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scribefindegil · 8 months ago

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Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

#back to the future #bttf #lorraine baines mcfly #this is what i mean when i say that lorraine has SO many interesting things going on and i do not think that most of them were on purpose #but i'm here and i have a shovel.#anyway. i would kill for her.

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theealbatross · 1 year ago

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kiss me (s.s.)

Plot | You fought, kissed, and made up. But it could never be that easy.

or, Sebastian took two steps forward and three steps back.

Tags | insecurities, social pressures, obsessive tendencies, slytherin!reader, dark!seb and reader if you squint, but not really, underage drinking (theyre all 16-18 in this), they're just crazy about each other and can't tell anyone, kissing (duh) nothing too PG, happy ending?, read 4k words and figure it out, if the end made you scream say 'aye'

[ 6th Year ]

“Spin that fucking bottle!”

If you had known what absolute monstrosity you would create when you introduced muggle sleepover games to your housemates you would’ve gone to bed early.

But now, you were surrounded by drunk, nosy, Slytherins that were dead-set on exposing each other’s most embarrassing secrets. No one was safe.

“Imelda!” Everyone cheered, Grace quickly hooked her arms around the other girl’s neck when she tried to escape.

The party had long since been over, most of the students from other houses had already retired to their own rooms but those who had friends in Slytherin (like Poppy and Natty) or were too drunk to journey back to the spiraling staircases of their houses safely (like Everett and Samantha) decided to sober up for a while in the Quidditch Grand Champion’s common room.

“Are you actually as mean as you pretend to be or do you just not know how to make friends,” Natty slurred, pointing and wagging a finger at her.

If she was in a better constitution, she would’ve been able to brush off that accusation easily and with confidence but a dozen of improved (thanks Garreth) Firewhiskey shots later and the ever-guarded Imelda flushed in embarrassment to the surprise of everyone. The small circle burst out laughing, Imelda pushed Grace away in annoyance.

“It’s okay, ‘melda. We love you as you are!” Poppy was definitely still hammered.

“Next, next, next!”

The bottle spun and spun but your eyes were at the boy who had just returned from tucking Ominis in their shared dorm. You smiled up at him as he sat in the reserved space available just for him right beside you. “Omi?” you mouthed.

He squeezed your hands, silently letting you know your lightweight friend was now safely tucked in his own bed and ready to welcome the worst hangover he had ever known tomorrow.

“Well, well, well! Our brilliant, beloved, beater!”

It was when you turned your eyes back down on the ground that you saw that the mouth of the bottle was now undoubtedly pointed at Sebastian.

“Mate, I just got here!”

The crowd booed, Sebastian receiving light punches and playful jeers. “It’s the rules, Sallow!”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, the false inventor of such guidelines. You smirked, shrugging, “Rules are rules.”

Sebastian gaped at the betrayal. He gave you a look that lets you know he’ll get you back for this, even secretly poking your waist sharply. You didn’t like the way your housemate’s eyes glinted at the small interaction. Oh no.

“Alright, Alright,” Garreth shushed the crowd with two outstretched hands. “I have the million galleon question! I’m sure everyone will praise my genius for it!”

“Get on with it already!”

The Gryffindor threw a drunken glare at the voice from the back of the common room. “Now, I’m sure our dear Sebastian, despite receiving many letters of admiration and flutters of pretty lashes –”

“Gross,” Imelda grumbled.

“—has yet to officially court someone!” Garreth announced, arms stretched wide like he was a ringmaster about to start his greatest show. Everyone oo-ed and ahh-ed and cheered.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Sebastian, for all the eyes that were on him, managed to maintain the small smile on his cocky face.

It was true. You were not blind to the … physical developments he had undergone the last two years nor to the attention it had garnered him. The boy you had sneaked around Hogwarts with in your fifth year had disappeared and was replaced by a man. An unfairly tall, tanned, attractive man. You damn near walked past him again if he had not pulled you to his side on your first day during your 6th year.

You weren’t ignorant of it, nor were you dumb enough to deny your attraction to your friend.

But you are a lady. And his friend.

His most trusted, beloved friend (his words not yours).

You’d rather not risk your lifelong connection if he won’t. You know how to read between the lines as blurry as it had become. He’s lost too much and you refuse to become another scar in his soul. The both of you have had enough of that to last you till the next lifetime.

“So, my question is,” your eyes widened when you felt two hands on each of your shoulders, in your deep reverie you have failed to notice Garreth sneaking behind your back or that all conniving eyes and raised eyebrows were now on you.

Sebastian smiled.

“Kiss, Marry, Kill.”

[ 7th Year ]

It was by incredible luck that your 7th year of Hogwarts called for the Triwizard tournaments to be held in Hogwarts.

You were prepared to enjoy the event in relative peace. Happy that for once you would be the spectator of all the action instead of being the one in the middle of it.

Life just can’t make it that easy for you.

You did not even realize that Sebastian of all people had thrown his name in as consideration until he had been called and your dreams of a quiet last year in Hogwarts were shot to the depths of hell. It was the first time in a while that you felt true fear, the type that froze all your blood solid.

The fight that followed in the Undercroft was explosive.

“How could you be so reckless, Sebastian?! People die in these games! Why would you do this?!”

Just the thought of it makes your stomach sink. Sebastian will be front and center of this bloody battle of pride that is broadcasted to the entire wizarding world. It was different when it was the two of you jumping through all types of danger – this time you won’t be able to help him. He will be alone.

Yet, when you had expected a valid explanation and a plan out of all this madness he instead looked at you with such anger and vitriol that you physically flinched.

“Because I am sick of being just your friend!” Even Ominis pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. Foreseeing a tragedy about to uncontrollably unroll. “I’m constantly surrounded by you two! Ominis Gaunt, the scion of the purest bloodline in the wizarding world, the Heir of Slytherin who could do no wrong! How brilliant!”

He cackled a laugh, he looked like a man at the brink of insanity. How long had he been holding on to these thoughts?

“And you!”

“Sebastian enough –” Ominis tried to cut through his mania but he wasn’t having any of it. Once the words were out, there was no taking them back in. He was cursed – he will have to see it through.

“Famed Hero of Hogwarts,” each word was dripped in poison, the insecurities bubbling inside him caused him to lash out at anyone and everyone who dared question his decision. How could they understand? How would they understand a nobody? “Do you know how tired I am of being in your shadow?”

He felt the sting before he heard it, the slap drowned the Undercroft in silence. Then, the weight of his grave words sunk in. The green haze in his head cleared just to see the boiling tears falling down your distraught face.

What has he –

“Then let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian,” your face crumpled, physically pained by such cruelty from your dearest companion. “You’re on your own this time.”

That had been months ago, aside from the few classes you had together he had not even seen you anywhere else. Not even in the first game when he had sent you an owl begging you for a chance to apologize and dedicating his win to you. The victory over the other contestants tasted bitter when he couldn’t find your face in the celebrating crowd.

And the pit in his chest turned into a black hole when he caught Ominis at the edge of the celebration shaking his head. She didn’t come. He’s lost her.

Ominis refused to help him – not that he deserved any. In retrospect, it was ... silly – the insecurities he had been shamefully hiding. He knew his friends had never seen him short of an equal but it’s difficult to see the good when the entire world is looking down at you with cruel, disapproving eyes when your back is turned. Cruel whispers they made sure only he could hear.

“I thought he’d live somewhere more posh.” “Sallow? Dating her? That’s preposterous he’s an orphan with barely a galleon to his name.” “Why do you think they keep him around?”

It was stupid and irrational and he handled it in the worst possible way. Lashed out at the one person who least deserved it, who went through hell to drag him back out, then benevolently tended to all the wounds and scars in his humanity till he was himself again.

“Let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian.”

He slammed his head on the wall he was leaning on, the heartbreaking image of her distressed face was a nightmare that had chased him awake or asleep. Sebastian may deserve this but you most definitely didn’t. He never deserved you.

Yet, here he was, sitting on the floor of the Ravenclaw Tower with a wilted bouquet of wildflowers he had picked before breakfast, hoping he could catch her somehow. He ignored the giggles, snickers, and confused questions thrown his way no matter how embarrassed he felt. He wasn’t moving from this spot until he can apologize – the silent treatment was torture worse than Crucio. And he had been hit with one.

At the first sound of the walls transforming, he was already up on his feet, his hands instinctively brushing his hair as if looking presentable would even out his chances of repairing his most treasured friendship.

The door opened and finally, your eyes met his. The tension was something that would choke even the greediest puffskein. Your eyes were wide, unblinking and your lips were pursed in a fine line that communicated how much you loathed being in his presence. He hopes you know that you could never hate him as much as he hated himself at this very moment.

“For you!” It was only when it was being offered to you did he realize how abysmal the dying bouquet he had been carrying in his hands since this morning looked. But it was too late now, she was already here, looking at the flower then back to him and all the lines he had practiced flew out of his head.

Instead, he just fell to his knees, prostrating, tears already threatening to fall down his face. He had never been an honorable man. “Sebastian! Get up!”

“I will do anything you ask me to,” The feel of her touch made his skin tingle. After months of not even catching your eyes or hearing your voice and it was more than worth it to suffer through all this humiliation just for this moment. Even if you may never forgive him at least he could apologize. He’ll have a better last moment with you than your fight. “I’ll win the games. I’ll quit. I’ll drop out of Hogwarts if that’s what you want just, please … forgive me.”

He felt your arms wrap around him but he was too distraught, barely comprehending that you had somehow pulled him back into the room until the two of you fell on the ground and the door of the room slammed shut. Still, he continued sobbing in your arms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he drenched your neck with his anguished tears. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian wasn’t playing fair but your forgiveness was a prize he was willing to cheat to earn. There would be no point of honor if he lost you – anyone else but you.

“It wasn’t anything you did. It was me,” he sobbed. “I just – you and Ominis became such incredible people that I realized it was me who had not become anyone. I am a nobody!”

“Sebastian that is just not true –”

“It’s moronic I know! But I just thought … if I could win these games … if I could stop being just myself and be a champion then I can finally earn the spot beside you.”

It was embarrassing to admit all that, the deep insecurities that had festered inside of him the moment he was finally faced with the reality of the world. That he was surround by great people who has and will achieve great things and he was … him. A failure, a murderer, a burden.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” your cold voice woke him up from his self-lashings.

He sniffed, nodding, finally finding the strength and shame to sit up on his knees in front of you. “I … I really am so sorry.”

He pinched his eyes shut, preparing himself for the worst. His nails digging in his palm in an effort to stop it from shaking. However, it took one touch of your palms to break through all his pretenses. “I forgive you.”

He crumbled in relief, jumping into your open arms in a mess of tears, snot, and even more apologies.

“I know, I know,” you shushed him, hands tight even as he soaked your shirt through. “Ominis talked to me and … Sebastian you really are so silly. What do you mean you're a nobody? You're the top student in our year! So much so that all those Ravenclaws have declared you their enemy. You're the greatest beater in our generation that even I have been receiving owls begging me to somehow convince you to play for their team when you graduate! I can't even imagine how many times I would have gotten in trouble or straight-up died if it wasn't for you! I swear you're so fucking daft sometimes!”

He nodded eagerly, taking any jabs you may have if it meant you were talking to him. Even if it was still difficult for him to accept that any of those achievements you dictated could ever surmount to what you had achieved he knew it wasn't smart to try and correct it now when you had just forgiven his transgressions. “Stupid, stupid, boy.”

It was there in that room that your fractured friendship was mended with a bunch of dead flowers and Sebastian’s tears.

To celebrate, you had produced a couple of leftover Hogshead Brew for the two of you to enjoy till you were tipsy enough to forget the past horrible months without each other and were now giggling to each other’s face as if to make up for all the laughs you were owed in the months of silence.

“Lay back down, your eyes are going to be swollen shut.”

