#getting all the regular asks out before i get to the requests

[arbitrarykiwi]

heyyy can i request some nam-gyu fluff…or some maybe angst…😏😏😏

Illumoria

Illumoria- the realization that every person has hidden parts of themselves. a light they rarely share

I DID NAWT FORGET ABOUT YOU ANON! I had this cooking up since you sent it in and it literally just spiraled. This had me struggling in the best way possible. I’ve said before, angst is not my strong suit- I cannot do a cheating trope I’m too much of a ween. I don’t do well writing toxic relationships- again because I’m too much of a ween and a sucker for a happy endings. So getting this, angst to fluff?! Oh yeah we could work with that. 😏😏

I worked so, so hard so I could post this!! Today (30th) is my birthday and I worked mad hard this past week to get this finished so I could celebrate with y’all!! I wanted to give yall a wee gift. So enjoy this long ass request that turned into a full on one shot fic. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Warnings: 18+ , drug dealing , slow burn , gun violence , physical violence (not committed by NG or reader) , small fight scene (bad drug deal) , more drug dealing , drug usage , did I say slow burn , mentions of sex , drug usage , roommate trope lmao , Nam-Gyu being a dick , Bonnie/clyde like trope , probably more , read at your own risk

Everyday you ask yourself why you answered a random ad on the web for a roommate. You know at the time it was because the rant was cheap and it was a close commute to your work- but now? Now, you doubt those small benefits make up for what you’re dealing with- your fuck ass roommate.

His name was Nam-Gyu. You didn’t accept the offer blindly, you looked him up to make sure he wasn’t some serial killer. You found his social media. He didn’t post a lot but you found out he was a club promoter at some club, enjoyed weed (based on the many pictures of it in his feed), and was friends with some purple haired rapper. He also wasn’t bad looking, he had strong features, longer hair and dark eyes.

So with all that combined and the looming threat of higher rent- you weighed your options and took your chances and responded to the ad.

It started out okay, you would hardly talk to each other. Your days seemed to work out to where when he was leaving for work, you were coming home; you two hardly crossed paths. Every so often when you’d be out late, your schedule shifting, you’d catch him in the kitchen or in the hallway- exchanging nods and glances of acknowledgment.

It started as little things, dishes in the sink that you knew you didn’t place or loud music that he’d play when he’d come home from work to shower at 4am- things that drove you mad but you gave him grace, working as a club promoter couldn’t be easy.

He also found himself getting irritated by you. He really hoped some laid back dude would answer his ad for a roommate- not some office working princess. You seemed so put together, like you had your life in order. You left at the same time, 6:15am to go to work, at your (what he presumed to be) an office job, and came home around 12am. And from the glimpses he’s caught of your room, you were organized. Maybe he shouldn’t hate you for redeeming qualities but the face you were so much better than him pissed him off.

He hated that he could smell your shampoo and body wash hours after you had ended your shower. He loathed how he could hear the switch in your ‘professional’ voice and your ‘regular’ voice through the walls when you’d switch from a work call to some other call. He despised how sometimes when you would cook he could smell it from his room (it smelled so fucking good but he would never admit it).

But as the months passed you two were the worst possible roommates. You and him never got along, always butted heads, and seemingly hated each other. You two couldn’t be more different from each other. Well…he seemed to hate you. He began to make your life a living hell (so in turn you had to hate him).

When you’d turn the heat down, waking up covered in sweat, he’d bust out of his room-some how hearing you click the thermostat and come out to yell at you about how he pays the most of the utilities (because he’s the one that racks it up the most). You not being a docile person always fought back. And he hated that.

When he would cook in the kitchen he would banish you from not only the kitchen but from the whole common area of the house. He’d say he hated that you’d watch him like some begging puppy. You could stay out in the living room but he would make it known he hated it with annoying, childish huffs and whispered insults under his breath. So you just resorted to going to your room.

When you would shower he would make it a habit to run his dirty clothes in the laundry, making sure that the shower water would run cold during your time in the bathroom. Nothing could replace the joy the sound of your squeak of surprise from down the hall would bring him when the washer would start- the water in the bathroom turning ice cold.

He hated how your music would clash with his through the walls as you did whatever you did in your room. You hated how he seemed to NEVER put his shoes by the front door where the shoe rack was but drop them somewhere in the middle of the apartment. He despised how you would come home making so much noise, those stupid fucking keychains jingling obnoxiously against your bag as you walked to your room. You hated how him and his stupid friends would stay up till 4-5am blasting shitty rap and railing lines.

It took a couple months for things to bubble over…but eventually you guys would argue. A snide comment on Nam-Gyu’s end here, a bitchy remark on your end there- and suddenly it ends with both your bedroom doors slamming.

There was also one time he stumbled into the apartment on something, what it was you never found out, but, he busted through the door- damn near taking it off the hinges. You remembered you nearly jumped out of your skin at the time, practically choking on the cup noodles you were eating in the kitchen. “You know how to use a door right?” You harmlessly joke, it was lighthearted…okay, maybe it was definitely sarcastic and ended with a scoff but it wasn’t hostile!

“Who the fuck are you talking to, bitch?” He snarls at you from the door as he slams it shut. The force vibrates the apartment, you can hear the dishes clanking in the cabinets. Your eyebrows furrow, immediately you’re shifting into a person that he’s never seen- if he was the tiniest bit more sober he might have been thrown off.

“The fuck is your issue?!” You’re seething, putting your noodles down and coming out of the kitchen striding across the living room to face him properly. When you’re closer to him you realize that he’s fucked up, not just drunk or weed high….no he’s on harder shit. You knew he smoked weed, hell on the rare occasion you two were docile and cordial, you’ve even smoked on the balcony together. You also knew he wasn’t impartial to pills or even doing lines, you’ve seen the remnants though you’ve never seen him do it. But this- this was something different.

“My issues is I have to come home to a raging cunt of a roommate every god damn night.” He says lowly, throwing his keys down onto the coffee table and kicking off his shoes. He kicks them off so hard he’s denting the wall by the floor.

“Woah, woah.” You’re hissing lowly, stalking up to him. He’s so far gone but he’s surprised you’re standing up to him, getting in his face and not shying away. For some reason that pisses him off more. “You’re the one who put the fucking ad out because you needed help with rent.” You growl, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

Maybe if he was the least bit fucking blitzed he would have asked you about your split eyebrow and bruised knuckles but he genuinely couldn’t see straight. “Okay and? Didn’t expect to get a smartass girl answering the ad.” He says shoving his way past you and into the kitchen. When he passes by you can see a bright red spot on his inner arm, near his elbow. Your suspicious are confirmed. Your eyes are widening, and your mouth hangs open a bit. Sure he was not the best person, but you knew his job and you knew the shit he had to do to keep it and even make rent (as much as he tried to act mysterious and keep his life hidden).

You watch as he opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. “You sure you need that? Maybe you should get some sleep..” you say, your tone lighter- you’re not even trying to continue the argument- just trying to make sure he’s okay. You have no time to react before he’s throwing the bottle to the ground in a fit of rage. It shatters on the tile of the kitchen, the foamy liquid spreading across the laminate.

You jump, the action startling you. It was nowhere near you, you’re across the house still, near the entrance, but you have never seen him like this. “I am I grown fucking man. I don’t need my roommate being my fucking mommy.”

You look at him for a moment, just shocked and unsure of what to say. When you finally find your words, all you can muster is a “Go fuck yourself.” You’re throwing your hands up and walking to your room. Your door slams behind you, rattling the dishes in the cabinets like they did when he entered the apartment. This time he jumps, the sound and vibration somewhat snapping him out of his drug induced haze.

When you wake up in the morning to go to work, his room door is closed, signaling he’s home and likely asleep. You want to be angry and just leave, walk out the front door and just go to work- but you can’t. You have to at least check on him. So you tip toe over to his door and turn the knob, pushing it open.

He’s sprawled out on his bed, still in the clothes that he came home in- but he’s snoring. He’s breathing. He’s alive. You notice how his face twitches and he turns away from the door, the extra light from the hallway flooding into his room and annoying his sleeping self. Content with seeing he’s at least alive, you slowly close the door back.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and continue down the hallway to the kitchen. The beer bottle shards and the beer was cleaned up on the floor, the evidence of his outburst nowhere to be found. At least he cleaned up after himself.

When he was certain you left for your little office job for the day, Nam-gyu snuck out of his bedroom. He felt like death personified. His head hurt, the room was spinning every time he took a step and he was certain that if he looked in one place for too long whatever he was looking at would start to move….whatever fucking drug he did he was not doing it again.

He admittedly didn’t want to do it…but his job was riding on it. The look of his boss, the one telling him to take the offer from the VIP or else his position would be cut, was enough to make him do it. The ‘bonus’ was not only a surprise (he hardly ever got something ‘extra’…he guessed his boss became more generous on whatever the fuck he took) it wasn’t nearly enough compensation for what he went through….

For what he made you go through.

It was just enough to cover his rent for the month, barely and it kept him his job…that’s how much it cost him to do some drug he had no idea what it was. Wow, stand up person he was. Stumbling, he makes it to the kitchen, hands slamming against the cabinets desperately to open it and get a glass for water. When he grabs the glass and slumps over the kitchen sink the trash can is in his direction field of view. He can see the shards of the bottle he broke. The amber stained glass hard to miss against the black plastic of the trash bag.

He groans, his brain pounding has memories of the night prior rush back to memory. He hardly remembers coming back out late in the middle of the night, rather early in the day- before you even got up for work- to clean up the mess. He knew he wasn’t the best roommate, hell…he wasn’t the best person…but whatever came over him that night; you didn’t deserve that.

And who could forget the time, not even a week after the huge fight you two had- a knock sounds at your closed bedroom door late at night. You know only Nam-gyu could be the one knocking at this hour, the apartment is locked up and he definitely didn’t have anyone over, but, it confuses you as to why. He never comes to you for anything.

It’s three soft knocks, like Nam-Gyu is testing to see if you’re awake. You never slept good, always in and out of sleep. So when your half-asleep body focuses in on the soft sound, you’re awake immediately. You sit up in bed and look towards your door. Maybe you dreamt it? Fuck, maybe that goodnight blunt kicked your ass more than you thought it did.

One more soft knock- like he’s testing to really make sure you were asleep if you weren’t going to answer. Nam-Gyu sighs. He’s so glad you didn’t answer- you were asleep. He begins to turn on his heels about to get on with his scheduled meeting.

The creak of the door knob makes his body turn to ice. He freezes awkwardly, half turned away from the door. He’s so still, like a kid that thinks if they are completely frozen, they’re invisible.

“Nam-gyu?” Your tired voice cuts through the still air of the apartment like a knife. Okay….so looks like freezing in place didn’t work.

Nam-gyu turns on his heels to face you again, an almost bashful look on his face as his dark eyes meet yours in the hallway. He coughs, trying to fix his dry throat to no avail, “h-hey…uh…thought you were asleep…”

His words fumble out of his mouth in choked, embarrassed syllables. His tone is hushed, maybe if he talks low enough you’ll think you’re dreaming. He wants to kick himself when he realizes how pathetic his words come out. He can even see the way your eyebrows knit together in confusion and shock as you try and wake yourself up more.

“I…well I was.” Nam-Gyu cringes at your response. Of course he ruined your sleep by knocking. He made his situation so much harder. “Yeah…sorry about that…” He drawls out.

Nam-gyu coughs awkwardly “So…um…I’m gonna have someone over-“ You immediately scoff, “Dude, I don’t care…get your dick wet. You don’t have to tell me about it.” You say surprised, that’s the only reason you can think he’s coming to tell you that, a ‘hey stay the fuck in your room I’m trying to get laid’ thing. You’ve lived with him for months and he’s never done this…come to think about it you’re not sure if he’s ever brought a girl home…but this is strange.

Nam-gyu seems to falter and look at you dumbly. He shakes his head violently, hands thrown up dismissively, “N-no it’s not like that. Just…stay in your room and try not to make too much noise m’kay?”

His voice is jittery and anxious but it’s also eerily calm- like whatever he was about to deal with was something he’s done time and time again. “Uhhh….yeah…sure…” You nod, still half asleep and delirious. “Wha…what is going on?” You mumble, eyebrows knitted together as you try to stare at him in the dark hallway.

He seems to realize how anxious he appears, he fixes his posture and changes his tone. Clearing his throat he speaks, “None of your business, just stay the fuck in your room okay.” He spits, glaring at you. His hand brushes past your waist, nudging you out of the way of the door. He grabs your door knob and slams the door shut.

Fumbling backwards into your room you stare at your closed door. Did he seriously just slam your door? Slam it backwards?! What the fuck was going on.

You obviously end up staying awake, ear pressed to your closed door as you try your best to hear anything that happens outside your room. You can hear a knock at the door and Nam-Gyu walking down the hallway, away from your door.

You hear the telltale sound of the deadbolt on the front door unlocking, the creak of the door opening, and muffled introductions being made and then the door shutting.

“Yeah man…I told you that I was getting the money I swear, just a couple hundred behind.” Nam-gyu’s voice is hushed and uneasy- you can tell he’s trying to keep whatever was going on, on the down low. He didn’t want you to hear.

You’re nosy though.

You shift more, nearly trying to make your face melt through the wood of your bedroom door. “You sure didn’t seem so scared when you were borrowing the 6 bands.”

The voice that answers Nam-Gyu is rough, it’s louder, obviously not caring of the idea of ‘quiet’. “I’m fucking serious, if you don’t have the money I’m going to fucking-“

“Okay okay! Jesus fucking Christ, just be quiet will you. I have a fucking-“ Nam-Gyu cuts himself off, he doesn’t want to tell this loan shark he has a roommate- just someone else to get involved with his bullshit. Nam-gyu chocks it up to him being strategic, he doesn’t need anyone else meddling in his affairs- but deep down he knows it’s to protect you. The last thing he needs to see is your pretty face hung over him while he gets the shit beat out of him.

“I have fucking neighbors. Walls are thin. You wouldn’t want them hearing this would you.” Nam-Gyu awkwardly corrects himself, hoping, praying, that this intruder wouldn’t question him further about his awkward grammar.

“You said you would have the money” this time, the unknown voice is matching Nam-gyu’s in volume.

Nam-gyu’s hushed panicked voice cuts off the other, unfamiliar voice, “I don’t have the money okay…” a sharp breath rings through the apartment, like he’s waiting to get hit for saying the truth. Moments pass with no sign of altercation, Nam-gyu lets out a breath, “I promise I will get it to you end of the month, with interest even!” He says, pleading with the stranger in your home.

“End of the month. 40% interest. All paid in cash.”

You assume Nam-Gyu gives some kind of nod of affirmation or something silent to show he agreed because the stranger scoffs and lets out a gruff ‘good’.

“But you’re also so fucking stupid if you think I’m leaving empty handed.”

Your breath hitches, it all happens so fast- you hear a sharp smack, a large thud against the wall then the telltale sign of a gun cocking.

Your hand hovers over the door, getting ready to say fuck it and deal with whatever the fuck was going on inside the apartment you paid rent for, but the scuffle subsides just as soon as it started. You hear footsteps stomping away. Presumably Nam-gyu’s footsteps following. Then the front door closing and locking. Stepping back from your bedroom door you let out a shaky breath, hand still hovering over the door knob as if going out there would do anything.

Nam-gyu’s bedroom door slamming shut, vibrating your bedroom walls answers any conflicting thoughts you had- he’s in his room so it only made sense for you to stay in yours.

The day after, you could see Nam-gyu had a busted lip. You wanted to say nothing about it- you’ve lived with him for long enough, you know he was not the type to want to be ‘checked on’. You really did try, but the really sketchy random man that Nam-Gyu let into your apartment, with a gun, had seemingly beat him up- you had to ask.

At an odd time in the week, when both of you happened to cross paths in the kitchen, you genuinely had no ability to stop yourself. Up close you could see not only was his lip busted, his cheek and temple were bruised.

“Did you get fucking pistol whipped!?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself. You’re slamming your cup noodles on the counter and gawking at his face.

Nam-gyu’s eye visibly twitches at your words, his hands that were washing the bowl he just used, clench around the cheap plastic- warping and bending the material. “Mind your fucking business.” He shakes his head, the hair that was once tucked behind his ears falls over his face, shielding the bruises from your point of view.

His response comes through clenched teeth, like he’s holding himself back- giving you the benefit of the doubt- maybe you’ll listen and mind your own like he wanted.

“Mind my business?!?” You scoff, whipping your head to the side to face him. “You have any idea how fucking sketchy that was last night?! You coming to tell me to stay in my room like some scared deer? I fucking heard a pistol cocking, and now I see you messed up and bruised?!”

The comparison of him to a scared deer makes Nam-Gyu practically throw the dish back into the sink, hands coming to grasp at the counter. “I told you to mind your business. Seriously, I don’t need you up my ass. It’s my fucking job. I don’t need you worrying about me.” When he finishes speaking, he furrows his eyebrows, how the hell did you know the distinct sound of a gun cocking?

“Okay, your busted fucking face aside,” Nam-Gyu cringes at your words, you can see the insult he’s getting ready to throw back at you but you speak again, “I pay rent here too, and you let in some stranger who very obviously had a gun and who may or may not have pistol whipped you.”

That seemed to be all Nam-Gyu could take, and it wasn’t even much, you just seemed to set him off. “You answered the fucking ad. You don’t like it? Move the fuck out, I genuinely don’t care, it would be better with you not here. You have no idea what it’s like to do what I do, keep your mouth shut and let me do my damn job or pack your shit.”

With that he’s storming away. You’re left there in the kitchen, mouth hung open as you’re trying to process the interaction you just had.

Neither of you mentioned that night in the days and months to come, you both acted like it never happened.

The tension between you two didn’t change one bit. Since then his view on you seemed to change. He seemed to hate you more than he did before- so in turn you hated him more.

He seemed to think you were some prissy ‘better than you’ girl. He remembered he came to that conclusion rather quick after that one night. It all happened one day after you came home from work. It was the first time he got any idea of your work life. Your schedules often differed so he hardly ever saw you. And when he did you pissed him off too much for him to care about your intricacies.

You worked a boring office job that had you practically pulling your hair out but you had to dress all formal. It was probably fancy and paid well. Hell, you probably have gone on company vacations all expenses paid on the regular….that’s what Nam-Gyu believed you did.

There was one night, you came home late, talking on the phone with your boss about some analytics and statistics for the company, getting rather annoyed that you still have to deal with his even on your off time. You’re spouting words he can’t even conceptualize a definition of and practically throwing your winter jacket on the hook. It was hard enough that the metal of the rack vibrates and makes a ringing sound.

He watched as you kicked off your heels in the entry way and shrugged off your blazer off. You didn’t even realize Nam-Gyu was in the living room right in front of the door, frozen with his nose hovering over a fresh line of white powder that laid on the coffee table. You end the phone call and turn around. When you see him you both look at each other wide eyed. You could see the way his eyes narrowed even so slightly. You didn’t have the capacity to deal with this situation so recent into your tenure as roommates and you’re far too tired. Also, who were you to judge- you weren’t a saint yourself. So you quickly saunter off to your room like an uneasy fawn in your dress pants and silk blouse, blazer hungover your shoulder.

You’re running off to your room to avoid a fight with him like normal, you never stay to talk with him anyways! Quite frankly, he was miserable to be around. He was a dick and had little to no people skills. But when you got off the horrendous phone call with your boss and walk into your apartment to see your roommate railing blow off your coffee table….you just want to go to bed and crack open the fresh pack of weed gummies you got- hoping to relax after a long day.

But he takes your hasty and awkward departure as you thought you were better than him. Such a pretty, innocent thing all dressed up in expensive clothes (they were thrifted) and heels- coming back to the apartment from a cute office job where you’re probably the heartthrob of the office making a comfortable living (you weren’t and you were barely scraping by)- to see him, a lowlife club promoter who gets paid minimum wage, who can hardly pay his share of the rent, railing lines off the coffee table you bought for the living room. You also saw him come home that one night when he tried the new injectable drug for a bit of extra cash at the club….Yeah, you definitely think you’re so much better than him. You had one over him, he knew little to nothing about you and yet you just saw him dealing with a huge vice of his on more than one occasion….yeah, no, he didn’t like that. It just made him hate you more.

The thing was, you weren’t the overly perfect, prissy, princess image that he crafted his mind- you were far from it. Admittedly the office job was a front, it paid like shit and it was at some sleazy loan shark firm, you were just forced to dress in overly formal attire to look more ‘inviting and appealing’ to the unsuspecting souls who walked in the door…it was a front for your real source of income. Drug dealing. That was what you hid from him. He seemed to have no idea about your side hustle, no matter how many times you’ve come home beat up and bruised after you were jumped or were involved in a deal gone bad- he was none the wiser.

You weren’t proud of it and you never intended to get involved with that scene but one too many months of not having enough rent or getting evicted when you were too behind on payments; you had to do something. The opportunity fell in your hand when you went out one night with a group of friends to some shady club.

Admittedly, you were the odd one of the group, you weren’t too keen on dancing on random men like your friends were, you were side eyeing any man that tried to get near you and you looked annoyed you were even there (you were, you wanted to go home), and you didn’t buy any of the overpriced drinks from the bar, and you had a neon ‘guest’ band meaning you didn’t even pay the cover to get in; someone else did- so maybe that’s why your boss scouted you out. You seemed like you could handle your own- you could. You weren’t a violent person but you were always down to fight if it got down to it. You’d protect your friends and throw a strategic punch square in a grown mans jaw if you needed to. And you were down on your luck, you needed money.

So when you left the bar, your friend’s long gone; he approached you. Of course, at first you were uneasy by a grown man who appeared to be in his 50’s approaching you. But with some slick talk, speaking to you like a wise Italian grandfather with a fortune to pass down to you, and a rough estimate of what you could be making- you accepted the job. Making drug runs for this man and his ring, dealing to people that he didn’t feel like going to or dealing with. Of course it was shitty, dangerous work…but you were desperate. You wanted to get enough to allow you to quit your other job, get enough to keep you steady for a bit while you find better work…..that was also 4 years ago.

Nam-gyu knew none of that though, it wasn’t exactly something you were proud of. You most certainly weren’t going to tell him either. Doing the drugs and being the dealer are two different things…as much as you despised what you were doing, you made enough money to keep you afloat and that’s all that you cared about for the time being. You knew the guys you worked for weren’t lacing the stuff you sold so it made you feel a little better…you still didn’t like doing it. But..It was better than where you were. So you continued to do it.

Nam-Gyu was always far too drunk, high, sleep deprived, or a combination of all three to ever notice the black eye you had spontaneously gotten or the bruised and split knuckles you came home with far too often. It was not an easy job. You were intertwined with some shady people, directed to go off to bad places late at night by yourself- you had to defend yourself. And you knew how to do it well! That’s what kept you alive and kept you in business.

