#WERE GETTING SMUT PEOPLE

[mullermilkshake]

Settle in with me

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

After the results of the programme in hopes of producing future hunters, Jinwoo takes the lead.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - mentions of breeding,Dirty thoughts,Jealousy,kissing,Jinwoo really wants to fuck you,Forced pairing for breeding,Kinda role playing,Little mentions of squirting and other sexual acts,Mentions of pregnancy and impregnation

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EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

The results of the pairings had been delayed due to a tragedy.

“We apologise for the delay, due to the loss of one of our association members, we had to wait until we could access the sensitive information. A formal enquiry is being made in the meantime and it’s being treated as suspicious.”

“To think we had such bad news right on our doorstep. At a time like this too.” Hunter Choi took off his glasses and cleaned them with dismay and pursed lips.

Jinwoo walked right through without issue for that information. Stealth made it way too easy. Still, he feigned surprise. “Why would someone do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

You remained silent, spacing out at the table, sitting next to Jinwoo this time. Baek slammed his fist on the table and it never even made you flinch. “Of course it makes no sense, it’s just information on who’s sleeping with who essentially-”

“Please, don’t be so crude.” Hunter Cha snapped, wiping away the invisible smell with her handkerchief. “We’re all affected by this, a man is dead. And… we’re all affected.” Her voice trailed off, she realised her outburst was seen by everyone, including the Chairman.

Jinwoo sat back and watched, awaiting the news with the excitement of carrying out his year-long quest. He’d have you soon enough, he only hoped you would do so willingly.

“Can we… Can we just get this over with now while the investigation is underway? I’d really like to go now.” You said, finally participating, fiddling with your fingers under the table because you just didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“I think so too.” Jinwoo interjected the tension and flashed you a sympathetic look. “There’s nothing we can do right now and I think we’d all like to get on with things so we can settle in, right?”

“Exactly, Hunter Sung, while we can grieve those who make the Hunters association smooth like a machine, we must carry on.” Chairman Go pulled out a sheet of paper, a small one at that, practically insignificant. “I have here the latest results for the trial period of S-Ranked Hunters set to participate in the programme, I’ll read it out as follows.”

Jinwoo picked up on your heightened breathing immediately, trembling fingers knotted together and holding on for dear life. Anticipating the future of the Hunter’s association.

“Hunter Cha will be paired with Hunter Choi. Which leaves…” When your name graced the Chairman’s lips, you watched the man’s soft facade with anticipation. “You will be paired with Hunter Sung.”

There was nothing to be said about the elephant in the room, well, the entire room was the elephant. Jinwoo sat with a wash of relief though stifled it for now. A matter of hours and he’d potentially be balls deep inside you ready to blow his first load inside you… for the good of the association, the country, his fellow Hunters and guild members.

“This will be effective immediately, so you should gather your things and return to headquarters later tonight for your keys and accommodation. I am appreciative of all the hard work you do and what more you’ll be sacrificing for this country and the association.”

Jinwoo liked the ring to that, effective immediately.

After the Chairman left, Baek slouched back into his chair and whistled. “I wasn’t sure which one of us it was going to be, but I didn’t think it would be both of you. Ugh, things are going to get weird around here.”

Choi was naturally flustered, but his rivalry with Baek pushed past the initial shock. “I think it’s a valiant effort, maybe that’s why you weren’t asked to do it. Nevermind.”

Baek growled. “Watch it buddy-”

“Ugh, was there any point in us even being here? I came all this way for nothing.” Hunter Lim had not said one word the entire meeting, shrugging off whatever words and consternation entered the room. He and Hunter Ma were not present the last time the S-Rank hunters were together.

Hunter Ma sat watching the two boil over in their feud. “I guess we just gotta do it then, no point in fightin’ amongst ourselves.”

You and Cha were silent, unmoving and weighted down in the boardroom chairs, the gravity of it all getting more heavy with each ragged breath amongst the inhouse fighting. 

Jinwoo never took your silence as an insult, in honesty, he never wanted it to be this way between you and him. He hoped with time you’d take to him as much as he understood Cha was with him. The bonus being that it would just accelerate things and give him a head start on his quest.

“You think you’re the shit now because you might have an S-Rank baby? Heh, we’ll see about that.”

“Guys, stop it!” Banging your fist on the table got Choi and Baek to stop their squabbling temporarily, everyone looked right at you in pin drop silence. “This is hard enough as it is without you two fighting. Things are going to change around here and we have to just… get used to it. Please don’t make this any more complicated than it has to be.”

