#How to attract love remedies

[theastrotree]

Lal Kitab Remedies to Increase Love in Relationship

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[iholdwhatican]

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

read part 2 here!

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right?��

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 

God, what the hell was wrong with you? 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 

God, you needed a cigarette. 

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 

You needed another drink. Or ten. 

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 

“More than anything else in this world.” 

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 

It made something flip in your stomach. 

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 

You really, really fucking liked this. 

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 

It was unbelievably hot. 

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

That's What Friends Are For- E.M.

I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx

You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.

Part 2

Masterlist

TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)

Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie

Word Count- 4,802

(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)

It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”  

While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?  

Wrong. 

Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.  

Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own... 

“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down. 

“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious... 

“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”  

You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank. 

Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly. 

“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.  

The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck. 

“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words. 

“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”  

Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.  

“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything. 

You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,” 

Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes. 

You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”  

Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.  

“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.  

You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows. 

“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains. 

“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. 

“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.  

“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body. 

“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you. 

“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice. 

“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.  

“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips. 

It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.  

Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away. 

“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.  

“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous. 

“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress. 

When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes. 

With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.  

Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops. 

“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back. 

“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest. 

“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again. 

“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours. 

“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.  

His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”  

The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling. 

“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin. 

When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second. 

“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other. 

Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close. 

“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.  

Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.  

You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.  

“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time. 

Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm. 

“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much... 

“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush. 

Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?” 

“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body. 

“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?” 

This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”  

Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest. 

Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to. 

You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want. 

[canichangemyblogname]

Actually, no. The shippers in the 911 fandom who primarily complain about Tommy and his past don't actually care about Tommy's past or his actions that contributed to the previous toxic workplace environment and harassment at the 118. Not everything is about a fucking ship, believe it or not, yet the only time they bring up his behavior is in relation to shipping. And because the only time they bring up a valid critique of Tommy's character is during shipping "discourse," I'm convinced it's not brought forth in good faith. Finding a way to tie everything to a ship—especially things like racism and misogyny—is cheap and tasteless. Not everything is about "shipping;" shut up about the shipping.

I don't think they actually want to discuss how white queers contribute to the marginalization of others, including other queer people, by weaponizing the patriarchy and/or white supremacy in their favor because so many of them are fellow white queers themselves. They don't care about how Tommy inadvertently, because of his past, provides a realistic portrayal of how white queers divide or hurt the larger community because of an inability to find solidarity with people of a different background, culture, or race (especially if it would "inconvenience" them or if it does not directly benefit them, like Chim saving Tommy's life). White people would rather choose misery and isolation over standing with or up for non-white people. White people are generally not willing to put in the work to build community; they'd rather contribute to the system or fly under the radar to avoid being shunned by the structures they, and the Ol' Boys Club, benefit from, like white supremacy or the patriarchy. Most white queers would rather be complaisant, complacent, and complicit. It's the white queer's adherence to oppressive systems that divide the community, not people's calls to tear those systems down. And it's only the white queer who can change their perspective on this.

Tommy only has himself to blame for his jealousy and alienation from a supportive and familial community, and only he can take the steps to ameliorate the situation. Tommy was an absolute fucking dick to Chim and Hen, and that has had long-term consequences on his life. Only he can correct for his behavior. He contributed to a toxic work environment, referring to Chim as a Chinese takeout delivery man, actively participating in Chim's hazing, and telling Chim that he did not like the man (mostly because he didn't know him). He would later call Hen "bitchy," and the men of the 118 would leave the "domestic work" to her as they did Chim, actively contributing to her hazing. He did not (verbally) stand up for her, iced her out, and also contributed to a homophobic work culture that made same-sex attraction the butt of jokes. He contributed to this toxic culture to fly under the radar, and that directly hurt people he should have extended a hand to.

Unfortunately for most of the fandom, this is, ultimately, a show that loves stories about redemption and resolution. And there is actual, explicit (meaning, non-subtextual) evidence that Tommy has put in some work to remedy what he did and who he was (including being able to 1.] own up to his past actions, 2.] understand how he hurt others, 3.] recognize why he did what he did and how that it is an explanation, not an excuse, and 4.] begin to make amends or rectify the situation, like reporting Gerrard and changing his mind about Hen and Chim). Hen and Chim would not have invited him for drinks regularly if they thought he was "irredeemable." The 118 would not have thrown him a going away party if they disliked him. Chim would not call in favors from Tommy on more than one occasion or even describe him as "so cool" if they weren't—well—cool. Eddie wouldn't enjoy ring-side fights and basketball games with Tommy if he didn't enjoy the man's company. Tommy also clearly refers to the type of man he was in the past tense, implying change over time. It can be argued that he has not put in enough work, but that's not what's being argued. We're getting bad faith arguments that Hen, Chim, and Eddie hate Tommy or bad faith arguments where Tommy's past actions are only brought forth as some sort of "gotcha" when a fan prefers canon representation over homophobic fan fiction tropes. You don't have to like Tommy, but making up non-textual reasons to dislike him is absurd.

Tommy, as a character in a narrative, provides a lesson for the general audience (GA), the majority of whom are white. It's not just important to see queer people on screen; it's important to see white people learn and change and admit they were wrong. It's also important that the show—well—shows the GA that whiteness and man-ness affect people's perception, position, and treatment. Tommy isn't just a gay man; he is a white gay man, and this has had a direct impact on how he navigates the world and how the world interacts with him. Gerrard treats men like Sal and Tommy differently than men like Chim or women like Hen, and staying in Gerrard's good graces—like the good graces of oppressive power structures—requires one to conform to a very narrow definition of a "real man," like being straight, white, palatable (like... not kinky, not risqué, not queer, all the things the fandom seems to actually hate Tommy for), and not helping oust regressive figures from positions of authority for the way they treat your coworkers. The audience got to see how Tommy went from being the prodigal son to being openly mocked by men like Gerrard. And it's important to show the GA that someone can and will be happier if they go against the grain and that admiration from men like Gerrard means very little in the grand scheme. Tommy is happier now after having been "rebuked" by men like Gerrard than he was when he strove for their praise and acceptance.

It's also important to show that men like Gerrard and his beliefs belong in the past, even though they exist in the present. This is a network TV show. A non-zero number of men like Gerrard catch this show weekly. It is still important to show that Gerrard is not the "type" of man anyone should aspire to be. His beliefs and actions are not commendable, and the show is very heavy-handed about this. The show is going to once again compare Gerrard ("bad captain") and Bobby ("good captain") to show how Bobby has created a good legacy at the 118. It began this parallel with Bobby Begins Again, continued to reinforce Bobby's good legacy in Buck's coma arc, and then revisited how Bobby has had a positive influence on the lives of the 118 in his season 7 montage. Now, the show is going to compare and contrast him and Gerrard to reinforce how important Bobby is to those around him. The show will also continue its inadvertent parallels between Buck and Tommy, showing how Buck is a different man under similar circumstances because he has had good influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim) in his life. Buck and Eddie's relationship was shaping up to be very similar to Tommy and Chim's relationship: oppositional because of one-sided disregard and dislike, but it didn't because they had a good influence: Bobby (given the rather... fucked timeline, Tommy was likely newer to the 118 when Chim joined and, like Buck, his hostility and posturing were also likely influenced by insecurity and a desire to secure his position at the table).

Most unfortunately for many, the show is also going to show how Tommy has changed due to the same influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim). They wouldn't have re-introduced both Tommy and Gerrard and mentioned their dynamic on more than one occasion if they weren't going to do something with that. Season 7 set up Tommy's upcoming arc very nicely. He knows the man he was, he knows the man who shaped him into that, and he knows how and why that was wrong. We'll get Tommy confronting his obvious daddy issues, jealousy, and desire for community (and why he didn't get a family-like dynamic at the 118, re: Gerrard *and* Tommy's own behavior). Tommy has been explicit about this, literally telling Buck that he envies the relationship the people at the 118 have and mentioning that he was not a good person, and this played a part in why he didn't have the same rapport.

9-1-1 is not a perfect show, but it does reflect some of the positive changes of our time. It's important to see representations of comp-het—like Buck, Tommy, and Michael—and how it negatively impacts people's character or relationships, and then how they—the character—can amend that. It's important to see stories that depict how silence is complicity and how refusing to be silent—as Hen refused to be—makes change and changes minds. It's important that the show reminds the audience that Hen is a black lesbian and that this has impacted how people see her and treat her, but that she is just as capable, if not more so. This includes men like Chim. Because I see nearly none of the people who "critique" Tommy in the name of "shipping" ever bring up how Chim has leaned on the patriarchy for support and a position at the table. He may have been the kindest to Hen, but he was by no means normal about women. And it is important to see how non-white men benefit from the patriarchy even as they are victimized by white supremacy. It's also important that the show shows the GA that non-white men are not affected by white supremacy equally, as Michael and Harry have had discussions about blackness and police brutality, a conversation that Chim is never going to have to have with his children, but that doesn't mean that Chim won't have to one day have a discussion with Jee-Yun about how and why some people treat her differently.

But the fandom approaches everything in a very... Catholic way. They don't approach this from the view that people can change and should be pushed to change; rather, they shun people like they've been marked by original sin. The structures we live under have deeply affected each and every one of our worldviews. "You are not immune to the propaganda" includes your personal philosophies and ideologies as well as the things you were taught since you were a child, consciously and "subconsciously." But, people would rather condemn everyone else as "irredeemable" than look critically at their own behavior out of fear of being "one of the bad ones." They'd rather *not* accept the fact that everyone has learning and changing to do as that would reflect upon them, too. This leads to being very resistant to being told that you're mistaken, you've hurt others, or that your behavior and beliefs contribute to repressive, dangerous, or toxic ideas (and we've seen a lot of that; y'all do not create safe online spaces). This leads to a lack of personal change as well as a lack of change at the interpersonal level because rather than teach or challenge, they stick up their nose and turn the other way. "Their barbaric bigotry; my enlightened neglect."

So, really, they've learned nothing from a character like Tommy.

[darthannie]

thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.

It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 

“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”

They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 

You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 

”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 

“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 

“So what’s the problem”, they asked.

You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"

They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 

You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 

His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.

She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 

“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”

“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 

You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 

Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 

Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.

You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.

You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 

You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 

You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.

He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”

He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 

Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 

“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 

“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.

“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 

You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”

You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”

He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 

“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  

“How’s seven?, he asked.

“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.

“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 

Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 

When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”

“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  

As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.

You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 

“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”

He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 

“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 

“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”

“About what?”, he pushed.

“About… seeing you.”

“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 

“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.

You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”

“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.

“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”

Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 

“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 

You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 

He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.

“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 

You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?

Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 

“You always get this wet for your Professor?”

“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 

“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 

 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”

“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  

He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”

“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 

He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 

“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 

“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”

His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.

And you did.

It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 

“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 

“Where do you want it.”, he asked.

“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“

“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 

You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”

And he did.

He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 

He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.

Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.

“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”

[tinietaehyun]

INVITE ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader] [One shot]

Pairing: Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader

Genres: Romance, supernatural, fantasy, fluff, thriller.

Contains: suggestive themes, mentions of biting, blood, bleeding, injury, asphyxiation, profanity, a smidge of forbidden!love, romance.

Links: Masterlist

Note: Buckle up it’s a long one folks!

Summary: In your village, a rather handsome man captures your gaze. He truly does look as though he fell from the heavens above with his flawless face and body - something that had garnered quite the bit of attention from everyone in the village.

Though for some reason, you felt as though recently you had been seeing the mysteriously beautiful man more often, not only that, but he was in fact sharing glances, even smirking at you leaving you nothing but flustered. As lovely as all this is….

The last thing you expect is to find this man bleeding half to death at your door in the dead of night. Though unlike a victim, his eyes held the gleam of a predator instead. What had you gotten yourself into inviting him in?

There he is again. His brown, murky irises meet yours once more. A shiver runs down your spine at his gaze. Oh, how pretty he was. His luscious lips form a smirk, the same one he seemed to be giving you for the last few days, one so coy, borderline flirtatious. It had your heart palpitating faster than it should.

Your eyes flicker to the passer-by’s, everyone noticed his mysterious beauty, all glancing as they walked past, all enamoured by his alluring appearance. A group of women catches your sight, they seemed to make it their hobby to capture a glimpse of the handsome man every morning.

He seemed to have the entire village under his spell, then again, with the way he looked, you weren’t surprised. The brown haired male almost looked as though he were of noble descent. From whatever rumours you heard, you found that he was actually an orphan who had recently moved in from another town. Though, this mysterious figure kept mostly to himself; not much information was known about him. It had you writhing in curiosity.

His dark brown locks fall to the base of his neck in a messy but attractive style complimenting his chic and sharp features. The man seemed to always wear some variation of a loose cotton top tucked into his trousers with laced up boots. A somewhat elegant ensemble, for someone amongst the commoners here. His sharp eyes, pointed and sharp nose and rosy, luscious lips, what was there not perfect about him? No wonder had the envious stares of men and a gaggle of women behind him.

His gaze meets your again sending a flush to your cheeks and you helplessly fumble turning the sign on your door to “Open.” Damn him! He smirks momentarily before resuming his morning walk. You always admired him, but in no way were you desperate enough to approach! Goodness knows how high his ego must be, he can’t possibly be ignorant to the amount of attention he gets! The last thing you needed was a pompous, self-absorbed customer or suitor! For now, you’d settle for merely observing the pretty boy from afar; who knows how many hearts he’s broken looking like that?

With a nonchalant hum, you enter your shop and begin rearranging the pots containing your various powdered remedies and peering at your to-do list. Being a herbalist, it isn’t the most exciting job but it allows you to live somewhat comfortably. After all, the human body is frail, people are always sick. People always came to you for various cures, treatments and remedies for their sicknesses and maladies. You always felt a sense of satisfaction helping people, aside from the profit of course, but just seeing the same people who were once so frail and weak, come and thank you a few months later, it truly did warm your heart.

You continue to organise your display before returning behind to your station where you made your various creations - consisting of different potions, powders, concoctions and pastes, all made with herbs and plants. It was always quite tiresome to fetch such rare herbs and plants, that’s what you did initially, taking days off just to get ingredients but thankfully you were now well off enough to afford a mercenary to collect ingredients for you on a monthly basis. It took a lot of risk and pressure off your shoulders.

Sighing, your mind drift backs to him. Why was he so damn handsome? It was unfair! Why was he always looking at you, exchanging glances, coy smiles, peering at your shop. What was his game?

Shaking your head, you resume pounding the mortar and pestle in hand, you had to focus. You had a business to run and work to do. He’d probably grow tired and find some other face to gaze at. He probably already has a queue of suitors; pointless of you to waste your time on him, really. Yet, his ambiguity had you yearning to learn more. You’d have to ask around once more when you had time.

The next day arrives, you open up your shop again; your body moving by a well-polished routine. Flipping the sign over, writing your offers for the day on the board outside, rearranging your display, wiping down the counter and making a list of ingredients to purchase and readying orders. It was a life that was supposedly satisfying, albeit dull for those who saw you.