It was a side of you that you only felt shame for, a dirty secret that was quite literally the only thing that could keep you afloat in this economy. That should say something in itself, insight some sort of worldwide change to make it where you weren’t driven to do this, it wasn’t some dream land though; it was real life.

Recently, your boss had given you the details on a couple deals that could set you up for a long while. Two deals that could even get you out of the drug dealing ring for good! Of course, the bigger the deal the more dangerous and the more risky….however, the higher reward was far too perfect to pass up.

When your boss texted you with a location and a time- you responded promptly. After putting on some jeans, a tight fitted top and a jacket, you’re headed out the door and hauling a taxi to get to where you were told to be. Club Pentagon.

You were directed by your boss through text message to use a fake name once in the club, walk to the back of the club to the VIP rooms, give the fake name and you would be led to the buyer. Off rip, you were warned to keep your sarcasm to a minimum, to be polite and kiss ass- this was a big deal that your boss could not lose. The price of the product was firm, it always has been, but you knew the game- make them think they can bargain or are already get a bargain to get in good with the clientele.

Wanting the pay out, the money that could get you out of this job and the shitty office job you have- you comply, enter into the club, and maneuver your way to the back of the club. The VIP area was lit up by a bright neon sign that nearly made you have a headache. You walk over to the attendant standing at the lux velvet ropes that separated you from a dimly lit hallway lined with multiple doors on either side.

“Name?” The attendant says looking down at you with a skeptical look. You’re thankful you took the couple minutes to remember the fake name your boss gave you because the man behind the velvet ropes that held the list of names was a hulking older man who was downright terrifying to look at. You relay the fake name expertly like it was the name you were given at birth.

The bouncer looks over the list he has in his hands, finds the name you relayed and nods. “Alright, you can follow me.” The bouncer’s demeanor changed, he’s more serious- scrutinizing you and looking you up and down with a threatening stare. When he turns to lead you down the dim hallway he makes a show of lifting his shirt up on his hip to flash the shiny gun that’s holstered there.

You swallow thickly, it’s nothing you haven’t done before but the proper place of the deal makes you uneasy. It isn’t an open area in the middle of the street, it isn’t some rundown house where you know the individuals who live there have nothing but shitty knives- this is the big deal.

Step after step down the hallway, more armed men join you in a makeshift entourage that escorts you down this back hallway of the club. You begin to wonder if you’re even in the same building- turn after turn you’re believing that there’s no way this hallway could possibly be attached to the club.

Even if you wanted to stop- to turn back now the group of armed club workers prevent you from turning around, they’re so close to you that even if you side step a centimeter off, you’re bumping into one of them and being shoulder checked back in line.

After what seems like forever, you’re brought to a room- on either side of the closed door another guard. You’re led into the small room, it was very obviously a room used for private dances.

You weren’t graced with a stripper, you were met with multiple men seated on a sofa with even more bodyguards around them. Seated in the middle of the couch was a man who looked to be the buyer- expensive suit, gaudy chains and rings layered with diamond and gemstones that are worth more than 6 months rent for one crystal that inlays the jewelry.

Straightening your posture and putting on a brave face, wanting nothing more than to get this deal over with so you can get your cut of the money, you nod politely to the man.

“Didn’t think you’d be the one he’d send.” The man says, eyeing you up and down like you’re a meal ready to be eaten- you hate it.

“You told him to send his best man for the deal, here I am.” You say simply, keeping your hands stuffed in your jacket pocket to hide your trembling fingers. You’ve done hundreds of deals, thousands even, but this was so much different. This was the big league. This was large amounts of high priced substances going from one kingpin to another.

With a scoff, the man motions to a brief case laid on the table, one of the guards opens the case with a click. Bundles of money sit in the briefcase, pressed and pristine. The client, the man who quite literally holds your life in his hands at the moment, nods to you.

Taking a step forward, you eye the cash, “that’s not what was agreed upon.” It’s easy to tell, you know what this large amount is supposed to look like, and what was in this small briefcase was not it. You look back up to the man, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Ahhh, smart one.” He says mockingly, talking down on you with an evil undertone. “Who would have thought.” He jokes, elbowing the people next to him to try and get them in on the shitty joke he was making. “The rest of the money should be coming shortly…what kind of man would have this much money readily available, darling.”

The name makes you cringe, the whole interaction is making you feel more uneasy by the second.

The room shifts when the door opens, everyone standing to attention, “here’s the money boss.”

Your eyes widen, you can only see the back of the person as they walk in that room- but you know that voice. And when the person who entered turns, backpack slung over the shoulder. You know you’re fucked.

Nam-Gyu.

He seems just as shocked, if not more than you to see you out of all people standing in the room for one of the biggest drug deals his boss was about to complete. He honestly thinks he’s hallucinating.

The views you two had of each other collapse in on themselves like exploding stars. It’s so fast and violent that you feel like you might throw up. Sure you knew Nam-Gyu wasn’t the greatest guy, you knew he had to work somewhere that was open overnights- but you would have never thought he would be working at the club and for the sleazy, shitty, man you’re doing business with. And Nam-Gyu? Well he was fucking dumbfounded. He saw you as some holier than thou office worker who was early to rise early to bed. He thought you were some good girl who would never end up in a place like this.

Yet here you both were.

“Is there a problem?” The boss says, glaring at Nam-Gyu who was paused by the doorway eyeing you. He shakes his head, it’s sporadic and anxious like he’s shaking his own surprise out of his head. “Uh no, sorry not at all.” Nam-Gyu responds, hand anxiously gripping at the strap of the backpack that was slung over his shoulder.

The big boss laughs, motioning Nam-Gyu over and taking the backpack from him. “Just partied too hard, hm?! That’s what I like to hear!”

Nam-Gyu laughs, it’s so uneasy and awkward, no one but you seems to notice. His wide eyes stay trained on you as he moves within the room. Like he was told prior to the deal, he takes his place behind the couch.

He tries hard to get rid of the pit that’s forming in his stomach. There’s no fucking way that you were the dealer in this big deal that his boss was talking about for months. The one he knows was a set-up, he was part of the planning!!

Take the backpack, you check the money, and while you’re busy- head down in the cheap bag to count your earnings, the one guard in the back left corner was supposed to take you out. Clean and simple. Something Nam-Gyu had been involved in countless of times, something he had no issue with doing. Fuck, he was the one that was tasked with getting rid of the fucking corpses! He should be completely fine and locked in as Thanos would say.

He oddly starts thinking of Thanos then, about the many times he’s come over and asked about Nam-Gyu’s ‘sexy lil roommate’. He hated when Thanos would call you that, he told himself that it was just him being respectful- Thanos shouldn’t be talking to you like that….but then again when has Nam-Gyu ever cared about being respectful. Thanos would always tell Nam-Gyu that he should make a move, that he obviously has a crush on you. Nam-Gyu would always deny it, brushing him off and inevitably insulting you to make his point.

But now….Thanos assertions were starting to make sense…the longer he spends in this room, knowing that you would take the place of whatever unknown corpse…yeah, he’s going to fucking throw up.

It probably wasn’t a good idea for him to take a bunch of drugs before this either- to his defense he didn’t fucking think it was going to be you in this deal!! He normally could go into this crossfaded and be completely fine but now the sweat on his forehead gets worse and he’s genuinely trying to not vomit.

“Well alright then,” Nam-Gyu’s boss’s voice brings him out from the memory riddled haze he was in, his worried eyes look over to you then to his boss, “As you can see, here’s the rest of the money.” Nam-Gyu’s boss finishes, grabbing the backpack and tossing is unceremoniously to your feet.

You quirk up an eyebrow and scoff, “you’re going to treat me like a dog? I have the deal of a life time for you and you’re treating me like this?” You look back down at the bag, making a show of not moving an inch to pick it up. “Your mother ever teach you manners?”

Nam-Gyu doesn’t know whether to be turned on at your boldness in such a situation or fear for your life- he knows the people he works for all too well. They don’t take kindly to people talking back.

“Oooohh~ feisty. Seems like he picked a good one.”

Nam-Gyu lets out a shuddering breath, thankful that his boss seemed to enjoy your attitude and are getting some sort of praise from his boss. He knows what’s coming, the inevitable plan that will sour the deal but leave the boss of the club with money back in his pocket and some free drugs.

With a raise of one singular finger, the boss motions for one of the guards to pick up the backpack. The large man crosses the room and with an outstretched hand, holds the bag out to you.

You take it, nodding in thanks with a small smirk quirked up at the corners of your lips. “Much better, thank you.” Your fingers fiddle with the zippers of the backpack. Placing a strap of the backpack over one arm, you slide the duffle bag you had off your shoulder and drop it to the table.

You zip it open effortlessly, hovering close by it as you show off the copious amounts of drugs inside. “All here, like you ordered. If you sell this without issue then my boss said he has no problem continuing business.”

Nam-Gyu’s boss inspects the substances packaged in various bags and nods. “Looks good to me, why don’t ya make sure that’s a good enough payout for ya boss there sweetheart.”

When you scoff and go to open the zipper of the bag, Nam-Gyu decides he can’t watch what was to come. He can’t watch you die over some fuck ass drug deal.

He moves quickly, shoulder checking the guard, his coworker, that stood next to him and on holsters the gun hanging on the man’s thigh. With one fluid moment, he’s raising his arm and aiming at the guard in the room that he knew was tasked to kill you.

A crack rips through the room, everyone ducking and beginning to become frantic. Nam-Gyu’s intended target is struck in the leg and drops to the ground.

Instantly the room turns into chaos, the men on the couch hold up right and unholster their weapons. You get pulled into a headlock, gun to your temple as they try to keep you as some sort of hostage for negotiation. Who they’d negotiate with? All you knew was whoever it was on the receiving end of that bargain would most likely let you die over some drugs.

With fluidity that takes your captor off guard, you’re showing his stomach, forcing him back and yanking his own fire arm from his hand. You have no time to celebrate, you’re running back and trying to figure out what the fuck went wrong. Nam-Gyu shot one of his own men? Why the fuck would he do that?!! You genuinely have no time to figure it out in this moment.

Bodies are clashing together, fists are flying, there’s definitely blood on the floor and bullets are ricocheting off the walls. At this point it’s so chaotic you’re almost 100% positive some of the guards in the room got confused and have started fighting people on their side. Your eyes land on the door you walked into the room from, you could absolutely make it if you booked it hard enough. But then you see the money that litters the floor- spilled from the backpack that lays on the ground- lost to the chaos of the room.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you bolt to the bag. Sliding on the floor you’re quickly scooping up stray bills into the bag and hauling it over your shoulder. Whipping your head to the door, you plot your escape. Moving to a squatting position you’re propelling yourself upwards and breaking into a sprint.

One stride. Two. Three. You’re nearly there, you can almost reach out to the doorknob.

Pain erupts from the side of your skull, you’re plummeting down to the floor before you can even look at whatever, or rather whoever just hit you. A large weight crushes your stomach, making it hard to breathe. Your vision is hazy and it burns to open your eyes but you have to keep going.

The boss, Nam-Gyu’s boss, the big wig who was supposed to receive the drugs you were ordered to sell is on top of you, one hand on your sternum and the other raised in a fist. You struggle, wiggling your body to try and get him off of you but the weight of a grown man is much more than you hoped for.

The first hit comes down hard, you immediately taste blood and your mind is filled with static. Oddly enough, the only thought that forms is one of Nam-Gyu. He was in the room, started the gunfire and is still probably fighting. You hoped that he got out, you didn’t know why…he was a complete dick to you most times, but you just hoped he was out of this shit show- alive.

You think you may have passed out, maybe gotten a few more hits from the man who had you pinned, you’re not too sure. Your eyes are forced open when someone is practically ripping you from the ground.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not dying on me.” The second Nam-Gyu’s voice fills your ears, you feel like you’ve gotten a second win. You laugh weakly and fall into his arms, gunshots still ringing out in the room. “C’mon!” Nam-Gyu taps lightly at your cheek, waking you up more. “You can fall on me and be all weak later, we gotta get the fuck on!”

“‘M not weak.” You mumble out, standing up straight and wiping the blood from your lip. Nam-Gyu groans and yanks you by your wrist, “Yeah, I know. You definitely aren’t,” he says, voice laced with a weird admiration. He yanks you quickly, you fall instep with him as he ducks and weaves you through people jumping to get you.

You two practically fall through the door, the wood splintering as you barrel out into the dimly lit hallway.

Nam-Gyu has your wrist in an iron grip as he’s pulling you out of the room and down the corridors you came from. He knows if he can at least get you two to the main part of the club- they’ll have to stop shooting. He hopes.

You fumble over your steps as you try to get a hold of the situation, but the way Nam-Gyu is pulling you, you have no option but to keep up with him. Bullets are whizzing past you and each one that flys by, you’re thanking whatever part of the universe that is listing for your pursuers shitty aim.

“C’mon, keep the fuck up.” Nam-Gyu shouts back to you, his voice laced with an anger he truly had no reason to harbor, “they’ve fucking leveled business for less than a shitty drug deal, we’ve got to fucking go!”

“Motherfucker! I’m trying! It’s not my fault you’re 80% legs. I’m well aware that if we stop running we’re going to get shot!” You yell back, way too sarcastic given your situation. If this wasn’t life or death, Nam-Gyu was sure that he would have laughed at your insult.

You’re so lucky he is guiding you, the more you turn down identical hallways, the more you’re not sure where you even are. You’re about to ask if he has any sort of plan when you feel a burning sensation blooming across your shoulder, “Shit-!”

Trying the best you can, you turn to look, blood has started to stain your skin but you can tell it’s not deep, a graze at best- but too close for your liking. “Nam-Gyu! You gotta plan?! They’re fuckin’ gaining on us here…and oh my fucking god!! Are those fucking attack dogs?!”

Your words turn into a desperate tone when you turn back to see some of the men on your trail stop and begin to mess with large collars on three large dogs. The canines were growling and snarling, foaming at the mouth and already jumping at the chance to chase you two like prey.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Nam-Gyu mutters to himself, this really couldn’t get any worse. They’ve nearly almost hit you, he knows he’s been grazed by the hot metal of a bullet too, and now the fucking dogs- he’s not even sure if you two could make it.

He’s quickly shaking his head of the thought, “Just keep fucking running!”

And you do.

After what seems like too long you and Nam-Gyu practically barrel onto the dance floor of the club. Almost immediately as your feet hit the floor of the main area, the gunfire in your direction ceases. With you two no longer in line of sight and meddling in a sea of club goers, your pursuers also don’t release the attack dogs. There’s no way you’re out of the clear though, they still had bouncers on your ass. You don’t falter, Nam-gyu keeps pulling you through the sea of people.

Nam-Gyu practically shoulder checks the front door open, hand still gripped tight around your wrist and pulling you along with him.

When the night breeze hits you, you’re taking the biggest breath in possible. You want to stop running, your feet are so sore and your body is so tired. Without the threat of being shot, you’re realizing just how bad you got injured within the fight in the room the deal was in. Your head is spinning and your vision is starting to get blurry the longer you keep running.

He doesn’t know why he does it, he should just leave you there on the sidewalk, but he can’t. Something in him is screaming at him to protect you, to take care of you. It’s a split second decision, one that would definitely help both of you in the clear- he yanks you by the wrist closer to him and hauls your tired form onto his back.

You have no energy to protest, the second your feet leave the concrete and you’re weightless, your head is dropping to his shoulder and your eyes are squeezing shut to try and fight off the migraine that’s beginning to form.

You’re woken up from a micro-sleep that you didn’t even realize you had taken when you’re placed down into the seat of a car. You’re jolting awake instantly, not even realizing where you were or who you were with before you fell asleep. You’re waking up about to fight whoever it was that had you in their car.

“Hey, easy! Just trying to get you buckled in…”

Nam-Gyu’s voice makes you settle, your head turning to look outside the door to the individual who was now leaning over and buckling you in the car. Your throat is far too dry to speak, you’re blinking at him like a deer caught in headlights. It’s cute he thinks. He wants to admire you for a moment but he soon hears the back door of the club slam open.

Not taking any chances, he slams the passenger door and is hopping into the drivers seat in under 10 seconds. A shrill screech comes from the tires as you two peel out of the parking lot.

The ride home is silent, yet you could cut the tension with a knife. It’s so tangible you’re afraid it might suffocate you. You try your best not to look over into the drivers seat where you know Nam-Gyu was seated, probably white-knuckling the steering wheel. Your throat is dry, your body is sore, and you’re positive you can taste blood.

The drive back to your shared apartment was horrible, your anxiety stayed through the roof and neither of you spoke a single word. The only sound that resounded throughout the car was the dull hum of the AC and Nam-Gyu gritting his teeth.

He practically spins out when he pulls into the driveway; wheels skidding on the concrete of the driveway in a shrill screech. You want to at least thank him for giving you a ride back (even if he or the situation yall were in didn’t give you much of an option), but Nam-gyu is shifting the car into park and exiting the vehicle quickly. You jump when he slams the door, walking up to the front door without so much as looking back at you.

You scramble to follow him, barely catching the front door with your palm as he walks inside. Quickly, you close and lock the door behind you- dead bolting all the locks and checking them over and over- out of habit or anxiety about one of the people you two just beat and robbed blind coming after you- you weren’t sure. Swallowing thickly, back against the front door as if it was about to be kicked in, you open your mouth to speak. “Look I didn’t mean-“

“Shut up. Just sit down.”

You shut your mouth and glare at Nam-Gyu’s back as he walks to a cabinet in your kitchen, where the first aid kit was. “We need to talk-“

“Not right now we don’t. Sit the fuck down.” Nam-gyu whips his head back to face you, leaning over the counter with a disheveled look across his bruised face. “You’re fucking bleeding.”

Nam-gyu simply states, walking back over to where you stood speechless. He harshly shoves your shoulder, snapping you out of your stupefied trance and pushing you down to a seating position onto the couch behind you.

He doesn’t give you a moment to protest or even a moment to breathe, he’s hovering over you and grabbing your chin in his hand. Tilting your face every which way possible, he examines the extent of your injuries with a dejected look.

“You don’t look any better.”

He can’t help it, your statement makes him let out a dry laugh, it’s quiet and quick, but a laugh not the less. “You don’t know when to stop talking.” Nam-gyu says gruffly as he begins to clean up your wounds.

“I didn’t need your help I had it covered…I’ve done shit like this before you know.” Nam-gyu pauses, looking at you like you have three heads and just told him the sky was green- you have done something like that before?!

It made sense now that he thought about it, you wouldn’t have even been the one to come on behalf of the drug seller if you didn’t have some sort of credibility. The longer he thinks about it, the more he’s pissed. How did he miss this seemingly huge thing about you?! You, out of all people, a fucking drug dealer?! You willingly got into the business when you could have had other options (you didn’t) and put yourself into this danger.

He didn’t know why but the thought made him physically ill- and in change it made him even madder. Why the fuck did he even care?!? He shouldn’t care, you were just his pretty roommate he used to get a break on the rent. You were the prissy girl who would come home and glare at him for smoking in the apartment (you were never glaring, you were just coming home high yourself).

Yet, here he was, just fucking lost his job to save you like some story book hero and now patching you up. This wasn’t like him and that alone made him uneasy. But each time his hand brushed the cool rag against your split lip with you looking up at him with a cute little glare, his heart felt like it was going to explode.

He scoffs, a pathetic attempt of a response as he breaks himself out of the haze he was in. His fingers work quickly, as if touching you was physically burning him. Nam-gyu throws the cool rag down and reaches to the first aid kit, fishing out a few bandages.

When his fingers graze against your scalp, where you know you’re bleeding from, you suck in a sharp breath. Yes, it stings, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. It’s his closeness.

Nam-Gyu is leaned over you, one hand holding the top of your head- keeping you still- fingers threaded into your hair to part it away from the wound. The other hand dances along the gash and works diligently to clean you up. It’s the softness of his touches, the way he’s so careful with you.

And when you look up finally, catching the way he looks- you’re a goner. He looks at the wound like it’s all his fault, like he had some obligation to protect you and he failed. It was odd, you never had someone dote on you like this, it made it all the more weird to have Nam-Gyu out of all people show you this kindness.

Feeling your intense stare on him, Nam-gyu looks down. When he sees you looking up at him, he begins to over heat. Was it this hot when you two first got back?! Fuck, you do look so pretty like this..

You watch as he bites the corner of his bottom lip, ripping his dark eyes away from you and hurriedly finishes his work on your injury. Soon, he’s closing the lid on the first aid kit and pulling away from you.

“Don’t do anything stupid, you’ll open it up and you’ll really have to get stitches.” Nam-gyu scolds in a low, monotone voice. He’s throwing away the wrappers and bloody gauze and coming right back to the couch, sitting next to you.

You want to say something, thank him maybe, but you can’t form any words. From fumbling the deal, nearly getting killed, having Nam-Gyu save you and patch you up like a knight in shining armor- it was all so much. Your mind was spinning and the tension within the room grew thicker the longer you two sat in silence.

“You really didn’t have to-“ your pathetic attempt at breaking the silence is cut off by Nam-Gyu. “I didn’t have to but I did. Enough about it.” His voice is rough, cracking with his terse words. “I could have taken care of it myself, ive been doing this for-“

“Shut the fuck up and quit whining about it. It happened it’s over with” Again, he’s cutting you off, “I don’t give a fuck how long you’ve been ‘in the business’ I wasn’t going to let you get your ass beat over some drugs.” When he says it, he feels like he’s dreaming. There was no way you were drug dealing this whole time. Your pretty little office-working self getting involved in one of the most fucked up and dangerous side gigs possible?! It made him sick.

He was never a good roommate. Hell, he was not even a good person to you most the time- but the idea of you having been so down bad on your luck, so beaten down by life and forced into the line of work solely to make sure you survived- it made him want to throw up. Nam-gyu didn’t find himself around great company either but that was normal for him. He was antisocial and a jackass, working at a sleazy club, doing sleazy shit for a quick buck; it was normal for someone like him. It shouldn’t have been normal for someone like you.

Nam-gyu runs his hands through his hair, drained and exhausted from the altercation, the silence fills the living room awkwardly yet again. His dark eyes flick over to the side of the couch you sat in, your mouth closing as if you decided against saying anything else. You look like a kicked puppy, shrinking into the couch as if you’re being scolded. Bruises are blooming over your face, a horrid reminder that Nam-Gyu didn’t make it out of the VIP room with you quick enough.

The last thing you need is for him to be mad at you. Your life was dangled in front of your eyes like some sick prize to be won at a fair- an occasion that had happened to you one too many times while you worked dealing. He knows that this wasn’t something new to you, you weren’t some soft sheltered girl that needed to be scolded for getting involved with the big bad boys.