Then, you walked out, taking Hunter Cha with you.

Now, the men pouted or sat around in the swivel chairs waiting for someone to speak and break the silence.

“I bet you’re happy, huh, Jinwoo?” Lim rested his chin on his balled fist over the table. “She’s pretty, but doesn’t Jong-In have a crush on her?”

“Uh… hold on a second.” Choi adjusted his glasses and cleared the truth from him throat awkwardly. “Firstly, a crush? We’re adults. Secondly, I admit to no such thing, we’re quite good friends, actually. It’s quite that simple and while I think I would have suited her well, the computer chose Hunter Sung, so I won’t protest. Thirdly, although not lastly, Hunter Cha is also a good candidate, gentlemen.”

Jinwoo noticed the mild resentment behind his mask, it slipped ever so slightly before regaining its control of his face again. Jong-In Choi was a kind man, everybody knew that, the goodness in his soul was something Jinwoo admired from time to time. A trait he wouldn’t ever fully grasp again after slipping between the line of right and wrong. 

But man, was he easy to read.

The association member Jinwoo killed wasn’t the first man, he also wasn’t remorseful in the slightest at the sight of his dead body on the ground. Although he hoped it wasn’t necessary, it was to secure your name. So all in all, not a wasted journey.

Murder… A trait he gained in which he hoped to work on, but recently, Jinwoo found himself wanting to leave it fester. That’s where all of his sudden intrusive thoughts showed themselves. Although right now, seeing Choi so flustered over you should make him want to do something to the man, even if it was just harsh words for the time being, what saved him was having you paired with him and not Choi. The saving grace in this scenario. Something he could inaudibly shove in his face and no one be none the wiser.

But he knew if push came to shove, he could kill Choi easy.

Jinwoo smiled sweetly to the room. “Well, while it’s unorthodox they want us to do this, I know me and her will make a good team, just like Hunter Cha and Choi will.”

“A true political answer, good job, Jinwoo.” Lim patted him in the back and threw his hands in his pockets. “But I’m out of here now so enjoy doing whatever in the bedroom.”

“You’re leaving already?” Baek stopped any annoyance and rolled his chair away from Choi a fraction and studied Hunter Lim’s relaxed trudge towards the door.

“Yeah, There was no point us being here if they weren’t going to pair us off with any of the A-Ranks at least or something, they really only needed Jong-In and Jinwoo for the announcement. No one wants to know what sort of kinky stuff they’ll be getting up to, we just continue life as normal. And I have a guild to run, see ya.”

“What’s up with that guy today?”

“He’s right, I gotta guild to run too, see ya!” Ma strolled out of the room without putting his two pence in and closed the door behind him with an untenable pressure pulsing with uncertainty.

“I guess I’ll go too then. I have to go and pack.” Jinwoo stood up without much resistance from the other two.

“I’ll see you later then, Hunter Sung.” Choi smoothed down his suit and left it at that.

Jinwoo walked through headquarters with elation, holding back his smile as soon as he heard you talking with Cha in the hallway. He stopped and listened in the shadows with stealth, not that you would be fooled by that at all. Your perception was far too high.

“It’ll be alright, because we’ll do this together. Shit… okay, okay. We’ll do this, one kid and we’ll bow out. That’s what the chairman said.”

Cha was panicked, trying to control her breathing from behind the stairwell. “Is this really the right thing, though? I can’t help but feel used. How could I look at a baby and just give it away?”

You however, were much calmer, like you had accepted your future path. “You’re right, I feel the same way. At least you’ll be with Jong-In, he’s a real sweet guy. I’m… I’m sorry you weren’t put with Jinwoo. I know you like him.”

Hae-In Cha made her obvious feelings subtle to everyone else, but Jinwoo saw right through them given enough time. He kept it secret, chasing you instead and giving Cha no reason to extend that olive branch. Jinwoo just wasn’t interested. She was a skilled S-Rank hunter for sure, impressive and beautiful, but you… you were something else. And still exploring your abilities to this day.

A point Jinwoo rarely brought up in his mind, that you were incredibly useful to him.

Cha’s breath stuck in her throat, Jinwoo stepped closer to see her expression. “Uh… n-no! I don’t- I mean… well, yeah, I kind of do. But there’s nothing to be done about it. It’s just sex, right?”

Wrong . It wasn’t just sex, not for Jinwoo.

