hated not being able to feel the sun on your skin anymore, not being able to sweat out in the fields with the horses.

Now unable to work during the daytime, you had to hire farmhands. Ones that didn’t question the fact they never saw you, ones that just quietly did their jobs, took their pay, and went home. You also had them take your produce into town, to sell it at the markets and bring back the profit so the townsfolk wouldn’t get too suspicious. If anybody did ask, you always said you got too busy, too caught up with caring for the farm to venture out. It made it stupidly easy for you and Remmick to slip out and find food without being discovered.

No matter what, you weren’t alone because Remmick held true to his promise, he taught you every little thing he’d learned over his impossibly long life, eager to finally be able to show you something new for once instead of the other way around. He always caught you when you stumbled, held you close when it got hard, kissed away your frustration, made all of it seem okay, made you believe in him.

It’s gotten better with time, just like it always does, and you think you’ve finally fallen into a cycle you could get used to… until there’s nights like tonight when Remmick decides to cause trouble.

You’re broken out of your thoughts as you gain view of the farmhouse, as you lead the new horses to pasture and Ranger back to her stall, freeing them of their saddles and gear. With your wounds still open and tender and closing slowly, you stagger towards the house as the sun threatens to rise over the horizon. You let the door slam shut behind you both, roughly propping your gun on the ground.

“The hell were you thinking, Remmick? The fuck did I tell you?” You demand, watching as he flinches at your raised tone, the rage simmering in your eyes.

He holds his hands up as if in surrender. “I’m sorry, darlin’, I know-“

“No, you clearly don’t know! It don’t get through that thick fucking skull of yours that you can put both of us, all of this,” you motion to the house, to the farm outside, “in jeopardy, bringing those damn hunters ‘round here, putting their bodies this close to my fucking property line. You better pray to whatever god damned you that nobody finds them before I can go back and get rid of them.”

Remmick’s face is full of regret, knowing how badly he fucked up, knowing he’s the reason you got hurt, the reason you’re so upset. “Baby please just- I didn’t mean t’bring ‘em here I- I tried to draw ‘em away but they kept chasin’ me-“

“I told you not to go east! I told you so many fucking times that there’s hunters that way, and what do you do? The fuck were you doing over there anyway, huh?” You snap, your teeth glinting with every word, your clawed hand gesturing wildly.

His body hunches in on itself like he’s trying to look smaller, more apologetic. “There wasn’t enough food ‘round here, I just-“

“God forbid you listen to me, right? I been doin’ this shit for nearly fifty years now and you still seem to think that means I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. Why do you think I ain’t fightin’ for my life every week, huh? I ain’t runnin’ from hunters and wooden stakes and holy water, I ain’t dragging them back to my goddamn home. How d’you think I do that, Remmick? I’m quiet, I don’t bother anybody, and I stay where I’m s’posed to.” You’re inches from him now, tension sparking between you, your eyes ablaze. You flinch back when your shoulder sends a jolt of pain through your body, making you groan. “And now my shoulder is fucked—again.” It’s ironic that the one that got dislocated is the same one that’s always caused you trouble, even now in your immortal life.

Remmick reaches out towards you, but you step away from his hold, making him pause, even though his frustration is clear in his expression. “Baby, just let me help-“

“Go get some water and a rag.” You tell him sharply, already making your way upstairs without another glance.

Though Remmick would usually argue, would stake his place, he knows you better than that, knows to let you have your space when you need it. He lets you disappear upstairs while he does as you told him. It’s not unusual for you to act like this, to use your anger as some type of shield against worrying about him. The anxiety that had been clenching your lungs ever since you found him in the woods has finally let go enough to allow you to breathe. In the safety of your home, you feel like you could collapse at any second, and there’s still some guarded part of you that doesn’t want to do it in front of him.

Once in your bedroom, you allow yourself to take a deep, shaky breath. You shuck off your bloody and torn shirt—another one to throw away—leaving you in your bra and pants. The cold air kisses your skin, leaves goosebumps in its wake, and reveals the mess of your other injuries. The worst is your stab wound, though it’s nearly closed now but still pulsing beneath the surface.

You move towards your record player, putting on one of your favorites, the soothing melodies filling the room and calming the fire burning in your gut. You then stand in the doorway, bracing your shoulder against the edge, drawing breath into your lungs for some kind of courage. You hold it tight as you slam your shoulder as hard as you can into the wooden frame, a choked yell and a curse forcing its way out of your throat and a newfound pain bursting through your limbs. There’s a successful pop while your vision spins and you think you’d fall to the floor if Remmick didn’t catch you in his arms first.

“Now baby, why would you go and do that?” He demands, full of concern. “You should’ve let me do it-“

“I got it just fine on my own.” You say, though your words sound strained. You make yourself stand, pushing away from him, rolling your shoulder experimentally. The functionality is back, though you can feel the residual ache that makes you wince.

You avoid Remmick’s gaze despite how he tries so desperately to catch yours, instead pretending to be focused on your blood-stained arm and god- it breaks him. He takes your hands roughly in his, making you turn towards him. “Darlin’ please- please just look at me- I’m sorry baby, I know I messed up- yer right I- I shoulda listened to ya just please look at me-“ He begs, practically falling apart at the seams at the thought of you not gracing him with your affection. “I- I can’t live in this world if yer mad at me- you can’t do that to me, baby- we’re together in this you promised me-“

The pure desperation in his voice, the undercurrent of real fear, makes you finally meet his eyes. You reach your hands up, cradling his face between your palms, watching as he shudders at the action, a shaky sigh leaving his lips. “Damnit, Rem, you scared me.” You whisper. “You got into real trouble tonight.”

His hands eclipse yours. “I know, m’sorry-“

You break off his apology with a kiss, one fierce and bruising, relishing the way he instantly leans into it. You can feel how grateful he is for your touch, like he wouldn’t care if the entire world burned down as long as you kept holding him. Your tongues brush against each other, swiping off the last remnants of blood, tasting the iron tang that’s a constant between you. He groans appreciatively, his hands finding their place on your waist, the weight of them steady and familiar.

Remmick leads you to the bed while keeping his mouth on yours, swallowing every sound you make, drinking your spit like it’s water. He sits you down gently, nudges your legs apart with his knee before his lips are trailing down your body. “Lemme make it up to ya, baby. Lemme treat ya good.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw and then down your neck, past where he bit you all those years ago. He cleans the blood off of you as he goes, the water and rag you’d told him to get long forgotten as he licks you like you’re his dessert. He kisses over your injuries, quietly urging them to heal faster, cursing the men that dared lay a hand on you.

He shimmies your pants down your legs so that all you’re left in is your hat and undergarments, though those don’t last long. Your bra and underwear find themselves on the floor, your nipples perked in the sudden chill. His palms smooth up your thighs as he sinks to his knees between your legs, spread wide to reveal your glistening cunt to him. His eyes gleam in the darkness, full of a different kind of hunger, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. “My pretty girl.” Remmick tells you, kissing the insides of your thighs, steadily building up to that first lick through your folds.

As soon as his tongue is on you, your head falls back with a sound caught between a hum and a moan. With your arousal now heavy on his taste buds, he knows there’s no holding himself back. Remmick dives into your pussy like a man starved, collecting every drop that you give him with the flat of his tongue, dragging it up through your cunt and to the bundle of nerves at the top. He sucks your clit into his mouth, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, your whines becoming louder as your hips begin to move in rhythm against his face.

Your fingers tangle in the black waves of his hair, keeping him right against your pussy—though he wasn’t going anywhere anyway. You know he loves when you pull at him, when you use him like a toy for your release. “That’s it, Rem, doin’ so good-“ you gasp, making him groan at the praise. You can feel the reverberations in your core, nothing but pure desire in them as he sucks and licks and kisses, the tips of his claws digging into the plush skin of your thighs. His cock strains painfully against his pants, and he can’t help but grind against your leg at the same time, desperate for any kind of friction.

You moan loud when he adds two fingers, stretching you open and pressing in all the right places. His tongue focuses on your clit, drawing patterns in a mixture of slick and spit while his fingers pump in and out of you with a steady pace. “Fuck- yes- such a good boy-“ You whine, Remmick shuddering from the petname, grinding his dick against you a little harder.

Remmick knows you’re close with the way your muscles tense, your pleasure becoming his pleasure between the bond that connects you, a knot forming in your lower abdomen and a fire raging beneath your skin. It only encourages him, his tongue licking across every inch of you, his fingers scissoring your plush walls, feeling the way they pulse and flutter. He whines into your cunt, humping you like an animal, chasing his own release at the same time.

With a final suck of your clit, you’re cumming around his mouth and fingers, nails digging into his scalp and your moan echoing in the room. He’s quick to follow, groaning brokenly as he soaks his boxers with his cum, the hot, wet mess pressing through to his pants, his whole body trembling. He doesn’t stop licking at you until he’s sure he got every ounce of your cum, until you have nothing left to give and you’re twitching in his grip. “Can’t get enough of ya- taste so goddamn sweet-“ Remmick pants against you when he finally pulls away to rest his head on your thigh, his chin shiny with your cum and his drool. You hum, brushing the sweat soaked curls from his forehead, his eyes closing like a content cat.

There’s a moment of pause where the room is only filled with the sounds of your shared, heavy breathing before his hand finds your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your soft skin. “Yer still upset with me. I can feel it.” He mumbles, eyes opening again slowly so they can reach yours. One tug at your bond and he can feel the way you’re still tender from the night in more ways than one, even as you act soft with him now.

You sigh and cup his face once more, holding the weight of it in your palms. The red of his irises has begun to fade, blue starting to poke through as his adrenaline dwindles. There’s so much emotion within them as he looks at you, silently begging you to be honest. “You almost got killed.” The words are quiet, like an admission of a fear you don’t want to speak into the world.

“And you saved me.” He responds, equally as quiet but with reverence woven in.

“I might not always be here to do that.” You say bluntly, forcing yourself to speak hard truths, even despite how they threaten to make him crumble. You can see the way alarm sparks in his eyes at the mere suggestion. Your thumbs rub against his cheeks. “Why didn’t you call for me? Why did you leave me to guess at what happened?”

Remmick’s face turns just slightly so he can kiss your palm. “Because if I was gonna go out, I wanted to go out knowing you were safe. But I shoulda known better.” He huffs a laugh. In truth, he’s still not used to having someone care for him deep enough to actually come for him, to be there when he needs it most after hundreds of years of being brutally alone. Even now, he struggles to understand why you do it, why you put yourself on the line for something like him.

You’re quiet for a moment, and then, “I could’ve lost you.”

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby, I promise.” He says with nothing but an earnestness so deep you have no choice but to believe him. “M’sorry, please don’t be mad, darlin’. I’ll do anythin’.”

Remmick knows he probably shouldn’t have said that as soon as you get a gleam in your eye. Your smile is soft but teasing. “If you really mean it, then you can wrangle the pigs inside later tonight.” You tell him, knowing how much trouble they always give him, running circles around him like he holds no authority at all.

His head hangs dramatically with a sigh. “Fine…anythin’ for you, baby.”

“And the goats.” You add. “Oh, and collecting the chickens. The horses too.”

He immediately sits up at that, expression terrified as bad memories spring to the forefront of his mind. “Now hold on, nuh uh, I ain’t gettin’ kicked again. I’ll do everythin’ else but those beasts.”

You laugh, taking your hat and pulling it down over his eyes, making him smile. “Alright, that’s your one exception.”

He always looks good with your hat on, especially as he tilts it back up over his forehead to rest properly on his hairline. You pull him up to kiss him, a soft, loving thing between you this time. It’s broken when your right shoulder smarts, still recovering from being dislocated, making you wince. Remmick frowns, kissing your shoulder like he could make it better with just his adoration. “How ‘bout I run you a bath? Get you cleaned up?” He offers quietly.

You hum your agreement. “Only if you join me.”

He smirks. “‘Course darlin’.”

Remmick helps you up, enjoying how you finally lean your weight against him, letting him lead you to the bathroom. He runs the hot water until the tub is full, adding the soaps and oils you like the best, holding your hand as you gingerly step into the warmth and he slips in behind you. You relax into his hardened body and gentle touch as he scrubs all the grime of last night off of you, as he rubs your shoulder with experienced hands to try and get out the aches and knots.

You stay there until the water starts to run cold, until Remmick is drying you off and putting you in your softest robe and nicest pair of pajamas. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m ’bout to break, y’know.” You tell him, even though you do appreciate the extra care. Now all clean and comfortable and your wounds gone, you can finally be at ease.

He kisses your cheek as he brings you back to bed, the sheets freshly changed and smelling like soap. “I’m just treatin’ ya like the woman I love, darlin’.”

Under the covers he brings you into his arms, holding you tight as you do the same, fingers clutching at his shirt. Your eyes drift shut, and the last thing you think is how grateful you are that you get to have him for another day.

[asiatic-apple]

congratulations, ivy! i feel like prompt no. 8 is Sylus, hmo! this is a headcanon of mine for a while now, especially he has a card that he and mc are literally hiding in the closet (immobilized) and that being in the prompt? blessed! i would love to read your take on this, and thank you for your amazing works!

Thank you, my sweet nonnie!! This was the perfect prompt for sylus. In this scenario, I imagined another circumstance where they're stuck together (no evol linkage this time…for logistical reasons). I hope it's to your liking! 😘

Side note: this was def longer than a drabble (1.4k, oops). I’ll try to write future smut reqs at my usual shorter length just to keep it fair to everyone. But for now, enjoy this longer piece!

Requests are open for my follower celebration

Close proximity

Sylus x female reader

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity got us too turned on not to fuck

Content: some tasteful manhandling, his evol is used to hold you up and kinda keep you in place, semi-public fucking, implied unprotected sex, implied creampie

This can’t be happening again. Why is it that every time Sylus is around, the two of you end up in a damn closet?

The space is barely big enough for two full-grown adults, let alone one man so large he has to fold himself around you just to keep his head from knocking the low ceiling. You’re both pressed together, your back against his chest, bodies molded tightly so you don’t bump into the walls.

His breath stirs the hair by your ear, warm and far too steady for someone in hiding. Meanwhile, you’re doing everything you can to keep yours silent and shallow, hoping to avoid detection from your colleagues just beyond the closet door.

You tense when you hear footsteps. They’re closer this time.

A sudden peal of laughter from outside makes you jump a bit, and Sylus tightens his hold around you in a gesture that’s probably meant to be reassuring. Too bad you’re only getting more worked up from how easily his hands envelop your body.

Your coworkers from the Hunters Association have no idea you're in here, just one accidental bump from being caught. One whisper too loud from being completely exposed.

And then Sylus decides to glide his hand along your hip, taking his time to map out your trembling body with his long fingers.

You stiffen. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.

Your glare is useless with your back to him, but it’s like he can sense it, causing the soft rumble of a chuckle against your back. His hand lingers too long, moving to lightly stroke his thumb over the seam of your shorts.

His lips brush against your neck and form a sly smirk. It’s like he’s daring you to react—or resist his pull.

The group outside finally moves on. Their fading footsteps and laughter disappear down the hall, leaving you in much-needed silence.