He’s been crying so hard for so long that he was too tired to do anything but follow your words, laying at the center of the bed you’ve conjured and sighing at the warm cloth you pressed on his eyes that miraculously stopped the world from spinning.

If he thinks too hard about the shameful faces he had shown you, he fears he’s going to combust, instead he focused on the rake of your nails on his hair, the familiar scent of your perfume he had given to you as a gift for your birthday last year, and the weight of your head as you laid on his stomach while the alcohol coursed through his body.

“You shouldn’t quit.”

He folded the cloth in one eye to take a peek at you. You giggled sweetly, clearly taking the drink harder than him, and gods above did he miss it. His happiness was cut short however when you crawled over the length of his body and instead plopped next to him, your head resting on his outstretched arm.

Physical affection wasn’t new to the two of you – after what you had been through hugs and holding hands were something the two of you found comfort in, a reminder that despite everything, the two of you made it out together – but after a few months without it he was faced with the realization of how unconventionally intimate your friendship truly was.

“Like I said, Ominis explained to me how you’ve been feeling – only another man would ever understand a bruised man’s ego. And if this is what’s going to make you feel better then I will support you till the end.” He turned his head so he can look at your eyes. When you cupped his face he felt his gut curl on itself from adoration. “But make no mistake Sebastian, the two of us have always been equals. We’re kindred spirits, remember?”

Kindred spirits, he thought. He remembers the first time he called the two of you that -- something a little cheeky for the first witch who didn't sneer in disgust at the prospects of his less than favorable past time. The curiosity in your eyes then was one he had seen in his own, even then he had this funny feeling that you were going to get along very well.

If he only knew how right he was, he would've thought he was a prodigy in divination.

A tear once again pebbled at the memory but just as he closed his eyes ready to wipe it away you were already sitting up, throwing the wet cloth and pressing a kiss on the edge of it. Sebastian sucked in a breath, blinking to see you hovering over him now. He’s never seen you this zealous. The passion in your eyes is almost mirroring his own.

It would seem whatever was in that brew had smashed through your inhibitions and his pride as he let you continue peppering kisses all over his face.

“You are very precious to me,” she whispered fondly, her gaze soft, drunk and adoring then it turned dark, an emotion crossed your face that he’d only seen when you had been fighting the meanest of foes. “I’d blow this entire school up before I let any of them think they could take your place in my life.”

Sebastian shuddered, his entire body burning under your gaze.

Leaning over again, you pressed another kiss on his other eyelid. “I won’t allow anyone to take you away from me.”

On his forehead. “And you are not allowed to leave me. I forbid it, Sebastian.”

As pathetic as it was, the words were everything he needed to hear. The possession healing over all his insecurities like a balm.

He has always been a selfish lad. His parents and everything he had ever known were ripped away from him at too early of an age that it made him realize that he needed to protect Anne because she was all he had but even that exploded spectacularly into a tragedy.

And then he met you and finally, finally, he met his person. Someone who was seemingly made just for him. Someone who understood him for all his secrets and flaws and still called him a friend.

However, it would seem that he was cursed of a cruel fate. Because the one person who was supposed to be just his turned out to be the most sought-after witch of their generation with the type of magic that had not been seen in centuries. At first, it didn’t matter, he was confident of his place in your life. But as the two of you grew up, the reality that your position in society were skies apart was when his insecurities began to painfully blossom.

But this … it was nice to be claimed like this. To be able to hear and see the crazed obsession he had only seen in his own reflection be mirrored by the one person he needed it from the most. The whole world can laugh behind his back, it didn’t matter anymore. The most brilliant witch in history is in this bed with him, kissing all his insecurities away and branding him as hers.

He chuckled but was cut short when you pressed a softer kiss just by the edge of his smile. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, his ears failing to hear anything else but the next words out of your mouth. “Do you understand me, Sebastian?”

It has never been clearer: she is his.

“You are mine.”

With her final words, Sebastian’s brain seems to finally function again. A surge of alcohol and courage caused him to raise his limbs to cup your face, pulling you closer and closer so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since your first duel.

A kiss. A promise. The final bind that would lock your souls together forevermore.

You gasped, smiling through the kiss before you plopped your entire body on top of his, your body finally getting overwhelmed by the alcohol and all that has happened in the past hours – knocking you straight into a dreamless sleep.

For the first time in a long, long while, he was at peace.

The two of you may never remember this moment but he’ll know it in his soul. In this dim room, surrounded by her scent, and her skin, and her kisses – he has finally found where he belongs and who belonged to him.

He pulled you into him – tighter, closer. It didn’t matter, you were his.

Only his.

“Guess we made up?”

When you woke up Sebastian was already lounging in the ottoman by the end of the bed, casually reading a book while you were crawling towards him with your blanket over your head and suffering through a hangover.

If not for the redness in his eyes you would’ve thought you hallucinated his teary apologies.

He was quick to open up his form, grabbing a decorative pillow for you as you laid down on his lap dramatically. You don’t remember much but you knew enough that the big fight was forgotten and forgiven.

“Guess so, darling,” he chuckled nonchalantly, back to his cool, charming self as if he hadn’t been a crybaby in your arms just yesterday.

‘Darling’? That’s new.

You grinned, letting him pet you. You weren’t complaining, not being friends with Sebastian felt wrong and it was a miracle you stood your ground as hard as you did.

“Aren’t I so gracious, dear?” you teased, poking his stomach to make him flinch. The two of you laughed. “What happened after I popped out that blasted poison from Hogshead?”

When you try to comb through your memories your headache fights back with a vengeance so you had hoped he would supply the blank pages in your mind.

He stared at you for a beat before sighing, looking truly as miffed as you. “I wish I remembered, I’m in the dark as much as you.”

And as much as he knows it was wrong to not try to remember, he also knew he wouldn’t be able to live through the embarrassment of what he might’ve been telling you while he was drunk and emotional again. It was a mistake but he was more than happy to let those blank memories remain blank. What’s important is that you are friends again.

“Let’s focus on the future now, hm? No sense digging through what would definitely be an embarrassing moment for me,” he groaned, pinching your cheeks when you gave him a teasing smile.

You hesitated, biting your lip but then nodded. “If you say so.” It was in the past after all.

Sebastian was glad you let it go. (He will regret this in years to come.)

“Speaking of futures, I had wanted to ask you,” he played with the short strands of your hair, heart full of adoration as he looked down at your face. “Go to the Yule Ball with me? Gotta have a pretty date for this year.”

You dramatically gasped, “The Future Triwizard Champion asking little old me? Also, I was your date last year, scoundrel!”

He burst out laughing, you jumped into his arms, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

His lips tingled, his head ached as it begged him to remember. But then you flashed him that bright smile and nothing else mattered.

“I would love to.”

The two of you were back to what you had once been. It would just be greedy to ask for more.

Right?

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebsatian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy

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grugruel · 1 year ago

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I am-- in DESPERATE need of Prewar cooper Howard FILTHY smut. Taking his Co-star in his trailer on set on a hot summer's day and they're both sweaty and needy and he's got a FILTHY mouth on him. maybe she plays the damsel in distress and he can't get over how good she looks all tied up 🔥 she definitely enjoys teasing him but takes it too far,, poor cooper 😔😏

Yessss, currently feeling feral, so this was perfect. Did my best, hope you love it🫶

Quiet on set

Pairings: pre-war!Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: wrapping yet another movie together, these co-stars take out their constant tension in Coopers trailer.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: (acted violence and death), pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, edging, lap-riding, cowgirl, doggy, bratty reader, petnames (sweetheart, princess, girl, woman), praise, slight degradation, choking (blink and you'll miss it).

AN: Currently working through my requests, it might take some time for those of you that sent them in! But I appreciate you all, thank you!!

I could feel that heavy star-studded aura bearing it's weight down on me, his eyes ransacking every part of my body while he awaited his cue. Through the blinding stage lights, just out off frame–he stood hungry–strong hands white-knuckling his belt while teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

'Help! Somebody please save me!' I cried out, the rattling railroad tracks cool beneath my body. The air was stuffy and hard to breathe, clamming to my body as the mid summer heat penetrated the studio walls. Truly making the desert set come alive.

Enter: The Man from Deadhorse. Walking into picture with his signature gait, spurs jingling and eyes acting as he stared my captor down. Heat practically burning in his gaze as he delivered the infamouse line, "Feo, fuerty, y formal."

But a growing suspicion resided–perhaps it was not acting at all, but rather me, that had him ignite that way.

The bang of a revolver shot out, hitting the antagonist right between the eyes as a result of an experienced and deadly aim.

Dignified indeed.

I yelped, making my eyes big with shock. 'You came!' And then let a relived smile soften my expression.

The sound of a charging train began rolling, a billowing steam engine and a piping whistle thundering along a railroad. But it was no worry anymore, I was to be saved.

The sheriff's starved eyes switched to me and my bound form.

Swiftly, he moved over the dusty desert set in his blue and yellow getup. In a second of harrowing anticipation, placed in clever calculation to have the viewers at the edge of their seats, he loomed over me, that infamous gaze following every curve of my body. The rope circling me in such a way that it accentuated my goods, and what the cameras did not see, was a ravenous smirk on the hero's lips–holding a silent promise ment only for me.

In a flashy movement, he cut the rope from my body and pulled me off of the tracks and into his embrace, the camera panning to us as the sound of the train just missing our bodies passed by the frame.

'Don't worry sweetheart, you're safe now.' He purred, voice drawling with that trademark smile accenting his lips, lips that only a second later collided with my own in a strong, righteous kiss-

'CUT!' A voice bellowed, and the set bustled to life with congratualations and handshakes as they were traded between the crew and cast, celebrating yet another wrap.

But his lips had stayed on mine for a second or two too long, and I had to pull away. Gasping for air, pretending that we simply hadn't heard the call over the ruckus.

'My trailer in 10 minutes, honey. Don't be late. . . I got a surprise for you.' He whispered in my ear, disguising our continued embrace as a friendly, celebrating hug. A hug with a condensed, slap off the ass–hard enough to sting, quiet enough to go undetected.

And with a wink, he was off. Chatting and laughing while coworkers patted his back with him returning the gesture. Meanwhile I myself became wrapped up in party-ready colleagues of my own. But the partying would have to wait, I had somewhere far more fulfilling to be.

I hadent been able to keep the 10 minute mark, the cast and crew had stuck around for longer than I'd thought. Which made sneaking to his trailer all the more difficult, but I managed. Eventually.

I opened the door to a dark, even hotter cabin, no movement or noise that I could detect. But the second I shut that door behind me, he revealed himself.

'There you are. . .' A low voice growled from the shadows. Then there was a sound of groaning threads, a woosh, and I was captured. A lasso had been thrown around my body, pinning my arms to my sides as I was blindly pulled into the depths of the darkness, and collided with something, strong, something hard. 'You kept me waitin' princess. Fame gone to your head already?' The words were breathed against my cheek, puffs of his sultry breath warming my already damp skin deliciously.

'I imagine I'll be on your level soon.' I hooked my index fingers through his belt loops, eyes adjusting to the dark as I pullied him closer with what little movement I was allowed. 'Now, I want my surprise.' I pouted, brushing my lips along his, the features of his face clearing up like the sea after a storm.

'This is it.' He flexed the rope between his fingers, feeling its coarse texture. Taking my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged.

'My surprise is a . . . rope?' I could't hide the sound of disappointment from my voice. 'Should I start playing the damsel now or? Oh. . . Please Sheriff, save me!' I mocked.

'Well yes, the rope is you're surprise.' He paused. 'Now, what makes you so sure I'll play the sheriff, huh?' He tightened the rope around me to emphasize. 'Perhaps I captured you.'

'Oh?' I was truly intrigued, but sighed an overly dramatic sigh, just cause I was hoping it'd get a rise out of him. 'C'mon now, cowboy. You can do better than that–thought I was your special girl.' I teased, eyeing his dark form through my lashes as I used his own words against him.