“I’m…” Nam-gyu breaks the silence, sighing deeply as he tries to find the words he wants to say. He wasn’t good at this. Comforting was never a word that could be used to describe him. “I know you could have handled yourself.”

His words make you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You try to relax, try to relax your shoulders and straighten your back, to sit like an adult and not a child who was in trouble. “But I wasn’t going to sit there and just let you get your ass killed.”

“You’re stupid as shit for getting involved in the line of work and you’re dumb as fuck for even thinking I wouldn’t help you.” Nam-gyu seethes, he can’t even make eye contact with you. He’s leaned forward on his knees, eyes trained on the carpet, legs bouncing anxiously. You can even see, damn near hear, the gritting of his teeth as he clenches his jaw.

He hates this. Part of him wished he didn’t jump in and pull you out of there. It would mean he didn’t have to confront the feelings he’s been ignoring.

Nam-Gyu was for one, not a great person. He usually didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. That’s how the world worked! If he wasn’t number one in his world he wouldn’t be here. Everything he did was only to benefit himself. Putting up the ad for a roommate that you answered to? Yeah, he only did that so he could have a bit of extra cash to spend on drugs….that was another fault of his- he could be strapped for cash and barely make rent but he always made sure he had his fix of whatever substance he could find and here he was bitching you out for dealing the drugs he did on a regular. How hypocritical.

He was painfully aware of how hypocritical he was. You would have made this so much easier if you were the pretty little office girl he thought you were this whole time. But you weren’t, you were some badass drug dealer who could throw a punch. Who knows how many drug houses you’ve been to, how many fights you’ve been in or how many times you almost lost your life. He almost hates you for deceiving him in such a way….almost.

You cringe at his words, they make your gut ache and heart drop. You felt stupid for arguing with him, you know if you were in his situation- you would have done the same thing. It’s human nature. “Yeah but your job….” You say in a soft sigh, settling back into the old couch you two sat in. “There’s no way they’re going to let you back…I made you lose your job.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. I did the shit on my own.” He grumbles, his leg bouncing anxiously. He looks forward, at the ground, staring at seemingly nothing as he tries everything in his ability to not look at you. “Okay, smartass.” You respond, rubbing a hand against your forehead. “What I’m trying to say is because you fought your own fucking boss for my sake you lost your job and now don’t have anyway to make rent.”

It pissed him off how you were right, how did you know how much money he did or didn’t have?! Was he really that much of an open book.

“It’s fine. I nearly killed your boss. We’re even.” He grumbles, you can only sigh in response. In the fight you both had somehow attacked the other’s boss. Nam-gyu did throw the first punch, that was a fact. He effectively ended the deal before it even started. “So now I’m assuming you don’t have rent either right?” He adds.

“Nope. Broke as fuck since I didn’t finish the deal.”

After your response you sit in silence, it’s awkward but something seems to stir in both of you. Both of you are oddly calm for just admitting to not having any rent money for the month and effectively becoming black listed from the club / drug scene. Neither of you had a good source of income now.

After what felt like ages, you both speak at the same time.

“I robbed your boss at the club”

“I stole the drugs you were supposed to sell.”

Both of you turn, looking at each other incredulously.

“You lying fuck! Oh my god I thought I was going to be the reason you were evicted.” You say looking at the mass amounts of the drugs that you were supposed to sell. “Yeah…figured we could flip it…make rent and then some, y’know.” Nam-gyu says sheepishly.

“Wait.. you robbed my fucking boss!?” Nam-gyu immediately shouts looking at you like you have grown a second head. The man he has hated for years- the one who paid him below minimum wage just so he could pocket the money- you robbed him?! Nam-Gyu has wanted to rob that fucker blind for years! But with all the security and his need for a job, he never tried it.

“Well yeah…” you shrug, hand rubbing the back of your neck. “It was easy really…he had the cash laid out in gaudy fucking stacks on the table and he broke his ring when he hit me sooo…” you laugh awkwardly, “when shit hit the fan and they were distracted…” You turn and grab your bag you had been carrying, dumping it out onto the couch.

Wads of cash tumble out the bag, some falling to the couch cushions, some bouncing off the plush seat to settle on the floor. After what was too many bundles of cash and crumpled single bills fall out of your bag, a broken, diamond incrusted falls out like a perfect cherry on top.

“…I took what I could get when you grabbed me.” You finish, smiling proudly at him.

Nam-Gyu looks at you bewildered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It’s like his whole idea he had of you in his head had been shattered- it had.

He moves before he can even realize what he’s doing, he’s launching over the couch and grabbing your face in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks.

A wide, proud, almost grateful smile stretches across his lips, “You have no fucking idea how amazing you are- oh my fucking god- so fucking smart! So perfect!”

Your eyes widen when he speaks, each word that you hear makes your heart hammer into your chest more and more, you’re not even sure what to respond. He’s so close you’re breathing in each other’s air.

“I-“ your words pathetically fall into a cracked sound that is somewhat of a squeak. You can’t even form a response, you were certain praise like that would never have fallen from Nam-gyu’s mouth, let alone be directed at you.

Your surprise makes him realize exactly what he said. His eyes dart around nervously, trying to think of anything he could say to act nonchalant- there literally is nothing. Not with what he said, not with the position you two were in.

A moment of silence washes over you both, the air thick with a tension neither of you had noticed until now. You’re not sure who moved first but after a long moment, you two are leaning in and closing the distance.

Your lips mold with his, admittedly it’s a bit tense and awkward at first, both of you unsure and nervous. It takes a few seconds but both of you ease into it, lips moving slowly and meticulously against one another, melting into the feeling. It was so gentle, tender even. Something neither of you had experienced.

You raise a shaky hand, placing it on his cheek and pulling him closer, feeling an innate need to deepen the kiss. He seems to reciprocate, his shaky hands hovering over your waist- unsure and scared- before he’s gripping at you and pulling you closer to him on the couch.

Months and months of pent up feelings of anger, desperation, and pure need are translated through the kiss. He can’t get over how you taste, so sweet, your lips are so soft. Nam-gyu has never felt anything like this, it’s a kiss that makes him feel like it’s his first one ever. It’s not, far from it but this isn’t a lustful kiss that is spur of the moment while he fucks you- it’s a slow, strategic kiss that molds your lips so perfectly with his like both of you are trying to memorize the individual lines on the others lips. He was never one for romantic shit, he always said he didn’t do relationships. You were different though.

Nam-gyu could slap himself, really, he feels so cheesy to even think something like that. You made him feel things he would never even dream of, you made him feel vulnerable in the best way.

He kisses you as if you’re the oxygen he needs to breathe, hands gripping at your waist and pulling you onto his lap. The movement makes you let out a surprised gasp, Nam-gyu swallows it down effortlessly, settling you onto his lap with ease like you’ve been there before.

When you pull back for air, he’s chasing your lips like this would be the only time he will ever get to kiss you. With a smile on your lips, you’re kissing him once again, hands threading themselves into the dark hair at the back of his neck. Nam-gyu’s hands hastily shove up the shirt you had on. He’s placing his palms on your ribcage, thumbs just under your breasts, and pulling you into him.

When he needs air, despite depriving himself of it for far too long, he’s slumping into the couch bonelessly, eyes fluttering open to look at you sat so prettily on his lap. Despite being bruised and still covered in dried blood, he thinks you’re the most picturesque thing to have graced his field of view.

“I’m sorry I was….am…such a dick..” Nam-Gyu mumbles, eyes trailing over your body trying to memorize every intricacy. “You don’t deserve it..I was a horrible roommate, I was-“

“Annndd~ I literally was literally dealing drugs and tried to kill your boss in front of you- I’m not a saint either.” You say, one of your hands releasing his hair to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the skin.

Nam-Gyu, much to your surprise, doesn’t shy away from your touch, he’s turning his face into your hand and nuzzling your palm. “Still…” he huffs, lips brushing against your palm. He pouts like a dejected kid, mind racing through every single time he had argued with you or was more than an unsavory roommate.

You let out a yelp when he nips at your skin, “What the fuck was that for?!”

“That’s for not fucking telling me you were some badass drug dealer, here I was thinking you were some prissy office siren who never did drugs- you gave me more than one glare when I was railing lines off the coffee table.” Nam-gyu chuckles, dark eyes roaming your face.

“I was fucked up high!” You laugh, pushing at his chest, “I wasn’t glaring, I can’t judge you for doing that shit, you’re a grown man- I was so fucking high my eyes were about to shut on their own while I was standing.”

Both of you begin to laugh, short chuckles and soft giggles turning into full on, boisterous laughter. It was so cheesy, both of you too caught up in your own emotions and insecurities that neither of you thought of what could be if you both just sat down and talked like adults.

“Well then, now that I know you are down for some substances~” He says, catching his breath.

“Ew, don’t say it like that”

Nam-Gyu laughs once more, shifting slightly to reach into his back pocket. He pulls out a small ziplock bag, brightly colored with a trippy design, immediately you can smell the dank aroma of weed, “Why don’t you let me roll for you, and tomorrow I can take you out properly.”

You smile, nodding, taking the bag from his hand to inspect the green flower, “you wanna take me out while I look like this?” You say lifting your free hand to point at your bruised and cut face.

“Oh hell yeah, you look tough as shit.” Nam-Gyu nods, hand dropping from your waist to tap playfully on your ass a couple times. “If you wanna heal and settle before I take you out, by all means….but I’m taking you out as soon as the bruise is gone.”

When he finishes his sentence Nam-Gyu leans in, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your bruised flesh. “I’m done being stupid, bein’ a dick…” His words trail off as he repeats every time he was an ass to you over and over in his head.

When he would turn on the washer to make she shower go cold- it wasn’t to piss you off, it was really so he could hear the cute squeal you let out and hear how you sounded yelling his name. He learned quickly he liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth.

When he would banish you from the kitchen while he was cooking, it wasn’t because he found you annoying. It was because he was distracted by your perfume. The second you walked into the kitchen, or even the living room, he could smell you. It was a scent that comforted him in the strangest way- that unfamiliarity scared him.

Nam-Gyu was a loner through and through, he loved his alone time. Hell, he hated the club scene- he’s not even sure how he does the job, it’s like the second he’s clocked in a switch is flipped and he’s on autopilot until he clocks out. All that to say, that is why he lived alone.

But, with rent too high, he needed a roommate despite how much he did not want one. And as much as he’s lied to himself, saying you were possibly the worst roommate to have- he found himself enjoying coming home to evidence of you being there. Your hair ties left on the ground, lipgloss near the front door, the various pairs of shoes that overcrowd his singular pair in the entryway- he loved it.

“You are fucking terrifying.”

“I’m sorry?!” You say with a laugh, looking down at him with your eyebrows furrowed. Your hands fall to his shoulders, pushing yourself back the slightest bit to look at him better.

He shakes his head violently, “no! Not like a bad thing…” he mumbles sheepishly, looking at you through thick lashes, “you just…make me feel things, things I don’t know if I want to feel.”

“Is that a good thing…?” You ask, uneasy, feeling like maybe the kiss you two shared was too much.

“I think.” Nam-Gyu says, his hands grip your waist harder, anchoring you to him as if he was scared he fucked this all up and you’d leave. “The more I’m around you the weirder I feel but I crave more of it…”

You laugh softly, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek, thumb brushing over the bruised skin gently. “Well then, I’d like to help you explore those weird feelings, give you what you crave..”

Nam-Gyu’s heart feels like it skips a beat, his breath is caught in his throat but he’s grinning up at you like the biggest idiot. Leaning into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm, he nods.

“Good.” He responds, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into him. Chest to chest he buries his head in the crook of your neck, nose running along your pulse point. “You can start by sleeping in my bed with me tonight.”

He’s up off the couch, carrying you down the hallway before you can even protest. In a fit of giggles you cling to him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. When he feels you tighten around him, his whole body feels warm- he could never get enough of it. And now that he has it, he’s positive that he could never be without it.

[ablobwhowrites]

dragon y/n cookie yap session

I love to imagine that y/n's true form is kinda similar to Longan Dragon Cookie's form. I imagine them to be similar ages because of them being two dragons who have been here before cookies.

Dragon y/n also has a lot of scars and stuff from cookies of the past believing they are a monster and must be killed or others from the battle against the beasts as y/n believes that cookies simply haven't seen as much as they have and never gets as much wisdom of the world because of that. Y/n is very forgiving to cookies even the ones who wounded them but the other dragons see the cookies as simply not deserving of y/n's kindness and longan dragon cookie sees this as weakness the cookies gave to y/n as no dragon should care about the weak and inferior and gets frustrated when y/n tries to argue about the cookies being good and worthy of being in this world.

Y/n doesn't deny that all cookies can never make mistakes yes they have hurt y/n before but they just believe it's just because of fear this happened. Yet something inside of them wishes to believe longan dragon cookie and the rest of the dragons but they never bring themselves to accept it even if they long for their lover who they had to leave because the cookies feared y/n and saw them as a monster who tried to take away a innocent cookie and sometimes they wish they could cut off their wings or just be a regular cookie to go back and see their lover again and have the kids and life they both wanted together but that day many never come.

I like to imagine that before the dark flour war when the four kingdom the ancients ruled were still thriving. I imagine just the civilians there had grew to like y/n as many saw them as a loyal protector and the small cookies though it was so cool to see a real dragon up in person and scholars or any kind of researchers just sketching y/n and asking so many questions about dragons that the ancients step in cause one researcher asked if they could take one of y/n's scales. I do imagine y/n helped the ancients in the dark flour war but was heavily injured after blocking a attack from dark enchantress cookie which left them weak for a long time and had to go into hibernation for a while as many cookies believe the dragon sacrificed their life for the cookies and this reached the dragons and they all believed that the cookies had killed y/n the oldest cookie seconds behind longan dragon cookie. I do imagine somehow the beast hear about this as well but that's for another time.

The ancients visited y/n after they found out that y/n was in a cave in deep hibernation as many cookies heard about this and put gifts and tributes to y/n as they slept as many weren't sure if they'll ever wake up again. (They do but hey they worried the cookies)

I imagine just y/n's cookie form covered in scars in old and new. The new ones are because y/n is sometimes a dumbass and runs into stuff because they are a bit bigger than the average cookie being a dragon older than cookie kind itself so yeah.

Also thought of this

Dragon y/n cookie: "oh Royal Margarine cookie! I heard that you ride dragons!"

Royal Margarine cookie: "oh..um yes I do, is there something wrong? Is that bad or-"

Dragon y/n cookie: "oh not at all, say you can ride me! I would love if you do. Hopefully I'm not to difficult to ride due to well, me being a bit bigger than the average dragon."

*dragon y/n thinking they just offered a fun ride in the skies with a new friend they made*

*Royal Margarine cookie thinking that's he rizzed up a hot ass dragon cookie*

Also y/n still has their heart out for their cookie lover. Hoping they find them again (they never will)

(Anyways that's it's for my yap session. If you guys like it please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you have! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[the-kr8tor]

Happy one year Katie !! Your fics have been a comfort of mine for a while and have kept me motivated day by day, whether it's through escapism or excitement of the next chapter in your series. You're inspiring, creative, and really sweet. I hope to see more years of Tumblr with you, don't get burnt out, and congratulations !! Not to sound like I'm buttering you up for a request, I truly mean it. You're a fantastic writer and are an interactive creator which is awesome to see 🫶

May I have Sea Salt in a ❣️ bottle? Hobie asking Reader to "marry" him, but on the sea (and as a Pirate) they can't really just roll up to a church and get certified. Maybe he works together with the crew to still try and throw Reader a seaside wedding anyways? (BDAS or regular pirate both welcomed !!)

Awww thank you for the kind words, angel!! That's so sweet of you to say 🥺❤️ I hope you see this and like it!!! Thank you so much for the love 💕💕

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), pirate AU, established relationship, cw food mentions, cw alcohol mention, pregnancy mention, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

One year celebration 🎉

“Would you marry me if I asked you to?”

You remember the exact words uttered beside you while you're on the edge of slumber. Hobie’s tone was soft in your ear, unsure and yet his voice never wavered. His hand never left from the curve of your bare hip, and the haziness of the late night made you think that you were already dreaming. But when you craned your head to look at him, grey eyes stared right into yours, lips curled into a wobbly and fond smile, you knew it was reality, that the question was real.

Without missing a beat, you cup his cheek. “Yeah, I would.”

That’s how it started, a gentle question, and an affectionate answer. After a lot of preparations, the next thing you know, you're standing on a white sandy beach, hand trembling against the flower bouquet as you stand in front of him. Not out of fear, but from sheer excitement. Your dress was nothing spectacular, leftover lace from a trimmed fancy dinner table linen, a small train that dragged along the beach, and silky sleeves. It’s a simple dress but beautifully hand sewn together by Yuri, handcrafted with your preference in mind. Hobie thinks it's the most marvellous wedding dress ever, nothing like all the glittering treasures he has ever seen before.

As tears collect in his grey eyes, all the things he has experienced, both good and bad, both maddening and the mundane at sea, it's all worth it to see you walking down the sandy aisle.

The captain stands there before you, he's wearing a crisp white tunic that blows gently in the wind, his guns are kept by Ned, his best man. And your captain doesn't seem to find any reason why he should carry it with him today. For once, he wants to face you without the smell of gunpowder beside him. He wants a good start to the occasion and to the marriage, without violence looking over his shoulder. Just him.

Hobie looks as handsome as ever with the sun beaming down on him, illuminating his features as if he was brought down to you from the heavens above. He could be as he gingerly takes your hand in his, like the gentle lapping of waves against the ship’s hull.

The island is peaceful, and the weather is perfect. There's barely any cloud in the blue sky, and the waves are calm, gently dancing along the shore. It's as if fate has granted you this one day of pure mirth. No cannons booming, no cutlasses unsheathed, only the gentle sniffles from the crew, and promises uttered softly amidst the waves.

Since the captain himself is the one getting married, Hobie asked Finn to officiate it, to which the man was almost in tears when he said and yes, and by the time Hobie was slipping the ring on your finger, he was trying to act tough, but you can see the tears clinging in his lashes. It's the same ring that Hobie specifically commissioned, it's made from the same metal as his cutlass that he had melted off to be used as the pair of rings. It's no longer a blade that's meant to cut, but something that symbolises the shared love that wouldn't have blossomed without its help.

The two of you savoured each minute of the ceremony with his warm hands around yours. He knows that the marriage isn't bound by law or any higher being, there's no papers to sign, or an actual officiate to announce the marriage. But love’s enough, no amount of official documents or a man with a big hat could tell the two of you that you shouldn't be married. Or that it’s not legitimate. It's enough that his family— his crew knows about it. To him, that's legitimate, it's real, especially when you said ‘I do.’

The sea bears witness to it all, and as Finn announces that you're his, and he's yours. Hobie doesn't waste any time in embracing you and kissing you right there and then. It's not a fairy tale kind of wedding, but it's perfect in all the ways that you could see.

The crew rises up in a rambunctious applause, clapping and whistling out while Gwen, Pav and Miles toss flower petals around the two of you, showering you with fragrant flowers, drenching the whole beach in splashes of colours.

When the party takes onto the ship's deck, the scene shifts into a more merry one. Happy tears still leave remnants on the crew's puffy eyes, but the rum, jaunty music played by Ned, and the food have the celebrations in full swing.

And as you look below from the helm, gazing softly at your family dancing and laughing, your heart has increased in size. Lucky, you thought, lucky that you get to have this life and share it with him.

Hobie sidles up beside you, like the mere thought of him summoned him. With a drink in hand and a smile that seems to have been permanently sewn on his handsome face, pure happiness rolls off him.

“Hi, captain.” Smiling, you meet him halfway, an arm reaching for him as he immediately glues himself beside you like he didn't just leave your side for five minutes to get a drink.

“Scuttlebutt,” Hobie sighs against your bare shoulder, nose nudging you affectionately. He's not tipsy nor drunk, not yet anyway as he promised you that he'd drink moderately to enjoy the whole occasion wholeheartedly. “Why are you up ‘ere alone, hm?”

“Just coming up for air.” Chuckling, you tuck him closer beside you, sea salt and mint wafting over your senses, a feeling of nostalgia and a wave of memories open up in your head just from it. “Yuri kept trying to give me a drink.”

Hobie laughs softly, moonlight bouncing off his grey eyes as he gazes at his crew fondly. “She keeps trying to make everyone as drunk as her.” His arm weaves behind you, hand mindlessly tracing the flower stitching on your bodice. “You're not goin' to drink?” He finally noticed the lack of drink in your hand.

Smiling, you bite the inside of your cheek. “I can't drink.”

Snorting, He squeezes your nose. “Love, that's odd. Who are you and what have you done to my wife?” Wife, the title alone has your stomach doing flips, and your chest feeling warmer than the sensation of rum hitting your tongue.

Giggling as he peppers sweetened rum kisses around your cheeks, your palms rests upon his sturdy chest, feeling his warmth through the simple touch that has his heart racing more than a raging sea battle could.

“Nothing, husband, I just can't drink!”

Hobie leans away, eyes shining at the title you so lovingly uttered. “And ‘m askin’ why, it's our party, you're allowed to drink!”

“I know I can, but I can't!” He traps you between the ship's helm and his form, and you happily let yourself be trapped by him.

“But why?” Cupping your hips, he plunges his face into the crook of your neck, blowing raspberries and making your guffaw echo around the ship. Moving away and heaving, he gazes at you affectionately. “C’mon, at least have some of Finn's fried shrimp before Gwen eats all of ‘em.”

“I can't have that either.” You say in an unsure tone.

Blinking, now he's concerned. “Are you alright? You usually love shrimp.” His calloused palm slides over to your stomach. “Shit, is it the hot chocolate from this mornin’? Is it messin’ with your stomach?”

“I do, but I heard it's not good for the baby.”

“What fuckin’ baby—?” Realization flickers over his face, from panic to elation, it seems that Hobie experienced all the emotions in the span of five seconds. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, biting your lip. “It's yours by the way.” Joking to lighten your own nerves, he feels for your stomach as if you're at that stage where the baby could kick. “Are you alright? Please say something, Hobie—!” You're suddenly lifted up and twirled around the helm, dress fluttering around the two of you in a flurry of white clouds.

“Shit!” He yells, grinning from ear to ear, cradling your face and kissing you fervently. “Can I tell them?”

“You're happy?” Patting his cheek with a tearful gaze, you feel lighter now that you've told him.

“Why wouldn't I be?” He utters in wonderment.

Choking on a happy sob, he kisses you again, this time it's softer, heavier and with an unsung promise to keep you and the baby safe.

Reluctantly ending the kiss, you chuckle as you nod at him, gazing at him with so much love that even the sea herself would envy it. “Go tell them, you look like you're about to burst a vein.”