You don’t even sigh with relief. You just turn your head and hiss, “Are you insane?”

“Hm,” he hums. You can hear the smug look on his face. “That righteous act would be more convincing if you weren’t pressing your thighs together, kitten.” His fingers apply more delicious pressure against your clothed cunt as if to further prove his point.

You make a low noise of frustration—or is it a groan of pleasure—that does nothing to wipe the smugness off his face. Just to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a response, you shove at the closet door in desperation to bring distance back between the two of you.

But the door doesn’t budge. Not even a little. You try again, slower this time. Still nothing.

“Locked?” Sylus asks, his low voice a satisfied purr in your ear. It’s weird he doesn’t sound as panicked as he should be.

You glance back at him, brow furrowed. “Either that or it’s jammed. But I don’t understand how. Did someone lock it from the outside?”

“Can’t say I was paying attention.” His response is all silk and sin, brushing up the back of your neck like a tease.

You curse under your breath and try not to press against him more than absolutely necessary—though it’s useless. The closet is too cramped. And he’s too damn big. Every time you move, your ass rubs against a suspicious bulge behind you.

You huff in annoyance. “You’re enjoying this,” you accuse, trying to sound stern but only sounding out-of-breath from the desire creeping up your body.

He hums again, his arm tightening around your waist. “Let’s just say I’m not in a hurry.”

He cups you between your thighs again, fingers splayed perfectly over your whole mound. You jolt as he yanks you even closer, the heel of his palm pressing down on your lower abdomen while your ass grinds into the tent of his pants.

Your breath catches. “Don’t,” you warn, but your voice lacks any real bite.

He ignores you, instinctively knowing what you really crave. You’re secretly grateful for the loose gym shorts you’re wearing, because Sylus slips his fingers beneath the waistband with ease and simultaneously slides them under your panties.

Now there’s nothing separating smooth digits from hot, slick flesh.

He groans in appreciation of what he finds waiting for him. “You’re soaked,” he whispers, “and I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You don’t miss the delicious threat lurking in the word ‘yet’. But is this really the time and place?

“Sylus–”

“Since we’re stuck here,” he interrupts, “I might as well help you with this.”

It’s torture when he drags the pads of two fingers down your slit, collecting every drop of your arousal before gliding back up. Any resistance you had before is gone as soon as he begins to rub teasing circles around your clit.

He alternates it with the lightest dip of his finger into your entrance, barely enough to satisfy. You try to grind against him, needing more, but his grip on you is unyielding. Even with only one arm bracketed around your waist, you’re powerless against him.

You reach down to rake your nails along his forearm. “Stop teasing me,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

That only makes him chuckle. God, sometimes that laugh pisses you off just as much as it turns you on.

He pulls his fingers away, and you whimper softly at the loss. But before you can complain, he’s spinning you around, pressing your back to the door. His lips descend upon yours in a frenzy—deep and hungry, like he’s waited all night for this.

Between kisses, he makes quick work of your clothes, hooking his fingers beneath the waistbands of both your shorts and panties before impatiently yanking them down. You barely have time to step out of them before he’s working open his pants, tugging the zipper low enough just to free his cock.

Then he lifts you like you weigh nothing, pinning you to the closet door with a soft thud. With his large physique and wisps of such a powerful Evol, it’s effortless to hold you up at the perfect height so your cunt lines up with the head of his flushed, leaking cock.

There’s no preamble. You’re wet enough. Needy enough.

He pushes into you in one deep, claiming stroke.

You bite your lip to muffle your cry. But Sylus groans in earnest, not giving a damn about getting caught like this. The first few strokes are slow, splitting you open with care to make sure you can take every inch without discomfort (he knows his girth can be overwhelming no matter how many times you’ve gotten used to it).

When you’re relaxed enough, he moves faster and harder, until the wooden door behind you creaks loudly with each powerful thrust. The growing staccato of the closet door accompanying each snap of his hips is obscene and slightly humiliating.

It all makes your heart race even faster—knowing the risk and the complete insanity of what you’re doing.

Anyone could pass by. Anyone could hear. There’s nothing stopping someone from stumbling upon the unmistakable sounds of wet squelches and muffled moans. And something tells you Sylus still wouldn’t stop if that happened.

You can only cling to him as he fucks you relentlessly. His hand dips between your bodies to flick a thumb against your clit. And then you’re shuddering against the strong hold of his Evol.

Your orgasm crashes through you, overwhelming in the best of ways. You have to bury your face in his neck to keep from crying out. It becomes almost impossible to stay quiet as his thrusts turn harsher and your walls flutter around him. His own release soon follows with a sharp grunt, filling you with a final thrust and a tremble in his grip.

For a long moment, there’s only the sound of panting. Then the faint rustle of clothing after he gently brings you back to firm ground and presses a sloppy kiss to your lips.

Sylus still holds you close, letting you catch your breath before murmuring, “Try the door again, sweetie.”

You blink at him, a little slow on the uptake after being fucked so thoroughly. “What?”

His smirk is both sexy and infuriating. You recognize that look on his face all too well. Even though your glare is deadly, he doesn’t look sheepish at all when he replies, “I have a feeling it’ll open now.”

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours

Want to be added to my tag list?

Creds: mdni banner by @/cafekitsune heart divider by @/enchanthings-a

[kortac-sweetheart]

pt2/finale traitor!tf141 au

cw: some angst, hurt with lots of comfort, can be read as platonic or romantic, flashbacks to past torture, mentions of violence, military inaccuracies, reader tears 141 a new one (we all cheered), we're overcoming hedgehog's dilemma with this one boys (four times you saved them, one (and a half) time(s) they saved you) realllllly fckn long

(it's the finale part yay! i don't have any more ideas to continue this au, but asks abt it are always open)

in the months since you've joined kortac, you quickly cemented yourself as efficient, capable, and reliable in their eyes. as fundamental to the team as the very foundation of a home. your hard work in the field even earned you a new call sign, one gifted by könig himself.

wraith.

a harbinger of death, the final phantasmal apparition any enemy would have the misfortune to see. sweeping, practically dancing, through swaths of men, leaving them dropping like flies in your wake.

but if that was true, the why were you back under intensive care in the med bay again?

the latest mission had gone sideways. a simple recon mission that had went belly up due to an enemy ambush. reconnaissance turned into rescue instead. and kortac's new target?

you.

it wasn't pretty. the way they tore through the field to reach you, nearly trampling over friend and foe alike, guns blazing all the while. leaving nothing but blood and carnage in their wake, blood lust only temporarily abated before they realized the state you were in.

on the verge of passing out, bound and bloodied, battered and bruised all over again. you had certainly looked like your callsign then, pale from exhaustion and the fabric of your very being fraying once more. despite the strength of your bonds and your faith in them, doubt still gnawed at the edges of your psyche. the pain from the physical beating imposed by your captors was nothing compared to your own mental flogging.

will they come?

i hope they do.

they shouldn't come.

it's not worth it.

the mission is compromised.

i'm sorry.

the sight of könig kicking down the locked door and the feeling of someone gently bundling you into his arms was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

they came.

despite your ceaseless tears and aches, there was a small smile on your face, too.

waiting for you to wake up again was agonizing.

the four of them, huddled around your bed in the base's med bay, with only the incessant ticking of the clock and your steady breaths to break the silence. they couldn't focus on any paperwork they had brought either, too agitated, too restless, too worried, to focus on mindless bureaucracy.

horangi sat at your bedside, bent over from exhaustion and boredom, his hand clasped with yours. he remembers how you used to be, those few months ago. quiet but strong, withdrawn but not entirely cold, he could sense the smallest flicker of warmth--wanting in all your movements. despite it, you hadn't uttered a word to him at all, barely met his eyes, carrying yourself admirably, independently in action.

he remembers it as if it were yesterday, when you first spoke to him.

he was too caught up in the heat of battle, tunnel visioned whilst carving a path into enemy territory and leading the charge with you as support. you had felt the chilling, piercing gaze before you ever saw them, all but shoving horangi's head down and missing the sniper's bullet aimed for him. he had looked at you, bewildered, before you summoned the strength to speak.

"enemy sniper in the vicinity. watch your six, horangi." your comm headset then crackled to life as you relayed the message to the team.

in the grand scheme of things, it was a small gesture. a teammate saving another's life is common place on the field, but horangi still felt grateful all the same. your sharp senses, your quick thinking, your presence and the safety it brought only emboldened him on the field, knowing that you'd be there to drag him out of harm's way.

outside the field, he knew that even if you couldn't express it fully aloud, you still cared for them very much. one day incidentally, you had noticed horangi picking at his food, dissatisfied with grey slop from the mess hall. (and you were too, to be quite honest.)

eventually, you found yourself and your team stationed off base for once, waiting around in temporary housing for the start of the mission. it seemed like the perfect time to have something other than MREs.

it was a very simple meal, grilled meat, storebought kimchi, savory steamed eggs and some freshly cooked rice. but when you called them in for lunch, horangi nearly dropped to his knees and proposed to you on the spot. he had to hold himself back from positively bear hugging you into his arms, instead eagerly complimenting the meal you prepared and squeezing your hand in appreciation.

"did you like the meal hong-jin?" he could barely hear you over the running faucet of the sink whilst he helped with the dishes, but he still beamed at you regardless. (he thought that meek voice of yours asking for approval was downright adorable.)

"of course i did! thank you. i really appreciate it." he couldn't remember the last time he felt so... content. so cared for and seen. it made him feel warm inside, heart full and fuzzy and soft around the edges from your quiet attentiveness.

that's why, when you all return to base and he spots you in the early morning light, sipping on coffee all alone—he joins you without a second thought. settling down next to you on the bench in the rec room with his own cup, no words exchanged but it's warm and comforting all the same.

you don't bat an eye at his presence, as if he was always meant to be there. you carefully lean into him, your shoulder's a hair's breadth from touching his. one hand holds your steaming cup and the other gingerly fiddles with his own free hand.

(you can sense his gaze too, burning into you and hong-jin as he watched from the hallway. mactavish. burning up with jealously, regret, remorse, as he watched you two.

watched the way you slowly scooted closer to hong-jin, leaning into his side as he casually swung his arm up and around your shoulder. watched as the tension bled from your body and left you utterly relaxed and open.

he couldn't remember the last time he saw you like that. if ever. he couldn't stomach the sight anymore, stomping away from the rec room with clenched fists and a deep scowl on his face.

that should've been him.)

(whether hong-jin sensed him too, he didn't say. if he did, or if he didn't, hong-jin didn't give a shit either way. all that mattered was being in the moment with you.)

krueger sighed as he glanced at the wall clock again, only five infernal minutes since last he checked it. he then glanced over to horangi, who was now soundly snoring in his seat, his head resting in his arms. then, a shadow of a smile graced his own face as he looked at you.

he remembers how the roles were reversed before, that time you went out of your way to save him. he remembers it clear as day.

the first ever mission where you two had been assigned as partners. he had respected you immensely, your silent intensity and lack of fluff, efficient, strong, a damn good partner. the mission had went off without a hitch, until the end of it.

you didn't know how to turned out like this. one moment the building was eerily quiet and still, and the next it was a raging inferno. just moments before, you had been separated from krueger looking for the documents. and now you were running, panting as you made it outside. but, something was off when you looked around.

where was krueger?

you hesitated only for a split second before running back in, while your teammates all shouted for you to stop. but you tuned them out, focusing, clearing your mind and remembering the layout of the building, where krueger said he was headed.

you found him in the hallway leading to the security room, crawling along the floor, his leg injured in the blast. clutching the documents with one hand, and using the other to drag himself forward.

when the smoke had parted to reveal you, he thought he was already dead. your silhouette blurry and grainy around the edges, the roaring fire illuminating your face in an ominous orange. an angel of death. he felt you take the documents from his hand, resignation filling him as he thought you'd turn and run.

he didn't resent you for it. not at all, take the documents, focus on the mission, leave the baggage behind. but you didn't. you didn't leave him there. you hauled him up single-handedly, adrenaline pumping through you as you fought to remain calm and steady, whilst rushing him and yourself out of there.

you spoke to him just loud enough to hear, keeping him awake and alert.

"c'mon krueger, i'm getting you out of here."

"keep moving, this is no place to die."

"you can sleep when we're safely back on base."

"i'm not leaving without you."

and he couldn't help but wonder, why?

for a man like him, one you barely knew beyond being teammates.

why? as you two narrowly escaped the building as it completely collapsed.

why? as you dragged his half unconscious body to the evac point, as you waited with him, patching up his wounds with what meager medical supplies you had on you.

why? as you fitted the oxygen mask over his face in the helicopter. his vision fading to black from exhaustion.

you sat with him as he laid in med bay, waiting for him to wake up. you remember what it felt like, to wake up all alone with no one around. how harrowing and disorienting it was, near tears when one of your old teammates had finally gone to check on you. through his (quite insincere) apologies, you sensed his piss poor excuses.

"oh, you're awake... apologies. we were busy." he didn't look physically exhausted at all, no sweat or sign of training.

paperwork, you realized.

they were too busy doing paperwork to stay by your bedside. when it sunk in, you had merely swallowed, staring at your bandaged hands.

"it's ok." you managed to mutter, after a beat there was a small click of the door. and the sterile room faded into suffocating silence once more as his footsteps led him away.

krueger, now awake, studied your face as you glared at the wall opposite you, hands clasped together and lost in thought. watching your tired eyes growing glassy with unshed tears, he decided enough was enough.

you startled slightly when he waved his hand in your line of sight, immediately snapped out of your trance. looking to him a concerned look that crossed your face, you murmured, "how're you holding up?"

"could be worse off... thanks. for saving me back there." he can see how you melt, a little less guarded with a small smile crossing your face. even under the sterile med bay lights, eyes tired and skin a little dull, you still looked like an angel. his saving angel.

he doesn't care why you did it. all it matters is that you did, he didn't need to know why when it was written all over your face. your actions, your presence besides him spoke more than words could.

(garrick had noticed you from the hallway, watching you intently.

green with envy as you tried to stifle your giggles before breaking into a real, honest to god, belly laugh. watched as you held onto krueger's hand so you wouldn't keel over in your seat from laughter.

watched as you wiped away happy tears-- so different compared to the terrified ones he remembers you shedding before. watched as your guarded demeanor melted into something softer, full of big smiles and genuine laughs you shared with krueger.

not him. it should've been him.)

(yes, krueger noticed him. didn't see him directly but he could tell in your eyes. how your laughter flickered and dimmed slightly as you glanced at something-- someone, before he redirected you back to himself. making you laugh at his jokes, and forgetting all about garrick. good. garrick could go to hell for all he cares.)

even when krueger was able to get up and walk around, you still stuck by him. doing work in his med bay room and telling you when and where you'd leave to. whether by pure happenstance or good fortune, krueger had been awake one morning just before you'd leave for coffee.

"oh, good morning, seb! i'm going to go have coffee with horan-- er, hong-jin..." a brief nervous pause, you were considering something.