He nudged his nose against my cheek, his lips moving into a grin along my jaw. 'You are my special girl. . .' He confirmed, voice gravely as he pressed his hips against mine, letting me feel the hardness beneath his pants. '. . .and my special girl will be fucking pleadin' when this rope has served its purpose.' The lasso was thrown into serveral more circles around my upper body, wrapping me tighter as he imitated what he'd seen on set.

'That a threat?' I groaned, his stiffness rubbing against my mound. Creating friction so wonderful I found my hips automatically flexing against his. More. I needed more.

'A promise.' He fell back onto a couch. 'You'd better start ridin' before I put that big mouth of yours to better use.' He tugged on the lasso, helping me fall into position stradeling his lap.

I settled with a whimper, my core veiled by the thin fabric of my skirt as it made direct contact with his clothed member. But with the way I was bound, he'd restricted my arms further, they were unmovable infact. I couldn't support myself, couldn't unbutton his pants. 'Can't reach. . .' I whined, frustrated that I couldn't get his fucking dick out.

He hummed. 'Mmm, serves you right, dont it?' He pulled my skirt over my hips, and grasped the rope around my waist, making a point of not touching me as he pushed me downward and pulled forward, grinding my core against the coarse fabric of his pants. 'Now, ride.' He growled, the friction affecting him as much as me. For I had a simular reaction, if not worse.

The air was sucked right out of me, but I did as he ordered. Grinding my hips into his lap, over and over again, moaning curses left and right. But however much I tried I couldn't losen my restraints, couldn't get a grip on any part of him to work myself harder against him. I was stuck in a rut of superficial pleasure, with his occasional torturing tug. I just wanted to feel him, his touch, on me, in me. I didn't care, juat somewhere.

'Touch me.' I whispered, my head lulling against his shoulder as I desperatley tried increasing the friction.

He hummed, a breathy and guttural sound as he replied, 'Starvin' already?' He leaned closer, mouth hovering just above that sweet spot on my neck.

'Yes, yes.' I placed a kiss on his throat, grateful for what he was about to bestow me-

My button-down blouse was ripped open, buttons flying everywhere with a loud clatter as they hit the floor, the expensive prop ruined too quickly. 'Plead.' His rough knuckles brushed over the beginning of my breast, as they were now bare for him.

I gasped, 'What?' lust driven confusion clouding my mind. The stifling heat didn't help my mind to clear either.

'Plead, sweetheart.' He repeated, his murmur vibrating against my skin.

It was my turn to grin, my turn to drag my exposed teeth along his jugular, my lips closing around them as I kissed his jaw tenderly. 'I dont think so.' I purred, readying myself to stand up. 'Guess I'll have to find some other man the sate my needs.' I licked a stripe along his jaw before sitting back. 'My very, very. . . Slick needs.' And scootched back, leaving a wet inprint on the convex bulge of his jeans.

But before I could do anything too drastic, he grabbed my waist, he touched me, and pulled me back into a perch. A small victory for me, but the battle wast over yet. Now, our heads leveled with eachother. 'Don't you dare.' The jealousy was evident in his tone. 'Filthy little brat. . .' He hissed, 'I can play that game too, sweetheart.' He began unbuttoning his pants with the other hand, pulling his erect member out.

And drool dripped from my mouth as I got a good view of it, but he didn't lift me up and enter me, no. That would be too merciful. He simply pushed my undergarments to the side and pulled me closer, my slick cunt sliding over his length, wetting it as he let me feel the size of him, what I could get, but wasn't allowed. 'You aint to only woman in this cast.' His mouth trailed downward, lips following the valley between my breasts, the tip of his nose and chin collecting droplets of sweat along my skin.

His words stung, and even though I knew he only said them to rile me up, they worked. I didn't answer him, didn't deign to give him any words, but carefully began moving my hips instead, easing them into a slow rocking, and the few seconds I got were jaw dropping. I hoped he somehow just wouldn't notice, foolishly enough.

He hardened his grip, holding me steady, unmovable, as if he'd bound my lower body together aswell. 'Naughty fucking brat.' He leered.

Fuck, I just needed something, anything. The aching was building within me, unadultered want for pleasure. Pleasure which only he could give me.

'Fuck. Me.' It was an order, no sign of begging in my tone.

'Plead for me, woman.' He dragged the word out, chuckling. That ravenous grin on his lips he nipped at the soft flesh of my breast.

'Cocky bastard.' I scoffed, but yielded. 'Please. Fuck. Me.' But there was no weight behind them, the words fighting to stay in my mouth, coming out strained.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes searching my own as amusement filled them. 'C'mon now, you can do better than that.' He threw my words back at me.

But the desperation was seeping through my skin, into my quaking muscles and quivering bones. 'Please, please, please. . . Fuck me, Cooper. Oh, you big, famous movie star.' I whimpered. This time, meaning every word, although some in a more mocking fashion than others.

He faced me again, grinning as he shook his head in disbelief. 'Wicked fucking woman, I'll fuck some sense into you yet.'

'I dont think you have it in you, cowboy.' It took everything in me to keep my lips from curling into a smile-

Suddenly, I found my face pushed into the soft cushions of the couch. One hand pushed me down firmer by the neck, while the other lined himself up with my entrance. He stroked the tip through my folds, teasing me torturousley slow. The aching grew so strong I thought I'd break into a million pieces right then and there. 'Please. . .' I begged, the word half a whimper. '. . .please.' I had no self restraint left, no morals or standards to keep up. I just needed him, inside me. Now.

'About, damn time.' He pushed inside of me, wasting no time by setting grueling pace that had my body shaking. Muffled moans and whimpers escaped me, there was not a thought in my mind. No room for anything but him inside me. 'Yeah? You like that? Filthy girl. . .' He groaned, his hand colliding hard with my ass. The slap ringing out through the cabin, and it was glorious.

I nodded, or did the best I could while the force of his hold constricted my movements.

He hummed again, that low titillating hum. And leaned over me, bracing himself on the forearm that held my neck. His body laying flush over mine as his hips struck into mine, deeper, harder. His lips brushed against my ear, opening his mouth to whisper-

Raised voices, approaching, shouting outside the trailer. 'Better stay quiet now, sweetheart.' He breathed, and just then, out of spite, he struck into me harder, only to see if I could keep us secret. But I wanted to scream, needed to. So, I shoved my face into the cushion, muffling my crying out.

'Thats it. . . Good girl.' He praised, moaning the words against the shell of my ear. And as the voices approached, he slowed the thrusting, keeping the depth but dimming the strength. Softening the loud lewdness of our slapping bodies. His hand slid around my front, finding me clit with easy expertice. 'Good girl.' He breathed again, kissing my earlobe. As if it was my award for doing as I was told. 'Sticking my dick in you was all I had to do to fix that attitude of yours?' His fingers began rubbing circles over my clit, stimulating my already pulsating body further.

'Yes. . .' I whimpered, 'Yes, yes, yes.' And his hand moved to my throat, placing it between my jugular and jaw, tilting my face a sliver closer to his. 'Kiss me, please.' I pleaded, and he met my lips. His hungry, hungry lips surpassing the neediness my ownas be pushed his tongue into my mouth. He tasted heavenly.

The voices had passed since long, their drunk celebrating dissapearing beyond the lot. And his thrusts grew equally hungry once again, pushing into me, hitting my spot with reverance. The pressure was building, threatening to spill over the edge with every flick of his hips. 'Close. . .' I moaned into his mouth, my breath coating his lips.

'Yeah?' He moved his lips, kissing my cheek and down my throat.

'Yeah.' I shuddered, my whimpering indicating how close I was to release. The ramping, strained breaths between us almost sent me over the edge alone, white spots flecking my lids, lightning neighing in my nerves, the wall so close to collapsing-

And he pulled out, releasing my clit and pushed himself off of me.

No, no, no, Cooper please.' I whined, the pressure dissapearing, slowly seeping out into nothingness.

'There you go, sweetheart. Now you're pleadin' properly. . .' He basked in my despair, that smug grin of his adorning his face in all it's glory. He uncircled the rope, pulled me to his chestand twisted us, making us swap positions, with me once agains tradeling him as he laid on his back below me. 'Now ride me properly too.'

Oh I was, and I would get my revenge. I pulled my blouse and skirt off, I would have him pleading and squirming when I was done with him. 'That's more like it.' His eyes ravaged my body, staying longer on my nipples and hips, and cunt. 'Pretty little brat.' His tone so self-righteous it would've made me scoff, but I played along. Snaking my body against his, I wrapped my hands around his, finally able to touch him and pinned them both above his head. Then sat up and aligned myself with his length, slowly sinking down, greedily accepting every inch as he hissed. It dulled the pain he'd left me in, his member filling me up made me whole again.

But I wasn't done yet. Leaning in, I kissed him, distracted him, and carefully grabbed the discarded lasso. He would be pleading, he would.

And after a moment I sat back up, hands on his chest. Pushing him back down as he tried to follow me. Which is when he realised, that his arms wouldn't budge.

'Mmmh. . .' He chuckled, '. . .clever girl.'

I nodded, hands tracing down his sculpted abdomen. Transfering from his body to my own, I let them roam. Moving them along my hips, waist, stumache, breasts, throat. Just watching, enjoying every second of his growing displeasure, of his twitching and leaking inside me.

'Plead, cowboy.' I sqeezed my breasts, whimpering form the feeling. 'I'd much rather have you touching me.'

His lips drew into a thin line, hips bucking into me, slithering for any movement, any stimulation. 'It must be hurting.' I murmured, 'You can end it, just plead.'

His breaths were ragged, guttural and groaning. 'Cruel, cruel woman.'

'Now you're getting it.' I smirked. 'Plead. . .'

He scoffed, eyes hard as he opened his mouth, 'Please. . .' He mustered the word through clenched teeth.

Oh it felt amazing, the word as much as his member as I began moving along it, riding him. 'Fuck.' He grunted. 'When I get loose, girl-'

I laid my index finger against his lips, shushing him. Enjoying the sound of our wet squelching, his hard breaths and my own moans. I leaned down, my body rubbing against his while I kissed his chest and made my way along his collarbone.

'Why don't you give my lips some love too, girl.' He moaned, and I figured I could give him that at least. My lips met his jaw, bushed along his lips and then-

He grabbed me, locked his arms around my torso in a grip of steel, as he thrusted into me, rocking me violently into his arms.

'You really think I've never been tied up by a lover before?' He grunted, pushing his tongue into my mouth. And just like that, the pressure was rebuilt and released, washing over me in electric waves, shocking my body and nervous system.

'Easy girl, there you go.' He held me still, pecking me with kisses wherever he reached as he let my quivering body do what it needed, he himself coming moments later with a few last thrusts. And I collapsed on top of him, the strong rise and fall of his chest helping me calm my breathing.

'Wanna go again, movie star?' I asked.

'Which position, cowgirl?' He answered.

#cooper howard #cooper howard smut #fallout smut #fallout #fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard imagine #fallout imagine #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul imagine

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skzstannie · 8 months ago

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"My Soulmate"

SKZ -> Hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: slight angst, crack, vampire/soulmate AU wc: ~2,200 cw: none

summary: being kidnapped and brought to your vampire soulmate is something you never knew you needed... until now.

A/N: Hello again! Life's been crazy, and I've actually had this written since forever ago, so I decided to go ahead and edit and post it! Hope you enjoy :)

Alsoooo, I survived the Ticketmaster war and was able to snag some SKZ tickets to the Chicago show!!!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Please be careful. That area is so sketchy, especially at night. Infested with those dastardly vampires, I'll tell ya."

"Mom, I'm fine. The bus station is only a mile down the road, and I'm almost there," you speak into the phone.

Your mom gives a disappointed sigh from the other end. "Sweetie, I've heard so many stories of girls going missing on that street. I really wish you would've listened to me and taken a different way home."

"I've always taken this way home from work; why are you so worried about it now?" The more you speak with your mom, the more paranoid you become. All the shadows out of the corner of your eye appear as humans, lurking behind buildings and in alleyways.