Your ears perk as you hear the door open with a creak and a customer come in; a dreary expression. “Oh it’s you? I have your order prepared. It’s the powder, I’ve written a slip about the dosage and it should definitely help with your sleeplessness.” It had a mixture of Chamomile, Valerian Root and Passion flower; a potent combination in which a very small dosage should be mixed with water.

The client wearily smiles haphazardly placing the gold coins down and you slide them into your hand with a smile, “Thank you. Don’t hesitate to visit again, if there’s any issues or want another batch!” Before you could ease up; another customer shoves past the previous one as they exit with a panicked expression, “Bandages, cloth, something strong to wake someone up! Quick!”

Your lips part in shock, “Sir? What- what’s the matter?” The man snaps, “Just give me the damn things I need.” Glaring, you begin collecting some roll of linen bandages, and ragged cloth. “What do you mean wake someone up? I assume they’re unconscious, from what though? I need the cause to determine the medication.” The man groans, “I- I don’t know okay, she seems pale, looks like she lost a lot of blood. Haven’t you heard?”

You stiffen, “What? Blood loss?” Your hands immediately drift to a particular bottle with a scent and taste strong enough to wake someone up from an unconscious slumber and leave an unfortunately wild aftertaste for days. Gathering the items, you place them on the counter, calculating the total.

“Yes, the poor girl is as white as snow and frail as paper. There’s two puncture wounds on her neck and shoulders; bitten…” The man shudders.

…Bitten? A vampire? Surely not. You’ve heard of such things up in the North, a few folk tales here and there to scare the children from not playing outside too late or wandering off. Of course, you knew they existed, after all, there were many cases of such things. But here? In your quaint little village of peace and quiet?

That was the last thing you wanted!

“A vampire? In our village?” You write down the usage on the slip as the man slams down the coins on the counter. He grumbles, “Don’t know and don’t want to find out. Whatever it is, I want my niece to be healthy again! I told her not to go out so late! Did she listen? No, ‘course she didn’t!”

Frowning, you watch as he shoves the items into his satchel and rushes off. Such a large incident, you wonder when it happened, must have been last night. It must be the talk of the town, then again, you weren’t ever really the one to gossip.

Vampires, truly a fascinating enigma of supernatural phenomena. Humans but they’re bloodsuckers. Truly the most charming and alluring. Perhaps even romanticised in most of the novels you had read, though the moment there was a mention of one in a town or village it had everyone running to their church in desperate prayer.

With a sigh, well, you suppose it’d do you good to close the shop before the sun sets and the streets get too empty. You weren’t exactly planning to be the next meal, per se. As curious as you were, you weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of getting drained, after all, you had people to heal and save.

The day passes on remarkably dull with a few hints of chatter and murmur regarding the incident that manages to fall on your ears. They had notified the incident to the church and the village head. Though, you doubt they’d do anything except tell people to stay indoors.

“He’s so dreamy, she’s so lucky. To be carried in his arms, he’s just as chivalrous as he looks,” a woman who walks past your shop swoons to her friend. “Beomgyu truly is a Prince Charming in disguise, oh I find his mysterious and reserved nature so attractive, hiding such a warm heart under that cold exterior. I heard he carried her all the way to the nearest clinic at sunrise. If it weren’t for him, she’d be dead!”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but find the ordeal amusing. Huh, Beomgyu. That was his name. He found the victim unconscious and brought her to the nearest clinic, so what? Isn’t that what any morally-aligned human should be doing? A slight wave of relief hits you, you were wondering what you’d actually do in such a situation, if he had brought her to your clinic. Perhaps, your competitor clinics could gain a point this time. You weren’t exactly eager to be involved with such things, then again, you were also curious about these beings.

Another few days, another victim, this time a man, unfortunately for you, he was brought into your shop, unconscious and barely alive. The sight of puncture wounds in person made you shiver. Indeed, it was the work of a vampire. Someone in your town had a lot of explaining to do. Until then, the villagers, including yourself, were sitting ducks waiting to be feasted on.

Another week, another woman, bit but still alive. You noticed a commonality, they were all left alive, but weak, having lost a lot of blood. A large contradiction to what you’ve heard as vampires who drain their victims dry leaving them a hollow husk of skin. All of them couldn’t remember the perpetrator (how convenient), then again, you suppose that vampiric powers were best not questioned. So you treated her as best as you could.

You hadn’t expected to get so much income in the last few weeks, as morbid a thought that was. You were just glad no one had died. The last few weeks had generated a fear, a buzz amongst the people. Initially you hadn’t cared much, but with the growing number and regularity of incidents, you felt uneasy, anxious even. Would you be next? The village was on high alert.

You flip over the sign to “Open�� as usual and wipe the door clean from the dust gathering on it. Your breath hitches, right on cue. There he was. His walks with grace, the women slowing their paces to gaze at him in awe. His brown locks bounce and sway in the breeze; like the other times, his eyes meet yours. You couldn’t move, almost transfixed on his gorgeously sharp eyes.

Everyday, he managed to meet your gaze. Give you that irritatingly sly little smirk, or smile and then walk by as if nothing occurred. Your heart pounds viciously as you force yourself to tear your gaze away. Did he know what he was doing to you?

Oddly enough, the following week, nothing happened. With such high expectations, you found your shop as dry as before, the people almost too afraid to relax. What happened? Did the vampire get caught? Decide they got bored?

You’d heard the rumours, Beomgyu was being suspected. Though his loyal fans defended him to no end, particularly since he often visited the victims bearing care items, or even offering sweet words of sympathy. Half adored him, half suspected him. Hell, you weren’t sure if all the men were just accusing him merely to get him kicked out of the village for their own greedy jealousy. After all, he garnered a lot of attention being as pretty as he was.

Either way, you stayed out of the chaos. You didn’t know what to think; he seemed to mind his business, you saw him everyday, in the morning. You find it hard to believe, in fact; you knew he’d be going to a tavern where he works at (purely because of the indescribably long queue out of it during the day). You don’t know, with a frustrated sigh, oh whatever! You had your shop to run. Why were you scrambling your brain as to whether you damned crush was a vampire or not?

The evening arrives and with the last of your medicines and remedies prepared for tomorrow; you flip the sign to “Closed,” before taking your keys and locking up the door and drawing the ragged curtains. Huh, you should probably replace those.

As the sun sets, you begin lighting the candles around the shop creating a dim hue of orange with wavering shadows that you always sought comfort in. You peer outside seeing the other houses and shops do the same; a warm glow illuminates onto the street. You know by nightfall, it would be pitch black. Not a single soul would dare wonder (particularly at this time!)

Heading up the rickety stairs, you find yourself in your home which rests atop your shop on the first floor. It wasn’t much, but enough to live comfortably albeit its small size and cramped nature. You perform your nightly routine after having dinner as you feel the vines of exhaustion twist around you. Lying down, a fatigued sigh hits you, it always took you awhile to finally get to sleep. Your mind always rummages through things at this particular time, irritatingly enough. After awhile, your eyelids flutter closed under the weight of sleep and you drift off to the land of dreams and delusions.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You shift in your bed uncomfortably, eyes still closed.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes slam open as you sit up abruptly, heart pounding. Nervousness fills within you to the brim. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Someone was knocking on your shop door. Oh absolutely not!

The knocks become more urgent and you hear a muffled cry. Fear squeezes you like a vice. With trembling legs, you walk forward peering out through the little gap in your curtains down below seeing a man hunched over, keeping one arm against the wall to keep himself standing. What the hell?

In the dark and with him hunched over, you couldn’t see his face clearly yet instinct filled you with a sense of familiarity. You freeze as the man’s head suddenly snaps up and you squeak, stumbling back onto the floor to avoid being spotted. Damn it! Why were you such a coward?

Was he injured? Was…it the vampire you’d been hearing about? His clothes looked familiar and that messy wolffish haircut. Surely not…were you hallucinating?

Taking a small, oil-lit lantern, you creep down the stairs, not making a single noise and settle on the first few steps, trying to decipher what they were saying.

“…Help, please…, I’m going-ah, to die at th-this rate. H-He’ll be back, please- I don’t want to die. Please- wake up ah-fuck it hurts!” The pained grunts and groans make your heart twist and churn. Your feet itch to go, you never wished to leave anyone untreated especially when injured.

“Please, I hope you’re awake. Bleeding-so- ah, much,” he rasps out. His tone deep and rich now strained with pain and agony. Biting your lip in hesitance, you timidly walk down the stairs, your lantern flame illuminates the walls just about and the stranger seems to pick up on the flickering light that now seems to illuminate your poor-excuse for curtains.

“Oh- fuck. Are you there? Oh thank goodness! Oh please, please, let me in. He’s still out there, and my blood…will only- ah, draw him near!” He grunts out harshly knocking on the door in desperation.

He? The vampire? Oh shit. Was this a victim of that maniac? Shuddering, you approach your front window sill drawing back the curtains and slightly opening the wooden shutters. You weren’t sure about this; this would truly be a stupid way to die. But your heart couldn’t take his pained cries. You’d be failing your duty, what if you heard that he had died the next day? Oh guilt would eat you up for weeks!

The man’s face becomes illuminated by your lantern and he scrambles, wobbling over to the window sill grappling onto the ledge precariously with desperation. Oh my god. It was him. Choi Beomgyu.

His skin glows ethereally against the flame of your lantern, now paler than what you’re used to, presumably from whatever injury he had sustained. His dark murky irises meet yours, lashes glistening under the light. “Y-You, oh god, you’re the only one who’s woken up and given me a chance, t-thank, ah- the heavens above,” he grits out, eyes closing as you notice him clutch just below his ribs on the left side.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp seeing his usually white top now drenched in blood, staining it, it was a horrid sight. Just how bad was his injury to emit such an amount of bleeding? Your eyes widen, “What happened?”

He grunts struggling to stand, “Ah fuck, could you just let me inside, I can’t- ah, stand for much longer. Everything’s spinning.” You hesitate, “You know with everything going on and stuff I can’t just-“

Beomgyu in frustration, misery and pain, “Oh, I know, vampire this- ah, vampire that. That’s precisely my fucking problem,” he grimaces. “Problem? Wait- did you-“ you begin shakily.

Beomgyu shakily murmurs, “Vampire… attack. I need to be inside. He suddenly l-let me go, fuck, I don’t know, is he t-toying with me? I wrestled him off, stuck my dagger into him, and r-ran like my life depended on it-“ he deliriously explains. He hangs his head low; his brown, damp locks hanging over his eyes and his lips part heaving heavy and ragged breaths.

Placing the oil-lamp down, with panic, you grab your clunky keys and unlock the latches and unlock the door. The male almost stumbles in and you yelp as he falls against you.

“Ah- wait-“ you struggle against the sheer weight of him as you wrap your arms around him; you feel the wetness of his blood seep into your nightgown, making you grimace. Awkwardly, you maneuver him to sit against the wall as he murmurs against your ear, “Mm…thank,” he coughs, “…you.” You position him against the wall; his eyes are closed as he lies there still.

You slam the door shut not wanting any unwanted visitors being drawn to the scent of blood from your shop. Rushing around, you grab whatever medical supplies you needed to treat a vampire victim, after all, the last few weeks had given you (unfortunately) sufficient practice.

For a moment, you glance at his quietly resting face. Indeed, his beauty even whilst so battered was hauntingly ethereal. The flame of your oil lamp adds to his allure, to think the man who you had exchanged glances with, who smirked at you, would now be clinging to you for treatment.

Timidly, you untie the fastenings of his collar and unbutton the collar of his shirt as you untuck it from his trousers. Huh, quite the bleed out. You need to apply pressure first. Your fingers dab the area over the fabric and you realise most of the blood has dried. Guilt hits you, perhaps, you shouldn’t have made him wait outside in the cold air for so long…

Beomgyu groans, “Mm…thank you..” A small yet worried smile appears on your face, “Don’t thank me yet, it’s my job.” He rasps out slowly, “…I know, but no one,” he coughs, “…had let me in.” His words hang in the air pungently and you feel your heart race seeing his eyes open; his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“Mm…” he hums, “…aren’t you so sweet,” he breathes. Your face flushes at his words and you clear your throat, “Save your energy.” His lips quirk up into a lazy smile.

Biting your lip, your brows furrow as you put pressure on the area, “May I lift your top to look at the injury?” Beomgyu hums, “By all means...” With trepidation, you lift his shirt revealing his torso; you almost have to reel yourself back looking at his flawless skin and his toned body; now marred with the stain of blood.

Wait. You stiffen. Your eyes scan over the area where the blood had supposedly leaked from. There was nothing but a faint line, the bleeding, well, you couldn’t even say that, he wasn’t bleeding. Then…why was there so much fresh blood on his top?

Your blood runs cold as your heart begins to palpitate. Something wasn’t right. Your gaze snaps up to Beomgyu who watches you with keen interest, “Hm? What is it?” His demeanor had switched just like that.

Your hands shake, he wasn’t injured at all. So…whose blood was on him? What did he do to them? Your lips quiver, your eyes snapping back to his blood-stained skin trailing up his defined torso with his unraveled shirt to his neck, back to his face. No injuries, not even a bruise elsewhere. Your breaths become uneven as fear begins to pulse through you.

Who did you just let in?

A small yet deep chuckle resounds from Beomgyu as he observes you, his gaze no longer that of a victim, but a predator carefully analysing its prey. “Dearest little healer, have you figured it out?” His tone is condescending, a touch playful even, sending a shiver of warning down your spine.

He grabs your wrist trailing your fingers across his skin, “Was my act that convincing? I’m so touched, you know? You’re the only one whose heart was big enough to let poor old me in. Truly, little healer, how kind of you to let a desperate stranger in to treat them personally.”

Beomgyu rubs his thumb over your inner wrist pressing down as you watch frozen in fear. With a sudden tug he pulls you closer as you topple over his outstretched legs; your face inches from his. He presses his lips against your wrist before trailing the bridge of his nose against it, an incredibly intimate motion, as he inhales deeply, “Mm…the scent of your blood, impeccable. It almost had me drooling the moment you opened the door.”

His soft lips press against your inner wrist, “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined sinking my fangs into that pretty little neck of yours, or your delicate wrists, whenever I walked past you in the mornings.”

Shakily, you pry your wrist from his grip and stumble back against the floor, scooting back. No, no, you couldn’t be tempted like this. What type of sweet talking was this? A breathless laugh leaves his lips, “Oh? Was that too much for you?”

“I couldn’t help it, you know, those adorable star-struck eyes of yours, just barely managing to meet my gaze, that shy little smile you’d return to me, oh, it really was so endearing. Watching you open up your precious little shop, on my morning walks.”

Quivering, you murmur, “You’re the vampire, that’s been…” He rolls his head back, a crack resounds from his stiff neck, “Mm, yes, yes. I am, you humans always have the same dialogue, I see.” Beomgyu’s lips quirk into a playful smirk, “You should be thanking me you know, I believe I’ve helped you earn a large amount of profit recently, no?”