"do you... do you want to join us?" asked with such tender hope in your eyes that he couldn't possibly say no. (frankly if you told him to jump he wouldn't even say "how high" he'd just do it.)

despite the sudden appearance of sebastian, hong-jin didn't look surprised in the slightest. they shared one look with each other and they immediately understood; watching as you happily prepared coffee, humming beneath your breath with your back turned to them. that morning, and for the following mornings after that; you enjoyed your coffee happily squished between the both of them.

back in your temporary room in med bay, sebastian had now drifted off in his chair. lulled to dreams by the quiet room and pleasant memories you shared.

nikto had elected to lean on the far wall of the room, opposite your bed. muttered something about being able to see the whole room for safety. but he now surveyed the tranquil room, seeing both krueger and horangi asleep in their chairs, and you, hopefully peacefully asleep too. his eyes lingered on the teddy bear that sat dutifully at your side, as if to protect you from night terrors. the teddy bear that he got you.

it was supposed to be like any other sleepless night, awoken from fitful slumber by nightmares both real and imagined, past and present.

rest would not visit them again tonight it seems.

with practiced ease they had made their way to the base's rec room, searching for tranquility in the stillness of night. peace, away from his restless mind. sitting quietly down at the table, waiting out the night until you happened to stumble in.

there hadn't been many words exchanged between you before. but there was mutual respect-- anyone would always appreciate a hard worker like you. but now he watched quietly as you tottered over to the empty seat besides him in the rec room, attempting to muffle quiet sobs as you slumped in the chair. they weren't the only ones to have bad dreams tonight it seems.

nikto didn't know what overcame him, they shouldn't of pried. everyone on base has their struggles, but between you, it felt different; his body overcome with the urge to help, to comfort.

he spoke quietly. "night terrors?" the question hung in the air for a bit before you sniffled, and nodded. he didn't ask about what aloud, but the offer was there. there was no judgement in his gaze, but understanding. even if he didn't cry, even if his own nightmares came night after night, he understood deeply.

they sighed, standing up and went to get a pot of coffee going; if he was going to stay up all night, might as well enjoy it. but after they set a fresh cup of coffee in front of you, the dam inside of you broke and you spilled everything, with nikto and the night as your only witnesses.

sobbing into your hands and sleeves about what they put you through. how they slashed so painfully at you, spat at you, how they imprinted themselves deep into your psyche.

you told nikto you despised looking in the mirror because it reminds you too much of them and what they did to you. how you can feel the phantom edge of riley's blade glide up your face, or how mactavish punched you so hard you nearly blacked out.

how you can still feel garrick's hand gripping your wrist, holding it still as his knife comes down on your pinky, severing it with no remorse.

nikto's care for you wins out against their new found contempt for task force 141 in the end. he gets up from his chair across you, and sits besides you instead. a single palm, placed soothingly on your back.

"allow us to show you something." their hands reach their mask and, they slowly, unhurriedly undo all the buckles and belts that secure it. methodically laying piece by piece of their mask down on the table, carefully, as to not startle you. the last piece of nikto's mask comes off and you're granted a front row view of his face.

they easily read your expression, no surprise, no disgust, no pity either. they see recognition in your eyes, familiarity. it's different from all the other looks they've gotten. you don't scream or cry (anymore), nor do you try to run away, instead you sit quietly memorizing their face.

for once, they feel as if they don't hate their own face either.

"the past comes for us night after night. but we cannot allow ourselves to wallow in it anymore. what's done has been done, the best any of us can do is simply move on... and keep living." the words settled into your mind.

nikto is right.

you can't allow the 141 to rob you of your life more than they already have. you want to thank him. for his advice, for his trust in you, and you tell him to wait for a moment.

he's left alone in the dark again, but it doesn't feel suffocating anymore. even he didn't know the weight they were carrying until it was gone. although your presence is momentarily absent, he-- they trust that you will return.

and you do. they note you look a little embarrassed, but you move to sit down next to him again before handing them a little well loved teddy bear. it's plastic eyes a bit scratched and cloudy, the ribbon around the neck is loose, and the stuffing a bit lumpy. well adored.

"here." you start. he takes a moment to give it a soft squeeze, and he doesn't know why but his heart sinks and soars at the same time.

"i always hug my bear when the nightmares are too much. it makes me feel better when i hold him... so i.. i want you to have it. so that he can help you too." you can't help but feel a little childish, fiddling with your fingers as you await his reply, but no such chiding or scoff ever resounds from them.

instead, a soft "thank you. we will cherish it." falls from their lips, and that's all it takes for you to truly relax. they expect you to return to your room but you don't, staying put and keeping them company through the silent night. sometimes you talk some more, sometimes it's just your breathing that's audible, they listen intently either way.

but they watch as your eyelids grow heavier, your words slurred and drowsy, and before you can fall asleep on the hard table; nikto tucks your body into their side instead. a warm arm and a strong chest keep you securely in place, blissfully asleep.

(nikto does not move an inch the whole night. not while you're still peacefully asleep, nor when the light of dawn illuminates the room and chases away the dark, and most certainly not when a certain lieutenant walks into the rec room.

the certain someone doesn't notice you peacefully sleeping in nikto's arms until he turns around and is greeted with the sight of your peacefully sleeping face. blissfully unaware to who was in the room besides you and nikto. he looks confounded, envious even, and nikto can sense he's itching to say something. but he sends the lieutenant an icy glare, lifting a finger to his lips.

the man doth protest too much, they think. making a talking motion with his hand, before pointing at him and then making an ominous throat slitting motion with their thumb. he seems to get the memo the second time around, quickly exiting the rec room with only a single final fleeting glance towards your peaceful face.)

(your sleepy visage belies your awareness to his presence. even in sleep your body still remembers, subtly awakening when he entered the room, feeling his burning gaze lingering on you despite being in nikto's arms.)

the second visitors to the rec room are much more welcomed ones. hong-jin and seb were surprised to see nikto there, but more importantly with you curled up peacefully in his arms.

any surprise is quickly replaced with adoration as they watch you peacefully snooze for a few more moments, before they sadly have to wake you. a simple "wakey wakey sleepyhead" and a small shake from hong-jin is all that's required to wake you. (nikto and seb do give him a teasing side eye for that.)

their hearts collectively squeeze as you gradually come to, looking at all of them with a fond glint in your sleepy gaze, a soft yawn and an even softer smile.

you now share your mornings with hong-jin, seb, and andre after that. the more the merrier after all. sometimes they fight over who gets to sit next to you, and the loser of three way rock paper scissors always sulks a little, but the smile you give all of them makes up for it.

in the quiet room nikto can feel his head nodding, drowsy with sleep, so he leaves the wall. laying down, horizontal to the foot of your bed to sleep.

(rest may not so easily visit nikto, but rest is within reach wherever you are. whether that may be right next to him, or a just few feet away in your room.

he had also gone and gifted you another teddy bear. after you so graciously gifted him yours, similar but not quite the same. with big round eyes, and cute ears and a neat bow that he tied himself, along with a little heart in one paw.)

when könig looked up from his paperwork to check if you woke up yet he was met with sound of soft snores in the room. looking around, he sees his trusted teammates sleeping peacefully and lets out an amused hum.

he feels his focus slip away, paperwork long forgotten when he stares at you.

he always liked you. long before you even joined kortac, when you were still with them. he saw himself in parts of you, like how it was so hard for you to connect with your team, and how you opted to close yourself off. he liked your tenacity, your readiness to work, it was a shame that they had gotten to you first.

which is why the 141's biggest blunder was the greatest thing they ever inadvertently did for him.

he almost pitied them, those fools. they did what they did, they chose to do it, and made the biggest mistake of their lives. no where did it ever say that he couldn't benefit from their self inflicted misery.

welcoming you to kortac was one of the best days of his life. you took to the new work like fish to water, always offering to pick up the slack whenever necessary. always finishing more paperwork than required of you, training the new recruits, you ran around non stop to help others. but he didn't like how you overdid it, even when you were on the verge of collapsing asleep in the hallway you still trudged on.

he remembers being up at ungodly hours doing work when you knocked on his office door and requested for more paperwork to do, despite the bags under your eyes protesting otherwise. when he questioned you, all you could respond with was a stilted "can't sleep." and that was that. he'll let you do paperwork until you tired and then he'd return you to your room.

but he watched in abject horror as you sat there long past him, completing reports and filing things away. and you were STILL awake and doing things even after he went to bed and woke up again. (he did place you on bed rest for a few days after that, as much as you silently complained about it.)

when this behavior continued, he knew that he had to question you about it. and so he waited until your brain was a little fuzzy from exhaustion, you inhibitions giving way to the more primal parts of your psyche. when your guard was down and you could be a little more honest.

"lieutenant." his voice broke the ambience of his still office, cutting through the sound of flitting paper and scribbling pens.

you head snapped towards his immediately, despite the way your eyes fought to stay open.

"may i ask why you work so hard? you do realize you don't need to go above and beyond, ja? you're only exhausting yourself doing this."

a pregnant pause lingered in the air as you stared at the floor under his feet. your grip tightened on your pen, and he thought that you'd get up and leave entirely.

"if you don't want to answer you don't have to. i won't force you--" his sentence was cut off abruptly when you looked directly at him.

"because i have to." your voice, despite being a whisper was more akin to a bomb. he was confused, going to question further but you then continued.

"if i'm not useful anymore. then i'll be discarded again like before." your voice was the weakest he's ever heard it, vulnerable and scared. your eyes were downcast again, avoiding his piercing gaze whilst unshed tears built in your own.

the sight of your tears glimmering under the warm lamp lights quickly roused him to comfort you. corralling your shaking and sobbing body into his arms, holding you tight as you sobbed your heart out.

he didn't tell you to stop, only letting you continue emptying your emotions where it was safe. one arm around the back of your neck and the other soothing up and down your back, "it's ok, sweetheart. it's ok. i promise you will never go through that again. so long as i live, i'll be right beside you. they won't ever touch you ever again, i'll make sure of it."

right there, in that cramped office of his during a frigid night, being consoled and comforted by your colonel, what else could you do but believe him? he sounded so self assured, his tone kept soft and low, cradling you against him until you fell asleep.

(price wasn't envious of könig at all, he was the man that put you into that position in the first place. executing that god forsaken order that ruined your life and theirs.

so why couldn't he will himself to walk away when he heard the two of you talking?

hell, he could hear your sobs being muffled into könig's chest. could hear you murmur the smallest "thank you"s towards him too. but no, he was most certainly not envious of könig at all.

how silly would that be.)

(könig had most certainly known that price was outside. if not for his footsteps breaking the still night, then most certainly the camera recording would've told him. bastard just doesn't know when to stop does he. god, if you weren't positively sobbing yourself into exhaustion in his arms he would've stomped outside to tell him to go fuck himself.)

a few days after you confessed your troubles to him he awoke with a sigh, needing to talk to horangi. but he wasn't in his room. and neither was krueger. or nikto for that matter. and when he checked your room, you weren't there either. it left him scratching his head as he wandered through base in the morning until eventually stumbling into the rec room.

there you all were, on the rec room bench, bathed in the glow of early morning all sharing quiet conversation. his heart lurched in his chest at the sight of you, so happy you were practically glowing, squished between horangi and nikto.

when he was about to turn heel and flee you noticed him, calling out to him and so politely asking him to join. he froze before stiffly turning around and tottering over to an empty seat near you.

"so... this is where you all are in the mornings?" he spoke quietly, trying not to break the relaxed atmosphere.

and you piped up from your comfy place on the bench before anyone else could. "yeah! we're all here every morning. why don't you just join us from now on könig? i'm so sorry we didn't say anything earlier, you we're just really busy all the time and i ah... i guess i didn't want to bother you."

his eyes widened a fraction while his hands tensed around his coffee cup, taking a moment to mull it over. "sure. why not."

the bright grin you gave him in response rivaled the sun.

but he quickly woke from his reverie when he heard you sob. the sound still haunts him in his nightmares, blind and deaf he would still be able to tell when you were crying. the four of them snapping to attention as you contorted painfully on the bed.

you were back in that godforsaken interrogation room again.

where the lights blinded you in the darkness, where the cold nipped at your fingers and nose, where the ropes bound your body and where fear and hunger made themselves uninvited companions to your misery.

what would they take from you this time? hacking away at you more and more and more until nothing was left. your body, your mind, your pride, your soul, all fit to be chopped up and tossed aside.

what had you done this time? spoke too loudly, too much? didn't speak enough? looked at someone wrong? stood out too much? or did you try and fade into the background? it didn't matter anyway, they would hammer you down like a bent nail until it wasn't even visible on the wood's surface anymore, with only a crater left in it's wake.

oh, look. ol' skipper is here too this time. what a party it is now! the more the merrier of course, yes, why not allow price to blindly stick you with pins as if it were a mere birthday game?

what's the matter cap'n? got jealous just watching from the sidelines and wanted to join in on the fun now too? there's more than enough to play with and to discard before you get bored.

look at all the fun toys you have at your disposal! used syringes with mysterious unknown liquid, rusty pliers and nails, broken glass, a hot branding iron, and whatever other indistinguishable horrors lay on that table!

what fun will we have together today?

"sweet--" what? what was that? that didn't sound like any of them.

"sweetheart-- sweetheart wake up" were they talking to you? who was talking to you?

it was as if the ropes had melted away with no resistance when you stood up, stumbling your way to the door with warm light behind it. the torturous room falling away into the white void behind you with each further step you took.

"wake up sweetheart." the voice was coming from behind the door. with little hesitance you turned the knob on the door and with a gasp you awoke with a start. you were safe.

warm and safe. safe and warm. far, far away from that room. far away from them.

they had all deflated like a balloon, rife with heartache when you finally woke up from the nightmare. your panting and whimpers of "help" and "stop" and "please" had distressed them, watching you flail around haplessly made them want to cry. it was only when könig started to utter "sweetheart" to you that you calmed for a bit, then finally rousing from that horrid memory.

when you had registered that they were all there, at your bed, waiting for you, you nearly burst into tears again. a small wobbly smile gracing your face as you pulled them all into a tight hug.

"i'm happy. i'm so happy to see you all again. i love you all so much. thank you for waiting for me." they melted into your touch, your hug, until you pulled away and wiped at your eyes.

you muttered what had happened without any prompting from them, all too shaken up from the dream to keep quiet. "i saw them again. in my dream. i was in that room again. i think something will happen soon. it.... it felt different this time. my captain was there, too. he's usually never present in them."

they had made sure to be hyper vigilant around you that week. nearly pouncing on any of the 141 whenever they got too close or looked at you for too long. barring their teeth and snapping their jaws, before ushering you far and away from them.

but even the most hyper vigilant of hounds can't protect all the time.

it happened after you went to the bathroom during dinner. one way in, one way out, no where for you to run. at first it was mactavish, of fucking course it was mactavish. cornering you in that hallway to beg for your forgiveness, asking for you to return. what emboldened them so much this time around? oh you definitely knew. seeing you happy, oh so happy without them.

they knew their window to get you to return to them was closing, and fast. but they hadn't realized that it closed a long, long time ago. instead, your tolerance for them was dwindling, slowly, slowly draining until you'd finally explode.

mactavish just wouldn't let you go, kept sputtering on and on about how sorry he was until garrick and riley had showed up as reinforcement. at least garrick had enough balls to look you in the eyes as he begged you to return. riley didn't even look at you, staring at the tile above your head instead. allowed mactavish and garrick to do all the talking for him, the despicable bastard.

as if it wasn't bad enough to be hounded by the three of them, their ring leader had finally showed up too. strutting onto the scene with a stride far too casual to be appropriate. the man who you saw like a father, the one who tossed you to the dark without a second thought, the one who was too cowardly to show up and do the dirty work himself.

you didn't want to say anything. didn't want to give them the satisfaction of your reactions, your emotions, anymore of your life that they'd taken from you without remorse. but you had more than enough.