You went in to speak but hesitated, turning your head in Jinwoo’s direction with a scowl, you just missed him.

“What is it?” Cha questioned, her tone softer than before.

“Uh… I-I’m not sure, I thought I saw- listen, just think of it that way. It’s just sex, and hopefully we can do this as quickly as possible. No growing pains, just our jobs. Together, alright?”

It wasn’t just sex. Jinwoo would make that clear every time he fucked you, made you come and forced his name on your lips so loud Jong-In Choi would hear down the hall.

And by that night, when Jinwoo heard the requirements for the programme, ‘At least three times a week, but most nights if you can, depending on your schedules. We’ll try to make them less conflicting as possible’. 

Yeah, life looked pretty interesting from here on out.

He’d fuck you every night, no problem, to train you to see just how much you needed him despite your independence.

When the door of the little apartment on top of headquarters closed for the first time behind you, Jinwoo’s web had started weaving. You were so beautiful in the moonlight of the darkened apartment, saying goodbye to Jong-In and Hae-In as they disappeared into their own space. It was more intimate now among the S-Ranks, using first names wholeheartedly like neighbours and friends instead of hunters.

It was all very domesticated.

“So…” You said, clearly ruminating on the path that brought you here.

Jinwoo could see it in your eyes, that doe eyed little stare anxiously darting about the room and everywhere but him.

“So… Uh, you can look at me, y’know?” Jinwo wanted you to look at him the way Jong-In looked at you.

He made it his personal quest, and seeing the system's quest progress unmoved bothered him. Not the best start to an evening, he wondered how to bring you more at ease. Jinwoo waited this long to be in this type of situation and he wasn’t giving up with the opportunity of fucking you senseless and having you all to himself.

“S-sorry, I just don’t really know where to go from here without making it weird.”

Awkward, pressured, even artificial? Maybe. Weird? Never.

“Is this your first time, or?”

You struggled to stifle your gasp in the dark room and shuffled about a bit. “What? N-no I’ve had sex before, Jinwoo.”

He rubbed his neck and feigned embarrassment. “Sorry- bad start. I just wanted to gauge your boundaries. I don’t want to cross any unintentionally.” 

More than I already have. That’ll come with time, then she'll be thanking me for doing it.

“Ah crap… what the fuck, Jinwoo. I never thought we’d be in this position.” Hearing your sweet huff of that bratty frustration he knew you were capable of turned him on. “Hae-In really likes you- but you can’t say anything because she made me promise not to tell you, but this feels wrong… it feels…”

What words would you utter? Jinwoo would use perfect, or extraordinary. Nothing negative like you wanted to use.

“She likes you. It’s like I’m betraying her.”

“Look.” Jinwoo changed the subject immediately, thinking of ways to change your mind without his influence. “Why don’t we forget about everything outside, and just focus on what’s going on in here? We could pretend that we just had a really awesome date, I asked you back to my place and you said yes.”

“Like roleplaying?” Exactly.

He nodded like you could see him properly. “It might ease your nerves.”

“A-alright… but can we leave the lights off? I’m not sure I want that right now.”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

Jinwoo heard your steps draw nearer, closer until you were near enough to take you right then and there if you let him. He’d pick you up and carry you over to the open planned kitchen counter and fuck you with your knees close to your chest.

Fuck. I have to try that sometime.

“So…” You said again, tugging on his jacket to get his role played attention. “Thanks for this. I mean it…”

Jinwoo sensed you were trying to get in character, he took the lead like most things in this relationship were going to develop. “Thanks for tonight, I had a great time, I wasn’t sure you were going to come up here. I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“I did want to. It’s just… I haven’t done this with many people so I’m a little nervous.”

He took our chin with his thumb and forefinger, trying not to smile at your quick inhale. “It’s alright. I can lead you through it, how does that sound?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

“I think it’ll be better if we kiss a little first, do you want to?” 

When you nodded and allowed yourself to get close, your lips were everything Jinwoo had wondered about. So supple, warm and plump enough to suck on, to bite and pull. He could tell you were reluctant, wooden with your position with your hands still enough to pass for a marble statue. So Jinwoo took your hands between his fingers, small enough for one hand whilst the other ran through your hair and brought you closer than before.

Your tongue drowned him in his lust he was so desperately holding back, to not let his urges spoil you before he had a chance to earn your trust completely. Jinwoo wanted to ruin you until you couldn’t speak coherently and only communicated in murmurs and babbling because of a multiple orgasm streak that got you squirting all over his face.