With your approval, Hobie bounds over to the bannister, inhaling deeply before yelling at the top of his lungs and announcing the news. You watch as they all cheer, glasses clinking together, and congratulations thrown at you and the captain.

Hobie looks over his shoulder at you, and finds that he already has the greatest treasure a pirate could ever ask for.

[candybarz]

hihihihi do u think you could write about nerd!armin and reader being academic rivals and armins a big meanie because he gets a higher score on the final than reader does >:) (nsfw teehee)

SURE THING!! ty for requesting!! i did some changes cause i didnt know how to go about it so i hope thats okay!! A/N: i used college nerdmin (https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/52354414414324585/) this took so longg, its kinda good, idk it feels rushed i hope yall enjoyy (i proofread it but there might be a few mistakes!!)

WARNINGS: Mean!Nerdmin x Reader, calculus mentioned. ,Backshots(F!receiving), Oral sex (F!+M!receiving), Rough sex (?), Fingering (F!receiving), Name calling (stupid/dumb whore,slut etc), ussage of y/n and female anatomy.

You were always the smartest in your classes, top of the year if you will. Basically any class you took was not a challenge to you, from first to the seventh you were the smartest. were.

Then came along that bastard who one-upped you, that dumb ass bob to the stupid ass nerdy clothes he wore, that otaku shirt wearing smartass. Armin Arlert. The moment he showed up everything went to shit, every test you did ended up having the same.exact.grade. At graduation you both got the same awards, ending up in an academic tie at graduation. It did not change in college. You both ended up taking the same course, some-fucking-how. It was constantly in a tie for a whole year, it was irratating.

---

You recently had done exams, everyonee eagerly waiting for their answers. Hell, they were probably waiting to see what you and armin got as this exam basically kicked everyones ass. The room was dead silent, whispers of people saying they were for sure going to fail or others saying they didn't even wanna look.

The teacher nodded dismissing the class. you instantly whipped out your phone to check your grade, scrolling down to each class to see the grades. Every grade had A or A+.

Calculus: C-

Your heart sunk to your ass, that had to be the lowest grade you have ever gotten in your 20 years of living. You walked up to your professor, grade propped up and ready 'cause this had to be a mistake, right?

WRONG.

Mr.Ackerman looked you dead in your face sipping on his tea, your grade wasn't a mistake. Apparently it was 5 questions you got wrong, all of them were the ones you did a million times.

During your free period you sat under the shade, still staring at the grade. Sasha looked at you with a look of worry, you barely finished your food. "Girl, you've been staring at that grade for like 4 minutes now! Whats up??" Sasha asked leaning in to see your face, you looked up on instinct shutting off your phone and shrugged acting chill.

"I just really thought I was going to do better than that, I studied all night for that? But it's whatever." You explained and letting sasha continue her story about how some frat house was throwing a huge bash for the end of exams. What you said wasn't a lie, but there was more to it and it was the fact you did not want to feel like you lost to Armin of all people.

"So will you go?" Your bestfriends voice cut into your mind, you sat and thought about it, maybe this party could help take your mind off it. You letting out a long dramatic sigh before smiling at sasha, you nodded your head and she squealed 'thank you' hugging you. Later on in the day she sent you the address and to be honest you were a little excited. -- The lighting of the place changed colors repeatedly and the smell of marijuana mixed into the smell of alcohol and perfumes. It was a bit hot inside. You sat by the punch area awkwardly drinking water, you had a brownie 30 minutes ago and the effects hit you like a brick. While it didn't comepletely fuck you up, you were just a little bit calmer, guess this was a smaller dosage then the regular.

You stared at the people coming and going, until someone came beside you. Turning, you look up to see who it was. Armin fucking Arlert. He had that dumb smirk on, you had to squint at him to see it. He had his regular glasses on, his hair was in his usual style, maybe he missed a barbers appointment because his under cut grew out. His shirt, radiohead merch paired with some long jorts, to be honest he looked hot, maybe Eren finally put him on? who cares, you still didnt want to see him. "How'd you do? Like on the exam." He asked with fake

You stared at the people coming and going, until someone came beside you. Turning, you look up to see who it was. Armin fucking Arlert. He had that dumb smirk on, you had to squint at him to see it. He had his regular glasses on, his hair was in his usual style, maybe he missed a barbers appointment because his under cut grew out. His shirt, radiohead merch paired with some long jorts, to be honest he looked hot, maybe Eren finally put him on? who cares, you still didnt want to see him. "How'd you do? Like on the exam." He asked with fake innocence, you knew that he already knew somehow, he always does. You glared up at him with annoyance on your face, you muttered the grade under your breath not even wanting to say it out loud. This bastard leaned in like he didn't hear you over the music, the same smirk turned into a shit-eating grin as if he couldnt contain his joy.

"C-minus." Was all you said before he let out a mocking laugh, like you were the clown of the damn year. Armin stared at you with smugness all over his face and disgust like you were contagious and the stupid was gonna rub off on him. "Are you a blockhead? That test was so easy even the meat heads got higher than that." He sneered behind his cup of juice, you rolled your eyes at his statement. "Can you tutor me?" You bit your pride and asked the impossible and some how he took this as a sign to continue.

"You know this was what we've been studying this whole time? He even gave people sheet that can help with the process. Did you not pick one up? Typical, you don't know how to study at all huh? Just as dumb as always, but I guess-" He said before looking at you, you stared at him with a confused face, you didn't even say a word and he's talking like that? Fucking asshole.

You could swear you saw him mutter something. Shoving him aside you left the party. -- It's been a week since you and Armin's last encounter, you ended up getting a text from Sasha saying Armin will tutor you as an apology for what he did, part of you was still pissed but you weren't a hateful person, just competitive.

You had been going to armins house every three days to be tutored, some days he was difficult and others he was nice, there was no in between but lately he was too nice. He would give you food during breaks and complimenting your outfits, it was weird to say the least. You headed off to Armins house, it was a bit too hit today so you decided to wear a white spaghetti strap top and some distressed jean shorts with the frayed hems.

--

Today was not the day for you or armin, you were both irritated for some reason and everytime you answered a question wrong, you got a scoff. Or asked a "stupid" question, you got a stupid look while he fanned himself.

"Just do the equation and stop doing it your way! Do it the way you're supposed to, it is not that HARD! Dumbass!." Armin whined as he dropped his fan in frustration. You scoffed getting up and leaving the room calling him a fucking nerd, you needed some form of relaxation or you were going to lose your mind. You got a glass of water and started to chug it, this heatwave better die down by the last hour. Suddenly, Armin came up from behind and yanked the glass out of your hand throwing it into the sink. "What is your problem?" You asked annoyed, He was way too close for your liking.

"You're my fucking problem everything you do pisses me the fuck off and messes with me. I take time out of my day to tutor your ass and this is how you repay me, with that fuckass attitude?" He spat with a glare in his eye, your brows knitted together at his words, before you could say anything he continued. "You better fix that attitude, or else." Armin threatened and you looked him up and down. "Or what?" You snapped back, walking back to the room scoffing.

SMUT INCOMING!!

You didn't have this in mind, if you told you in the past this is what it has come to, she wouldn't believe you. Armin had his lips on your neck, sucking and kissing at the senitive skin while leaving a nasty mark.

His hand snaked around you, your shorts unbuttoned while his hand teased your clit behind the underwear making your breath heavy. He listed off your shirt in one go, removing his hand from your clit, making you whine. You turned around taking his off which caused you to get a good look at his torso, he was kind of fit which you didnt expect from him, his shirts weren't doing him justice.

You felt him shove you roughly back onto the bed, before you could do anything he latched himself back onto your neck before slowly moving down to your chest, basically almost tearing off your bra. "Fuck.." you whispered as he kissed your breast lovingly, sucking on them at some point but then he bit one causing you to whine again. He kissed down to your stomach, making your spine shiver as he went right above the pelvis. He tugged your shorts off, throwing them somewhere else. You clamped you legs shut but armin forced them apart, spreading them widely. "Keep your legs open slut." He whispered leaning down and giving you the warning in your ear, you did as he said opening them.

He went down until he was facing your clothed pussy, he kissed your clit through the panties, sending a shiver up your spine as you moaned. "A-Armin!" You held his hair as he sucked on it through the cloth, dampening your pink panties and mixing his saliva with your slick. He tore them off soon after which made the cool air hit your pussy. Armin kissed your clit a bit before eating you out. You tried to close your legs but armin was faster, he pushed them open and farther than before.

His tongue moving in ways you didn't expect, his nose rubbing against your clit as he ate you out. "S-Shit.." You whimpered at the feeling, you suddenly felt two finger inserted inside you while he moved his mouth to your clit. Armins fingers moved faster while curling slightly upwards, he could feel his dick getting hard with the way your pussy clenched his fingers, you could feeling yourself getting closer as your whimpers turned into begging real quick."Please...faster...Armin, im gonna-!" You felt his fingers leave from your pussy and his mouth detaching as well.

"Brats don't get to cum fast, think about that next time dumb whore." Armin said at your whining, your slick coating his chin. You felt him reach over you for his dresser where he pulled out a condom box that read large, surely it was just for show...right? He stood taking his jogging pants off, showing his black boxers, once he took those off you felt your eyes bulge out of your head. That had to be the prettiest dick you've ever seen, it was like everything was perfect for him from his grades to his face to his dick. It had a pretty color to it, the tip was a darker shade of pink. Precum oozed out of the slit whilst he put on the condom, groaning lowly once he touched it, his dick was maybe 7-8 inches, 9 if you really thought about it, the girth wasnt extremely thick but not so slim either.

He slid back onto the bed, rubbing his dick near your entrance, you moaned when you felt it rub your clit. You whined as he teased you, staring up in frustation. "You want my cock?" He asked soothingly, and you nodded like a dumbass. "Beg for it, whore." He smirked, You looked at him with a deadpanned look but it was too late now. "Please fuck me Armin, Please." You begged squirming around, he grabbed you and flipped you over and raised your ass in the air while pushing your back down. In one swift move he pushed his dick in you causing you to moan louder than you should've, At first he was going slowly, very slowly. trying to get you used to his length. "Faster...please..." You begged trying to move back into him but he didn't change his pace. He rubbed you clit while he teased you with his pace, you whimpered every time it grazed your good spot and armin noticed this.

He slammed his hips harshly into yours with no warning. "Fuck!" You squealed as his pace quickened, every plop of your skin connecting to his was another moan from you, you try to slow him down with your hand by putting it on his abdomen. He quickly got irratated and pinned it to your back and pushing you into the mattress that was covered by some shark sheets, you would've teased him for it if you saw it sooner but you were too busy with his brutal thrust. "You dont cum until i say so, stupid whore."

Armin smacked your ass and fondled it, he's always liked staring at your ass the moment you both got into college and you gained confidence, the way it moves is enchanting. You moaned with a high pitch tone as his tip bullied your spot, he let go of your arm and grabbed your hair, letting out quiet curses under his breath as he felt you getting close. Your screams got louder, he sucked on the sensitive spot of your neck while playing with your clit. "Armin! I'm gonna-" "You wanna cum? Are you gonna stop being a fucking bitch and listen to me? You gonna apologize?" Armin said lowly into your ear, his breath shaky from the work he was putting in.

"Yes! Yes, i'll stop-Fuck! Being a bitch and Mgnh listen to you! Im sorryyy!" You cried out tying to contain your moaning while being edged. He kissed the back of your neck and let your body down before whispering that you can cum. You reached your climax, eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth hanging open while armin kissed your shoulder, thrusting as you came.

He pulled out and was confused when you turned and grabbed his dick yourself, you peel the condom of and threw it somewhere. You lick the precum off the tip before kissing it. "Fuck.." Armin let out a whimper and bit his lip, You licked his dick from the base of the bottom of his dick to the tip and felt his dick pulse. Armin stared down at you as you put the tip in your mouth, sucking his dick slowly. After a bit you sped up the pace and sucked him off faster. "Holy shit...Y/n....good girl." He breathed out grabbing your hair and forcing it up and down, You gagged as he did so.

Your hands scatched at his thigh and pelvis area, he hissed as you scratched and fucked your throat so he could cum quicker, tears fell down your face as you gagged at every thrust. "Ngh fuck! Y/n..!" Armin came into your mouth, shooting hot loads into your mouth while moving your head up and down. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, straight at the phone he had in his hand, You didn't care at this point. Armin watched (and recorded) you swallowing and sticking your tongue out to show him you swallowed it. he stopped the video as he muttered something about "you're so fucking hot..", he leaned down and kissed you with tongue, you kissed him back as you laid in bed with him.

"Is there any other class you need help with?"

This fucking nerd.

--

Credits to me!!

[ubtendo]

Hey, Ive been following you ever since you made briggsy x Torbek posts, but u havent been posting about them at all lately, you were like the only one posting about them and it was real fun but u haven't been doing anything about them for a while, are u not into the ship anymore? Cause that would be sad kind of

Hi there first of all

So yeah, I've been kind of absent from the ship a bit, mainly because I've burnt myself out from drawing them so much while I was doing the shiptober art (and I still need to finish the list - hopefully till the end of the year) but I don't plan to fully abandon anything here, it might just take a while

Second point, I'm not the only one posting about them?? There is literally a whole account dedicated to them (which is not operated by me), and other people have posted art about them as well

Third, lot of stuff was people sending in headcanons (which I absolutely adored, that was so fun to read through in the morning), but since I'm not getting any of those asks anymore, I can't post thay, get it?

Also I post a bunch of other things as well? Maybe there is something else for you on my blog

I'm not planning to abandon this ship, definitely not. I just need some time to recharge my battery so to say, so if your willing to wait there will be stuff in the future (hoping that we get a new Christmas special with them this year)

[unintentionalseductress]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[wingedfuncomputer]

The Outskirs of Town

Remmick x fem!reader

Summary: Living far from town with a father who treats you more like a maid instead of a daughter proves itself exhausting. Secluded like a bird in a cage, a boring cycle life becomes until a random man shows up one night striking up an innocent deal. In name of your chicken coop you accept letting him in. Though as time passes & whispers of violence roughing a sweet couple up around town has you rethinking this weird relationship you have created with the Irish stranger who seemed to come out of thin air.

WarningsNSFW: slow-burnish, naive!reader, if you squint fluff, racist undertones, racism, reader has a mean father, manipulative! Remmick, blood, dub-con, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), corruption kink?, somnophilia, No actual P in V, violence, vampirism, death!, nightmares, injury!, biting, Angst, spit, !reader is not black due to family dynamic

Word count: 14.6k Fic playlist!

From a far his eyes locked on her. Right as the sun set tending the little chickens, ushering them into the coop. Softly, she tried her hardest to close the door as if not wanting to scare them. A regular passer by wouldn't glance an eye she was a normal little thing, but not to him, not to Remmick.

It was primal how he always found himself being dragged back to her every time the sun decided to hide behind the horizon. Her sweat, her skin, her pulsing blood enticed him as if he'd known her before. She was too sweet to ravish like all those ol' people he had left a mess of before. He let himself get enveloped in the idea that his human mind,what little of it remained had.Affection. With that utterly disgusting revelation he decided to knock on her door to put an end to the feeling once and for all. Heavy, knuckles contacting the chipping paint of the wood.

You had been sweeping the floor when you heard a noise coming from the front door. A little startled you had halted confused by who would be visiting your father so late at night. Most people weren't out after sun down. "The floors ain't gon' sweep themselves keep at it girl". His gruffy voice made you grip the wooden stick tighter negating the fact it caused splinters to get stuck to your skin. It was old, long due to be thrown away but your voice was nonexistent in this house. With a small creak a hesitant humble very male voice spoke, "good afternoon... sir". You whipped your head around intrigued but found your father's body blocking the man behind the door. "State your business". He had never learnt kindness, it was a foreign thing to him. "I'm just a lowly traveler going on by, was wonderin' if you could offer some hospitality". A huff emitted from your father as the man continued. "My wife she's no longer with us.. I must find myself across the state but the sun is beating and unforgiving". Your heart ached for him, he sounded defeated. Your father surely would say mean ol' things to him and get violent. But suprisingly he laughed barking your name then orders at you, "fetch this man a cup of water". Only for a split second when he turned were you able to capture a glimpse, the man already looking directly at you. His features resembled your father's, except for his frame he looked thinner his face covered in what seemed to be a mix of dirt and sweat. You nod and quickly keep your eyes down. Whilst you grab a tin cup and fill it with water by the sink you hear the small hushing of their conversation asking where he was headed to and why. Your steps are weary making sure you don't spill the water.

"The Catholics did a number on my people kindness is hard to come by. Could you let me in don't want to bother the young lady ?" His first comment is what makes your father's demeanor change, you see it from a few feet away as his back tenses. He ignores the man's request, "Where you from boy?". Once only a few inches away you decide to lay down the cup by a piece of furniture near by. Eyes creeping behind your father's shoulders it was obvious to see the man was not a boy. There's a glint of a smirk in the strangers lips as he glances at you, "Ireland". That's when your heart drops, with poison your father spits "get your filthy Irish ass off my f*cking property". 

"I don't mean no disrespect, I'd still appreciate that water" he takes a step forward which makes your father push him. You yelp afraid they'd have a full brawl and the innocent man would end up in his grave. "You won't get nothin' here ! Leave my property". Your hands goes up to your fathers arm as you can see his anger exalted, his fist itching to make contact with the Irish man's face. "Father please..." his face full of anger weighs in on yours before shoving your hand away and instead drags you inside once more. "It's best if you learn to keep away from men like that ." He speaks as if the man wasn't there, you can't help but take a look once more offering a look of apology.

That whole night you couldn't bring yourself to sleep tossing and turning, imagining what that poor man was going through. You didn't hear about him the following day or day after that until you found yourself reluctantly putting yet another dead bird into a sack. They were being ripped to shreds, you made sure the coop was secured each night so what could be killing them? It was sundown, the night air hitting your skin in a way that made your hairs stick up. " 'coyote... or fox" your body jolts hearing someone break the silent spell in the air. Immediately letting the bag fall and taking steps back as you twist to see who the voice belonged to. "Apologies I didn't mean to scare ya". It was hard to see in the darkness but the moonlight along with your small lamp on the ground allowed you to see enough to say, "your the man from a few days ago". He was standing behind the fence that surrounded your chicken coop. "Guilty as charged" you couldn't help but laugh along with him. "I'm Remmick" he extends his hand towards you which you can only just stare at. It would've been appropriate to say your name and envelope his hand but you don't. Remmick. "My Irish hands too dirty" he murmurs to himself which makes you start to ramble in apologies insuring his heritage nothing to do with your lack of a response. " of course not It's just that, no offense sir your a- your a...." Your stuttering makes heat flood your cheeks. "A stranger?" He says it so casually no anger laced in between his words just light heartedness. You both stare at each other in an awkward pregnant pause before you find the courage to nod. Guilt weighs in your soul after reflecting "I'm truly ashamed about what happened last time... that is no way to be treated". He just smiles a little huff of air being exhaled as he leaned into the fence, "it happens more than you know darlin' nothin' personal". His deep voice grumbles nicely when he calls you by that little pet name making your stomach flutter. It must've been as clear as the night sky you weren't allowed around men often let alone other people.

Remmick seems intrigued by you growing quiet, tilting his head to the side as he quirks , "the way across the state ain't an easy one.. staying around these parts is easier. would help if I had a place to rest... ". You would offer him your home in a heartbeat but you knew how your pops wasn't fond of him, let alone yourself. He could barely tolerate you. The strangers eyes are trained on your every twitch, chest constricting and trembling hands playing with the loose fabric of your skirt. It was quite nice really it felt like you were a lil' rabbit troubled by your surroundings. Yet You were unaware that the greatest danger wasn't your father, no not your father. It was the devil himself looming over you in this instant.

He smacks his lips making you look back at him once more. His pointer finger is near his mouth faking thought, "well I might just got a deal that could work for both 'f us". Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you still hear the poor man out. "I can help ya with the lil' chicken problem... in exchange I get a piece of shelter". His eyes nudge at the forgotten sack beneath you then trail up your frame to your face. Your teeth grind trying to thinking If he helped manage the death of these chickens father would probably lay off my back, let me go back out in town for food or what not for he farm.

"So what da ya, say? You gon' let me in?"

You still hear it even after many days of accepting. The way his finger nail clicked on the fence doors metal handle, his words not menacing or inviting just there looming behind your brain and the stillness that overtook the night. He was your secret, like a little frog you hid beneath your bed covers from your father when you were younger. Except he took cover in the coop with the chickens and he was no frog... just a man with everything he'd lost weighing on top of his shoulders. And like those slimy little animals you gave him food and water usually late at night when your father wouldn't suspect a thing, not that he cared much for your safety.

The arrangement went well the chicken massacre was over in just short of days. You were given permission to go back in town and here you found yourself in the shop owned by colored folk. Your pops would be yelling at you through the top of his lungs but he wasn't here who would scold you then? He couldn't tell the difference between the white peoples and the not so white peoples food. It was all the same. You got a few stares here and there but didn't pay much mind your eyes were encapsulated by a nice pocket watch. Not too big to cost lots of money but still a good size your sure Remmick would benefit from this for his travels. "Well well don't tell me the fine lady got a man now?" You clutch the fine piece of metal in your hands but relax once you realize it's Genevieve a worker of the shop you've grown fond of. You shake your head trying to fight the blush surging on your face, "oh no nothin' of the sort just for a friend!". Her arms cross in front of her chest giving you that look of suspicion. "That's how it starts then next thing ya' know you'll be popping those babies out like a damn industrial machine". She speaks with a reminiscent tone. She was a mother of a new born with a doting husband they didn’t have much they were all she ever needed.You can't help but stifle your giggle, the idea of being that way with the Irish man hiding in your barn seeming much too far. Not that it hadn't cross your mind you were just a woman after all and he was a handsome man. "I barely even know him, just a  few days n' countin". Her eyes widen with a smirk, "so there is someone!". You both walk towards the register that seemed to be isolated from the other part of the establishment. "He must be real handsome to be worth all this money. A real dream," she says sarcastically while she has the watch in her hand. You lay the rest of your groceries on the isle next to the register. It was pretty but out of your tax bracket maybe not your fathers but You're sure he'd notice right away on your big spending when the plentiful groceries were baren when you'd bring them back. "...your right, I'm dreamin' far too big " you let out self deprecatingly

"Aint nothin' wrong with dreamin' big, though I have to admit this gift is more of a husband typa gift. Unless... he be your husband?". "No...". She can see you grow a bit ashamed so she puts the watch back in a secure place before she brings out a straw cowboy hat. "You don't see these round here much, but very good for hard workin' men. Keep the sun out their face n' everythin'. Less than the watch... I'll even give ya a deal". If Remmick was traveling by foot your sure the sun would be unforgiving, could be easier to disguise the buy for yourself. Pops wouldn't bat an eye. "You make a good bargain I can't resist Genevieve".  Well most bargains you fell victim to. As you pay for your  things she puts the food in your home bag and places the hat a bit too big for your size on your head, flicking the edge. "Now go tell your man he'll have to make you a wife after this gift" you both laugh as you start walking away until her voice calls out to you right as your a few inches from the door. Turning around she gives you a tight hug which you try your best to return, "stay safe alright people goin' missing round here don't be one of 'em".