"don't you know when to take a fucking hint? haven't you done enough already?! when the hell did i ever say i wanted to return? what sort of message did you manage to delude yourselves into thinking was real?" you barked at them. they had looked taken aback, not expecting your outburst.

"but-- bonnie, i promise this time we'll be better! we promise! we'll take care of you--" if looks could kill, frankly, mactavish would've been a pile of ash on the floor.

"what makes you think you can take better care of me better than my own team can? where was this attitude when i first joined, huh? where was it? you don't even feel bad about what you did to me! you're just saying sorry to absolve yourselves from the guilt of what you did. like doing that could fix anything you did to me. you don't actually care and you never did! just-- all of you can go fuck yourselves."

mactavish looked like a kicked puppy but you couldn't care less at all. until price spoke up, just had to open his fucking gob didn't he.

"ye don't mean that." he muttered as you attempted to leave.

you turned abruptly to level him a nasty glare.

"oh i'm sorry. did you become a mind reader all of a sudden, price? what the hell do you even know about intention anyway? i'm pretty sure you didn't give any second thought to whether i actually intended to "betray" you all, now did you? well listen to me when i say this, if you ever try to pull this fucking stunt again i intent to make sure that no one would've ever even heard of you. i will make damn sure, that it was like you never even existed in the first place."

you had been gone for suspiciously long, their food trays abandoned without second thought as they went to look for you. rounding a corner near the bathroom they saw you muttering something to price.

they all watched as your eyes lit up when you saw your team, eagerly scampering over to them. horangi had pulled you into a hug, asking if you were ok, if they touched you all the while glaring at them. from the corner of you eye you could still see them, standing still as if you couldn't.

"what the hell are you all still standing there for? either use the bathroom or leave already, jesus christ."

as they were leaving, now, now riley thought it was a good idea to finally speak. the gall of these men is ridiculous.

"sergeant--" he started.

"that's lieutenant to you, riley." you barely spared him a glance before you turned to talk to könig once more.

"lieutenant.. we just--" could they seriously not take a hint? it's not even a hint, it's as obvious as a stop sign.

"are you that dense? do i need to sound it out for you? leave. me. the. fuck. alone. riley." he stood stock still for a few moments, looking at and searching for something on your face.

"you heard them, leutnant." he didn't even bother to look at könig, only shaking his head as he drifted down the hall.

you let out a deep sigh when they were all finally out of sight. practically collapsing boneless against könig's chest as he rocked back and forth soothingly. he patted your hair adoringly, cooing at you as they led you away, back to their barracks.

they lay you on top of konig's chest, with krueger and horangi holding you from each side, whilst nikto lies on top of you like a weighted blanket.

squished between all of them, you've never felt more content and loved. the 141 had their chance, but with you in their hands now? kortac would never, ever let you go.

one man's trash is another man's treasure after all.

taglist: @erintaro @trulovekay @rainingkatzen @blackcats-and-witchcraft @callsofthesky

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic — 3/3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3

The days following Steve’s Houdini act are fuckin’ tense, to say the least.

Eddie had messed up. Royally.

He could’ve sworn that when Steve took off, he’d ducked into the Recovery Center, y’know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie would’ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially after…

Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.

And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesus… It’s no wonder Robin’s still sore.

Now, in Eddie’s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. He’s still having trouble wrapping his head around what he’d heard; Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, the drug-dealing ne’er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! He’s not exactly Steve’s usual fare.

But it had happened.

Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of them—there’s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.

Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.

That isn’t something you just move on from. At least, it isn’t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didn’t even get to say his piece!

The trouble is that Robin’s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, she’d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isn’t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his side—much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it weren’t so goddamn annoying.

Steve isn’t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasn’t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragon…

But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robin’s brick apartment building… he'd be lying if he said he didn’t sort of feel a little shiny.

Part of Eddie can’t believe it’s really come to this, but… he just can’t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steve’s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steve’s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie he—he loved him…

Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill set—he’s way out of fucking league here, but there’s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.

So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as it’ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.

It’s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but it’ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that he’d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldn’t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder and… yep. He really shouldn’t’ve looked. He’s not that high up, but it’s enough that if he falls, he’d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.

He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.

There’s a terrifying moment where he’s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach D’Amour could see him now!

He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.

The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. It’s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadn’t noticed on the ground, but now that he’s up a couple of floors there wasn’t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.

By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and he’s woefully out of breath.

Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of what’s left.

The light in Steve’s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steve’s shut blinds.

His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what he’s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.

It’s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.

Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles and—

Oh Christ on a cross. That’s not Steve.

Eddie’s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.

And of course she’s in a fucking towel.

Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Shit, Jesus, I—I’m not a pervert, I swear!”

Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, what’s new?

“I was looking for my friend, not—Please stop screaming!” He screams.

“Eddie?” A familiar voice calls from below.

The hand on Eddie’s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. “Steve!”

Steve’s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. “Seeing you!” He snaps.

Eddie’s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. “I’m—yeah, I’m gonna—” He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.

Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once he’s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.

He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.

“Smooth.” Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.

When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve snorts softly, “third floor, remember?”

“I counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.” Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steve’s laughing at him, he can’t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steve’s effortless being.

“No.” Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddie’s. He begins notching as he explains, “ground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.”

Eddie frowns. “What? Since when?”

Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. “Since like, the civil war, dude.”

Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That would’ve been nice to know.

“Why were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, y’know, phones.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like he’s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.

“I had to see you.” Eddie says, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world, “Face to face, just me and you.”

“Can’t we just—I don’t know, pretend all of… that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.” Steve’s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s chest.

“Hey,” Eddie makes a face, gets in Steve’s space, “don’t be a jerk to yourself.”

He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steve’s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. He’s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honey—the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. He’a got a staring problem, he knows, but… damn. Can you really blame a guy?

A nerve in Steve’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, it’s stiff. Barely above a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, alright?”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, man.” Without thought, Eddie’s hands go to Steve’s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.

“Easy for you to say.” Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddie’s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. “You didn’t totally humiliate yourself in front of your—friend.”

The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.

“Steve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?” Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. “This is my fault.” He confesses, voice full of remorse.

Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! I—I didn’t mean to, but I’m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probably… I probably let a few things slip.” Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.

Steve, however, doesn’t look any less confused. He blinks. “What?”

Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. It’s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!

Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. “Steve, I’ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Don’t roll your eyes—I’m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ‘I owe you one.’ It—okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, but… I was totally starstruck, man.”

At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steve’s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. “I still am.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut, but there’s a knot in him that’s loosening, Eddie can tell. He’s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

“The feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, y’know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to—” Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddie’s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He blurts out, and now that he’s said it out loud, it’s like there’s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he can’t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. “That’s what you were seeing. That’s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, I’m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ‘Zany, pot-head Eddie, can’t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!’”

Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, “But… you saw right through that shit—right through me. You didn’t make it up in your head, Steve—you felt it. You were right.”

Steve’s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Eddie’s to fix it. “You love me?”

That’s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.

Eddie pulls one of Steve’s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.

“Every time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.” Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “D’you feel it?”

Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.

Electricity hums under Eddie’s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steve’s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, “Ste-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vie…”

He keeps chanting until Steve’s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. It’s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. “Even now? Eddie, I’m not—I don’t think I’m the same person I was before.”

“Are you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?” Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesn’t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, “look, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, you’re still you.”

A beat passes. “What if I never get better?”

“Steve, you will, the doctors said—”

“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?” Steve’s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. It’s something Steve’s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.

“Then I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.” Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do, even if Steve hadn’t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isn’t conditional. “S’long as you’ll let me.” He tacks on.

It’s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steve’s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. “You sure you want that?”

He scoffs, eyes wide. “It’s all I want.” He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldn’t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but now…

Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steve’s face—fucking Adonis incarnate—it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.

“Okay.” Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks he’d imagined it.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. He’s fucking vibrating in his skin.

Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s.

Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like he’s shining just as good as any knight.

One of Steve’s hands snake their way behind Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddie’s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.

They eventually end up on Steve’s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steve’s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.

They don’t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ‘goodnight’ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddie’s arms. They don’t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.

Whatever comes after, they’ll deal with it together.

—

Tag List: (if you’d like to be added to a permanent tag list for all my Steddie fics, please comment/message me! ◡̈ thank you for reading, everyone!)

@stervrucht @taylortheyellowlobster @eyehartart @jinojiboundagain @sleepy-steve @lexgilga @morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife @questionablequeeries @lil-gremlin-things @ellietheasexylibrarian @ajeff855 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thedragonsaunt @hello-sweetheart @stalactitekilla @archermightbegay @horror-music @breealtair @stevesharingtons @duraffinity @novacorpsrecruit @lawrencebshoggoth @tinyplanet95 @bookworm0690 @shoujo-wizard @weepsluv111 @justalittledrainbamage

[pochaccoups]

i saw your post about you wanting to write anal and then my eyes twitched to the coups in ur dn and my mind went straight to like face sitting with cheol & he starts to just slowly slip a few fingers in the other hole while getting crazyyyyy pussy drunk

seungcheol is drunk.

he hasn’t had a sip of alcohol, but he’s intoxicated out of his mind. pupils blown, room spinning, mind fuzzy.

your thighs tremble as you straddle his face. you claw at the pillows of the sofa for some kind of purchase as your boyfriend makes a meal out of your cunt. it’s like the second a drop of your taste lands on his tongue he becomes a distant version of himself—something more wild, more animal, and his inhibitions go down the drain.

“oh my god, cheol,” you sigh, head tipping backwards as your boyfriend’s tongue laps at your pussy. he’s shameless; slurping, smacking his lips, dragging his tongue all through your folds, circling your clit with the tip of it. you feel it prodding at your sticky, dripping opening, dipping in and out, greedy for more, more, more.

he has one hand grasping your thigh and the other squeezing at your ass, his grip strong as he locks you in place against his mouth lest you squirm away from him. accepting your fate, you rock your hips back and forth, riding his face as whimpers of his name stream from your lips.

your whimpers morph into moans when a fingertip of his dips down to your pussy to gather up some slick before he pushes it past the rim of your asshole and buries it all the way to his knuckle.

“f-fuck, cheol!” you squeal, your brain full of cotton as he pushes his finger in and out of you—pets at your insides while devouring your cunt with his mouth.

it doesn’t help that he’s moaning, too. deep, grumbling sounds of utter fucking gluttony from the way you soak his tongue and clench around his finger. he needs to make you cum. it won’t take much at this point.

a few rough thrusts of his finger in your ass and some wet swipes of his tongue at your clit and you’re crying his name, gushing arousal over his face until you’ve made a mess, and it’s only when you’re boneless and leaning against the sofa that seungcheol detaches from you and gathers you in his arms to coo praises at you.

[ssongsboo]

What do you think about andteam legal line and shower sex?? 😖🥲 I’ve been wondering if lunés have the same thoughts as me?🤭

shower sex with k would be intense but tender. he’s the type to take control, pinning you gently against the tiles as water streams down his perfectly toned body. he'd hold you close, making you feel secure, his lips brushing over your neck as he whispers how much he loves the feeling of your skin against his. for him, it's about connection, and he makes sure every moment is slow and meaningful.

fuma is all about love and gentleness in the shower. he'd cradle your face in his hands, water dripping down his gorgeous features as he gazes at you like you're his entire world. his touches are slow and purposeful, his lips tracing every inch of your skin in quiet worship, always holding you close because he thinks it’s dangerous. he’d whispers tender words in between kisses, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. his focus would be entirely on you, making the moment feel like a scene out of a romance movie.

nicholas would be a menace in the shower. teasing you relentlessly, pinning you to the cool tiles while his hands roam your body. his cocky grin never leaves his face as he whispers cheeky comments in your ear, like, "you like this, don't you?" he knows exactly what he's doing and loves watching you melt under his touch. making the experience equal parts fun and intense, using the shower head on you to tease you, lots of temperature play.

ej would be so shy about it at first, his cheeks bright red even as he steps closer. he'd be hesitant to touch you, scared that you might slip [lol] but once you encourage him, his gentleness would shine. he's all soft kisses and careful touches, making sure you're comfortable every step of the way. he takes things slow, savoring every moment, and afterward, he'd probably hug you tightly under the water, whispering how much he loves you.

yuma is even worse than nico- horny and relentless. he wouldn't waste a second before pressing you against the wall, his wet hands gripping your hips with a wicked smirk. "didn't think i’d wait this long, did you?" he'd tease, his voice dripping with mischief. he's all about pushing your limits, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin while making sure you feel absolutely ruined by the time he's done. afterward, he'd flash a smug grin, pulling you close just to tease you again. will definitely go multiple rounds.

[obsessed-with-fake-men]

After His Show

After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…

Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving

AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)

Wc: 4400

It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.

“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?” 

“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.

“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.

You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”

“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.

The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop. 

As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”

“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.

You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.

“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.

“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.

Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.

The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.

Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.

Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing. 

Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair. 

“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.

“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 

You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette. 

“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.

“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.

Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.

Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.

“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist. 

You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.

“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils. 

“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”

The back door to the venue opens with a bang.

“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”

“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.

Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.

His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.

“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”

“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.

Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.

When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”

Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out. 

He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.

Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.

Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.

“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time. 

The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.

The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.

After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm. 

“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.

“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands. 

“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat. 

The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.

“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”

You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”

“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”

You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.

“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.

Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.

“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks. 

“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say. 

“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.

You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”

“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.

You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.

Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath. 

“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.

His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you. 

“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.

Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.

“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease. 

“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink. 

The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.

God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.

His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment. 

Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.

His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.

Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes. 

“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls. 

“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair. 

“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.

Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length. 

“On your knees baby.” 

You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience. 

“That’s a good girl,” he growls. 

He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.

And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.

“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.

He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. 

He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.” 

You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties. 

“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.

He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole. 

“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back. 

Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.

He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man. 

He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close. 

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.” 

And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.

The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.

He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.

Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.

Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand. 

“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night. 

[mammoth-clangen]

D’you perchance have any thoughts on the morphological (for lack of a better word?) dire wolves that Colossal Biosciences just revealed to the public? 👀

Oh my god Aenocyon, you can't just ask someone why they're white!

"Morphological dire wolf" my ass. Which is coincidentally where Colossal pulled the white coats from…

Give me an example of a modern temperate/grassland predator that's white*, I'll wait. *Excluding white lions, which are an uncommon but resilient morph resulting from leucism.