And then you pulled away from him. For a second there, he thought you were backing out of it. But then you said, “Will you look after me, Jinwoo? I’m scared.”

Jinwoo took an educated guess and assumed it was the tough stuff, the pregnancy to come and all that other stuff. Well, of course it was, having mind bending sex wasn’t something to be frightened of. But getting you pregnant was something Jinwoo couldn’t join you with fear because it excited him, it turned him on something chronic.

And pregnancy sex? Sign him up.

He took your hand and walked off without consulting you, straight towards the bedroom. “Let’s get comfortable.”

“Jinwoo-”

“I’m going to look after you, I promise.”

His impromptu plan worked, he might have had innocent blood on his hands doing it, but he couldn’t wait to have something more precious in his hands for years to come and now that he had it, he wouldn’t let it go.

And that was you.

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

Tag list - @bubera974,@snowy-violet,@sky2lar,@starrynights23x,@minh907

@yessirr7,@aussie-boys-wife,@yihona-san06

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[abbessofflesh]

Remmick does all the chores and takes care of the garden so wifey can brag about all her flowers and excellent fruit n veggie harvest to the neighbors

Oh this is cute as fuck. Might revisit this if inspiration strikes. (For the asks still rotting in my inbox, I might reply with initial thoughts and leave it open to come back to, like this one. Not ignoring them I promise😭🫶)

For all his talk—and talk, and talk— about family, Remmick hasn’t copped to a communal attitude when it comes to you. If you want the brightest, greenest garden, you’re going to get it for the sole purpose of having an arsenal of bragging points against your neighbors.

It’s funnier if you don’t even care that much. Maybe you started out with a squash or two, some cherry tomatoes whose seeds caught your eye during one trip to the market… doesn’t matter because all too soon they’re discovered to be in various stages of death and decay because you have no idea what you’re doing. To you, it’s eh, you tried.

But to Remmick, it’s shameful, and until he sees how shit you are at caring for plants, he thinks someones put a curse on your yard. It can’t be you, his love, the one who can do no wrong in his eyes. So he drags you out of bed at midnight for you to show him exactly what you’ve been doing. You demonstrate your maintenance activities of watering (you’ve given it enough to last a year), weeding (those weren’t weeds, that was part of the plant), and pruning (those branches you removed were healthy.)

When you look up, you notice he’s a few shades too pale even for someone with his…condition. He’s in shock. One hand on his hip and the other collecting his jaw from the ground because that mouth is gaping. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he’s discovered something you suck at.

“Well…we can’t all be perfect, can we? Glad I finally found that flaw of yours.”

To avoid a repeat performance, he’s taking over—no, no, it’s fine, he’s got it, don’t touch it. It gives him something to do while you sleep, anyway.

After several, recovering weeks, your yard sticks out like a sore, green thumb, perpetually vibrant and lively despite the fact that you’re never seen in it (and that’s the reason). Any other time period besides modern would get you accused of witchcraft. Your neighbors beg you for tips and tricks, and you have to placate them with gratitude for the flattery and the promise that you’ll get the information they seek from your night gardener (severance reference.)

Even though you can’t take the credit, Remmick wants you to take the praise. He likes watching you get all flustered from the window, likes it even more when you come back into the house and he can sense the delicious blood filling your cheeks. He’s always urging you out the door when he sees your neighbors in the yard.

“Go on, honey. Go tell ‘em about your plants.”

They’re more his than yours at this point, but you oblige him because it makes him happy and that makes you happy.

As for crops, you have way too much. Far beyond an appropriate amount for one person, since Remmick doesn’t know shit about the needs of a human (love this post) and he’d rather be safe than sorry. He’s being such a good boy when it comes to caring for your needs, but it gets to a point…So when he’s bringing you your third dish of stew for the night and you tell him you’re full, he’ll stand there with the bowl in his hands and blink at you like the combination of words coming from your mouth just don’t make sense. He’ll look at the stew, then to you, then back at the food.

“Are you sure?” 

“Pretty sure.” 

“But…there’s so much left. Did I make it wrong?” 

And yeah that paired with those puppy eyes has you eating until you’re miserable, but you make him promise not to touch the kitchen for the rest of the night. No, Remmick, you don’t want dessert.

[finrays]

Talking to “normal people” who don’t read or write fanfiction is hilarious sometimes because lowkey so many of them expect it all to be smut, but you get to inform them that you don’t write smut, watch them relax a bit, then horrify them in a totally different way.

It’s like you’re the weathered shopkeeper sweeping the porch like “No ma’am, the porn is next door, this here is an AU where a woman thinks she’s a spaceship.”

[heylittleriotact]

𝐢 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕

𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐳𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞: 𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬 - 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡.

Read below or on ao3

The holiday season wasn't relaxing when you worked at a funeral home, as it turned out. In fact, it was statistically the busiest time of the year: the frail and elderly were more likely to succumb to death's call when the conditions were cold and bleak; inclement weather made for icy roads and parking lots, resulting in more fatal car accidents and falls; and most tragically of all was the notable uptick in suicides and overdoses around this time of year: the holidays were plainly a breaking point for some people, and during the week leading up to Wintersend when a new call came in where the decedent was resting at the medical examiner, Rook felt sad - sad for the person who had left. Sad for their family who would forever have to navigate this time of year while being reminded of the tragedy associated with it.

Taking vacation time during the busiest time of the year was basically unheard of at McDermott & Rafferty: in order to keep up with the higher than normal call volume, only a certain number of staff were permitted time off over the entire month, and those available dates were snatched up within hours of the calendar rolling over in the new year.

Rook was fortunate that due to the rotation of her schedule and sheer luck, she'd manage to swing an extra day off after Wintersend, which then rolled into her normal weekend off, resulting in four glorious days off in a row.

McDermott & Rafferty was open three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year. They were fully staffed for all other statutory holidays, with the only exception being the singular day of Wintersend. Even then, it operated on a skeleton crew of staff: one person in the call center, two transfer drivers to be available to remove any decedents from where they passed away, and two funeral directors on call, splitting the hours equally, should anyone urgently need to speak with a funeral director.

Emmrich had graciously offered to cover the first half of Wintersend until noon. After that, Leigh Ernesto would take over.

Rook wasn't crazy about the fact that their first Wintersend morning together would be spent within arm's reach of Emmrich's cellphone, rather than wrapped around each other and indulging in mimosas and sweet-rolls while thick fluffy snowflakes fell outside the window, but such was the nature of their calling, and she was grateful to be spending it with him at all. Besides, once he was no longer on call, he had the same days off as Rook, and she intended to take full advantage of that fact.

“Joan asked me yesterday if you’d met my parents,” she mentioned from her place at the end of the couch where she was scrolling her phone, half reading through key studying points for her upcoming final exam, half-watching the TV where black and white reruns of Alfred Hitchcock Presents enigmatized upon the screen.

“Did she?” He mused, flipping the page of his book and returning to massaging her feet in his lap.

“Yeah. I told her you got in a huge fight with them and kicked my Dad’s ass.”

Emmrich tutted, “I really wish you wouldn’t tell our colleagues such outlandish things, darling - wasn’t it awkward enough to have to sit down with Perry and sign that Consensual Relationship Agreement?”

By the time they both arrived at work on Monday after the party - separately - it became rapidly apparent that everyone at McDermott & Rafferty had somehow learned of their relationship over the course of the weekend.

‘Spotted leaving the party together and looking very cozy while doing so’ was the rumour that had circulated the ranks of all hundred-odd staff members in less time than it took for an Amazon delivery.

The source of the rumour was unclear - it had travelled so quickly through so many channels that getting to the root of it proved nearly impossible - not like it mattered: they had left the party together and they were very cozy. Denying it would only open the door to further embellishments and outright fabrications: the last thing Rook wanted to be doing was damage control on some bullshit nonsense about she and Emmrich fucking in a hearse or something.

“I mean if people want to keep asking me questions about my personal, off-the-clock life, they’re welcome to,” Rook snorted, “That doesn’t mean I have to tell them the truth - it’s none of their fucking business. I’ll keep making up increasingly insane shit until they get the point.”

She brushed the ball of her free foot over the front of Emmrich’s pants, pleased when his relaxed frame stiffened at the feeling of her toes on his flaccid cock: she knew exactly what she was doing with the flippant little movement.

“Besides,” she continued, “Joan knows you well enough to know that a bare-knuckle brawl with your girlfriend’s dad is the last thing you’d throw yourself into: it was just my special, polite little way of telling her to fuck off.”

"I admit I do feel better not having to be quite so secretive about things." He drank from his cup of tea, and Rook reached for her glass of wine on the coffee table next to her: red, intense, and pricier than anything she could ever justify buying. "I just worry that some see it as..." he hesitated.

"Inappropriate?" Rook suggested before taking a sip and setting her glass back down. "Mmmm, yes - surely everyone thinks that the cradle-robbing creeper used his position of power and authority over the young doe-eyed nymph, seducing her while with his fortune and dark sensuality while continuing to exercise said position of power in a way that puts her at a blatant disadvantage."

Emmrich's cheeks reddened, "I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly, but–"

"But what? You're hardly in a powerful position: you're not my boss or my supervisor - as far as hierarchy flowcharts go at McDermott & Rafferty go, we're basically on the same level: the only difference is you get paid more and get to deal with more bullshit. The only real power imbalance that anyone could point out would be the fact that you teach one of my embalming classes–"

"Exactly, dear, and–"

"– and I won't even have the prerequisite course completed so I can sign up for that one until later next year," Rook forged on. "We've already chatted about it: you'll go on leave for that semester, and someone else will fill in for you while I'm taking the course so there's no conflict of interest. You've already talked to the Program Director about it, and been forthcoming about our situation, so there's literally no reason for anyone to act fucking weird about it."

He got tangled up like this some times, she had learned: left to sit with his own thoughts for too long, he'd get lost in hypotheticals and 'what ifs' and outcomes that were well beyond his control: they had talked about this - at least three times - each time leading to the same outcome: it was going to be alright and no one was going to put him on a registry that precluded him from being within five-hundred yards of a school. He hadn't done anything wrong: Rook was a consenting adult who was interested in bouncing on his cock because she enjoyed it - not because he had somehow tricked or manipulated her into it.

"Rook..." he began solemnly, closing the book and setting it down.

"Emmrich," she retorted.

Something was bothering him - she could tell by the slight knit of his brow, and the way his mouth turned down at the corners; his eyes introspective... almost searching for something unseen.

"What's actually on your mind?" She prodded. "We've been over this so many times, I'm beginning to think you're using it as a front for something else."

His eyes drifted to his lap: her feet across it and his book. His palm whispered over the cover as if trying to soothe the inanimate object made of wood-pulp and ink.

"It's a personal question for many of us, so I don't ask it lightly: what inspired you to pursue the funeral profession, darling?"

Why is he making such a big deal of it? I've been asked this question by co-workers no less than thirty times since I started - it's not exactly taboo...

"My Dad died suddenly when I was 17. I was the one who found him when he didn't get out of bed in the morning: pulmonary embolism in his sleep. Struggled with it - we were real close. He pretty much raised me on his own." She put her phone down on the table. "The funeral director that helped us was an uptight dickhead - came off as really patronizing like I was some stupid little kid instead of a teenager. I remember thinking that if I was in his shoes, I'd never make a young person feel that way after they'd been through what I had. I just remember feeling isolated and misunderstood.

"Like..." she heaved a sigh. "–if one more 'adult' in my life at that time tried to make me feel better by telling me that my Dad dying in the middle of the night was 'the Maker's plan', or that at least he died quickly and he didn't suffer - I was going to fucking lose it. Who the fuck says that to anyone, let alone a girl who's just lost her only parental figure that actually gave a shit about her?"

Emmrich’s head tilted sideways, conceding the validity of her words. “Many people are disquieted when forced to confront grief: they mean well, but articulate themselves clumsily when they attempt to console or comfort the bereaved."

“Yeah, you know that. I know that now too - but I didn’t then, and I sat with that resentment for a long time until last year when my friend, Varric, died. It was a hit and run: someone mowed him down in a crosswalk when he was walking home from the pub one night. No one ever came forward. No arrests were ever made. And then it was more of the same: ‘ohhhh at least he didn’t suffer,’ and ‘destiny can be so cruel!’ So I said to myself: fuck it - I can do better. I can actually help people going through shit like this in a meaningful way instead of leaving them to shoulder an entire fucking nightmare on their own. Because—”

“—you know what it’s like,” Emmrich finished for her, absently tracing the shape of the bones in her feet.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure you’ve come to realize that a significant portion of us are drawn to the profession for similar reasons - you are already aware that my own motivations were similar.” He turned his head to look at her. “Have you found that it’s helped? With those feelings of unresolved grief and resentment?”

"Maybe. I guess it's helped me understand them better: grief isn't linear, right? That's what all of the psychologists and textbooks say: The Kübler-Ross Model of the classic 'five stages' isn't meant to be taken literally, and there are days all I can feel is cold, aching fury that the coward who killed Varric is still out there, living their life without consequence. Other days, I feel grateful that the loss doesn't hurt quite as viciously as it did in those first months. Some days I don't even think about Varric at all, and then, like... the next day I hear a random song or unexpectedly encounter the smell a stale deck of cards or cheap whiskey or something, and it all comes tumbling back like it was yesterday. But... that's grief, right? You grow around it– and it lingers like scar-tissue: it never actually goes away. That's the burden of loss."

"You are wise beyond your years, my love..." he squeezed her foot gently, the fleshy curve of his thumb sinking into her arch.

"Don't you start patronizing me now too..."

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "I wasn't."

Rook stared at him, not sure how to move past the undeniably heavy subject, but Emmrich spoke before she could pounce on an attempt at levity.

"Have you ever been frightened by the thought of dying, Rook?"

Not exactly what she'd imagined discussing on the eve of Wintersend, but...

"I mean... yeah. When I kicked Tommy out and was living alone for the first time ever, I was having a shower one day and realized that if I slipped and cracked my head and died in there, someone was going to eventually stumble upon my water-bloated corpse when they came to investigate after not hearing from me for days. Or what if I choked on my breakfast? I’d be fucked. But like... what was I gonna do? Call Leon and make him stay with me on speakerphone every time I bathed or ate in case the worst happened? I mean... he would, because he's cool like that - but all I'm saying is, don't we all fear the unavoidable possibility of death from time to time?"

His expression was unreadable, the flickering light of the television emphasizing the lines etched upon his handsome face and the silver of his hair that appeared almost luminescent in the stark white light of an old horror story dreamt up by an enterprising and charismatic monster.

“… This concludes our little preachment on the evils of drink. Tune in next time, when we shall again present a charming little horrific fairy tale…”

Alfred Hitchcock bid them a good night.

“Emmrich?”

“When I was younger, it happened more often than that,” he murmured.

“Huh?”

“That was when I discovered I possess a great terror of dying.”

“Ohhh…”

A pragmatic little voice in the back of her mind politely suggested it was time to use those active listening skills she’d been working so hard on.

She picked up the remote and turned the TV off, setting it down and sliding her feet from Emmrich’s lap, tucking her legs underneath her and sidling up alongside him.

“That’s pretty heavy, babe… I’m sorry. You can tell me more about it if you want.” She found his hand with both of hers and maneuvered it flat, uncurling his fingers and tracing the lines of his palm with a feather-light touch.

“It goes beyond dread,” he explained, gazing pensively at her glass of wine, not shrinking - not wilting. “It can’t be reasoned with, or soothed over.”

Yeah, like a phobia. I’m keeping up. But why bring it up now...?

Always with the damn why–

Shut up and listen, Rook...

“It comes without warning, in the dead of night - in sunlit streets: a raw, strangling fear struck somewhere deep past the heart.”

Rook exhaled heavily, the weight of the admission settling upon her: the trauma of losing his parents so young, and being able to hear and see the dead seemed like enough reason for the cocktail of psychiatric meds in his bathroom upstairs - but a crippling fear of death on top of it all… no wonder he needed the chemical assistance...

“A decidedly problematic phobia for any mortician."

“Indeed,” Emmrich concurred, closing his fingers around hers and burying his nose in her hair. She hoped he was smelling her - she liked when he smelled her. “‘Thanatophobia’ as it’s known in psychiatric circles - though I’m sure you’ve observed that this anxiety is far from uncommon in our profession: I myself was surprised to discover that I wasn’t alone. I debated this fear with friends, I argued with teachers…” he shook his head slightly, as if amused by his own naivety. “And yet… it lingered.”

“I mean… you put a bunch of traumatized people with varying degrees of death-anxiety in one place and they’re bound to reinforce that fear, even while they’re trying to control it. Our line of work isn’t exactly detached from death as a concept.”

“Precisely, but shouldn't it—?”

Manfred dropped down onto their laps from the back of the couch, having snuck up on them.

“Mraaaaaaow!” He trilled emphatically, gazing up at the two of them with his lamp-like eyes, tail flicking from side to side. He was wearing the blue sequined Wintersend themed collar that Rook had spent the better part of an hour wrestling him into earlier that evening.

Emmrich’s features melted and he stroked Manfred’s soft white head.

“Manfred’s right: that’s maudlin enough. It’s Wintersend after all, and a mortician should find peace in his own mortality.”

Deep purrs rumbled up through the small creature’s chest and Rook scratched under his chin.

“That can’t have been easy to tell me,” Rook said, cozy and content with her man and his cat. “I’m glad you did - and for what it’s worth, I don’t think any less of you. Actually, I think you’re really brave.”

“You do?” The surprise in his voice was palpable.

“Mhmmm.” She nodded, tilting her head up so she could see his face. “You get out of bed every morning and keep going anyway. Keep living. Keep choosing to help people at the cost of surrounding yourself with the thing you fear most every fucking day. It’d be like me being a pest exterminator for a living.”

“A pest exterminator?” He wrapped his arm around Rook and pulled her tight to him. “You’re—?”

“Irrationally frightened of bed bugs.” Rook picked Manfred's front paws up and made him dance a little.

“Really?”

"Oh yeah. Bad experience when I first moved out. Ever wondered why I cringe and shiver when I'm going through clothing from families? I dunno if they've got fucking bed bugs or something. Makes me itch just thinking about it.”

It did. It really fucking did. She could feel it - the telltale prickle at the backs of her thighs... the nape of her neck...

“Funny how that happens,” he mused.

“Funny indeed,” she agreed, craning her neck to look at the clock in the breakfast nook. “It blows that you're on call, but it's Wintersend: you wanna hang out for a while longer and have a drink with me before bed? Just one won’t hurt, will it?”

His thumb trailed down her jaw and he brushed his lips over hers. “Darling, I would be content to stare at a blank wall for the next twelve hours, so long as I was in your company while doing it: a drink sounds lovely.”

"I love you..." she smiled. "I'll keep you safe from death if you keep me safe from bed bugs, okay?"

She wasn't stupid.

She knew he was humouring her about the bed bugs and death part when he said, "Of course, darling - I love you too.”

[stjernec]

This Sebagni fanfiction in my brain is going so crazy. If only you guys could read my thoughts and I didn't have to put it down on paper.

[grinfodoro-reblogs-corral]

Btw, if Mario and Peach were both men or women and Nintendo had confirmed they were Just Friends, you would have NOT see this uproar from the Mario or general videogame community.

Don't let the "It's because they're cancelling love and romantic rapresentation" argument fool you. They're mad because *heteronormativity* was not comfirmed, and now they are pulling out any argument they can just to not admit their vision of two popular pop icons could have been wrong and biased.

[spotaus]

Ah, my English Professor just introduced the class to AU Fan Fiction. I'm unwell.

[dramatic-dolphin]

sorrrryyyy but that post about "Divine Comedy is not fanfiction, it's nothing like the omegaverse smut you write" is SOOOO dumb. the Divine Comedy is not fanfiction because it does not fit the definition and cultural context of fanfiction, not because it's better in quality than a hypothetical bad-quality fanfiction you just made up. that has nothing to do with it. it's like arguing we shouldn't call it literature because it's so much better than some book called Kidnapped By The Alien Warlord or whatever. do you see how fucking stupid that sounds.

[skibasyndrome]

since I didn't really seriously get into the fanfic side of the yr fandom until later in October last year: is kinktober a thing in the fandom?

[mosswild]

where are my fellow aroaces who had really close friends as an early teen but started to drift as their sexualities started to develop and their interests shifted but yours didn't, and it felt like they were going somewhere that you couldn't go or didn't want to go, and you didn't understand why they couldn't stay and keep doing things as they'd always been

[rob3e]

I'll get a comment on AO3 and be giggling and kicking my feet about it for the next few months

[sukibenders]

I don't know, maybe it's just me, but does anyone else find it a little weird seeing people ship Walker and Leah? Or just like....any of the younger pjo TV show cast? Because like, why are people doing that? I thought they left behind after the whole debacle with Emma Waston and the guy who plays Draco. Like, please, let's not ship underage actors together just because they have chemistry on screen.

[gladiatorcunt]

lmao i got vague posted

[chaotic-aro-incarnate]

I need to stop reading comments on mdl cause I was reading them for Anti Reset and everyone was like "oh I hope he's actually a human" or "why on earth would a human date a robot" and I reminded that as a transgender person on tumblr I am not a representative demographic on a broad scale. Like wdym why would he end up with a robot does eroticism of the machine mean nothing to you

[dick-helmet-magneto]

1.5k hits on the one straight smut fic i've written. I...have fears. that wasn't good people. it wasn't good