Her voice was soft and dripping with concern you thought about her warning as you walked back home. Still an hour or two till sun down which meant your father would be home soon. So quickly you got to cookin' dinner, a potato soup with corn on the side. Not the most cohesive plate but enough to fill the stomach up. With a rumble of an engine coming to a halt you knew he was home. Not so long after dragged in your father with no words exchanged sitting down to eat, you joined him in silence. Your heart was palpating as the sun finally set, in excitement of being able to see Remmick and giving him the hat you had bought him currently tucked away in your room. "Serve me 'nother plate" gruff cut and dry. "Yes sir" you got up going to the too small to even be considered pot with his bowl serving him more. As you placed it on the table there was no gratitude so you went back to your own bowl which you ate slowly. Once he was finished he left his plate deserted going upstairs to the washroom, the trickling of water alerted you to pass by the same room he was in to grab his clothes. The cold bucket of water outside was a perfect contrast to the slight humidity in the air. You tugged the large pants and shirt against the makeshift slab of wood and metal that helped scrape the clothes new. Even with the hair tie a few pieces of hair got in front of your face which you tried your best to shoulder out of the way. Maybe one day you'd run far from these grounds and start living not just slaving away doing chores. You squish the clothes riding them of the water extending them before laying them up in the clotheslines. With a deep breath you take a chance to intake the sweet oxygen. the small sweat building up proving the job was just a bit harder than it seemed

He was watching from the darkness in the trees, the adrenaline once fresh in his veins now soothing and left nothing but a linger. It became a ritual he could never get enough of. Having kept you alive was fun. Not something that only lasted a few minutes but could be dragged on for as long as he liked. He was the reason you were standing there right now tired from your chores. Your pulse seeming to call him like some sort of siren in the ocean. His feet silent beneath the summer grass.

You pondered of what Genevieve had said earlier about the towns folk going missing. The hollowness in the air along with the hanged clothes obstructing your view of the forest surrounding your house urged you to go back inside. With a quick turn you didn't expect for Remmick to be at your side. Automatically you slapped your hands over your mouth successfully hiding your yelp. "You gotta stop doin that!" You try your best to whisper. His creeping was perfect no evidence of sounds being heard as if he were some sort of ghost, maybe a warlock with witchcraft tricks. He tries his hardest to bury his small laugh inside the depthless of his chest throwing his hands up in surrender noticing your frustration. "Ya must know I can't help myself doll". You notice the sweat buildup on his forehead and the little dirt on his face. Swiftly you take the cloth wrapped around your waist dipping it in the clean water remaining then stepped closer to him, wiping it across his skin. "I know you can't seem to keep yourself clean either" you expected him to sass back but instead he just stares adoringly at you as you finish up focusing on his sweaty bangs.  "Why would I? It'll probably be the only time you put your hands on me willingly, I'm trynna cherish it". his hand lifts up to your face caressing your cheek lightly before tucking that stray hair behind your ear. "That's not true.." your words died with his touch. His fingers on your skin make your heart skip a beat, body freeze and your throat run dry. He was being a flirt purposefully. Right? I mean he was usually this way just never so straight forward and touchy. As if knowing you were having a revelation he can't help but tilt his head and let his eyebrows raise.

"-your soup" you blurt out retracting your hand. Trying to unakwardfy the moment you clear your throat as you slowly walk away, "I'll bring you your soup, you must be real hungry n' I don't wanna make it grow colder". You don't give him enough time to respond shutting the door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood. Your hands come up to your chest, finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Uncertainty was growing in your head along with the small tingles that ran through your back from being do close to him .... Being able to see every pore, feel his touch his eyes and lips you'd bet he'd kissed many women in his life and you knew they had enjoyed it...how would it feel- enough! You push yourself off the door and get to pouring Remmick a bowl in a hastily manner. Your father's weight creaks under the wood floors but he pays you no mind instead goin' to sit on the small couch with his radio and newspaper in hand. The small grumbling of the static of voices was oddly comforting allowing you to carefully wrap a piece of corn on the cob around a rag. Before going outside you go upstairs to your room scouring for your knitted cardigan. It was a pretty shade of dirt brown with little specs of beige. As you slipped it on your eyes catch a glimpse of the cowboy hat you picked out for the ol' Irish man but decided against removing it from the edge of your bed. He’s just a stranger the voice in your head reminded you.

By the time you go outside once more you expect him to be waiting for you, in that same stance resting against the fence you've grown fond of but to no surprise it seemed he'd gone into the chicken coop early. You weren't sure why it made your heart weigh down on your chest. Though disappointed you don't let yourself fret, placing the bowl and corn right ontop the fence knowing he'd come out whenever possible. Maybe you should knock never know what if he just forgot. Your knuckles softly tapped on the wood not the one that belonged to the chicken coop but the fence. It wasn't to signal for him it was to merely trying to build courage for yourself to actually do so. Ultimately though you retreated back into your home.

Had he taken your abrupt leave as rejection? Was he bothered? Worse what if he no longer wanted to speak to you! Were the thoughts plaguing your mind throughout the day after. Juvenile ones you were ashamed to admit. "Tell me I'm a fool. Tell me I'm doomed please Genevieve" you whined to the woman you always came to bother. She was just a few years older but there was a certain maturity to her you loved like a mother. "Who's not when it comes to love, though I'd push back on the doomed.". "I wouldn't even say love, he's a complete stranger not even from here..". She halts the clothes she was folding completely, turning to look at you, "ya said he was your friend what do ya mean complete stranger n' not from 'round here ? ". It was stern as if the little small details you had mentioned about his appearance, sweet gestures and his "nightly visits" held no validity now. "Well he's not exactly my friend I've known for ages that's why I said stranger". But your poor excuse of a lie didn't faze her, immediately you cracked. "Alright I lied! I only know this man for a little less than 2 weeks he was just so sweet n' needed help but my papa don't like him so he's been staying in the coop where I keep all my chickens!". It was as if she was the one trying to catch her breath at your confession. "Before ya judge he's a very honorable man, he ain't do nothin' weird yet he helps keep the predators away from my small feathered friends n' I just provide him food, water ya know the basic necessities-" That's how you start telling her the whole story from start to finish of how that night when you met went down. All the nitty gritty and the pointless details.

"Oh child may the lord bless ya heart". You were unsure on how to react to her words, an akward smile hanging on your lips. "Is that meant in a good way or-?"  She cuts you off before you can finish. "What in the world ya thinking'! You must wanna visit your grave early girl". You try to scratch the nervousness away behind your neck as you dash your eyes around the store. "It's not as bad as it seems Gene I swear".  "Let me get this straight a man who came begging at your door, which your father kicked out, is now living in your barn house because he caught you late at night offered to help you protect your chickens so now your bending over backwards for him?". Even though you're afraid to you just nod. She sighs deeply, "I swear with the crimes appearin' round town I'd wish you'd be more careful". There's real sincerity in her voice which makes your tone turn a bit defensive. "I live on the outskirts news like that don't reach me so easily..". Theres a bit of silence in the air to make the gears in your head turn. "what exactly happened anyway?"

" some lady n' her husband near the outskirts aswell, don't know exactly where she lives.. or lived. No sign left of 'em  just blood n' their baby. Many said it was a Horrible horrible sight wouldn't wish it on anybody" your body can't help but let out a small tinge of sweat afraid of exactly what fate the babe had met . "So are both of 'em alive?". "No one knows.. as I said lots of blood but yet no bodies" there was a linger of thick air between the both of you, unspoken yet very heavy. "Should probably get home then, I'll keep myself safe". You both said your goodbyes and off you were right as the sun met the edge of the horizon. The walk back had been nothing but peaceful, a weird ambiance of sorts seeming to loom, even the quiet of the house had grown intimidating. Though rinse repeat of the previous days as you made dinner and your father came in the door, eating then leaving you be busied you away such thoughts. While your pops went to sleep earlier, you on the other hand find your place outside once more leavin' Remmicks food out on top the fence like you always did. You were collecting the hens eggs when you noticed the grid near the top of their little home was slowly but surely ripping off. While you stood up to inspect the spot you caught glimpse of Remmick far away walking towards you. You lift a hand up and he does as-well It makes you notice something wrapped around his back. Throughout his stay he would busy himself in the day, you never pushed yourself to ask. You didn't think it would be quite appropriate to know his day schedule, he never asked yours... well not that he had to ask, you always told him the night before.

"Busying yourself with the hens now are ya". You smile at his introduction to starting a conversation. He joined you inside the fenced perimeter. After just a day or two you had grown to miss his voice. "You may protect 'em but I still gotta clean 'em n'  their small home aswell. What's that you got?" You can't help but let your curiosity get the best of you especially when it came to something that looks like an instrument. He swiftly tilts whatever he has around so what looked like a guitar is now In front of him. With a small lean towards you he professes as if he were about to tell you something sacred, "this ol' thing is called a banjo, keeps me company late at night". Your eyes light up, repeating the instruments name in your head and the fact he hadn't lost his spark from a few days prior. Pops never allowed these kinda things here he told you a home was meant for quiet not to be filled with loud yapping and music. "Well you must play somethin' for me now". His fingers tap the edge of the banjo eyes locked onto yours before his voice grows husky. " beg real nicely n' I might just do it" your breath hitches at his words, eyes trailing down to where he was slowly rubbing small circles on the surface of the banjo. This minuscule action had you in a trance. What was he doing to you? What was this you were feeling growing deep in your bones at the depthness of your belly?

You did end up asking him, begging so sweetly he just couldn't resist to let you hear him play . A sweet tune you can't even remember the rhythm to, or his humming he offered. The only thing you were able to remember was the way his fingers strummed softly as you lay in bed. It was the last thing on your mind before the night gently coaxed you to sleep.

It was a fever that overtook your senses as you shifted back and forth in bed, sweat accumulating on your neck and forehead. An unexplainable throb growing between your legs while something wet slithered between yourself like the slits of a book. A plunge invading your most intimate part made you cry, head thrown back as your hips and hands tried to wrestle with this new feeling. It felt sinful, violating, a light sting causing pain, yet addicting. You didn't want it to stop, you didn't want the attack on your folds to end. A rumble, like a laugh made vibrations, shocks travel through your cunt inching that tightness in your stomach close to absolute destruction. You didn't want whatever was happening to stop. That's when you looked down, hands digging into a full set of sweaty hair, pulling to at least reveal the object of your greatest pleasure. Those ice cold eyes, toothy grin with a peculiar fang, his nose bridge. "Beg real nicely f’ me " he hushed his fingers still working overtime. But that's all you needed the puff of hot air on the place he had just been feasting right over your pearl. His eyes never leaving yours. Your moans grow, his name dying on your lips as all you can let out is strings of abnormal sounds as you feel your peak finally falling over.

A loud bang immediately has you sitting straight up in your small bed. "Sleepin' in is for the f*cking birds. Are you a bird?" You rub your eyes, still dazed from what your mind had just made you experience. Yet you know better than prioritizing regaining yourself quickly you groggily speak, "no.. no, I'm not sir". "Right your not so get your ass out the bed and start cleanin'!"  He mumbles out strings of insults as he finally leaves the confines of your room. From the way the sun is blaring you were sure it was closer to noon than your regular wake up time.

You do what he orders ignoring the wetness between your thighs. He leaves and you were sure he wouldn't come back till next morning or next days midnight. He always had the habit of leavin' when the weekend came. Who knows where, all you knew is when he'd come back he'd be drunk out his mind n' rage enough to feed a whole herd of cows with his hands... you find yourself with infinite amount of free time finishing with cleaning the whole house in records time. So you sit near a window gazing at the sunlight, the birds, grass and faint butterflies here n there. It was quite odd really you had never gone past the perimeters of your house grounds only sticking to your home, the trail leading to the town and the town itself. The woods surrounding your home were quite dark, the trees even from where you were sitting seemed to have claws for twigs, all sorts of poisonous plants were just a few distance away and the wild animals.. the ones who had killed 1/4 of your chickens. All danger, you didn't have to put yourself in front of. The chickens invaded your view making you realize you hadn't treated the hens to a proper clean. With a small groan you lift yourself off the window ledge grabbing the cowboy hat you had bought a few days ago. You still hadn't found the courage to give it to him, even though a bit loose around your head it had really proved itself useful with blocking out the sun just as Gene had promised. Especially like now that you were grabbing buckets of water back n' forth, cleaning with rags the outside of the house along with the old broom. Even with the shade created on your face it didn't stop the relentless rays from causing unexplainable heat.

"That darn metal wire" you huff out, mouth dry. When you had believed to be done you took notice of the even wired fence on the top of the hens coop looking in worse condition than before. Did I not take care of this? Before your anger can get the best out of you, shame takes over it instead trickling in big waves. Remmick and his banjo... that's what got me distracted.  You bite your lip scouring for pliers your father kept in a tool box near the coop. The sun was going down soon you told yourself you could catch a drink after you finish this last job. You have to really force your eyes to focus when extending yourself to try and reach the metallic fence. I won't replace it completely just wrap it around itself to keep any unwanted creatures out. Then I'll rest..

Your hands start to shake a bit and your calf's hurt due to you being on your tiptoes. Focus it's not that hard. Successfully you close 3 out of 4 wires needing one left. But then you hear a snap then a sharp sting running down your finger. You hiss in response and let the pliers go abruptly, which causes them to land on your foot. The overwhelming situation makes your breath lose evenness not helping the fight of lack of oxygen your lungs had already been dealing with. Your vision stars to be invaded by growing black splotches. "Sit.. I've gotta, do that..." so you do, hand tightly wrapped around your thumb both covered in that red essence. The sight of your not so little cut makes you grow even more light headed. Before you can even protest the darkness envelops you, too weak to even fight it your eyes gently flutter shut.

You feel it before seeing it. There's a huge pounding in your head that forces your lids to be no more than one centimeter open and a throb. Not a painful one, no one that expresses want on the southern side of your body. It's familiar, like the feeling you had freshly in the morning except unlike in your dream you clench on nothing. Only tingles you can grasp onto but it doesn't create satisfaction. what makes you drift your dazed eyes downward is the pressure felt on your thumb. It was hard to focus, everything was a blur you just catch the sound of wetness. Something holding your hand, it was draining you not just emotionally but physically. Subconsciously you moan it's soft and covered in the many layers of your throat yet this makes whatever is beneath you stop. As it looks up your corneas put in the work even if it's for just a split second. You see the silhouette of a man, unrecognizable with bright red eyes, mouth lightly covered in your dark essence and sharp teeth. It was human n' monster combined n' it was staring straight at you. Your system was beyond exhausted shutting you forcefully down again.

Your left in darkness for a while till you start stirring awake, something cold running across your forehead. "C'mon gotta see you wake up" that voice delights your soul a light murmur of his name under your breath. It earns you a warm grumbly laugh from the depths of his chest, "the one n' only darlin" . You identify the object pressing against your cheek as his hand you can't help but lean into it. Though you did not find absolute warmth you still enjoyed it. He brings a small cup up to your lips urging you to drink which you do. Your dry throat rejoices in the new source of water to quench your thirst. The slight flex to your hand which alerts you of a slight sting sends flashes of faux memories through your brain. The animal the thing sucking your hand or your thumb whatever it had been made you involuntarily jolt subsequently some water spilling on you from the cup. "Sorry, sorry" you quickly say between breaths your low energy not equipping fast reflexes. He quickly puts the cup down comforting you by rubbing his hands down the side of your shoulders. "Are you alright what happened?" You try to cough to hide the embarrassing way your voice wobbled. "I'm good 'just- I'm skittish remember?" You try to laugh it off but you can tell he doesn't buy it. He plays along though. This moment of silence allows you to completely regain your senses to see you were still outside, next to the coop in the last position you remember being in.

"I wrapped your thumb real good, shouldn't bleed no more ... what happened to ya? I swear when I walked up I thought ya were just bein' silly with me" ,you pull your injured hand closer to you at its mention. The pliers not so far from you push you to speak, "I was trynna fix some part of the chicken coop, cut myself, must've lost track of time given I've been out all day in the glazing sun..." the cancerous rays, the heat that seemed to be burning you from inside out. Your healthy hand slaps at your head finding it empty the ground at your sides makes contact with your hand aswell. "Lookin' for this sweet old cowboy hat?" His voice is cocky once you look up you realize why. The straw you bought for was on his head. Fits him perfectly not just around his skull but the way it also frames his face makes you believe it was made specifically for him in mind and he knows this. He can't miss an opportunity to tease,  "Might keep it suits me well, your little brain don't fill it" now it's your turn to not laugh at his attempt to bring light heartedness into the air. You were still disturbed by the weird dream like nightmare you had experienced, adding on your injury aswell both weren't a good combo. Yet even with this you try not to dwell on the way the edges of his mouth tilt downward at your lack of enthusiasm. "That's actually for you.. I was meant to give to ya some time ago 'just was a coward". His mouth does a whole 180 his frown no more instead plastered on is a bashful smile. One that didn't have arrogance, teasing or any ulterior motives behind it. "Well aren't you just the sweetest doll face". You can't help but let the blush roam freely at his praise until that warmth in your belly returns along with a headache. "I should get to bed" as you try to stand a light whince leaves your lips the fact your foot was aching due to the heavy metal pliers that fell on them earlier coming to your attention. Remmick aids you in order to walk out the fence. The chickens were locked in the coop already, his plate of food gone. You don't realize any of this since having your body pressing onto his makes your brain mush.

"I can take it from here, I had just forgot those stupid pliers fell on my foot"  you say as you finally reach the houses back door. He lets you go, "don't forget to clean that wound up tomorrow should help without your pops nagging early mornin'" you laugh and say goodnight the weakness in your bones catching up to you.

The next day right as the sun rises you sit in the kitchen table in silence. A news article from town you had collected left at your door and Alcohol from your father's stash on the table as you stare at the oddly physically pleasant gash infront of you. Something was odd, you've received your own fair share of cuts, scrapes and injuries none of them compared to this one. It was as if where the skin broke was just an illusion, no blood left to clean or seep out just your pink flesh beneath your skin. You shift in your seat recounting the lapping at your finger that sent tingles down to your feet. It was all so weird, you never had vivid dreams like those and you could still feel its presence around you. It's hunger, need to suck you dry... but was it your blood it wanted or your soul? You sound like a kid overanalyzing your nightmares. It was just a nightmare that was all, you told yourself. Plus if any weird animal had been near you Remmick would've of noticed. He would've done something. Would he?

Your brain seems to be enjoying playing devils advocate forcing you to shake your head and stand from the chair in disagreement. Though you connected that the newspaper you had read. 'Couple missing child dead' was who Genevieve must've been talking about. No longer wanting to let your brain to spiral out of control you decide a shower would probably serve you well. So you do just that letting the comforting hands of the water caress your naked body while the wound on your hand isn't affected by the soap. You hum to yourself a tune one you've never heard of before, didn't even know the words to yet your brain simultaneously did. Something so normal you did everyday made you wonder back to the couple from town. 'Bert and Joan' the article of their tragedy had mentioned their names. Were they vigilant knowing something would happen or were they doing their daily tasks like you were right now? They were probably enjoying day until someone decided to make a mess of their lives let alone a baby. Whoever had done that deserved the worst penalty a judge could offer. It sadness your heart too much that you push the subject to the back of your brain. After you brush your hair out and put a new pair of fresh clothes on you decide to take a look at the small box you kept hidden away in your closet. It was your mother's. The only thing you had left of her.

There's few letters you read over too many times to count while growing up, miscellaneous objects and a photograph. It was in black n' white starting to peel right over her face. This photograph had been the only thing that connected you to your mother. now all that was left was a still picture of her beautifully clothed frame and one quarter of her face. Maybe it was for the best, you didn't know much about her and your pops said she just up n' left one day. You still held onto hope. The way she wrote, expressing her emotions just didn't seem to coincide with the woman your father portrayed her to be. What catches your attention though is this book, very dusty n' old. The secrets of the past, your hands trail over the title indented on the cover. Looking at the table of contents it seems to be an explanation book for medicinal recipes, herbs, then towards the end of the book you see "creatures". While trying to flip the pages over to that section you go downstairs. It's past mid day, the sun still strong so you lay down on the couch. With the book in your hand you start reading about wendigos and skin walkers of the sort. Their stalking abilities, ways to manipulate their prey, sharp teeth, their need for human flesh. That specific part was underlined, someone had read this book with passion, little notes on the side, phrases circled. Maybe your mother or a familiar... while you continue your investigation somewhere along the way you knock out. Cold and surrounded by darkness there’s Voices that start to whisper in your ear. They're indescribable except for the way it sounds like they're reciting a prayer. There's no fear just tranquility their hushness proving comforting. You can't relish in it long until they start getting louder a tone of desperation infecting them. Then your name being repeated. You try to move, stir yourself awake but nothing works. Your heart beat rings in your ears taunting you along with their cries, blood curling screams. A voice overtakes all of them in screaming your name.

You sit straight up gasping for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. It felt too real the vibrations of their voices still living deeply inside your ear drums. There's no time left to help yourself focus on calming your tremors down until a knock echos through the living room. Your blood pressure spikes from the sound but you force yourself up. It was dark out making you realize your nap took more than what you believed. The floor creaks underneath your bare feet with every step you take. Once you reach the door you hesitate. What if I'm going insane with stress and you're just hearing things? It was dark out, you were alone with no way to defend yourself... you decide on the next best course of action. Peaking through the medium sized window the door had your fingers pushed the drapes aside eyes coming in contact with a man facing away but you knew that sweaty hair anywhere and the banjo strapped on his back.

