#for some reason i need WAY more pressure than i used to to get the same level of opacity in sai which is. not great for my hands

[jj-one]

i’m having thoughts that desperately need sharing

who in skz would most likely love an inexperienced partner because they would loveeee the idea of teaching them everything and guiding them through their first time?

i have had these thoughts for so long now and i need somebody to share my delulu with 😛

you’ve come to the right place bestie, let’s be delusional together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i feel like chan, minho, & seungmin would absolutely love the idea of having an inexperienced partner the most but i’m not opposed to the idea of all the members being into it. here’s my little list that i compiled hehe <3

chan:

he’s too fucking gentle with you at first, like he treats you as if you’re some delicate flower and is hesitant on corrupting your innocence— especially when it comes to fucking you bc he suffers from big dick syndrome and doesn’t wanna hurt you </3 but once he knows you wanna be taught, it’s game over. he’s the world’s biggest tease so ofc he loves pressing the head of his cock against your untouched folds, not entering, just showing you what’s coming. makes you say ��please” until you’re crying. he gets off on having all the control, dragging you down his filthy little rabbit hole with soft praises and unbearable pressure. he wants to be the only one who’s touched you. every gasped whimper, every flutter of your pussy around him as he pushes in for the first time, he memorizes it all. his strokes are always agonizingly slow, deep, claiming, but the more you both get into it the more rough he’d get, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing to him.

“you already came twice baby, i know you’ve got one more left in you.”

minho:

pretends that he doesn’t care (spoiler: he 100% does), he jerks off to the idea of being your first more than he’d admit. especially when you’re looking up at him with those big, doey eyes, lip trembling, legs spread but uncertain— he makes you say it, “i don’t know what i’m doing.” you’ve told him that you’ve never watched porn before and have rarely ever touched yourself, you were a novice, but that’s what he’s here for, to teach you the ropes ! he corrupts you deliberately, one filthy lesson at a time. first lesson? how to suck him off. second? riding until your thighs give out. third? letting him film you crying around his cock. he’s now become fully obsessed with stripping you of your purity, shaping you into the perfect little slut just for him. can’t help but smirk as you beg for more, knowing he’s the reason for turning you into this.

“look at you— used to be so innocent. now you’re drooling on my cock like it’s all you’ve ever known. and it is, isn’t it? ‘cause i made you this way.”

seungmin:

is completely deadpan. quiet, yet dangerous. he acts unimpressed until you’re crying from just taking his fingers. then he’s leans close, voice low, and says, “you really don’t know a thing, do you?” he thrives off being the one to show you. the only one. has you arching off the sheets just from his mouth with the most smug look on his face at how easily you come apart. he doesn’t just teach, he literally reprograms you. makes sure no one else will ever satisfy you again. just watches with dark eyes as you stammer through every new sensation, feeling so overwhelmed and desperate, too shy to even say his name without whimpering ;( makes you go crazy from the way he touches you slowly, taking his sweet sweet time with you like he’s got all day bc if he’s gonna ruin you, he’s gonna relish in it. calls it “training” when he makes you practice sucking him off until your throat burns, when he fingers you for hours just to watch your mind melt from how overstimulated you are. records you babbling nonsense while your legs shake as proof that you belong to him now; have you crying, clinging to him, begging to cum again.

“good girl. you’ll take whatever i give you, yeah? ‘cause i’m the only one who knows what you need.”

changbin:

he’s your coach, absolutely loves teaching !! makes it interactive. pushes two fingers into your sopping cunt and says, “now clench. hold it. yeah, like that.” he takes utmost pride in watching you learn, fucking you in different positions until you find the one that makes you scream. makes you cum over and over again just so you understand your body better. he’s so proud of the mess he makes out of you <3 talks you through it like he’s guiding a workout— except you’re trembling, soaked, tears streaming down your cheeks bc it’s soso much but he’s still not done. makes you mirror everything he does when he eats you out, wants to hear you use your big girl words and tell him what it feels like. spreads your thighs wider with every session, the pad of his thumb circling your clit nice n slow just to watch you squirm from the simplest touches. he gets off on your innocence, gets harder every time you ask, “is this okay..?” bc it means there’s still more to ruin. makes you sit in his lap and bounce until your legs give out from shaking and your voice breaks from how many times you’ve begged. he won’t stop until your body responds to only him, trained and wrecked to perfection, even when you’re dazed, drooling, and completely fucked out.

“told you i’d make a good girl outta you, we’re just getting started.”

hyunjin:

sensual, slow, & obsessed. he calls you “innocent” like it’s your name. thinks it’s the cutest shit ever how shy you get when he’s got your legs sprawled and whispers where everything is. fingers you while describing in grave detail how he’ll fuck you and makes you repeat it back to him. “say it, baby. tell me what i taught you.” he corrupts you with elegance, artful degradation, slow-melting kisses between instruction. every night becoming another slowburn chapter in your ruin. he memorizes every little reaction, every gasp, every twitch, every time your breath catches when his lips brush your ear. he keeps you perched prettily on his cock, producing slow, diluted strokes at first, watching your brows pinch and your thighs quiver, whispering all the dirty shit he wants to do to you in a reverent tone like he’s reading poetry. paints bruises down your throat like he’s leaving his signature. tells you what a masterpiece you’ve become under his hands. won’t let you cover your face when you start to cry, he wants to witness it all. wants to see beg with those soft, needy whines that he loves as he holds your hips still and fucks you through another orgasm, praising how well you’re taking it, how much you’ve changed, won’t stop ‘til you’re boneless and spent, tear-streaked and writhing in his arms.

“you used to blush when i kissed you, but now look at you, ruined and addicted. all mine.”

jisung:

he lives for the fact that he’s your first. the way your whole body shudders just from him breathing on your cunt. how every moan you let out sounds like pure heaven to him— raw, unsure, and desperate. he’s obsessed with how new you are to everything, fingers soaked from just teaching you how to grind properly. “good girl, just like that- fuck, you’re learning so fast.” he craves to taint your innocence than anything else, saying all types of nasty shit as he makes you beg to cum for the first time. he corrupts you sweetly, patiently; until you’re reduced to nothing but a cockdrunk and clingy mess. he likes it best when you’re shy about wanting more, when you squirm under his gaze and whisper that something feels weird, and he has to gently coax you through it, telling you it’s completely normal. lets you ride his cock for the first time with your hands on his chest, telling you exactly how to move. gets so hard watching you unravel from the smallest things, his thumb on your clit, a filthy word in your ear, the soft drag of his tongue over your nipples. adores how overwhelmed you get, how easy it is to ruin you with nothing but gentle pressure and a few well-placed moans. your innocence is like a drug to him, and he’ll spend all night undoing it, slowly and thoroughly, until the only thing left of you is the pretty little mess he’s created.

“you’ll never come this hard for anyone else, baby. they didn’t break you in— i did.”

felix:

surprisingly filthy. like he’s the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever in public but when it’s just you two? yeah, that’s a whole different story. that first hit of dopamine fucks him up when he finally gets a taste of you, the way your body twitches from the first brush of his tongue, he already knows he’s gonna be addicted to your pussy. he worships every shaky moan, every uncertain grind of your hips, loving how easy it is to mold you. showers you with praises while he breaks you, tells you how perfect you look when you’re so lost in pleasure you’ve never felt before. treats your virginity like a gift, but one he fully intends to unwrap, piece by piece. kisses you slow and deep while his fingers slip lower and lower, letting you get used to every inch of him before he gives you more. he coos over every nervous whimper, smiles when you get too overwhelmed to form proper words bc it means he’s doing his job right. his cock swells in size the more you cling to him, eyes glossy, lips jutting out as you beg for something you don’t even have the words for. takes his time stretching you open, his husky, commanding baritones in your ear telling you how good you’re being, how proud he is that you’re letting him ruin you. and when you’re spread out beneath him, flushed and trembling, you’re so far gone that all your shyness sheds away.

“you’re so sensitive, angel. no one’s ever touched you here like this, huh?”

jeongin:

a total freak in denial. like he’s shy and gets all blushy when you call him your first, but the moment he realizes you’re letting him guide you? a switch flips in his horny brain. he’ll make you touch yourself in front of him first, watching you intently, fingers gripping the base of his thick cock as he corrects your movements with breathy commands. is all red-faced and whimpery when he finally fucks you, drunk off the way your pussy swallows him whole every time he thrusts in a little deeper. gets a little timid when he tries to talk you through it all, voice shaky but firm— tells you where to place your hands, how to tilt your hips, what to say when you want more. just can’t help but get so worked up by you, overwhelmed and messy, looking up at him like he’s the only one who’s ever made you feel this way. feels kinda bad for how much he loves it when you cry a little from how good it feels, when you babble that you don’t know what’s happening and he gets to say, “it’s okay, baby… i’ve got you. just let me teach you.” drinking in the scenery of you falling apart under him, frenzied and blissed out for the first time.

“no one else gets to have you like this, yeah? i’m the one who ruined you.”

[karikarasuno]

part eight | part nine | wc: 4.4k | semi-public oral sex (again but this time m!receiving)

“I got somethin’ that belongs to you.” Ace hears Marco say from where he’s crouched behind the DJ booth fixing some wiring for Usopp. But before he can stand his hat lands on the ground beside him.

“It’s bad manners throwin’ a man’s hat on the floor,” Ace chides as he plucks it from where it sits and dusts it off. It takes him a second to remember where he left it, and when the memory hits him a blush that he has no control over settles across his cheeks. You make him feel so young. Which is an odd sensation for Ace since he’s never really known what it was like to be youthful. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t go too hard on Luffy when he makes mistakes. It’s hard growing up when you’re not ready for it. He knows better than anyone else what that’s like. 

But this is different. You excite him in a childlike way. Ace has never really had a crush before. It seems so juvenile to describe his feelings for you in that way. But it’s the only thing that makes sense to him. 

“Whatever you were doin’ in the storage room was probably bad manners,” Marco responds, snapping Ace out of the memory of you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he feigns ignorance. Better to play a fool then give away more than anyone needs to know. 

“Right,” Marco scoffs with a shake of his head. Ace watches him think for a second. He knows Marco well enough to see that he has more to say, but he’s choosing his words carefully. It always worries Ace when he can see the gears turning in his head because it usually means whatever he has to say Ace isn’t gonna be too big a fan of. 

“Tell me one thing,” he finally says, arms crossing over his chest as he meets Ace’s eyes intently. “This thing you got goin’ on, is it serious?”

Ace sighs. It falls heavily from his lips as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is everyone so pressed about my love life?”

“Well for one, I’m nosey,” Marco says casually with a small knowing smile playing on his lips. “And y’know, we just want what’s best for ya.”

Ace has to suppress an eye roll. Agitation flares in his chest in an uncomfortable way. In a way he’s not entirely used to. “I’m a grown man capable of making my own decisions, but thanks for your concern.”