You gawk, “You- you’re biting people! Taking their blood!” He grins almost amused with your accusation, “I’m not draining them am I? All I do is feed myself, just before they collapse, I stop and erase their memories. Simple, and it doesn’t draw much suspicion. They can’t even prove that I even had anything to do with it.”

He cooes, shaking the hair out of his dark eyes, “Anyway, you don’t expect me to starve to death do you? I see no harm, as long as no one dies, everyone should have a little frightening experience once in a while, no? Call it a humbling experience, let's say.”

Trembling, you peer at him; the candlelight casts a golden hue across his face, your eyes finally catch a glimpse of his glimmering fangs that just about peek over his luscious bottom lip. They weren’t as obvious before…

“I- I took you in believing you were injured,” you exclaim in a panic. “Surely, surely you can leave me be, s-search for something else? Perhaps feed on an animal for tonight? Please,” you plead as fear courses through you.

Beomgyu chuckles, standing up and stretching his arms with a groan. “Oh, how cute you sound when you plead, little healer,” he coos, peering down at you. The weight of his boots on the floorboards make them creak ominously. “However, I’ve not had my fill of human blood for days, and I’m feeling rather ravenous tonight. I couldn’t help but want to pay a visit to the sweetest herbalist in the village.”

He takes a step forward making you flinch, “Hm, you’re not even trying to fight back, throw anything at me, you really are different from the rest of this pitiful excuse for a village.” Fuck. What an idiot you were! You had a small dagger under the front counter- hell, what on earth were you going to do with that measly thing against…him?

What if it makes things worse? He hadn’t killed anyone as of yet? Then again…he hadn’t fed in days, what if wants to drain you? A crowd of thoughts whir in your mind chaotically as you scoot back trying to figure something out.

Beomgyu appears to be staring at you; his eyes swirling with bloodlust, his fangs itching to sink down into your soft skin, to suckle on it as your sweet, sweet sanguine drips onto his tongue. The way you fearfully peer up at him, gives him a surge of power, a feeling he immensely enjoyed. He always loved playing with his food.

Your parted lips, disheveled hair, heaving chest, and the best part, your pounding heart and rushing blood - absolute music to his ears! He appeared to be analysing every part of you, all with that salacious smirk on his rosy lips.

Beomgyu takes another step, another one, you squeak as his boots near your feet before he crouches down. “You’ll make this easy for me right? I don’t wish to hurt you like the others, see, if they’d been more cooperative, like you’re being, then they’d have not sustained so many scrapes and bruises.” Beomgyu smiles slyly his fingers reaching to cup your jaw, “Such a pretty little thing you are.”

His tongue wets his lips, as he inhales once more, with an impatient growl, he wraps his fingers around your neck. A light squeeze, and you gasp as he pulls you flush against him. Your fingers cling onto his shirt brushing against his icy skin. Your eyes glaze over, no way, this all had to be a dream right?

You pitifully gaze at him; his eyes stare back into yours hungrily. A moment of silence passes between you two - you didn’t know what he was thinking, he appears to be deep in thought about something as he gazes at you.

“Never seen someone as compliant as you, huh,” he muses, leaning down, his breath brushing against the curve of your neck.

Honestly when you didn’t know why you weren’t breaking down your doors or window shutters and screaming for help or running for your life. Perhaps, because you knew it was futile to outrun someone like him. Your eyes meet his sinful features again. Deep down, in the deepest crevices of your mind, perhaps you enjoyed the thrill, the change in pace from your monotonous life. Though you were not keen on the idea of losing your life in the process.

The bridge of his nose trails up the curve of your neck as he hums, “Such a lovely scent you have, I can only imagine how delectable you taste.” His words send a shiver through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed as he chuckles, “Oh? You like that? Or are you scared? I don’t know with you, you seem so…calm. I like it, I’ve never had prey like you.” Prey. That’s what you were. His prey.

You were scared but not willing to run. The tension in the air was palpable, crackling with electricity as your gazes locked with each other. Was…he hesitating?

He bares his fangs ready to sink down into your flesh, but pauses. His hands grip your forearms tightly, almost painfully. Why wasn’t he biting down? Wait- that was a good thing! What was wrong with you?

With an incredibly frustrated sigh, he snaps, “Fuck.” His eyes zone in your neck, “Why can’t I just…when you look up at me like that? For fuck’s sake,” he hisses almost angry not at you but at himself.

Timidly, you murmur breathily, “You-“ His dark eyes malevolently snap to yours and he smiles darkly, “Do tell, little healer, is the anticipation killing you?” He mutters, “It’s killing me too, why can’t I fucking bring myself to bite down?”

The way your eyes peer up at him, your quivering lips - the face he has grown oddly fond of and accustomed to seeing everyday. Despite not interacting with you before this, what was it about you? It angered him, had he grown soft? It seems so.

Your eyes widen in surprise, he couldn’t bring himself to bite you? What in the world was this? He glares, “Don’t look at me like that. Otherwise, I’ll change my mind.”

He grips your jaw suddenly, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip, a gesture that leaves you breathless, “Huh, there’s just something about you, that almost makes my cold, lifeless heart almost yearn to beat again. Why’s that?”

Beomgyu leans closer with narrowed eyes, “Hm? Tell me. Are you a witch? Some sort of fae? Descendant of a siren, to have bewitched me somehow?” You peer at him blankly trying to process what was going on. Beomgyu observes your lackluster reaction and he releases a laugh, “Ah, suppose those words don’t mean much to you, hm?”

With an annoyed click of his tongue, he stands up, “You have seemed to abate my hunger temporarily, how fascinating that is, just as it is frustrating. Here I was putting on all the theatrics just to get a meal tonight.”

You notice him turn away with a nonchalant attitude leaving you speechless. You scramble up to your feet, “Wait!”

He peers over his shoulder carelessly, “Hm?” “You’re just…leaving me be?” You pant out, confusion reigning your senses.

Beomgyu’s lips quirk into a grin, his fangs subtly peeking out, “Why? Do you wish to get bitten so badly, sweet healer? If you’re so desperate, I’d hate not to oblige-“

“No- no-that won’t be necessary,” you glare, “I- I’m just confused, you put in all this effort just to…leave? Aren’t you still…hungry?” You stammer. His gaze darkens as he snaps his head away from you back to the front door, “Some things are best left unexplored, sweet healer. Don’t push my mercy any further tonight.”

With that, he swiftly leaves out of the door leaving your heart racing and your mind an amalgamation of confusion and nervous thrill. Was he not even afraid that you’d go tell anyone? He didn’t even erase your memory? Was he always this sloppy with his targets? Surely not.

After standing for awhile, you finally bring yourself back to your bed, lying down. Your heartbeat still couldn’t calm down. Images of his handsome visage, smooth voice permeate your mind. You were just itching to know, why did he let you go? Surely…surely he didn’t have a soft spot for you? Did he?

The next morning arrives, tiredness clings to your body as you grumpily set up shop. Yawning, you flip over the sign and as usual, your ears listen for the latest gossip.

“There was a dead deer nearby Mr.Gallagher’s house, goodness. What a pitiful sight, it must have been that vampire, no?” The other woman chortles, “Huh, that pest hasn’t been drinking any victims for the last week and a half, what, has he gotten bored of human blood?” The two ladies laugh and you grimace. Well, at least now you know what alternative blood source Beomgyu had yesterday night. Poor thing; a light pang of guilt hits you.

Begrudgingly, you start you routine of crushing up spices and herbs and writing labels. A sudden sound of the door opening startles you. Who?-

“Look at you, as hard at work as always,” a familiar voice hums.

You whip around seeing Beomgyu striding in, a mischievous gaze and sly smile. He looked more handsome in the day, much more menacing at night. Regardless, his presence here meant bad news. You murmur, “What do you want?”

He muses, “Oh? Do you treat all your customers so coldly?” You glare, “Not all of my customers wish to drink my blood?” Beomgyu feigns innocence with a playful laugh, “Me? Oh, are you still not over yesterday night?”

“You’ve never set foot in my shop before, so why now?” You ask defensively. He grins walking up to the counter and your heart begins racing. “Why? Are you scared I’ll take a little sip right now?” Beomgyu’s eyes gleam amused.

The way he seemed to speaking to you now almost sent you into whiplash. His tone, his mannerisms, almost akin to a puppy nudging their owners foot, asking them to play fetch.

“Come now, sweet healer, if I could resist you yesterday, what makes you think I can’t today?” You mutter cautiously, “If you’re here to buy something, then buy it.”

Beomgyu muses, “Oh and here I thought with those shy smiles and glances we exchanged you’d be begging me to stay.” You mumble in embarrassment, “Well- that was- I-“

“Hm? Hm?” He eggs on laughing making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. “Oh, you do intrigue me so, little healer. So skittish yet you don’t outrightly kick me out. Hm? Why’s that?”

Fuck him. Fuck him and his perceptive nature. How humiliating. Exactly, why weren’t you kicking him out of your shop? You huff turning back around working on your labels.

You hear him snickering, “No answer? Fine by me.” Beomgyu grabs a stool dragging it to your counter and sits atop it, resting his elbow on the counter as he observes you.

“Are you just planning to stay here and watch me work?” You deadpan. “Well, I could always get my fill-“ he begins. “No, actually so whatever. You’ll get bored and leave soon anyway,” you huff.

“You solely underestimate a vampire’s patience,” he muses. His eyes trail along your working form, your cute little apron decorated with various stains and dirt along with your cotton dress underneath cinched perfectly by the knot of your apron string. Oh how adorable.

He wasn’t usually so keen on talking to humans, but something about you. He knew you liked him, why else would you be so bashful every morning? Yet unlike the others, you weren’t so open about it, never approached him. Such a reserved little thing you were.

Feeling his intense gaze, you didn’t know whether he was sizing you up as his prey, or genuinely appraising your attractiveness. Nevertheless, you continued on trying your best to ignore his presence. Various customers come in here and there and are almost jarred by his presence which makes you sigh in exasperation.

“You’re not leaving are you?” You groan. He muses, “Oh I will, just a little longer, patience my sweet, it’s only been an hour. I find it fascinating to see how you make your little medicines and such.”

You glare, “Little medicines?” Beomgyu grins, “Why yes, watching you work so hard to expand mortal lives, just a little bit longer, is amusing to me.”

“How cynical of you,” you drawl. He muses, “I can be optimistic if that’s what you’d like, sweet healer.” You groan. What had you gotten yourself into? Despite this you can’t bring yourself to kick him out. You don’t know why, perhaps it was the years of working alone in this dingy little shop of yours, that you found yourself yearning for company.

From his first visit, you never had thought his little sit-ins and chats would become more frequent, in fact, it was everyday. At the same time, after you’d open up, he’d stroll in taking his seat at the stool you had (not intentionally by any means), put out for him.

Your conversations would vary from calm to bickering, flirtatious and even trivial at times. It had become an almost quintessential part of both of your days. You hadn’t even realised that weeks had flown by.

“You know what’s so idiotic about these vampiric rules? That I have to be invited in first. What a chore,” he scoffs. You snort, “That’s quite the rule. Hilarious actually.” He bemoans as he rests his head atop the palm of his hand, “Believe me, that’s why I keep my prey-“ You correct, “People.”

He scoffs, “Alright, those people, that's why I usually feed outside. But in your case…I was unfortunately bound by such idiotic rules. Hence, the whole act. It worked though, you naively invited me in.”

You grab the crate of jars of ingredients to put up on the top shelf. Recently, Beomgyu had been helping you out here and there to your surprise. Not once has he even attempted to feed on you. It remains a lingering question in your mind, why wouldn’t he? Perhaps he was really that fond of you. Or was this some sort of elaborate scheme?

“Yeah, but you didn’t feed on me.” You muse as you tiptoe to put the crate up. A whoosh resounds behind you, as you suddenly find him behind you making you yelp startled. “Beomgyu, what the-“

He muses his fingers overlapping yours as you both grip the crate and he helps you put it atop the shelf; his breath caressing the curve of your neck, “I didn’t feed on you, though it doesn’t mean that I can’t in the future. You just…happened to be a soft spot of mine is all.”

You peer over your shoulder meeting his gaze, “Soft spot?” He hums, “Don’t dwell your pretty head on it for too long.” Beomgyu inhales deeply with a playful tone, “You still smell just as good. I can hear your little heart pounding away. Nervous?”

“You’re so close, how can I not be?” You mutter. A small laugh leaves his lips, “Ah, I can be much closer, you know?” You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Uh huh, yeah right. Now move.”

You go to move to the side but he suddenly grabs your shoulder, spinning you around and he pushes you against the wall with a mischievous glint in his sharp eyes. His hands grip your wrists pinning them beside your head. Beomgyu muses, “I think you forgot who you’re talking to here.”

Glaring, you murmur, “Move.” He coos, “My, my, aren’t you so demanding? Say please.” You glare, “This isn’t funny, Beomgyu.”

“You’re right it isn’t,” he fires back nonchalantly, “In fact, it just makes me feel hungry, seeing you pinned against the wall like this.” He leans in, “Look at you, you aren’t fighting back, again,” he chuckles, “You like this, don’t you?”

“Because I know you won’t do it,” you fiercely say, meeting his gaze. His pupils have dilated and rises have darkened into a murky colour. He smiles coyly, “I won’t bite into that delicate neck of yours? You’re so sure.”

Your wrists writhe against his grip, “Now stop fooling around, I have a lot of orders to get to. Because of you, I’m already behind.” He shakes his head, “Ah, ah, ah, not so fast, my sweet healer. The fun’s not over yet. You’re getting flustered aren’t you?”

Beomgyu’s lips near your ear, “Imagine if anyone walked in right now, hm? Goodness knows what they’d think we’re doing behind this counter having you pinned against the wall like this as I whisper sweet nothings in your ear, oh the scandal!”

You scoff shoving him aside and he releases a cackle as your cheeks flare in warmth and your heart races as unholy imagery floods your mind. The thought of it however, does sent a bolt of desire through you. Damn him!

“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath. Beomgyu chuckles, the tip of his tongue brushing over one of his fangs in sheer delight, “Oh you amuse me so much, little healer.”

“I do have a name you know?” You deadpan. “Oh I know, Y/n. You’ve not complained until now?” He shrugs. Fair point. Exasperated, you continue your duties as he remains to pester you once more.

Though one thing was for sure, as long as he was around, your heart wouldn’t stop fluttering. He wasn’t what you expected him to be, yet you can’t help but be pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. His presence certainly gave your life a bit of colour and vibrancy indeed.

The days pass by in a blur, something that’s never happened before. You’ve always loathed how slow the days went by, but now it seemed as though you couldn’t even keep up with them! As much of a…pest as he was, you grew to enjoy his company.