I based my Aenocyon design off bushdogs and dholes. They are called Masked Wolves in Kindred's setting, because I enjoy a good pseudo hyena niche uvu-b

Extremely extremely long 'thoughts' below the cut lol c':

Preface: in this discussion the term "dire wolf" has too many meanings, as such I will be referring to them as follows:

Thrones' wolves: for the huge, white, fantasy animals from Game Of Thrones GMO wolves: for Romulus, Remus and Khaleesi, Colossal's creations, Canis lupus Aenocyon: for Aenocyon dirus, the true, extinct dire wolf known from fossils across North America

----

Part 1: That's not a dire wolf-

The first question everyone has been asking is "So, are dire wolves de extinct now?" The answer is an emphatic "NO!" from anyone with knowledge of genetics, palaeontology, or taxonomy.

Aenocyon dirus were actually not wolves, nor dogs, but a secret third thing.

They are canids, but last shared a common ancestor with grey wolves and their lineage some ~5.7 million years ago.

For context, this paper suggests a similar divergence time between genus Homo (humans, Neanderthals and co) and Pan (chimps and bonobos); animals that look and behave markedly differently from each other.

The genomes of Canis lupus and Aenocyon dirus being 99.5% similar may sound like a lot, but again, humans share 98.8% with chimps, and 99.7% with Neanderthals, and yet are very distinct from both.

Skeletally, behaviourally, in soft tissue, etc, you could tell any of the three apart; the same goes for Aenocyon and Canis members.

Additionally, Colossal made 20 changes in 14 genes.

The grey wolf genome has 2,447,000,000 base pairs. Does that maths seem a bit off to you?

That's not even enough to change a grey wolf into a domestic dog, let alone an ancient outgroup!

This would be akin to modifying a lion to have bigger teeth and saying you resurrected Smilodon fatalis.

Or editing a Asian Elephant genome so they retain their juvenile hair and calling it a Woolly Mammoth.

It's a bold-faced lie.

Beth Shapiro says "they look and act like dire wolves" but that, too,simply isn't true.

Visually, the GMO wolves simply aren't what Aenocyon would have looked like. It's what a Thrones' wolf looks like.

Hmmmmm, funny about that, seeing George R R Martin helped fund the 'dire wolf project'...

As with many fossil animals, we don't know much about Aenocyon's behaviour.

You can't say the GMO wolves (who are also still pups) act like Aenocyon, because that's based off nothing.

What we do know is Aenocyon were likely pack animals (from the sheer number found in La Brea Tarpits), and crunched more bones than modern wolves (from their many broken teeth).

Also, crucially, they had Wild Sex Lives (from the many, huge, broken and healed bacula... youch).

Colossal is also being colossally shady by: doubling down on their bs use of the outdated "morphological species definition", blatantly misleading the public with their use of the words 'cloning', 'dire wolves', and 'de extinction', and refusing to share their methods in a peer reviewed paper before going public with a clickbait headline.

Do not trust them with your Red wolves either. They're using coyote hybrids and considering what they deem 'close enough' for a dire wolf, I wouldn't put any money on the quality of their GMO red wolves either...

Also can I just say, whatever genes they modified to "make the skull larger" clearly didn't impact the lower jaw...

No, I'm not sorry for this image uvu-b (But for real look at that poor pup and his overbite jfc)

Part 2: -and if it was, that wouldn't be good either.

I fundamentally do not support de extinction.

No, not even for the Thylacine, not even for passenger pigeons, nor the dodo. Even my beloved Homotherium should be left in the past.

This might be an unexpected stance because I am, surprising no one, a big fan of extinct animals, megafauna and otherwise.

But the thing is, I'm an even bigger fan of actual, living animals.

The animal ethics of de extinction are dubious at best.

The surrogate dog mothers of the GMO wolves likely won't live good lives.

I wouldn't be surprised if they were destroyed after being used, because their bodies could contain feto microchimerisms and Colossal absolutely doesn't want their special wolf genome getting out.

I doubt the GMO wolves themselves will live a full life before they outgrow their hearts, like Ligers.

This would likely be the case for any modern animal genetically modified into megafauna; a body not adapted to deal with the increased size.

Purely conjecture, but I also wouldn't be surprised if Romulus, Remus and Khaleesi have vision/hearing issues from their white coats.

White coats in wolves are associated with hearing impairments, so the gene used for these animals was from domestic dogs. Meaning Colossal has created a very expensive wolfdog.

Again, what kind of life are these wolfdogs supposed to live? As awful pets for the rich? In a zoo? Released to pollute wild wolf genomes? (assuming they're fertile; I hope not)

Regardless, it's not looking good if they ever planned to have them be 'wild animals'

Even true clones (which the GMO wolves are not) tend to have health issues.

Celia the Pyrenean Ibex (bucardo) was cloned, but the clone died after 9 minutes from a deformed lung.

So in 2003, this made the bucardo the first species to go extinct twice, yippee?

There's also the problem of genetic diversity.

How many intact genomes do you have on hand?

For dire wolves the answer is Zero!

To my knowledge, we don't have the full genome coded from one individual, just Frankenstein-ed from many. Which is fine for sequencing the canine family tree's relatedness, but not for cloning.

The absolute minimum individuals to survive a genetic bottleneck is said to be 50 in larger species. Called the 50/500 rule, it states that 50 is enough to survive, but 500 is required to prevent genetic drift.

To which I say, good luck!

Even with well preserved permafrost species (such as woolly mammoths), you'll have a hard time finding 500 individuals with prefect genomes.

And then, where will you put them?

If you were to, somehow, make a breeding population, where are they going? A national park? A zoo? Is their old habitat still available to them?

In Aenocyon, the answer is simply "they don't have a niche anymore".

Unlike the Thylacine or Dodo, humans did not directly cause the extinction of Aenocyon dirus. And even if they had, it was 10,000 years ago!

Would making room for a de extinct species impact the habitat/niche of another species?

Regular grey wolves fill Aenocyon's role as a canine mesopredator, with Puma as the apex (alongside bears as an apex omnivore).

With the loss of megafauna to prey on, a de extinct predator would just compete with other, also endangered species.

Animals also change the environment they life in.

Mammoths will clear trees like modern elephants. This would recreate the Mammoth Steppe, but those trees making up the taiga and boreal forests are themselves crucial habitat.

Other species have moved in since the mammoths' extinction. Siberian tigers, lynx, muskoxen, brown bears, elk, moose, and so many others; many endangered.

Trees also prevent erosion, which is already happening at unprecedented rates due to agriculture and deforestation.

Crucially: What's to stop an extinct animal going the same way it went out last time?

Ask yourself this:

Would the average American appreciate "flocks of Passenger pigeons big enough to darken the sky and whiten ground with their guano"?

Would people suddenly be okay with lions in Europe eating their livestock, when they are champing the bit to shoot Iberian wolves again?

Would Tasmanians suddenly feel the same about the Thylacine, when farmers in Australia still happily kill dingoes and eagles for lamb predation? [citation, I am an enviro technician and have had farmers tell me they shoot Wedge-tails, knowing I'm a toothless lion to stop them.]

I doubt it

At what cost?

Are we going to find 50 thylacine genomes?

If so (doubtful), how much will cloning and/or modifying a relative into a thylacine cost? Now that x50?

Wouldn't that money be better spent on quoll reintroduction?

What about finding 50 gestational carriers for mammoths?

Are you going to use their closest relative; the already critically endangered Asian Elephant?

Wouldn't that time and effort on those elephant mothers be better used making more elephants?

And the social cost:

If extinction isn't forever, what's to incentivize lawmakers to fund conservation?

Really, it comes down to this:

Why bring back the dire wolf when we could put this money into protecting the Iberian and Red wolves?

Why bring back the thylacine when their cousin is dying of a transmissible cancer?

We've already seen the impacts of "extinction isn't forever anymore", with those in power already trying to cut funding to conservation, because you can "just bring them back".

But as we've seen time and time again: there is no Planet B. There is no De-Extinction, not really.

Maybe what was gone should stay gone, so we can focus on what we still have.

[captainpriceslilwife]

the third part of gaz and insecure reader was perfect 🤧 bless mrs gillies for the sunflowers, kyle has no choice but to only buy flowers from her! now im imagining the day when gaz properly introduces her to the guys (drink to the face doesn’t count apparently 🙄) and soap just teasing them and ghost being his creepy self lol

anon i am so sorry this took so long but i had no motivation to write but i had to write a lil something for this hehehe

"Wait, Ky..." Your grip tightened around his arm as your feet came to a halt just in front of the entrance of the bar. "I'm scared."

Kyle chuckled softly as he turned around to face you, but his expression grew more gentle the second he saw the wide-eyed look adorning your face. "There's nothing to be scared of, sweetheart. It's just the guys."

"I know, but..." Your head tilts down just a bit as you glance nervously towards the door, and he removes your hand from his arm just to wrap it up gently in his. "...what if they don't like me?"

"They'll love you. I know it." And he seems so sure of himself that you can't help but not question it further (especially since you've been working yourself up about it all day and he's had to soothe you about at least once every hour). But he sees how nervous you still are, so he presses a soft kiss to your hand before he moves to your cheek, then your lips - trying to pull a smile out of you. All you can manage is a slight quirk of the corner of your lips, and he lets out a small sigh as he kisses your forehead. "Look, if it all goes to hell, I promise I'll take you out of there, yeah? 'M not gonna leave my girl to the wolves."

"Yeah?" Your eyes find his as you fiddle with his fingers - desperately seeking reassurance in those pretty brown eyes that crinkle as he smiles down at you.

"Of course, love."

A deep, relinquishing sigh from you pulls a chuckle from him - and then he's ushering you through the doors before you can protest any further.

"Aye, there she is! The bonnie lass we've been waiting ta meet!"

Johnny's voice cuts through the bustle of noise so easily that it's impossible to miss him - and you immediately recognize that haircut. It brings you back to the night when you first met Kyle, much to your dismay. Especially since you've been desperately trying to erase that night from both of your memories, and your sweet boyfriend has been kind enough to pretend that the strawberry daquiri to his face never happened.

Kyle's trying to silently communicate to Johnny to tone it down a bit - after all, he doesn't want to overwhelm his poor girl before she even gets to sit down - but Johnny's already out of his seat and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "It's good to finally meet ye, hen...ach...she smells good, too, Gaz."

"Right, enough of that." Kyle doesn't even let it last for a second before he's ushering Johnny off of you and back into his seat. If you didn't know any better, you'd say you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes before he covers it up with a playful smack to the back of Johnny's head. "Fucking numpty."

"Oi! Ah'm just bein' friendly-" "Too friendly, Johnny."

And while you stand there and laugh awkwardly, still trying to catch your bearings after being assaulted with unexpected affection - a deep, smooth voice breaks through your reverie. "It's nice to meet you, sweetheart."

He's big, older, got mutton-chops on his cheeks that shift around as he smiles at you and extends his hand out to shake yours.

His captain.

The one he talks about all the time. You might as well be meeting his father. But, somehow, this feels more important.

"Yes. Hi...hello." You fumble as you move your bag to your other hand, slipping into his handshake with all the grace of a newborn fawn. Luckily, he's polite enough to not mention the sheer amount of perspiration that nearly makes your hand slip from his. "It's very nice to meet you, too...um...sir."

That pulls a deep chuckle from within him, and your cheeks burn brightly as you realize you've probably said something wrong. Of course you did. There you go again, humiliating your boyfriend in front of his team, and his very important captain, all because you can't say anything right-

"Just John to you, love. Only these muppets call me 'sir'."

Oh. You're fine.

"Yes, si- I mean...yes. Yeah. I will call you...that. John. It's a, um, very nice name." For fucks sake, can you socialize normally? Luckily, Kyle sees your floundering - and as much as it makes his heart swell in his chest to see you so flustered for his sake, he decides to rescue you before you overwhelm yourself any further.

"Darling, this is Johnny." You turn to notice the tight grip Kyle has on Johnny's shoulder, as if he's a dog that he's holding back on a leash - and judging based off his initial, very friendly, greeting, he might as well be. "The...rather rambuncious one I had told you about."

And Johnny's eyes sparkle even brighter than before as he tilts his head back to smirk up at Kyle. "Ach, ye talk about me, do ye? What's he sayin' about me, bonnie?" Those bright blue eyes find yours, and he's already leaning closer with a conspiratory smile as he murmurs softly. "I mean, he talks about ye all the time. Says yer the loveliest girl he's ever met-"

"-And Simon." Kyle is quick to cut off Johnny's teasing before he can even start, raising his voice slightly to drown him out as he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. "This is Simon over here, love."

You hadn't even really noticed him there, despite his hulking frame - you were so caught up in the whirlwind of introductions that the silent, brooding man in the corner of the booth had slipped from your attention. He made no move to greet you like the others, but you manage to squeak out a quiet hello as Kyle's hand finds the base of your spine.

But Simon's dark eyes just stare through the holes of his balaklava - mask lifted just enough for him to sip at his glass of bourbon before Johnny's nudging him in the ribs. "Aye, speak, L.T."

"...Hello..."

Oh God, he probably hates you. He took one look at you and decided you weren't good enough for his friend and now he hates you.

But Johnny just cracks an easy smile after Simon's greeting before he turns back to you. "He's a bit, eh....socially challenged, ye ken? Pay him no mind, lass."

When you look to Kyle for reassurance, you can see the pleased expression lacing his features as he squeezes your waist gently - letting you know that yes, Simon is just like that.

So you finally start to relax a bit, but then Johnny's up and out of his seat again - swinging his arm over your shoulder and tugging you out of Kyle's safe embrace. "Aye, let's get ye a drink, bonnie."

And Kyle can already sense what's coming, just from one look at that shit-eating grin plastered on Johnny's face.

"Strawberry daquiri, was it? Ach, Gaz would know wouldn' he?"

The rest of the night goes fairly well, even with Johnny's constant teasing and Simon's ever-present awkwardness. You loosen up after a few drinks, and Kyle watches adoringly as you slowly open up to everyone - though you keep peeking over at him like you're unsure if you're doing ok.

But he always just smiles in return, giving you an encouraging nod as his thumb trails over your shoulder - and he melts when he sees how it makes you soften and grow just a little bit bolder. A bit more sure of yourself.

And of course the two of you are so enraptured by each other that you miss the way Johnny makes mocking googly eyes and kissy faces at Simon, the both of them snorting quietly with each other as Price kicks them under the table - but the two of them catch the way his lips quirk up into a smile at their antics.

At some point, Price leans over and murmurs something in Kyle's ear, too quiet for you to hear, but loud enough to pique your curiosity. A tiny voice in your head gets nervous, because of course it does. All your brain seems to know is being nervous in social interactions. Especially the ones with your lovely boyfriend's role model. But your insecurities quickly dissapate with Kyle's reaction.

You don't miss the way his chest puffs out with pride, or the slight twinkle in his eye as he murmurs out a quiet 'thank you, sir' while wrapping his arm a bit tighter around you.

And he's happy. He can't stop staring at the smile on your face that's getting a little bit wider every time Johnny tries to make you laugh with a joke, or Simon mutters one of his stupid, dark comments, or his captain tells you some long-winded story about one of their missions.

You seem happy. Relaxed, even. He can feel the way your sinking deeper into his side as your melodic giggles reverberate around the table, cheeks glowing a brighter shade when you tuck your face into his shoulder to stifle your laugh - and he's never felt more rich in his life. He knows he'd do anything to keep you in this state - happy, relaxed, glowing - for the rest of his days. No matter what.