"Because a girl was killed just last week walking around down there, not to mention she was by herself. Just like you!" she screeches over the line. You have to pull the phone away from your head to protect your poor eardrums. "It was a gang that took them! What was their name again? Stray dogs? Stray... Stay? I can't remember."

"It's Stray Kids, mom. I'm sure they're not even around these parts anymore now that the cops are looking for them."

Too focused on your surroundings rather than the ground beneath you, you trip and fall over a large lip in the sidewalk. Your body hits the ground, and you immediately clutch your knee. Your legs are littered with scrapes and scratches, but your knee in particular has blood dripping down it. Pieces of dirt cover your skin, unpleasantly sticking to your wound and the oozing blood.

You startle from the sudden cold breeze you feel over your shoulder. You turn abruptly, hissing when your leg rubs against the ground. Another gust of wind brushes past your front, and you're quick to twist around again. Your heartrate picks up at the eeriness of the situation, your hands turning clammy.

Suddenly, a being materializes in front of you. A scream catches in your throat when another appears next to him. Both are dressed in normal clothing, albeit entirely black in appearance, the only color emitting from the two beings in front of you coming from their pale skin. It's almost sparkling under the glow from the streetlights.

They stand and stare for a moment, and the silence is palpable. As you make eye contact with them, you take notice of their eye color- a deep, fiery red. You feel as though you’re in a hypnotic state as you continue to stare into their eyes. Your surroundings become blurred the longer you look, and you begin to feel dizzy as the world around you begins to spin.

You can faintly hear your mom screaming at you through your phone, calling out for you with panic in her voice, but you can't seem to look away from the boys in front of you.

The dizzier you feel, the calmer you become. It's a weird sensation, feeling all your anxiety and fear just slipping from you. The last thing you see is the muscular man in front of you approaching before you close your eyes from the exhaustion. It came out of nowhere, but it's all-consuming as all thoughts leave your head, and you're left their laying limp and vulnerable.

~ ~ ~

Your eyes feel heavy as you open them, and the bright lights are blinding as they invade your vision. Reaching up to rub your eyes, you quickly realize that your arms are tied behind your back. Becoming aware of your surroundings, you feel the cool plastic chair beneath you. Looking down, you see the zip ties around each of your ankles, anchoring you to the chair.

You appear to be tied up in a cell of some sort. Black, solid bars seal you off from the outside of the room. The cell is small, only about 8 ft by 8 ft if you had to guess. The floor is nothing special, just some concrete. While you can't see much from where your seated in the corner, the room around you seems empty and cold. A desk sits in the middle with a few stacks of paper on top.

Your eyes tear up at your predicament as the memories of the men dressed in all black come back to you. Question upon question spring into your head; where'd they come from? Where'd they bring you? What do they want from you?

Your worries seem to multiply by the second, and you are filled with dread as you consider the possibilities.

You know you must look amess as sweat starts to pool on your forehead, not only from the temperature of the room but also the imminent danger present upon you. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you desperately pull at the zip ties holding you hostage.

A door creaks open while in the middle of your struggle, and you freeze. Voices fill the open space, and your mouth runs dry at the thought of meeting your captor.

"I told you, we won't be getting our next shipment of blood for another couple weeks. You're just gonna have to hold off-" the voice cuts off as the man walks around the corner. He makes eye contact with you. He shares the same eye color as the men that took you, but you know from the facial features that this isn't the same one.

The man heaves a sigh, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've gotta call you back," he says before hanging up the phone. Without uttering another word, the man walks back out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.

It feels as if hours have gone by the next time you hear the door open. This time, cries of pain fill the silent void. You become alert at that, straightening up in your seat. Curiosity fills your gaze as you’re welcomed with the man from earlier, this time accompanied by two more.

The two men are being dragged by their ears, which appears uncomfortable if the sounds of pain are anything to go by.

The man from earlier releases them once they are standing right outside your cell.

"Explain yourselves," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Both men start talking over each other immediately, making it impossible to understand either one. "One at a time you pabos!" he interrupts them, creating an uncomfortable silence.

The buff one, which you now recall as one of the accomplices to your kidnapping, gestures roughly to the other man. Taking this as his cue to explain, he begins, "We swear she's the right one this time!" His words are rushed as he gestures towards you.

"You're kidding," the man in charge says, bringing his fingers to grasp at the bridge of his nose. "We've already been over this. You two can't keep kidnapping women from off the streets just because you believe them to be Hyunjin's soulmate."

Your heart races as your brought into the discussion. Soulmate?

You've heard of soulmates, but only ever in fiction, like books and movies. From what you've read, vampires are the only beings who can initiate the soulmate bond. Thereafter, the human can feel the bond, as well.

Suddenly, the pieces fall perfectly into place as you consider all the factors. Materializing out of nowhere, the red eyes, the hypnosis. These guys are vampires. How you didn't put it together sooner, you're not sure.

The bravery you're hit with is astounding, and you can't hold yourself back from interrupting the conversation. "Who are you guys and what do you want from me?" The man's rambling stops as all three look to you.

"Hi..." the man rambling starts, "I'm Jisung, and this is Lee Know and Changbin. We've brought you here because we believe you're our friend's soulmate."

"Please just let me go. I promise not to tell anyone about this!" you plead. You don't know what being the soulmate of a vampire entails, but you surely don't want to find out.

"Oh, we can never let you go," the man in charge, Lee Know, answers. "You've seen us, experienced our presence. You either have to stay with us, or... well, we kill you. You can thank these idiots for that," he gestures to Jisung and Changbin. Jisung brings his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly.

You let out a sob at the ultimatum. You don't want to stay here forever. You want to go home, shower, and complain to your mom about work. You want to call your best friend and talk to her about the cute guy that you saw. The thought of never being able to do those things again envelopes you with sorrow, and more prominently, fear.

"Please don't cry," Jisung says, his hands coming up around the bars of the cell. "We would never want Hyunjin's soulmate to be sad."

"Jisung, we don't even know if this is his soulmate," Changbin says, his gaze piercing the side of your face.

"I'll prove it to you," he says before running out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

"I swear, I will kill both of you if this isn't the right girl. You said that the time before this was the last, and I'm getting tired of hiding dead bodies," Lee Know tells Changbin.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you suddenly really hope you are this guy's soulmate. While this doesn't sound like the greatest of situations, at least if you live you'll get a chance to escape.

Changbin and Lee Know talk amongst themselves, and your anxiety starts to build once more.

~ ~ ~

It feels as if hours have gone by the time there's movement outside your cell again. Changbin and Lee Know, having gotten tired of standing, had taken a seat on the couch towards the back of the room, busying themselves on their phones.

You're still stuck in the same position. You've been wriggling your hands around, but you've realized there's no use in trying to escape. The two men would surely notice if the zip ties came undone, and even if they didn't, you're still stuck in this cell. You don't know what lies outside this room, but you're scared to find out.

You finally hear the door swing open, and you recognize Jisung's voice, this time accompanied by another stranger. The two come into view, and your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes meet the man Jisung brought with him.

He is easily the most beautiful man you've ever seen. His eyes meet yours, and you're immediately captivated, unable to look away. It's a strange feeling, but you suddenly feel all the worry and fear being washed from you, leaving you with a feeling of peace and serenity. It's almost like you've known this man for years, the way he brought you immediate comfort in this unfamiliar place.

"My soulmate," he whispers, and at this point you can only assume this is the 'Hyunjin' they were talking about.

In the blink of an eye, he materializes in front of you, now inside the cell. He quickly brings his hands towards you, and you feel no fear. The dread that once filled your body is no more as you allow him to carefully undo the zip ties from around your wrists and ankles.

Tears still slip down your cheeks, but the emotional pain you once felt is no more. You're overcome with unfamiliar emotions, and the tears don't stop.

You feel as if you recognize Hyunjin from your dreams. Always the hero, saving you from whatever dangers are out there for waiting for you.

Once the zip ties are off, you immediately rise to your feet and reach out to hold him. He embraces you even tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around your exhausted figure.

"This is such a strange feeling, but I feel at peace now," you whisper to him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"It's because we're together. The soulmate bond, I initiated it, and you've accepted it," he whispers back. "We can be together now."

"Have I seen you before?" you ask, taking a step back to admire his beautiful features.

"Maybe in your dreams. I've visited you there before. I've known what you looked like for a long time. That's how these guys found you," he says, gesturing behind him to Jisung and Changbin.

"Yea, and it only took us two tries! Do you know how vague of a description I had to go off of?" Jisung complains.

"Because I didn't expect you to go out and try to find her!" Hyunjin exclaims, exasperated.

"Well, I figured since your birthday was coming up, I could do something nice for you. And it only costed us one casualty!"

"Which I'm still dealing with, by the way," Lee Know says.

"Yea, yea. I just had a gut feeling about it this time."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz angst #skz crack #vampire au #soulmate au

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 9 months ago

Text

Kinktober Post

Yandere Vampire x Princess in a tower

Pt. 2

Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/cherie47467

TW: Mind control, drugging, blood, dubcon

In a dark tower in the woods, is a girl in a white nightgown. Her hands are bound by chains attached to a wall, and her neck is the same. From the looks of the room, she had been there for ages. Her face is thin, and her hair is as stringy as straw. She has waited for her hero to come, but it seems she may die before it happens. That girl was you. A princess who got put into a tower as a sick way to kill you so he can marry another. You wish your life was like one of those fairytales, but that seems impossible.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" A voice yells, walking up the steps.

You try to make noise come out of your throat, but it's no use. You shake your arms a bit, rattling your chains. Your savior comes into your room, his eyes full of pity. He's the most beautiful man you've seen alive. His hair is long and black, his brown skin is as clear as glass, and his chiseled chest can't even be contained by his white v-neck blouse. Every part of his body is a work of art—especially those enchanting purple eyes of his.

"Oh, you poor darling. I'll get these chains off of you," The man says, breaking your chains with his bare hands. "Can you get up?"

You shake your head no, and he picks you up.

"Don't worry, I'll bring you to the carriage," He says, carrying your body out of the tower and to the outside world.

The sun blinds you, hurting your eyes as sunlight enters your eyes for the first time in a few months. You bury your head in your savior's shirt, trying to block out the light.

"Aw, darling, I had no idea you liked me so much," He chuckles, putting you in the carriage, drawing the curtains on the windows, and shutting the door. "Now that it's darker, why don't we start with an introduction? My name is Roman Beaudelaire, and I am one of the many dukes of this kingdom. I know your throat is too weak to speak, so I shall not force you to say anything."

You sigh and put your head on the sides of the carriage. Your body has never felt more tired.

"Once you're at my estate, you'll be taken care of. Now, rest. You need it," Roman says, his eyes looking more beautiful by the second.

You fall asleep, and when you wake up, you're in a bed with silky red and black sheets. Your old nightgown is gone, and you're wearing a new one that's pastel pink with bows on the sleeves. Its material is soft and makes you never want to take it off.

"Lunch, my darling?" Roman inquires, bringing in a plate of the finest foods to eat. "I brought some of the smaller crabs from the port, fruits, and some herbal tea. I hope you like it."

You touch a crab on the plate, feeling the texture of its body. It's been so long since you've seen the outside world, you've forgotten what some things are and look like. Roman chuckles, sitting on the bed, grabbing a crab from your plate, and cracks a leg for you. The meat looks so delicious and red you want to gulp it down immediately. You grab his hand, scarfing down the piece of crab meat.

"No need to rush, darling. I won't take the food from you. But please be sure to drink your tea. It'll help you feel better," Roman says, enjoying your reaction to the food.

You drink some of the tea, and your body instantly feels better. Your vocal cords feel like they're coated in honey, ready to speak forever.

"Woah, it really did help me feel better," You say, surprised you heard your own voice.