You close up your shop as you spot people rushing inside fearfully. People had already started rumours about the two of you. Huh, well, you were never one to care, you knew they’d always come to you for your remedies regardless.

The attacks had decreased in their frequency (with your hefty persuasion). Though they weren’t completely gone, after all, Beomgyu needed to survive. However he always assured you that he’d never kill anyone.

“Closing up are we?” A voice suddenly calls and you snap startled, “Stop doing that, Beomgyu!”He peers around the corner with stupidly attractive smirk as he ruffles his dark brown locks, “Oh? But you look so cute when you’re frightened.”

With a groan, “A pest. That’s what you are. To think I let you in.” Beomgyu’s eyes gleam darkly, “Oh don’t be like that, little healer. You love my presence. I believe it was the beginning of a very, very special little relationship.”

“Right,” you glare unamused. “Where were you this morning? You didn’t visit,” you ask. His smirk morphs into a grin, “Missed me?”

“No,” you fire out immediately. He muses walking towards you with a playful stride and his hands behind his back, “Mm, I was out hunting. I’ve been feeding on animals as of late, these pesky little villagers here have grown smarter in their tactics.”

You snort, “Not going to try to act injured again?” His eyes flash darkly, “Ah, well no one else is as naive as you to invite me in, healer. So no.” You scoff bitterly, “Alright, alright, easy now.”

“Anyway, I’m here now, I’m feeling a bit famished, however,” he eyes your neck, “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed for dinner would you?”

You glare, “I would mind.” Ignoring your words, he walks past you opening your door and walking in, “Oh, why thank you, my sweet, sweet healer. Such hospitality.”

You scoff, “I thought you had that rule about being invited in?” He grins peering over his shoulder, “Only applies once, sweet thing. Too bad isn’t it?” You huff walking behind him, “Of course it fucking does.”

With that, you find yourself in a rather domestic setting, having invited him upstairs, where your living quarters were. You chop your vegetables with ease as he sits at your worn-down dining table with a cocky smile, “Do you not have any meat? All these vegetables smell rather repulsive.”

“Didn’t you eat already?” You chide. Beomgyu hums, “Oh I did, but I don’t think a rabbit fills you up very much. Animal blood never has any substance to it, bitter too, eugh,” he grimaces. You gasp, “That poor thing!” He rolls his eyes, “Oh so I can’t even have animal blood now? There’s no winning, is there?”

With a sigh, you resume cooking in a comfortable silence. He liked watching you carry out your mundane tasks. He had lived for a long time, despite this, the way you did everything with so much care, such precision, it sparked interest in him. Time had become something fickle in his eyes, he had a lot of it, and well, not enough to do.

Though hanging around you has changed that. Something about your peculiarities, mannerisms that had him so intrigued. You were cautious yet open-minded, timid but also had a witty mouth. Oh, what pretty lips you had when you bickered with him. He really did love getting you all riled up, even more so, he loves getting you flustered.

Beomgyu’s gaze trails down your form, starting at your haphazardly put together bun revealing your tempting neck. How could you torture him so cruelly?

Instinctually, his tongue wets his lower lips; his fangs aching to protrude. The scent of your blood always lingered around you, tempting him constantly. He really did want to suckle on your neck, lick along your skin, perhaps leave a mark or two. However…he didn’t know if you could handle such rough treatment. You looked so…delicate?

Your unwillingness to immediately scream, run away the night he first came into your shop, your oddly calm demeanor despite the bubbling fear that he could so clearly see within you, it was unique. You never pushed him away. Even when he had his eye on you before the whole ordeal, he just found something ever so…endearing about you as you went about your routine.

So much so, he couldn’t bring himself to ravage your neck that night. Beomgyu considered it an act of mercy, after all, he was absolutely ravenous that night but…you had caught him off guard. So, he didn’t erase your memory like the others. He wanted you to remember him. Beomgyu had an inkling that you’d not tell anyone.

The more he spent time with you, the more he wanted to bite down, not just for the sake of feeding himself, he wanted to make you feel good. So good, that you’d beg him to bite your precious little neck and perhaps even a few other areas.

A sweet, resilient little herbalist in this dismal village, all to himself. What a devious thought, one that he relishes. Beomgyu stands, walking over to you and leaning his back against the counter flashing you his signature snarky smirk.

“You almost done?” He queries. Raising a brow, you answer, “Almost, yeah. Why? Not like you’re going to eat anything.” He snorts at your bluntness, “Mm, well, I am getting rather hungry. Just itching for a bite.”

“Very funny, Beomgyu,” you drawl sarcastically. Beomgyu shifts closer; his arm brushes yours as you make the final preparations. “I can’t help it when I have something as tempting as you in front of me,” he muses, his eyes going down your face.

He approaches you, caging you in with your back hitting the counter, his two arms brushing by your hips preventing you from escaping. There it was again, the expression he loved so much. A mixture of curiosity, fluster, a touch of desire. He leans down with an alluring smile, “Sweet healer, how long do you think we can go about this precarious little dance of ours?”

You hum trying to keep your composure, “Are you saying you only see me as food?” His cool exterior cracks and his eyes flash for a moment, a touch of remorse.

“No, of course not. If that were the case, I’d have fed on you the first time, or even the second. You know I’m just…” he peers away with a serious expression. Oh? Did he take your jest too seriously? His furrowed brows and slightly pouty lips - oh my god, he looked so…good.

“I’m just playing with you, joking around. I wouldn’t…do that. Not to you, at least… never,” he hesitates, “…you.” Never? He didn’t want to hurt you? Like genuinely? Your eyes trace along his ethereal features; your heart races. Perhaps your initial crush on the man before still lingered, well, it never went away, you suppose. You always felt breathless when he was around, flustered and most importantly happy.

You liked him. You liked…a vampire? You liked Choi Beomgyu.

He steps back almost as if he was reevaluating himself and you can’t help but smile. Huh, he took you too seriously. How cute. Your heart pounds. He really did care about you a lot. You grasp his arm pulling him back, peering up at him with a coy smile. His eyes meet yours with a hint of confusion, curiosity and desire. You murmur, “Did you take me seriously?”

“Were you being serious? You said it so seriously, I thought I hurt your feelings,” he murmurs lowly, his husky tone sending a shiver down your spine. Oh, you loved his voice.

You muse, “Mm, I was just teasing. I know you’d have done it long ago, erased my memory and have ran off.” His shoulders ease down in relief, “Right.” A giggle escapes you, “Look at you, a big scary vampire, afraid of hurting my feelings?”

His eyes flash dangerously and he murmurs, “Well you’re not just an ordinary human to me, are you? I don’t want you running off on me.”

Gazing up at him, you hum, “Why’s that? What’s so special about me?” You can’t help but let your eyes flicker to his lips. So kissable, they were.

This action doesn’t go unnoticed and his gaze darkens, “Oh has my sweet little healer morphed into a temptress?” Your cheeks feel hot as his gaze locks onto your lips.

“What’s so special about you, you ask? Well, you’re cornered by me, not just once, yet you never run. You’re the only one in this town who’s been willing to look past my appearance. Thirdly, I have a hunch that you’re not so averse to the idea of getting bitten, than these other cowardly villagers are,” he breathes leaning in.

The tip of his nose brushes against yours. He whispers, “Not to mention, what an attractive little thing you are. You had caught my eye from day one.” Your breath hitches as his hand slides up your arm cupping the back of your head, just above your neck, “You’ve no idea how many nights I’ve imagined you beneath me, on top of me, having your lips on mine.” Your knees almost buckle on the spot at his sinful words.

Breathlessly, you say, “You’re desperate for me?”His gaze glimmers warningly, “Don’t taunt me, healer.” His grasp tightens on the back of your neck.

You can’t help but smile as your foreheads touch, you close your eyes and breathe out, “Yeah? What are you going to do about it then?” He releases a small provoking laugh before latching his lips onto yours.

The kiss is initially soft, passionate, your hands cling to his shirt as the sweet sensation fills your senses. You realise very quickly, how addictive this could become. Moving your lips back against his; a low groan escapes him as he tilts his head kissing you deeper. A slow, seductive kiss that leaves your legs on the verge of buckling.

Both of you part from each other, lust clouding your senses. “That was…” he breathes. “…amazing,” you respond shakily. His lips quirk into a smirk, “Yeah, in fact, I want more,” with that he presses his lips against yours again, your arms wrap around his neck pulling him flush against you. His firm body against your soft one; it left you feeling weak.

This time he moves his lips more fervently, he parts your lips with his tongue with ease deepening the kiss. It was a long time coming, the mutual unspoken attraction and tension between the two of you had finally broken over the brim of composure. Beomgyu trails his lips along your jaw, you feel a hint of his fangs, sending a shiver down your spine. He moves further down your neck, his tongue darting out moistening the skin and leaving a trail of kisses.

Inhaling deeply, he murmurs, “Mm, fuck…your blood’s rushing.” You hum, your fingers running through the back of his hair, “Yeah?”

His lips suckle on the skin of your neck; a whimper escapes you. “God, you have no idea how much I want to…but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Is that why?” You breathlessly question, “Is that why you’ve not done it so far?”He responds; his eyes meeting yours and briefly meeting his lips with yours, “Don’t want to force you or hurt you. You mean a lot to me, I don’t want to treat you like some sort of prey alone.” Your neck tingles, your imagination running wild.

“Does it hurt that bad?” You inquire. He murmurs, “Well, initially it does, depends on how cooperative one is,” he rubs the bridge of his nose against the curve of your neck; his composure and patience waning by the minute. “You’d be surprised, some find it pleasurable after a while, some just hate it,” he muses.

“What do you think? You think I’ll like it?” You ask, feeling a flurry of boldness hit you. He stiffens against you and he straightens up peering into your eyes, “Do you understand what you’re implying here, healer?”

A smirk lines your lips, “If you fed on me, do you think I’d grow to like it?” His pupils dilate, and a shaky breath leaves his lips, “Sweet healer, you really are testing my resolve aren’t you? My patience has its limits, you know?”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips where you see his fangs ever so slightly protrude, “I know.” Beomgyu releases a frustrated groan tousling his locks, “Once I get a bite of you, you know I’ll come back for more. I won’t stop with one bite, I’ll yearn for it whenever we meet,” he warns. With a deep inhale, temptation gets the best of you, “So? I trust you. You won’t lose control.”

Beomgyu’s eyes morph into a darkness that sends your lower stomach spiralling as he whips closer to you with unimaginable speed, gripping your forearms pulling you flush against him. Cupping your jaw with his hand, he murmurs as though he's a second away from losing restraint. His hand slides down to your neck giving it a light squeeze and a small pleasant whimper escapes your parted lips, his eyes flash with desire. Smirking he muses, “Aren’t you a filthy little thing for enjoying that? Well, anyway don’t tense up, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

His lips suckle against your skin tugging it lightly; his tongue wetting your skin before you feel a sharp pain pierce through you. “Ah fuck-!” You yelp, eyes clamping shut and you breathe shakily. That shit hurts like hell! He was right!

You grit your teeth trying not to tense; you feel it, your blood rushing through you, adrenaline pumping through your body at the sensation. The salacious sounds of him gulping down your blood seems almost erotic in a sense. Within a few seconds, the stinging morphs into something almost pleasurable. No, no almost, as twisted as it was, it felt…good? Well as good as something piercing your skin can get, you suppose. A mix of pain and pleasure…

Beomgyu cradles the back of your head, pulling your head back by your hair causing your lips to release a rather peculiar sound. With a ‘pop’, he unlatches from your neck and meets your gaze. Your vision is slightly blurry and your legs feel weak. He stopped?

He licks his lips and your eyes follow the trickle of blood down his chin. Your blood. He wipes it with the back of his before licking it, with succulent fervour. “Mm, just as I thought, fuck, you taste good and that sound, my, my.”

You peer at him dazed. Oh, how incredible you look all zoned out and lightheaded. Aren’t you a freakish little thing, enjoying this? He presses his lips to your fiercely; the metallic taste of your own blood permeating your mouth. The whole ordeal was sinfully addictive. You could get used to this very quickly.

Beomgyu presses a brief peck to your neck, licking up any remaining blood, “I can only imagine how good you’ll be in other circumstances and what other noises I can get that pretty little mouth of yours to make.” You tiredly mutter in defence, “No, I- that was..”

He muses letting your head rest on his chest, “Ssh, ssh, relax, my sweet healer. You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, the last thing I need is you fainting on me.” He wraps his arm around you enjoying your fatigued embrace. Closing your eyes, you hear his whisper, “You’re now mine, you hear that? I won’t let any other pitiful human lay their hands on you. Got that?”

His? Your eyes flutter open weakly peering up at him; his gaze is intense. You peer at his lips once more, cupping his jaw and pulling him down for a brief kiss; a metallic taste filling your tongue. Beomgyu hums parting from you, “You realise, what you’ve started between us right? I don’t plan to just go about my time. You’ve only made me want more of you.”

You wanted more of him too. Oh, you really did.

You don’t know what possesses you, or what about him is so sinfully addictive that has you saying the words, “Then take me,” you breathe out, “Take me as yours.”

“Don’t worry, you already are,” Beomgyu murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as you succumb to your exhaustion.

Hm, you wonder what the other villagers would think if they knew you were the vampire’s new lover - they’d think you were deranged. Well, you deem that this one secret could remain that way. Just that.

A sinful little secret.

Taglist:

@f4iryfever @love-be0m @hyunelixbun @baekberrie @soohashits @sirenla @vicurious28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @matcha-binz @elara828

[tojjist]

aftercare with gojo

warnings: suggestive. not proof read. literally just gojominors, ageless and blank blogs dni

there is no doubt in me that gojo fucks like a god.

he lies a lot, but no lie is bigger than the “i'll be gentle” he gives you before your session. at some point you just stopped expecting him to keep his word.

so he's always left with you in his bed; sore legs, fucked out, and barely able to keep your breathing straight.

"fuck, sat', can't feel my legs." "means i must've done something right"

he'll get you a wet towel to wipe off the mess he's made. sometimes he'd be a little more rough than necessary, trying to be thorough. but instead he gets kicked in the face by your foot.

gojo always has a cup of ginger for your sore throat. he knows exactly how much honey to add to sweeten it to your preference, if at all. but if you're too whiney after sex chances are he threatens to spill it on you.

cuddles are so obviously mandatory. if not for you, then for him. he'd kiss you until you can't breathe, making sure you feel his love through and through. you once told him he's going to be the death of you and ever since it became his life mission to ensure that's the case.

"mm, you're so sweet after sex, sat'."

"only for you, baby girl."

it's unironic, by the way. he genuinely thinks it's attractive of him to call you baby girl.

gojo satoru fucks like a god. but after sex he's a fool in love. he intends on letting you know that sex with you isn't just sex; it's a remedy to mold his rotten wounds. it's love like he's never experienced before.

[beenbaanbuun]

sick w/ addams!matz

whilst i’m busy writing part two to opposites attract, here is just some silly fluffy stuff!!