It seems, however, that not everybody shares the same sentiment.

"Aye, hen..." Johnny dares a quick glance over at Kyle before he leans a bit closer to you. "Did Gaz here ever tell ye about tha time he nearly died falling out of a helicopter?"

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Hello, I hope you have a good day/night and everything is okay. I was wondering... If you could write something with Joaquin and fem!reader having painful period. And Joaquin comes up to something to make the pain go away and get her to relax, something unconventional 😏 ya know, some 🐱eating, etc... Basically SMUT, but fluff. It's okay if you don't feel like writing it, it's just a suggestion. BTW I love your work ❤️

~✨

Gentle Peaks

about this; wc: 618, pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader contents: NSFW/MINORS DNI/SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving), period pain, caretaker!joaquin, an: pwp basically but make it fluffy!!!! bc at the end of the day joaquin’s a simp. i hope you like this 🫶🏾

danny ramirez characters masterlist

You’ve spent most of the day curled up under blankets. Your cramps are relentless, the weight of them sitting heavy in your lower belly.

You’ve tried all your usual remedies—heat packs, medication, tea, even lying still in the dark—but nothing seems to help.

Joaquin notices because of course he does. He’s been watching you, the way you wince every time you shift, the way your body seems to recoil with the ache.

“Hey,” he says softly, his hand brushing over your hair. “Puedo ayudarte?”

You lift your gaze to meet his, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. You know what he’s suggesting— he’s offered before but you’ve been to shy. There’s part of you that wants it, craving the comfort and pleasure. But the other part? That part feels too exposed, too vulnerable. You feel self-conscious, unsure of yourself in this state.

“Joaquin, estás seguro?” You ask shyly. “I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smiles, tender and understanding, and leans down to kiss your forehead. “No te preocupes, mi amor,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “I want to help you feel better.”

You hesitate, unsure if you’re ready to let go of the tension in your body, to let him in so intimately when you feel this delicate. But Joaquin just keeps gazing at you like you’re the only thing in the world.

Slowly, his fingers brush down the side of your neck, warm and soothing, until they reach your hips. He guides you gently, lifting your legs and easing them apart with care.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” You can’t help the soft breath that catches in your throat, but Joaquin’s gaze never wavers. He doesn’t rush—just keeps that soft, steady eye contact, his hands moving with a slow, confident rhythm.

When his lips finally find the sensitive skin between your thighs, you nearly flinch, the vulnerability of it making your skin heat. But Joaquin’s hands are there, cupping your body, holding you in place as he kisses you softly, slowly, the warm pressure of his mouth making the ache in your lower abdomen fade with each delicate stroke.

You exhale shakily as his tongue moves slowly against you, gentle and soft, just enough to tease, but never too much. His rhythm is slow, deliberate, as though he’s savoring each movement, each sound you make. You feel him press his mouth a little deeper, his lips curving against you in the most tender way, and the pain from your period begins to fade into something else—something much warmer, more comforting. His hands slide under your thighs, his thumbs gently massaging your sensitive skin as his mouth works against you, his breath hot against your skin.

The sensation builds, the ache inside you slowly being replaced by a new kind of tension, one that’s softer, sweeter, more pleasurable. You can’t help but arch into him, your fingers gripping at the sheets as your body relaxes under his touch. As his lips move with purpose, his tongue pressing just right, you relax completely, a soft moan leaving you.

“Shh,” Joaquin murmurs softly, pulling back to check in with you, his forehead resting against yours, eyes searching yours. “You okay?”

You nod, breathless and a little dazed, as the last of the cramps melt away. You’ve forgotten entirely about the pain, now only focused on the warmth of him between your legs and the way his touch makes you feel so incredibly safe.

He continues to kiss you, slow and steady, giving you just enough to keep you in that space between relief and bliss until it peaks. It’s a delicate orgasm, one that spreads calmly throughout your limbs. After a few more moments, he finally pulls back, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he smiles at you, tender and content.

“How was that?” He asks, mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Good,” you breathe, falling back more firmly against the pillows.

He makes his way up to lay beside you, pulling you close. “Good. I’ll always be here, hmm? Always happy to take care of you.”

lmk if you’d like to be on the nsfw joaquin taglist!

nsfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69 , @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @peacefangirl, @soularsss, @everydaydreamer, @violetpassionfruit, @seraphibunni

[nyxianwayfarer]

The Escort AU

Pairing: Cabernet x Fem!Reader

Rating: E

Content Tags: Jealousy, Possessiveness, Yandere Behavior (I mean, it's Cabernet, so are you really surprised?), Biting, Blood Kink (at least on Cabernet's part), Hot Tub Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Cabby also has a dick in this

Note: The first two sections are just set up for this AU since I do plan on writing more about it eventually. You can just skip to the 3rd section if you want to see Cabernet.

Additional Note: Given that you are an escort, there will be some vague mentions regarding other clients you might have had, such as Eirene and Chelsea. For the most part though, you'll be seen with Cabernet in this AU, but that's because I promised @sinful-lanterns something spicy with her wife. 🤭 ANGEY, COME GET YOUR FOOD! 😌

You originally took this job as a means to pay your mounting student loans, but you'd be lying if you weren't also a bit curious about how the upper echelons of DisCity lived their lives. Still, even with your friendly personality, even your employer was taken by surprise by how popular you'd be with the agency's clientele.

You were something of a miracle worker among your colleagues with your ability to handle some of the most difficult patrons. Such clients paid the fees for a companion, yes, but some had such a cold demeanor that it was difficult for your coworkers to perform their role to the best of their ability.

With you, however, it was very much the opposite effect.

You were capable of drawing something almost sweet out of even the most curmudgeonly or apathetic individuals.

Case in point: your first job had been with a higher-up from some intelligence department. Langley was beautiful and untouchable in the same way those millennia-old statues were—a timeless beauty in every sense of the word with her pale features and her cool, mint-green eyes that were so piercing in their intensity. That should have been her most prominent feature, but no. For you, that would have been the silvery tendrils of a seemingly spider-like mark over one of the woman's eyes, half-hidden beneath the shadows cast by the wide rim of her hat.

She had been cordial enough to you when she'd arranged to pick you up in the back of an armored limousine, but her personality seemed to shift when you both arrived at the event together. Her responses became more vague and noncommittal no matter who tried to draw her into conversation.

In fact, she seemed... bored.

While you hoped it was a result of the party—you were sure a woman of her stature had attended countless of these before to where they had long lost their excitable luster—a part of you couldn't help but think you were the cause for her standoffish behavior.

In an attempt to calm your nerves, you found yourself picking up flute after flute of champagne whenever a server passed by. You didn't know exactly how much alcohol you had imbibed over the course of those hours, but you did remember swaying enough on your feet that you felt an arm wrap around your waist to steady you.

Blearily, you looked up to see shadowed green eyes staring down at you with a raised brow—amusement just barely evident in that simple gesture. You felt the way your face heated up instantly beneath her gaze. When she quietly asked if you wanted to leave, you just shook your head sheepishly.

The entire exchange had been such a quick moment that none of the people you both had been mingling with noticed anything. Conversation continued on as normal at least until one man made some churlish remark regarding Sinners that had you bristling instantly.

Perhaps it was a result of all the alcohol you had consumed earlier, but without any mental filter in place, you soon launched yourself into a passionate tirade about Sinners and how they should be granted rights just as any citizen within DisCity.

"You stand with the likes of them?" he asked with a sneer, voice dripping condescendingly at the very thought.

"As far as I see it, they're no different than any non-Sinner: they can still be just as courteous as any other person, or they can be an absolute asshole like you," you countered.

For a moment, everything went silent. Wide eyes turned to you in surprise, and if you weren't so inebriated, perhaps you might have noticed that a few gazes had traveled to your date. Instead, you kept your eyes focused on your rival of sorts, and you felt a deep satisfaction when his face went red. From either embarrassment or rage, you couldn't tell. In any case, your moment of smugness went out the window when you heard Langley laughing loudly beside you.

Shocked, you turned to see that she had her head thrown back in delight as her laughter rang out. It was then that you realized the situation. You were here as a guest to Langley, and while her behavior seemed to indicate she was that wasn't angry at your outburst, you knew just how much the matter of reputation mattered to these people. There was a chance that you could have hurt Langley's.

Before you could apologize, the other woman pulled you closer to her side. "It seems that I've chosen a rather interesting date for the evening. Nevertheless, it's getting rather late. We should be taking our leave now."

Your group muttered their departing farewells, but you didn't put up any fight as Langley ushered you out of the building and into the backseat of a limousine that had already been waiting for you both. Langley didn't say anything else during the entire ride. Instead, she kept her focus on the tablet in her hands, typing out series of messages with a smirk still on her lips.

Your own sense of mortification was growing though, and by the time the limousine had reached your apartment, you had to insist to both Langley and her driver that you were fine to make it back to your door just fine. You wanted to distance yourself from the night as much as possible and any reminder of it.

You were certain that you had overstepped your role as an escort. That was the thought that rang in your head as you sniffed quietly in the shower, your dress all but forgotten on the tiles. Your first job as an escort, and you had ruined it. You couldn't help but groan as you eventually dragged yourself to bed, realizing that you were never going to get out of the debt of your student loans.

Although you felt guilty for it, you called into work and told them you likely weren't going to be in tomorrow. Thankfully, the receptionist sounded sympathetic, but given who your client was, she likely understand how drained you were. With that out of the way, you pulled the covers over your head and willed yourself to forget the disaster of tonight.

---THE NEXT MORNING---

You blearily woke to the sound of repeated knocking at your door. With considerable effort, you dragged yourself out of bed to answer it and found a cheerful deliveryman there.

"Good morning, ma'am! Where would you like me to set this all up?"

"Wait..." You were still trying to blink the sleep away from your eyes, but you were certain you heard him wrong. "Set what up?"

His delivery had apparently been a considerable one.

He happily wheeled in a wine chiller that—from what you could see on the box anyway—was capable of holding up to 50 bottles within it. That wasn't even the most outrageous thing. Oh, no, that went to the large wooden crate he wheeled in afterwards. Atop was a simple note that had been addressed to you.

Until next time, Rookie. -L

Inside the crate in question, however, were bottles upon bottles of champagne. Given how much you drank of it last night, she likely thought you this particular brand was your favorite.

Oh, this is just embarrassing...

As the deliveryman began settling the champagne into their new home in the wine chiller—despite your flustered insistence that you could do it instead—you were startled out of wits when you heard your phone ring.

It took a little time to find it. You had apparently tossed it aside with your dress in your drunken state, but on the screen, you could see several missed texts and calls from your employer, which only made you wince.

That surely couldn't be good.

You were able to get the call to connect before it went to voicemail. "H-hello?"

"Where have you been?!"

"Well, I—"

"Nevermind that! I don't what you did last night, but our phone lines have been ringing constantly since we opened! They're all asking for you specifically as their escort!"

You could only stare dumbfoundedly at the wall as you tried to register the information. Your employer only continued on, unaware. From their tone, they seemed absolutely delighted by this turn of events.

"Look, I know this is all probably a bit unexpected considering you just finished your first job last night," they began, "but these requests are honestly from of the biggest names in Eastside. If you accept, I can guarantee you'll be booked solid for at least the next three months. If you're interested, come down to the office whenever you can, and we can update your contract with the hours you'd like. We'll make sure you're not overworked."

---SOME TIME LATER---

From that moment on, your schedule was often booked by the most prominent individuals in the city. Countess Chelsea was a frequent client of your agency, according to your coworkers. The woman was utterly notorious for spoiling whomever was her intended companion for the day. You were no different, of course, but you were always a little skittish about wearing the accessories that were now overflowing from your jewelry box. They were all so expensive after all...

There were other names on that list too though, which included the CEO of Quinn, which had shocked your employer. The woman had apparently tried your agency's services once several years ago, but she had never made another request for as escort until after your night with Langley. Sometimes you wondered if that had been a coincidence, but you'd never seen either women interact with one another before, so perhaps you were probably overthinking the situation?

In any case, you were now hanging off Eirene's arm as she held court with her inner circle and her sea of admirers—a true queen of the business world. It hadn't been a major you pursued during college, but you understood enough to make polite conversation and offer a diplomatic rebuttal when others voiced that you didn't belong there.

The latter was something that seemed to please Eirene, strangely enough.

She wasn't a woman to wear her heart on her sleeve by any means of the imagination, but you did catch the bare hint of a smile on her lips at your remark before she turned to address another colleague. However, it was the gentle pressure of her hand against your hip that best indicated her approval—pleased with her choice of escort.

Before you could preen beneath such acknowledgment, you felt someone's eyes at your back. It wasn't a particular invasive sensation—the type meant to make you feel small and worthless.

No.

Someone wanted your attention.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look over your shoulder and from across the room, you found a pair of lavender eyes catching your gaze steadily. The woman's lips were as vibrant as her hair—a bold red—that turned upwards into a satisfied smirk, but before you could begin to imagine why, she was already turning her own attention back to her own throng of fans.

You'd heard of Cabernet before of course.

There were few who weren't aware of the sole heiress to the Franc family—an absolute marvel of the culinary world. In fact, ever since you had found yourself mingling within the circles of high society, it was rare for her not to be at any event that you were made a plus one to. She wasn't someone one could easily miss in a crowd. Like Eirene, the woman was a queen of her chosen field, and she was to be given just as much admiration and respect.

"So this is what money gets you, eh?"

You felt Eirene stiffen next to you at the words, and she pulled you further into her space before a wandering man could stumble directly into you. Your eyes were still watering from how much alcohol you smell on his breath as he attempted to proposition you.

"I've got what you need, girl. After we're done, you might as well be paying me for the pleasure!" he declared, breaking out into uproarious laughter at his own words, heedless of the scene he was causing.

You frowned. "Excuse me?"

He jerked his head unsteadily towards your date, who was currently waving two of the security team over. "She bought you, didn't she?" He scoffed. "I don't care how fancy they dress you girls up in. You can't be any better than the whores that line up at the corners of the Red Light District."

His words brought a round of sharp gasps from the guests around you. While this hadn't been the first time someone had made baseless assumptions about your duties as an escort, it was still an annoyance—one you were going to correct.

"I don't know you think you are, but—"

"Mr. Moreau."

You watched with almost bewildered fascination as color seemed to drain from your harasser's face at the call of his apparent name. Not that he could be blamed. There was little mistaking the authority in the voice addressing him even with the calm elegance it had been delivered with, for standing behind him was none other than Cabernet Franc herself.

"I believe you've outstayed your welcome here."

"I take it you know this man?" Eirene inferred coolly even as security finally managed to weave their way through the crowd.

"Him? Ah, yes. He was the owner and Executive Chef at La Rouge."

There was a rush of shocked murmurs at this revelation, which only left you more confused, but with the sudden scrutiny directed towards him, the man soon began shrinking almost into himself. Cabernet placed her hands primly atop her cane as she regarded Eirene.

"Would you let me handle this?"

A current of... something seemed to pass between the two women, but then Eirene nodded curtly.