"I'll come back later to collect your dishes," Roman responds, kissing your cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~

For the past few days, you've been eating Roman's food and tea, and eventually, you've gained the strength to explore his estate. You've wandered through the gardens and walked through the library, touching every soft and dusty book. You've even managed to accidentally discover Roman's bedroom when you were exploring the hidden passageways. Admittedly, he escorted you out, before you could question the lack of light in his room, but you'll just ask him about it later when he visits for his nightly chat with you. Hours pass by while you wait in your bed for Roman. Eventually, the clock strikes twelve, and you fall asleep thinking you'll wake up with him on the other side of the mattress.

But you're sleep doesn't last long, as you hear a heavy creak above you. You open your eyes and find a pale creature with long fangs in Roman's clothes holding onto the ceiling. You make eye contact and scream, getting out of bed. You run for the door, but the creature appears before you.

"Please don't hurt me," You beg, back up to the bed.

"Don't you think you should pay me back for nursing you back to health from your disastrous condition? I put my own blood in the tea so your body could heal faster," Roman says, pushing you onto the bed. "Admittedly, the gradual blood loss made me look like a pale corpse, but it's all worth it. I get to have my own princess and soulmate to myself."

"How do you want me to pay you back?" You ask, watching Roman's finger go down your cheek.

"I want you. I want your body and blood," Roman answers, his dry lips kissing your neck. "Whichever one comes first is up to you."

"Blood."

Roman looks at you with his purple eyes, and you feel weak and aroused.

"That's it, relax and let your savior pleasure you," Roman says, slipping your night dress down.

He kisses your shoulder, then penetrates it with his teeth. You moan a little, and Roman plays with your breast. As he sucks the blood out, his dick begins to rise.

"Darling, can you do me a favor and unbuckle my pants?" He asks, chuckling at your horny state.

You do as he says, undressing his lower half and revealing his unnaturally veiny cock. By the time he's done feeding from you, he's returned to his youthful state, ready to get the second part of his deal. He pulls down the rest of your nightgown, letting it fall to the floor, your pussy clothed by white panties. He lays you on your pillow, lining his head with your entrance. He bites your inner thigh, making you moan like crazy.

"That's it, darling. You like having your skin bitten," Roman coos, looking at your damp underwear. "You look ready, do you think so, darling?"

When he looks up at you, your hand is in your panties, getting off to him biting you to the point you don't even notice he stopped.

"Ah, ah, naughty girl. I'm supposed to be the one giving you pleasure," Roman scolds, pulling the hand out of your underwear.

You whine for more pleasure, and he sticks his hand into your panties. He rubs his middle finger against your clit, making you spread your legs.

"Oh, you're ready, darling," Roman teases, rubbing his hand faster so you cum.

He uses his sharp nails to shred your underwear, and you lift your legs up to your head for him. Roman lines his cock with your entrance and doesn't wait to start slamming the entire thing inside. You scream with delight, gripping your legs. His rhythm is fast and steady as if he's been waiting for you for centuries. He holds your waist, his nails pressing into your skin and drawing blood.

"Ah, please! Make me cum again!" You beg, tears in your eyes, feeling the pleasure high build again.

Roman's pace gets faster, and he leans down to your neck. He bites your neck, pushing venom out of his fangs and into your bloodstream. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you cum all over Roman's dick. In an unexpected move of pleasure, you bite Roman's shoulder, and he shivers in ecstasy. His cock shoots ropes of semen into you, coating your walls white.

"Didn't know you could bite that hard?" Roman teases, licking the blood off your neck puncture holes. "Once the venom is throughout your body we'll have days like this forever."

Your eyes focus on Roman, and you see those purple eyes that enchanted you at first sight. You hug his body, snuggling your head on his shoulders.

"That's right, darling. Relax, I'll be taking care of you. No need to explore beyond my estate's walls," He says, rubbing your head. "You only need to focus on me and how we'll be making some changes to your kingdom."

He kisses you, his tongue exploring your teeth and feeling your canines become fangs. He pulls out of you, cum spilling out of your hole, and pulls the bedsheets on you. He lies next to you on the bed, opening his arms so you can snuggle with him. You gladly move into his arms, and enjoy the feeling of his sweaty skin. You place your hands on his massive pecks, and he laughs.

"And you say I like your boobs," He laughs, his free hand going to your ass. "But, I must say I like this better."

He gladly fondles and gropes your body as you drift off to sleep in pleasure.

#sanyuthewitch05 #yandere teratophilia #yandere vampire #vampire smut #yandere male #yandere smut #yandere dubcon #kinktober

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siri-ike · 7 months ago

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Empty, chapter 3

A dp x dc crossover fic

P.S. if you notice a spelling errors in any of my posts, please let me know so i can fix them.

Chapter 1 chapter 2

It's hard to tell how long they were sliding for. It felt like ages, yet only a moment. It felt like they had become friends, though they had never spoken. He didn't even know what her life had been like, why she had run away or why she chose this day. He only knew that he wanted to help her. And if that meant leaving all that conflict behind, so be it. He can find more elsewhere.

Eventually, they stopped at a far away park. The sun had gotten low enough that no matter where you looked, you had a 50% chance of being blinded. He made sure to drop her in a patch of grass so as not to hurt her. She was quick to get up and run into the park. Didn't even question the ice. He supposed he could leave her to her plans, but it's not like he had any of his own. So he followed.

All the way to the other side of the park where an officer picked her up like a wet cat. She kicked and scratched, but her limbs simply weren't long enough.

"Out late, are we? Do your parents know where you are, Maggie?" He asked, not putting her down.

Maggie? Oh, right, that other guy called her Margaret before. They must know each other.

"Let's take a look in that bag, shall we?" He took the bag and dropped her to the ground.

"NO! NO! It's mine! You can't have it!" She screamed desperately, trying to reach it. And that's enough. He swooped towards the cop and then through him. Leaving him half frozen, holding her bag. Now that he was still, she could jump up and grab it.

The sun was setting by the time she stopped running. They were at a train station underground. Light barely made it in to outline every surface with an orange glow.

The girls shadow got fainter the deeper into the tunnels they went. And it almost looked as though he had one of his own.

She stopped at a rusty old train cart. She had to put her bag down in order to force the door open. The inside looked like a museum. Everything had been taken out to make room for plastic cases full of jewelry like broaches, necklaces, and earrings, but also things like cutlery, candle holders, shiny wrapping paper. Most of the stuff here looks worthless.

Oh, no.

He was helping a thief. Worse than that, he was helping a kleptomaniac. Was that officer trying to help? Did she steal from the guy who was yelling before? Stupid. How could he be so stupid?!

Klank!

He looked down to the source of the sound. A menorah had fallen to the ground. The sound echoed through the train car and down both tunnels. Who steals a menorah? Sam would be furious.

A better question is: who is Sam?

His gaze wanders back to the girl, surprised to see she's looking at him too.

She just stares at him. Not directly. More so at his torso area. He tries moving over but her eyes follow, sort of. He looks behind him, and there it is.

His shadow. It looks human. Like if a person were just floating in the air. But, that can't be. He's not-

"you're not real." Her voice is much smaller this time. "you're just a filament of my imagination" She insisted, unconvincingly.

"Ok, even I know it's figment, and I'm one of the dumbest people I know." He floats lower. "But, you're right. I'm not real." He sits down on the cold metal train floor. "I might have been once. A long time ago. Sometimes I can see people, in my mind. they're blurry. But they're always the same ones." He lets out a breath of cold air. "A boy with glasses and a girl wearing all black. Those two are usually together when I picture them. Then there's a taller girl with red hair, she feels so warm even though I can't touch her. Then there's a man and a woman, he's big and square and she smells like oil, all the time." He brings his knee to his chest. "I'm not sure if they were real either. Maybe I just made them up." He curls up, trying to hide what would be tears if he could produce them. "Sometimes I, I-" he pauses to gather the courage to confess.

"I hope I made them up."

For a moment, he sits there. Letting the guilt consume him. But after a while with no response. He looks up.

The whole train car is frozen. Icicles have grown from the ceiling the display cases are incased in layers upon layers of ice.

And an 8 year old girl stands in front of him. With a look of horror, permanently carved on her face.

Chapter 4

#dp x dc empty #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #gotham #magpie #fanfiction

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slightlypossessed · 1 year ago

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Synopsis – Steve let's someone take care of him, for once in his fucking life

Who? – Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

18+ content – MDNI // handjob, thigh riding, marking and kissing.

4.05k – 17 mins

words are lost on him

it's not that there are none coming to mind — they are, they're just not sticking: light flash-bangs that don't last enough to know if he's really seen or imagined them.

the words are too quick for him to grasp onto, nerve endings fried as they spark alight with every stroke of your hand.

The movements you so torturously inflict on him are gentle, yet cruel. ministrations calculated and precise to ensure the most damage to his mind and fragile, vulnerable, state as he lies bare beneath you.

Body bare and soul rested on a silver platter for you, laid prettily at your feat for you to take as much as your heart, and lust, desire.

"Baby..." his whisper is husky, voice wrecked and all scratching-on-metal as he tries not, but fails, to beg.

Cognitive dissonance is a killer thing, Steve decides as you give a particular rough tug to his straining cock, more so than he's realised now that he's in the deep cusps of it. On one hand he's trying to hold himself together, trying to be man — in his mind, he's made to please, to be a caretaker — it's why he puts up with the bloody kids that he knows will make his hair go gret by the time he's 32, it's why he's there after every argument max has with her father, every time dustin feels lonely, every time Lucas has a falling out with the rest of the boys — always there, an invisible hand on the back, guiding, cautious, caring.

And it's why it's typically the other way around with you two than it is now. Steve's gotten comfortable with the unintentional routine: you beneath him, mouth and sex hot as you beg and scratch while he wrecks you piece by piece. He's your boyfriend, he's yours, and it's his job to please you. He's gotta care for you, for your pleasure — because he's your man, and because he goddamn wants to.

But as his darned luck would have it, your hands feel too good on his cock for him to push you away: far too gentle to push him over, but determined to press all the delicate parts of him, your fingers deft and rubbing down the areas you know to be sensitive — just enough times with every stroke to keep him constantly on edge.

He's lost time, how long it's been: maybe five minutes? ten? fifteen? maybe just the one? a torturously slow minute of pure ecstatic and exhilirating agony? He's doesn't know, all he knows is that he's at your mercy to grant him what he most needs.

And right now he needs more of what you're giving, just – god, please, more – enough to quiet the voice in his head telling him he's failing... something. Your pleasure? His supposed boyfriend duty? he doesn't know, but he wants it quiet — you've already told him you want to take care of him.

However long it was ago, his brain is half-mush and he can't quite remember, you took in your arms mid make out session and told him you wanted him, your tone different than every other time you've said those words, your hold on him more tender and enveloping.

"let me take care of you," you'd whispered against his lips, your hands on his chest and steadily caressing lower, "please."

He couldn't say no to you then, can't say no to you ever — his sweet girl, whatever you want, you'd get — and he's decided then that he'll be most compliant for you, he'll relent underneath you as you take care of him, in whatever way you'd wished to do that.

and fuck, he wasn't prepared – doesn't think his brain has relaxed ever since you pushed him against the headboard and straddled his legs and fucking told him to just relax.

How can he? when the prettiest girl he's ever seen is on top of him looking so pretty with earnest eyes tracking every emotion and expression that passes over his face. You're so keen, attention completely tuned in on him.

Nerves firing blast rapidly, blinding white light behind his eyes, whether his eyes are closed or not.

He's not even sure anymore if they're open or closed, there's just glimpses of you, and he's not even sure if his short-circuiting brain is catching up a moment late, doesn't know if by the time he's caught to the beautiful sight of you as you stoke more heat in his belly, he might've already drifted in another mini ecstasy and closed his eyes again.

Fuck, he needs more — he's not sure he can handle it — so much going on in his brain, so much pleasure emitting from your soft hands on his hard cock, but he needs more. Maybe it'll quiet his mind, maybe it'll ramp up the frequency to a million, maybe he'll completely lose it and go insane by your hands — but he craves what you give.