Quickly you open the door relieved to see Remmick as he turns around the cowboy hat you'd given him in hand. "Hey sweetheart" but you don't give him a response. He notices your eyes darting left and right the way you fidget with your fingers as if trying to tie a rope. Due to the lack of communication back he speaks again, "you alright 'seem on edge?". You try to brush it off but he moves forward on the little steps located at the front of the door. "I'm here for ya, 'can tell me anythin' ". He was at your doorstep, close to your house something he never did because he was overly cautious of your father catching a glimpse at him. An unspoken rule. "don't forget to clean that wound up tomorrow should help without your pops nagging early mornin'"

"Should help without your pops nagging early mornin'"

"How'd ya know?" You ask before thinking. He's a bit taken back by the out of the context question. "What da ya mean?". "How'd ya know my pops wasn't here?" You can see the warmth in his eyes falter for only a split second subconsciously you stopped leaning towards him. He laughs in your face making you rethink the sudden hostility on your end. "Cars gone, got hurt yesterday with no one to help, he'd done somethin' similar last week? 'Don't know darlin' don't take a genius to figure this one out". You sigh in disappointment at yourself joining him in a chuckle. He was the only one who cared for you, never hurt you, someone you considered a confidant sort of like Genevieve back in town. "Sorry, don't know what's wrong with me   I've just been havin' these nightmares must be the stress.." you rub your temples dragging your hair away from your face. He quiets down his voice more cut dry and for the first time since you met him you heard him sound unsure "What these nightmares about... if you don't mind me askin' ". You look up at him once more eyebrows scrunching trying to recall. "I'm not sure.. uhh monsters, voices or somethin' it's odd" it's not that you didn't want to tell him, you just weren't so sure of it yourself."Well good things they're just nightmares" he hums as he seems to be analyzing you. His gaze made you surprisingly uneasy but this feeling dwindles as he chirps . "There's this place over by the forest, it's where I find myself more often than not ... throughout the day of course. It's real sweet with a stream, nice little area to sit n' sing where the air hits nicely. Would love to share my place of paradise with ya if ya'd want to f'course".

It seemed enticing, intimate, but the crickets in the air and darkness that seeped from the forest haunting the background made you shake your head softly, "sorry.. not today". You had never been one to deny him you were always so eager to please. He forces a smile, "I understand, im a man here asking a lady to take a stroll along the concealed forest alone in the late of the night" you can see him take a few steps down the small flight of stairs. "It's not that Remmick, I really would love to it's just..." you can't find the words, the excuse, because it didn't exist. "... just can't" The last string of events had scrambled your brain like eggs in the morning. You weren't sure what to put faith in. With this rejections you can feel the disappointment In the way his shoulders drop. "It's alright.. I'll be, heading to sleep then, go catch your own z's ". His poor excuse for a laugh following his words was awkward. You should reach out to him, grab his hand before he goes too far for you bare feet could reach. But you never do watching as he settles inside the fence you can only murmur a small "goodnight" that doesn't even reach his ears. the small click back from the door signifies your end of the night as you lock it. You don't glance at the clock just dragging your feet on the floor all the way up to your room. Unlike before where you would just knock your self out with boredom instead you are subjected to torture by your lack of a dormant brain. The inability to succumb to sleep being the perpetrator. You wasn’t insomnia just the fleeting thought of danger being near never leaving, it was like you knew something was bound to happen something terrible, but couldn't pin point exactly when. Your father hadn't come home, the stressful nightmares, remmicks odd behavior or was it yours? This was all too much to digest. You sit up from your bed abruptly standing no longer being able to force your eyes shut to pretend sleep. Hours have already gone by. A glass of warm milk would ease the nerves.

You didn't want to waste anymore time putting a small metal pot over the kitchen stove and fetched the milk pouring no more than a cup and putting the white gallon back in its designated space. With a repetitive tick the flames came to life putting in the work to heat up the milk. You sigh, the nightgown you had on was very weightless, soft and borderline sheer but breathable. It allowed the air from your bedroom fan to save your overheating skin in the night. The sudden feeling of your hairs sticking up from your arms and neck have you holding yourself in a hug. Face darting left and right to find anything to explain the cause but only the endless darkness is to find. You grumble turning off the stove not caring if the milk was treading the fine line between cold and warm. You chug it, big gulps no complains, it wasn't that usual warm feeling that traveled through your intestines just bland mildness. You slam the cup down having to drag your forearm to remove some of the excess. Sleep. Now go to sleep, your bedroom. You take steps to go back, the lights being right before the stairs working in your favor. Once you you hear the click your vision returns to being useless. Mind set on one goal finally catching sleep but a shuffle very soft that could be easily missed if not paying attention makes you freeze in place. There's an urge to turn but you tell yourself to keep going on your way for your own sake. Eyes forward move forward. You don't though, instead you slowly twist your head behind you out of curiosity. It was the same sentiment as being adamant on seeing a spider hiding below your bed instead of living in blissful ignorance and pretending its presence wasn’t there. Except this wasn’t a 8 legged friend. You were seeing eyes glowing back at you as clear as the stars in the night sky. They weren't a beautiful shinny white, odd green or blue like a wild animal.. no a menacing blood red. This should've sent you flying up the stairs but they're hypnotizing persuading you to stay a little longer. It doesn't move making sure you know that it sees you too. With the obscurity of the lack of light you can't make up much apart from its eyes, too far away near a window to even see if the creature was inside the 4 walls of your home or outside. A light breath leaves your soft lips, you could feel the blood rushing in your veins the way your pulse beats. Hesitantly you turn yourself back towards the stairs. This time you do what you told yourself, what you should’ve done in the beginning. Walking up you forbid yourself from looking back, making your way back to your bedroom you finally crawl back into the cold sheets. Your Dazed, staring at the ceiling while pinching your own arm to make sure you weren't in a dream. You were convinced you had officially gone insane. Nightmares are one thing, hallucinations are another. Must be the lack of sleep. You landed on that excuse and finally after a few long dragged minutes you felt the heaviness of your eyelids stars to weigh themselves down. You let it consume you but peace didn't follow.

There's a thud making shuffle but it doesn't sound loud enough to make your eyes open wide. Just squint until inevitably you groan, choosing slumber over worrying. Sleep.

A whisper tingles the shell of your ear . A breeze makes you shiver subconsciously clutching the sheets to keep you warm. That masculine voice around your ear is back again wrapping around your brain like a blanket of safety and security. Something slithers inside your inner thigh, caressing, teasing the supple skin making your breath hitch. It was soft and felt so right. You craved more, opening your body and soul up to the feeling letting it climb up and take as it pleased. No hesitation just need. An offering is what you were, letting it build a home inside, beneath your skin, allowing it the privilege to consume you. And it did, a sharp sting your mind can't even process correctly develops somewhere in your body. A sound comes from your mouth but was it from pleasure or pain?

Your eyes scrunched, a groggy moan ripping from your throat out of frustration. The bright day light hitting your cornea forcing you to wake. Whilst sitting up you crane your neck back and to the side feeling a temporary relief. You shut your eyes, smiling from feeling so free. Even if you were sleep deprived there was some sort of energy helping you feel content. Opening your eyes you pulled the covers off, standing, it isn't till your changing clothes you feel a cold sweat invade your body. While lifting the weightless satin dress you see two bigger than normal bites on your wrist. You could've brushed it off as a bug bite, some spider but you knew that for it to hold validity the spider would've had to been a huge tarantula and craving human flesh or blood. You feel your eyes water, this wasn't caused by a human or animal. So like some afraid child you quickly make haste putting on the necessities skipping brushing your hair and run out of your room ignoring a light stench in the air because your father was of greater concern . It wasn't long till mid day surely he'd be downstairs. "Papa..?" You hesitantly speak once in the living room but only silence greets you. In desperation you go to grab the back door to check outside and you find it unlocked. It was already a weekday today you had forgotten, he was probably at work probably came home and left, that would explain the unlocked door. But he if made it home he would've woke you up early. He hates when you oversleep. There's many thoughts racing in your head as you pace back and forth. You'd just go to the last place you knew he had probably visited, the town.

The roads hug your shoes as you walk by the side walk. As each person passes by you ask if they have seen your father describing him even trying to show them a a picture from home but they all either ignore you or seem far too uninterested. You had wrapped your arm tightly with a bandage to cover your bite which you couldn't help but tug on. It was creating an uncomfortable friction. There was a familiar sign across the street the likes of the people were much kinder there, Genevieve was a great example. But you knew you father wouldn't be caught dead on the other side of the road let alone in a shop full of "foreign useless people". So You go inside the white owned shop instead knowing he'd surely buy his liquor here. While going in you hold the door open for a woman and her child, the child mutters a cute thank you which you try to reciprocate with a 'your welcome' but the mother gives you a nasty look tugging them away.

You stand there at the entrance a bit weary as you finally have to face the many side eyes people were giving you. A particular man stands out who was walking your way, a smile comes up to your lips, rehearsing your lines in your head but he makes contact with your shoulder roughly instead. There's a slight clench of your heart at this, but he goes on as if nothing, paying the cashier for his booze and leaving. Your left there looking stupid and lost. The past days had been miserable leaving you with little will. Should've gone home-should've just waited and stayed home. As you're beating yourself up you don't notice the cashier coming from his side of the counter to you. His kind eyes looking at you snap you out of your thoughts realizing he greeted you, even with a stutter you greet him back. "Is there someway I can help you?". The first person to ask, you try your best to not let your voice wobble, "I- yes.. I'm trynna find my father he's missin' ". He's listening to you muttering out a small, "that's terrible". " it is haven't seen him for days n' I've gotten concerned. But he's usually along these parts of town especially durin' the weekends so I'm sure someone has spoken to or atleast caught sight of him" while your rambling you don't see how he's luring you outside, using the fact you were following him to his advantage. His expression is one of understanding or so you thought, "look I'd really love to help you just can't be bothering the people in there". "I wasn't- that wasn't my intention I.." you realize what he's doing now, feeling the heat of the sun once more. There's a pause in the conversation both of you staring at each other. He simply tilts his head in 'I don't care what you got to say just leave I'm trying to be nice'. Then someone calls out to you from behind with cheerfulness, it isn't till you turn you see finally who it is. "Haven't seen you round' no more how has your chicken coop been?". Her warm voice provides some instant relief from the stress. You allow Genevieve to envelop you in her arms. You even squeeze a little tighter. "Don't come back near my store again or it won't be pretty" the sudden hostile voice of the once delightful cashier leaves you a bit angry but you don't voice it.

"It be best if we go back to mines," she grabs your hand leading you to the other side of the road but you dig your feet in the ground not letting her. Whatever it was inside you or around you it was always following not so behind form your last step. You didn't even know if whatever had bit you was contagious so even with her oh so soothing hand consoling yours you abruptly let go. "I can't.." she turns confused, "what do ya mean you can't?". The top of your teeth catch your bottom lip in a nice grip. For once in your life you wished she wouldn't be so caring so tender and concerned for your well being. "What's wrong?" Yet another question of hers that meets no answer instead you slowly add space even if it's a just a few centimeters. She sees the picture of your father in your hand and the way your eyes were on the brink of tears something was undoubtedly wrong.  "Girl don't be silly with me now n' answer me" she grew loud frustrated with your silence garnering attention from the townsfolk. Your hand fumbles with the edges of the band around your wrist. If she just knew maybe she could help me I wouldn't have to deal with this alone. It happened so fast her hand tugging the cloth , you pulling away in attempt to prevent it from slipping away revealing the two puncture wounds that were now accompanied with purple and yellow hues. You can't help but gasp slapping the skin, covering it with your hand desperately looking around.

Genevieve's eyes were wide a look of disbelief or was it fear overtaking her face? She had heard the murmurs of creatures far beyond the physical realm from her ancestors. When the two people from town went missing it was all the people around her could talk about . The creature with sharp teeth, serpent split tongue Who's diet consisted of consuming human blood.  It seemed far fetched but it was all true and now one of her dearest friends have come in contact with the being and bitten. Under her breath she whispered, "vampire".

You felt exposed like Eve had felt under the gaze of the lord in the garden of Eden; Shame, guilt and Alienation all in one. When you feel the cold tear run down your hot cheek is the moment you start running ignoring the calls for you to stay. The adrenaline pumping from your heart makes you run miles, with no brakes just your legs pushing till they finally make it to the only place that seemed to cause all these problems. Your home, but you don't go inside. Instead you go to your chicken coop wanting to be enveloped in its darkness, the constant patter of the chickens feet simulating a tune and the smell of pleasant must. It reminded you of Remmick. He'd surely come home soon and rid you of your worries, destroy the chaos. You sniffled into your shoulder, cowering like defenseless animal in the corner of the chicken coop. The small gurgles of the chickens offer you an environment to be able to sleep even if it was just pretend. You lose track of time, sun finally setting and wake up when you can't catch a break from the chickens pecking at your skin. The stiff chips of wood stick to your skin but you don't mind releasing them as you stand. With the small creak you stumble outside praying to find your pops car out front and his harsh voice reprimanding you for not having cleaned the house so you could erase the anxiety running rapid through your body as a terrible dream. There's no sight of any of those things though just the lousy cicadas in the night air.

Psst. The noise made you whip around only the darkness present. "Hello?" You speak daringly into the void of the night, heart thumping. "Still gotta work on the not jumping like a little rabbit every time ya'r scared" you can let out the trapped breath in your chest as you see a very care free remmick walk up to you from the outside of your fence. You would've gone to him in an instant if it weren't for the two people behind him. Noticing your hesitance to get closer he experimentally spoke, "brought some friends with me too if you don't mind". They were smiling warmly at you but it felt so empty, their faces reflecting that of the nullified night surrounding them. "Remmick-" you were about to tell him to make them go away, that you just needed a moment alone with him. The whole day you had been waiting. Though picking up on your distress he caught you off guard asking a rhetorical question, "is it the nightmares again?" . You foolishly try to answer "yes but-". "Well your in luck that's why I brought my good ol' couple from in town to try n' cheer ya up" as if on que the 3 of them readied their instruments ignoring your protest and they started playing. It was harmonic very beautiful but to you in this moment it sounded like sharp metal scratching on another metal surface. Undoubtedly Irking your soul. "I picked poor robin clean" the 3 of them sang at the same time but in 3 different tones that came together skillfully. "Picked poor robin clean". You bit your lip in bubbling anger their voices becoming more irritating than their instruments by the second. Certainly you'd explode into a fit of rage, we'll that was until the next line, "picked his head, I picked his feet, I woulda picked his body but it wasn't fit to eat". Their joy, their genuine smirks especially Remmicks when singing those words unnerved you. A jolly tone with odd words that traveled down your spine "oh I picked poor robin clean...

they continue, their words fade out in your head eyes unfocusing as you get sucked into the back of your mind where your thoughts remained. You didn't want to believe it or even consider the very fact that the young couple in-front of you could be who the towns people had whispered about like some sort of myth. If they were what was Remmick doing with them? Was he the one who terrorized them and their babe? your mind recalled many of the times you had found his behavior odd. He only met you in the darkness of night, disappeared during the day, he was the only one who had access to your home. The bruise on your arm he hadn't even pointed it out. He was innocent you pushed back against your thoughts. And you would prove it.

As their song comes to an end stillness hangs in the air. Remmick stands there waiting for you next move. Realizing how guilty you looked you tried to cough the hesitance stuck in your throat. "I never caught y'all's names". Having all 3 of their eyes on you felt like you were back in the town. Except this time it was much more carnal like predators surrounding their prey.  You shift on your feet, remmicks demeanor changing as he leans into the fence form the outside. The couple doesn’t answer just staring ahead as you hear Remmick chuckle, "well.. this right here is Joan and he, he's Bert". You feel your heart drop to the earths core at this revelation, face full of alarm. you try changing it but God knows it's far too late. He notices and knows that you know.

"Took ya so long" your confused at his words but he doesn't waste a beat to quickly diminish your doubt. "I was startin' to think that little brain of yours wasn't good for much". You're unsure if to be offended and hurl a venomous insult back or cower away . His body defies gravity for a second as he lifts himself over the fence standing between the both of you far too easily. "W-what did you do?" There's still hope inside you that this was just a big understanding. "What I do to them .. or to you?" He nudges his head behind him then to you. His eyes trailing up and down your frame until getting stuck on your wrist. This time you don't cover your wound unlike back in town. When his eyes finally lift themselves to yours you see them shine a deep red. The same deep red that tournamented you yesterday night and dreamed about belonging to that creature who sucked your thumb feverishly while his mouth was covered in your blood. A dream. you can't help the way your chest starts to constrict, eyes stinging. He lets out a cold laugh faux concern, "oh please don't cry doll I'll love it too much n' I'll just be forced to make more pretty tears come out of ya." As he takes a step forward you take a step back. It becomes a twisted game he enjoys while teasing your desperation. The sadistic way he showed worry yet loved your helplessness left you disheartened with the idea of this going back to normal. The way things had been when you met him"Stay away.." your voice is weak and wobbly, hands coming up to signal his halt. He doesn't listen leaving you back to the fence as your hand touches his chest. Remmick wasn't a tall man just average but when he got this close to you it made him feel giant. "Thats not what you wanted last night" his empty breath hits your face, an act you may have yearned for before but not anymore. There's a shudder running through you as he presses his body into yours, his leg between your thighs inching your skirt up. You turn your head in shame, knowing exactly what he meant. Despite the mental acknowledgement of the danger this man posed your body still desired him responding eagerly.

He thrived seeing you like this the woman so poised and respectful he had met in tears from her own disgusting desires. An infection he grew to become, corrupting not just your thoughts but body, mind and soul. Nothing could sadate his carnal lust just like you but he wouldn't get ahead of himself yet.

His hand drags your sight back to him with only a finger on your chin. Your pliant submission was back but out of fright not real trust. This time you notice his appearance change again apart from his peculiar eyes. The clear, thick liquid seeping from the right of his mouth. Spit. And the sharp fangs his k-9's became as he smiles at you. It clicks in your head the last words Genevieve had muttered out to you "vampire". You expect him to take a bite to end your life but instead he takes a step back leaving you to fend your weight against gravity. "Should go see if daddy's all good upstairs, haven't seen him out here all day" his voice drips with sarcasm. You take a step back expecting him to play with you more but he doesn't. While you slowly walk away, opening the fence door you take one final look behind him. The couple he had came with was still behind the fence sitting idly by as if they were hypnotized.

When your a good feet apart you dash inside and up the stairs having to fight the growing stink in the house especially when you reach the second floor. "Papa!" You call out to him , the hall seeming too dark and longer than usual. There was the adrenaline rushing through your veins that urged you to be faster . As your warm hands grab the handle of your father's room opening it wide the stench of death hits you before the sight. You have to cover you mouth from the smell and absolute horror. There was blood all over the walls, bed his body and his head... it didn't seem quite attached to the rest of him. Eyes wide in shock staring directly at you as if he had kept the face from probably seeing the monster Remmick was. You didn't let yourself see the specifics of the plethora of wounds on his body slamming the door shut. You have to fight the gag trying to push its way out from the bottom of your stomach. A light headedness winds you as your walking away hand over your stomach from the unsettling scene you had witness forever engraved in your brain. One wrong step as your going down the stairs has you tumbling down. You grunt and let the tears you have kept at bay finally spill rushing down with no limit. You weakly get up close to the kitchen table where the liquor from the morning still laid. Your heart clenched at the reminder of this bottle always being around your dad's hand along with his pestering. He may had grown rude and absent for most of your life but he would always be your father. The man who once was a child who did wrong but was still half of you. You bite you hand in an attempt to get rid of the overstimulation of your lymphatic system. Not caring if it drew blood. "The sadness will subside, will weaken with time. sacrifices must be made for freedom".

Your mood soured hearing his voice. He sounded like a fucking preacher what was he now your savior? Is that what he tought. That he had been doing you a service murdering your father like some wild animal with no dignity? There was an unexplainable fire starting to build in your chest. "I can offer freedom that never dwindles, never ceases to exist. Ya won't be anyone's caged bird anymore-". With not another thought you let your instincts take over swiftly grabbing the almost empty liquor bottle and swinging it behind you. He doesn't for see your sudden action not moving out of the way fast enough all you hear is a big thud. The bottle still gripped tightly your hand with no crack. His head is turned toward the direction of your swing, eyelids twitching as he seemed to be taking in the hit. You stand fiercely a mere a feet or two away. You expect anger a violent action back in response but instead he chuckles condescendingly. "you’re letting anger cloud your judgement doll" . You wished you would’ve never been nice to him, never let him in your home and watched him rot out in the wilderness. “Let that go” he commands seeing the way your grip on the bottle doesn’t lessen. “No..” your eyebrows furrow “ya just don’t get ta decide things for me, y-ya can’t just do this ‘didn’t ask for any of this! ” even through the sadness is still evident in your body, you still find your voice. His words your genuine protest made him displeased . He had seen you marble at utterly anything normal, his instrument, himself and the way you responded so sweetly to his touches. You were a bird in a cage. Your father had willingly created your life to revolve around him and he had simply given you the choice now to be with him instead. Were you just plain ol’ stupid? “Ya needed this, I saved you from your helpless nights, the endless chores, the boring ol’ cycle of your insignificant’ life became”. This is when you see him start stomping over to you with a glint of fire behind his eyes. “I didn’t need no saving” you spit out while your lower back was pressed on the floor able. He calms down before grabbing a hold of your jaw before uttering out, “oh my sweet little dumb thing, you do”. Those crimson eyes slice through your wrath realizing no matter how much you protested there was no way out of your predicament. No matter the many ways you sliced it he couldn’t be moved, like some heavy boulder restricting your path. “You all do..” his sharp nails dig into the skin of your cheeks making them sting. There’s a small but heavy knock at the front door that doesn’t make him react just letting your calmly go. Retracting himself from you he watches as you wrestle with the choice of opening the door or not. His look was forbidding but would require trust from you which he had run out of. It was ultimatum that hung in the air without being said , ‘open the door and your reject him or leave it be then open your arms to the sweetness of “salvation” ‘

Another heavy knock seeming more desperate had you turning and directly heading to the door not caring for Remmick any longer. You weren’t sure who you were quite expecting maybe a passer by, another stranger. “You had me stressing’ girl why’d ya not answer fast enough?” Her honeyed voice and her careful glance was such a contrast to the way you looked now. “My lords heaven’ what happened to you!” Genevieve tries to come inside and grab your cheeks now decorated with little droplets of blood streaming down. But you semi close the door on her not completely but just enough to stop her from coming in. “Gene you have to leave- you can’t be here” your hands shakes on the door knob. You didn’t want her to be affected by the consequences of your own actions. Seeing how far it got you father you didn’t want her to meet his same fate but she didn’t listen. “Look I know what I did back in town was horrid I truly apologize for that.” Every time you try to open you mouth to interject she elongated her sentence. “ I came here to make things right to make sure you okay and to say I can help you I know-“ she’s caught off being pounced on like animal by something or someone out of your line of sight with a thud. You were about to react until a hard hand comes to the door from your side slamming it loudly closed. All you are left to do is be willfully tormented by her screams of agony as Remmick locks the front door. “Promised my ol’ couple some food, they were just hungry as dogs” he says this sentiment with sort of lightness, even letting out a small ‘woof woof’. Your stomach twists in disgust and terror having to create distance between the both of you.