"I'll defer to your wisdom on this if you'd prefer to deal with him. Do let me know if security will be needed. I may as well get my money's worth for their presence tonight."

Upon the acceptance of her offer, you were almost convinced Cabernet's lavender eyes seemed to glow, but they soon were hidden again as she lidded them, smiling, expression utterly serene. "Oh, that won't be necessary. I'm sure it's hardly escaped anyone's notice how far he's fallen in his misfortune. I believe an intervention coaxing him towards the help he needs would be far kinder."

And then Cabernet had led the man away although the latter looked more like a misbegotten pup timidly following after its owner. Nevertheless, activity within the ballroom seemed to return to normal again, enough to where Eirene had escorted you out onto the floor to dance once the music started up again. She led your steps, of course, but as you followed her lead, you couldn't help but ask her about Moreau.

Your eyes widened in response to the information.

You'd heard of La Rouge in passing but not necessarily of the chef at its head. It had apparently been one of the most popular restaurants when it debuted in Eastside several years ago. It had earned considerable acclaim by the city's elite.

...at least until Cabernet had dined there one evening.

You weren't as much of a foodie as some of your colleagues were, but the general impression was that while the woman hadn't been particularly scathing in her review, it seemed she had still been deeply unimpressed. From there, attendance to La Rouge sharply declined even when Moreau desperately tried to keep it afloat with only a skeleton staff at hand. However, given the high rent for such a large establishment in one of the premier locations of Eastside along with dwindling profits, La Rouge closed its doors within the same year of Cabernet's visit.

You weren't entirely certain how many songs you and Eirene had both danced to, but it was easy enough to notice how she slowly stopped moving. You looked up in confusion only to see her gaze directed over your head. Your lips parted to voice your worry only to have someone else speak behind you.

"Might I trouble your date for one dance before the evening is over, Miss Campbell?"

As if she couldn't allow the very thought of her to leave your mind, there Cabernet stood behind you with a smile. When Eirene didn't answer, however, you glanced up to see her looking at you expectantly. It was clear that while she paid for your services for the night, she wouldn't take your autonomy away from you. You just shrugged sheepishly.

"I don't mind."

Eirene seemed to have anticipated this however, but her gaze was still sharp as she regarded Cabernet whose expression remained as tranquil as ever. "You have one dance then," she declared coolly as she released your hands. "And not a moment longer."

---

"I'd almost believed she wouldn't part with you."

"Eirene?" you asked aloud as Cabernet led you into a slow waltz. "She's been kind." Truthfully, she'd been nothing of courteous towards you. All your clients were actually—even the ones with seemingly unapproachable reputations.

"Yes. She normally doesn't take an interest in anyone enough to allow them to accompany her to these events. When I saw you walk in on her arm, I knew you had to be quite special. You must be in order to tread the waters of this world so easily."

Her words seemed especially cryptic, but given how particularly cutthroat the corporate world could be for the uninitiated, you wouldn't be surprised if she were warning you of some danger, especially given the scene earlier.

"That man from earlier... Mr. Moreau? He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

She blinked, almost taken aback by your concern. Then, she threw her head back in gentle laughter. "Oh, Sweet Morsel... You're so very adorable. For a man like that to bother me, he'd have to have the fangs necessary to do so. As it was, he was little more than a gnat buzzing by my ear—a minor inconvenience if noticed, but in the grand scheme of things?" When she smiled, you almost thought you caught the edge of something sharp in the gesture. "He's inconsequential at best. He likely understands that more readily now after our conversation, but let's not concern ourselves with the rabble. Certainly not when I've waited this long to formally meet you."

Technically, you hadn't even introduced yourself to her yet, and you were about to voice that when you suddenly began blushing as she leaned her head down towards you. She grinned.

"They may have won your attention first, but I'll have my time with you yet..."

Without really meaning to, you found yourself getting lost in her eyes. Did they seem brighter than normal? And who were they?

A small gasp left your lips as she slid her cheek past yours—in lieu of a kiss apparently—to whisper in your ear.

"Until next time, Sweet Morsel of mine..."

---SOME TIME LATER---

It was hardly any wonder that Cabernet found herself booked into your schedule.

Your duties as an escort were to offer a sense of comfortable companionship, especially when it came to social events. Involving yourself with someone else in that manner, however, offered a connection at times—one that could be seen as intimate. That intimacy could take shape in many forms.

The Countess spoiled you with any material thing that held your attention for more than a few seconds, and PDA was always a given with her. In fact, she highly encouraged it with you!

Quinn's CEO and the 9th Agency's Director always acted as befitting of their roles in the public eye, so they were more subtle in their affections. In the bedroom, however, they saw that your needs were always met as well as theirs, but nothing could really prepare you for how ravenous Cabernet's sexual appetite was...

It was somewhat surprising since she seemed to keep a certain amount of distance between herself and others. With you, however, she was always touching you in some manner. It could be chaste as handholding or her palm upon your hip to help direct you through crowded parties. Sometimes, it was more overt like with a nip at your ear when she felt you weren't paying enough attention to her. Regardless, it seemed she constantly wanted you near her, much to the envy of her admirers. Nothing was ever done without your consent, of course, and you couldn't deny the burst of thrill at some of the escapades you two got into.

As if knowing you were thinking about her, you felt the bulge of her cock hardening beneath your bottom. You made to shift your weight off her lap, concerned that you might be making her uncomfortable, but she wrapped her arms around your middle, keeping you in place.

Cabernet had invited you as her plus one to the grand opening of a restaurant. The Executive Chef had personally invited her to attend, and as a guest of honor, she had also given her a table consisting of only you and her. There had been two chairs to sit at of course—both on the same side at Cabernet's insistence. Still, it wasn't long until Cabernet had also suggested you sit upon a far better seat...

"Did you do as I asked?" she murmured as she pressed a line of kisses against the back of your shoulder.

You couldn't help but blush as you eyed the tables around you both, but the other attendants were more focused on the meals in from of them. "Yes."

Cabernet had requested that you wear your dress without any underwear. The garment had been personally handpicked by her for the long slit up the sides. Her own dress was was a dark plum in color that looked almost black under certain lighting. It also had two artistically-asymmetrical slits along the left side of her body that exposed parts of her pale skin. The trim along the opened edges held adornments that looked like crystal black teeth, so the visual effect was as if there were two gaping maws waiting to consume anything near it.

It was an interesting choice.

You thought it was a fun little nod to the event itself. Still, you couldn't deny the easy access Cabernet's dress provided for you both. You moved the train of your dress out of the way while reaching behind you to fish for Cabernet's cock. You could feel how she was already half hard as your fingers wrapped around her. She helped raise you off her lap enough so that you could guide the thick tip towards your entrance. Once the head sank in, you felt the weight of her shaft immediately behind it. You were already wet from the anticipation of her request, so it didn't take much more than a bit of slow rocking between you both to have her fully seated inside you.

You felt her warm breath against your neck as she sighed contentedly. She gave one more indulgent rock of her hips, which you had to bite your lip against to keep from moaning aloud. Then, she proceeded to pick up her silverware and cut into the fish that had been served to you both. You were eating more than she was, but that wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Her explanation always seemed to be that she was far more interested in your thoughts on food.

All the while, she remained hard inside you, and you could feel every twitch of her shaft with every move she made. Although you were both in a rather scandalous situation, the idea wasn't really for her to reach her peak anytime soon. Cabernet just loved feeling you wrapped around her like this, and she wanted to savor it for the entire event.

You were in the middle of sampling another bite of the flaky fish from her fork, and you nearly choked on it when you saw a waiter heading towards you both to refill your drinks. Cabernet, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit bothered. With the large white napkin covering your lap and the loose, flowing length of your dress covering her own, nothing seemed at all amiss for the waiter. If he noticed your blush, he likely assumed it to be a result of you simply sitting atop your date's lap. After all, Cabernet Franc rarely handed out attention like this so easily.

When you were both left alone again, she praised you for keeping your composure so well.

"Well done, my dear." She rewarded you by thrusting up into you once, which left you gasping. She smirked. "All in all, I'd say this was a rather enjoyable evening although I'm not entirely certain the food was worth all the fanfare. Your presence more than made up for it. Speaking of which..." She licked at the shell of your ear, which had you shivering pleasurably. "I'm expected to be at another banquet in two weeks' time. Will you be free to attend it with me?"

"I..." You were almost ready to accept the offer immediately, but then you frowned as you reached for your phone. "Wait, let me check my calendar first."

As you scrolled through your schedule for the month, you noticed how her grip seemed to tighten almost imperceptibly at your waist—perhaps disconcerted with the fact that you didn't immediately know the answer to her question.

it couldn't be helped though.

As one of the more popular girls of the escort company, your schedule was often packed. Still, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you saw an event booked throughout the entire week Cabernet had been requesting. When you turned your head to relay all this to her, she seemed understanding. Her smile remained polite as always towards you, but you couldn't help but notice how her eyes seemed to harden at their edges.

"Very well, Sweet Girl... I can wait."

---A MONTH LATER---

A limousine had been called to take you to Cabernet's estate. It was already well into the evening, but the party within still seemed to be in full swing. You thanked the driver as he opened the car door for you, but you couldn't help but shiver as the night air fell upon you.

"There's my darling sugar baby!"

You looked up to see Countess Chelsea coming down the stairs with a grin upon her face at your presence. At your appearance, however, her expression turned to one of concern.

"And you look like you're about to catch your death out here."

Chelsea pulled her own coat off to settle it upon your shoulders. Given the extravagant amount of fur on it, it still retained a great deal of the woman's body heat, and you could feel it warming you up instantly. You were going to protest the offer since now Chelsea would be the one left out in the cold, but the woman merely wagged a finger at your playfully.

"Now, now. Don't argue. I'm hardly going to be out here for long." And true to her word, her own pink limousine pulled up to the front of the estate.

"Ah. You're leaving already?"

"Yes. I have a business meeting overseas that I need to get to, so I stayed long enough to greet our guest of honor and mingle for a little bit." She grinned. "But don't be sad, babe! You know you and I will see each other again eventually!" Her eyes seemed to sparkle delightedly as she leaned down to press a parting kiss to your cheek. "Now get inside! No reason to stay out in this weather!"

The temperature inside was considerably warmer thankfully. This was the first time you'd actually been to Cabernet's estate though, and you weren't quite certain where to go. Fate, however, seemed to smile upon you because you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

"There you are, Sweet Girl."

You looked up just in time to see Cabernet descending the staircase near the foyer. She was dressed to the nines, looking like an absolute dream in the dark sheath that hugged every curve of her body. Her expression indicated she was happy to see you, but you saw how her steps and her smile seemed to freeze in place when she took in Countess Chelsea's signature fur coat draped around your shoulders.

"I see someone else has already gotten to you first." Her tone was even and calm even if you couldn't help but fidget in place beneath it.

"I ran into the Countess on the way in. She was just worried that I'd be cold."

"Well..." Cabernet fully descended the steps then, and she wrapped her arm around your waist to guide you elsewhere. "You don't need to worry about such things in here. Come. Let me help you put that away."

---IN THE COAT CLOSET---

It was ridiculous that something as mundane as a coat closet could somehow be twice the size of your own apartment. The ones in Cabernet's estate boasted rows upon rows of shelves and racks for guests to put their outerwear and accessories away, but the space of the room wasn't what was taking your breath away.

Cabernet was doing that well enough on her own.

She had pushed you in to the farthest corner of the room behind from shelving, and you barely had time to turn around to face her before she was on you. Your borrowed coat had fallen to the floor beneath you, and for that, you were grateful. The garment had likely saved you from potential carpet burn from how hard Cabernet seemed to be thrusting into you. She didn't take time to pull your underwear off. She just moved it far enough to the side to slip inside you. From her pace, it was like she was trying to imprint her very essence into your soul.

You already came twice from her complete and single-minded determination in that regard. You were just coming down from the lull of your latest orgasm when you looked up at her curiously. She looked as magnificent as ever even with her mane of wild, crimson hair, looking every bit like a huntress who had caught her prey. Still, you found yourself paying attention to those unique eyes of hers. They seemed to be... lighter?

Before you ponder upon that fact for more than a second though, you found yourself suddenly flipped you over onto your stomach. You couldn't stop your breathless curse of surprise against the fur coat beneath you when she thrusted into you again.

Cabernet always felt bigger when she took you from behind.

And you knew she still hadn't come yet.

The girth of her cock inside you felt as heavy as ever, and she definitely made you feel it. While your upper torso was still pressed to the floor, she effortlessly lifted you up by your hips to hammer into you—unsatisfied by any amount of distance between you both. The slap of flesh in the otherwise empty room felt like thunder going off inside your ears, and you moaned helplessly when you felt her teeth at the crook of your neck.

Cabernet still needed more.

You knew enough of her sexual appetite to understand this side of her.

Weakly, you reached behind you to touch Cabernet's hand atop your thigh, which she gripped tightly, as if trying to make sure you couldn't move away. You felt the rumbling whine against your neck like she was anticipating you wanting her to stop or slow down when she had yet to be satisfied.

Instead, you entwined your fingers with hers, pressing her palm firmly against your thigh. "You...you can go harder," you said breathlessly.

There was a moment when Cabernet completely went still above you at your words.

Then, she released an absolutely carnal moan before she placed a hand at the small of your back. The force was enough that your knees immediately splayed out on either side of you to where you were now pressed completely flat against the floor. She roughly rucked up the length of your dress to bunch it around around your waist, and you could feel the fur of the coat brush against your inner thighs with every thrust. You felt that sensation most keenly at your clit as the fine strands parted and wrapped itself around the little nub with every stroke back and forth.

Cabernet seemed to keep you in torment that way for the longest time as she held you down and completely laid into you. While you had tried to remain quiet in the beginning—you were still at a party after all—Cabernet would roll her hips in such a way to press at a point inside you that you couldn't help but cry out.

You heard a gasp that came from neither of you along with quick, muffled footsteps leading further away until the door to the coat closet slammed shut. In your current state, you couldn't even begin to tell how far the guest—or even guests perhaps—had intruded into the room before finding you both. Ordinarily, you'd be embarrassed beyond belief at being caught in such a predicament.

Instead, you only tightened harder around Cabernet's cock, and that was finally enough to send her over the edge. You felt the pinprick of pain at your neck first before the deep throb of her shaft, sending wave after wave of seed inside you. You hadn't seen each other in over a month, and you could only imagine how badly she'd been backed up.

After some time, she finally released your neck from her teeth, and she was kind enough to lick away the slow trickle of blood as she idly rocked her hips into you, still trying to ensure enough of her remained inside you as possible. As the guest of honor, however, she couldn't remain gone forever, no matter how much you both wished otherwise.

It was with immense reluctance that she pulled out of you at all, and you whimpered when your oversensitive cunt was finally empty. You could still feel her warm seed spilling out of you though. It was forming a sticky mess between your legs as it seeped into the fur coat beneath you.

You felt like a newborn foal as you were helped onto your shaky legs. It felt unfair that Cabernet already looked more presentable than you —not to mention a great deal more relaxed. It was as if the past hour hadn't occurred at all for her, but you still felt the powerful aftereffects of her affections.