"Please," his voice is foreign to his own ears, broken and pleading. If he were to really think about it, you haven't even done that much to warrant his half-wrecked state. But he's there, and he seems relenting to the idea of you completely breaking him.

Maybe the idea of you taking care of him has done more to him than he thought it would.

A low moan escapes his throat as his hand previously gripping the sheet moves to anchor itself to your hips.

"Fuck," another broken sound, "please, honey, more." He isn't sure more what, faster? harder? both? he just needs your hands on him and to forget all his thoughts before he even has them.

"shh," you soothe as your hand tightens around the tip of him– and by god, you're evil, a wicked little thing— you know he's most sensitive there, and if you'd had any doubts about that, they were now for sure quelled by the debauched moan that escapes his throat. "I've got you, sweetheart, just relax for me."

But he can't relax, oh god, what are you doing to him?

Evil, he's decided.

Heavenly, his heart argues, as you lean down to give him a saccharine kiss on his parted lips, your tongue swirling with his.

Deep down, you're aware that your torturous and slow pace over the last few minutes has built him yet kept him consistently at bay, kept him all achy and squirmy underneath you – all because of you, for you.

He whimpers quietly, the sound low and vulnerable against your lips, and you pull back to hear his sweet sounds better – and immediately he gifts you another desperate sound as he chases your lips.

Usually, hand jobs are quick business in your relationship. Quick things done in foreplay before Steve's putting his tongue on you and making you cum a few times as he gets hard again to fuck you – sometimes he's even pushing your hand off him before he cums, choosing to sink himself deep inside you instead.

But it's been on your mind for a while now, this urge to just take care of him. You're brain constantly wandering to how he'd look like, sound like, if lets himself loose and handed over the reigns of his pleasure to you. He's stretching himself too thin everyday — acting as a brother, a father and a friend to a group of 15-year-old kids united by other-worldly trauma. He's the perfect boyfriend 24/7, small gifts every now and then, dates every week, fucking you silly almost every night – and on top, he's got a full-time nine-to-five.

You want to do something for him, get his mind of off everything for a while. And maybe this opens the door for more later – it's not that Steve doesn't let you take charge often, but even then he's still very much a giver rather than a taker, and this time you want him to just take and be as selfish with you as he'd wish to for once.

And so you stroke him faster in your hand again, your grip tighter this time.

A low groan sounds from his throat when your hand squeezes him at the base. Electric shocks from the centre of him to his brain.

You can't deny him what you want, can't ignore his pleas for more pleasure, not when he's so pretty underneath you, face red and flush, and his hair a mess all over a place with a few strands down his forehead.

Beautiful, in every sense. Debauched facial expression: eyes heavy-lidded and mouth agape, heavy pants in and out.

So pretty, and so you really can't even think to deny him what he aches for. Your hand moves faster without meaning to, just wanting to see more of him in this state. He rewards you with another groan, his hand tightening on your waist.

faster and faster, the sudden change of pace makes his back arch of the headboard bringing his chest closer to yours and he can feel your hardened nipples from beneath your thin shirt. The feel of it makes him shudder and he feels the need to be closer to you.

He can't think to even lift hands to take the shirt you're wearing of you, feel you closer to his skin, his heart – but he can lean his face up towards you and hope you understand his polite request.

And you do, instantly, because you were already halfway down to laying another kiss on his soft, pink lips.

Your lips meet his, gentle and tender as you feel his soft lips between your own. Your hand moves even quicker now, your thumb pressing down on the on spot you know makes him keen — and his reaction is instant. His mouth opens mid-kiss as he moans unabashedly against your lips as you continue to press over that one spot over and over again.

He's going to go insane, by god, you're going to drive him to the crazy house, because the things you're doing to him are effectively frying his brain.

You leave his mouth, and choose to kiss his exposed neck instead.

He's welcoming of it; without meaning to, he tilts his head to give you more access to suck and bite all kinds of marks along his neck – and he'd wear them with pride, let everyone now how good his girl takes care of him, how good she makes him feel. Fuck, he just wants you all around him, your soft lips on his neck and hands on his cock. He can feel your thighs against his, your calves rubbing against his knees – with every brush of your skin against his the fire in his belly grows warmer, moving from his core and spreading to his chest, his head, his limbs – rendering him tingly all over and loose beneath you.

Your hand move down as you caress his balls in slow circles as your other hand moves to continue stroking his cock.

And Steve keens, whimpers uncontrolled rolling out of his lips. And you time your hand encircling and tightening against his taut balls as you bite down on his neck, your lips suck on the tender flesh of his neck, suck and bite on a tender point on his neck.

And Steve? fuck

Steve's mind goes blank.

No thoughts, no words, nothing.

Just pleasure.

White, hot, blinding pleasure.

He feels it deep within him, a feeling like hot, melted honey so visceral it moves along from his center to spread all over him in intense waves.

In a haze, he's aware his thighs have begun to shake, his sartorius muscle clenching and rippling underneath his skin as the feeling begs to claw out of bones and release.

He's keening, hot moans and whimpers flowing through his lips in a steady flow. You can feel the sounds before you hear them, your lips still pressed to the length of throat.

Both of his arms are now gripping your hips hard, urging you closer to him. He wants– no, needs you closer. There's some part kf him that feels like he can't handle anything else, that if you were to repeat the same movements you've just done, of you were to press down on that spot along his tip, he might just go insane. Maybe lose all cognitive ability as your constant infliction of pleasure fries his nerve endings.

But these thoughts don't last, nerves frayed and through barely able to keep grip as your hands continue to jerk him quick8and quicker, unaware of how intensely you've just wrecked him.

— it's quiet and yet he can't think.

"Please," a voice he doesn't even register as his own, "please, baby, I lov- fuck, love you —oh – fuck, oh, honey–"

He's not sure what words he's saying, not even sure if he's speaking or thinking them, but the desired effect comes anyway.

The precum on your fingers help keep your movements quick, and you continue to move your fingers up and down as your other hand massages his balls.

On one particularly hard jerk, his legs twitchs beneath you, resulting in his thigh rubbing hard against your center, brushing your clit the way you've been abstaining of doing for the past god knows how long now.

shit, you might just come from this slight touch. You hadn't even realised how hot and wet you've become over the duration of pleasuring your boyfriend.

He's always been so hot to you (to everyone really, if his reputation so implies), and one look from him would've been enough to have your underwear ruined.

But, god, he's given more than just a look. He's given you his pleasure, his bare form against yours – he's given you his moans and mewls, his vulnerability. He's given you full control over his body and his pleasure – hadn't even tried once to flip you over and switch roles (not that he'd even be able to with how week in the knees you've rendered him)

So, how can you not be all hot and bothered by this? by the lascivious site of him beneath you as he desperate and weak cries fill the room around you?

Without meaning to, your hips rock against his thighs, moving in tandem with the rhythm you've set with your hand against his cock.

The feel of your dripping centre against him weakens him further, his eyes closed and head burying in the pillow. To know that his pleasure affects you that much makes his cock twitch in your fingers, makes his heart swell with an affection that is so foreign to him.

He's felt it before with you, with his tongue on your center and fingers buried deep – he's cum many times as he ate you out, unable to control himself from letting go as your pretty sounds spurred him on.

But it feels weird for the script to flip, for his immense pleasure be reason for your own, even as you remain untouched above him.

Your lips move from one spot on his neck to the other, biting and sucking as you go, feeling the vibrations of his throat down to even your core as you steadily grind yourself back and forth along the thick expanse of his muscular thighs – feeling every bulge of his muscles, every twitch of his form against the folds of your pussy, the curve of your clitoris.

His voice gruff and broken as he whimpers for you.

And despite the oath you took to only focus on him tonight, you can't stop your hips from moving even faster, motivated by lewd noise he makes.

You are human after all, and the intimacy of the atmosphere around you can't be ignored. The sight of his heaving chest gone red from blush of pleasure tempts you to feel him against your skin – to feel more of him as you make him (and yourself) cum.

You can feel it now, the shift in the atmosphere as your fingers keep moving and your hips keep rocking – it's all coming to a crescendo.

Maybe when your done milking him till you're both reasonably satisfied, you'll kiss him stupid as he recovers and then ride him till he's coming inside of you — maybe he'll sound even prettier then, cock deep in your cunt as you bounce up and down the length of him. You'll kiss his pretty neck all over then, too, feel the whimpers as they form his throat and kiss his lips as he moans for you.

or maybe you'll let yourself go now, core molten against his thighs as he cums for you spurt after spurt.

You can already feel yourself growing weak and weightless with euphoria, filled with a fever-like weakness that pulls you lower and lower to the throes of passion.

Before you can register your movements, you're pulling your hands away from Steve and ripping his shirt that still on your body off you.

The moment of reprieve, or perhaps frustration, shocks Steve, and he mewls against your throat for more.

"so close, bab– oh god–" his pleas are cut short as your hands resume their earlier position, moving faster and harsher now, more determined to get him to his high before you lose it yourself.

Your thumb drags over his slit and down to his pleasure points, up and down gripping the base. Up and down and a squeeze to his balls. Faster, gentler, more – Steve can't think, can't hold it together anymore. It's too much, please, oh please– too much yet he needs more, needs that final push to euphoria. Needs it, fuck– wants it and can't take anymore.

You lean down to kiss him on the lips again, and your nipples bush against his chest – the feeling making you both keen against each other. The soft curve of your breasts rubs against the peaks of nipples. Each rock of your hips against his thigh moving your body against him, electrifying touches all over his body and your chest rubs against his.

You bite his lips as you kiss, taking his plush bottom lip between your own and awarding it a slight tug, before letting go and soothing his tender lips with your lips.

You pull back a moment to admire your handiwork. His lips are red and kiss-bruised. His eyes are heavy lidded and you can see the dreamy and half-present look in the crescents of his eyes. He pants against your lips and tilts his head upward to kiss your lips and intertwine your tongue with his own. You watch his eyes fully close before your own do and you kiss him back.

And it appears that Steve's torture has gotten the best of him, because beneath you his chest hitches as his back begins to arch the way it always does before he cums. The sounds escaping his throat and vibrating against your lips are sporadic and disjointed. He's less kissing you now, more letting you kiss and suck at his parted lips.

His muscle tense and twitch against you, and you know all you need to do is just give him a little more, an extra nudge, and he'll topple over.

Your thumb presses against his slit as you jerk him, and your other hand massages and circles his balls just a tad bit harder.

And Steve feels himself fall.

He's not sure if the sounds he hears are his own or yours — pitches and tones melting into one, sounds coming in and out of focus as his eyes roll back and his body breaks out into tremors.

The feeling is intense, hot and burning and too much, spreading from his cock to his guts to his chest and head.

Steve shakes beneath you, body vibrating as shot after shot of hot cum fills your fist and releases over your hands and onto the sheets.

His abdominal muscles twitch as you milk him for all he's worth, your hands continuing to move as he experiences his high. Your hips rock harder and harder against his thighs, clit brushing faster as your wetness soaks his thighs.

You only slow your hand when Steve begins to thrash beneath you, his silent scream turning to aching cries.

"Steve," you moan against his lips as you rock harder, electricity filling you as your head begins to buzz and your eyes roll.

"Fuck," his whisper is quiet and rough with use, "cum for me, baby, come on," his hands, despite weak with euphoria, grip your hips with all his might to help rock your hips faster against him. "cum, honey. I love you– come on."

Steve, despite barely able to even blink his eyes open or keep his head straight, moves a hand to the back of your head to bring you closer, granting you the same intimacy you'd given him for his own orgasm.

He pulls your face to his lips, biting your plush lips in the same manner you did to his lips moments prior.

Despite the fact that Steve's brain is so euphoria-riddled that everything he experiences feels as if through a haze, he's completely and acutely in tune to your pleasure – to the hitch in your throat as your whimpers grow breathier, to the jerk of your hips against him, to how you seem to burrow yourself closer to him as you approach your own high.