——————————————

you’re sick. flu, by the feel of it. with your heavy head, sniffly nose and permanent fatigue, there’s very little else it could be. it’s unfortunate, but nothing you couldn’t deal with by yourself. a few days bed rest and you’ll be fine.

your lovers don’t quite agree. all it took was for the word ‘fever’ to leave your lips and suddenly all hell broke loose. you should’ve known that the second you brought it up to seonghwa it would be blown entirely out of proportion. the man is level headed about a lot of things; you are not one of them.

it had been a military operation with him the second the word ‘fever’ dropped from your lips. for three days now, you’ve been under strict instruction to not leave their bed, trapped there like a prisoner with hongjoong watching over you like a hawk. if you step a toe out of line, you get a sharp slap to the back of your thigh and a quick scolding. its hardly enough to keep you in check, especially when your regular punishments are so much heavier, but hongjoong is also under his husbands strict instructions to be as gentle with you as humanly possible.

it’s boring.

of course, you love talking with hongjoong when he has the time to join you in bed, but he still has to work. laying for hours at a time just staring at the back of your daddy’s head as he writes letters to his clients is nothing short of dull. he expects you to stay silent so he can concentrate on what he’s writing. you thought it to be a silly rule until you disobeyed on the first day and he moved himself and his work to the armchair out in the hallway; he could still listen in for any sign of you trying to escape the confines of their bed, but he could finally get enough peace and quiet to concentrate on his work. those few hours were so boring that you quickly made the decision that you could manage silence for a few hours if it meant that you weren’t alone.

sometimes seonghwa would come and visit you in the room, although with you being sick, you found that he had far less free time than usual. in between working in the greenhouse and cooking up cold remedies in the kitchen, he found that he actually got to spend very little time by your side. he trusted hongjoong to follow his very specific instructions on how to take care of you (make sure you’re drinking fluids, make sure you’re always warm, replace the cloth on your head every 1-2 hours) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be more active in your care routine himself.

its the morning of the 3rd day than seonghwa finds his wish coming to fruition, and unfortunately his time being stretched even thinner. of course, he doesn’t blame hongjoong for having to leave the house for work—antiquities don’t source themselves, after all—but he can’t help but feel a little stressed with the notion of adding ‘caring for darling’ onto his already long list of tasks. from what he’s heard from hongjoong, you still like to push your luck even when your head feels like a furnace and you’re coughing your lungs up. he hardly has the time to guard you like hongjoong does, so as he tucks your still sleeping body into the almost empty bed, he decides that he’ll just have to hope that maybe today you’ll see sense and behave. it’s a long shot, but he’ll just have to trust you for today.

ten minutes later, he finds that trust being broken when he hears a bump from the bedroom. he sighs, closing his eyes in frustration as the sound of a door creaking open echos through the house. the slapping of bare feet against a slick wooden floor soon follows and before he knows it, you’re coming down the stairs. it’s a good job that seonghwa isn’t an angry person, finding it an ugly emotion that doesn’t reflect well on anyone. you’d be in for a hellish day otherwise.

‘you’re supposed to stay in bed, little lamb,’ he hums as you show your face in the door to his greenhouse. you look wide eyed and bewildered, your brain still clearly muddled by sleep. it’s cute, and he finds himself smiling though his annoyance. you hobble towards him wrapped in the black knitted bedspread he’d lay over you not moments before, and he finds himself unable to control the chuckle that bubbles up within him. he lays the watering can down on the table and spreads his arms for you to topple into. ‘tell me why you’re flaunting my rules so carelessly, darling.’

you bask in his warmth for just a second, feeling safe and happy in his lithe arms. he’s so much gentler with you than hongjoong is; even when you’re sick your daddy likes to manhandle you to be exactly where he wants. it’s not like you’re complaining, though. you like the way it makes you feel when he treats you so helplessly.

‘woke up alone,’ you mutter into seonghwa’s chest. the lace of his blouse was scratchy against your too-hot face, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from him. you just want him close, even if you have to sacrifice your comfort for the sake of it. ‘hongjoong wasn’t there and you weren’t there and i’m lonely.’

any frustration that resided within seonghwa slowly melts away with your confession. you’re just too sweet for him to stay upset with, especially when you’re so dopey and reliant on them.

‘hongjoong had to work, lamb; your daddy can’t stay at home all the time,’ soft fingers lace themselves into your hair, gently petting you like you’re some sort of kitten. he supposes you do rather look like one when you’re wearing your collar. you’re just so sweet and submissive when you sit by seonghwa’s feet at he puts it on for you. it’s a shame you’re too sick for that right now, your skin too sensitive and the collar too tickly; it would only serve to irritate you. ‘and you know that i have to work as well. i have to take care of the house, the plants and cook an unheavenly amount of chicken noodle soup for you. i wish i could stay in bed with you, but i can’t.’

and you understand, of course you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy with it. you want hongjoong to be home, and you want seonghwa to have less to do. you want to be stuffed between them from the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, doted on and cared for by your two lovers. the notion of that not being possible just doesn’t seem to compute in your fever-addled brain. you whimper into seonghwa’s chest.

‘oh, my precious little lamb,’ he coos, resting his chin on top of your head, ‘hongjoong will be home in a few hours, and i’m sure i can take a short break from my errands at some point. it’s hardly like you’re going to be alone for long.’

‘take a break now,’ you insist, ‘just for a little while…’

it’s a trap, seonghwa knows that. the moment he crawls back into bed with you, you’ll find some way of making him stay there until hongjoong gets home. either you’ll crawl onto him and refuse to let him go, or you’ll use your adorable charm to manipulate him into staying with you. still, he can’t find himself able to say no to you. he hums in agreement and pulls away from you slightly.

‘okay, little lamb,’ your face lights up and he grins. even with your sweaty forehead and slightly grey skin, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest creature to walk the earth, ‘lead the way.’

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PART TWO

Unchained Melody (Part Three)

Summary: As an uncomfortable tension settles between you both the next day, Tommy finally musters up enough courage to say what needs to be said, only to be interrupted by a scornful Governess, then two unexpected visitors later that day. But as night descends on Arrow House and your guests return to their homes, your husband tells you of the uncomfortable reality, and turmoil you had left him in as he drowns himself in his most reliable friend, and remedy to numb the pain. Whisky.

Warnings: Language, angst, postpartum depression, mutual pining

Word Count: 5291

Authors note: A quieter chapter before things finally come to a head after an eventful, terrifying day in the next part.

Two days. You had been back for a total of two, full days. Not only had you and Tommy been avoiding the hard discussion that desperately needed to take place, you had learnt that the Governess who was hired to care for your son had also been keeping your husband company. Or to be more accurate, keeping him company in the martial bed you once shared. You didn't think it possible your heart could ache anymore until last night when your eyes landed on Tommy's sheepish gaze staring back at you as you left your son's nursery, and you came face to face with not only his disheveled appearance but his belt shamelessly unbuckled as the Governess sauntered from the dimly lit room they had both left. It didn't take much for you to come to the anguished realisation of what had occurred in your absence as you tormented yourself for the remainder of the evening with images of your husband making love to the woman you felt had replaced you, all while a painful nagging of self- conscious thoughts plagued your sleepless night.

Did she satisfy him better than you ever did? Was her body more attractive to him than yours? Did he...love her? As a barrage of unstoppable questions you had no answers for other than the ones your worried mind could conjure up, you dragged your shaky body timidly down the winding staircase the next morning, every part of you fearing you would break down into a puddle of pitiful tears for the hundredth time once again.

You were weeks, if not days from having enough willpower to return to Arrow House, you'd tell yourself. Whether you truthfully believed it or not, it was the sole dream you held onto, wishfully hoping your husband hadn't forgotten you, praying he and your son would show you mercy if you ever returned to them. How could you have been so selfish to think he would've waited? That he wouldn't have moved on? You thought to yourself as you scrambled to piece together your shattered heart from the embarrassment you felt for being so foolish. Your place in the grand house you once called your home was thoroughly understood. You were now, the other woman.

Smoothing down the front of your dress, you closed your eyes, desperately trying to compose yourself before you entered the dining room and let your true feelings slip.

"Good morning Mrs Shelby, some tea perhaps?" Frances greeted you, stood next to William cutting his toast into smaller, toddler-sized pieces as you entered the room. Mrs Shelby...Was you still? You thought to yourself as you walked to the end of the large mahogany table with Tommy sat at the head, looking at the end of the burning cigarette resting between his fingers, anywhere but you, anywhere that would hide the shame in his eyes and the regret uncomfortably wrapped around his chest.

" Yes, thank you, Frances" you answered quietly as you looked to the seat beside Tommy. Your seat. The seat saved solely for the lady of the house. A simple, once mundane decision as to where to sit suddenly felt like the most cementing finality to your broken marriage. Forgoing the position you once held, you made your way around the table to sit next to your son as Tommy's eyes flew up, darting to the unoccupied chair next to him then back to you, huffing as he stubbed his cigarette out into the glass ashtray. What did he expect? Tommy, the man always a step ahead of everyone else, couldn't fathom that someone couldn't just soldier on like him, ignoring the fragility of such a situation, and have things left unspoken without resolution.

With his tired body relenting to yet another issue that needed to be faced, he slouched into the frame of his seat as he turned his head away, running his hand down his tired features as a headache from guzzling half a bottle of whisky in an attempt to numb his guilt the previous night started to thump furiously across his forehead. He too, hadn't slept.

" William, eat your toast son" Tommy said clearing his throat as he sat up noisily unfolding his newspaper whilst staring at you, trying to garner your attention and have you finally look his way. But with your refusal to do so, a mutual silence descended between you both as you tended to your son and ignored your husband's blatant attempts to show you how unhappy he was with your choice of seats. Was he looking for an argument? Was that what he wanted, a slagging match to tally up who was more in the wrong?

" Some more water for your tea Mam" Frances said as she walked in and placed a floral china teapot in front of you as Tommy looked over his newspaper, stealing another glance before furrowing his brow and returning his eyes to the first line of the business collum he had read, and re-read at least ten times already.

The latest happenings in the world of finance that would normally have him buried deep in thought each morning held little to zero interest as his worries drifted to what you were thinking, occupying every space in his restless mind. Did you think he was still having sex with her? That she had replaced you? That he loved her? Tommy nervously thought to himself as his paper lowered, and he watched your lips graze over the porcelain cup in your hand as a dusting of particles illuminated by the morning sun glittered gracefully around you. Captured once again, Tommy's feelings of melancholy that once shrouded him suddenly subsided and an urgent need for reconciliation swept over him as his fingers inadvertently inched across the freshly laid table cloth closer to your hand.

"Y/N, can we tal..." he said apprehensively as you finally looked up to see the anguish engulfing his tired face when the door flew open and the Governess strode in, quickly causing him to snatch his hand away.

" Frances, tea" she demanded looking to Tommy giving him a smirk as he glared at her, his jaw tightening within seconds at the mere sight of her smug face.

" Staff eat down in the kitchen, unless invited otherwise" Tommy mumbled, lifting his newspaper as the tension that had slowly simmered between you both came thundering back tenfold into a suffocating pressure that was weighing the room down. Fuck, she needed to go. Tommy thought to himself as she sat down beside him without a care, taking your place once again, thinking she had the upper hand in the situation. Her little stunt filled with veiled threats the previous night had Tommy calling up and down the country all morning gathering as much information as he could on who she was, and her own little secrets she wished to keep from seeing the light of day. Brazen enough to make such threats, Tommy was no fool to think she hadn't safeguarded the intel she had acquired on him. And until he had dealt with whoever had been entrusted with said information, be it family or friend, her unwelcome presence in the house would have to be begrudgingly endured.

" Mummy" William smiled up at you with jammy cheeks, and a single toothy smile whilst kicking his legs back and forth, single handily bringing a smile to your face and a distraction from the frosty stare the Governess sat across from you was sending your way.

" Hi sweetheart..." You replied quietly, running your fingers across his plump cheek as a tear settled on your lashes, never tiring from hearing the sweetest of words spoken to you.

" Don't talk with your mouth full William" the governess barked, breaking the tender moment between you both and shocking you out of the one delight you felt you were allowed to enjoy.

" Give it a rest, would you? He's two bloody years old" Tommy snapped back, having had enough of her overbearing, over-controlling attitude towards his son, your son. Why the hell did he even go there, with her? Tommy thought to himself, wondering if it wouldn't be easier to just throw her in the cut.

" More, more, more" William's little voice squeaked as he pointed enthusiastically to the glass dish of strawberry jam in the center of the table as a quiet chuckle left Tommy's lips and a smile graced your own at his sheer determination, and the learnt knowledge of his sweet tooth he could have only inherited from one person.Tommy.

Reaching for the jam, you pulled it towards you when a hand suddenly grabbed the opposite end, sharply pulling it back into the middle of the table.

" Do you want him bouncing of the walls, hm? Did you eat a lot of sugar when you nursed him? That certainly explains a lot" The governess peered down at you, not giving you an opportunity to reply before coming to her own judgment as you recalled into the back of your seat and a sudden surge of self-doubt engulfed your stomach, your ability to be a mother suddenly brought into question over something so meaningless as a second serving of jam. As your eyes cast down at the cold cup of tea in front of you, every interaction you had had with your son since your return had the feelings of inadequacy that once darkened your mind seep rapidly back into your fragile thoughts.

As you shrank into yourself, numb of William pulling at the sleeve of your dress while the Governess continued her barrage of unwarranted parenting knowledge, Tommy watched as your tearful eyes looked up at him, pulling at his heart until he could no longer withstand the torment of seeing you look so vulnerable. Throwing his newspaper onto the empty plate in front of him, Tommy abruptly stood up, glaring at the Governess as his teeth grounded down onto eachother. Her overstepping into the role you solely held as William's mother getting on his last, and final nerve.

" It's just fucking jam!" Tommy's voice rose, reaching over the table placing the small bowl in front of William as the Governess lips pursed together, and she folded her arms in annoyance that her lecture had gone ignored. "Enjoy my boy" Tommy said walking behind your son, placing a tender kiss to the crown of his head as he looked to you before swiftly leaving the room with some urgent calls to be made, and preferably an anchor and rope to be ordered.

" Well..." The governess scoffed as her eyes darted from the slamming of the dining room door to you, glaring at you up and down. "You certainly have soured his mood. And to think he was finally starting to enjoy life again" she commented as her fingers curled around the cup in her hand, sowing yet another dousing of blame into your troubled mind. Was she right? Had your unexpected return thrown Tommy's apparent newly founded happiness into chaos?

Sat at the living room bay window with a book resting in your hands you had little to no interest in, your eyes darted up from the pages to see your husband outside patting down one of his newest race horses on the freshly pruned grass. Tommy always had been stubborn about anything that would show the slightest ounce of vulnerability in him. So to see him occupying himself with a four-legged creature rather than any two-legged human that could neither, answer back, nor confront him came as no surprise.