He tsk'ed in disappointment at your choice. Noticing your desire to push him aside he doesn't shy away from twitching his upper lip to show you his gnarly fangs. "What a shame I really did like Genevieve" he mocks you slowly moving forward. Another blow to the muscle pumping in your chest called your heart wetting your dry cheeks once more in tears. What would you say to her husband and her kid if you walked away alive. You wouldn't have the courage to look them in the eye and tell them about your cowardliness. How you watched their mother die whilst you were inside in the comforts of your home.

With a scream you rely on instincts jumping on Remmick . This time he expects your fit of violence being able to take your arms in his grasps. You try pushing and pulling to break free but nothing budges. He wasn't a big man so why in the hell could you not be strong enough to fight his hands? It looked like a dance you both were having with your twisting and turning making you really live out the ambiance of a juke joint wild but free. It isn't until your able to kick him that your able to make him loosen his grip to break away. His rough voice calls out as you dart to the kitchen trying to find something to arm yourself with,"All this fightin' wont end up pretty for ya" you ignore him now scowering the plethora of eating utensils in the cabinet. "givin' ya a warnin' you should really heed darlin' " his cockiness, the pet names is what you wanted to wipe clear from his face forcing his mouth to never speak again. You turn to face him standing in the middle of the room with a knife. Shiny and anything but dull. His eyes seem to light up at the thought of you wielding such a dangerous object. Not a spec of fear in his nonexistent soul as you walk up to him eyebrows furrowed, a scowl on your face and all. "Don't be silly and give me that thing" He had played this game before long ago. Your genuine hatred was being conveyed in one single long look, fingers clenching in dire need to cause damage. He extends his hand up for you to lay the knife in his hand to submit.

Instead once you're close enough with no hesitation you pierce his hand not just slashing but digging it in until you could see it from the other side. With haste you twist it back at him so the sharp metal is now threatening his chest. With a burn in your thighs and all your might you push forward successfully overtaking any attempt of a protest to your attack. There's a loud grunt from him as the fact the knife dug deeply into his upper chest. It's quickly overtaken by the fact he loses his balance, back against the small sofa sending him backward into it and taking you along with him. Somewhere while taking the fall you let go of the knife to protect yourself instead.  Winded you try to catch your breath looking over to the side you realized you had missed the edge of the coffee table by an inch. What terrifies you is seeing Remmick stand up, his unwounded hand grabbing the knife handle twisting out of his chest and hand simultaneously with a squelch. You think this is when he’ll get his comeback digging the knife into your heart as he stands above you. Bracing yourself your eyes close but instead you hear the cling from the knife being thrown aside. His Hands coming to the collar of your blouse lifting you up with no difficulty and harshly sending you crashing into the coffee table. The glass breaks instantly some of the wood creating a hard surface to simulate a hard punch to your gut. “Thought you’d be different but you’ve got a fire that never dies just like your mother”. He’s out of breath as he speaks and when he mentions the woman you have never met you wish nothing more than to commit cold blooded murder. Your hands extend in-front of you carefully to attempt to lift yourself up but his foot comes to press down on the skin on the other side of your palm. “she wanted nothin’ more than to desperately live that’s what made it so much more excitin’ to snuff her out”. You cry out in agony as the pressure of his foot causes specs of glass to carve a home into your palm. He decides it’s enough when you pathetically paw at his shoe. You’re able to take a glance at the disgusting wound before you’re being dragged from your collar again. No care for the way the destroyed table poked and burns your knees or body. He brings you all the way up to the wall facing the front door and forcing you on your feet. Your knees are giving out but he makes sure to hold you in place steadily by your neck

“What do ya desperately want hmm?” He teases with a tap to your cheek as he watches you became the defenseless rabbit he knew once again. Red teary eyes defeated just accepting what would be made of you just like your father and Genevieve. This sight arouses him inching his face closer he breathes onto you obnoxiously, “could’ve had so many delicious nights with ya stuck on my mouth oh do I miss your heavenly taste” you spit at him for talking about you as some sort of object. Realizing all those “dreams” you believed to have had were nothing of the sort. Just your mind trying to make sense of events happening to your sleeping body to warn you of the violating creature you’re ashamed to call a man infront of you at your wake. His wet muscle slides out from his mouth, tongue split in two like some sort of serpent to lick it up from the side of his cheek. A big grumble of satisfaction form his chest. “Now I need me some more”. His lips come to yours not in the doting way you expected your first kiss to be but hungry and lustful. You fight against him the sloppy kiss making spit smear all over your lips. Your teeth chomp down in order to make him stop biting his lip , hard.

he curses letting your neck go sending your sliding down. You thought of fighting again or fleeing but your body was far too tired. So instead You're stuck in place fighting the heaviness of your eyelids and tasting the irony substance in your mouth. He squats down infront of you with a lip decorated in red.

Forced you are to look at the man before you that you once considered a friend, dare you say lover, finding him to be completely unrecognizable. He fixes your sweaty blood specs covered hair whilst grazing your cheek tenderly like he had done a few happy summer days ago. "Every time you wake up in the mornin n' take a breath of fresh air, maybe even while looking at the sun setting with a child on your hip" he starts. The once gentle hands griping the back of your head, hair and all, harshly craning your neck back. You can't even let out a whine properly without your lungs hurting . " 'want ya to remember ya don't get to do that because ya were brave or strong enough" he can't help but grumble at the sentiment of you believing these things about yourself. His tone grows dark as he hushes the final dialogue onto you like something sacred only for you and his ears only.

"no ....it's because I allowed you to"

he licks a long stripe up your cheek relishing your sweet blood before he abruptly lets go of your head and leaves you helplessly on the ground. His light steps barely even leaving a track of sound in your ear drums as he opens the once closed door. He walks over your dead friends body only her legs visible from your spot. His body isn't tense, instead he strolls away with a pep in his step, the hat you had given him on his head and you can faintly hear him hum that song. Pick poor robin clean. As if it were a regular Monday night. As if he hadn't turned your life upside down just for fun. The couple from earlier appear from the sides of the door covered in blood Bert taking a hold of one of Genevieve’s weightless legs. Joan give you a smile and a wave with her sharp canines before they start walking away your friend dragged in the dirt along with them. You reap the consequences while Remmick was walking away Scot free. Your heart burns, skin boils, face scorns, mustering up all of your strength you let out a scream of pain, anger and agony all at once. Not caring if it scratched your throat painfully. He keeps moving unfazed until his body is a mere spec in your vision. Your Pathetically Left behind feeling the ache in your bones deep inside, the blood oozing out of your body the stinging tears trailing down your sliced skin. Choosing the mortal cage called your human flesh.

You knew he'd always be hiding in the shadows of the night, waiting, and in some twisted way that brought you comfort.

Authors note: this was so long in the making! I I tried my best to interpret the character of Remmick to the best of my abilities without having seen the movie. I apologize for any spelling mistakes and if you asked to be tagged but weren’t it’s probably because your acc didn’t show up when I tried tagging you. Apart from that I enjoyed writing this and I hope y’all enjoyed it too! :)

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Tags: @duckyhowls @seashelleseashellsbytheseashore @thecutestaaakawaii @akumazwrld

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[https-bobreynolds]

a favor

pairing: robert ‘bob’ reynolds x reader

summary: bob has been having trouble getting sleep, so he asks his crush teammate for a favor.

warning: reader is sooooo whipped for bob

author’s note: so pissed rn i was already halfway with the story then my phone decided to restart and i didn’t get to save it :) this is based on one of my headcanons of bob that you can read here

it was half an hour past midnight on a regular friday, you were already fast asleep, given the fact that you just went home from a long mission. you thought that you were going to be able to enjoy this sleep more than you did, until you heard the constant knocking on your front door.

you sighed, being awaken from your dreamland. you quickly sat up and walked to the front door, wanting to murder whoever was disturbing your sleep, “i swear to God, if it’s- oh hi bob.”

the man stood there with a guilty face, fidgeting with his sleeve, a nervous habit. there was a long pause before he started, “h-hey, y/n. can i ask you something?” his voice was hesitant, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before darting away again.

“of course you can” you quickly said, looking at him with a mixture of genuineness and confusion.

he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. therw was a moment of hesitation, then he spoke again. his words came out in a rushed tumble, almost like he was worried he’d lose the courage to say them if he didn’t hurry. “can i… can i ask you for a favor? it’s sort of… it’s kinda dumb.” he admitted, his cheeks flushing a bit brighter.

“anything, bob. what is it?” you replied softly. at this point you were already cursing at yourself at how obvious you were that you’re absolutely whipped for this man.

he chewed nervously on his lower lip, the nervous habit seemingly taking over. he was still avoiding eye contact, his gaze dropping to his hands that fidgeted on his lap. “i- i uh… i know it’s stupid,” he said, his voice quieter now. “but i’m just… i’m having a hard time… falling asleep is all.”

“oh!” she exclaimed, a bit surprised as the favor but nonetheless, “no, no it’s not stupid. how can i help you.?” she asks, genuinely nervous uncertain on what to do.

he shrugged again, his gaze still averted. he was uncomfortable, whether from his own request or the realization that he couldn’t just power through his insomnia on his own, you weren’t sure. maybe both. he looked tired, and his expression was conflicted. bob fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt, refusing eye-contact. ”i-i don’t know,” he muttered. “it’s just… could you… uh, could i sit with you for a bit?”

you could only nod to the man, leading him right to your bed. you sat on one side, patting the other one down to let him know that it was okay to sit there, to which he immediately does- a bit too fast for his liking.

you moved closer to bob but still maintaining a small distance, afraid to make him more uncomfortable than he already is. you thought to yourself for quite a while before asking softly, almost coming out as a whisper, “can i touch you, bob?”

he finally looked up at you, his expression caught between surprise and hesitation. he was still nervous, but there was something else there too, something almost like hope. his gaze flickered to her hand, then back to her face. he swallowed hard, then nodded. It was a small motion, barely visible. a silent ‘yes’.

you nodded back at him, one hand moving to carefully caress his arm, almost as if you was writing down something. and the other moving to play with his hair gently, massaging his scalp from time to time, “this okay.?”

he shivered at the contact, but it was a shiver of pleasure. hus eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a soft sigh. bob leaned into your touch, his body losing some of the tension it had been holding onto. despite the initial hesitation, he clearly craved the physical contact, needed it, maybe. his body spoke volumes, even if his words couldn’t. “y-yeah,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “that’s… that’s more than okay.”

you hummed as a response, letting your hands continue the magic… eventually, you started humming a lullaby your mom used to sing for you, back when you couldn’t sleep as a child. the flood of memories making you a bit more sleepy as well.

bob’s expression relaxed even further as you hummed that old lullaby. his shoulders slumped, and he almost seemed to melt into your touch. it was strange, the all-powerful sentry, reduced to a puddle under the slightest touch and some old song. he leaned in, his head tilting to the side, almost like a stray cat being stroked.

you noticed his movement, somewhat understanding what he wants- needs. you moved the hand that was caressing his arm to his jaw, ever so slightly tracing his jawline. the other stroking his head, all still whilst humming the lullaby.

he leaned even further into your touch, practically purring like a cat. it was fascinating, truly, this powerful man, reduced to a relaxed mess just from the simplest of touches. he seemed desperate for more, like he’d never been on the receiving end of such gentleness before. and now that he was, he couldn’t get enough. every brush of your fingers against his skin made him shiver, and each hum from your lips made him melt just a little more.

the sudden realization of your close proximity, the fact that you’re caressing a man on your bed, made a blush creep up your cheeks but she still continued nonetheless. you have also realized that you, have in fact, had never done this kind of skinship before. and the fact that you’re doing this with a profound friend, a teammate even, made your cheeks even more red than it already is.

unbeknownst to you, bob was very much aware of your proximity. the way your knee gently brushed against his leg, the touch of your soft fingers on his skin, the way your breath dusted across his face as you hummed that lovely little song.

you were so close to him, and it was messing with his already rattled brain. he couldn’t deny the way his heart raced and his eyes fluttered shut every time you skimmed a finger against his jaw- he opened his eyes, and saw how red your face was.

the way bob looked at you out of nowhere, caught you off guard, this time you were the one avoiding eye contact, unable to hide your blush. “uhm don’t mind me...” you said softly, pulling away your hands from him, “goodnight bob”

“no, wait, don’t go.” his voice was soft, almost pleading. he reached out, almost on instinct, and caught your hand in his. it was the barest of touches, but the intention was clear.

“o-oh, no yeah, i won’t.” you answered shyly, mentally cursing at yourself once more at how you stuttered with your words. you caressed his hand and said a bit more firmly this time, “i won’t leave you, bob”

his lip twitched at your words, the hint of a smile forming on his face. bob’s grip on your hand loosened, but he didn’t let go. instead, his thumb moved gently over the back of your hand.

”s-stay with me…” he said.

the words were quiet, but there was a hint of desperation in them. he sounded almost like a lost child, searching for comfort in the darkness.

“i will, as long as you’ll have me” you replied, with a smile.

his eyes widened at your response, as if that was the last answer he’d been expecting from you. ”good,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “don’t leave me. i don’t… i don’t want to be alone ever again.” he sounded vulnerable, lost, and more like just ‘bob’ than anything else.

“won’t.” you whispered softly, coming a bit closer, getting rid of any distance the two of you had, “i won’t ever leave you, bob.”

his heart skipped a beat as you came closer, the air between you growing thick with unspoken feelings. his eyes darted over your face, roaming your features as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he looked away.

”p-promise?” he asked, his voice cracking. he searched your gaze, looking for any hint that you were being dishonest.

you looked at him with a genuine look of affection, some might even say… look of love? “i promise, as long as you promise to stay with me too…” you said, carefully caressing one of his cheek, making him let out a shaky sigh.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. it was as if your hand was a lifeline, anchoring him to reality and keeping him from sinking back into the darkness of his own mind.

he leaned forward, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. his breath was warm against your face, and he spoke in a low, almost reverent tone. “i promise… i’ll stay.”

almost as if saying ‘please do, please stay’ you nodded lightly, afraid to lose his touch- like you might never be able to touch him ever again.

he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, seeming to relax at your gesture of affirmation. the tension in his shoulders melted, and he allowed himself to lean in a little closer, basking in the comfort of your presence, pulling yourself to lay on his chest.

for a moment, there was only silence.

he looked down at you, a wide, satisfied smile spreads across his face when he realized you had fallen asleep. he gently brushes his fingers through your hair, taking a moment to admire you. he felt oddly at peace- comfortable in a way he never had been before. there was no tension, no anxiety, no fear… he was just… content.

bob let out a long sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, your limbs tangling together. he was tired- exhausted, really- and he let himself drift off into sleep, a small, faint smile still on his face.

bonus: the next morning

“that favor doesn’t seem so stupid now, huh?”

“n-no, not so stupid at all…”

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[bananafieldnotes]

beg for me

★ abstract: it’s ‘70s chicago and stack’s a single man on the prowl for his match. you’re about to give him more than he bargained for

content disclosure: smut, technical age gap, black!reader, fem!reader x stack, dirty talk, public sex, fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, canon deviation, ongoing series

author’s note: hello! this is my first ‘sinners’ fic of what i hope to be many! i’m not new to writing fanfic but this is a fresh blog, and my first time writing fic about a film. i wrote this blurb with the intention of turning it into a series so feedback is so appreciated!! i’m very open to asks and requests as well :) i had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it

🚧 edit: t*mblr fucked me over with the 'read more' bar and it cut an entire paragraph of context :/ i've added it back since this fic's original posting 5.13

You’d heard all the stories from your creole cousins about vampires, how they walk amongst the living without detection. That there were even vampires that could walk in sunlight unharmed by its rays. None of it scared you. In fact, it served as the opposite; it excited you. The danger of being caught under a vampire’s thumb brought you an indescribable rush of adrenaline and excitement and not even a pinch of fear. You wanted the gift they spoke of.

He went by the name Stack, and you’d watched him up and down the bar you worked in every night he made an appearance. At first, you thought he was a bachelor taking advantage of his good looks and suave demeanor to bed as many patrons as possible. But the closer you got to him, the more he gave himself away. The flash of color in his eyes, how he was stronger than your best security guard despite his trimmer frame, the way he never touched the silver martini glasses and insisted on a regular glass. And the dead giveaway, of course, was his lack of reflection in the mirror you passed dragging him off to the bathroom.

His hands cupped your ass, kneading the cheeks apart as your teeth pulled at his earlobe. The bathroom door was only so thick but neither of you cared, cloaked in the haze of sweat, cocaine and Marvin Gaye as you shed whatever layer of clothing you could get your hands on.

As his lips made their way back to yours, it suddenly hit you that his kisses were vintage, that he’d probably travelled the globe kissing hundreds of people in various ways at his heart’s desire. The thought spurred you on, a fresh wave of arousal glossing your panties. “Stack?” The smoky film over his eyes was back as he pulled away to look at you, fangs retreating before you could see them. “Hurry up and fuck me already.”

The tug of a smirk let you know that you were in for a rough ride. “You want it now?”

Stack’s hand snaked beneath your dress to stroke your clit, fingers gliding without protest through your sodden folds. Your head nodded eagerly at his question even though you knew he was reveling in the pleasure of your desperation. His fingers, deft and thicker than yours, pushed experimentally past your entrance, eyes locked on your face as you exhaled a moan of relief. Two digits working in tandem to curl against your sensitive walls, marveling at how wet you were. Your essence dripping from his fingers. It was the most turned on you’d ever been.

It felt too good. His hot breath fanned across your face as he pumped in and out of your gummy walls, licking at your neck like he was playing with his food. All of it was so erotic that it drowned out the music just beyond the door and dulled the way the concrete sink pressed against your tailbone. “You want it but can you take it?”

The low rumble of his voice made your pussy clench around his fingers, eyes screwing shut to bask in how lewd it was. His thumb curved up to massage your clit as his fingers worked you open, and he laughed at the way your hips bucked wildly. “I-I can take it, please, Stack!”

He was so quick to undo his belt that you didn’t even hear it, cock wrapped in his hands as your eyes drifted open sleepily. His dick was just as pretty as him; thick, long, and just the slightest bit curved. You wanted to bend over and lick the single pearl of precum leaking out of his tip, but he was already using it to tease your entrance. A shockwave rippled down your spine as he bucked once, twice, teasing you mercilessly until you grabbed hold of his cock to finally slip him inside of you.

The stretch felt delicious despite his size being so… overwhelming. Your body welcomed him like it was made for him, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out. Your hands clutched to the front of his shirt, breathlessly awaiting his next move.

Stack watched you in amazement, your greed astonishing to him. It’s been years since a human could match his passion, his unquenchable thirst. And here you are in front of him, licking your lips and staring at him like you were ready for him to fuck you dizzy.

His hips undulated slowly, studying your expression meticulously for any signs of discomfort. As if you could read his thoughts, you wrapped your arms around his torso and flicked your hips to match his motion. You could take it.

“You feel that?” Stack drew his hips all the way back until just the tip remained inside of you, sliding forward in one swift move again. With your stomach pressed against his, he could feel his cock reaching unexplored depths with every thrust. “Feel it.”

He brought your hand to hover right near your belly button, pushing down gently enough for you to feel the friction from the outside in. Stack was staking his claim to your body, ensuring that you’d chase the high of this moment for the rest of your life. It made your eyes roll back, pleasure consuming your every thought, nerve and muscle. Your soul was only concerned with tying itself to his, ardently clawing at the nape of his neck to bring his face closer to yours.

His fangs appeared instantaneously, the rush of his hormones making it harder for him to hide his true nature. You were putting weakness on his knees as you taunted him with his sustenance, your blood pumping succulently beneath your skin’s surface. “Do it,” you moaned out, sensing his hesitation. “Bite me.”

You knew. You knew and you didn’t care; or rather, you cared because you knew. It got you going, it was possibly the only reason you seduced him. He knew nothing about you… how could he have assumed he had you all figured out?

Asking him deterred his desire altogether, his interest in your motives deepening as he watched you. He couldn’t acquiesce without knowing more. Even though he was more than happy to reap the benefits, Stack never asked for any of this. And if you, as gorgeous and alluring and enthralling as you were, wanted this willingly…

He needed to know more.

[lvl1l1]

Heyy!! Can i please request LADS guys' reaction when you try to pay 50/50 on a date ^_^

LaDS men when you offer to split the bill

pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x Reader(separate)

content: fluff, suggestiveness in zayne’s

a/n: oh to have a rich boyfriend. working through reqs rn sorry if they’re taking a while TT

Xavier

You and Xavier were out on your first date night in a while.

You’d both been busy with work, spending time together on missions and at home but you started missing going out with him.

Finishing up at your regular hotpot place, you and Xavier were just talking to now.

Before a waiter could come check in, you took your chance,

“Xavier, let’s do half-half.”

You saw the confusion pass on his face,

“Half-half? But we just finished eating, did you want to get dessert? We can do that.”

A laugh escaped you and his face lit up at the sound as well,

“No, I meant let’s pay half-half.”

The man sitting opposite of you furrowed his brows, still not understanding,

“Why? I can pay for us both.”

You shrugged,

“You always do. I feel bad.”

He quickly shut that down, shaking his head,

“Don’t. I like treating you. I want to pay, I’m your boyfriend.”

You smiled at his words, feeling lucky to have such a sweet partner,

“All right. But the offer’s on the table.”

His eyebrows were still drawn together,

“Well, that’s not necessary.”

Before you could say anything else, he got up, heading to the front of the restaurant to pay.

Zayne

Zayne had wrapped up a week of surgeries back to back.

To relax, you two went out to eat.

You were enjoying each other’s company, happy to finally spend some time together.

Once you two were done eating, you told him.

“Zayne, I want to pay half.”

At that, he frowns,

“Please, don’t. I invited you out.”

You cocked your head, looking at him with big eyes,

“You’ve been working so hard, you won’t let me treat you, so at least let me pay half!”

The frown stayed on his face,

“I appreciate everything you do for me but I’m more than happy to pay for you. I insist, actually.”

You flashed him a sweet smile but reached for your purse regardless.

Though, before you could even pull your wallet out, he called a waiter over and handed them his card.

You went to protest but he quickly reached for your hand, intertwining it with his.

“Darling, I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness, but considering how our quality time together is cut short sometimes due to my work, allow me to spend the money I make from my job on you.”

The sincerity reflected in his eyes makes your heart swell.

You nod, defeated, before a mischievous grin comes onto your face,

“Fine then, I’ll just repay you later tonight.”

The tips of his ears turned red and his eyes widened slightly but before he could respond, the waiter returned with his card.

Zayne could barely focus on anything for the rest of the night, you didn’t miss the shy looks he shot you throughout.

Rafayel

A new art exhibition of his work had been published, to celebrate, you two went out tonight.

Rafayel had it all planned out, a candlelight dinner, a lone table on the balcony, just the two of you.