Desperate and nerves frazzled to meet your own high, your hand moves to your own centre.

You bow your back as you begin to circle your clit, using Steve's sticky cum to intensify the feeling.

As your hand moves, Steve pulls back from kissing your neck, tilting his head to watch you make yourself cum with his own spend.

"oh, steve– I love you, fuck, baby–gonna cum fo'you," your words are just ramblings, breathless and desperate as you near your high.

A whimper releases from his throat as he watches your fingers circle your clit – one, two, three tugs before your body tips forward, tremors and twitches racking through your body. Your front presses against your boyfriend's chest as soft, gentle pressure fills your core and your body, leaving you weightless and pliant in the aftermath.

Those gentle waves of euphoria render you speechless against Steve, your limbs are jelly as you melt against your lover.

If Steve wasn't so spent, if his head wasn't already far too high in the clouds of venus, he might've gotten hard all over again and fucked the mix of yours and his cum deeper into your cunt.

But that'll wait, maybe a few minutes, or an hour – maybe...

His eyes are already closing.

Bone-deep euphoria induced exhaustion pulls him deep into a restful slumber.

He'll clean you both up later. You know he'll repay the pleasure you've given him with a hundred acts of care and praise. But for now you'll let him pull you down again him, let him bask in the intoxicating feeling of intimacy that comes after your love making. He settles you close, his hips against your own as you lay over like a weighted blanket.

A soft, comforting, supple blanket.

His hands fumble next to him as he reaches for the tissue box on his bedside and hands you one to wipe your fingers, eyes still closed. The rest of you can be cleaned...later, in the shower, or with his tongue; he'll decide later.

Right now, he just needs you against him.

As a final act of love before he's out, his hand moves to the back of your head and kisses your lips one last time, slow and tender, and another against each eyelid, before coming back again to your lips.

"Steve..." you break the kiss to whisper against his lips, "you gotta let me take care of you often." your words barely even a slur. Despite your love-drunk state and sensitivity, you already know that you want a repeat of this night; of the gratifying feeling as you give your lover pleasure.

Before you can respond to his weak chuckle, you're both out like light, his arms wrapped tight against you as yours rest around his neck, keeping him close to you as you bask in the post-euphoria quiet intimacy.

Like it? >> Give this a go

A/N – wasn't really sure how to end this. It's been almost two years since I've written anything at all so it feels great to get back into it. Feel like I've forgotten how to describe things??? but oh well Feedback is always wanted and appreciated

Requests are open <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #fluff #love #smut #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst

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hoejosatoru · 1 year ago

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HIHI !! i saw you were looking for smut winbre requests and i decided to slide mine through 👀👀 what abouttttt, i don’t know if you’ve seen bridgerton, there’s this scene where a guy takes his girl infront of a mirror and explains how much he loves her by describing her body and how it drives him crazy 😮‍💨 it’s more of an erotic view, so i’d like to request something along those lines with Umemiya please!!! it’d make my day if you decided to write for it 🤍 thank you so much in advance!!! ✨

Wait I love this. I have never seen brudgerton (need to though!) but this is perfect for Umemiya. Suggestive/NSWFish under the cut

"Can we keep the lights off?" you asked your boyfriend. He was hovering over you, shirtless and as perfect looking as ever.

Umemiya's brows furrowed. "Why, my love? Wanna see you."

A blush crept up your cheeks. You were embarrassed about feeling self conscious and having to admit it to Umemiya, who could have been sculpted by a god for all you knew. "I just... I don't think I look that good."

Umemiya was incredulous. "Baby you're beautiful. And I'm gonna prove it." Before your could respond. Umemiya tugged you up and stood you in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Your back was flushed against his front, his eyes raking over your form in the mirror. You wanted to turn away, but he kept you there with a gentle, but firm grip. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

You shook your head, catching his eye in the mirror. The way he looked at you caused your insides to pool. You were equally turned on and enamored. His touch was reverent, making his words so believable even when that mean little voice in your head tried to deny it.

Umemiya's hands trailed up your thighs. "These thighs, so soft and warm. Love when you have 'em wrapped around head." He spoke close to your ear, making you shiver. He squeezed your butt and you instinctively ground back against him. "And your ass? Love how you're always teasing me with it. Yeah, just like that. You feel what you're doing to me, don't you angel?"

"Ume," you gasped, feeling his hard on press against you. Your self consciousness was slowly starting to melt into blind desire.

He pulled your shirt off you, squeezing your tits. "Your tits are just perfect. Drives me crazy when you don’t wear a bra, just wanna bury my face in them. And you'd like that? They're so sensitive aren't they baby?" He punctuated his state by squeezing your nipples and making you gasp. He smirked. "Thought so."

He buried his face into your neck, lightly sucking on the skin. "Don't get me started on how good you smell. Could eat you up. Love when you've been in my sheets and all I smell is you." He continued to kiss at you, toying gently with your tits. Your knees felt weak, but Umemiya kept you firmly upright.

One hand snaked down to your pussy, the only thing still covered by underwear. "And nothing in the world I want more than this," he cooed, tracing circles over your aching clit. "Nothing feels better than having you wrapped around me, squeezing me. You look so fucking beautiful on my cock angel."

"Please, Ume, want that," you whimpered, forgetting all about what you were worried about in the first place.

Umemiya smiled, turning your around so he could look you straight in the eye. "And my beautiful girl will get it."

#hopefully I did this justice #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya smut #umemiya x reader #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader

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bgyuus · 1 year ago

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— 🌱₊ ⊹⟡ singer reader × aventurine (modern au!)

⋆⑅˚₊ topaz as your wingman, sets you up on a blind date with him >< ⋆⑅˚₊

broooo i haven't wrote anything FOR YEARS am i... making a comeback??? anyways, it's short bc it's currently 2 am at my place but i had the urge to write so yurhh, also the band/singer idea came from the anime nana bc they're currently my hyper fixation.

the blonde male sits in his usual spot at the corner of the hall, stirring his drink in his hand as his eyes are glued to the stage, waiting for a certain someone that his coworker, topaz, wouldn't stop talking about.

"oh you'll definitely like her, aventurine! she's the sweetest!"

those words from topaz rang in his ears as he scoffs, taking a sip of his drink.

the lights dimmed down and the velvet curtains rises, revealing the singer and her other band members behind her. her white dress flows all the way down to her feet, making her shine under the bright spotlight of the stage.

"good evening, we're (band name)."

she says into the mic, her voice was soft yet there was a slight crack to it which made aventurine curious as he keeps a close eye at her and her band mates. there were two whom act as bassists and the other handled the drums. the intro of the song starts to echo through the hall as she starts to sing.

after the final song, the velvet curtains went over them, signalling the show was over. aventurine immediately gets up from his seat, walking over to the backstage as topaz had given him her usually pass.

"are you y/n?"

the girl turned her head, flashing her signature smile at him. "i'm assuming you're aventurine? topaz told me to expect you this evening." she gets up from the dressing table and grabs her purse, linking arms with him. the other band members raised their eyebrow at this but dismissed it as they were used to her "friendly" personality.

the two quickly left the small hall as they made small talk between each other, which to aventurine's surprise, she was really easy to talk to. they went out for supper together at a nearby cafe, still continuing their conversation. after being told by the waiter that they were closing, the pair quickly made their way out as aventurine walks her home back to her place.

"topaz was right, you really are a ladies man."

she teases, chuckling softly as they stop in front of her apartment door. the man only laughs, taking her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

"i've been told, but i would like to be yours instead. See you at your next show."

he said it so casually as if it didn't made her surprised at all. before she could reconfirm what he said, he had already walk away. maybe something will eventually spark between them? she stifles a small chuckle, having topaz, or a best friend in general, as your matchmaker is not so bad after all.

#aventurine's wife #hsr x y/n #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x y/n

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earlysunshines · 2 years ago

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if it’s not too much can i ask for sana appreciating reader’s tattoos hehe i love reading ur wooorks

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; smut, cursing

synopsis: sana loves the ink on your skin, she also loves her lips on your skin.

wc: 1.6k

a/n: fuck i need her.

“do you have any more tattoos?” sana asks, curious after seeing your revealed arms.

the sun was setting, its golden light seeping through the blinds to illuminate the darkened room, even landing on sana's brown eyes and emphasizing their color. the two of you lay on the couch together watching some show, sana's head on your shoulder while your arm is wrapped around her—but sana couldn’t really focus after seeing a new territory of revealed skin. her eyes were practically glued to your arm, she missed half of the episode of whatever tv show you were watching.

your arms are covered in ink—not those ugly, stereotypical tattoo sleeves, but various patterns and designs that are both cute and captivating. sana traces along the star-like chain that starts at the bump in your wrist, then rolls her finger down the edge of your outer hand, and to your middle knuckle where the tattoo ended.

“yeah, i have a lot.” you respond, watching the way her finger slowly rolls along your skin. her touch is hot on your cold skin, it’s enticing—makes your breath falter.

her look fixes on the cyberpunk type tattoos, and the varying designs make you even more attractive. sana leans into you more; it's obvious what her intentions are, it's clear as day.

the soft touch from her fingers forms lump in your throat, and you shift in your seat a little at the feeling. it's so intimate that it makes you shrink under her gaze.

"you should show me the other ones you have, y/n." she says, her voice low and inviting. "i bet they're beautiful."

"sana..."

your jaw tenses at her words. sana had already known where your other tattoos happened to be, and you knew what she wanted. you turn to her and she's gazing at you with such a tempting gaze, it's pulling you in and you pinch at your thigh to compose yourself.

sana's fingers are already at the bottom of your tank top, playing with the edge and practically rolling it up herself, a small line of your skin is revealed. you bite your lips at her antics.

a soft kiss is placed on sana's lips, it's light and feathery—which only makes sana crave more, she's so desperate to see more of you, so needy and seductive. she craves you, she needs to see you weak.

sana reaches with her other hand to lift your tank top even more. she rolls the cloth up slowly so she can savor every new area that's revealed to her, eyeing the groove of the prominent muscles on your lower torso and pulling the cloth up to reveal the upper area that's covered with your white bra.

there's a vine-like tattoo on your upper ab, it's beautiful and sana runs a finger along the ink, making you hold your breath. she trails her touch up to the butterfly tattoo that sits in the middle of your chest, the warmth of her fingertips makes your hips move gently. when her fingers land on the ink under your collarbone, just on the upper right of your chest, you almost lose it right then and there—a small whimper escapes your lips.

"you're so beautiful baby," she murmurs, savoring all of you while you look at her with desperation. "so pretty for me, just look at you."

fuck.

she moves you over, pushing you against the dark gray cushion so that you're lying on the couch rather than sitting upright, but before she does so she makes sure to unclip your bra, leaving you topless. sana bites her lip at the sight.

as soon as you're down on the couch, she crawls up your body, placing her hands on either side of you and looking at you with dilated pupils that seem to drill into your own eyes. she hovers over you and smiles; it makes your whole body feel hot, and there's a hungry ache in between your legs.

sana brushes a strand of your hair away from your face, smiling at her beautiful girl—all hers. your hand moves over to cup her cheek, sliding down to her neck and just barely squeezing it after her knee presses against your core. you bite down on sana's lip and she groans into your lips with pleasure.

her lips trail down your jaw down to the crook of your neck, leaving you breathless and your legs squeezing the thigh between them a little from the sensation of sana's touch.

sana removes her lips from your neck, it makes you whimper in disappointment, missing the feeling of her wet, warm kisses and the way her teeth had sunk into your skin. sana's eyes shoot down to your breasts, taking in the sight of the delectable meal before her. she presses a soft kiss to the tattoo in the middle of your chest, then latches her lips onto one of your hardened buds; you let out a sigh of pure pleasure—the feeling of sana's mouth on your tits drives your mind to go blank, and god it's everything you needed.

sana takes her time worshipping your body. she fondles with the breast that her mouth hasn't been busy with, making sure to stimulate you so she can hear the sounds you make. it's so fucking impure, it drives sana insane when you'd mutter out her name, or when a groan would get caught up in your throat.

she cannot get enough of you.

sana travels down your core, making sure to nip and leave marks around and on the ink that occupies the upper area of your abs. her breath was hot on your skin and the way her tongue swirled around your sweet spots drove you crazy; it was evident from the way you bit your lip, trying to conceal the obscene sounds that rolled off your tongue.