Returning to the pages of your book, Tommy, who had chosen the most unusual of spots to inspect his horse, that just so happened to be in viewing distance of you, couldn't help but glance up every other second to get a quick glimpse of you all while internally berating himself for acting like some nervous teen boy psyching himself up to talk to his crush. With a heavy sigh leaving his throat, Tommy looked your way, throwing his cigarette onto the grass with determination to have his thoughts settled once and for all, and finally discuss what needed to be said. But just as you looked up to see Tommy striding towards you, his mustered up courage to have the conversation he had been avoiding took another blow as a car screeched around the corner, interrupting him once again.

" Where is she Tommy?" Polly demanded to know as Esme slammed the car door behind her and they both marched up to the house without the slightest of greetings to him.

" Fuck sake" he mumbled under his breath pointing to the house as you abruptly stood up, bracing yourself for what was to come while your eyes darted to your husband leading his horse away and the living room door seconds away from being thrown open.

" Esme..would you..bloody hell..." Polly grunted, as they pushed past one another through the door frame, when the Lee girl slipped through first and came running up to you. Stepping back your eyes widened, readying yourself for the inevitable, only to be quickly welcomed into a tight hug.

" Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" She said, wrapping her arms around you as your body relaxed into hers and tears began to streak your face.

" Es, I...I don't know. I'm so sorry" you cried as she cupped your cheeks, brushing your tears away with her thumbs whilst you internally scolded yourself for not opening up to the friend that had become a sister, and most cherished supporting hand throughout your pregnancy and labour.

" I would have come with you. God knows I need a bloody break" she stifled her tears with a laugh, pulling you back into her arms as you reached your hand out for Polly who was stood behind her, her trembling hands hovering over the smile beaming across her face.

" I told him, I told you all" Polly said with tears welling in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug, stroking the hair away from your face as you cried into her shoulder. " I checked, I made sure" she said closing her eyes as she clutched the black Madonna around her neck, silently thanking her ancestor's guidance. " Look at you" she said cupping your face as she pressed a longing kiss to your forehead, relief sweeping over her that you was still in one piece. "Come let's sit, before we all lose our footing" she said sniffing back her tears as she linked her arm into yours and led you to the two large cushioned sofas in the middle of the room.

" Where's William?" Esme asked as she looked around the grand sitting area only to see his toys scattered along the floor.

" With the Governess" you said, diverting your eyes as Polly shot Esme a sharp look, or rather, a warning.

" ABCs and 123s, he's two years old for god's sake. Should be out with the horses, in the mud and the meadows, not stuck between four walls. Never did me any harm" Esme huffed as she let her tired body and aching back from another baby weighing down her stomach fall into the feathered stuffed sofa. "What was Tommy thinking hiring that witch?"

" Esme!" Polly warned her as she looked back to you with a tight smile, holding your hand within her own. "Tommy hasn't been in his right mind for a long time"

" It's ok, I know they're together" you said biting, your bottom lip as you looked to the mantel place. Your pictures with him still sitting there neatly one by one. Memories stuck in a flash of a moment, cruelly tormenting you for what you had given up, and what you desperately longed for once again.

" Together? Whoever told you that?" Polly asked, furrowing her brow. " Love, as crude as it is, Tommy... Well I don't think there was ever any feelin..."

" It's ok Polly, It really is" you said cutting her off, trying to reassure yourself and subsequently avoid any further discussion on the topic that had consumed all your thoughts of late. " I burst their happy little bubble"

"Don't think the crate of whisky he has my John bring to his office door once a week, like some bloody delivery boy would agree with you" Esme said less than tactfully as Polly's head snapped to her. "What?" She said bewildered as to why Polly's eyes were suddenly boring into her very soul.

"Esme, why don't you go get us something to eat? Biscuits perhaps" Polly said as your sister-in-law furrowed her brow, crossing her arms.

" Biscuits?" Esme asked frowning, like it was the most bizarre, most confusing of questions to ask someone.

" Yes, bloody biscuits. And a bottle of whisky" she said as Esme stood up with a huff. "The good stuff, he keeps hidden in his office cabinet!" Polly called out as Esme waved her hand above her head mumbling to herself before shutting the door.

" Oh love" Polly said, moving her attention back to you with a heavy look of worry as she stared into your eyes, only sadness and shame to be found in them. "Why didn't you come to me?"

" I was scared you'd judge me Polly, that I couldn't cope when every other woman around me makes it look so easy" you sobbed as she pulled you into your arms.

" God knows there were moments when I wanted to run from it all, Esme too. The only difference between us is, you battled through when we buckled. You didn't have to love, we were here for you. We would have held you up" she said, holding you In front of her as she dabbed your tears from your cheeks. " Your pain is my pain. I would have walked the lonely path of motherhood with you, holding your hand all the way" she finished, cupping your cheeks when Esme walked in with a large cake on a polished silver tray, and one of the finest bottles of whisky Tommy possessed tucked safely under her arm.

" No biscuits, but I found another one of these fucking cakes again" Esme huffed from holding the heavy monstrosity in her hands.

" Give me the knife " Polly demanded with her hand out, her brow raised as she waited.

" Don't think I'm capable of cutting a bloody cake, Polly?"

"Esme" Polly's eyes narrowed in, their once mutual disdain for each other now a daily power play of Polly trying to assert herself over her nephews wild hearted wife.

"Shelby's. Stubborn, the lot of you" she said handing the knife over as she sent you a quick smile." So, you and Tommy had it out yet? " Esme asked, curious as to where you both stood with each other now you had returned.

"I think he tried to. At one point" you replied, recalling the brief moment in the dining room before the Governess barged in, interrupting his chances. " He won't forgive me, I know he wont"

" You focus on little William for now, Tommy can wait. It may do him so good to mull things over, before he says something pigheaded " Polly said handing you slice of cake. She and Esme may bash heads on many things, but the inherited trait of stubbornness was something she couldn't deny. And unfortunately for you, Tommy's headstrong, unyielding nature was the vain of the whole family's existence.

" I can't stomach anymore of it" Esme said, refusing her plate as she made a beeline for the whisky instead.

" God, me neither" Polly agreed, dropping the knife as she took Esme's glass tumbler from her.

" Why, what's wrong with it?" You asked inspecting it, noting it's familiarity to the cake you would often bake.

" Oh, you didn't know?" Polly smiled as she sat back in her chair, her eyes playfully glimmering from the amber liquid bouncing off the sides of the crystal glass in her hand " Every Saturday Tommy insists on that bloody fruit cake you used to bake that weighed more than a newborn baby on being made. He sends that poor old cook up and down the country in search of the ingredient Tommy insists is missing"

" He hated my fruit cake" you chuckled, looking down at the plate in your hand as the memory of happier times when you had become adamant on perfecting your baking skills before the birth of William on a reluctant Tommy flooded your thoughts.

"He still does. But it was a little part of you he couldn't part with" she winked at you as she poured herself another glass of whisky. " I'm starting to think he just enjoys watching the torment on Mr Giles face as the kitchen staff gather around to hear his weekly verdict every Saturday evening" Polly laughed into her drink at her nephews dry sense of fun, and the growing stockpile of cake enough to build a small house stored in the pantry." Why don't you bake him one?"

" Polly, I don't think a cake will fix this" you sighed, casting your eyes down to your lap when she cupped the side of your cheek, turning it to face her glistening hazel eyes.

"No. But it might make him smile. And that would be a sight"

As you said your goodbyes to Polly and Esme out in the grand foyer, grateful for the afternoon you had spent with them and their comforting words, Tommy stood watching by the front door, a pang of jealousy settling in his chest at everyone's ease with you like no time had passed, and mounting frustration with himself that he couldn't do the same.

" All is forgotten then, eh?" Tommy said in passing as the sound of the front door closed, his spite quickly finding a way to weave itself back into the iron cast wall he had slowly let down as he sulked off to his office once again, leaving you with his dampened mood for a fresh crate of whisky waiting for him.

One and a half years ago...

" Tommy this has to stop" Polly said, hovering over his desk, her nephew's head buried deep in a stack of maps, newspaper clippings and letters.

" Not now, Pol" Tommy replied, stubbing his cigarette out before returning to the large plan of Birmingham's canal system on his desk. Wide-eyed and restless. Polly was certain he hadn't slept in days, if not weeks.

" Enough Tommy!" She shouted, trying to snap him out of his madness as she snatched the large map away from him, her eyes pleading with him to give up, to rest.

" I will not fucking stop! Do you hear me?! I will not stop until her body is found!" He bellowed, pointing his finger into the desk as tears welled in his eyes and his face reddened with fury. "Just leave Polly...Go" he sighed, pinching the skin between his brows, his tired body unable to keep up with another argument with his Aunt, and his relentless search for you.

" There's no body to be found Thomas" Polly said as he walked around his desk grabbing the map from her hands before dropping into the sofa and pouring himself not a finger, not even two, but a whole glass of whisky. " Enough!" She said, marching over to him, throwing the remainder of the bottles contents into the fire place before crouching down in front of him. " You can't dull it forever Tommy. You have to listen to me, she's not passed over"

" Polly Stop" Tommy replied, burying his hands into his hair, scrapping his nails along his scalp at the stress tightening around his skull.

" You won't find anything"

" Polly stop, stop STOP!" Tommy's voice crescendoed until a sob of cries left his lips and his shoulders slouched over his body, drained of any rational thought left. " She's dead Pol" Tommy said looking up to his Aunt with an empty, lifeless stare as his hands fell down onto his thighs. Drunk, beaten down and hollow. Tommy had not an ounce of will to carry on. The second half of him was gone, and if it wasn't for William, he would have gladly welcomed the sweet release of death and joined you if it had brought him peace, and you back into his arms. "She's fucking dead..."

As you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets in search of a bottle of brandy you were certain was the missing ingredient from your fruit cake Tommy had ordered Mr Giles to bake every weekend in your absence, a loud crash quickly followed by your husband shouting every blasphemy known to man had you jumping away from the cupboards, and your own choice of profanities quickly leaving your lips.

" Shit!" you heard Tommy mumble as you slowly approached his office door to see him steadying himself with one hand on his desk as he poured the remaining contents of a bottle of whisky into a glass while blood dripped from an open cut on his hand. " What the fuck you looking at, eh?" Tommy said stumbling back and forth as he pointed at the large portrait of himself hung in his office. "Dickhead"

Just go to bed Tommy. You silently pleaded, watching him ease himself into his leather chair as he buried his head in his hand, replaying every moment from the day you had left to every hour he would spend trying to find your body over and over again in his head, letting his emotions fester inside, clinging onto them in an attempt to change their outcome. Watching him reach for another bottle of whisky, you opened the door and walked in, fearing he would drink until he passed out.

" Is everything ok? I heard a noise" You said, looking around his usually immaculate office stacked with paperwork and broken furniture.

" Fucking fantastic sweetheart " Tommy replied, trying to unscrew the cap of the bottle as you carefully walked around a smashed lamp on the ground you could only assume got in his way. " Fuck..." Tommy sighed, his injured hand rendering his attempts to open the large whisky bottle useless. Removing the satin belt around your dressing gown, you took his hand, gently wrapping the soft fabric around the deep gash across his knuckles as Tommy watched on in silence, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as your delicate touch stirred his unwanted emotions once again.

" There" you said letting go, waiting for him to say something, anything to break the palpable silence that had descended between you both as his eyes roamed down your body, and he opened mouth to say something pigheaded, exactly as his Aunt had predicted had he not been left alone to wallow in his own self pity.

" Do you wanna fuck?"

" Jesus Christ...get some sleep Tommy" you sighed, shaking your head as you turned for the door. He had every right to be angry at you, but this, this you didn't have to deal with. A drunken Tommy was an unreasonable man, and you now regrettably wished you had let him drink himself to sleep, and pass out on the floor.

" No? Thought it would stop me from hating you so much" he stated coldly as you came to a stop, his words piercing you as deep as he had intended them to.

" You already have someone that's been keeping your bed warm, our bed warm. Don't you Tommy?" You said, unable to keep your bitterness contained any longer as you turned to face him, and he came to face the outcome of his harsh words streaming down your cheeks.

" I shared our bed with nobody Y/N" Tommy pointed to you as he stood up, taking the large map he had mulled over for the past two years from his desk as he walked past you to the fire. There was no lie in his words. Never once had he tarnished the most intimate part of what was left of you. No matter what he had done to dull his grief in the past, every night Tommy would faithfully return to your martial bed unaccompanied, desperately holding onto the memory of your body wrapped warmly in his arms. " I thought you were dead" he said, the vows he had made to stay faithful unknowingly severed, crushing him more than any broken promise he had ever made.

" I know" you sobbed as you slowly approached and stood beside him, welcoming the comforting warmth from the fireplace as you looked into the towering orange flames and crackling wood burning below them.

" Do you know how long I looked for you?" He said, glancing up at you as you shook your head, feeling a surge of nervousness at where the conversation was suddenly going. "One year, six months and twenty two days" he said, throwing the folded document into the fire, watching the hours he had spent mapping each river, each stream and every canal burn into ash.

" Tommy...I'm so sorry. I should never have let you think that I was dead" you apologised, brushing your tears away as Tommy's stare stayed fixed on the last piece of paper melting away.

" Searched every forest, every train track until the only thing that was left was the waters, hoping your body hadn't been swept out to sea" his voice grew louder as his anger began to pump furiously beneath his skin.

" Tommy please..." you pleaded as your eyes welled with tears once again, trying to turn his stiffened frame to face you as his hand tightened around the intricately carved mantel, his knuckles turning opaque from the heat rapidly coursing through his veins.

"Polly put an end to it. Had my men stop me from leaving my own house for weeks on end. My own fucking house!" He continued, slamming his fist into the wood with a strong enough blow to split it, leaving a fractured line running permanently through the middle.

" Tom stop, please!" You begged him, trying to pull him away from the raging flames, from the raging fire within him.

" Enough!" he shouted as his hand came up to strike you when your eyes widened and he stopped himself, stumbling back in horror at the terror on your face. "Fuck!" He bellowed from the depths of his lungs, turning away to the door to hide the tears welling in his eyes and the shame on his face.

" Tommy, It's...it's ok. It's ok" You cried slowly approaching him, your body trembling with each step. " Let's sit down, and talk. Yeh?" Your shaky voice tried to reason with him as your hand brushed gently over his shoulder, coming to rest in the middle of his back.

" Now you want to talk, eh? he said, choking out a stifled breath as he brushed his tears away before turning to face your silent pleas to stay. "I'm afraid..." he sighed, bringing his hand up to stroke along your cheek as your fingers held tightly onto the front of his shirt came up to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "...I'm afraid you may be too late my darling" Tommy said scrunching his eyes closed as his lips hovered over yours, your sobs intensifying into hopeless cries before he pulled your hands off him and left without another word.

Fear of you leaving him again, fear of never being able to forgive you. Tommy Shelby, the most feared gangster in Birmingham, was in fact a man scared, a man so conflicted with the most vulnerable of feelings he had pushed down to the very depths of his heart for the past two years. Love. His broken heart still madly, still deeply in love with the one and only woman of his life. You.