He turns away hoping that’s the end of the conversation because it’s one he’s not too keen on having. But his life doesn’t really work out in the ways that he wants it to. 

“I never said you weren’t,” Marco argues, tone even and calm. Which annoys Ace even more. “I just worry about you, kid. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

“Why would you assume I’m gonna get hurt? I like her. This shit is new. Obviously we’re still figuring it out,” Ace huffs out. He can feel his blood pressure rise and a warmth that makes his skin crawl starts to take over. 

“I’m just sayin’ ever since you came back you’ve been different,” Marco explains, throwing his hands up in surrender. “And I just wanna make sure you’re good. You don’t talk to me like you used to and I respect that. You’re a grown man after all,” he throws Ace’s words back in his face, “but that doesn’t mean I stopped carin’.”

Ace puts down his tools and tosses his hat on a nearby table. He doesn’t like talking about what happened in the city. He hasn’t talked to anyone about it actually. Besides Sabo, who was there. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve been distant,” Ace says, shoulders sagging slightly. “It’s just…”

Sabo’s scar fills Ace’s mind. The weight of guilt bears down on him so intensely most days it’s difficult for Ace to pull air into his lungs. His sleep is restless. His dreams are haunting. It’s been years but the memories of that night have yet to fade. Sabo told him not to go to the underground fight, but they owed Ace money. Sabo said it was a set up, but in his youth Ace was a stubborn idiot. Prone to irrationality especially when he felt disrespected. Sabo would probably still have vision in his left eye if he didn’t protect him that night. The dumbass nearly took a bullet straight to the face for him. The shrapnel ended up bursting right in front of his face, though, when he pushed Ace out of the way. 

Ace still hasn’t fully forgiven himself for it. It seems like tragedy follows him everywhere. Even when he tries to escape it. 

“Yeah,” he says at last, “I think it is serious. With her.”

He finally looks up at Marco and he visibly softens. His eyes are glowing with a fondness that makes Ace almost uncomfortable. It could nearly be mistaken for pity. But Ace knows better. 

“Good,” Marco nods resolutely. “Now Whitebeard can stop houndin’ me about it.”

“He isn’t,” Ace responds, taken aback by Whitebeard’s interest. 

“It’s about time for Ace to settle down. The boy ain’t gon be young forever. And she seems like a sweet girl too,” Marco’s impression of Whitebeard is perfect. So perfect that Ace folds over with a laugh and covers his face with his hand. It’s nice to know that people care. It satisfies him in a way words can’t really describe. 

“Guess I should probably take her out again then,” Ace smiles, his mind already drifting off to where he wants to take you. What he wants to do with you. 

****

“Hello?” You answer on the first ring. Which strokes his ego more than he’d like to admit. 

“Hey there, jailbird. How’s freedom tastin’?” He teases, grinning to himself as he holds his phone up to his ear. 

“Will you ever let me live that down?” He hears you huff out a small laugh, which lights his chest up with affection. “Because if my memory serves me I’m not the only one who’s served time in this little group of ours.”

“Very true.”

“But to answer your question, freedom tastes sweet. Peachy,” you joke and he can hear how proud you are of yourself in the way you giggle. He finds it incredibly endearing the way you make yourself laugh. 

“Glad to hear it because I got a question for you,” he says, leaning against his truck after he tosses his tools in the backseat. 

“Should I be worried?” You ask hesitantly. Rightfully skeptical since everyone in this town always seems to be up to no good. 

“Not at all,” he chuckles, “I was just wonderin’ if you were free tonight.”

“That depends. What do you have in mind?”

“You, me, and a drive-in movie,” he answers, giddy excitement rushing through him at the thought of spending more time with you. 

“What is it with you and getting me alone in a truck?” You ask cheekily, and he can just see the smile you’re wearing through the phone. It’s fun. The little game of cat and mouse the two of you are playing. He especially enjoys when that game leads the two of you into dark corners. Where you typically let him have his way with you. Not that that’s his intention. For the most part. 

“If I’m rememberin’ correctly that first time was all you,” he says, biting his bottom lip to keep the grin from splitting his face. He wishes he could see your face right now. He’s sure you’re rolling your eyes at him, but you still blush. You always do. 

“I blame the free shots and adrenaline,” you deflect easily. “But to answer your original question, I am free tonight.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at eight, then.”

Oddly enough, Ace is nervous. Like ‘sweaty palms and racing pulse’ nervous. And he doesn’t really know why, but as he gets closer to your house he feels himself grow restless. Fidgety. There’s a strange pressure he’s feeling. Like at any second he could fuck this up. He blames Marco for that. Their conversation this morning has created a shadow Ace can’t seem to get rid of. One that compounds every mistake he’s ever made. One that whispers to him that he’ll inevitably make another one and lose you too. But he’s aware that things with you are too new to mess up. You’re barely on your second date and he’s already overthinking this. 

He takes a deep breath as he pulls into the short dirt road that leads to your house. You have your porch light on and he notices you added a few plants to the porch and a bench right beneath the window that looks into your kitchen. The sight is so distinctly you that Ace feels the breath he takes fill his lungs easier. And when he watches the way you excitedly walk through your front door his worries ease. The tightness that was previously in his chest travels down to his jeans though when you turn around to lock your door and he sees the way your shorts hug your ass. It’s concerning how attracted he is to you. How much of a distraction you’ve become for him. 

He hops out the truck the closer you get. You’re also wearing a thin poncho that drapes over your shoulders and sways around your torso. You make the simplest things tantalizing. It’s really becoming a problem for him. 

“New ride?” You ask, leaning up to kiss his cheek when you’re close enough. He feels his cheeks burn but he ignores it. 

“No, just new to you,” he answers, slipping his hand into yours to lead you to the passenger side. 

“It’s bigger than your usual truck,” you comment, stepping on the side rail when he opens the door for you to climb in. 

“Figured it would be comfier to watch a movie in.” He grabs the seat belt and buckles you in. He feels your breath kiss his ear and goosebumps tickle his neck. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to get this close to you if he’s planning on surviving the evening with you without making a move. 

“That’s why you have the middle seat up?” He can see your sneaky smile from the corner of his eye as the seat belt clicks into place. When he glances at you, your eyes are bright. Tempting him. “For comfort.”

“I also got a blanket in the back if you get cold.” His fingers ghost over your bare thigh. He told himself he’d behave tonight. But when he looks at you he thinks you might have other plans. 

“I’m sure I won’t need it given how hot you run.” 

He chuckles. Flirting with you is so easy. Natural. “Sabo says I’m like a furnace. I usually can’t even stand wearin’ a shirt most days.” 

“I’ve never seen you without one.” Your lips form a pout, one that punches him in the gut with the urge to kiss it right off of you. “Kinda unfair if you ask me.” 

“Maybe later,” he leans in close, until your noses touch, “if you’re lucky.” 

He hears you laugh softly as he steps away from the passenger seat and shuts your door. He bites down a smile of his own as he rounds the hood and his nerves, the ones that were trampling his lungs not too long ago, morph into something with wings. Something that makes him feel lighter than he ever has. 

****

“So where exactly are we going?” You ask after about twenty minutes as he merges onto the highway.

“The closest drive-in is in Alabasta,” he answers. “Another ten minutes and we’ll be there.”

“I’ve never been.” You peer out the window and your hands fiddle with the ends of your poncho as you do. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s nervous. The idea of you sharing a feeling as benign as that makes his fingers itch to touch you. They spasm around the steering wheel. And he’s so distracted by the thought of you beneath his touch he almost misses the exit. He jerks into the right lane unexpectedly and your body flattens against the door. You let out a short yelp when your shoulder meets the window and when he finally straightens out the glare you give him sends a shiver of amusement down his spine. 

“Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “I should’ve warned you.”

“You think.” You slap his arm, but there’s no real power in your swing. He flinches anyway, releasing an exaggerated “ouch” until you smile at him. 

“What movie are we even watching?” You cross your arms across your chest and straighten in your seat. Entirely too far away from him for his liking. 

“I haven’t got a clue.” He only managed to check the times earlier before he called you. Not really giving a damn what was playing to begin with. 

“Didn’t you check beforehand?” You ask, throwing your hands in the air. 

“Wasn’t my priority at the time,” he answers, making a left into the movie lot. 

“And what was?” Your brows furrow and your nose scrunches in a way that makes you look cuter than you have any business being. 

“Gettin’ you alone in my truck, obviously.” He winks at you, rolling down his window to ask the attendant for two tickets. He hands them to you after he pays, thanking the young kid as he drives off. He finds a spot near the back in a patch of grass. It’s the only area where he has enough space to park this truck. But it’s also private. Intimate. It makes him feel like it really is just the two of you. 

“So, I got popcorn, beer,” he reaches around to open the cooler that’s sitting on the floor of the backseat, “those seltzers Sabo says girls like.”

You chuckle when he pulls one out and gives it to you, snatching a beer for himself. “And sour gummies or peanut m&ms if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ sweet later.”

“I’ll actually take those m&ms now, please.” 

“Ah, dessert first?” He tosses the box at you and it lands on your lap. 

“Always.”

****

“How dark is your window tint?” The question rings as strange, random, when it falls from your lips. The movie is about half an hour in and you’ve managed to wiggle your way into the center seat, curling into his side. 

“Dark enough for Garp to ticket me every time he catches me drivin’ it round town.” He eats a handful of popcorn as he eyes you skeptically. You fold your legs onto the seat, angling yourself so that your face tilts directly up to him. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” you shrug, inching closer to him. Your perfume fully invades his space. He swallows quickly. Anticipating a kiss. But your head drops to his shoulder and your hand wanders from your knee to his. 

“I’ve been thinking,” your fingers skirt slowly up his inner thigh and even though he can’t feel your fingertips through the thick denim, his skin still chills beneath your attention. “I should return the favor for the other night.”

“What night?” He asks absentmindedly. Your hand is distracting as it creeps closer to the zipper of his jeans. 

“Ace,” you say firmly yet with a wistfulness that makes his heart stutter. You avert your gaze from your hand and look at him. Your hand pauses on his upper thigh and he already feels himself stir in his pants. It’s a little quicker than he’s used to but he really can’t help it. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your words ghost across his lips. His brain buffers. Your fingers curve around his belt buckle. “Can I…?”

“Can you what?” He wants to push you. He needs to hear you actually ask for it. He sets down the bag of popcorn somewhere at his side. His mind solely focused on the insinuation of your words. He knows what you want to ask but even if he didn’t he’d probably say yes. He struggles foreseeing an outcome where he doesn’t say yes to you. 

“Can I… taste you?” Your voice is quiet, sincere. Hesitant. His hand caresses your cheek and pulls you closer. Practically kissing you when he asks “where?” 

You tug on his belt, the buckle clattering when it loosens around his hips. You fit your lips to his and he’s tense. His whole body is wound up tight. Painful. It’s taking every ounce of restraint he has not to pounce on you like an animal. 

“I was thinking here.” You pop the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. Your fingers slip into his pants until you’re cupping his erection. He’s impossibly hard at this point. He’s been craving you ever since your stint in the storage closet. He’s stroked his cock to the thought of you coming on his tongue more times than he can count in the last few days. In the morning before he even opens his eyes. In the shower after a long day. 

“Only if you want me to,” you whisper, your lips stretching against his in what he knows is a smile. One that suggests you already know his answer. 

“I would want nothin’ more than to feel your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” You gasp. Your lips part and your fingers tighten around his shaft. His groan rumbles in his chest from the pressure of your hand. 

“Jesus, Ace,” you sigh, smearing your lips across his cheek until your face rests in the crook of his neck. Your hand softly strokes him, but the way your palm digs into him has him leaking. He wants you so terribly he’s surprised he isn’t shaking from his self control. “You really just say anything.” 

He chuckles darkly, breathlessly, as his head falls back on to the headrest. It allows you to drag your lips down his neck. Pressing tender kisses down his collarbone until your teeth graze the collar of his shirt.  

“Would you prefer it if I shut up?” He jokes, but the words hold too much air to be heavy. To hold any real weight because you shift further away from him. And he’d be bothered over the distance, but not when you pepper kisses down his torso. He can feel the heat of each one burn through the fabric of his top. He twitches in your grasp. 

“No,” you say once you reach the waistband of his jeans, working them gently down until he’s finally exposed to you, “I like hearing you.” 

Ace’s inhale gets caught somewhere between his lungs and throat. Your lips wrap around his head and the warmth of your mouth has his hips flexing. Itching to move. But he keeps them still as your tongue slips from between your lips. Wetting him. Exploring him. 

“Fuck, ok.” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to touch you but he can’t bring himself to cross that line because once his hands are on you he’ll be too tempted to pull you off of him. To push you down onto your back and beg you to let him fuck you. There’s more space in this truck for him to feel you the way he wants. The way he cannot stop imagining. 

You hum around his dick as you sink down and swallow. One of his hands shoots out to grip the steering wheel. He can’t breathe. Especially when you start bobbing your head and fisting him as your spit leaks from your lips, soaking him. He’s having a tough time connecting his imagination to his reality. You’ve been the subject of his fantasies the moment he watched you for the first time on the dance floor at Whitebeard’s. He’s never needed anyone as badly as he needs you. 

The audio from the movie warbles through his speakers and through his ears. He can’t focus on it or the scene playing out in front of him. Not when his vision blurs and sound is muffled by how heavy and dense his breaths are. 

You pop off of him briefly, your free hand clutching his thigh. His cock glistens in the minimal light that filters through his windshield. And when you angle your face to lick up the length of him, he catches the way your chin shines as well. Salacious. Beautiful. 

God, he can’t stand it. His hand finds the back of your neck once you start sucking again. And you moan. It’s more of a whine as it crawls up your throat and travels down to his base. 

“Shit, that feels…” His words die in his throat as his grip tightens involuntarily and another small noise catches in your throat. 

“You like that?” His pulse is racing and his heart thuds recklessly in his chest. You surprise him. Every time he tries to be tender, sweet, gentle with you you ask for more. Something rougher. Harsher. The realization alone makes his stomach dip low with pleasure. With a heat he cannot control. 

Your nod is enough of an answer for him. He holds you tighter as your movements pick up the pace. He’s gonna come. You’re gonna make him come and his restraint frays at the edges. His hips jolt, forcing him further into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you gag around him, but you don’t stop. It’s becoming too much. He’s suffocating. 

“That’s it,” he groans. His abs tense as his orgasm builds aggressively in his gut. “Fuck, baby, m’gonna-“

His words are stolen from him. His warning barely tumbles from his lips as he finishes inside your mouth. He has to smother his moan into his shoulder in an attempt to quiet the sound. It's difficult though when you swallow down his release eagerly. Your hand is still pumping him until he’s drained. Sensitive. 

When you pull back, the first thing he notices is how smudged your mascara is beneath your eyes. And your eyes glow with unshed tears. Your lips are swollen and even though he’s still reeling, it doesn’t stop the urge he has to kiss you. And you must notice the way his eyes cling to the sight because you part them to reveal the last traces of his cum pooling on your tongue. 

“You’re tryin’ to give me a heart attack, aren’t you?” But he doesn’t actually give you a chance to answer because he’s already pulling you into him. Kissing you. Tasting himself on your tongue yet he still tastes the sweet remnants of your lip gloss. 

Ace nearly tugs you into his lap. Already ready for another go. This time for you. To make you feel as good as you just made him feel. But you push away from him. He doesn’t wanna let you go, but your hands are firm as they press you away from his chest. 

“Let’s finish the movie,” you say, breathing hard but smiling at him. So much fonder than he expects for the moment you just had. 

“I’ve already seen it,” he replies, reaching for you again.

“Yeah, but I haven’t,” you laugh and swat his hands away. 

“You missed half of it,” he argues, watching as you twist to grab the blanket in his back seat. 

“Then catch me up,” you say, unfolding the blanket to cover your laps. Beneath the blanket your hands tuck him back into his pants before you turn your attention back to the screen. Even going as far as turning the volume up in an attempt to tune out his retorts. “Now pass me the popcorn.” 

Ace, no matter how hard he tries, cannot wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the night. And you don’t help his case either. Your walls are completely down and he thought he knew you before, but now he realizes how silly you can be. How chatty you are. He explained the movie to you but it ended up being pointless with you just talking through the ending. He didn’t mind though. You settle him in an oddly familiar way. He can’t quite put his finger on why that is, but he’d be stupid to question it. To overthink it to death. To make it out to be something that it’s not. 

“I had fun tonight,” you say as he drives up to your house. “Thanks for inviting me out.”

“No need to thank me,” he shakes his head, parking a few feet from your porch steps. It’s dark out and even though your porch is illuminated, he still decides to walk you to your door. Like a gentleman. 

“I’m serious.” He meets you on the passenger side and extends his hand to help you jump out. “We should do this again sometime. And maybe get out of the car next time.” 

“I should be able to make that happen,” he says, intertwining your fingers as you lead him to your front door. He won’t ask to see you tomorrow, afraid that it will be too forward, but that doesn’t stop him from spinning you towards him once you reach your door. Pressing your body to his in the hopes that this won’t be the last time he touches you tonight. “Before that, though, you should invite me in.”

“No way,” you laugh and try to wiggle away from him, but his hold on you tightens. “Not tonight.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. I owe you one.” He almost tacks on a please for good measure. Ace isn’t above begging. Especially if it leads to him between your legs again. 

“I can handle that for tonight.” You manage to wedge some space between your bodies, skipping heedlessly away from him. 

“Ugh, don’t tell me that.” His head falls forward in distress. Now all he can imagine is you alone in bed. Fingers nestled between your thighs and hopefully his name dripping candied from your tongue. 

“Tomorrow we’re meeting at Sanji’s for some breakfast,” you change the subject swiftly, twisting your key in the lock. “If you’d like to join us.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He loops a finger into one of the holes on your poncho. When he goes in for a kiss, you meet him halfway. He intends for it to be longer, more persuasive than it is. But your intentions are innocent. Your lips press to his warmly, romantic. 

“8:30,” you smile a breath away from his lips. “Don’t be late.”

taglist: @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @nico-ith @chillerkiller @jozhenji @starchild-unnamed @certain-tragedies @hannahbarberra162 @kanekisheart @stuckinmymind22 @greenbnny@kimkat1822, @purplefluffycows @insomniacvoidsstuff

[blueskittlesart]

Dear Big Brother

kind of a sequel to this comic

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[deoidesign]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

[manmuncher777]

WHINY CHOSO WHINY CHOSO WHINY CHOSO

‘Please baby, I’ll be quick. They wont even notice we left.”

Choso’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear as his begging continued. Warm breath tinged with pitchy whines for only you to hear. His hands resting on your thigh under the blanket as you sat in your friends apartment, you had come over for a night of drinks and chat. But alcohol seemed to do one thing and one thing only to choso, make him increadibly horny. Absolutely insatiable. You were lucky it had gotten to the point where groups had broken off to have conversations, leaving you and choso sat on a couch.

So now you had your gorgeous boyfriend, flushing in the face and glossy eyes begging to whisk you away and fuck you. And you found it harder and harder to turn him down with each promise he made you.

“Please baby, I don’t even need to fuck you. Just wanna feel you so bad.” The grip on your thigh tightening with desperation. You did your best to stay nochelant, hand stroking the back of his neck, hoping that maybe it might act as some sort of soothing agent for him, but little did you know your touch was only making things worse for him. The way your perfume wafted to his nose with over stroked to his neck, the feeling of your nails as they ran over his skin, it had his spine tingling and his mind running with need.

“You know you want to…” his tattooed hand rising further and further up your leg, and you suddenly became grateful for the blanket concealing his actions

“Cho…” you tried to reason with him, but it was no use, his mind was set on you, and nothing was going to stop him.

“You know you want me to baby, I’ll let you use me in any way you want.” His eyes never leaving your face, trying to gauge if he was wearing down your resolve at all, pulling out his best tricks. “You can have my mouth if you want….” His hand diving underneath your skirt, trailing your inner thigh. “My fingers…” your mind whirring with thoughts, filthy thoughts about what would happen if you jjst gave in, if you just left. You could feel yourself flushing with his every move, getting more and more overwhelmed. His voice barely a whisper, only to be hear by you. His whiney tone gracing your ears with each word.

“My dick… anything you want baby, im all yours.`’

Well shit.

Looks like he’d won this battle, with his final sentence his fingers resting over your soaked panties - unmoving, only applying a cruel ammount of pressure. You couldn’t take much more of his teasing, it might seem like he was the only desperate one, but you had been trying so hard to keep your resolve and not just stay home with him the whole night. But that plan had gone out the window, and now you were dragging this huge man by the hand behind you as you gave a hurried goodbye to your friends.

You were frustrated, fuck him for teasing you the whole night, getting you all worked up when you were trying so hard to have one night with friends that wasnt cut short by you two leaving to go fuck. But fo course his sexy fucking voice and gorgeous face just had to go and ruin that for you again. Dragging him into your appartment, brushing him with kisses as you let out all your frustrations on him. And he was more than happy to take it, swallowing each kiss with just as much passion. Falling onto the bed when your pushed him onto it, watching intently as you stripped yourself, climbing on top of his chisled body.

Second nature his hands went to fly to your hips, to grip the soft skin he loved so much. But he was stopped. Your hands holding his wrists and pinning them onto the bed. Confusion graced his features as he stared up at you.

“What was it you said baby? I could use you?” Your voice ringing sickly sweet, but choso could tell there was malice behind those eyes. He knew you were pissed at him, so he was just going to have to fuck that out of you.

At least thats what he was thinking, and while he was thinking that he failed to notice the handcuffs being placed around his wrists and the bed posts. snapping his head up to look at his restraints in frustration, tugging against the chain, hoping they would break. To no avail.

“What’s wrong Cho, this is what you were begging me for earlier?” Your voice ringing smirk, hands brushing up and down his body, avoiding the area where he needed you most, his shockingly hard cock standing tall, but you refusing to acknowledge its presence, instead running your nails along his skin, watching as red marks awake.

‘T-this isn’t quite what I had in mind- wanna be able to touch you.” That familiar whine once again leaving him, but you werent going to fall for it this time. Touch luck for him

“Well maybe you should’ve thought about that before you were a horny bastard all evening”

True, he did bring this on himself. But he couldn’t help it when you were sat there so close to him, smelling and looking so good.

But now he was sorely regretting his actions. Watching you helplessly as you finally start paying some attention to his leaking cock, wrapping your hard around his base as you leave little kisses on his pretty pink tip. His precum coating your lips with every kiss you left.

That gentle touch had him bucking his hips, straining to meet your lips. His hands tugging on his restraints, begging to be able to touch you, to run his hands through your hair as he guides your mouth onto his cock.

But you werent feeling that nice, shuffling up his body, straddling him. Your bare body illuminated by your bedside lamp as you rubbed your cunt over his length. Not ever letting in slip in. Just a simple rock of your hips. Coating him in your wetness. Pulling pathetic moans from him as you went. Your warm cunt brushing over his tip, allowing it to bump your clit every thrust. You truly were just using him in this moment. Goosebumps prickling over your skin as faint waves of pleasure started to flow through you. The slick sounds of your pussy audible as he slid through your folds.

“F-fuck~ baby im so sorry. Please” you had hardly even started and sweat was already starting to glisten on his perfect skin, tufts of dark hair clinging to his forehead as he strained. Not giving up on his attempt to touch you. To do anything. This wasn’t enough. He needed to feel you.

Choso was wrecked.

His wrists pulled against the cuffs, his arms flexing as he tried—really tried—not to lose his mind. But the way you were straddling him, bare, your warm, soaked cunt dragging over his cock in slow, torturous rolls of your hips? It was killing him.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice thick, wrecked with need. His fingers twitched uselessly against the restraints. “Please, baby, I—fuck, I need you.

You hummed, deliberately shifting your hips just enough to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance before lifting yourself off him again. “You need me?” you mused, tilting your head, pretending to think. “That’s funny. Because you were the one begging me all night, acting like you’d do anything just to get inside me.”

Choso groaned, his head pressing back into the pillows, his jaw clenched as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I would,” he swore, his eyes dark and pleading, half-lidded with frustration. “I will—just, please—fuck, just let me—”. It was almost laughable how desperate he was, how worked up he was getting. Part of you felt a little guilty as you watched his flushed face strain with ever movement you made. But he needed to know his place, and this was exactly where he belonged. Underneath you, pathetic. Eyes glossy and dark hair messy.

You rolled your hips again, letting his cock slide between your folds, slick and achingly close to where he wanted to be, where he needed to be. His whole body shuddered, his fingers curling into fists as he let out the most pitiful, desperate sound.

“Shit—” he gasped, his hips jerking up involuntarily, trying to chase the heat, trying to bury himself inside you—but the cuffs kept him in place, kept him helpless beneath you. “Baby, please—I can’t—fuck, I can’t—”

You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, sweet as sin, “You can’t what?”

Choso let out a broken noise, his breath stuttering. “I can’t—I need you. I can’t take it anymore,” he admitted, voice cracking, all pride lost to the unbearable need consuming him. “Please, baby—I’ll be good, I promise, just—fuck, just let me inside you.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, and the sheer desperation in his eyes sent a fresh wave of heat through your core.

“Well,” you mused, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, watching the way he shivered beneath you. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Then, finally—finally—you sank down onto him, inch by agonizing inch.

And the way Choso whined, his entire body trembling as he let out the most guttural, relieved, wrecked moan?

It was so worth making him wait

Choso was gone.

His wrists still pulled weakly against the cuffs, he couldn’t find it in himself to even thing about the red marks it was causing his skin to form, his body trembling beneath you, his face flushed and damp with sweat as he let out the most wrecked sounds—deep, needy, helpless.

“F-fuck—” he gasped, his voice cracking as you rode him mercilessly, taking what you wanted, using him like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. His cock twitched inside you, overstimulated, aching, so close to falling apart, but he didn’t want it to end—he never wanted it to end.

“You’re taking it so well, baby,” you cooed, your nails dragging down his chest, leaving faint red trails in their wake. “Letting me use you like this—just lying there and taking it like a good boy.”

Choso whimpered, his arms flexing as he pulled against the cuffs again, pure instinct telling him to grab your waist, to pull you down, to beg you to keep going, never stop—

“Please,” he choked out, his voice strained, his hips jerking up in weak, desperate little thrusts. “Please, baby—I wanna come, please—” he didn’t care how he sounded, how desperate the begging was. He couldn’t hold back, not with the way your velvety walls were dragging over him. His bulbous tip presseing deep inside of you every time you lowered yourself, back arching at how deep he was, but you couldn’t let him see how good he was making you feel, as much as you wanted to collapse against him, you couldn’t.

You slowed, rolling your hips in deep, languid strokes, feeling the way he shuddered beneath you, his breath hitching, his thighs trembling. “Want me to let you come, baby?” you murmured, dragging your nails up his ribs, feeling the way his stomach tensed under your touch. Throbbing inside of you at your sensual words, his hips tying their best to meet your cruel bouncing.

“Yes—yes, please—” You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Then be a good boy and give it to me.”

That was it. Choso broke.

His whole body tensed, his breath catching in his throat before he let out the neediest, most pathetic moan as he came, spilling inside you, his arms straining against the cuffs, his hips jerking helplessly. “F-fuck—fuck, baby—oh my god—”

You didn’t stop—not right away. You rode him through it, milking every last shudder, every last gasp, making him feel it, making him take it.

By the time you finally slowed, Choso was a mess—his chest heaving, his skin flushed, his lips parted as he blinked up at you in complete awe.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, dazed, his voice wrecked. His wrists flexed against the cuffs again, weakly this time, as if he desperately wanted to touch you but didn’t have the strength to ask. “I—I love you so much,” he slurred, breathless, still trying to catch up with reality. “Thank you.”

You laughed softly, trailing your fingers over his jaw before leaning in to kiss him, slow and deep, swallowing the little whimper he let out as you did.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” you murmured against his lips, reminding yourself to make more plans with friends soon, you quite enjoyed this outcome.

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.

It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.

You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.

Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”

So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.

Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 

“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.

“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.

You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.

By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.

And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?

As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.

With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 

“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”

Or so you thought.

Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.

You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.

“Need help with that?”

“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.

Except...then you did.

You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.

You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.

But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 

SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.

“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.

“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.

“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”

You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.

But, against your better judgment���and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.

“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.

“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”

Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!

But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”

As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.

I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.

The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.

Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—

You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.

But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.

You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.

A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.

You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.

Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?

With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.

“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.

And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”

You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.

The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.

But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.

As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.

“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.

× × × ×

Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.

It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.

You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?

Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.

You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.

Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.

You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.

“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”

“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.

But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 

“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”

“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”

“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.

But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 

“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.

You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 

“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.

Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”

Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.

By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.

And then… the grocery bag incident.

You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.

You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.

You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.

You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 

“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.

He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.

“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.

“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”

A moment of silence.

“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”

Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”

You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 

“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”

He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 

“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”

Your soul left your body.

He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 

“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 

And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.

“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.

The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.

Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.

You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 

You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.

Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.

You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.

× × × ×

It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.

The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”

You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 

“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.

The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.

“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”

You stammered, turning pink. 

“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.

But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.

You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 

“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.

“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”

But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.

“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”

Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.

“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”

“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.

You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.

“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”

You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 

“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.

“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”

He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.

Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.

“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”

You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”

× × × ×

Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.

There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.

He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.

“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.

“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”

You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 

“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.

“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”

He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”

“Oh no, really, I should—”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”

You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”

Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”

Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 

“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”

You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”

He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 

“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.

“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”

Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 

“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.

“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.

You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 

“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 

“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”

He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”

“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”

He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”

You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.

“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”

You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.

“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”

“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”

“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”

Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”

You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”

His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.

Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.

“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”

You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.

[thebibliosphere]

if this is too heavy to answer that's totally fine and you don't have to but

how do you keep going when the world is as awful as it is? it's getting harder for me to find reasons to do that because the US government clearly doesn't want me to live and I can't go anywhere else because I'm broke and disabled and so I just feel trapped and I've been in tears about it for the last hour.

and you've had to deal with so much more health bullshit than I ever have but you keep going and I just... how?

I hope this doesn’t come across as trite but in all sincerity: because I know there are other people out there fighting to keep folks like us alive because even though they don’t know us, probably won’t ever know us, they care for us anyway and want us to survive.

They might seem vanishingly few right now, but you need to remember, hatred is loud because it’s the only way these dipshits can be heard.

The people screaming the loudest right now? Are not in the majority. They are afraid of the progress that has been made over the last few decades and want to drag us back to a world where they feel in control. And to do that they need to be as loud and intimidating as possible because they are not the majority, they know they are not the majority, and that frightens them.

They’re playing a fascist game of chicken, hoping the rest of us will blink first, and I don’t pretend to know what’s going to happen. I won’t pretend I’m not terrified. That the things happening all over the world right now don’t feel hopeless and lost. But I refuse to blink first.

For myself. For you. For everyone.

And I take comfort in knowing I’m not the only one. I know I’m not. And I’m so incandescently furious at the state of the world right now that even just hearing some people speak makes my blood pressure spike so hard I syncope.

The last time I heard the vice president speak, my vision turned literally red then black and I woke up on the couch with a thudding headache and a heart doing its best to escape my rib cage.

But I pick myself up because I have no other choice, I take care of myself. I do what I can to avoid that level of overload. I avoid the news if I have to because there is a fine line at present between being informed and being overwhelmed. And then I go out of my way to be kind and help the people I can because it’s something I have control over and by god if I can make the world better for just one person, it’s worthwhile.

Take comfort in your people. Protect yourself and your community as best you can. Even if sometimes that means letting others comfort and take care of you for a bit.

I’m sorry you’re struggling so hard. But I promise you are not alone 💖

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[luveline]

hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?

You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 

“You okay?” 

You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 

Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 

“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 

You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 

You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 

Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 

“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.

“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 

Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 

“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 

You close your eyes. 

“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 

“Your hand is so big…” 

“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 

“Prove it.” 

He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 

Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 

“You’re teasing me,” you say. 

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 

“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 

“You look startled,” he murmurs. 

“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 

“I have?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Flirting.” 

“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 

“I’ve hit my head.” 

“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 

“You’ve hit your head.” 

He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 

“You’re kissing me.” 

He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 

“Would you want to do it again?” 

Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 

Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 

“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 

“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 

He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 

“You really love me?” 

He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  

“Well, is there much else to remember?” 

You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 

“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[randompiecesofwriting]

Your Side of the Bed

Summary: Robby finds himself in an arrangement of sharing the reader’s bed. Sleeping side by side in the most literal of senses. It was simply a way they could be there for one another, offer comfort on hard days. And yet he found himself wanting more.

Paring: Michael “Robinavitch” x reader

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: NO SMUT I don’t think it’s even joked about here lol so there’s no smut in here! Brief mention of suicide prevention measures in a joke. Reader gets a small cut and is freaked out by medical procedures.

A/N: Really this was born out of me just wanting to write some Robby fluff. I think I’m slowing down on my writing frenzy y’all so please don’t expect my previous schedule of nearly every other day story releases I’m sorry! All in all as always I just wrote what I thought I would want to read so I hope y’all enjoy it and as always let me know what you think!

You hadn’t expected the night to end the way it did when you left your job that evening.

And honestly there was no reason you should’ve, afterall you hardly knew the man.

Sure you’ve met Robby a few times before. Interacted with him enough to know what he did for a living but beyond basic elevator small talk you’ve never really spoken to the man.

So when you spotted him standing outside of his apartment, keys in hand, just staring down at them dejectedly you didn’t really have a plan when you opened your mouth. You just knew you recognized that look on his face, the way his hands shook, the way he stayed rooted in place even as the elevator dinged as you got out, and you wanted to help.

“Hey Robby” His head snapped up at the sound of his name, the way his eyes went wide at your voice telling you he truly hadn’t noticed your approach “just getting back?”

“Yeah” he sighed out the word, telling you more than you thought he really meant to, his gaze going back to his keys, reluctance on his face as his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Have you eaten yet?” The words basically tumbled out of you, the offer though made spontaneously was no less sincere “I’m just getting back too and was going to make something quick if you want to come in” and you could see the hesitance quickly building, the denial on every part of him but his lips “I was thinking pasta and I struggle to make anything less than four servings”

He seemed to pause at the joke, to take a second to reconsider. “It’s late I don’t want to impose”

You shook off the worry easily, moving past the man to your own door faking confidence he would follow “I promise you aren’t, besides I’ve kinda had a shit day so being alone doesn’t sound like a lot of fun right now”

It wasn’t a complete lie to be fair. Your day hadn’t been the best but more than anything you knew this man shouldn’t be alone right now and he wasn’t going to take help unless he could offer some in return.

“I should shower first” The implied acceptance had you smiling as he turned back to his door, you could practically see him hype himself up to go in.

“You can use mine” You offered, forcing a level of nonchalance you didn’t feel into your tone “no pressure obviously the dinner invitation stands either way  but since you’re going to be over anyways” you let the end of your sentence dangle purposefully as you shrugged “plus I don’t mean to brag but the landlord just fixed my plumbing so I have the best water pressure in the building”

Your attempt at a joke had him snorting as he cast one final look at his door before wordlessly turning away from it and heading in your direction, following you back to your place “If that’s true the landlord and I will be having words”

Trying to tamp down the odd mix of anxiety and excitement at having Robby listen to you, you kept your gaze ahead, focusing a bit too hard on getting your key into the lock as he stood behind you patiently “I had to threaten to sue and it still took months so good luck with that one, you’ll need it”

Opening your door you toed off your shoes and put them to the side in your entryway prompting him to do the same while you started turning on lights “Feel free to set your bag anywhere, kitchen tables covered in my work stuff so that may be your best bet” you instructed him as you set your own work bag down at one of the chairs at the table “in the meantime make yourself at home I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes you can use”

You rushed through the process of grabbing an extra pair of clothes you thought would fit him and a towel, knowing the longer you left him alone in your living room the more likely he was to back out entirely. Something that was quickly proved correct as you joined him with the stack back out in the living room, hesitation and awkwardness practically carved into his bones as he stood rigidly in the center of the room.

“These should fit but obviously let me know if you need anything else” you ignored the trepidation on his face as you handed him the stack, Robby blindly grabbing it as he already started to backtrack.

“You really don’t have to-“

“Please I want to” you interrupted him, walking back towards the kitchen forcing him to hold onto the stack as you got out a pot “besides I need someone to get wine drunk with. Can’t do it on my own, I think that’s when they call it alcoholism”

Still he stared at you silently, you could practically see him trying to think of a way to politely extract himself.

“Unless you don’t drink of course in which case I’ve got soda or water or-“

“No no” he chuckled though it sounded slightly strained, patting to top of the stack you had given softly “wine’s good”

“Good I’ll open the bottle then” you smiled warmly at him, gesturing with a nod back towards the hallway behind him “bathroom’s down on the left I’ll be out here if you need anything”

Still he just stared at you for a brief moment, silence stretching with words unsaid, before he finally accepted it and nodded, giving you one last thanks before he made his way to go shower, leaving you to start cooking and distract yourself from the death spiral of regret and anxiety your brain was trying to force you down.

You heard the shower start up just as you put the pot on the stove to boil, you’d honestly planned on doing as little as possible when it came to getting food in you tonight after work but with Robby here you figured you could at least put in a minimal amount of effort. All things considered though boxed pasta and jarred sauce was as far as you were willing to go tonight.

Deciding last minute to add at least a salad to the side you were chopping up vegetables by the time that Robby joined you once again, looking tired but clean and a little lighter at least.

“You weren’t kidding about the water pressure” he noted as he sat on the other side of the bar that separated living room from kitchen, watching you continue to chop.

“I know right” you grinned at him “I don’t know what they did but I’m considering letting all my other unanswered maintenance requests go as a thank you”

He chuckled at that, looking back out at your apartment appraisingly “do you need me to do anything cause I-“

“Sit down doc” you chided him harmlessly “have a glass of wine you look like you’ve had a long shift”

He took the glass you slid his way with a nod, a small huff escaping him as he shook his head “what about you what’s got you coming home this late?”

A part of you wondered if you should commend his effort to try and fix your shifty night in lieu of his own or condemn his clear avoidance of the conversation turning to him. For now you chose to do neither and instead just answer “parent teacher conferences”

He hummed at that, watching you carefully as you threw the salad together and checked on the noodles “they go that badly?”

“They didn’t but that’s kind of the problem” you shrugged as you stirred the boiling water.

He raised a brow at that, no question coming to his lips just a silent ask to continue.

“It’s always the parents of the kids I’m not worried about who show up” you shrugged, leaning your elbows on the counter in front of him as you spoke “The straight A students, or at least the students who are clearly putting in the effort and trying”

“Meaning the students who’s parent’s you want to speak to don’t come” he answered for you in understanding.

“Exactly” you nodded, grabbing out a colander to drain the pasta as you continued “Which I get it parents can be busy or can just not make the conference hours but given all the emails I’ve sent over the course of this semester that have gone unanswered…”

You trailed off with a shrug, dishing up two portions of pasta and salad without a thought and placing one in front of Robby before putting yours in front of the seat next to him.

He nodded in thanks, starting to eat as you did the same, a small silence passing over the two of you that felt infinitely more comfortable than the one shared earlier in the evening, before he broke it “do you know what you’re going to do about it yet?”

You nodded in answer, twirling your fork absentmindedly in your pasta as you thought “Yeah it’ll be another round of emails, maybe some printed notes sent home with kids offering to meet at other times, I’ll see if I can at least get some of them on a phone call or something”

He hummed in thought, studying you for a moment before his eyes cut back down to his plate “you’re a good teacher”

You snorted at that, furrowing your brow at the man beside you in response “what makes you say that”

“You care” he shrugged like it’s obvious “you’re going out of your way to try and set these kids up for success. That’s what a good teacher would do”

“Feels like the bare minimum” you chuckled slightly “it’s my job to make sure they leave my classroom set up for whatever comes ahead”

“The fact that you so clearly believe that proves my point” he smiled back at you “it’d be a lot easier to write it off, to say you tried and give up but you keep pushing, keep advocating for these kids. You’re a good teacher”

And truly you didn’t have anything to say to that, the words dying on your tongue as you looked up at him and saw the complete sincerity in his eyes. Instead you simply offered him a small smile that he mirrored back.

“What about you how was your day” the question was out of your mouth before you could think better of it, the action of asking him in return feeling too natural.

You could see him shut down at the question, could see his walls going up as his gaze cut back to his plate “Fine. It was fine”

And maybe you should’ve left it there but you were already in too deep to feel comfortable with letting it go “you’re a good doctor, you know that right?”

His gaze cut back up to you quickly with a furrowed brow, a shocked huff leaving him at your words “have I treated you before?”

“No” you assured him with a snort “but no matter what you claim I can see that you’re not fine” you watched him tense at your words, would’ve found it almost funny in any other circumstance “I just mean a good doctor wouldn’t have a day get to him like that. You clearly care about your patients. Like actually care not just pretend to care until you can shuffle them along to the next person, that’s what a good doctor would do”

He chuckled slightly at your words, a lopsided small smile tugging at his lips as he looked you over “Feels like the bare minimum””

“You throw my words back at me and my response will be the same as yours” you chided him good naturedly, relishing the sound of his laugh you got in response as he shook his head.

“touché”

You smiled at the concession, taking note of both of your empty plates and looking back out at your living room before making a decision “do you want to watch a movie?”

He raised a brow at you but you watched the corners of his mouth tick up in response making you smile back “Obviously you can tell me if you’re tired and would rather go to bed but I like a movie at the end of the day to wind down” you shrugged in response.

“Only if you let me do the dishes”

You tried desperately not to let it show how much his easy acceptance shocked you “Robby you can come over and do my dishes anytime”

He laughed easily at that as he took both of your plates and made his way over to the sink, collecting the various dishes you’d used to cook from around the kitchen.

“I hope you know this means I will be subjecting you to my objectively terrible taste in movies”

“I think I’ll live” and you tried to ignore exactly how it made you feel to see this man smirking at you from your kitchen as he handwashed your dishes. Instead you choose to make your way over to the couch and start looking at your options.

And that was how you found yourself seated comfortably next the neighbor you’d had maybe five conversations with before, watching a movie much too late into the night. And thus how you found yourself waking up the next morning to the light streaming in through your living room windows and a comfortable chest beneath your cheek, with an admittedly painful twinge in your neck but feeling more well rested than you had in months.

-

You didn’t see Robby for a few days after that. The morning after had been awkward enough you counted it as a blessing.

There’d been a brief moment of serenity, admittedly, right before you fully woke up where all you could notice was how warm you felt, how comfortable, how secure. You remember burying yourself further into the comfort, giving a soft wiggle as you pressed your face further into what you had assumed was your pillow, until you heard a chuckle.

Rather you had felt the chuckle first, could feel it ruminate up Robby’s chest beneath your head before it broke to the surface. You felt what you quickly surmised to be an arm thrown over your shoulder and wrapped around you pull you in tighter, hardly enough to notice but enough to send butterflies through your stomach, before you finally opened your eyes.

Robby had already been staring down at you, his eyes wide in clear surprise but still the corners of his mouth ticked up, you wondered if he noticed. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you looked back up at him, neither of you moving for a moment, almost afraid to burst the bubble before you spoke “good morning”

His eyes got almost comically wider as his gaze cut to the nearest clock, a verification of the time seeming to fully solidify exactly what position the two of you were in for him as he quickly retracted his hands, open palms coming up by his head as if to placate you in the situation as a million apologies spilled from his lips.

You had just barely pulled yourself off of him before he was on his feet and grabbing his bag, all but running out of the door before you’d even finished stretching.

So naturally the first time you would see him in days would be when you were drunk off your ass after a night out with friends.

You all but stumbled out of the elevator, heels as always were a terrible choice for a night out but you couldn’t help but love the way your legs looked in them. So focused were you on keeping upright as you exited the elevator that you completely missed Robby standing in front of his door.

Looking up from your feet finally however you noticed the man frozen in place, keys in hand, lips slightly parted as his gaze made a slow climb from your feet up to your face. You couldn’t have stopped the grin from growing on your face if you had tried “Dr. Robinavitch we have got to stop meeting like this”

You speaking seemed to have snapped him out of whatever daze he was in, a startled huff escaping him as his posture relaxed “Well you look like you had a good night”

“I had a great night” you affirmed, taking a wobbly step forward that had him surging forward to brace you by the forearm, a slight chuckle escaping him as he helped you steady yourself.

“And how many drinks did we have tonight?”

“Not enough” you shook your head, griping his hand in yours happily as you took another step “ohhh we should do shots”

He laughed much more freely at that, shaking his head in response “we absolutely should not do shots we should do carbs. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Fuck I love carbs” you hummed letting him lead you back to his place without a thought, leaning up against the wall while he put his keys in the door “French fries, we should do French fries”

“I can manage French fries” he smiled at you, pushing open the door before extending a hand to you, helping you into his place with a hand on your hip.

You leaned into him happily as you more pawed at the buckle on your shoe than actually tried to get it off, this going on for just long enough Robby was getting ready to help you with it when it finally slipped off your ankle and you fled the shoes where they dropped, making your way to his kitchen and going right for his freezer.

“Make yourself at home” Robby teased as he carefully picked up your shoes and set them off to the side alongside his, making his way next to you in the kitchen to start preheating the oven as you dug around in his freezer for the fries.

“yes you got the good ones” you cheered as you unearthed the bag, handing it to him without a thought as you immediately dipping into his fridge “we should do cheese on top”

Smiling in amusement Robby took the fries without a word and got out a baking sheet, dumping a good amount onto it before fielding the block of cheese you tossed his way without even looking to see where he was.

“Now you don’t have salsa but you do have tomatoes and onions and I can make that work” finally you shut the door to the fridge and turned to face him with the required ingredients clutched in your hands.

“Salsa?” he asked with a raised brow, putting the fries in the preheated oven.

“We can’t have loaded fries without salsa” you answered as if it were obvious, eyes skating around his kitchen looking for something “now where do you keep your knives”

“Absolutely not” he chided immediately, making his way across the kitchen over to you and grabbing the produce from your arms.

“No I swear I can do it” you tried to assure him even as you let him push you out of the kitchen.

“Swear all you want but I’m chopping the vegetables”

“You chop the vegetables I’ll chop the fruit?” you asked hopefully, giving him your best charming smile that Robby couldn’t help but mirror.

“Nice try now will you please sit down at let me do it” he shook his head as he led you around the bar to the stool on the other side, hands on your waist to steady you as you stepped up into the chair and plopped yourself down.

“But I could help!” though you thankfully stayed put you still tried to get involved, swinging your legs energetically in the air as you watched Robby start to dice “I could be like that person who hands you the scalpel”

He furrowed his brow at you with a smirk, looking up at you from his slightly bent position as he worked “person who hands me the scalpel?”

“Yeah you know in the tv shows. You go scalpel and hold you hand up like this” you demonstrated the proper movement to him, choosing to ignore his grin as you talked “and someone puts it in your hand without saying anything that could be me”

“You do know I’m not a surgeon right?”

“All I’m hearing is you don’t have a scalpel person and it could be me”

He laughed at that, shaking his head as he gathered up all of your fry toppings “why don’t you sober up first then we’ll talk about your career options”

With a disgruntled huff you rolled your eyes, resting your head in your palm as you watched Robby finish off your loaded fries, dutifully instructing him on how much of each ingredient was required before happily digging into the plate he set in front of you, a myriad of content hums coming from you as you ate making Robby smile.

“You know I like this way better” you pointed out without looking at him, taking the time to pick the perfectly loaded fry.

“Like this better than what?”

“Better than you being weird” if you noticed the way the room went cold around Robby at your words you didn’t let it show, instead snacking happily as you stole a glance at him from the side of your eye.

“I’m weird?”

“You acted weird” you corrected him with a shrug “after we woke up on my couch you basically ran away from me”

A tense silence followed but you watched him unabashedly, waiting patiently for a response Robby wasn’t sure he wanted to give “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable” again the words came out of you so easily, a part of Robby wished he could be drunk for this conversation too “in fact I was really comfortable until you moved”

A huff left him at that, a small smile growing on his face despite his inner turmoil “Really?”

You nodded in response, finishing off the last of your food and wiping off your fingers on a napkin, pushing the plate off to the side and finally turning your full attention to him “I mean the couch wasn’t the best but you make a comfortable pillow”

He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at that, an anxious hand coming to rub at the back of his neck as he laughed it off “well I’m glad I could be of service”

“I don’t think I realized how bad I had been sleeping lately until that night” you revealed softly, the carbs and the late hour clearly kicking in as you seemed to sober slightly “stress of parent teacher night ya know? But I slept really well that night”

“I know what you mean” the words slipped out of him before he could think any better of it, the way they put a smile on your face making it hard for him to regret them though.

You studied him for a moment, a comfortable silence blanketing the two of you before you broke it softly “you wouldn’t admit it but you were having a bad day. Did I make it better?”

Now it was his turn to examine you, to watch the lazy way you kicked your feet out from the chair, the way your hair fell half hazardly around your face as you tilted your head slightly at him, the soft curve of your lips as you smiled absentmindedly at him “yeah. Yeah you did”

“Good” and now you were beaming at him, spreading a warmth through his chest he wasn’t prepared for “we should do it again sometime”

“Pass out on your couch?”

“I’d prefer the bed but beggers choosers” you shrugged through the idiom with a chuckle “but no I meant be there for one another. It’s nice to have someone there, even if it’s just to exist next to them in silence”

“yeah it is” the admission again left him without much thought, a smile growing on him as he watched you perk up slightly at the response “for now though you need to get to bed and work on sleeping this off, you good to head home now?”

You nodded happily at the question, pushing yourself off the stool with practiced ease as you did so “Just need to grab my purse and I’ll be good”

He frowned at that “what purse?”

“Black tiny bag” you described it to him, looking around his apartment lazily “got my keys in it”

“You didn’t come in with a purse”

“no” you shook off the statement without a thought “I remember packing it before I left, got all my stuff in it”

“No I mean you didn’t come into my place with a purse” he explained slowly, watching as the news seemed to hit you, your shoulders dropping in defeat “You didn’t have it with you when you got off the elevator”

With a heavy sigh you cursed under your breath, the palms of your hands coming up to dig harshly into your eyes as you swore softly, the last of your fun drunkenness abandoning you fully.

With a huff Robby couldn’t help but smile at the move, gesturing back to his room with a nod “Go take a shower I’ll call the bar you were at and see if they have it”

With a grumble you nodded “thank you”

“Don’t worry about it” he shook you off as he pulled out his phone “bottom left drawer of my dresser should have clothes you can wear, take whatever you want”

Nodding you slowly pulled yourself off towards his room, tossing the name of the bar you were at over your shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

Calling confirmed the bar did in fact have your purse and were willing to hold onto it until the morning so Robby made sure to inform Jack he would be running a little late the next day so he had time to go with you to pick it up. By the time he had finished his calls and cleaned up the kitchen you had joined him back out in the living room, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room with dripping hair in sweatpants that were just slightly too long and a shirt you had no business looking that good in.

“I’m sorry I could’ve helped clean”

He shook you off again with a swipe of his hand, practically forcing his eyes away from you as he surveyed the space around him “don’t worry about it there wasn’t much to do” he assured you, offering you the glass of water he had gotten you earlier “drink all of that first but go ahead and go to bed, we can go pick up your purse tomorrow”

With a nod you took the glass with a small thank you, “will you-uh-“ you stuttered on the words, fidgeting slightly on the spot making Robby frown “do you think we can share the bed?”

His furrowed brow raised as he realized what you were getting at, already shaking his head “Oh don’t worry about it I was already going to insist you take the bed anyways, I’ll sleep on the couch”

You chuckled nervously at that, taping your fingers on the side of the glass as you shook your head in response “no I mean. Just it was really nice last time we-ya know-shared the couch. Would it be okay if we did it again?”

Robby was at a loss for words at the question, his entire mind going blank on the spot as you fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“The answer can of course be no” you quickly cut in with a small laugh “I just haven’t slept as well since so I figured”

“Yeah” the word all but slipped out of him without his head clearing it, Robby finding in the moment that he didn’t really want to walk it back anyways “yeah we can share the bed”

Finally your fidgeting broke as you smiled in relief, relaxing on the spot as you nodded “okay good”

“You go on ahead I’ll meet you in there” he instructed softly with a smile “just gotta lock up first”

Giving him a nod you heeded his instructions, slipping underneath his covers on one side of the bed and laying still, listening to Robby’s nighttime routine as he locked the door and brushed his teeth.

When he finally made it back to the bedroom you could practically feel the hesitance rolling off of him as he stood beside the bed for a moment, not moving an inch as he debated just taking the couch anyways, before he carefully peeled back one corner of the blanket and slowly lowered himself, careful not to jostle the bed too much in case you were sleeping, careful not to get too close to what he considered ‘your side’.

You, however, were having none of that. The minute he seemed to settle you turned around and moved yourself beside him, placing your head directly onto his shoulder with a soft hum.

A startled inhale sounded from Robby as you did so, the muscles in his arm all tensing beneath you the second you made contact.

“I warned you, you make a comfortable pillow” you whispered out into the room attempting to cut the tension in the air. Something you seemed to at least partially accomplish as he huffed out a laugh in response, his arm remaining tense nonetheless “unless you’re uncomfortable cause we don’t have to-“

“no no” he interrupted you softly before you could get too far, his voice slightly hoarse causing him to pause as he cleared it quietly before continuing “could you just lift your head for a second”

Complying quickly Robby slipped his arm beneath your head and wrapped it around you wordlessly, prompting you to drop your head back down onto his chest and wrap your arm around him in response, one leg naturally tangling with his as you buried yourself fully into Robby’s side with a content hum that made him chuckle.

Your mind stayed fixed on the soft patterns he was tracing on your arm with his finger, wondering if he was even aware he was doing it. “Thanks for saving me tonight Robby”

Another appreciative laugh escaped him, your head bobbing slightly as his chest rumbled with it “’saving’ is a strong word there, I just gave you a place to crash, basic human decency”

And you thought about arguing the point, pushing back on his refusal to properly accept your thanks, point out that he was doing a lot more than the ‘basic’ nice thing. But if you knew Robby, and you were starting to think maybe you did, that would just make things worse, would just push him further away, so you let it go, for now at least “and supplied the French fries. You can’t forget the French fries”

“You’re right I did save you didn’t I? Think they’ll knight me?”

“Pretty sure that only applies in England” you hummed back, enjoying the quietness of the moment, the simplicity of it, the lack of any expectation “maybe a key to the city?”

“Not nearly as cool”

“No. No it isn’t. We’ll get you something to make up for it” your next words left you in a sleepy whisper, your eyes already closed, your brain not conscious enough to fully recognize the weight of your words as they slipped out “you deserve nice things Robby”

His fingers stilled at the words, no sound escaping him as he went silent, staring at the ceiling above the bed, all while you finally succumbed to sleep.

-

Things changed after that.

It wasn’t quite as you hoped, you still went days without seeing one another but whenever you had a bad day you had someone to go to, someone you knew would be there for you without question, without comment if that’s what you preferred, and you knew Robby felt the same.

There was no dramatic change, you didn’t automatically start spending every night together but still you found your excuses to cuddle up every now and then.

Something that apparently wasn’t going unnoticed, at least on Robby’s end.

“You seem lighter lately. Happy almost” Dana’s comment came out of nowhere at the end of a fairly standard Thursday shift. As usual with the charge nurse there was no preamble, no beating around the push, no coddling of feelings, she went right to the issue. For the first time Robby found that he really wished she wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry?”

“No it’s good. It’s creeping out the med students, our number of charting errors have been cut in half” She smirked at him, a smile that foretold trouble he did not want to deal with.

“Ah then you’re welcome”

“So you gonna tell me about her?”

And there it was, the metaphorical shoe “her?”

“The woman who’s been making you happy” Each statement was said with such a level of confidence, of finality, it felt absurd to try and push back.

“There is no woman” And yet still he must.

“There has to be a woman”

An incredulous laugh left him at that as he finally lifted his gaze fully from the chart in front of him to look at her. “Is it so impossible to think I’m just feeling better lately” he knew how weak the argument would be before it even left his lips “Maybe I found inner peace”

And based on the glare Dana sent back at him she thought so too “Either there’s a woman or I’m asking Gloria to up suicide prevention measures on the roof”

“Ask her to hire more nurses while you’re at it”

Surely there had to be something else to do in the emergency department than badger him “Does she work here?”

Surely she had to accept his flat out denial eventually “There is no woman”

“There’s a woman” The two of them both tensed slightly at the emergence of a new voice, Purlah’s sudden arrival catching them both off guard.

Dana, however, recovered quickly with a wolfish grin “What do you know”

“I know a lot of things you’ll have to be specific” Purlah leaned on her forearms against the nurse’s desk as she settled eagerly into the conversation. Now was his time to escape.

“About the woman”

“The woman up front? Is there something to know?” The last question was directed to him as the two woman fixed him with their gaze, halting him mid tip-toe.

“I don’t even know who you’re talking about” Robby groaned softly, rubbing a tired hand over his face as he grabbed the first tablet he could see “now if you excuse me I think at least one of us should be doing thier job right now”

“Wait but the woman up front” Purlah stopped him before he could leave “She’s asking for you, says her name is Y/N Y/L/N”

A strange mix of panic and dejection filled Robby at the revelation, both feelings only growing as he watched Dana break out into a wolfish grin over Purlah’s shoulder as she watched his face drop before finally conceding “Yeah send her back”

Purlah nodded and took off and Robby knew news of your existence would be spread to every medical professional on the floor within the hour. So much for flat out denial.

“So there is a woman”

He refused to look at Dana as he switched out tablets “I promise it’s not what you think”

“Believe me I’m trying very hard not to think about it” she snorted, gaze pulling to the door to the ED as it opened and you scurried in behind Purlah, head ducked low and eyes planted firmly on the ground as you held a familiar looking kitchen towel to your hand “She’s cute”

“Not a word” Robby tossed the empty threat over his shoulder as he made his way to the room you were being placed in, choosing to ignore the cackle Dana let loose as he did so, instead putting all of his focus on your clearly panicked figure that sat up on the bed before him.

“Hey I’m really sorry”

“Don’t be sorry” he brushed you off easily, docking the tablet and pulling on a pair of gloves with practiced ease “What’s going on”

“I cut myself honestly a while ago and it hasn’t stopped bleeding” you held the towel wrapped hand out in front of you, offering it to him, speaking much faster than you normally did.

“Alright let’s take a look” he tried to slow down purposefully, to speak lowly and quietly, to put as much calm into his tone as he could.

“Again I’m so sorry to bother you at work and ask for you specifically I didn’t-“ Still you took off at double speed, not even making eye contact with him as you spoke.

“Hey you’re okay you should always come in with stuff like this” he cut you off with a reassurance, hand coming out to squeeze your knee in a small offer of comfort.

“Yeah I know I just feel like I used you to bypass the whole line and you guys probably have a whole system in place-“

“You’re rambling what’s going on” he cut you off again, a small frown as he watched you squirm on the spot, gaze never staying in one spot for long enough to be natural.

“I don’t really do hospitals well” you admitted shyly, the corners of Robby’s mouth ticking up slightly at your words as he shrugged.

“That’s okay me neither”

For the first time your eyes finally met him as you sent him a cold glare “you’re not helping”

He tried desperately to fight back his smile “Okay I’m sorry but listen, small cut, just a few stitches, we’ll have you out of here in no time”

“Right sure, few stitches” he let you all but talk to yourself as he gathered the suture supplies, tuning back in when he heard you voice raise slightly as you addressed him “I’m assuming that requires a needle”

“If you’d prefer I can hold the skin together myself until it starts to heal but I’ll warn you my hourly rate is incredibly expensive”

Another death glare was sent his way, he choked back a chuckle.

“Jokes’re really not helping got it.” He changed tactics with a warm smile, planting himself onto a backless stool a breath away from you, giving your knee a soft knock with his own “I’ve done a million of these it’ll be over before you know it”

Still you looked at him skeptically, a look that told him you were seriously considering his offer of simply holding your skin together himself.

“Hey you’re the one that told me I was a good doctor not that long ago, let me prove you right”

That finally got to you, a dramatic huff leaving you as you deflated slightly on the spot, a defeated “fine” slipping through your teeth Robby couldn’t help but chuckle at as he got the lidocaine ready.

“That’s the spirit. Now local anesthetic, small pinch and a burn” The words came out quickly, more one amalgamation of sound than individual words, his brain already starting to go through the motions when he paused “Imma need you to stop tensing, it’s just going to make it worse”

“Yeah I know I’m sorry” you sighed out the words, giving your shoulders a little shake to try and relax.

“You’re still tensing”

“I can’t help it I’m freaking out” the words exploded out of you as you tried to pull your hand back, Robby grabbing you by the wrist softly to try and direct you back into place.

“Hey hey look at me” he approached calming you down like dealing with a wild animal, entirely soft words and slow movement “sweetheart please I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”

With a huff you let him have you hand back, staring back at him blankly with an expression that told him the second he let go of you you were out the door.

“I’m going to pretend this hesitation doesn’t hurt”

With a roll of your eyes you sighed again, forcing a deep breath as you shook out the tension in your shoulders once more before refocusing your gaze, locking eyes with him and nodding softly “yeah I trust you”

Before you could even think of doing anything else he inserted the needle and depressed the plunger, pulling back quick enough to escape the way you dramatically snatched your hand back from him “Fuck did you just stab me with a needle without looking”

“I told you I’ve done a few of these” he shrugged with a smirk, already moving on to prepare the next step.

“Did you do each of them blind too?”

“The needle was already lined up” he motioned for you to give him your hand back, unable to keep the smile off his face as you glared at him.

“No I’m not listening I want a new doctor”

“What if I promised to look when I actually do the stitches”

“That should be a given?” The words came out in an incredulous shriek that had Robby fully laughing

"I'll give you a lollipop when we’re done”

You narrowed your eyes at him at the offer, hand on your injured wrist tightening slightly before you suddenly thrust it back at him with a huff “If I have a scar I’m suing”

“Deal” he conceded easily, threading his needle and inserting it before you could call it off again, the cut requiring just two quick stitches Robb had you done in minutes “See that wasn’t too bad”

Only when he had finished bandaging did you pull back your arm again, cradling it protectively into your chest as you sent him another glare “I want you to know I’m leaving this hospital with emotional pain as well as the physical pain I was already in”

“Oh that’s my specialty” Robby snorted as he started to clean up “Call it a two for one special”

“I’m demanding a red lollipop in recompense”

Robby looked surprisingly sheepish at that, hands tucked deep into his pockets as he swayed back on his heels “ah so about that we don’t actually have lollipops here. More of a family medicine thing”

You let the silence stretch uncomfortably as you glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest for an effect that pulled a small snort out of him.

“I can offer you a crisp five dollar bill for the vending machine though”

“And you lie to patients” you mused with an shake of your head and a condescending tsk “I’m adding this to my pile of evidence for the malpractice suit”

“My first name’s Michael just so you can make sure to get the right person on that”

You paused at that, cocking your head to the side slightly as you asked “is it really?”

“Yeah” he chuckled softly “you didn’t know that?”

“Always thought your parents just had a thing for alliteration” You shrugged it off with a smile, watching the corners of his tick up in response “seriously though thank you for this. I know I’m not the easiest patient”

“You didn’t get bodily fluids on me or try to hit me so that’s a win in my book”

“Damn so the bar’s low”

“Everytime I think we hit rock bottom someone shows up with a pickaxe to prove we can go deeper”

You let out an almost hollow chuckle, a sound more to fill the awkward silence following a statement you guessed held more truth than you could know.

“About what you said earlier” he hedged the words in, seemed almost hesitant to let them fall.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be held responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth for the duration of this visit”

He chuckled appreciatively at the break in tension, running his knuckles up and down across the palm of his other hand as he looked at you for a moment before physically shaking himself out of it “no I mean if you’re ever back here again, for any reason, tell the nurses to come find me okay? Don’t worry about messing up our system I promise it’s a myth anyways, just come find me”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him at that, the promise falling softly from your lips “I will”

“Good” he answered just a softly with a nod “now how are you getting home”

“Ah I walked” you answered sheepishly “Tried to delay the inevitable for as long as possible”

He shook his head at that but didn’t say anything to condemn it, reaching into his pockets to pull out his wallet “I get off in 45, here”

You furrowed your brow as he tried to thrust a few folded bills into your hand “oh you don’t have to”

“Please it was cruel of me to dangle candy in front of you without following through” he was brushing off your denial quickly, grabbing your hand to force the money into your fingers when you refused to grab it “Get yourself something from the vending machine and wait in the breakroom I’ll take you home”

“Its not that far” you tried again

“Let me anyways” and you could see the silent question in his eyes, the plea, it was a look not dissimilar to the one he wore when he showed up at your door late at night.

“Which way’s the breakroom”

He responded with a soft smile, making his way behind you and leading you forward with a hand at the small of your back, stopping just outside the door to point to a room across the way. “Just through there, I’ll come find you when I’m done”

With a nod you started to make your way to the room, not making it more than a step before he was calling back to you.

“Also if a blonde woman introduces herself as Dana you run in the opposite direction”

“You realize that just makes me want to talk to her more right?”

“It was worth a shot”

-

For perhaps the first time in his life Robby was ready to leave work on time, some may even say he was eager to do so. And if the smirk on her face was anything to go by Dana was certainly one of these people.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve checked your watch in the past five minutes”

Robby chose to ignore her teasing tone, bouncing on his feet lightly as he eyed the board with dread “My shift did end five minutes ago”

She snorted at that, shaking her head as she watched him avoid her gaze “I wasn’t aware you knew what time your shift ended”

Robby sent her a cutting glare “I don’t suppose you’re going to get on Jack’s case like this too for being five minutes late when he’s always twenty early”

She sent him a dangerous smirk and a shrug “Don’t have to Jack’s here already”

Robby furrowed his brow at that, casting his gaze over the bustling ED in search of the attending “He is? Since when?”

“Bout twenty minutes ago” there was a forced casualness to her tone that made him dread whatever she was going to say next “I sent him to the breakroom for coffee, weird he hasn’t come back yet”

Another sharp glare was sent her way she couldn’t help but grin under “You’re too invested in my personal life”

“What personal life” she snorted “thought you said ‘it’s not what you think’”

“I’m leaving” he declared with a nock on the desk “you should too”

“You going to offer to walk me home too” she called after him as he made his way to the bank of lockers, enjoying the pointed way he ignored the comment.

Grabbing his things quickly he threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the breakroom, barging through the door without a thought to see you and Jack sitting side by side, the corners of his mouth tipped up in as close to a smile as Jack got while your soft laugh rang through the air, your injured hand without any of the dressings he had so carefully applied half an hour ago cradled softly in one of his.

“Hey Robby” Your greeting snapped him out of his staring contest with your hands, his gaze meeting yours across the room as you offered him a soft smile.

“Hey” he greeted back, watching Jack slowly, deliberately, retract his hand from yours “is everything alright with your stitches?”

“Yeah they’re good” you affirmed happily “Jack just wanted to take a look at them”

Jack, not Dr. Abbot or even just Abbot, Jack.

“Can’t remember the last time you did stitches, gotta make sure you don’t horribly scar the poor girl” if the smirk on Jack’s face was anything to go by the man knew exactly what he was doing.

“And the verdict is?”

“I’ve seen worse”

He snorted humorous-lessly “high praise coming from a combat medic”

Jack sent him another smirk before turning back to you “let me get you another set of dressings and you’re good to go”

“I got it” Robby cut in before Jack could get up, not enjoying the amusement that danced in the man’s eyes as his gaze cut back to Robby still standing in the entryway.

“I don’t mind-“

“I said I got it” Robby forced a polite smile to his face, one he knew didn’t reach his eyes, a fact that only made Jack’s smirk deepen “Besides I heard you have a case of explosive diarrhea to take care of in south 7”

Jack chuckled as he leaned slightly closer to you, stage whispering while he kept his gaze on Robby “I think I’m in trouble”

You giggled back at him knocking your shoulder against his playfully as you stage whispered back “you better go before you get me in trouble too”

Standing up slowly Jack made his way out of the breakroom finally, sending Robby off with a mirth filled smile and a slightly too aggressive set of pats on the shoulder, finally leaving you and him alone in the breakroom.

“In my defense you told me to avoid Dana, nothing in there about Jack”

With a huff he shook his head, dropping his back next to you “My mistake clearly. Now lets get you some new bandages and get out of here before she has a chance to sink he claws into you”

“Ah you’re about thirty minutes too late for that” you giggled at the way he sighed dramatically at that, sitting down next to you to start applying a new set of bandages to your hand. “I like your coworkers though, they’re nice”

He chuckled at that with a shake of his head “nice is not the word I would go with there, try lacking any semblance of boundaries”

“The best of friends are” you shrugged with a grin, Robby unable to help himself from mimicking it as he finished off your bandage.

Finally free to leave the hospital the two of you made your way out, Robby doing his absolute best to avoid the gaze of everyone as he led you through the packed waiting room. Only when he was safely outside with you did he finally breathe easy.

The silence between the two of you as you walked stretched, blanketed the surrounding area, he couldn’t help but focus on it and yet it didn’t feel oppressive, didn’t feel awkward, he didn’t feel the need to try and break it.

This was the moment everything changed, there was a charge in the air you could feel, a weight to the moment that was palpable.

Robby looked down at you wordlessly, eyes dancing over your face as he just studied you for a moment, the corners of his mouth tipping up as you offered him a soft smile.

“Let me take you out” a simple offer, said on a shrug, followed by an endearing clarification “like on a date”

It wasn’t a grand declaration, wasn’t a cathartic clash, wasn’t a dramatic outpouring of emotion. It was quiet, casual, understated. A facsimile of that first time you spoke in the hallway. A simple hand held out, palm up. An offer for the taking.

“I’d like that”

You hadn’t known all that would result from that chance meeting late at night in the hallway. Hadn’t known all of the comfortable silences, awkward moments, and heartfelt conversations that would be shared in the weeks to come. And honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[haetrack]

"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!

i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.

he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?

jaemin x afab!reader

wc: 6.4k

warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader

a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...

-

jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.

he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.

even if he wants to.

it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.

he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.

all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.

-

jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet. 

it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie. 

you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.

you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.

you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”

he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”

judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”

he tilts his head, “with what?”

“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.

he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.

he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”

you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”

the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.

you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”

nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him. 

he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.

a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.

you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him. 

jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.

jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”

“it feels good for you, too?” 

he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”

you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way. 

you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.

he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.

he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”

you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”

his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.

there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.

it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”

he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”

“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”

a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints. 

-

jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.

he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too. 

he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable. 

it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.

he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”

he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’

“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’

“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”

you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.

he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.

he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”

you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”

your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”

jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.

he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.

his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”

he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”

you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”

jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”

you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”

you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”

you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”

you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”

you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”

his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you��re not sure how much more you can take.

“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”

he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.

“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”

you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”

he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.

his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching. 

he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”

“isn’t that what my angel wants?”

you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”

jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”

“yes… please, jaemin.”

his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”

you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”

“please keep going.”

he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.

with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”

a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”

his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.

the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”

“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.

“feel good, baby?”

you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”

“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”

your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel. 

he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”

while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.

your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”

he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”

-

over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.

you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.

now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much.  he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.

which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.

one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.

your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.

one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”

you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”

“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”

before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”

at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”

“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”

he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”

you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”

he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”

“want this, jaemin. want you.”

he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”

you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back. 

“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues. 

you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”

you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”

you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”

“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”

you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”

he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.

“wanna watch me put it on?”

you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.

as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”

you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”

your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.

your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”

“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”

he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.

it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back, 

his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.

if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.

“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”

“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”

you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.

while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.

when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.

he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”

“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”

you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.

“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”

“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”

he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.

he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.

“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”

he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”

you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.

he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.

you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.

it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”

he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”

you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”

he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”

[ddejavvu]

also u KNOW that hiccup is a hair puller anyway bye

this post is 18+, minors dni.

i think he does it a bunch outside of sex and so it pretty seamlessly integrates itself into sex. once he's comfortable with someone he seems to adopt some of that Little Shit energy that he might withhold from a stranger or an acquaintance. But once he's comfortable with you he's gonna get on your nerves a bit because he loves u <3

so he'll wrap a lock of your hair around his finger and tug, barely-there pressure that lets you know he's come up behind you while you're doing whatever you're doing. It prompts you to turn your head up at him with those pretty surprised eyes of yours, and he plants a big fat smooch on your lips to greet you.

sometimes he just plays with your hair too, raking his fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp, braiding it if it's a reasonable length to be braided and combing it this way and that with those constantly-moving hands of his. so it's really not that surprising to feel his hands in your hair, you're completely used to it by now.

sometimes he'll grab the entirety of your hair, whether it's braided and he can grab it easy, or if he has to sweep stray strands from over your shoulder to get it all in his fist. Then he uses it to pull you wherever he wants you to go, usually when you two have already been laughing and giggling and play-fighting for a while and he's trying to lead you somewhere. you two have a terrible habit of getting lost in time with one another and it can take you an entire day to cross the village if hiccup is walking with you, because you're pushing him backwards over a rock, and then he's dragging you down with him, and then you're smearing mud into his tunics, and then he's threatening to stick a raw fish down the back of your shirt, and then you're wrestling with him in the mud and meanwhile the villagers down the road have been waiting three hours for the chief to come and commemorate the birth of their child. point is, he's a hair puller as a means of lovingly irritating you, so you're totally used to it before you ever start having sex with him.

when you do, i'd bet the first time is pretty soft and sweet and nothing more than missionary skin-on-skin. very simple, very routine, just love and sex and that's it. once you start experimenting more, though, he doesn't do it because he knows hair-pulling can be sexy, he just- does it. he's just used to doing it, he wants to get you upstairs and into bed where you're pressing him into the wall and kissing him so he tugs on your hair to lean your head back and free himself. it's nothing more than getting you to where he needs you to be but you moan, a wanton, raw, lustful moan and he's shocked. you are too, to be fair, and the two of you stare at each other for a second while you process the new information. you'd best believe he uses it later.

he'll yank on your hair to pull you off of his cock, but that's only to get it inside of you. he's not usually one to pull you off of his dick but when he does he'll grab a fistful of your hair and yank. he'll use it to pull your head backwards during doggy style, so that he can crane his neck and kiss you as best he can despite the awkward angles. he'll do it when he's balls deep in your sex, hot and rough and grunting and one of his hands snakes up behind your head to pull at your hair, trying to get you to moan louder where you're already whining through your throat.

he's the kind of man who knows you, who gets to know you and never forgets what he learns, and you know he'll use it to make things better for the both of you.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.

"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."

"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.

Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?

Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.

So for once, you could breathe easy..

Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.

He must get a kick out of watching you perish.

"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"

"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"

"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."

Silence.

"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."

"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"

"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."

"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.

But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.

"Is the document for sale?"

"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."

You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.

Sebastian's Document

Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?

For some reason, it made you frown a little.

"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.

"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"

"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"

For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"

"It's more of a courtesy to you."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"

".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"

"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."

With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-

"Hey."

You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.

"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."

Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."

"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.

What you did was certainly a nice gesture.

He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.