She helped wipe away most of the evidence splattered across your thighs with the discarded coat, but then she slid your underwear back into place, stopping the slow flow of cum still inside you. With a pleased hum, she gently patted your folds, which had you blushing harder with the words that came after.

"A late night snack for me to enjoy later."

Cabernet had scheduled you for the entire weekend, and you still had the whole night to get through with her first. Now thoroughly satisfied, she led you out of the room. You made to grab Chelsea's coat off the floor, feeling awkward for simply leaving it there, but Cabernet's grip was firm.

"Leave it," she said, her tone dismissive of the item. "It's already soiled after all. We've much better things to concern ourselves with."

---AFTERPARTY---

You thanked all your lucky stars that all the guests had already gone home for the evening because you were certain the hot tub wasn't meant to be utilized this way...

A sharp cry left you throat, and you placed your hands over Cabernet's forearms to help steady yourself as you leaned back against her. With her strength, she had positioned you until you were in front of one of the jets. You were gasping for breath when you felt the strong stream of water hitting your clit. Your entire body shook when she pulled back the hood on the already oversensitive nub, exposing as much of it as possible to the tub jet. The sensation was enough to make you cum, your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing although that wouldn't be the case for long.

Cabernet took the opportunity to slide herself eagerly into you while you were still in the throes of your climax. Mercifully, however, she moved you away from the jet of water, knowing the dual stimulation was far too much for you to handle at the moment. She moved to sit back down on the tub's bench, content to let you cockwarm her. However, just as Cabernet was greedy for your touch, you were just as greedy for hers.

As such, you turned yourself around in her lap and began riding her slowly beneath the moonlight as she laid her arms out on the side of the tub, smirking up at you. After all, who wouldn't be smug at having a beautiful woman ride them?

With the excitement you both shared earlier though, you weren't in any rush to reach another high, and she understood that. She sighed with satisfaction as she dropped her head back, letting her rich, red hair fan out behind her. You bit your lap at such a sensual image, unconsciously squeezing around her, which she encouraged with a subtle rock of her hips.

"Sweet Girl, I will offer you anything you desire," she said, and the yearning tone had you looking at her once more. Even beneath those hooded eyes, you were certain they were glowing this time, but Cabernet didn't seem the least bit interested in hiding them. In fact, as she palmed your hips, she seemed to encourage you to look your fill, letting you fall beneath the gaze of a predator who would never know a hunger sated.

At least not when it came to you.

Her smile was sharp and all-consuming as she regarded you. "So long as you are mine..."

[senseofnewness]

What do you think dating Stanford!art is like?

stanford!art being your college boyfriend [NSFW]

• you met during orientation week, despite having different majors, you and art were placed in the same group of fifteen people, all wearing matching blue 'stanford' t-shirts, everyone was quiet and shy at first, but with each building visited, the atmosphere grew more comfortable

• during the campus tour, you muttered a few sarcastic comments under your breath, causing him to chuckle more than once, amused by your wit, he gravitated towards you and introduced himself, walking by your side for the rest of the tour

• afterwards, each time you met him in the corridors, you would nod and greet each other with a playful "sup, blue" referencing your orientation group, he always responded with a huge grin, and it was then you began to notice just how cute he looked, you thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t like all of those stupid jocks, or maybe he was, you had barely exchanged two words but getting to know him could be worth it

• one day, during lunch, you found yourself standing behind him in line at the cafeteria and greeted him as you filled your tray with food, after a quick, casual chat about how school was going, he invited you to join him and his friends at his table, "sure" you answered with a shrug, thinking you were going to eat alone anyway, so why not join the hot boy from the tennis club?

• at the table, he introduced you as his friend, even though you would consider him barely an acquaintance, just a familiar face you were always pleased to see, you quickly got along with everyone, your talkative nature taking over, from time to time, you felt art's eyes on you, an amused smile lingering on his lips as he sat across from you

• he had mentioned having a match the following day and invited you to come along, you barely knew anything about tennis, but you thought this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about him, as tennis seemed to be such an important part of his life, so you accepted his invitation and promised to be there to cheer him on

• the match took place at 2pm the next day and your neck was starting to ache from following the ball as it flew from one side of the court to the other, art returned every volley with precision, steadily gaining the upper hand over his opponent, you knew nothing about the rules of tennis, but the cheers from the audience were enough to assure you that art was winning the match

• art had humiliated his opponent, the score so one-sided it was almost absurd, you skipped down the bleachers to join him on the court, "well played, blue!" you called out, your voice carrying over the distance, he waved at you, a smug look on his face, "thanks" he said, "you should stick around, we’re having a little celebratory get-together”

• once at the party, it didn’t take long for the yapper in you to find a group of people to overshare with, but art remained by your side, filling your glass every time it came close to being empty, there was something truly endearing about the way he noticed when you were about to finish your drink, always making sure you never got thirsty, on the other hand, you couldn't help but wonder if it was wise to trust a stranger with your drink

• now it was just the two of you, you were tipsy and art was discussing the earlier match in detail, although you had no particular interest in talking about tennis at the moment, or ever, art made it captivating, you hung on every word, your eyes fixed on his lips, "what do you think?" he asked, pulling you out of your reverie, "what?" you blurted out, "seems like you're really into tennis" he teased, "what can I say? i love balls", both of you chuckled, "you kinda remind me of my friend patrick", what did that mean? his friend? you had no desire to be just his friend, you needed to make your intentions clear, "why? does he love your balls too?"

• "dance with me” you said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, "i can't dance" he protested, though he followed you willingly, like a docile boy, "come on, it's not rocket science, just put your hands on me and move", his hands settled on your hips as you swayed your body against his to the music, the space between you diminished as he leaned in, his eyes locking with yours, you tilted your head slightly and he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss, first gentle, then more passionate as tongues met, tangling, you could taste the alcohol in his saliva

• the rest of the night passed in a blur, with you and art making out in every corner of the place, each time someone approached, you would shift to a new spot, not out of embarrassment but to avoid being interrupted by chatter, all you wanted was to keep your lips pressed against his, to feel the thrill of his touch, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him, there was something irresistibly addictive about the sensation of his soft blond curls slipping through your fingers, soon, it became harder to breathe, and you found yourself craving more of him with an intense, almost desperate hunger

• you were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around Art’s hips as he stood before you, the heat between your core and his growing more intense by the second, you felt an urgent need for him, “we should go to sleep” you suggested, lying in hopes that he would catch your hint, “i should walk you to your dorm” he murmured against your lips, reluctantly pulling away, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”

• the walk back to your place was a mix of light-hearted chatter and giggles, as you reached your door, you lingered there, biting your lower lip in anticipation while fiddling with your keys, “want to watch a movie?” you asked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “sure” he replied, his eyes bright with desire as he followed you inside after you unlocked the door

• the first movie played, then the next, and the one after that, but you barely registered what was on the screen, you were way too focused on him, comfortably wrapped in his embrace and between kisses and sharing stories about your lives, you learned about Art’s years at the tennis academy in Florida, his best friend Patrick, and his beloved grandmother, but you also became intimately familiar with his body, you weren’t sure who made the first move, perhaps it was you, but your hand now caressed his length, while his fingers teased your clit, both of you moaning softly, lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch

• after minutes of intense overstimulation, both of you were exhausted, breathing heavily, “shit, i should go” art muttered, quickly standing up, “the coach is going to get my ass if i'm late to morning practice”, you pouted in disappointment as he adjusted his semi-hard cock back into his pants while you wiped his cum off your hand onto your shirt, “give me your phone” you said, extending your now-cleaned hand, he passed it over and you began typing in your number, “text me when you’re back at your dorm” you instructed, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty boy like you”, his smile widened at your teasing remark echoing his earlier words

• you had fallen asleep after his departure and the first thing you noticed when you woke up was his ‘morning, blue’ text, the fact that he had thought about you first thing after training brought a smile to your face, throughout the day, you exchanged texts about nothing and everything all at once, later that day, you joined him after classes, eager to see him in person, nothing was better than being face-to-face and lips-to-lips

• in the days that followed, sneaking into each other’s dorms after authorized hours became a thrilling game, dodging the resident assistants’ watchful eyes, you’d slip into each other’s beds, where you mostly got off by dry humping, though you were ready for more but art wanted to take things slow, wanting to show you it was more than just sex, and while you thought his intentions were sweet, you secretly wished he would stop respecting you so much and just stretch you out with his pretty cock

• it took just a few more days before art was balls deep inside you, his resolve crumbled when you sat on top of him and rubbed yourself against his bulge, in a swift motion, he flipped you over and undressed you, rolling on a condom before thrusting himself inside, he fucked you like no one ever had, releasing all the built-up tension, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his asscheeks, and your moans were muffled by his mouth on yours, he had made you come more than once that night

• art was also the first guy to venture his tongue between your legs, apart from a boyfriend or two, you weren't that experienced, and no one had ever shown interest in pleasuring you that way, so when art ate you out for the first time, it was a revelation, you doubted you could ever go back to anything else but oral sex, while art was certainly a good fuck, his dick was far less skilled than his tongue, he attentively sucked on your swollen clit, turning you into a moaning mess, and all you had to do was lie there and watch him work, his face glistening with your juices, you loved being helpless under his care

• you only realized how much you cared about him when you saw him interacting with another girl in the cafeteria, tashi duncan, you recognized her from the posters, she was leaning over the table, chatting with him, and he was smiling back at her, the sight ignited a wave of jealousy in you and you moved closer to the table as she walked away, “who was she?” you asked, sitting down beside him, he looked at you before responding that she was a friend of his, “she’s cute” you added, a hint of bitterness lacing your voice, “didn’t notice” he replied, though you could tell he was lying, “sure” you said, rolling your eyes, only an idiot would miss tashi’s charms, but it’s not like you could act possessive and call him out on his bullshit, after all, you didn’t own him, you weren’t his girlfriend

• you were studying in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed, when he finally spoke the words you had been waiting to hear, “you know i like you a lot” he confessed, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that revealed his nervousness, you could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying his emotions, “i do too” you replied, meeting his gaze with a smile, then, with a hopeful tone, he asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend?” you grinned, your heart swelling with happiness, “wait, i wasn’t already?” you teased, pretending to be shocked, “shit, i need to cancel the wedding!” with a laugh, you nodded your head and cupped his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips

• making it official had made everything more concrete, taking things to a more intense level, sure, you were already spending every night fucking each other’s brains out, but now condoms were a thing of the past, fucking you raw had made a monster out of art, he reveled in every opportunity to fill you with his cum, enjoying the sight of his warm load dripping out of you down your thighs, in the past, he had come covered your body with his semen, ass, face, tits, multiple times, but now that seemed wasteful, only your tight little cunt was worthy of welcoming him, and he made sure to take full advantage of it

• you became his biggest cheerleader, attending every match, proudly wearing t-shirts with his face and name on, the whole campus knew you as art donaldson’s girlfriend, and while you liked the attention, you couldn’t ignore the whispers, you secretly wished people would acknowledge you for your own accomplishments, rather than just being the tennis prodigy’s ‘pathetic little puppy who follows him around’

• while he had mostly called you ‘blue’ in the past, you now held the cherished title of ‘baby’ and being his baby came with certain privileges : his wardrobe had become yours, you had lost count of how many times you had stolen one of his shirts or caps, also he now walked you to your classes every day, hand in hand, always insisting on carrying your backpack, sometimes, you shared such long kisses in front of the classroom door that he ended up being late to his own class, everyone passing by shooting you side-eye glances, but you both are too wrapped up in each other to even care

• kissing wasn’t the only thing you did in public, you took great pleasure in giving art random boners, turning it into a game, a game that boosted your self-esteem like no other, you loved watching him struggle and blush as he tried to discreetly adjust his growing length in his pants, all it took was sitting on his lap and subtly rubbing your ass against him, pressing your breasts against his chest during hugs, playing with his hair, wearing shirts with no bra on, or simply licking your lip, okay, you had to admit, art was also the type of boy who got horny at the mere sight of you breathing

• a few weeks later, you finally met patrick, along with his girlfriend, tashi duncan, you had never approached her before, she was too intimidating for that, patrick, on the other hand, was as friendly as can be, filling every moment with questions and jokes, never allowing a second of silence to settle between you, you could see why art thought you were similar, both unable to shut up, with patrick around, you discovered a new side of art, a playful, childlike side, so while the two of them got caught up in their reckless antics, you found yourself stuck with tashi, gradually getting to know her and even ending up befriending her

• sometimes, after a long practice, art is too tired to join you in your room for the night, on those days, you make sure to convince him that you’re worth the exhaustion, like that time you sent him a picture of yourself wearing nothing but the blue shirt from orientation week, your nipples pressed hard against the fabric and your lacy panties sheer enough to reveal your hairless cunt, he was at your door in five minutes, his sore muscles an afterthought

• you two are like animals, fucking in every room and every position possible, gone was the shy, respectful art from orientation week who touched you with such a gentle care, he now grabbed you by the hair as he aggressively shoved his throbbing cock in you any time he felt like it, calling you like ‘his little whore’ while painting your walls with his thick cum, your sessions had become a contest of who could outmoan the other, often interrupted by banging on the walls and people yelling from the other side of the door

• it had only been two months of dating when he finally said "i love you", you were acting silly, making him laugh, when he blurted it out, taken aback, you felt a rush of emotions, you had wanted to say it for days but had not dared, when you had discussed it with your friends, they all agreed it was way too early for that, “i love you too” you eagerly whispered, pulling him into a deep kiss

• for your birthday, he had given you a silver necklace adorned with your birthstone, it was so beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he had chosen such a thoughtful gift, you only had been dating for a few months after all, you wore it every day, never taking it off except for showers, you loved how it hung perfectly between your breasts and how it bounced against your hard nipples while you rode art's hard cock

• “i want three kids” he said after fucking you, his hands wandering over your stomach, stroking it gently, “three?” you gasped in shock, “come on, let’s have one and then we’ll see” you tried to reason with him, but that only sparked new ideas in his head, “should we?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement, you knew he wanted children, it was obvious from all that dirty talk about filling you up and making him a daddy but you didn’t think he was that serious about it, “art, we’re 19” you reminded him and he shrugged nonchalantly in response, “so, am I just destined to be your little tennis wife? popping your babies out one after the other while you become a superstar?” you teased, though a part of you was serious, you had plans for your future, and while children were part of it, there were still so many things you wanted to experience and accomplish first, sure, you loved him, but you weren’t ready to be overshadowed by a man or to become just an extension of him

• for christmas, art visited his grandmother at her nursing home, and you insisted on coming along, bringing a batch of home-baked treats for her, when you finally met her, it was clear where art had inherited his sweet nature, watching him shower her with care and affection made you imagine a near future where you could give him the children he desired so much, ultimately your mother would forgive you for being a teen mom once she would hold your first child, right?

• his grandmother had come to adore you, and soon it was you insisting on visiting her, one day, she proudly showed you her ring, a cherished gift from her late husband, and promised that one day it would be on your finger, thoughts of weddings began to swirl in your mind and you found yourself wondering if being just an athlete’s wife might not be such a terrible fate after all