PART FOUR

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[ponypuffle]

Hey! Hello! I saw that you have open requests and I would love to ask you something, Rainbow Dash x fem! reader, a pretty unicorn who is Rarity's cousin and went to Ponyville to visit her.

And Rainbow Dash is amazed when she sees her for the first time, a pretty and adorable Canterlot unicorn who likes to see pegasi fly since she has a fascination with wings, and Rainbow takes that point in her favor ;)

Pairing: Rainbow Dash x Fem!Reader

Word Count: idk im on my phone rn so i'll check when i have access to my computer l8r Warning(s): rainbow checks the reader out (idk if that's a warning but to be sure lol) A/N: tbh i gave rainbow too much rizz to the point that she managed to rizz me up from an rd enjoyer to rd simp 😔😔

As a pony who's lived her entire life in Canterlot, you knew for certain it didn't happen as often as most tourists expected, but to each their own. You certainly weren't about to stop them if it meant Canterlot's local businesses profited from their visits.

You loved Canterlot as much as the next pony, but Celestia, was it a lot. Every pony always had something to do and somewhere to be whether it be for business purposes or to simply go to a luxurious outing. Not to mention the overabundance of tourists who clambered to see the next big thing or perhaps their favorite "attraction"; a glimpse at the princess walking out onto her balcony.

All of this to say that you needed a break from Canterlot, even if it was for a moment. Every pony loved to say that Canterlot "has it all", but they all seemed to fail to consider the city's lack of peace. Hence why you reached out to family for help who then reached out to more family until you finally ended up in communications with your cousin, Rarity.

You remembered her well from the playdates and family gatherings you went to as little fillies. Unfortunately with how life goes, you'd lost touch with her. The last time you'd seen her as more than a child was years ago! Truth be told, you were excited to reunite with her. A whole week in Ponyville with your favorite cousin sounded like the perfect remedy to your Canterlot-ailment.

When the day came, you were the first to board the train and the first to exit. The moment you laid your eyes on your cousin, you rushed over with a wide grin. "Rarity! I'm so happy to see you again! Celestia, your mane is to die for! You have to tell me how you get it looking so gorgeous."

"Why, thank you, dear. We'll have plenty of time to discuss mane products soon enough." She giggled before directing your attention towards a pegasus and a little dragon. "In the meantime, these are my friends, Fluttershy and Spike."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, dear. I'm so sorry for not introducing myself sooner!" You quickly greeted the two with all the sweetness you could muster as if it would make up for your obliviousness.

The kindness was only reciprocated, much to your relief. Before you could delve into further conversation, Rarity cut in. "I'm sure you must be starving after the train ride. Why don't we go drop off your bags and we can all go out together? My treat."

"That sounds amazing." You agreed, only just realizing that you were too distracted by the trip to think of eating a proper breakfast.

"Splendid! Spike, would you be a dear and help our guest with her bags?" Rarity nodded towards the dragon.

Before you could protest, Spike had eagerly obeyed her request as he took the two travel bags from your magic that held them up. "Thank you, Spike." You smiled softly.

As the four of you walked through town, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Fluttershy's wings. "Have you ever thought of wearing wing accessories? I saw some amazing jeweled accessories back in Canterlot that I think would look divine on you." You commented.

Rarity overheard you, chiming in with her own praises. "The ones by Nimbus Shop?"

"Yes! The delicacy of the piece would look so darling on you, Fluttershy." You hummed.

Fluttershy blushed under your compliments. "Thank you. I'd love to try it out, but I'm afraid my line of work would only dirty the jewels before I could show them off."

Rarity nodded in agreement. "It's a shame, but I respect her passion for caring for those adorable little critters."

"Oh, perhaps I could pull a few strings and get you both invitations to this garden party out in Canterlot next month. Would that be reason enough to let me buy you those gorgeous wing accessories?" You suggested.

Rarity gasped. "A garden party? Goodness, could you really do that, dear?"

Your cousin's smile was infectious as she tried to hold in her excitement. "Of course! It's no problem at all. Besides, I don't know what kind of pony I'd be if I didn't get to see such beautiful wings enhanced by glittering jewels."

"Oh, that's so kind of you." Fluttershy was beginning to buzz with the same excitement, even it was toned down.

You turned your head to look back at the little dragon behind you. "Would you like to come to the garden party, too? I'm sure they could squeeze in cute baby dragon like you."

Spike began to stutter as if he was shocked that you'd bother to ask. "Are you sure you can get enough tickets?"

"Between just us," You hushed your voice down, "Two of the hosts owe me a huge favor."

Before anypony could respond, a gust of wind swept past you with a pound against the dirt just as you neared the front door of the Carousel Boutique. A blue coated pony with a rainbow mane stood with pride, her wings spread out to frame her form perfectly. The powerful mare found eye-contact with you, but she was quickly directed towards Rarity when she scolded her for the sudden landing.

While they spoke, you crouched down to Spike's level and whispered to him, "I'll just get you that ticket, yeah?"

"Thanks!" He whispered back. "C'mon, I'll show you your room before Rainbow tries to bother us."

Spike led the way around the ponies while you followed suit. You stared at Rainbow in amusement, letting your gaze glide over those strong wings.

Unbeknownst to you, the rainbow pegasus had checked you out, her eyes glazing over your form. You were far out of ear shot when Rarity noticed the way her friend looked at you, gasping loudly. "Rainbow Dash, don't you dare!"

"What? I'm not doing anything!" She held her hooves up, feigning innocence.

When both you and Spike came back out, the rainbow pony was still there with a disgruntled Rarity and a wide-eyed Fluttershy. The pegasus stepped into your view of your cousin with a smirk. She held her hoof out for a hoofshake to which you took. "Rainbow Dash, Ponyville's resident top flier and Wonderbolt."

"Wonderbolt?" Your jaw dropped as you held your hoof to your mouth in shock.

Rainbow chuckled in pride as she flexed her wings. "Yeah, what can I say? I'm just that awesome, y'know?"

Rarity rolled her eyes, sighing in disbelief as she cut in. "Come on, dear. Rainbow Dash is coming along for lunch with us."

Rarity herded you to her side, making sure she was between you and Rainbow, but that didn't stop Rainbow from trying to chat with you. "So, Rarity tells me your her cousin and you're visiting?" She called over through Rarity.

"Oh, yeah. I live over in Canterlot, but Rarity was so kind to let me stay with her as a vacation." You explained, but the separation made it a struggle, just as Rarity intended. She took the opportunity to keep you distracted with conversation, trying to keep Rainbow away. It wasn't that she didn't trust Rainbow, but she worried that if the relationship were to end, the relationship between you and Rarity would be severed, too.

But, Rainbow Dash was determined. When you made it to the restaurant, she dashed towards the seat right by you before Rarity could even touch the chair. "Lucky me, I get to sit by the new girl in town."

"You're lucky? I get to sit next to a Wonderbolt!" Your ears perked up with excitement. "I don't even remember the last time I got to watch a Wonderbolt show."

"You like the Wonderbolts?" Her voice was laced with happiness to know that you found interest in her work.

You nodded eagerly. "Of course! You guys are so talented. I just adore seeing your flight routines."

"Well, maybe I could get you a private showing, sweetheart." Rainbow nearly purred in a low voice, causing your cheeks to heat up at the nickname.

"Or!" Rarity chimed in. "You could take us all to the next performance, no?"

Rainbow snapped her head towards Rarity, glaring at her for disrupting her game. "Yeah... Or, that."

"Wow, that'd be amazing!" You couldn't hide your grin at the prospect of watching the Wonderbolts again.

Rainbow stretched the wing nearest to you out, letting it rest on your back. Your eyes drifted to her muscular wing, skin buzzing in delight at the feeling of her slick feathers. "Think that's amazing? You're getting a VIP ticket and a backstage pass, if you're into that."

Your eyes widened in shock, jaw dropping. You never expected in your wildest dreams you'd be offered such an opportunity. Rainbow had to reach out her hoof to get your mouth to close with a little chuckle. "I'm taking that as a 'yes', then?"

"Most definitely!" Your heart thudded against your chest.

Rainbow glanced at Rarity in triumph for a moment before she met your eyes again. "It's a plan then."

The next showing was thankfully only a few days after you returned from Ponyville. By the end of the week, you'd become good friends with the rest of Rarity's pals. You wanted to offer them to stay over, but your little Canterlot apartment was hardly enough for you and seven friends. Thankfully, Twilight had reassured you that she'd be able to get hotel rooms for everypony.

You'd made plans to meet up at a cafe you frequented to grab a cup of coffee and a few pastries before you went to the Wonderbolts show.

"Wow, I can't believe I've never been here." Twilight said as she sipped her coffee in utter bliss.

"Oh, it was opened a few years back, not long after your coronation actually." You replied, taking a bite of your chocolate croissant.

Rarity pouted. "I guess we've all been too busy to take the time to explore the finer details of Canterlot."

"I'd be happy to show you guys around!" You offered, eyes brightening. "The tourist spots are great, but I know all of Canterlot's hidden gems."

Pinkie Pie lit up. "That'd be amazing! Imagine how many tasty treats I've never even tried!"

The group laughed out loud, agreeing to join in on the insider tour for tomorrow. When breakfast was done, you all made your way to the Wonderbolts Stadium.

The VIP box was luxurious, plush seats in a shaded area that allowed for the perfect view of the performance. Your coat prickled along your legs in excitement at what was to come, and it wasn't for naught.

The moment the Wonderbolts made their entrance, you were entranced. You watched each well practiced maneuver, barely staying in your seat as you leaned in for more.

The show neared its end, much to your dismay, but it didn't stop you from yelling out with a cheer.

Applejack chuckled in amusement. "You sure do love them Wonderbolts, don't 'cha?"

You looked back with a grin. "How could I not? It's just so..." You tried to find the word until it finally clicked. "Exhilarating!"

"Then, let's go say hi to them." Twilight began to lead the way. "I'm sure they'd love to meet one of their biggest fans."

You hopped towards Twilight, nearly mirroring the same energy as Pinkie. At some point, Pinkie took charge with each bounce, so you eagerly followed close behind in anticipation. While you waited outside the locker room, waiting for the Wonderbolts to ready up, Pinkie was happy to tell you all about Rainbow Dash like her famous Sonic Rainboom.

When the doors opened, you could barely keep yourself composed. Your eyes were set on whoever was closest which just so happened to be Spitfire, the poster pony of the Wonderbolts.

"Hey, kid." Spitfire looked at you through her sunglasses. "I'm guessing your Rainbow's new friend?"

You nodded with a big smile, introducing yourself to her. "You have no idea how excited I am to meet you all."

Spitfire chuckled at your enthusiasm. "We've been waiting to meet you, too. Rainbow's been talking up a storm about you."

"She has?" You blushed, briefly glancing towards the rainbow pegasus.

"Non-stop. She tells me you're real interested in the Wonderbolts."

Part of you was glad Spitfire changed the topic, much too nervous to figure out whatever feelings came of the statement. "Yeah, but it's mostly just flying that I'm so intrigued by. All of you are so talented! I can't imagine how much work goes into your performances."

"A unicorn into flying? That's a new one for me." Spitfire commented, stretching out her wing when she noticed you staring at it in wonderment. "But, yeah, we work almost everyday. Wings like this don't come from nothing."

"I imagine so." You stared at the sleek feathers that made up her large wings. It wasn't long before the rest of the Wonderbolts team came to meet you, curious to see who Rainbow Dash was so interested in.

The next day, you went along with the tour as planned. With your friends following behind, you made it from destination to destination, making sure to have fun at each spot. You didn't have much of a plan, simply deciding where to go on a whim, but Pinkie had begged you to go to a little part of Canterlot for the end of the day. When it comes to Pinkie, how could you say no?

To your dismay, Rainbow had to leave early half way through the day. She told you she had Wonderbolts practice which you respected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss her presence. Regardless, the outing went smoothly and you still enjoyed yourself.

When you made it to your final stop made by you, Pinkie Pie led the group to the special location. As you neared further and further into the outskirts of Canterlot, you began to wonder where she wanted to go so badly. Every time you'd ask, she'd say something about how it's a surprise.

By the third time you asked, you decided to just trust her. As you reached the top of a grassy hill not too far from Canterlot, the sun had begun to set, creating a warm glow in the sky.

"Here we are!" Pinkie exclaimed.

You blinked, looking around in confusion. There was nothing in sight except nature. "Pinkie, why are we—"

A gust of wind flew above you, making you look up in the sky. Were those the Wonderbolts? You stood, watching the little performance with the same interest as the day before. You were beginning to wonder if it was somepony's birthday and you were simply not told.

[lowkeyrobin]

If you are still doing descendants may I suggest a hook x wizard reader

oooo sure!! ; hopefully I did this like... okay LMAO ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

JAMES HOOK ; wizardry

summary ; youre a spellcaster, he's a pirate

warnings ; language

word count ; 363

masterlist

James loved your little spellcasting powers, he found it so... intriguing. The fact that some little wand, and/or your hands, could summon little sparks and trails of magic. Magic, just at your fingertips, fascinated him.

Yes, he found Maleficent's and Hades' powers interesting, too. But you, you were something else, like a muse, the Diego Rivera to his Frida Kahlo.

He'd stare in awe when you used your magic, absolutely enamored.

He gave you that look he always gave you when you spelled Red and Chloe with a silencing spell, making them hush up while Uliana spoke and stole the recipe book from them. You look over at him, seeing that lovestruck gaze in his eyes. You roll your eyes playfully, lightly nudging him with your elbow.

"You're staring" You whisper

He raises his hand and hook in defense, fake frowning for a moment before you both turn back to look at Red and Chloe. They scratch and grab at their throats, unable to speak over Uliana.

You wave goodbye as you exit the office with the others, shooting a little remedy their way as you close the door behind you. James waits for you, grabbing your hand as you quickly maneuver through the halls together.

"That was very attractive" He mutters

"Yeah, I can tell"

he loves watching you flip through spellbooks and help you learn new spells

and he'll happily let you practice on him

"you should bake some more cookies, add a little love spell while you're at it, love"

"you realize that doesn't make sense, right?"

"hush"

he's literally never been so fascinated by magic nor people before you

your friends are always teasing you how you changed his brain chemistry or something

you often prank him as well

one in a million moment where he wants to kill you /lh

"agh! y/n, why is their a horde of spiders in my room???"

he'd rather be on your side when you're pranking people

he's always getting you to do simple little tasks for him when he's lazy, aka using telekinesis of sorts

like turning on/off light switches, grabbing things when he's caught up, stuff like that

[breelandwalker]

Strawberry Moon - June 21, 2024

Grab your baskets and your moon jars, witches - it's time for the Strawberry Moon!