"sana, please." you voice in such a desperate tone that leaves sana's core throbbing a bit. "touch me, baby, please."

she meets your gaze again, smiling at your hooded eyes and parted lips. she pulls away and looks at the faint—there are red marks that inhabit your upper body, and she's sure they'll turn a deeper color by the end of the night.

sana shifts down so that she sits just below your waist, her hands work at the button of your jeans, then the zipper, and she's sliding your pants off in no time, revealing the wet fabric that lies underneath.

"baby," she hums in a hoarse voice, "you're so wet for me." she smiles at you seductively while looking at you with those puppy eyes, but you aren't fooled by her looks, you know she'll have you undone and screaming from her touch soon. it arouses you even more.

sana presses her thumb against the damp cloth, right on your clit—it makes you twitch and sana giggles at your reaction amusingly.

"sana," you start, "need you, need your fingers. please."

"be patient," she responds. "wanna look at my beautiful baby." and her response makes your pulse leap, the touch of her fingers tracing along your inked skin and down your abs makes it worse.

you gulp as sana slides your underwear off, a small whimper unknowingly escapes your lips and you don't even care anymore because all you want is sana.

she runs a finger along your folds—the sound is wet and fuck, your whole body feels hot. her free hand traces along the small inked spots on your thighs, igniting a spark on your skin.

sana finally gives into your desires, aiding to your needs. she sticks a finger into you and pumps in and out slowly, a sequence of moans leaving your mouth every time she pumps back in.

sana sticks in another finger so that two digits are in you, pumping in and out at a constant pace which allows a string of curses to leave your mouth, and the way her fingers curl against the anterior wall has you gripping at the cushions and throwing your head back. sana's more than satisfied with your reactions.

"fuck, i'm close," you say, though your voice seems to fade at the end of your words—you're surprised you even managed to form a coherent sentence with the way your head is spinning.

"come on baby," sana encourages, "cum for me."

the throbbing gets worse and you're about the reach your high, the overwhelming sensation in your core builds up and what really gets you is when sana puts more pressure on your clit, then plunges her fingers deeper into you.

"sana, baby oh, fuck-"

you moan so loudly and another explicit curse is practically shouted as your legs tremble. you finish from her touch and your body jerks a little, twitching and squirming in its place as sana watches you, proud of herself.

the panting gets better, your breathing returns to a normal pace and you collapse onto the couch as sana removes her fingers and tastes some of your climax. she smiles proudly at you.

sana crawls back up to kiss you, making sure it's sweet and you can savor the remnants of yourself on her lips. you both groan into the wet, sloppy kiss.

when sana pulls away, she catches your dilated pupils under the hooded, lust-filled gaze. your hair is messed up and a bead of sweat is noticeable on your face.

sana giggles and places a hand on your flushed cheeks, rubbing her thumb and looking at you hungrily.

"i wanna taste more of you," sana smirks. "be good for me?"

you hum in agreement, though it comes off as more of a desperate, low whimper.

sana's lips trail down the familiar landscape again, already nipping at your collarbone and her lips already have your chest marked as their next destination.

you know you're in for a ride.

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana x reader #twice sana #twice smut #sana smut #minatozaki sana

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quoththeowl31 · 1 year ago

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Lets have some Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey fun!

The Young Man:

I thought I was alone in the manor only to find another reading the diaries. He jumped when I cleared my throat and turned, blinding me with the light from his helmet.

The light looked to be far more modern than what is used by today's standards and it easily obscured the man's features.

"What are you doing here?" Was all I could ask.

"I could ask you the same!" His accent wasn't from around here. There was a drawl to it. American? From what I could tell he was young with dark hair and he was ready for a fight given his body language. I have to de-escalate.

"Look I'm just here investigating a missing girl. I'm a private detective."

"Missing girl eh? I've heard rumors this place swallows people up like a hungry beast. Still how do I know you're not pullin' my leg? You ain't some squatter, right?"

My turn...

"Well what about you? What exactly are you doing here? You look like you're here to loot what valuables are left here."

"I don't take kindly to that type of accusation, Detective. If you must know, I'm an Archeologist and here for my own kind of investigation."

Archeologist?

"What could an Archeologist possibly be investigating in an old manor?"

He huffed.

"A lot of people say that this manor is cursed. I'm not necessarily one to believe in supernatural curses; usually when a place is said to be cursed, it's a warning about what natural dangers are encountered there; venomous reptiles or insects, hazardous environments or just a way to scare looters off. But here...there might be something to that."

He pulls something out of his pocket; a photograph of a strange symbol etched into the wall of a room.

"See here? Before the basement was turned into...that...it used to be a darkroom for developing photographs. The Manor's owner at the time of this was a man named Joseph Desaulniers and from what I understand, he was obsessed with capturing souls in photographs and dabbled in occult means to do so. There were symbols like these etched into the walls of the basement and in various locations around the manor grounds."

These symbols...they were familiar but I couldn't place them to any known ancient civilization. I hand back the photos to the Archeologist.

"These symbols...where are they from?"

"From what I've discovered they're from a time before the Romans but there's so little left I've been tracking what little leads I could find about them..." The pause is palpable, I feel as though the sense of dread about the manor has only grown stronger.

"Remember how I said this manor is like a hungry beast? I've managed to decode some of the symbols. They point to a ritual that grants good fortune to those who invoke it. The thing is a constant stream of fresh blood is needed..."

"Fresh blood...you mean like..."

"Yeah...sacrifice."

#identity v #idv #idv detective orpheus #the young man #johnathan carter #johnathan the archeologist #identity v orpheus #identity v novelist

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randomrambles3nonsenseetc · 5 months ago

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Lukola; 'like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives'

Its turning into a soap opera from the 80s. I love it 🤪🥰

I've been quiet and just looking at what others post and the types of comments on posts because people can be downright cruel and mean and im not interested in engaging with any of that. Most of the shipping and comments have been positive so I'm being brave and sharing my take. mostly because after the SAG awards, it has become far too entertaining and halirious and I'm here for all of it.

I've been firmly seated on the viewing deck of the SS Lukola, probably since the beginning of the PR tour early last year. I just keep topping up my cocktail and hold on to my deck chair when they try to steer the ship into a storm. I like storms, I thrive in chaos. I have had a moment or two where I've almost gone inside to the restaurant, but each time I take a breath, waited for those that analyse and research to post their findings and I secure myself back on the deck chair.

It also helps that I'm in Australia and usually asleep when the waves get high. By the time I've woken up or had a minute during a busy work day to check in the storm has settled or passed.

After trying to catch up on all the chaos from the SAG awards, I'm feeling a little drunk. Its been delightful, amusing, halirious and filled my pessimistic little heart with hope.

Perhaps its time to put the cocktails down and sip something non alcoholic, because I get the feeling that the high we're all riding may rock the boat in to a mild storm to try and divert the increased attention they're getting. ..or perhaps they'll pleasantly surprise us by docking the boat in some beautiful tropical bay and give us a little more of the truth... wouldn't that be delightful!

My interest started out as admiration for Luke and Nic's (and most of Bridgerton cast) acting skills and the magical chemistry portrayed by Luke and Nic on the show that quickly turned into a huge appreciation for their natural charisma and chemistry during PR, especially on the world tour... that also amplified the oh so obvious and natural chemistry, attraction, spark, electricity they have with each other that was for those not blind, in our faces during the WT.

Individually they seem like lovely people and good at their craft but together, they are a powerhouse. It reminds me of the scene in Stardust where the boy hugs the girl, the star, and she shines so bright enveloped by each others love that they implode and break the spell of the witches and become 'stardust'.

That is what Lukola remind me of.

They are stardust.

Shining brightly with and for each other but also on the world and oh what an absolute delight for those of us who see it.

While no one knows the truth of what exactly is going on between Luke and Nic behind the scenes and in their very private personal lives, what we have seen and the delicious crumbs they have given us to view, review and analyse, assuredly, fervently, loudly declare that there is more going on than have openly said, in my opinion.

Anyway, c'mon, the hugs, the smiles, they way they look at each other, their entire beings light up when they're together. I've watched enough clips of them to see that they have a type of intimate communication or secret language with each other, in interviews they use words and phrases denoting them as a pair, a couple "us", "we", "our". They unconsciously mimic or mirror each other.. everyone on the ship knows and sees this...

I don't know about the speculated bundle of joy, possibly delivered by golden stork earlier this month. In my mind, some things point to obviously, some things say hmm maybe andnother things have me questioning my eyesight and sanity... so I don't know.

What I do believe is their relationship goes way beyond "just" friends, in my personal opinion. I have never in my life seen good or best friends interact the way they do. Its also incredibly rare to see two people have the type of connection they seem to have, and again while we don't know the truth, my eyes, my heart, my intuition and my analytical observations say there is something more.

I'm so thankful to those fans and shippers that have the time, knowledge and skills to do all the analysing and sharing, including from other platforms because I dont have the time or know how to do that and the SS Lukola journey has kept me entertained and hopeful through some challenging life shit.

What I do know, being an empath and a pretty good observer and critical thinker is that there IS something more going on than what they are outright telling us.

Yes, the crumbs and clues are delightful and Nic herself has said she loves the drama of reality TV. So I wonder if part of their plan to divert or distract has been to some extent to purposely amplify the drama with the other people who have been bought in? Which hasn't necessarily had the desired or intended effect and is why perhaps they keep popping their heads up like little mere cats or that arcade game where you have to hit the crocodile heads to win. Lol that image just makes me laugh. And im not gonna be mean... but the analogy kinds fits, teehehehe.

Going back to being serious... Im saddened and disgusted by people who have made horrible comments about the other people involved in this game. We may not like them or agree with dissenting views on the how's and why's and wherefor's, but there is no need to stoop to their level and spit out hateful, unkind, derogatory comments... they are, at the end of the day also human beings, doing what they think is best for themselves. That might include some kind of legal arrangement or other type of reciprocal arrangement or wild card arrangement or it could be a much simpler answer.

Im not condoning their actions, I'm just saying they're human. At the very least, just ignore them and the dissenters and let's continue to enjoy the trip on the ship and sail on past.

We won't know the truth until Luke and Nic or someone from their team/s directly makes a statement.

Until a statement comes directly from them or their tem/s I'll keep my seat on the ship. Even if their statement isn't what I wanted, I'll still have a reserved ticket because I think they're end game...for eternity. Their souls are like North and south of the stardust that binds them together and makes them shine even brighter when they're together.

For those on the ship, its been a bloody brilliant trip so far. Full of wild twists and turns, some big waves and storms, and beautiful calm seas and almost crystal clear waters... whatever happens next I'm locked in and intrigued to see where the ship goes next.

Im also open to being proven completely wrong and watching the ship hit a deep sand bar and run aground, forcing everyone to disembark into the wet and sandy shores as we wipe our tears and drag our luggage behind us.

But ha! I don't think we're wrong!

I hope and pray to the universe, the gods, guardian angels, greater universal power that the magical stardust from the etherial connection and effervescent energy they exude with each other and on the the world is as true and real as we all feel and believe it to be. I hope their light and love will continue to strengthen as they feel safe and confident in themselves, their careers and their relationship to share more of their truth with the world and that we, the fans and shippers are respectful of their privacy and give them some space to just BE.

Full steam ahead captain!

#lukola #the love boat #nicola coughlan #luke newton

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