He was having a great time, until you dared to utter the words,

“Let me pay half.”

He looked like you had personally insulted him.

“You’re asking your rich boyfriend who just had a new art exhibition, if you can pay for your own food?”

Letting out an awkward laugh clearly wasn’t the right course of action, as he started again,

“I love you. You know how much I love you. So, why would you ever ask me that. Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”

You scratched your head, unsure of how to respond,

“I didn’t know you were so passionate about this…”

He put his hands on the table, leaning over,

“I’m passionate about providing for my lover.”

You felt surprisingly moved by your boyfriend’s, albeit strange, declaration of affection.

Rafayel sighed,

“I might’ve gotten a bit carried away there at the end but my point stands! Don’t even suggest something like that again. I want to give you nice experiences, that doesn’t include you having to worry about paying.”

You rested your chin on your hand, smiling at him softly,

“Thanks, Rafayel.”

He smiled back at you, his eyes glittering as he looked at you,

“One last thing, if I ever accept that, shoot me on that spot. It has to be a clone, can’t be me.”

He didn’t hide the satisfied look on his face as you laughed.

Sylus

You had been gushing about this new restaurant that had opened near your place.

Sylus had taken you there tonight and it lived up to all your expectations.

Seeing your content expression as you munched on your dessert, left him feeling fulfilled.

You two were engaged in a conversation, before you dropped the bomb on him,

“Sy, let’s split the bill.”

He immediately looked offended,

“Why would we?”

Spoon in mouth, you blinked at him,

“It was my idea to come here, it’s only right.”

His eyes narrowed slightly,

“I brought you here.”

You hummed, still not backing down,

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been paying for everything lately…”

His look of disapproval almost made your lips curl up,

“As I should. Sweetie, what’s the point of having so much money, if not to spend it on you?”

You ate another bite, feeling charmed.

He smirked and you knew he was onto you,

“Also, while I do think it’s sweet you offered, if I’m not mistaken, you didn’t bring your wallet.”

You stilled, spoon midair, before looking up at him, bashful.

You fluttering your eyelashes at him, not answering.

His laugh that sounded like it could buy the whole building brought a cheeky grin to your face.

“You should really try this, it tastes great!”

“Very smooth, kitten.”

Caleb

Caleb finally took his vacation days and you two went on a trip to a nearby town.

It was your last day there and you decided to have a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant.

You were sitting across each other, Caleb was done eating before you, so you made him eat the rest of your food, that you couldn’t finish.

He was listening to you talk with a lovesick look on his face.

You kept yapping until he was almost done eating,

“Alrighty, let’s do 50/50.”

He stopped, eyes flickering up to your face, his smile dropping,

“What do you mean, pips?”

Giggling, you elaborated,

“Let’s split the bill 50/50!”

He squinted at you,

“No.”

You looked taken aback by his blunt response,

“Why not?”

He stacked the plates over one another, before his gaze met yours again,

“For one, I ate half your food. And even if I didn’t, I don’t want you to pay for anything when I’m with you.”

A chuckle left you as you leaned back in your seat,

“You paid for the whole vacation, Caleb. Let me take this one.”

That charming, boyish grin he flashed you caused you to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

He was so good at winning you over,

“I like taking care of you, honey. You’re not paying for anything.”

You sighed,

“You’re too good to me.”

He looked at you, like you had just said something outlandish.

“Yeah, let’s get you three servings of dessert for that. You deserve everything, pipsqueak.”

You whined his name, feeling shy.

He always looked at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to give you the whole world.

[sooniebby]

an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.

The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.

You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.

It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.

Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.

The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.

Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.

Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.

“Hitachikoi”

You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.

Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.

You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.

It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.

“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”

“I only came to see you.”

“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?

The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”

His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.

He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?

“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”

You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”

His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”

“(Name)! Where are you?”

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”

With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.

You… were so fucking screwed.

In more ways than one.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic

I already made a face claim lol.



[vanilleandclove]

how to disappear; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

pittsburgh is roughly 58 square miles, large hospitals in metropolitans are usually 1.2 million square feet. only making ptmc extremely confining with a certain trauma surgeon and senior attending physician in the emergency room especially during hostility.

warnings: emotionally constipated adults, language, talks of children and marriage, semi-medical accuracies (i have several immediate family members in the medical field, this is basically in my regular lexicon), gore adjacent, mentions of past sex, age gap: reader is 30-33, jack is 47-49. word count: 4.1k notes: mdni. call me disorganized, my oc fic is on HOLD, until further notice :3. this is part one of two (?) ask/requests are open!

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“I thought you were working day shift?” Parker asked, your eyes blinked roughly as they adjusted to the bright light of the patient’s board, “What’re you doing stuck down here?”.

“They requested for me to have a change of schedule to be on-call, couldn’t say no to the generous pay raise” you responded, cocking your head slightly to meet eyes with Parker, “Plus night shift always gets the most carnage”.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Parker chuckled, fist meeting your shoulder playfully before she walked off. 

Clipping on your hospital ID was muscle memory, both Heather and Robby referred to as “overworker’s disease”, you saw it as being stuck in the place for several years at a time.

You needed a vacation, sweaty hot sex, vodka, or weed; or maybe just all of those in that order. Your eyes were glossed over from the eyedrops you have administered before leaving Jack’s house, they did good to conceal the hours of crying and bloodshot eyes. 

But Bridget saw through that puffiness and reoccurring sniffle that matched the pout of your lips, she knew you well like you were her own daughter. She knew your breathing patterns were shallow and uneven, the eyebags that became a more pigmented purple, the constant fiddling of your rings. 

She knew you needed a break, a break in bed where you could cry it out and come back renewed with extra hours of sleep and extra takeout. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Bridget inquired, taking off her glasses and tucking them in her scrub undershirt, “You seem out of it”.

Your eyes darted towards her and all you could give her was a nod as you became tight lipped, worried that if you unclench your jaw for a second you’d break. Nevertheless, Bridget smiled and rested her hand on yours, knowing all too well what happened to you. 

What Bridget saw was your hair blown out but tucked up a tortoiseshell claw clip for it to be out of your way. She saw manicured short french tip nails, residue of black eyeliner in your waterline, hints of matte red lipstick that must have been taken off in a rush as it made your lips look as if they were bleeding. She saw gold bracelets of all different textures and patterns, rings stacked beautifully and meticulously, necklaces that would accentuate cleavage with the right dress, diamond earrings that twinkled when moving under the LED lights. 

She saw a woman who had just got stood up. 

“Good evening everybody”.

And she just stumbled upon the reason. 

You closed your eyes and sighed under your breath. 

Luckily being a different specialty department, you weren’t required to be given the gist of speeches by the physicians and nurses. Some may say it due to surgeons being “above”, you say it’s because of different structures in departments- you can learn just as much during rounds in the emergency room as you would post-op, if not, you’ll learn more. Therefore you were able to walk off into the bathroom.

You enjoyed your job, you were grateful for your job that led you to places you never thought you would be. You were grateful for the smiles, the laughter, the songs the patient requested to be played during surgery, the parents or loved ones that would hug you tight, and yes, the gore and carnage. 

You were also grateful that it led you to Abbot. 23, you were fresh out of an internship in Massachusetts, then you wanted a change of scenery. By 26, frequent hookups at your respective places were a casual way to start, end, and continue a week; just in time for your residency to finish and your fellowship to be fast-tracked due your rotations in the emergency department and competency exams. Hookups turned to dating by your 27th birthday, months later, Jack’s house was basically yours too. Now, you’re the attending who’s trying her hardest to hold it all in because a man decided no more to the most constant thing in your chaotic life- in a chaotic profession. 

You had put on a silk dress that flowed perfectly enough to accentuate your curves, you wore lingerie, black heels, and smelt fucking amazing. You shaved, you wore your expensive lotion you could only justify using on special occasions, you wore jewelry you’ve collected over the years and that Jack had given you. You went the whole 9 yards and more. 

“Okay so what is it?” you asked, sighing in defeat and barefooted in the living room, “You don’t want to go out, don’t want to talk about something you know I care about. Fuck Jack, you don’t even look at me when you know this is important”. 

“Sorry I didn’t know dinner reservations were imperative to having a conversation with you” Jack scoffed, stressed and unnerved, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus christ just forget about dinner!” you raised your voice, your throat began to slowly burn, “I don’t care about dinner Jack. I care about being appreciated from my boyfriend when I put on a fucking dress and heels. I care about you walking into that door every morning and kissing me. I care about having sex and ordering fucking pizza” you ranted, your time was almost up as it crept closer to your shift.

“Do you want kids?” he blurted.

“What?”.

“Do. you. want kids?”.

You blinked in confusion, swallowing whatever you had planned to say and again to collect what he had just proposed. “I would like to have kids but with my job and yours, that seems unlikely. I don’t mind not having them”. 

“There was a positive test in the trash two weeks ago that you didn’t think to tell me about” he cleared his throat. 

Your brows furrowed, “It was a false positive, Heather did a work up with full labs for me” you looked to the ground not noting that it would’ve also been nice for him to know both of those things. “If a pregnancy test is sending you to avoid me like the plague; we have a bigger issue here Jack”. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that you were afraid you were pregnant that you told Collins before me”. 

“Do you think I’m punishing you for withholding information that was irrelevant to me after a day?” you were shocked almost, still confused at the hostility, “I wasn’t afraid of being pregnant, I was afraid of false hope”.

“I don’t want kids, that’s just not something I see in my future”.

“Our future” your voice began to crack more and more. Kids weren’t a dealbreaker by any means, the way Jack worded it to be something exclusionary in regards to you is what broke you. “I need you to tell me if this is what’s causing you fucking hurt me”. 

“It’s not- I just think we have a misconstrued view on the future of this” he pointed to both of you back and forth. 

“Jack forget about the sheer possibility of kids, why are you being distant?” you took a step closer as he took a step back, the action only shattering your heart more, the tears began to flow as you straightened your back, “What about marriage?”.

“Same as kids”.

You nodded, looking away from him, “I’m not going to change your opinions about either of those, I’m not going to try”. You inhaled before a sob erupted from your throat, “I have to be able to want those things without feeling like you’re going to walk away. God, you never once spoke about this before so why now? Why all of the sudden vows and kids are a dealbreaker when- if I remember this correctly- the past year you’ve been asking for baby names and what rings I would like? Was it just for show? Was I just for show?”.

“Of course you weren't,” he sighed yet again, his eyes piercing yours, “You’re you, I guarantee you’ll find someone else who wants both of those”. 

“I don’t want someone else Jack” you whispered, one tone louder and you’ll be a wreck in front of him. 

Silence creeped over the room and nothing but the shudder of your breath filled the room, “I guess this isn’t working” his own voice cracked as if his mind betrayed his actions. With that, years of your heart shattered.

“I guess not”. 

Jack was the same guy who held your legs as they rested on his during football games. The guy who tied the strings of dresses and kissed your shoulder, who stared in awe while you did your makeup, baked and cooked with you, danced to his best effort with you. Watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and ‘House of the Dragon’ with you every sunday without fail, not shy of commentary. 

He would fix your hair after sex, clean you up in the en-suite with warm water, would make your toes curl around his waist as an orgasm washed over you, would coax another orgasm out of you. He would massage your clit, knew exactly where your g-spot sat, made your breath hitch and your eyes roll back. He never pressured, only asked a near sixty times if you were okay and comfortable. He would never degrade you even if asked, the most he’d do would be spitting in your mouth and lightly choking you. Wasn’t shy about having his dog tags pulled or you wearing them, loved the twinkle in your eye every time his cock grazed the right spot. The man was a dog. If you forgot an undershirt under your scrubs, his cock would strain from the veins coating your breasts, the slightest graze would send him on a frenzy when you’d get home if both of you were up for it, loved the lingerie just as much as he loved you in pajamas and a worn out shirt from college. 

The same guy that would squeeze the back of your neck to relieve your worries, text you mid-shift about your wedgie and would fix said wedgie in passing, would wash your hair and body. Would watch every movie and TV show with a thousand questions, stare idly at you during every get-together as you mingled on your own with Heather. Every Fourth of July he spent with you, he was at ease, not jumpy or had his heart racing- you thanked therapy, he thanked you. 

He’d stand in front of you and be the same guy during company basketball and baseball games that coached you on the sidelines, guided your arm, gave you water. You wanted to marry him, your parents always said when you do get married, it should be with someone like him if not him. You wanted rings, his and her matching towels, garter tosses and to take off his suit in the same night. He knew that, hell the whole emergency department was well aware of your dream wedding that changed every now and then.

Now you stand there beneath yourself because that is all gone on a random Wednesday. Didn’t wait for the weekend for it to settle, for hell to freeze over. While you went crazy thinking the worst, you had a job to do, and it was barely August. 

Luckily, new staff and medical students were reserved for day shift, meaning you were secretly praying for both Robby and Collins sake. 

“We have a male MVC victim, 10 minutes out, Abbot wanted you on standby” Parker opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with your meltdown, “You okay? Want water or coffee?”.

You shook your head only for her to fully allow herself in, “You and I both know the way you’re crying is going to lead you to dehydrate” she continued, “What happened?”.

“We broke up” you responded, curt and without remorse, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Okay, but just know you can always go home”. 

“He’s home”.

You spent two minutes in there trying to gain your composure, worried that the MVC wouldn’t get the most accurate and resourceful amount of care with you like this. Splashing water against your face before exiting and being greeted with the beaming emergency department lights. 

You checked up on three different patients, smiling and asking if they were comfortable and okay with waiting just in case the MVC took up more time than usual. As you left the last, the MVC arrived and both you and Abbot occupied opposite sides of the gurney. 

The EMTs were able to stabilize him as much as they could, “Breath sounds are good so far a little too crackly but acceptable, there’s rigidity in his abdomen I need an chest scan to confirm bruising- I’ll call they always fast track me” you told Jack as you approached the trauma room, grabbing the phone as he took over, “Hey it’s Doctor L/n, I need a chest CT for a MVC victim, his abdomen is rigid and slightly distended with crackly breathing. No- I need you to take me up now, we’re already in a trauma room- okay, thank you see you there”. 

Turning back to Jack, evening out the creases in your navy scrubs, “They’ll take him now, I’ll take him up” you whispered, grabbing a hold of the gurney from the bottom, “Can you open the doors?” you asked, “Get Walsh for me too, if it’s something with his abdomen I shouldn’t do exploratory”. 

“You don’t only do exploratory surgery Y/n” Jack posed the statement as if you were undermining yourself for Walsh to be the scalpel junkie this shift.

“I know, Walsh is still learning the ways of being an attending, if anything I’m making sure she’s equipped to be in my stead when I’m not here” you argued back only for the MVC victim to regain his consciousness, “I know what I’m doing Doctor Abbot”.

“This morning it was babe, by the afternoon it was Jack, now it’s Doctor Abbot?” he queried, as if the whole ‘I guess this isn’t working’ bit was a skit. 

“Last time I checked this wasn’t-“ you looked down to the gurney to see a conscious man with a smile on his face, “Good evening sir, I’m Doctor L/n, you’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, I will be taking you up to CT now” you feigned a smile and eyed Jack, he knew that look.

The ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look. 

“You’re in good hands sir” Jack waved off. 

The elevator ride was calming, the tension in the trauma was thick enough to cut with a knife. You learned his name was Raymond Orser, he had a wife and a daughter, served a couple tours in the military, his sister lived in Pittsburgh while he lived in Philly. 

“So, what was the deal between you and salt and pepper?” Raymond asked, his breathing less labored as you both exited out of the elevator.

“Salt and pepper? Doctor Abbot?”.

“Or babe whichever you prefer” Raymomd joked, “Must’ve been a tough fight, my wife and I were the poster board for marital arguments about silly things- one time after my daughter was born we argued about the way the cereal box closed”. 

“He’s not my husband Mr. Orser, technically he’s just a colleague” you told him. Eyeing around you to see who was there, “We dated for 6 years today, it’s our anniversary, was supposed to wine and dine him before our shift but…”.

“Ah. You know, I’m only 39. I’ve spent a great deal of it loving my wife before I had even met her." You made a face that exuded confusion, “I know you’re looking at me crazy, but you just know. When’d you meet Doctor Abbot?”.

“When I was 23, about to be 24, he was also relatively new; he beat me by 3 years. Didn’t start dating until I was 27 and he was 41” you confessed, “What about you huh? How old is your daughter?”.

“She’s seven, had her after I got discharged. My wife and I had a shotgun wedding, very intimate”.

“Okay, we are just about to go into CT, I’ll be on the imaging side, you’re going to feel a little fluid in your IV, it’s to highlight and pinpoint what’s going on internally. I need to know if there’s any metal on you like jewelry below or above the waistline”.

“No, just my wedding ring”.

“That’s fine, this arm is going to stay up away from the imaging zone for the ‘highlighting fluid’, you’re going to feel a bit warm throughout your body, completely normal. If you feel nauseated it’s also pretty normal, we keep a wastebasket on standby so no worries” you clarified, giving him a smile before handing him off to the nurses. 

Going into the radiology room, both the radiologist and technician glanced over to you, “Good evening” you greeted, “His abdomen was rigid and slightly distended, did Foreman tell either of you?”.

They both nodded, putting on their glasses and administering the contrast fluid. “Any plans for the morning L/n? You and Abbot are celebrating your anniversary today, no?” Jackie the radiologist asked, her hand not leaving the mouse and her eyes leaving the desktop.

You shuddered under your breath, inhaling deeply, “Yeah, might just stay in today”.

As the scans progressed one thing became clearer, there was a bleed in Raymond’s organs, non-septic, but still worrisome. You immediately grabbed the intercom mic, “Okay Ray, the nurses are going to get you settled back downstairs for a work up, I’ll go over your scans with Doctor Abbot”.

Turning to the left you grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed for the emergency department, “Hi Bridget, I’m sending Orser down, the MVC victim. He has a rib fracture that's causing internal bleeding, a tension pneumo but his breathing sounds were clear- lightly shallow” you cleared your throat, “Tell Abbot to do a finger thoracostomy, I’ll meet him down there”.

Afterwards you phoned the surgical wing, “Good evening, I need an OR available on standby, I have a MVC victim with a tension pneumothorax and internal bleeding”.

Some days cardio and general hogged the ORs, trauma and the emergency department always had an OR prepped in the morning shifts. Gloria liked to boast about her surgical teams, how each specialty had their own set OR.

Heading down to the emergency room, it was less chaotic on the surface- the waiting room said otherwise. Every room was filled minus the trauma rooms, the hallway had spillover, and curtains were drawn. You decided to take your leave to peds, being greeted with a little girl with a rattling cough.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor L/n, who is this princess?” you greeted, snapping on your gloves.

“Your scrubs are different” the girl mentioned mid cough.

“Sorry, this is Amanda, she’s been having this ugly cough for two weeks, she woke up choking on phlegm” a woman spoke up, “I’m her aunt, her mom’s on her way”.

“Ah okay, well, Amanda, my scrubs are different because I’m a surgeon here. Don’t worry, you’re not a surgical case, I just help down here” you clarified, putting your stethoscope on her chest, “Did she cough up phlegm, if so what color?”.

“It was brown, though in the car she had a cough attack and I swear I saw red”. 

“Any history of asthma? Was she around any strong fumes?” you asked, “Amanda can you give me two big inhales and exhales?” you requested, putting your stethoscope on the girl’s back. As she inhaled and exhaled, all you heard was rattling.

“My sister- her mom has asthma, nothing too serious, she self carries though. Mandy got sick last week, her fever was moderate but she sweated a lot of it off during her sleep”. 

You nodded, putting your stethoscope back around your neck, “I’m going to order a chest x-ray, from the sounds of it, Mandy here has acute bronchitis, probably from a viral infection that went unnoticed” you smiled to them both, “Is she allergic to paracetamol or ibuprofen?”.

“No, just soy”.

“Perfect, due to her age, I’ll prescribe extra strength Tylenol and an albuterol inhaler, two puffs about 5 seconds apart when needed to stabilize your lungs sweetie” you told her aunt, walking out to tell Bridget for an x-ray on Amanda. 

“Abbot’s asking for you in south 14” Bridget said as you walked off, all you gave was a nod.

Opening the door and being met with a scene you would not have guessed to stumble upon out of the confines of your home. “Bridget said you wanted to see me?”.

“I’m not a prideful man” he sighed, you moved closer to the hospital bed he sat on, his prosthetic beside him, he was rubbing a cream on his stump- it smelt like eucalyptus. Jack never complained of phantom limb pain, though his hip would hurt every now and then. “But I do know that I am self-conscious”.

You remained silent, allowing Jack to speak. You did most of the talking earlier, now, it’s his turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, weddings require some level of dancing that I just can’t put aside that difference to give to you- and I want to, I can’t shake that feeling” he sucked in a deep breath, “There are days where I have coax myself off the ledge, today being one of them”.

“Jack I-” you sighed in disbelief, “I don’t care about those things- ever- you’re not taking away anything by us not having kids or not getting married-”.

“You want those things”.

“There was a point in my life where I wanted you, one thing I know for certain, I never regretted it. Though I would’ve regretted not doing anything, you gave me the best sex of my life” you joked lightly, “If loving you and being with you means I don’t get a wedding or kids, then I’m okay with that. Though, you would be one hell of dilf”.

He chuckled at the comment, “Shit, I’d be in my 60s by the time the kid was in high school”. 

“Still my sexy man” you commented, “I love you okay? But we have a job to get to and a vet who is keen on you”.

“Orser?” Jack questioned as he stood up with your assistance, popping his prosthetic back into place. You nodded, giving him a longing look, “I can’t kiss you- wouldn’t be able to stop”.

“Yeah yeah, happy anniversary cowboy” you smiled, feeling your phone vibrate with a page to the OR, “Shit, emergency surgery”.

“I love you cowgirl” Jack spoke up as you ran off. It was already 4:30 in the morning, the heat kept piling up. 

The surgery was needed for a thoracotomy on a 67 year old who took a fall down her stairs which caused a cardiac tamponade, it took 2 hours and 40 minutes to repair, drain and control her hemorrhage. Caught early, it took less time than usual. You reeked of pungent acid with a hint of metal from the blood, afraid it was stuck in your hair.

Luckily your shift was over 10 minutes ago, you gathered your things and looked around for Jack, being greeted with Heather and Frank.

“Dana, have you seen Jack? Good morning to you all” you stretched, looking around to see no sight of Jack or Robby.

“Up on the roof with Robby”.

“Jesus, the midlife crisis twins” Frank joked under his breath, only to be met with the dirty looks of you and Heather.

“When he comes down tell him I’m in the truck” you sighed, tapping on the desk before letting your hair down from the clip that has held up your hair through blood and way too many body fluids.

dividers by @cafekitsune