Strawberry Moon 🍓

The Strawberry Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of June in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the ripening of those little red heart-shaped berries we find in so many summertime treats. Strawberries are typically ready to harvest beginning around the summer solstice, though this will vary depending on variety, planting times, and local weather. Sadly, the Strawberry Moon does not turn red or pink to match the berries.

Other European names for this moon include Honey Moon, Rose Moon, and Mead Moon. North American Indigenous names for the June moon include Blooming Moon (Anishinaabe), Green Corn Moon (Cherokee), and Hatching Moon (Cree).

This year's Strawberry Moon also roughly coincides with the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, with peak illumination occurring at 9:08pm EST on June 21st. (The solstice is occurring one day prior, on June 20th.)

What Does It Mean For Witches? 🍓

Full moons are excellent times for bringing wishes to fulfillment and plans to fruition, all the more so under one named after a prolific berry. This is an optimal time to make things happen!

Your intuition may be stronger than usual during this time, so pay attention to those little inklings and gut feelings that won't be ignored. They might be telling you something important. Dreams may also be more vivid, though not necessarily more accurate or revealing.

This is a time to explore things that catch your attention or pique your curiosity, and to let yourself be open to new ideas and new opportunities.

What Witchy Things Can We Do? 🍓

With a full moon ripening in the sky and the summer solstice upon us, it's time to prepare for a full bloom. Here's hoping you've been nurturing those plans and seeds of growth you planted in the spring, because they're about to start flowering and the way is clear to sow the next stage of your plans. What they will be and what new prospects the summer will bring is entirely up to you.

The full moon is always a good time to look ahead to the future. Think on the plans you have in process and let yourself dream of how things might turn out. If you're inclined to journaling, make a note of how things are going so far and how you hope they'll turn out. Pick your favorite divination method and do a reading for the month ahead. (Make sure you write that down too so you can check back later!)

This is a great time to go berry-picking or flower-gathering, so check your area for pick-your-own farms or farmer's markets with local produce. Have a picnic with friends or just enjoy a quiet afternoon with your own thoughts and a few favorite treats. Make a jar of sun tea or a sweet and summery berry salad. If you're partial to strawberries, indulge that sweet tooth!

Strawberries are also excellent ingredient in spells for love, beauty, fertility, and emotional healing. Create a charm for self-love or perhaps to attract a summer romance. Enchant your favorite makeup or skin care products with a glamour of confidence. Just as expectant mothers once carried strawberry leaves as a folk remedy for pregnancy pains, you can carry a clutch of them in your pocket to help heal a broken heart or assuage the pain of grief. A packet of strawberry leaves is also a potent good-luck charm. Snack on strawberries to bring fertile abundance into your life, whether you're looking for creativity or opportunity or perhaps hoping to grow your family this year.

Charge your crystals and spell jars and moon water under the light of Strawberry Moon to catch the energy of blooming flowers, ripening fruit, wishes coming true, and carefully-laid plans realized. (If you're planning to use it for any consumables, please make sure you're using fresh, potable drinking water rather than rain or runoff.)

Spend a little time reflecting on how your year has gone thus far. Try to focus on the things that have improved and how you've grown as a person and in your life journey. Reflect on your accomplishments and what you plan to do next. Take a moment to be unashamedly proud of yourself for everything you've done and for making it this far despite everything life throws at you.

Happy Strawberry Moon, witches! 🌕🍓

Further Reading:

Bree's Lunar Calendar Series

Bree's Secular Celebrations Series

The Full Moon of June: A Special Solstice Full Moon, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Strawberry Moon Meaning: The Spectacular Full Moon of June 2024, The Peculiar Brunette.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison.

Image Source - Pesto and Margaritas

(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[zablife]

Benny x Flower Child

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: A lovely anon's request to see Benny with a woman who loves and accepts him for who he is. Since it's the '60s, I thought the concept of Benny meeting a free spirited flower child fit really well.

🌼 At first the Vandals dismiss your relationship as a fling without much of a future. After all, how can two people who cherish their freedom as much as a biker and a hippie ever hope to hold each other down?

🌼 The first time Benny brings you to meet everyone, the wives note your lack of jealousy when someone flirts with your man and frankly find it suspicious how you live in your own little world of pleasure separate from Benny as your silvery voice floats above the campfire like a siren song meant to attract their men.

🌼 The guys in the club take to you with immediate enthusiasm, listening to your tales of carefree adventure as Benny looks on with a lovesick smile. They recognize the mischievous twinkle like Benny gets in his eye and they see your shared sense of wanderlust.

🌼 It comes as a shock to everyone when you don't move on over the next few weeks, accepting Kathy's offer to stay at her place so you can plant a little garden in the back yard and watch it grow.

🌼 Your role as a nurturer becomes even more apparent when the guys from the club come around sick or hurt. You always seem to have a home remedy available to heal them.

🌼 It becomes a running joke that Kathy's porch is the place for strays when dogs begin to appear alongside the men, all drawn to your empathetic spirit.

🌼 Benny too finds himself orbiting around the same unlikely center of domesticity, hunched over Kathy's ring stained coffee table as you read his tarot cards.

🌼 "You actually believe all that hocus pocus?" the guys heckle him through the screen door, but the goosebumps he feels prickling his arm as you reveal the lovers card time and time again answers the question for him, the temptation of his heart revealed long before he's able to speak the words.

🌼 Late at night when he's fitful, you remind him of his place and purpose, guiding him out onto the roof to gaze up at the stars. Huddled together under a blanket, chain smoking and pointing out constellations, you feel the tension leave his body as his restless mind shuts off.

🌼 Eventually this ritual takes on a new meaning, the vastness of the night sky reminding you both how much living you have to do. So you pack the same worn satchel you arrived with and Benny takes you away for places unknown.

🌼 You stop to say goodbye to Johnny, tho he says he doesn't know why you're leaving the safety of the home you've made with the Vandals. He couldn't possibly understand that from now on home is wherever you and Benny are together, wild and free.

[etheries1015]

Malleus X (Flirty and almost shameless) Reader - A...confession? Kind of?

warning: not really proof read, gender neutral reader

tw: None, maybe some second hand embarrassment BUAHA

"Prefect... I... I like you! I admire you, and I think you're so attractive and kind and you're always helping others-"

"I'm gonna stop you there. I'm flattered, I really am, and it takes a lot of courage to face your feelings like that. however I will let you know I am in fact in love with someone already, so I'm going to have to say no."

Malleus felt his heart drop into his stomach, he hadn't felt this way from such small words spoken by another person before. Before he knew it he found himself holding his breath, continuing to listen, hoping to hear you speak more in depth of this love you spoke fondly of. He continued to listen closely to the events transpiring before him, almost yearning for you to comfort his doubts.

"I-I see..." The other males voice said, cracking slightly, "well..I hope whoever they are...you're h-happy.." Another voice crack. He was defintently crying at this point. Foot steps scurried away from the dorm, as you let out a deep sigh and turned in the direction of the eavesdropper.

"Malleus, I can see your horns poking through the top of that pillar you 're attempting to hide behind. You're not very slick," you chuckled, to which Malleus revealed himself embarssingly from behind the pillar of the worn down building.

"...Apologies for eavesdropping, that's incredibly unbecoming of me. However, Who, might I ask, were you speaking about when you said you have someone else in your affections?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before looking up at him with a tilted head, a look of pure confusion before you said,

"Who else? Of course it's you, Tsunotaro."

Malleus could not hide the obvious shock at this revelation, green eyes wide and jaw slacked open as if he was trying to find the words to reply yet nothing was coming out for nothing felt right to say in this moment. You were so brazen to confess your affections were for the draconic prince of Briar Valley in such an uncouth and 'improper' way? Malleus almost laughed out loud at this.

You must have felt that something was off with your confession in the way Malleus reacted, and quickly tried to remedy yourself.

"Oh, but i'll make sure to show that my feelings are true! I just wanted you to know right away that nobody else has my sights, yeah?" You giggled nervously, "Okay, how about this, we pretend that absolutely none of this happened, and you meet me at ramshackle! I have a suprise for you!"

"...Shall I consider this an official invite?"

"Of course!" You smiled brightly, "I, (y/n), prefect of Ramshackle dorm hereby officially invite you, Malleus Draconia, to a date located tonight at 8PM in the Ramshackle garden. Got it?" The bell rang signifying it was time for classes to begin, you had walked away from the fae waving and calling out;

"Don't be late! Tonight, at 8PM! I'll be sad if you're not there!!"

Malleus watched as your lively figure skipped away, smiling to himself he couldn't help but burst out in laughter.

"How shameless of them!" He snickered to himself, "I shall indeed look forward to how tonight's events unfold."

Although incredibly straight forward and unable to hide yourself, it was truly one of the biggest charms Malleus was attracted to. You always knew how to surprise him, and he was certain you would be the one for him, blunt or otherwise.

~~~

slowly but surely getting through my 20+ drafts...some are in here from over a year ago bro...

[thebearer]

I have a violent mental image of coming home from a girls night after ~a few too many bevvies~ seeing ur hot ass man waiting at home and being like ive literally been wanting to fuck u all night and carmy is like uhh baby youre drunk, we absolutely arent doing that rn, can i offer you a snack perhaps and him dealing w his drunk and now emo girl abt how he wont touch u so he clearly doesnt think ur attractive😭

Carmen had a love hate relationship with your girl's night.

Not in the asshole-jagoff protective "I don't trust my girl" fragile masculinity way, but more so in the- and Carmen meant this in the nicest way, he did- that you were a mess when you were drunk.

He'd offered to pick you up, waiting on the curb outside the restaurant while you hugged and waved your friends goodbye before stumbling over to his car.

"Your Uber's here." Carmen grinned, leaning over to push the door open for you.

"Oh, he's a hot Uber driver, too." You grin, plopping into the seat. "Five stars already." You rasp, your lips hovering over his for a sloppy, sweet kiss.

Carmen's blushing, tasting the wine you drank on your tongue. He can feel the flush in your cheeks, the way your hand threads through the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you. You'd been drinking wine, so that meant Carmen was in for a night.

The whole ride home, you were handsy. Carmen nearly crashed the car when you palmed his dick unexpectedly through his jeans, grabbing his groin with a tiny smile.

"C'mon," Carmen's breath hitched, gripping the steering wheel hard. "Let go of me, Angel."

"Don't be mean t'me tonight, Carmy, I missed you." You whined, lip jutting dramatically, head falling against the headrest.

"'m not being mean." Carmen looked over at you pointedly, already seeing your lids droop, the small puffs of air passing out of your lips.

"You are." You grumbled, eyes still closed.

Carmen snorted lightly, but let you rest, slumped against the head rest while he fought his way through Chicago traffic and back to the apartment.

There, you'd seemed to gotten revamped even in your sleepy state. Carmen was helping you out of your clothes, you sprawled out on the bed, letting him shimmy your top off when you wrapped your legs around his hips, locking at the ankles and pushing on his back so he was flush against you.

Carmen grunted, hands bracing by your head to stop him while you laughed wildly. "Hey, Carmy." You smiled, glassy eyes dazzling up at him, bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

"What're you doin'?" Carmen couldn't help but laugh, small and breathy, but you were nothing if not persistent. A woman who knew what she wanted, and Carmen respected that.

"Carmy, I told you." You whined, hands wrapping around his neck. "I missed you tonight." Carmen just laughed. You pouted, head swimming while the room spun around you. "I wanna have sex, Carm."

Carmen snorted at your bluntness, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, trailing light kisses up your arm so you'd release your grip on him. "How about in the morning? When you're feelin'... better." Better was the last thing you'd be in the morning, Carmen knew that, which is why he set out the Advil already.

"You're no fun, Carm." You pouted dramatically, flopping over on your side, still naked from his failed attempts to put clothes on you.

"Baby, please, let me put your sleep clothes on-"

"-No, it's...it's fine, Carm. I'm hot anyways." You mutter, eyes drooping shut already, snuggled into the soft pillows.

Carmen rolled his eyes, wrestling you under the covers before slipping beside you. He had to turn the other way, away so his back was to yours, hoping and willing his erection to die down so he could sleep. He couldn't help how flustered he got, knowing you were naked next to him, hearing you beg to fuck him. And he would, he would fuck you in the morning, when you were sober and a little hungover, clinging to him and claiming his dick was the best hangover remedy there ever was. But for now, he was just happy you were home here, next to him and asleep.

[akutasoda]

ambrosial spices

synopsis - some opposites attract like a complimentary dish

includes - jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, more fluff, maybe ooc??, wc - 554

a/n: what is this? i don't know. new jiaoqiu scenes just got me thinking and there was someone talking about food and i immediately thought of this man-

some say opposites attract. a saying that has been repeated over and over, even by some may use to describe complementary pairs that seem oh so different yet work together perfectly. some might even say that opposites do attract but they drift away eventually, but you were confident that that wouldn't happen.

loving jiaoqiu was a task in itself. as pretty as the foxian was, he tended to be rather cunning and that didn't exactly go well with the smile that he always wore in public - it made him always seem rather shifty. rumor was that he even withdrew from his practice because of a broken heart, so gossipers among the yaoqing had a field day when your relationship with the chef became speculation.

you two were truly the definition of opposites. there was jiaoqiu who was sly and rather conceited, a chef that made redolent dishes in the means of providing healing. and then there was you, a content being that offered honeyed greetings to yaoqing residents, even helping to keep the yaoqing a pleasant place to live under merlin claws guidance.

your relationship was like adding something saccharine to a peppered dish. on the outside, it seemed the same but if you were to have a taste, one could note how the flavor subsided from a dancing flame to a simmering ember that coincided with it’s newly introduced sweetness.

and if somebody asked, you would say that jiaoqiu’s love was like a cup of warm spiced chai - the kind that usually comes very spicy but with personal preferences, can be milder and sweet. sure they may look at you weird but you knew jiaoqiu, and you knew your jiaoqiu.

you met the jiaoqiu who was a celebrated medicinal chef who was renowned for well seasoned remedies that left the patient with a piquant aftertaste for days. the one that was praised and celebrated for his skill even if he was completely insufferable sometimes - especially with patients who refused to take their medicine or complained about the spiciness of his dishes.

but you became much more acquaintanced with your jiaoqiu - the foxian who knew your food preferences like the back of his hand, even if they didn't align with his. you'd watch from the kitchen doorway - you knew how passionate he got when cooking and you most often would be shooed out of the kitchen - as he prepared a meal for you and you'd observe how he stared at the food horrified. you would witness him dramatically pinch his nose and sigh before he added a certain ingredient or two because all though, never in a thousand years, he would've imagined making such a dish, he did it for you.

jiaoqiu never complained to your face and if anything, he always still probably presented those dishes to you because he knew you liked them. sure he'd rather die than eat such a dish and he always added his preferences after he plated your meal, but nothing could take away from that smile of yours that made his day when you thanked him.

yes, you two had different preferences. yes, you two led different lives but at the end of the day, some would say that you only complimented the other perfectly, because you both knew that he wouldn't do that for anyone else.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn