#I haven't actually ever drawn him before

[castlefly]

Are you still into welcome home? If so can you draw Wally?

I TRIED

[eddiesfaerie]

who you let in

Summary: Jack has a soft spot. He didn't expect you to be the one to find it. (6.9k words) read on ao3 here

Pairing: Jack Abbot x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, porn with plot (the storyteller within me can't help it), unspecified age gap, hurt/comfort for both of them LOL, canon typical gore? medical stuff? idk, panic attacks, trauma, angst, power dynamics (reader's a med student), suicidal ideation, Jack being flustered, oral (m receiving because he needs it), big dick Jack, fingering, rushed sex despite how long this fic is i'm sorry, unprotected PIV sex, Jack's sort of a soft dom, semi-public sex, praise kink, competency kink, lots of fleshy bodily words in here to describe lust idk

AAAAA i just spent all day writing this yes i'm embarrassed <3 also haven't posted my writing in like actual years at this point.... anyways be nice to me

It’s unlike you, Jack thinks to himself, to look so out of it. 

GSW to the chest. A young girl in her early twenties maybe. She’s lost a lot of blood. Her blonde hair somehow already matted with it, so much so that she could pass as a natural brunette. It’s gone dark with oxygen and coagulation. 

Your team huddles around her, as do the other units around the dozens and dozens of gurneys being brought in one after the other, unrelenting and without promise to end soon. 

All protocols you’ve learned in the last year are out the window. Disregarded for the mass casualty event that was PittFest. None of the residents had ever seen anything like this, you’d never seen anything like this. This was the most action you’d ever witnessed and suddenly you felt like there was a balloon in your own chest, compressing air flow or blood flow or something to your head. 

All the blood, the smell of metal inescapable no matter which section of the ER you were suddenly rushed to. 

Your knees go weak, they shake, your hands shake. Everything’s wrong- 

“She’s going white Abbot pull her out.” 

You hear your attending huff from right behind you before his hand finds your bicep, curling around it and pulling you from where you leaned over the patient. You can hardly protest, your mind elsewhere and your feet blindly follow Dr Abbot who leads you to the family room. 

“Robby I need you to cover over on the GSW to the chest for a sec.” He calls over, his voice ringing in your ears, your mind trying to focus on one single thing but everything’s registering all at once. His hand on your arm, all the beeping, the cries of agony, tubes being intubated and balloons being puffed into chests. It all seems a lot further away when Abbot closes the door. 

You never thought you were particularly his favourite. You’re much younger and typically too upbeat. You clash naturally, he’s not drawn to you and you’re not drawn to him.

Dr Abbot is unafraid of correcting you in front of your peers. After a year now of him being your attending you’ve become familiar with his ways but that doesn’t mean you’re any more appreciative of the public humiliations.

There’s something about these older ex military men, the ones who joined too young and have been in the system ever since, climbing up and up the ranks, hardening at each level to a point where disassociation is expected. Hold it in, hold it together. There’s is no I in team. All for one and one for all. All that bullshit. 

Dr Abbot wasn’t really that guy to a T but hell was he uncrackable, unshakeable, hard as stone. No doubt it’s helped him here in the ER, you’ve never seen someone as laser focused and capable as Dr Abbot. It’s almost effortless for him, it seems. Like he doesn’t have to think twice about anything. His confidence is unmatched and you’d always admired that, no matter how much you thought he disliked you. So yeah it was kind of surprising when he was the one to pull you away for a time out. 

Jack never meant to become so attuned to you. He didn’t do it on purpose. He blames it on being your attending for a while now, he’s worked with you the closet over this past year and he knows how you work, how you operate. He didn’t mean to but it happened. He feels like he can read you like an open book, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, on your face. You’ve never been one to conceal how you were feeling, unlike him. So when you stopped talking, stopped making little remarks and little jokes, nearly frozen and clearly dissociating, he knew what was happening long before the resident called for you to be pulled out. He wanted to give you a moment to bounce back as you usually do. 

Dr Abbot closes the curtain to the family room, shutting the door. He turns around and finds you still awkwardly standing there, eyes far off, elsewhere. He had expected you to take a seat immediately, he doesn’t know what you’re still doing up considering how close you look to collapsing. 

“S-sorry I don’t know what’s happening, I-” You stammer, embarrassed yet not in control of whatever’s taking over your mind and body. 

“Hey, hey stay with me, kid. Don’t go to that place.”

Abbot puts his hand softly on the middle of your back, guiding you to the chair. You sit down reluctantly, unable to move your body in a coordinated way for some reason. He kneels in front of you, groaning as he goes down and his knees cracking. 

“Listen, don’t tell anyone but I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks, okay?”

“Is that- is that what’s happening?” You ask dumbly, squeezing your eyes shut. You suddenly feel dizzy. Not enough oxygen to the brain.

“How does your chest feel? Can you breathe?” 

“I feel like I can’t.” 

“Then yeah, that’s what’s happening.” 

Your lip wobbles despite how much you’re still trying to hold it together, that much Abbot can tell. You’re fighting like hell against this panic attack which might only threaten to make things worse. He grabs your hand in his, squeezing lightly. You’re barely able to return it. 

“What are five things you can see?”

“W-What?” You sniffle.

“Tell me five things you can see, come on.” He squeezes your hand again, reassuringly. 

You try to take a deep breath but your diaphragm spasms and it comes in all shaky, causing you to hiccup like a child. 

“Y-you.”

Against all odds, Dr Abbot smiles. Incredibly small but you see it. 

“That’s right. What else?”

You try to take a deep breath again. “Uh, the paintings on the wall.”

Abbot nods. You continue. 

“The curtains. The chairs. The door.”

“Good. That’s good. What about four things you can touch?”

“Your hand.” You say most obviously, since he’s still holding your clammy hand in his. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so shaken up. 

Dr Abbot squeezes your hand again and this time you squeeze back, a silent thank you of sorts. 

“Um, my scrubs, my hair on my neck, the wind from the fan.” 

“Okay, now three things you can hear.” 

“Your voice.” Dr Abbot chuckles, like he was expecting it. 

“Sure.” He nods.

“You’re breathing.” You take a deep breath now, as if it reminded you. Abbot breathes deeply with you. 

You try to motion lazily to the door, “The doctors outside, I can hear them talking.”

“That’s right, and they’re being pretty loud, aren't they?” He tries to joke, to lighten the mood. 

You nod your head, yeah. 

“What about two things you can smell?”

You go to open your mouth but Abbot cuts you off again. 

“And don’t say me, we’re about an hour into this shift and I know I’m not smelling too pretty right now.” 

You laugh, you actually giggle a bit, albeit a bit breathless, your body still trying to catch up to your more relaxed mind. Jack smiles. 

“I can smell metal and disinfectant.” 

“Okay and one thing you can taste.” 

Your cheeks burn a bit. You know it doesn’t mean anything but when you started each sentence with something relating to him… You can’t help but think. 

“My stale gum.” 

Jack chuckles a bit, shaking his head. What were you doing with mouth in your gum. It’s not allowed on shift but everything had started so suddenly you hadn’t had a moment to toss it and you got scared on choking on it if you swallowed it. 

Abbot clicks his tongue at you in disapproval, holding out his open hand near your mouth. You look at him confused, but he just gestures to his outreached hand. 

“Spit it out, let’s go get you a new one, hmm?” 

Your face burns again, but you do what he says for some reason. 

Because he asked. 

He closes his palm around your gum for a moment before easily tossing it into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

Dr Abbot stands back up, knees cracking again. He helps you up, holding your elbows in each of his hands. You’re still a little wobbly, weak in the knees from your body’s sudden breakdown. You haven’t yet regained all your strength. 

You try to steady yourself, your hands gripping his forearms, trying to concentrate on the strength of him holding you up. 

You suddenly feel oddly close to him. Not just physically seeing as how close you two are standing but in the air, it feels like something’s shifted, like something’s irreparably been changed between you two. He’s just seen you at your most vulnerable, talked you through your first panic attack and even admitted to having experienced them himself. How many people in the ER can say they know that much about Dr Jack Abbot. 

Maybe you’re just over analyzing what’s transpired. 

“How you feeling?” His voice sounds out and you realize you had your eyes squeezed shut, when you open them Jack’s peering down at you, trying to give you the softest look he can muster. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Yeah? You don’t have to be.” You shake your head no. 

“No, no I’m good. Promise.”

“I’ve got my best med student back?”

You can’t help but look at him quizzically, laughing a little. 

“I don’t think I’m your best med student but sure, I’m back.” 

“Come on, take the compliment.” He quips and it surprises you. You didn’t think he’d press your objections. 

“I actually thought you-” Hated me, you want to say.

“I know.”

Oh. 

“I know I’m hard on you. But I only do it because I know you can take it. I think it makes you better.”

Your lips go into a hard line, you nod. Right….

“I mean, it doesn’t hurt to be told I’m doing good every now and then. I do think I’m tough, you’re right, but I don’t know… I like this side of you.” You admit before you can stop yourself. 

Now it’s Jack’s turn to blush. His cheeks go red in that boyish way and it blossoms all the way to the tips of his ears. Your heart leaps a bit. 

If you weren’t back to yourself before, you were now. You’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing even though you’ve both let go of each other. It was sobering. 

“Alright kid, as long as you don’t tell anyone.” He winks. 

You burn. 

“Promise.”

/

Things did, in fact, change after that.

Dr Abbot pulls you for huddles, just you and him now for feedback, no longer doing it in front of the other med students, doctors or attendees.

You stand closer to him, he stands closer to you in general. 

He’s not afraid to grab your hand and stop you from doing something. Or start something. The amount of times he’s guided you through a procedure you’d never done before with his steady hadn’t engulfing yours, guiding a blade smoothly through a patients skin or a thin tube through an incredibly small incision. 

You wondered if anyone noticed. If anyone had become attune to the fact that you followed each other around like each other’s shadows. Never one without the other. You could see Princess and Perlah whispering to each other whenever you stood close to Dr Abbot, you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that at least someone noticed how he’d picked you as his favourite and warmed up to you. It made you feel special, all girlish and giggly even though it absolutely shouldn’t. 

A new unusual sound had started to fill the ER. Jack Abbot’s laughter, even quiet giggles fuelled by none other than you. Not even Robby, once his rival now best friend in the ER, could get that sound out of him as often as you do. 

Jack gets you sandwiches, juice boxes from the cafeteria when you look particularly out of it or if the moment granted a quick escape for food. He’d find a chocolate bar or anything to perk you up on days where you weren’t doing so hot, or had a particularly anguishing patient. Death was inescapable in the ER, everyone knew that but not everyone handled it well, it didn’t matter how well versed or experienced you were in the medical industry. 

Not even Jack himself. 

The night shift was now coming to a close, meaning the clock was close to striking 7am. That awkward time before the day shift shows up and the night team goes home to sleep through the day, all to start again in 12 hours. 

It was weird working in the off hours, you felt like a vampire or a bat, you thought to yourself as you climbed the steps to the roof, trying to find Jack. You knew him well now, and you know where he goes to run away when he can’t handle the weight of the shift anymore. 

You open the door, it creaked open annoyingly loud, announcing you rather ungraciously. 

Jack drops his head low at the sound of the door opening. He knew it was you coming to find him. He leans back against the railing behind him. 

“What are you doing up here?” He asks, calling out to you without turning his head. The wind carries the sound of his voice to you. 

The sun is threatening to come up over the city line, light only beginning to spill upwards into the sky, painting the clouds all pretty shades of light blue, pink and orange. You struggle to take in the beauty due to the night that just transpired. 

The vet hit and run. It was a hard one on Jack. He’d known guys like that in the military. They seemed untouchable, surviving tour after tour. It was never easy to watch one go, especially the ones that made it home and get taken out in some seemingly avoidable way. 

Some church bell tolls in the distance. You approach him, unsure how to answer what you’re doing up here. Checking on you, wanting to make sure you’re okay, everyone’s worried but the reality was no one batted an eye at him escaping after spending the last two hours coding this guy into the system. This was how Jack operated. Disassociate, dissociate until he couldn’t anymore and his feet carried him up to the roof. Contemplating. 

So you don’t say anything, you just stand behind him. 

Jack’s skin looks golden up here. The light passing through his curls, catching the greys. Your heart tightens. 

“It’s always a rough way to end the night.” You offer, unsure of what else to say. 

“I must’ve had a reason at one time to keep coming back but… I can’t think of it right now.” Jack grips onto the railing, leaning forward and looking down below him. 

You instinctively reach out to him, your hand going for his bicep, it’s closest to you. Despite the cool early morning air, his skin was still hot to the touch, still coming down from what had just gone down in the ER room. 

“Jack…” You can’t help but sigh, silently pleading with him to stop. 

His head turns, dark eyes meeting yours. God he looks so sad, a man worn down. 

And you realize you’ve never called him by just his name. Just Jack. 

“D-Dr Abbot, I mean- sorry.” 

He doesn’t correct you. He doesn’t particularly care right now. And the way you said it makes his heart tight like your hand is on his arm. Palms clammy with being so high up and so close to a ledge. You never liked heights and you hate that he’s always flirted with them. 

He clicks his tongue, sighing before crouching down and reeling himself back over to your side of the railing. You sigh in relief, you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath. 

Jack is completely distraught. He looks wrecked, broken. 

Your hand still on his arm, he comes to face you, standing so close but you can’t find it in you to step away from him, not when he’s like this. 

Jack drops his forehead to your shoulder, you try not to freeze up at the sudden extreme closeness.

“Are you okay?” You ask dumbly, voice gone quiet because of how close he is. Your lips ghost over the shell of his ear, plush flesh on soft cartilage. Jack shivers, turning his head slightly and his nose pushes into your neck. 

What else is there to say to such a quiet man, lost in his own solitude of reflection. 

“No.” He says simply, plainly. 

Your heart aches for him. 

Your hand is still on his arm, you flatten it and trail it up to his shoulder, squeezing him there. 

He presses himself closer to you. You hold your breath, your heart threatening to leap up out of your throat. You swear he must feel it beating through his own chest. You think you can feel his. 

He trails his nose along your neck, up your ear. You can feel that subtle white beard that carves the angles of his face so sharply, so perfectly, colour so soft and white it nearly blends into his skin seamlessly. They catch at your skin in that scratchy way and its almost too much. 

His hands, they move and suddenly they’re on your waist, sliding around the circumference of you until he’s enveloped you in his strong arms. You can feel how sturdy he is, how solid and strong from years of exertion and force and yet you feel like you could blow away at any moment. This cannot be real. You can smell his hair, the remnants of his cologne peaking through the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant. You can smell him. 

He knows this shouldn’t really be happening. You both do. You’re both very much aware of that fact. Even though its just a hug its just a hug. Jack had been aware of it ever since that day in the family room when he first worried about you. Because that’s what friends do… they worry about each other, right? Friends….

Jack lets his nose travel higher, along your hairline behind your ear, relishing in the closeness of  another living, breathing human being. Warm flesh against flesh, closeness of muscles and organs. Hearts, beating. When was the last time this happened? When was the last time he let his walls down like this? You both wondered. 

“I’m sorry.” He offers lamely, voice quiet and matching yours. He tries to pull away from you but his body doesn’t get the memo, he stills clings to you. He’s afraid of what would happen if he were to let go now. Surely he’d crumble into nothing off this roof. 

He moves his head, nose against your cheek as your hands move to his chest, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your palms. You don’t want him away either. You need him close, suddenly very close. Despite your breathlessness at the closeness, you think you’d stop breathing if he were to pull away now. You wouldn’t bear it. 

You shake your head no, “Don’t be.” You reassure him, voice still quiet. 

Something posses you and you nudge your nose with his, Jack sighs loudly, arms tightening around you and you sigh too. Your mouth opens in an innocent way, trying to get more oxygen to your brain. But you can feel his breath on yours, feel it fanning against your lips and you lean closer, pushing your nose into his again and he has to use every iota of strength within him to not lunge into you. 

This shouldn’t be happening, he reiterates to himself. All the alarms are going off in his head. He shouldn’t be touching you like this, he shouldn’t have grabbed you, you shouldn’t be letting him. You could both get in serious trouble for this. 

But you fist at his shirt, hands trembling against his chest, feeling him, muscles under supple flesh. Your lips part, small breath fanning against his lips and he breaks. He’s just a man. 

Jack presses his open mouth to yours, and you let him again for a reason he doesn’t quite understand. It’s sloppy in a desperate way, passionate and sad. You could cry if you weren’t so wrapped up in the feel of being completely encompassed by him, his soft lips on yours. 

You open your mouth wider, your hands moving from his chest to wrap your arms completely around his neck, hauling his body into yours as if you couldn’t get any closer. You wanted to meld into him. Bone fusing to bone. You let your tongue poke out and suddenly he’s right there with you, his tongue going as far into your mouth as it possibly can, trying to get to every inch of you. Jack whines and you burn at the pathetic sound. A grown man, whimpering for you. Your knees threaten to buckle. 

His body flush with yours, you can’t help but feel how his body reacts to you. Hard and solid against your hip, your leg as your bodies writhe against the other, pleading to get closer. 

“Jack,” you whimper into his mouth, unsure, testing. 

Jack lets his lips travel to the corner of your mouth, kissing every inch of you that he possibly can, your teeth as you say his name, your cheek, earlobe, the spot underneath your ear. 

“Tell me to stop.” He groans, hands moving back to their spot on your waist, trailing down to your hips where he grinds you against him, making that aching part of him known. 

You whimper again, eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head like the sun threatens to come over that edge and catch you both where you ought not to be. 

“I don’t want you to stop.” You admit, face burning even though you’re both as debauched and pathetic sounding as the other.

Boldly, you let one hand travel down from his neck, down his body to softly touch in between his legs, feeling where he’s hard, aching between his legs. He groans again, this time absolutely pained, his forehead dropping to yours. 

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” He admits, like you both don’t know that already. He’s practically begging you to give him a reason to stop this now, even though he knows he’s already too far gone to do anything at this point. You’re too warm, too welcoming and soft and willing. Salvation. 

“Especially not here.” You manage to laugh a little. Suddenly you pull away from Jack and he thinks that’s it, you’re calling it. His instincts propel him to check his watch to check the time. T.O.D. Time of death. He’s being dramatic. 

You pull him to the opening of the stairwell, creaking open that squeaky door once again and you lightly press him against the wall furthest away from the stairs.

It’s an enclosed space, a room up on the roof. You have to open another door to get to the stairs which lead all the way down to the ER, blocked by another set of doors. If someone were to go into the stairway, you’d hear them from a mile away. At least that’s what you hoped.

Jack let’s you move him, lets you press your body against his and kiss his tanned, freckled neck. Your hand finds its spot on his crotch, feeling him through his pants. God he hasn’t gone down an inch. He feels huge, painfully hard. You can’t believe you’re feeling him like this. You can’t believe The Jack Abbot is letting this happen, you can’t believe he wants it. With you. 

“Can I?” You ask, already lowering yourself to your knees. 

Jack just looks at you in complete and utter disbelief, mouth agape as he watches you get down on your knees, pressing your face to his clothed dick, kissing him through the fabric. Kill me now, he thinks. If anyone were to find you both like this… 

He feels like a dirty old man as you pull his cock from his pants, watching it spring up and slap his belly with wide eyes, like you need it, like you’re suddenly starving. 

His cock is huge. You don’t know what you expected but it wasn’t this. You try not to look frightened by it, by the prospect of shoving it into your mouth and hopefully, your cunt. 

He’s your attendee, you try not to think about that. Try not to think about how you’re his subordinate and he’s so much older than you, experienced, well versed. This is all completely wrong, incredibly fucked up but fuck if it doesn’t turn the both of you on just a little more in the worst way. 

His dick is hot in your hand, skin like silk and you salivate at the pure sight of it. You look up at him, his face flushed all the way up to his ears and down to what you can see of his chest poking out through the small v in his shirt. Skin on fire. 

You give him a sort of inquisitive look and he realizes he never answered you. You looking up at him with those big, needy eyes. He can only bring himself to nod his head, at a lost for words. 

You smile up at him, hand already gliding up and down his thick length. Jack hisses at the near foreign sensation, in this moment he can’t bring himself to remember the last time this happened, let alone a time when it wasn’t his own hand. Yours is much smaller, more delicate than his, you can barely wrap it around the entirety of him and suddenly he feels dizzy. 

You lean forward, kissing the tip of him and he squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, they open and close into fists at his sides. God does he want to touch you, to have you let him take what he wants but he’s afraid. Afraid of over stepping, afraid of scaring you. 

Suddenly you’re opening your mouth and kissing at the head of him, licking at his slit, collecting whatever’s pooled there and humming to yourself at the taste. You’re worried you’ll become addicted to this.

More of him slides into your mouth, all the way until he’s hitting the back of your throat. Suddenly his hands are flying to the side of your head, holding you there. His eyes open and he looks down at you, eyes intense, mouth set into a hardline like he’s barely hanging by a thread. You make eye contact with him and he groans, loud. You’ve only ever seen him like this leaned over a patient, intense focus, blinders on to anything except the task at hand. But this time its you. Your pussy throbs. 

Jack let’s himself thrust into your mouth a couple of times, eyes squeezed shut again, head leaned back against the wall behind him in complete surrender to you and your mouth. He says your name so broken, like its the only thing he can remember, the only thing keeping him grounded. 

You wonder if he’ll let you fuck him. 

A few more thrusts and suddenly Jack is pulling you off of him, looking back down at you again and hauling you back up to your feet. You give him the saddest eyes and he swears his heart breaks. 

“I’m- I was gonna cum if you kept that up.” He sort of laughs to himself. Jack’s never felt more out of practice than he does now, pants down around his ankles, cock heavy and begging still in your hand, and a young, pretty girl looking at him with wet eyes, hungry for him. 

What did he do in a past life to deserve this? 

“That was kind of the idea.” You smile, bitting your lip and your hand continues to move up and down on his aching length. 

Back face to face now, Jack can’t believe he has you like this, lips plump and swollen with exertion and slick with spit. Your eyes are dark with greed, hunger for something else. He never though this would happen, not between the two of you. Not that he ever explicitly thought about it but there were moments of weakness. Moments where he let his mind wander as he held your hand in his, guiding you through a procedure, noticing your body and its proximity, its warmth, that girlish smell you carry around you. You’ve always been intoxicating, a temptation just begging to be indulged in. Had he mentioned how wrong he thought all of this was?

“Jack?” You ask, pulling him out of this thoughts. 

“Hmmm?” He basically slurs, distracted by the continuous movements of your hand on his cock, it was on the verge of turning painful. 

“I asked you if you’re gonna fuck me.” You ask, devilish grin plastered on your face like you’re the cat who got the fucking cream. Or is at least trying to.

Jack lets out a broken laugh, voice cracking from your particularly harsh grip on him. 

“Is that- Is that what you came up to the roof for?” He jokes but suddenly you think he’s being serious. 

You worry thats all you thought of him, of this. A quick fuck, a need for release, a need to forget what happened tonight. 

“No, Jack that’s not- I swear-” You struggle to find your words. 

Jack smiles at you, it alleviates some of your worries. His hand moves and finds the waist band of your pants, he shoves it down until he’s cupping your sex. You gasp, his hand hot, feeling your hotter core and whats embarrassingly seeped out of you ever since you pulled him from the railing. 

Jack clicks his tongue at you, like he always does. 

“Yeah, I bet you want me to fuck you, alright. You’re soaking for it.” 

Oh fuck. 

You whimper, leaning easy into his touch, letting him feel you. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his fingers gliding easy through your glossy folds, playing around in the mess you made. Its embarrassing. So much so that you almost miss him calling you baby. 

Jack doesn’t fight the temptation long, no matter how much he wants to tease you about it. His two fingers find your hole and push in steadily, afraid to hurt you. You gasp, body falling into his, letting him hold you with his other arm. Your hand on his cock stutters but is determined to keep pleasuring him. 

You moan when he pushes his fingers all the way in, crooking them to press up against that spongey spot inside of you, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. 

“Fuck-” You choke, head heavy on his shoulder, your lips grazing his neck as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, switching it up between that and toying with that fucking spot inside of you. 

“Jack, I’m-”

“Oh I bet you are.” He chides and you burn. 

This could have been so humiliating if you chose it to be. How quickly you folded for him, how badly and desperately you needed him. As if he hadn’t folded just as quickly, if not faster, for you. 

Suddenly his fingers are ripped from your core and he’s ripping your pants down along with your underwear. You step out of them quickly, letting him manhandle you around to get you were you wants you. 

“Look at you listening to me so easily now.” Jack remarks, turning you around and pushing you up against the wall. 

“I always listen to you.” You admit, voice breathless and breaking and sounding completely debauched. 

You feel him step in to your space, you arch your back instinctively and Jack basically purrs all soft for you. You feel the head of his cock at your entrance, threatening your folds. You whimper, shiver. You try to push into him but his hand flies to your neck, holding you still where you are. 

He leans over your back, rucking your shirt up with the hand that was holding his dick. He hadn’t meant for this to happen like this, all dirty and rushed and in his fucking workplace. He thinks about the rest of you, hidden under your scrubs, how he’d kiss every inch. Maybe that was for another time. Hopefully. 

“I know you do.” He praises, kissing the back of your neck and pushing into cunt in the same breath. You both groan way too loudly, pure relief coming over the both of you. 

Jack breaches you slowly, he knows he’s big. He’s not even being any type of way about it, he just knows its a lot from past…. flings. But God do you take him like a champ. You push your hips back into his, needing him to fill you completely you’re fucking whimpering for it. 

But Jack’s still got his hold on you, pinning you down so he can work you onto his cock slowly, at his own pace. He’s in control here. 

You both moan again once he reaches the end of you, fully seated in your velvety pussy. His head falls onto your back, his arms wrapping around you to hold you to him, anything to get closer. You scramble to gain purchase on anything, the wall, his strong arms, anything. You feel dizzy, you feel full, you feel drunk. 

“Always so good for me. Such a good girl” He moans, hips pulling back to just thrust back in punishingly. It punches a moan out from your gut. 

You nod your head, unable to speak. I try to be good, I try to be.

Jack doesn’t wait, this has to be quick anyways, you both have been gone for far too long, he’s suddenly reminded that the day shift will be showing up in a matter of minutes and God knows Robby will be looking for him up here. His dick throbs at the thought of being caught balls deep inside of you, his little med student. 

He pulls you back by the ass to meet his hips, pumping himself in and out of your creamy pussy at a brutal pace, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. He says your name, you’ve never heard him say a name quite like that and it breaks you. 

“I-Is this good?” He asks, trying to be sexy but it comes out broken, desperate and pathetic.

You nod your head frantically again, trying to turn your head to look at him and Jack’s heart soars at the sight. Your pupils blown black, eyes big and watery from the feel of his cock filling you up to the absolute brim, hair matted to your sweaty forehead. He wants to lick the sweat from you. Next time, next time. 

Jack leans closer, kissing you on the open mouth and you moan debauchedly into him. As he moved closer to you to keep kissing you it pushed his cock that much further into you, his hips grinding into your ass and his cock into the absolute end of you. You can barely keep yourself standing, you’re thankful for Jack’s strength keeping you up, you could’ve had both feet off the ground and you’d have no idea. 

His cock pummels into you, moan after moan being punched from your chest, your gut, the deepest part of you. 

You whimper into his mouth at his sweet kisses in contrast with his harsh thrusts, it was enough to make your head spin, your pussy clench, threatening to burst. 

“Tell me it’s good, need you to say it for me.” 

“S-So good, Jack. You feel-”

“Yeah?” 

You cry, you think a lone tear falls from your eye and maybe Jack kisses it away or licks it but his cock doesn’t stop and suddenly you’re cumming, completely surrendering your body to his. You shudder and twitch and your pussy squeezes his dick so tight he nearly sees stars, it takes everything in him to not blow his load inside of you in that instant. 

That would be bad, that would be really bad, that would be messy and irresponsible and fuck he’s not wearing a condom how could you both have been so stupid and drunk off each other to not grab a condom. It’s not like you have them in your scrubs but theres a dispenser in the bathroom and - 

“Jack please,” You beg, voice so small and worn out. Your hand reaches out behind you, grabbing for him and suddenly he’s pulled back to the very real reality where he is fucking the shit out of you and he’s about to cum about it. 

“Please what?” He asks, needing to hear you say it. 

“Need you- need you to cum for me. Please Jack.” 

Fuck, he doesn’t want this to be over, he needs this to go on forever, needs you to suddenly be his salvation, he’s not quite sure how he’s gone on this long without you but he knows he can’t go forward without it. 

Jack’s body tenses, his cock somehow gets impossibly harder, you feel it thicken inside of you and you moan again, another orgasm threatening to rip through you. 

But suddenly he’s pulling himself out of your greedy hole, his voice breaking as he spills himself onto the concrete floor beneath the both of you. Your cunt pulses, desperate to have him fill you again. Before you can protest his fingers lunge up into your abused hole again and he grating at that spot inside of you, the one that has you seeing stars. 

“Need another one, yeah?”

“Jack- fuck!” It complete takes over you. 

Somehow without having to even tell him, he felt the way your pussy spasmed and cried around him right before he pulled out, he knew you were close to cumming again. And ever the gentleman he is, he’s going to give you another one. 

He’s unrelenting, just like he was with his cock. His two fingers crook up against that spot again and suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

Jack’s arm wraps around the front of your shoulders, hauling your back straight against his chest, holding your trembling body to his. You can feel his slowly softening cock against your lower back, cum still dripping from it onto your ass. 

“Do it, please.” He begs of you this time, the muscles in both arms trembling from his own orgasm. 

Jack feels your pussy spasm again, feels the way your chest quickens its breathes, the way your feet nearly kick out from under you with the strength of it all and your cumming on his hand, your eyes going black and blind from the force of it. 

You slump back against him, letting him hold you once again. Jack wraps both his arms around you, swinging you around so that his back is pressed against the wall so he can lean on something. You both try to catch your breath, clinging to each other with leftover desperation. 

Greedily, he lets a hand swipe through your abused folds, collecting what you’ve given him. You whimper, leaning your head back to hide it in his neck, embarrassed. 

“Jack,” you whine in a pathetic attempt at protesting. 

He clicks his tongue at you, “Let me.” He tells you, plainly. 

His fingers linger, scooping up what he can and bringing it to his lips. He licks everything, groaning at the taste and letting his eyes close. You whine, pushing your face further into his neck, smelling him. He smells manly, like sweat, cologne and sex. You let it envelop you. 

Jack holds you like that for as long as he humanly can. Before the thoughts of getting caught inevitably come crashing down upon him again. 

“We have to move, kid. Can’t stay like this forever.” He tells you in a sad tone. You press a final kiss to his neck, breathing him in before pulling away. 

“I know.” 

You both pull yourselves back together. Jack puts his own pants back on as he watches you pull your underwear on slowly. Mindlessly, he reaches for your pants and holds them out for you. You put your hands on his shoulders while you step into them. 

“Thank you.” You tell him, voice gone quiet again, like you already have to be hush hush about this. 

Jack kisses the top of your head sweetly. You wonder what’s to come after this. You look up at him and he gives you that slick side smile you’ve only seen him throw Robby or Dana. 

“Didn’t know you could make noises like that.” He smiles and you push him back against the wall you were both just fucking up against, your face absolutely burning. This motherfucker likes making fun of you. 

“Jack I swear to God-”

He grabs you and kisses you again, holding your face to his. You let him kiss you, fighting the want to just melt back into him and stay here. 

Jack pulls away first. His anxiety getting the best of him. 

“Can I drive you home?” He asks, unsure of what else to say. He needs to get you out of the workplace and have a normal fucking conversation with you that doesn’t revolve around grief and dying kids and elderly on life support. 

And besides he knows you take the bus. 

“Yes please.” 

/

okayyy i literally had to cut it short because this shit was getting too long LOL, i had a full final act outlined but maybe that could be a shorter part two if anyone's interested..... lmk <3

[cyofii]

⩩﹕IN WHICH Phainon finally works up the courage to confess his feelings for you. He’s prepared for the worst, but his overly enthusiastic and hilariously awkward confession turns out to be the very thing that melts your heart.

wc: 2.7k 𐔌 ᯓ fluff + crack, reader is a member of the astral express, english is NOT my first language, probably ooc, i might disappear again after this helpp

It all started with a simple glance. The moment you, Caelus, and Dan Heng arrived at Amphoreus and were saved by him, something shifted. He couldn’t help but take notice of you the instant your eyes met. Was it the way you stood your ground against the Strife Titan’s soldier minions? The steady strength in how you cared for your comrades? Or perhaps it was just you, intriguing in a way he couldn’t quite place.

The first time Phainon spoke to you, he found himself trying his best to impress you with his words. Were you the type to be drawn to intelligent people? The kind who could be charmed by facts, theories, or well-timed historical references? He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to find out. So he made it his mission to impress you with what he knew, slipping little details into conversation about Amphoreus’s ancient architecture, the myths behind its sky, or the lesser-known mechanics. His voice would drop to soft, thoughtful tones whenever you were near, as if every word he spoke was carefully chosen just for you.

Tribbie noticed it too. There was a subtle difference in Phainon’s voice whenever he spoke to you. It carried a softness, something warmer, something more genuine than the way he spoke to anyone else. On the way to Okhema, Tribbie couldn’t help but sneak glances at the two of you, quietly cheering for Phainon in her head. Even Dan Heng, ever observant, seemed to sense the way Phainon’s attention lingered on you a little longer than it should.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" Phainon asked, his gaze settling on you.

Fate must have been on his side when he asked if you wanted to ride the dromas with him, and you agreed, especially since Caelus and Dan Heng were already sharing one.

"I haven't, actually," you replied, your eyes drifting over the unfamiliar surroundings, taking everything in.

"Then once we reach the city gates, we can go eat. My treat, of course!" he said, his voice laced with excitement.

You could almost imagine a pair of puppy ears and a wagging tail behind him as he spoke, the image bringing a chuckle out of you.

"Sure, I'd like that," you replied, accepting his offer with a warm smile.

Because of the battle against Nikador, the little ‘date’ Phainon had planned was postponed. A week had already passed.

Now, Phainon stood outside the room you shared with Caelus and Dan Heng, quietly muttering to himself as he worked up the courage to knock. He kept rehearsing the words in his head, wondering how he should invite you to eat. Was he always this nervous? Or was it only like this when it came to you?

Trying to steady his nerves, Phainon took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his hand hesitating for just a second.

There was a long pause before a voice called out, "I’ll get it."

The door creaked open, slow and unhurried, and Phainon felt his heart climb all the way to his throat. For a moment, he was sure it would burst out of his chest.

But when the door finally opened, it wasn’t you standing there — it was Dan Heng, his expression calm but curious. The sight brought Phainon a small wave of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly. If it had been you, he swore he might have collapsed right then and there.

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow, studying him for a second longer than usual. "Looking for someone?" he asked, though the knowing tone in his voice suggested he already had the answer.

Phainon cleared his throat, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. "Are they here?"

Dan Heng glanced over his shoulder toward the room before stepping aside. "They’re inside. I’ll call them."

As Dan Heng turned to call your name, Phainon felt his heart pick up speed all over again. No matter how much he tried to prepare himself, it seemed that just the thought of seeing you was enough to stir something deep in his chest.

You heard Dan Heng call your name from inside the room, his tone as calm as ever. At that moment, you and Caelus were in the middle of teasing each other over some silly in-joke, the kind that only the two of you seemed to find funny. He nudged your shoulder with a grin, and you rolled your eyes playfully before excusing yourself.

As you stepped toward the door, still smiling faintly from the banter, Phainon felt his breath catch in his throat. Even though he had spent a whole week trying to find the right words, now that you were standing in front of him, his mind went completely blank.

You tilted your head slightly, noticing the way his gaze flickered away for just a moment. "Hey," you greeted, your voice light and easy, unaware of how much weight the simple word carried for him.

Phainon rubbed the back of his neck, forcing out the words he had practiced so many times. "About the meal... I was wondering if you're still up for it. I mean, if you're free, of course."

There was a pause, short but enough for Phainon’s heart to hammer against his chest all over again as he waited for your reply.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” you said, a small spark of realization flickering across your face. You looked at him with an apologetic smile, your tone light but warm. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Phainon felt the tension in his chest ease, his lips pulling into a bright, genuine smile. Without wasting another second, you turned your head back toward the room.

“I’m heading out with Phainon,” you called out, making sure both Caelus and Dan Heng could hear. Caelus gave you a playful wave from where he sat, and Dan Heng gave a small nod, his usual calm expression softening just a little.

Once you had said your goodbyes, you stepped out of the room and walked alongside Phainon. His steps felt lighter, and the shy glance he gave you couldn’t quite hide the excitement flickering behind his eyes.

“Snowy!” Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon all called out in unison.

There stood Phainon, his face redder than Mydei’s robe.

“What happened, Lord Phainon?” Castorice asked, a polite smile resting on her face.

Before Phainon could even try to answer, the sound of armor echoed through the bathhouse as Mydei strolled in, adjusting his gloves. His expression held the usual sharp edge of someone who knew far more than he let on.

“Oh, I can answer that,” Mydei said, his tone light and teasing. He stopped just a few steps away from the group, crossing his arms. “Deliverer here is fresh from a little outing, aren’t you?”

Phainon’s shoulders stiffened as Mydei glanced his way, that playful glint dancing in his eyes.

“Such an adorable sight too. Sharing a meal, walking side by side, and that little moment where he almost looked like he could steal the whole sky with one smile.” Mydei paused, clearly savoring the attention of the room. “Who knew the Deliverer had it in him?”

The room went silent for a moment, all eyes on Phainon, whose face somehow managed to burn even hotter.

Phainon opened his mouth to speak, maybe to deny it or maybe to change the subject, but all that came out was a strangled, “I—”

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” Trianne whispered to Tribbie.

Phainon turned away, covering his mouth with one hand in a poor attempt to hide the shade his cheeks had turned. He could still hear Mydei humming behind him, clearly enjoying himself.

His thoughts flickered back to just a short while ago. After their meal, the walk back had been warm, soft, and a little awkward, but in a good way.

“You didn’t have to walk me back, you know,” you had said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as the two of you walked along the path leading to your room. The sky above Amphoreus was still the same as ever.

“I wanted to,” Phainon replied, not quite looking at you. “It’s only right to make sure you got back safely.”

You had chuckled at that, a quiet, content sound.

When you reached the door, he lingered for just a second longer than necessary, and you noticed.

“I’ll see you soon?” you asked.

Phainon nodded quickly, trying to look composed even as he backed away. “Y-yeah. Definitely.”

The memory dissolved the moment Mydei spoke.

“Speaking of,” Mydei said with a smirk, glancing toward the lift. “Look who decided to join us.”

Phainon turned around and froze.

There you were, walking in alongside Dan Heng and Caelus, your eyes scanning the room. Dan Heng gave a polite nod to the group, while Caelus stretched his arms up with a dramatic sigh.

“Apologies, we’re late,” Dan Heng said. “Aglaea asked us to come too.”

Phainon blinked, his mind short-circuiting. “Oh. You’re... here too?”

You tilted your head slightly, amused. “Didn’t expect us?”

“I, uh, well, I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “I thought you’d be resting. After, y’know, earlier.”

Caelus narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. “Why does that sound suspicious?”

Mydei let out a low hum. “It was suspicious.”

Tribbie giggled behind her hand, and Trianne barely suppressed a laugh.

You glanced at Phainon, your expression unreadable for just a moment, then a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You didn’t tell anyone about the part where you almost tripped over a bench, right?”

Phainon let out a groan, covering his face as the others erupted into laughter. “Please don’t.”

The market was buzzing with chatter, and the air smelled faintly of roasted nuts and fresh bread. Tribbie was holding a small pouch of star-shaped candies, but her focus was far from the snacks.

“So…” she began, tugging lightly at your sleeve as you walked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Phainon lately.”

You glanced down at her, amused. “Have I?”

Tribbie grinned up at you, swinging her arm slightly. “Don’t pretend! He’s always sticking close to you — and I’ve seen the way you smile at him too.”

You paused, pretending to study one of the stall’s trinkets, though the question sat warmly in your chest. After a short moment, you finally answered.

“I guess he is interesting,” you admitted. “He’s smart, funny... and honestly, kind of charming when he isn’t trying so hard.”

Tribbie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, clearly delighted by your answer. “And handsome?” she asked, her voice full of playful innocence.

A soft laugh escaped you. “Yeah, that too.”

Tribbie let out a happy little giggle, skipping beside you as the two of you continued walking. “I knew it! I knew you thought so.”

Tribbie, still beaming from your little confession, skipped ahead a few steps before turning on her heel to face you, walking backward with the confidence only a child could manage.

“You should tell him, you know!” she chirped, her voice light as the breeze. “I bet he’d be super happy.”

You shook your head, amused at her boldness. “It’s not that easy, Tribbie.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Why not? Grown-ups always make things more complicated.”

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed softly in your pocket. You pulled it out and saw a message from Dan Heng:

Dan Heng: Caelus is getting hungry. You heading back soon?

You smiled to yourself, typing a quick reply.

You: On my way! Tribbie was stalling me.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you turned to Tribbie. “Come on,” you said, gently taking her hand to guide her away from the crowd. “I need to head back before Caelus starts eating my secret snacks.”

Tribbie skipped along beside you, humming happily under her breath. But even as you walked, your thoughts lingered on Phainon — the way his voice softened whenever he spoke to you, the way his nervous smiles felt so genuine, and how his whole demeanor seemed to ease the moment you were near.

Unspoken feelings hung in the air, light but impossible to ignore, and you couldn’t help but wonder if, somewhere, Phainon was thinking about you too.

The sun hung high in the sky as you and Phainon found yourselves standing by a quiet corner of the bustling marketplace, far from the noise of the crowd. The moment felt like it was meant to be, but Phainon looked a bit too tense for it to be anything “casual.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly unsure how to start. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You alright?”

Phainon’s face turned a little pink, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… so... you know how we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face as you could already sense where this was going. “Yeah, I think I’ve noticed.”

“I’ve been thinking... a lot.” Phainon scratched his head nervously. “And I just... I need to say this before my brain explodes. It’s important.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his serious tone, though you kept it to a smile so as not to interrupt his flow. “Alright, lay it on me.”

He took a deep breath, staring at you like you were the most important thing in the world, even if his face was all sorts of red. “Okay, here goes... I like you. Like, a lot. And I’m not talking about, like, ‘Oh, I like you as a friend’ type of liking you. I mean, I like you like you. Like, if liking you was a sport, I’d be the world champion. That’s how much I like you.”

You blinked, trying to suppress your laughter. “Phainon, are you... are you trying to tell me you have a crush on me?”

He nodded vigorously, still rambling. “Yes! But it’s not just a regular crush, okay? It’s like... the kind where I’d write you a song if I knew how to play an instrument. Or maybe I’d bake you cookies, but only if I had a recipe. Which I don’t. But, you know, the point is — I like you. A lot. And I can’t keep pretending that I don’t. So there, I said it.”

There was a brief silence, and you stared at him, blinking slowly, trying to make sense of his very enthusiastic confession. Then, you burst out laughing.

Phainon’s eyes widened, his face going even redder. “Wait, wait! Is that—was that bad? Did I mess it up? I can try again—”

You waved your hands, still chuckling. “No, no! It’s just... I wasn’t expecting you to be this nervous about it!”

Phainon gave a weak laugh, scratching his head again. “Well, it’s not every day I tell someone I like them, you know? I mean, this is serious stuff. It’s like, ‘here’s my heart, don’t drop it’ kind of serious.”

You put a hand on your chest dramatically. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna drop your heart. I mean, you’re not that bad. You did make me laugh.”

Phainon sighed in relief, a little grin appearing on his face. “Okay, so... you’re not running away screaming, right?”

You grinned. “Nah. But only because you said it in such a funny way. You’re lucky I find that charming.”

Phainon blinked. “Really? You find me charming?”

“Sure,” you said with a teasing smile. “For a world champion overthinker.”

His grin grew even wider as he nudged you playfully. “Well, if you ever need a partner in crime for overthinking things, you know where to find me.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I think you’ve already got me.”

Phainon blinked, then broke into a big smile. “Wait, did you just say yes?”

You gave him a wink. “Maybe I did. But you still owe me those cookies.”

“Deal!” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll start baking immediately... once I find a recipe.”

[blackleatherjacketz]

Clearance

Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Female Reader

Robby checks in on you after your hysterectomy and has his own way of clearing you to go back to work.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Power Imbalance, Medical Kink, Heavy Eye Contact With Robby, Hugging, Alcohol, Impromptu Pelvic Exams, Vaginal Fingering, Female Orgasm, Robby Talking You Through It, Kissing, Finger Sucking, Hysterectomy Details

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @likedovesinthewnd @skittles-archive

Everyone from work had taken turns coming over to check in on you after your surgery, all of them having their own versions of what caring for you looked like to them. For Dana it meant bringing you a home cooked meal and a bottle of wine topped off with the latest gossip. For Mel, it meant bringing you a plushie and watching Netflix while the two of you snacked on candy and popcorn. For Collins, it meant herbal tea and an electric heating pad to warm the spot where your uterus used to be.

For Robby, it meant bringing over a six pack of beer, the same brand you’d shared with him after your last long day of work together. The same brand he’d sipped while giving you that look from across the park benches, finally asking you if a boyfriend or girlfriend would mind if he walked you home this late at night. The same brand that you could smell on his breath and practically taste in the air as he rested his forehead against yours when the two of you finally reached your doorstep, reveling in each other’s presence.

You could have sworn he was going to kiss you that night with how close your lips were, how drawn your body was to his, how connected your souls felt. But he eventually cut the tension in half by turning his cheek, wrapping those big arms of his around you instead, pulling you all the way into his chest. It was one of those life-altering, nervous system regulating hugs that consumed every waking thought of yours after the fact; something you feared you might never get over no matter how hard you tried. He’d held onto you as if he was afraid that you’d disappear the very second he let go, as if your upcoming medical leave was going to be the very last time he’d ever see you again.

But it wasn’t.

“So, how’s my favorite resident holding up?” His energy is kinetic, building up between you two like a rubber band pulled taut since he last saw you, as if no time had passed between that embrace and now. That maddening look of longing admiration hasn’t dimmed the light in his eyes one bit as he sits down next to you on the couch. His crisp, clean scent surrounds you just like it had done before, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin as he hands you a beer. Your fingers brush over his knuckles for a split second before he pulls away and cracks one open for himself, briefly glancing at your face with a smirk.

“Going a little stir crazy, but I’ll survive.” You admit as you clink your can against his, the isolation of your medical leave weighing on you more than you care to admit. “Ready to go back to work, though.”

“It hasn’t even been eight weeks yet.” He raises a scolding eyebrow before taking a sip of his beer. “And as badly as I want to see your face every time I walk into that ER, you still need to take the recommended time off. It’s there for a reason.”

“Unless… you clear me?” You counter, a hopeful tone lacing your words as you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. You want to make it abundantly clear that you haven't forgotten how the two of you left things, either.

“Fuck, you’re impossible.” He shakes his head again and laughs under his breath, exasperated but not seeming very surprised by your request. “Are you still bleeding?”

“No, thank God.” You take a sip of the stale, bland beer and make a face.

Wait a minute, is he actually considering your request?

“And how about your incisions?” He sets his beer down on the coffee table and turns toward you, his voice low but still professional. “Are they healed all the way? Steri strips fell off on their own?”

“All except for one, yeah.” You nod and tilt your head to look at him a little closer, attempting to gauge if he’s actually willing to entertain this crazy idea of yours or not. “It’s really stubborn though, still has some dried blood on it.”

He stares at you with a dangerous sense of warmth, that rubber band between you two pulling even tighter until his lips curl into a smirk as if he knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to. You can feel it already, that shift in the air, that increase in your heart rate as he leans in close enough to count the lashes on your eyes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’s going to kiss you, but all he does is laugh under his breath until he finally gives in to your whims at the very last minute.

“Alright, I’ll clear you,” he mutters, his eyes completely black. “But only after I examine you.”

“Hmm?” You don’t pull away, don’t break the heavy eye contact as your body slowly heats up from his gaze. You almost miss what he said entirely as you nearly lost yourself in the deep hypnotic pools of his eyes.

Is he serious?

“Lay down on your back, let me look at those incisions, and I’ll consider clearing you for light duty.” He clarifies, taking the beer from your hand and setting it down on the table next to his before getting onto his knees, kneeling down in front of the couch.

“Oh, right, yeah. Thank you.” Holy shit! He’s really going to do this, isn’t he? He’s really going to touch you again with those hands, really going to examine you to see if you’re ready to go back to work and be a real person again. You swallow hard and follow his orders, laying down flat on your back as you try to control the subtle heaving of your chest.

“Did they keep your ovaries?” He asks, that voice of his just barely above a whisper as he reaches out to you, hesitating for a moment before lifting your shirt up just above your navel. “Or was it a total hysterectomy?”

“No, I still have them,” you respond, inhaling sharply as his calloused fingertips finally touch you, setting that spark inside alight as they brush over the sensitive skin of your abdomen.

“That’s good.” He smiles softly, that glint in his eyes never faltering as he palpates for any rigidity or tenderness. “Your abdomen’s nice and soft,” he rubs his hand more affectionately over your ribs and belly than he would a regular patient, the warmth of it spreading into your skin as he deepens his touch just enough to try to get you to relax.

God, that felt good…

“Thanks,” you manage to say before swallowing hard, mentally coaching yourself to breathe normally. “I guess.”

“Each of your incisions look good except for that one down here that we already knew about, but the strips should eventually fall off on their own.” He taps the area just below it, gently placing his other hand on your hip.

“Yeah, that’s what my surgeon said.” You try your best to keep your cool and relax the muscles that twitch beneath his hand as his opposite thumb traces small circles onto your hip.

“Any pain when I do this?” He presses his palm deep into the center of your pelvis this time, nearly making your back arch with the intensity of the pressure. But it doesn’t necessarily hurt, not really.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Any hormonal changes? Sleep disturbances? Decrease in your energy level or sex drive?” His eyes lock onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen as he asks that last question, almost pleading with you to give him a reason to proceed even further. His fingers continue their intimate palpation of your body, barely grazing the hem of your sweatpants as his hand travels down a little lower, stoking that heat inside your core. “I know they kept your ovaries, but the surgery can still be a shock to your system for a while.”

“No.” Your heart skips a beat and he continues to handle you, practically molding you like putty in his hands. “No hormonal changes.”

“You sure?” He pauses, a tiny smirk curling his lips as he notices the quick rise and fall of your chest, the pulse thrumming in your veins. “I think I should check everything, just to be safe.” He glances down at his hands then back at you as if asking for permission, his fingers gently tugging on the elastic band of your pants.

“I think you should, too,” you whisper, instinctively lifting your hips with a simple nod of encouragement as you watch him carefully pull your pants and underwear down past your knees.

Holy shit this is happening, this is really happening!

“Fuck,” he whispers, licking his lips as he gratefully takes you in. You can hear his breath falter, see his eyelids flutter shut for just a moment before he touches you again, this time on your inner thigh. That rubber band between you two has now been stretched to capacity, snapping back into place as he traces his fingers up your thigh to the very center of your burning heat.

You had dreamt about this for so long, fantasized about him from the very first day that you met him, and now he’s here in your living room, touching you where it matters most.

“Tissue’s healthy, pink and moist. Blood flow looks good.” He speaks to you as if he’s still performing a routine exam in the hospital, as if he isn’t touching you the way that you’ve wanted him to for years. He clears his throat as he traces two fingers up and down your swollen length, slowly spreading your lips apart to get a better view of you. “No perfusion issues that I can see. Can you feel me alright when I touch you here?”

“Mmm hmm, I can feel you just fine.” His fingers send a thousand tiny messages to the neurons embedded just beneath your skin, triggering them to fire on all cylinders until your nipples harden and that moisture begins to pool between your folds.

“Looks like you’ve got plenty of estrogen keeping you lubricated, so that’s not a problem.” He hums to himself, a sound so deep that it practically rumbles in his chest and shifts into a growl as he dips his fingers into your entrance to collect the evidence. His lips part even further as he drags his sopping wet digits up your length and swirls them around your swollen bud, taking your breath away along with it. “Do you always get this wet around me, or is this new?”

“Always,” you confess, all pretense lost as he repeats the motion again and again, grinning with sheer satisfaction as he watches your face contort with each exponential wave of absolute bliss.

He was way too good at this.

“Always, huh?” He laughs, starting to focus more on your clit, rubbing it up and down instead of in circles, intentionally applying more pressure on the upswing to drive you extra crazy. “You ever soak through your scrubs after a long shift with me?”

“Just once,” you huff, his pressure on that magic spot forcing you to roll your hips into him, establishing a euphoric rhythm that sets every cell of your skin on fire.

“Just once? That’s it? Are you sure?” His smile wrinkles the freckled skin around his eyes as he increases his pace on your clit, his lips parting as he leans down to whisper into your ear. “I kinda find that hard to believe with how fucking wet you are right now.”

“Okay, maybe twice… mmmm, Robby!” You moan as he slides two fingers inside your slick walls, his thumb not missing a beat as it presses up and down on your clit, bringing you even closer to the edge. You can hear the truth of how wet you are, smell it in the air and feel it dripping down your thigh as he pulls his fingers out and pushes back in, pulsing a white hot heat into your viscera. You can’t help but arch your back again as it licks its way up your spine, his thick fingers continuing to stretch you out inch by inch.

“They took your cervix, too, huh?” He pushes his fingers in even deeper, all the way down to the knuckles until the pleasure becomes too much for you to handle, robbing you of his visage as your eyes roll back into your head. “Vaginal cuff with sutures?” He asks, his lips hovering over yours as he describes what he’s feeling, pretending not to notice you coming completely undone beneath him. “You seem to have healed quickly.”

“Mmm hmm, Robby!” You nod as your smooth muscle adjusts around him, the sound of his thrusts growing louder in your ears as that internal wildfire consumes each and every layer of organic tissue until the steam seems to rise up and out through your pores. It rips through your spine, violently sizzling its way through every neural pathway as the blazing inferno contracts every muscle in your body.

“That’s it,” Robby coos, his smile widening as he feels the product of your orgasm spilling down his palm and wrist, soaking the cushion beneath you. “That’s it, pretty girl, let yourself feel it. Let that dopamine and oxytocin wash all over you. Fuck, you look so good coming all over my fingers.”

You tilt your head just enough to catch his lips between yours as that final flash of ecstasy burns through you, bucking your hips and curling your toes. You groan as he hums against your lips, fingers relentlessly continuing their good work as your tongue tastes the desire on his skin. You reach up to cup his face, his beard soft against your palm as you deftly brush your thumb against his cheek. He kisses you back so deeply, tastes your lips with such an intimate fervor that you barely feel him slow his pace on your overstimulated organ.

“Holy shit, Robby, that was amazing,” you whisper as he pulls his fingers out of you, dragging them over your clit one more time just to watch you squirm. “You’re really good at that.”

He brings his fingers up to his lips and quickly sucks your essence off of them, as if he can’t wait to see what you taste like. “Mmm, your pH is well balanced. I don’t see why you can’t come back to work on light duty.” He glances down at you with a clear sense of pride, that smile never leaving his lips as his eyes roam over your freshly ruined body. “But let me make you dinner first.”

[luffydotcom]

may I please request a Luffy x fem reader (they aren’t together yet) but Luffy has a big crush on the reader without realizing and he’s always super touchy with her without thinking anything of it, like always holding her or picking her up when they’re on adventures and protecting her too all without realizing until the crew makes a comment about it to him, I think it would be super adorable. thank you!

this is such a cute idea oh my GOD. it feels so accurate for luffy too, i just love him so much. thank you for the request as well! it's actually my first ever one! i hope it suffices.

so it's love, then?

pairing: luffy x female! reader warnings: none! word count: 915

ever since you joined the crew, luffy had always thought there was something different about you - something special about you. he was just so drawn towards you, more than anybody else. and he couldn't put his finger on why.

of course, he loved all his friends with his whole heart, but for some reason he didn't understand, when he was around you, he would get a different feeling inside, almost ticklish, making his heart feel funny.

why do i feel like this? i guess it's pretty nice though!

he didn't know what it was, but he sure as heck loved it.

he just can't keep his eyes off of you, but more than that, he can't keep himself off of you. he's always scooping you up to which you laugh in surprise, diving in to hug you close after a successful battle, and practically hanging off your arms when you're busy with a task. even in fights, he can't help but protect you more than needed.

and the worst part is, he never thinks anything of it. little does he know how much his actions make you feel. how you have to hide your excitement when he pulls you in for a hug, or your contentment when he carries you around playfully. he's practically killing you and he doesn't even know it.

and it's like everyone can see it but him.

one afternoon on the sunny, luffy is kicking back on the grass, his head resting on his hands and his eyes closed, about to take a nap. until suddenly, he hears your voice as you're leaving the galley - and and it's like he was never tired at all. he can't help but grin cheekily and stretch his arms to scoop you up above him in the air.

"hey! LUFFY!" you yell in surprise. "w-what're you doing?"

"i don't know," he starts laughing. "i just feel like i want you near me!"

before you can object, he gently puts you down next to him on the grass, your faces close. you're afraid to even breathe wrong as luffy refuses to look away from you, still smiling as if it's nothing. he feels that funny feeling in his chest again and he doesn't want it to end.

he's about to say something, until you both hear footsteps nearing. you both turn over and to see the entire crew standing with bewildered looks on their faces.

"i hope we're not interrupting anything," usopp teases. your face feels hot at his comment. you look over to luffy but he just looks lost.

"interrupting? interrupting what?" he raises an eyebrow. "and why are you all just standing there?"

"well, luffy, we've been needing to ask," nami starts as she looks down at you both. "i mean, i know it's not our business but... haven't you been a bit... touchy with y/n lately?"

you freeze. you can't believe that everyone is collectively agreeing as they nod at what nami's said. you try to say something but suddenly you've forgotten every single word in your vocabulary. instead, luffy speaks.

"touchy? when have i been doing that?" luffy tilts his head, genuinely confused at the observation.

"RIGHT NOW!" everyone practically says in unison as they look at his arm which is suddenly around you. your eyes widen - even you didn't even realise it was there.

luffy bursts out laughing, before eventually composing himself again. "i guess i am kinda touchy, aren't i? but i don't get it. why's that bad?"

nami shakes her head. "it's nothing bad, of course. it's just... well, with how affectionate you are with y/n... always hugging her, play-fighting with her, picking her up-"

"it's like you're in love with her or something!" brook bursts out, unable to help himself as everybody laughs.

your eyes feel like they're about to jump out of their sockets. "w-what? don't be silly... luffy's just being luffy. right, luffy...?" you stutter out, looking at him desperately to say something. but the captain who would normally laugh along at brook's outburst and is usually full of words is awfully quiet... and in thought.

"love?" luffy whispers to nobody at all as he gives it thought. every time he's wrapped his rubber arms around you tightly with affection, every time he's protected you in heated battles, every time he's fought the urge to kiss you - they all flash through his mind. with every time, he always craved you more. would that explain the funny feeling in his heart he gets when he's near you?

"now that you say it, i guess i am in love with you!" luffy laughs loudly before noticing everyone's jaws, including yours, all dropping to the floor. "what? what's wrong?"

you feel like you might faint. the weight of his words that he's just admitted so casually feel like a boulder just dropped on top of you. "you... love me? you're serious?"

"well, i know for a fact that luffy's practically incapable of lying," sanji adds, lowering his cigarette with a smile. "so you have no choice but to believe him, dear."

not giving you another second, luffy is already on his feet. "man, i love you so much! it makes so much sense now." he hauls you over his shoulders playfully to everyone's amusement, leaving your legs dangling over him and it's too late to object. yet you can't help but laugh and neither does the crew.

"that explains why i just can't let go of you!"

[redrosydiaz]

its the middle of spring in la, inching closer to summer every day the way it's been growing steadily warmer, so buck's layers have been making less and less of an appearance (they're not completely gone, because even in the middle of summer sometimes buck gets coldcoldcold — from the ac usually, around this time, because eddie looooves that thing, even more so now that he's back, after not having a functioning one for so long in texas.) but still. buck gets cold easily, no matter what, so he always keeps two sweatshirts and his comfiest pair of sweatpants and at least three pairs of fuzzy socks nearby for when that happens).

but. it's spring, it's sunny, it's warm.

and then there is an uncharacteristically chilly day in the midst of it all — overcast, gray skies. the streets wet from the rain. a crisp bite in the air.

the ac isn't on in buck's— no eddie's— no their house on this day, but the windows are cracked, because chilly as it is, the fresh air is nice, and the sound of birdsong is delightful, and the smell of real, fresh rain is better than any candle eddie could buy is.

buck and eddie are on the couch. it's their day off, and christopher is at a friend's house. he spent the night there, and eddie isn't due to pick him up for another couple hours, so they're having a lazy morning — a lazy afternoon, really, now that the clock has ticked over past the noon mark. so they’re on the couch, catching up on one of those silly reality shows they watch together because eddie thinks the drama is fun and buck thinks the way eddie gets super into it is cute (and also because the drama is fun). and buck's bundled up in one of his sweatshirts, because his arms got cold, but hes wearing a pair of sweatshorts — eddie's. the cut off ones he loves. his favorite pair, actually. buck loves to tease him about them, but. well. he might wear them just as much as eddie does. ever since they stopped trying to separate out their clothes in the drawers. it happens much more often now, the wearing each others clothes. neither one of them minds. (they both love it, actually, not that they've admitted it. they haven't admitted anything yet.)

but they're sitting on the couch together, watching shitty reality tv, and buck's leaning against the arm of the couch, his knees bent and toes tucked up under eddie's thigh because, well. because they're cold. he keeps wiggling them, like he's trying to work some warmth back into them, but its not really working.

eddie, of course, notices this. and, he gets up. doesn't say a word. doesn't pause the show. just disappears down the hall. buck pouts, attention drawn away from the screen to watch eddie leave. he's about to call after him, to ask if everything is okay or where he's going, but then eddie is reappearing. padding softly down the hall and back into the living room with something balled up between his hands.

he rounds the couch and sinks back into his spot and then — and then he turns to buck and reaches for a foot. just. curls his fingers around buck's ankle and lifts it up and plonks it right into his lap. and then — gentle, sweet, so achingly tender, eddie slides one of buck's fuzzy socks onto his foot. pulls it over his toes and up his heel and makes sure it's pulled up as high as it goes, fitting comfortably. then he repeats that with buck's other foot. and then, instead of pushing buck's feet off of his lap, back onto the couch, eddie just, takes one between his hands again, and, keeping his eyes on the tv, chuckling softly at whatever ridiculous antics are playing out, he starts to rub buck's foot. a soft touch, a gentle kneading, probably to get the blood flowing again and return some of that warmth back to his frozen toes. mindless, like he didn't even have to think before he did it.

and all buck can do is just. stare. at eddie. with his breath caught in his throat and his heart aching in his chest and his eyes shining. because — because oh.

oh.

buck thinks, i can see my future, and it looks exactly like this.

[toxycodone]

hey so what if. curly thought that his favourite crewmate was at least a little experienced and then found out that they actually haven't even kissed before. like maybe if he overheard daisuke making fun of them for it. what then 👁️

ship. captain grant mccurley x reader

content. power imbalance, curly calls you kiddo but you aren’t his kid

“You’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

This was not the type of late night conversation you expected to be having with your fucking boss, but alas, the stars aligned and hexed you stupid, it seems. Curly’s blue eyes practically glow despite the dim lighting in the common room, peering at you with gentle amusement.

You shift in your seat. Suddenly the couch isn’t comfortable anymore.

“No…being on hauls back to back doesn’t give me much time to date and stuff…”

You answer, scrambling for any sort of excuse. It’s genuinely embarrassing. Why has someone your age never kissed anyone yet? Ridiculous. Now Curly probably really thinks you’re some fucking kid.

“I know, it’s weird. Daisuke already made fun of me enough, so please…just drop it.”

The blonde chuckles—deep and gravely as it rolls in his chest. He’s an insomniac, but he still gets that sexy ‘just woke up’ tone this late in the evening.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s cute, really. Someone your age still being so pure…that’s rare.”

That familiar feeling of heat starts to burn your cheeks. Oh God. It’s not just from embarrassment anymore. Curly finding it cute…it makes you wanna explode.

“Seriously? You don’t think I’m, like, weird?”

Of course he wouldn’t. Curly’s your captain. Confidant. Friend. At least that’s what he’s made himself out to be. This pseudo-fatherly figure that you can always rely on. The one that’s there for you. Takes care of you.

He shakes his head.

“Not at all.”

His hand’s on your knee.

“Were you waiting for someone special? I mean, a first kiss is a big milestone,”

It’s moving up your thigh. You don’t question it. It’s Curly. He can touch you like this. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s comforting you.

You consider his question. Were you waiting for someone special? Or had you been so consumed in work you just never had the time to grow outside of pursuing your career? It’s probably a mix of both. Curly’s been at this job for over a decade, yet he’s definitely managed to kiss a plethora of people. And with a body like that, you bet he even has quite a few notches on his bedpost too.

Would he want to add another?

That thought’s admonished when he gives the fat of your thigh a squeeze. You swallow, but your throat’s dry.

“I mean…I guess.” His gaze pierces through you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The boring screen full of stars is now quite interesting.

“I just, I don’t know, I—“

“I can show you how to kiss.” It’s offered as casually as a handshake. “So you know what to do when you find the right one.”

This isn’t something a captain should offer his subordinate. Nevertheless, one that affectionately refers to you as kiddo. You’ve called him dad before, either on accident or on purpose—that you aren’t sure. There’s layers of nuance to this situation that makes it inherently wrong. But it’s dangled in front of you like a treat.

“Really…?”

Obedient as ever, you take it despite the risks.

Aren’t you well trained?

But what else is he for? If not to teach you, his favorite crewmate, his sweet little kiddo, everything they need to know to succeed?

“Of course.” The hint of Southern drawl in his sultry tone is enough to rid your inhibitions. You’re drawn to the soft, pink curve of his lip as he leans forward. Your chin’s gently cradled by his index finger and thumb, the callouses on them now hyperaware to your senses.

“It’s easy.” His eyes lock on yours. “You just close your eyes, then pucker your lips.”

You try to follow these instructions, prompting a laugh from Curly.

“Cute. But try to relax, okay?”

It’s hard. You feel his breath on your lips, and it makes you shake like a leaf. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

Curly’s lips touch yours. It’s soft. For such a large, imposing man, the kiss is chaste and sweet. There’s so much care put into the gesture, a testament to Curly’s personality. A shock runs through you, but you find yourself easing into the kiss and relaxing.

His other hand, the one not perched on your thigh and kneading the flesh, moves to cradle the back of your head. This feels like a fantasy. How you’d imagine a leading man would kiss the object of his desire. So much passion exists in such a tiny gesture, your heart feels like it’s going to pop in your chest.

And then, it’s over. When his body moves from yours, you still feel in a daze. Your heavy eyelids open slowly to be met with Curly’s half-lidded ones. He’s close enough you could count his golden lashes if you wanted.

“See? Nothin’ to it, right?”

Curly’s beaming. And even more obnoxiously, the simulated moonlight is highlighting his masculine features in all the right areas. You’re starting to feel dizzy.

Curly’s thumb graces your bottom lip.

“With a little more practice, you’re sure to be a natural.”

How could you say no?

[secretlysamcro]

Female Reader x Jax Teller MAJOR SPOILERS, smut, explicit language & again, MAJOR SPOILERS. If you're under the age of 18, easily offended, haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: hi love could you do a jax teller x reader where jax is really upset and tries to start a fight but eventually gives up and just lets the reader comfort him?? i feel like there’s not enough soft/vulnerable jax and i just really need it haha! xx

Backstory: You had met Jax a few months after the death of Tara. You aren’t in an actual relationship just more like friends with benefits. Whenever he needs comfort, it’s you he spends the night in. Jax has been keeping in his feelings regarding Tara, his boys & his club, it all boils over, with you in the firing line.

“Fuck” Jax mumbled under his breath as he moved against you, maintaining a relentless pace. His calloused hands firmly grasped your hips, directing your movements like his own puppet on a string as he applied pressure, pressing your body down onto his ready to cum cock.

It’s not long after you’re both climaxing in unison, you stare at him intensely almost as if you’re being hypnotised by those charming blue eyes, shortly after your head snaps back in ecstasy, your back arching in pleasure as you dig your french tipped nails into his chest, just above his ‘Abel’ tattoo. You can feel Jax filling you up as his grip on you becomes firmer and more authoritative. It’s a feeling that’s become familiar over these past few months.

Jax doesn’t talk about Tara at all, not with you anyway. You only know what happened because people talk, but you wouldn’t dare to ask him. He obviously finds some form of comfort in the fact he has no obligation to talk to you about her whilst he’s with you, or about how and why it happened.

As Jax finishes his peak before you, he looks up and observes how you’re still enveloped in your pleasure bubble. He takes in the little details of your skin, how the sweat on your forehead makes your baby hairs swirl against your hairline and how your golden ‘Angel’ necklace hangs at an angle, catching the light ever so slightly. His grip immediately loosens. As beautiful as you are, you’re not Tara.

“Get off” he orders, as he can’t bare to watch you any longer. You ignore what he says, not because you’re being a bitch but because you’re still coming down from your own high. “I fucking said get off” with a swift push, he forces you off of him, he doesn’t cause any harm but it was enough force to shock you. He gets up, locking himself in your en-suite, leaving you sat on your bed feeling confused, slightly rejected and in a dripping mess. “what the fuck” you silently mouth to yourself looking in the direction of your bathroom door.

Jax Looks at himself in the mirror, after splashing his head and face with cold water, getting it absolutely everywhere in the process. He wipes away the tiny flecks of blood from his chest caused by your nails.

Despite his attempts to suppress it, Jax’s feelings have been growing stronger. He finds himself drawn to you, both emotionally and physically, but at the same time, he feels guilty. He feels as if he’s betraying Tara; betraying their love, their marriage, and betraying her death. Which is why he’s tried his best not getting attached, dismissing you when it’s convenient to him, only having sex in doggystyle so he doesn’t have to see your face - not because he doesn’t want too, but because if he does he knows the feelings will become real, stronger even, which is exactly what had just just happened.

Today was the first time you had ever taken control in the bedroom, since the two of you started having casual sex. You being on top, being in charge and breaking the cycle of having sex without meaning. Up until tonight, Jax had gotten used to having sex with you solely in a functional way. No emotional connection, no eye contact - just getting the job done. He would usually take you from behind focusing purely on his own pleasure, it was always like that; a structured routine.

You grab a random tee from your draw, chucking it on as you hear Jax coming out from the bathroom. You turn round to face him, he’s already managed to pull on his jeans - now fiddling with the samcro belt buckle attached to them.

“Did I do something wrong?” You question, your voice a low tone as you step on the eggshells surrounding Jax as he slides his air force 1s back onto his feet.

He ignores you. Pulling his white tee over his head and then his flannel shirt.

“Jax?” you say, walking closer to him.

He ignores you again, searching around the bed for his kutte. You see it slipping off the headboard, you grab it and take it towards him. He goes to grab it but you pull your hand and his kutte away from him.

“What happened?” You ask.

“Stop fuckin’ around gimme my kutte” he raises his voice as he shouts his demands at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You retaliate, throwing the kutte in his direction.

He laughs in a tone of disbelief. “What’s wrong with me? What the fucks wrong with you?”

You look at him, confusion written all over your face.

“What was all that shit about?” he looks you up and down, almost as if he’s scolding you.

“What the hell are you talking about, for gods sake Jax you’re so hard to read somet-” your sentence is cut short.

“All that lovey dovey look me in the eye bullshit” he cuts in.

“Are you being foreal jax? We’ve been fucking for months now and me looking you in the eye is suddenly where you draw the line” You scoff back at him, walking away and pottering around your room, picking up random things to avoid having said eye contact.

“yeah! I’m being for real. Don’t fucking do it again” His authoritative tone peeking through. He squares up to you slightly when saying so, realising he’s overstepping a boundary he puts on his kutte before taking a step back. “Look I’m sorry I just… I don’t like it” he lets you know, his tone now softer.

“You don’t like it? Or you think Tara wouldn’t like it?” you question, knowing you probably shouldn’t have just said that.

His eyes meet yours aggressively. “What the fuck did you just say?”

You were already clued up that this probably had something to do with Tara, I mean of course it would, of course he still has the trauma of a dead wife on his shoulders, and you can’t blame him. You just wish he’d talk about these things, instead of hiding them, and constantly portraying this stone cold figure, when deep down you know he really does have a soft heart.

“You’re allowed to miss her Jax…” You say, in a calming tone, hoping he understands you mean well. “…but you’re also allowed to carry on with your life, do things that make you feel… good”

You watch closely as he grinds his teeth together, the muscles of his jaw flexing in sync. You can tell there’s a battle of conflict in his mind, he’s deciding how he should react. He takes a few steps back, sitting back down on the edge of your bed. He looks up at you “I miss her” are the last words he says before the tears start flowing, letting you see that soft side of Jax, that you’ve never seen before.

You take a deep sigh, “come here” you beckon as you sit down next to Jax. Your arms almost ready to wrap around his shoulder and pull him closer, but noticing the slightest flinch in his body. The movement was so subtle, you almost missed it.

There’s always been a strange contrast in his behaviour. Whilst he’s open to shoving his dick into you, he often withdraws when it comes to the moments that require emotional vulnerability, such as kissing, hugging or even the eye contact.

Jax looks up towards the ceiling, his hands wiping away the tears that have managed to escape his eyes. He breaths in heavily and begins to talk, the emotion weighing heavy in his voice. “I don’t know what to do anymore” he admits, the vulnerability pouring out as easy as the tears. As the last word leaves his lips, he takes your hand in his, a silent requests for you to break through his cold, rough exterior and to offer him comfort. He’s needs you to provide the emotional support that he’s craving in this moment of weakness.

Without hesitation, you pull him into a sideways embrace. His arm’s instinctively reacting to your hug and throwing them back around you in response. You can feel his strong body as it pushes against you, heaving up and down with each sob, for just a brief moment, neither of you say anything. You give him his moment to fully express and release all of his pent up feelings. He raises his head off of your shoulder, his hair still slightly damp from earlier, he makes eye contact, even though it is shaky.

“I know nothing I say is going to make you feel better Jax… and I know I can’t fully understand what you’re going through” you say softly, your voice full of empathy. “But I promise you Jax. Even if it feels impossible right now, right this second… things will get better.”

Jax let’s go of your embrace, wiping the remaining moisture threatening to spill. He takes a deep breath as he steadies his breath, “Sorry for before y/n… I just-” he begins to apologize. “It’s just…my sons, Abel… he keeps asking when mommy’s coming home and Thomas, he’s just so…so unsettled - I mean he’s too young to understand but it’s like he knows" Jax looks up at you, just as your lip begins to quiver “sorry I don’t know why I’m telling you all th-”

You nod your head a little, silently signalling to Jax that it’s safe for him to continue. His hand finds its way back into yours. The cold metal of his rings brushing against your skin as he interlocks his fingers with yours, seeking your comforting touch.

“I’m not sure how much you know but-”he can tell by the twitch in your facial expression that you do in fact know some version of the situation. “Still don’t know who did it” he hangs his head in sorrow “there’s just no closure you know I-”

You squeeze his hand gently as you ask the question “What about the funeral? sometimes people find comfort and closure in that…” Jax nods his head in agreement “Didn’t go, was still in county, I got out two days after” he begins making little circles on the palm of your hand.

“Jax, I’m so sorry” you offer your sympathy, even though at the same time in the back of your mind you’re wondering why he was in county. You knew some background info about Jax and his club, but being an outsider you never knew what was the truth and what was just general rumours.

Before Jax can respond, his phone rings. He stands up pacing around your room as he answers. Jax being a man of few words, wraps up the conversation in no time. You’ve grown accustomed to this routine, so you know what’s coming next.

Jax pockets his phone, looks at you and says “duty calls” with a half hearted shrug. You rise from the bed, following him downstairs to your front door, knowing the routine all too well.

Before opening the door, he turns to you and pulls you closer by your wrists. He tucks a strand of your wayward hair behind your ear with a soft and gentle gesture, his finger lingering for a moment on your skin. “Thank you, y/n” he whispers in a sincere tone.

“Don’t thank me” you smile as you adjust Jax’s kutte, making sure it looks neat. In a reassuring tone, you reply “Jax, I want you to know, I’m always here if you ever need to talk” letting Jax know that you want to be that safe space for him.

Jax smirks and lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Won’t be happening” he reassures you, a hint of playfulness in his tone. He adjusts your ‘Angel’ necklace, bringing it back to the centre. Meanwhile, memories from earlier swirling through his mind “and no nails either, you almost gave me a new scar” He teases, you can tell he’s trying to keep things light hearted.

You roll your eyes and repeat his words in a mocking tone. “No feelings, no scars and no lovey dovey eye contact, I got ya”

A small twinkle appears in Jax’s eyes as he laughs, appreciating your attempt to lighten the mood. “I never said anything about the eye contact” he smirks, placing a soothing kiss on your forehead before he leaves to deal with club business, he looks back one last time before getting on his bike, that oh so famous jax teller smirk on full display.

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Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[enchantresss97]

Halloj, mina älskade!

I'm back! Today was a sunny day here after an awful January full with darkness and depression. So feeling good and extra inspired by the gif down below and here it is.

Hope y'all like it and please don't be to harsh on me, I haven't written for a while. Also, please, don't mind the mistakes, I am tired, it's late here, I'll check it tomorrow.

This being said, enjoy it!

Characters: Bill Skarsgård x reader

Description: You and Bill always play, always flirt, a game that never goes anywhere. But the moment you step into the elevator together, everything changes. The tension snaps, will this elevator ride help solve this tension between you or it will make it worse?

Warning: mature theme, SMUT, language, sex

Elevator Ride

I forgot where is this gif from, so if the person who made it see this, I am so sorry and please let me know so i can tag you. Thanks.

The sound of your heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as you made your way down the hallway, the rhythmic tap echoing in the quiet. You were tired, so damn tired and all you wanted was to escape for a moment, to get some space from the day. Your dress clung to your body in all the right ways, the soft fabric hugging your curves, but it felt like a second skin, heavy and uncomfortable after hours of work. Still your mind wandered, as it often did when you were alone, back to him. Back to Bill. The man you couldn’t quite shake from your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried. You’d been dancing around each other for months now, flirting, teasing, pushing, pulling. A constant game of cat and mouse, always a little too close to cross the line, but never actually doing it.

You had seen him earlier, looking impossibly handsome in that deep burgundy tailored suit of his, his green eyes flashing with that same arrogant confidence you loved to hate. You’d caught his gaze, and for a moment, something had sparked between you, just a brief look, but it was enough. But again, it always was, wasn't it? The tension, the silent games, the stolen glances. You'd both done this dance before, circling each other, drawn in by an unspoken pull that never seemed to go anywhere. You wanted more, and you knew he did too. It so obvious in the way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his lips curled into a faint, knowing smile when your eyes met. But no one ever moved. Not you, not him. Ego. That's what it was. Both of you too proud to step forward or to admit your feeling, too stubborn to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were both craving the same thing. And it frustrated you, this unspoken standoff. The back and forth, the tension that never broke because neither of you would let it. But now you were done with it, you had enough. Why was it always like this? The spark, the pull, the desire, but nothing ever beyond it.

It was ridiculous. You knew it was ridiculous.

This… whatever this was between you; it had to stop. You weren’t the kind of woman to get caught up in something that went nowhere. This constant back-and-forth, this love-hate tension—it led nowhere. But no matter how many times you told yourself it needed to end; your body betrayed you every single time.

Your heels clicked once more as you reached the elevator, your hand pressing the button. You stepped inside, letting out a tired breath as the doors closed behind you.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to relax, but the air inside felt heavier all of a sudden, thick with something you couldn’t name. The elevator doors slid open, and Bill stepped in, his sharp, tailored suit brushing against the cool air. He froze for just a second when he saw you standing there, in the far corner, arms crossed loosely, your gaze fixed on the mirror in front of you. But Bill knew you were aware of him, he could feel it in the air between you.

You didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge his presence but you could feel him, every inch of him. Tall, towering over you, his presence filling the small space of the elevator. He leaned casually against the panel, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Busy today?” he asked, his voice quiet, but carrying. He didn’t need to look at you to know you were aware of the way he was watching you.

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t respond right away. Instead, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his, and for a moment, the elevator seemed to pause. Your gaze was steady, searching his face, your expression unreadable.

Bill didn’t break eye contact. There was something in the way you looked at him, something familiar and yet full of defiance. He felt a flicker of something…something more than the usual challenge between you.

You tilted your head slightly, as if weighing your next words, before letting out a quiet, amused breath. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Your voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it that he couldn’t ignore.

He smiled to himself, the kind of smile that only you could provoke. “I’m where I need to be,” he said, voice low, his eyes never leaving yours. He watched as you shifted your weight.

His body subtly moving closer, closing the gap between you. You didn’t back down, your lips curling into a smile of their own—half challenge, half something else. You took a slow step forward brushing your hand lightly against his arm as you passed him.

Bill’s breath caught just slightly, the unexpected contact sending a jolt of awareness through him. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted, the subtle tightening in his chest. You didn’t say a word, but the look you gave him over your shoulder was enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

Your gaze lingered on him for a fraction longer than necessary before you turned away. But the tension in the air was palpable, the space between you crackling with something unsaid. Bill leaned in just a little, his voice quiet. “You always do this, don’t you?”

Your eyes flicked to him once more, your smile still there, but this time it was softer. “Do what?”

He took a slow breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Make it hard to walk away.”

You didn’t say anything more, but the way your eyes met his, the slight curve of your lips, told him all he needed to know. You were just as aware of the silence as he was—the space between you, the unspoken pull. Neither of you was willing to be the first to break it.

Bill took a step closer, his shadow falling over you as his height seemed to consume the space around. You didn’t move, didn’t shy away, but your breath hitched as he towered over, his presence overwhelming. The air was thick with the tension, the subtle, unspoken need that had been building between you for months.

He could see your pulse flutter at your throat, could hear the faintest sound of your breath as it quickened. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, like a storm that was about to break. Slowly, his hand lifted to your cheek, his thumb grazing over your skin in a touch that was both gentle and demanding.

” I’m tired of waiting,” Bill murmured, his voice low, rough, almost dangerous. His thumb brushed your lips, feeling the soft curve of them beneath his touch. His eyes followed the motion, hunger flickering in them as his gaze dropped to your mouth.

You didn’t speak, didn’t pull away. Your eyes were heavy with something between you, something that couldn’t be ignored any longer. With a barely audible breath, you leaned up just enough to meet him halfway.

Bill didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance in an instant, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was hungry, demanding, the kind of kiss that said everything you hadn’t said in all the time you'd known each other.

He broke the kiss looking deeply into your eyes. Your breath came a little faster as Bill’s lips brushed against yours again, more urgent this time. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. You felt the heat of him, the power of his presence, and your body responded without hesitation. The moment you touched, everything else in the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in something that was both dangerous and inevitable.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hands sliding over the firm muscles of his chest. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat, quick and erratic, matching yours. His lips moved down your jawline, and moving to the delicate spot beneath your ear that made you shiver. Every touch, every kiss, every press of his body against yours sent a shock of need through you.

Bill’s hand moved lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips, his touch both possessive and tender. He couldn’t seem to get enough of you, the way you fit against him, the way you responded to his every move. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes dark with hunger, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as you met his gaze. You didn’t think that you ever could get used with his deep, green eyes.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered, his voice low, rough with desire.

Before you could reply, without breaking the eye contact with you, he reached out his hand toward the elevator panel and he pressed a button on it, halting its upward motion. The soft hum of the elevator stopped, leaving the space between you eerily quiet except for the sound of your quickening breaths. Your eyes widened, but you didn’t pull away. You were too lost in the moment, in the need for him that you couldn’t deny any longer.

Bill’s lips found yours again, more desperate now, as if he couldn’t wait another second. His hands roamed over your body, teasing the edges of your dress as he pushed it up just enough to feel the smoothness of your skin beneath. You gasped as his fingers brushed over the sensitive spot of your tight, sending a wave of heat through you. His touch lingered on your tight for too long before to move his hand up slowly. You gasped as he finally touched you, bringing his fingers to your wet core. His fingers slowly touching you “So needy“he whispered into your ear.

You moaned softly; the sound barely audible as you tugged him closer. He tugged your panties aside and slowly circled your clit. Your fingers fumbled with his shirt, desperate to feel him without any barriers between you. “I want you,” you breathed, the words spilling out without thought.

That's the moment when he inserted a finger inside your dripping wet pussy while he continues to tease your clit. His mouth trailed down your neck, his lips and teeth grazing over your skin in a way that made you shudder. You arched against his working palm, your body aching for more, needing more and he added another finger into your wet core. You let out a deep moan, he worked his fingers with his thumb rubbing circles into your clit, who made you to roll your eyes back. He pumped in and out of your soaking sleek, spreading the arousal around. You tilted your head back, clutching onto his shirt, you close your eyes, moaning, feeling his finger deep inside you and his hot breath on your neck.

The way his fingers moved, knowing exactly how to elicit the softest moan from you, how to make you shiver with each touch, was almost maddening. Slowly, he withdrew his hand pulling a raspy moan from you.

Bill’s eyes darkened further, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you up, positioning you against the elevator wall. The change in position made the moment feel even more intimate, more consuming, as if you were the only two people left in the world. You arched against him, your body aching for more, needing more. You could feel the heat of him through his pants, the hard length of him pressing against you.

“Are you sure?” he whispered against your ear, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing the sensitive skin.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, your hands pulled at his belt, the urgency of your actions clear. He groaned low in his throat, a sound that went straight to your core, and before you could even take a breath, he kissed you again deeply, urgently, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his costume pants.

He looked deep into your eyes for few seconds, letting you to change your mind if you want to but you remained silent. There was a predatory glint in his gaze, something dark and hungry that made your pulse spike.

The softness of your breath, the way your chest rose and fell with each quiet gasp. It was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped his fingers around his erection, spreading your arousal over his shaft.

The thought of having him inside you made your blood boiling into your veins and your pulse rushing. Bill’s eyes never left your face, watching every reaction with a hunger that only made the air feel even heavier. He was driving you to the edge, and he wanted to savour every second of it.

He pulled you closer and you crossed your legs behind his back. With a smirked on his face, he entered deep inside you. Your lips escaped a deep cry of shock when you felt him inside, how he filled you, fully, inch by inch. His guttural groan made you shiver. His hot mouth hovers onto yours, your breath mingling while list he was moving slow, making you feel ever ridge, every vein, every throb.

He started moving faster, buried deep inside. You roll your hips and dance on his cock vigorously, your back arching, every inch of you responding to him, the kisses deepened, your lips parting as his tongue swept inside your mouth, your tongues tangling together in an urgent dance, tasting, exploring. Your hands were everywhere, tugging at his tie, yanking the fabric of his shirt open to expose the warm, taut skin, to feel his chest. Bill's hands kept you steady not to fall, and pumping with deep thrusts, with throaty groans who echoes throw the whole elevator.

” You’re feeling so damn good...”, Bill murmured, his lips brushing against your neck as his fingers worked you closer to the brink. The sound of your moans filled the elevator, a symphony of desperation and pleasure.

With a deep groan, Bill's hips found the rhythm that pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, the orgasm crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You clung to him, your body shaking as the pleasure consumed you, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the waves of ecstasy.

Bill's breath was ragged, his movements growing more erratic as he followed you. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he reached his own peak. You gasped with him when you felt his shaft growing even bigger inside you. With a final slam of his hips into you, he flooded you with his hot seed. The sensation of him shuddering against you, the heat of his release, sent a final wave of pleasure through you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sounds were your hot breath, harsh and unsteady, as the world around you seemed to spin in a blissful haze. Bill's hands still lingered on the back of your thighs, supporting your weight, as you both tried to regain control.

Finally, he let your legs slowly down and leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smile.” That...was fucking incredible."

You let out a shaky laugh, your body still trembling.” Yeah?” you said with a sensual tone, teasing, your voice hoarse with the remnants of pleasure.

Bill's eyes flicked with amusement, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.” Yeah” he said in the same tone as you, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face giving you the most beautiful smile you ever saw.” Now, I think we need to get out of here.”

With a flick of his wrist, Bill finally allowed the elevator to move again, the sudden hum of the lift making your head to spin even more. You looked at him, a hint of laughter in your eyes, as the elevator started its slow descent.

” Not so quick to leave, huh?” you teased, still trying to catch your breath.

Bill raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a seductive smile.” I don't want to leave...but we've been in here long enough to get some...attention.”

You smirked, smoothing your dress down, still feeling the lingering of his warm cock inside you, his fingers on your skin and his tongue in your mouth. You took a moment to steady yourself before stepping away from him.

The elevator door finally open, both of you stepped out into the hallway, but there was no mistake the lingering heat between you.

Bill leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, a promise in the gesture that this wasn't over.

” See you soon,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

You smiled, your lips still tingling from his kiss” Count on it.” you replied, your voice filled with the same simmering tension.

As you both parted ways, you couldn't stop thinking about just what happened and couldn't contain your smile. Still feeling him on you, around you, inside you, a reminder that something much deeper had just begun.

[vergilsladyfriend]

okay so… devil may cry….

dmc boys being overstimulated by a sex toy (vibe? fleshlight? surprise me :D)

this is what I’m SAYING.

2/23/25: I don't remember when I posted this, but it's been a hot minute so I reread this. I fixed some grammar + rewrote/added some bits! I haven't written sex in a long time so I didn't touch a lot of the actual smut... Sorry

Tags: Use of sex toys (vibe (Vergil)/fleshlight (Dante)), light overstimulation, 69 (Dante), heavy praise, sub dmc men, I don't think I wrote this with a specific game in mind for Dante so pick your favorite version of him

[-: He'd be open to most sex toys, including toys that go up you or him. Dante is the type of person to try most things at least once, even if it's not particularly to his liking. Of course, he expects kinks to be a two-way road, so Dante would like if you tried things he liked.

Dante

[-: Dante loves having sex toys used on him. He'd be open to the conversation that talks about sex toys and is very willing to be your test bunny. He could possibly be a little too willing, wanting to immediately go to sex without the discussion of safe words and boundaries.

(Which is one of the few things Dante is infinitatly grateful that you made him talk about. Devil triggers are, to your word, great in sex, but not when it comes as a surprise due to overstimulation.)

Hips positioned above his face, one of your hands rested on his thigh while the other held a dark red stroker tight around his cock. Dante's tongue flicked around your hole and his hands were tight against your hips, keeping you flush to his mouth. Occasionally you stuttered when he hit a good spot, head hanging low as your hand loosened around the stroker.

"Fuck, baby, don't stop." He'd say as you quickly jerked him off, slowing down sometimes around his tip. He wasn't quiet and you knew it was pointless to get him to try to be quiet, so you could only hope the neighbors had a good pair of headphones. Dante's hips chased after your hand when you pulled off just as he was about to cum, a high and whiny whimper coming from your boyfriend.

"C'mon! I was so close." You giggled at his whining and pushed the stroker back onto his leaking cock. Pumping once, twice slowly just to give Dante a thought of a slow orgasm, only to speed up quickly. Dante's head fell back against the pillows as he groaned and whined, hips roughly snapping to meet your hand. It came on so quickly neither of you really noticed, Dante's cum painting his and your stomach.

A low "Fuck.." was drawn slow out of Dante. You both laid in bliss for a little while before he roughly grabbed your hips and pushed you off of him, reversing the positions so now Dante hovered over you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. "My turn now, babe."

[-: No relation to the things above, but Dante would be the most open to pegging.

Vergil

[-: Vergil's not as open as Dante would be. Actually, he wouldn't be open, like at all. Besides flings in his youth (that resulted in Nero and hopefully no other kids), Vergil wasn't the type for routine sex and romantic relationships.

[-: On the VERY rare occasion that Vergil would get into an actual, serious romantic relationship aka the first one he's ever had, it would take a lot more convincing for his consent to let you use a toy on him, like thorough begging. To Vergil, sex is something that's meant to happen between two people, not between two people and an object.

Your hand is tight around the base of his cock, a small yet powerful bullet vibe pressed harsh against the underside of his tip. His thighs tensed, mind fighting off the urge to bend his knees to stave off the upcoming orgasm. His hands were gripping the sheet below him tightly, wrinkling the grey sheets. His hips gently jerked up, head tilted way back into the sheets. 'He's gonna bite his lip off if he keeps biting down like that,' you thought. 'Cute, though.'

[-: If you let Vergil use a vibrator on you, he'd be a lot more willing to let you use it on him.

[-: When he does allow you to use them on him, he's all quiet whimpers and groans. His fists are tightly balled up in the sheets, hips subconsciously pumping up into your hand.

You knew Vergil's boundaries like your own, and you knew that if you tried to push him to the point of begging, he'd tap out. So, your hand let go of his cock and the other pushed the vibe so his cock was flush against his lower tummy. Your free hand ran across his thigh, running up towards his hips, trailing up to his chest. You gently raked your nails across his muscles and watched his tummy flex.

<3

"I-I'm going to cum." Vergil says so matter-of-factly, still so in character. "Go ahead, you deserve it. You've been such a good boy for me." You watched his face flex at your praise and you knew at the moment he wanted to shoot back but couldn't as his dick twitched, cum shooting and pooling where his tip was pressed into his stomach. "Good boy. Do you want another one?" You asked sweetly, Vergil's body going limp as he relishes in the waves of a powerful orgasm. Your husband let out a weak breath and a low 'no.' You hummed in response and shut off the vibrator that had been forgotten about. "I'll go get a towel and some water, alright? We can also take a bath if you want." You slid off the bed and put the vibe to the side, leaning over Vergil's head. Your still-lubed fingers brushed a strand of free hair off of his head and your lips gave a warm kiss to his forehead, cheek, and then a chaste one on his lips.

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever started a project, thinking it was going to be a quick one-hour thing, only to have it expand into several weeks of complete misery? You haven't? Boys, get over here. We found us one of them replicants wearing a human face. Put them in the vat with the others.

Now that all the unpleasantness is over, we can dish about how awful our hobbies are. I've always been drawn to the small, intricate jobs in life. Fiddly stuff, things where you have to really be paying attention. Being awake enough to notice a strange sound, or a joint that doesn't quite go together right, is the only way to avoid an intractable crisis later. I think it's because I derive a lot of pleasure when it all falls into place and the damn thing works.

A couple years ago, I told a friend that I would really love to build a ship in a bottle. All that precision really appealed to me. Feeding parts one at a time through a tiny neck and assembling this beautiful work, made even more beautiful by forcing it to be pointlessly difficult.

He responded by telling me that nobody actually does it that way. What you do is you build the ship outside of the bottle, with the sail wrapped around it, and then you push it into the neck and use a piece of string to pop the sail back up once it's fully in there. I got really angry. So angry that I left the room, drove to the hospital, and "borrowed" one of their precision microsurgery robots for two rage-spittle-covered days straight to assemble a replica of the Emma Maersk inside a 500mL 7-Up bottle, but by the time I spitefully showed it to him he had completely forgotten about our conversation.

So, if you're like me and trying to stretch out a hobby to the point where it becomes no longer enjoyable, don't stop. Evaluate your motivations, though. Find a reason to do it out of spite. That'll keep you warm on the coldest nights of wondering what exact part in this billions-of-parts arrangement has decided to conk out long before you were even involved. And if you know a wealthy shipping magnate who wants to commission a bunch of weird-looking little boats inside pop bottles, you know where I am. Unless you're a replicant. That'll cost extra.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[nanabansama]

scorpion's heart

Sometimes while thinking about TBHK thoughts will run through my head that I realize aren't universal among the fandom. I have actually touched upon this topic before, but I still wanted to make a quick post for the uninformed about an official parallel drawn between Tsukasa and a moment in a beloved piece of Japanese literature.

Night on the Galactic Railroad is a classic Japanese novel often taught in Japanese classrooms, similar to how English classics will often be taught in the Anglosphere. It's well known in Japan for this reason, and for the sake of this post I'll assume you either haven't heard of it or that you don't know much about it. Regardless, this post is centering on only a small portion of the novel, so you won't come away from it with a total understanding of what it's all about. I encourage you to check it out yourself!

As you might be able to tell by the name, the story involves a boy riding a train through a fantastical version of outerspace. During his trip through the cosmos, he meets others riding the train. One of these people tells him the story of Antares, the brightest star in the constellation Scorpio. Already there is one connection to the story of Hanako-kun, that being Amane's infamous monologue about the star during the Picture Perfect arc.

The story goes as follows: a scorpion was being chased by a weasel. In a last ditch effort to escape the weasel, it threw itself into a well. But the scorpion had no means of escape, and realized it was going to die there. The scorpion bemoans this fate, because as a predator it has only ever taken life away. It regrets not taking the chance to help the weasel, even if it would only help the weasel live a single day longer. And now the scorpion is going to die having helped no one.

So it prays to God, and asks that its body be used to bring happiness to everyone. And as if God had heard its plea, the scorpion's body burst into a brilliant red flame. This same light is said to be the star Antares, the heart of the Scorpio constellation.

...so! Already somewhat superficially you can compare this story to Tsukasa and the Red House. Little guy jumps into hole/well,

little guy makes a wish to a God to bring happiness to others,

little guy bursts into flames...

Personally I find these alone to be staggering similarities, but it leaves you asking: What is the significance of this?

Well, I tend to interpret it as a reflection of Tsukasa's selflessness. I think Tsukasa's intentions as a child were very pure. But later on it seems like this selflessness distorts into something else, something more twisted. Regardless, Tsukasa's motivations involve destroying himself for other people's happiness. His own destruction will bring happiness to Sakura (she needs all the yorishiro to be destroyed to have her wish granted) and also Amane, who has a wish of his own he wants granted.

Anyway, besides Amane comparing himself to Antares in Picture Perfect, we also have this official Night on the Galactic Railroad AU art with Tsukasa bearing the tail of the scorpion:

Note the red flame on the tip of his stinger. (And most importantly note his cuteness. 🦂🔥❤️)

Touching briefly upon Amane's Antares story in Picture Perfect, there aren't many obvious comparisons to draw between it and Night on the Galactic Railroad. However, one thing I'll touch upon is how Antares is a binary star, or a "twin star." It being a binary star isn't talked about in Night on the Galactic Railroad, but Amane mentions it. He also mentions how you can't normally see its twin. This is because its twin is a main sequence star, much less bright than the red supergiant Antares. It was only ever discovered that Antares had a twin when the moon covered the red supergiant and an astromer spotted the main sequence star beside it. Perhaps Amane and Tsukasa are supposed to represent the red flame of Antares in different ways, but it does make me wonder if Amane is meant to represent the little main sequence star too, since Tsukasa is very clearly the red flame in this story. But considering Amane's analysis of Antares is so much more scientific than the fantastical version seen in Night on the Galactic Railroad, I think it's safer to regard these as fundamentally separate stories. Still fun to consider however.

But if we did want to talk about the scientific implications of Tsukasa being Antares, I'd bring up how red supergiants often become black holes, almost the antithesis of what the scorpion wanted to become. The scorpion wanted to bring light and happiness to everyone, but a black hole only devours and destroys, just the thing the scorpion didn't want to be anymore. I don't think Tsukasa started in the same place as the scorpion, who regretted its life of selfishness... but it makes me wonder if he's meant to be the anti-scorpion: a selfless being becoming a black hole of destruction. That's a very sad way of looking at things, but it's hard not to think of it when we see what's happened to him in the series as a whole:

In the context of Night on the Galactic Railroad, the scorpion is regarded as a selfless hero. Although another character expresses distastes for dangerous creatures like the scorpion, the character who tells the Antares story argues that the scorpion is a fundamentally good creature. It's another one of those little things in Hanako-kun that reminds me that Tsukasa, for all his faults, has good inside him too. But it does leave me wondering how far this comparison will go, and what that means for Tsukasa's fate. Will he continue to sacrifice himself till the end? And will that sacrifice be for the good of everyone, or only a few?

My favorite part about all this is there's no answer! It's just a fun comparison AidaIro made that helps recontextualize Tsukasa's character. Is this a meaningful comparison, or just a surface-level one? Will his story end the same way as the scorpion, or will he subvert expectations? Who knows! I mostly just think back on it and remember that Tsukasa started as an extremely selfless character that still displays these traits in the manga today, even as a nefarious ghost. Maybe he is isn't misunderstood like the scorpion, but he's certainly just as tragic. Thanks for reading!

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hi! do you write for rottmnt?? and if requests are open can I ask for a leoxreader imagine where Mikey realises the reader has a crush on Leo and has to bring out dr.Feelings? Thank you :))

Dr Feelings | Leonardo

hi! yes, i do write for rise, i just haven't gotten around to actually doing anything for it yet! until now - obviously. and requests are open so don't hesitate if you want to request, people!!

this is leo x reader but mikey is the turtle most present for obvious reasons. and i think i might make a second part including the slideshow, especially if you guys like this one! you better like it

warnings: some swearing but that's it? mentions of a bar, i suppose. everyone is 18+!! rise of the tmnt

summary: your crush on leo is painfully obvious and mikey thinks you're overdue a checkup with dr feelings

word count: 782, short and sweet

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You grumbled under your breath, tapping your umbrella against your thigh as you watched Leo flirt with a random yōkai at the other side of the bar. “Fucking loser,” you hissed to yourself.

Having a crush on someone who flirted just as much as they breathed was the worst thing to ever happen to you and you resisted the urge to claw at your face, itching to sink your nails into the flesh of your cheeks as you shot the pair another (not-so) discreet glower.

The yōkai was pretty, you had to admit. Their fur looked as soft as silk despite the rain (that had made you look like a drowned rat – no offence, Splinter – despite being adequately prepared for the weather), their muscles were chiselled and huge, and their crooked grin would make anyone swoon. It was kind of making you swoon too, actually.

You turned away with a bitter scowl only to find Mikey beaming widely at you. His eyes flitted between you and Leo, still loudly flirting, and you wondered if you’d have enough time to bolt for the exit without being tackled by a mutant turtle as the gleam in Mikey’s eyes somehow shone brighter. “Angelo… don’t do it…”

His hands were moving and without thinking, you lunged for him, ignoring Raph’s indignant “HEY!” as you shoved him out of the way, not caring as drinks toppled to the floor. Mikey dodged with ease and by the time you dragged yourself back to your stool, he’d managed to slide his glasses neatly into place. “That’s Dr Feelings to you,” he said with a calm smile. "You're overdue a checkup."

There was a free path to the exit, and you glanced at it quickly. It wasn’t too far, you reasoned with yourself; it would take, what, 20 seconds if you put your back into it? Taking Mikey out had failed pitifully, and you knew you had to run for it if you wanted to preserve any dignity. Donnie was closest to the doorway, but you had faith that he wasn’t paying much attention to you or his brothers, so you shifted in your seat, sliding down slowly to plant your feet firmly to the floor as you bent your knees and prepared to race faster than you ever had before.

“Don’t you dare.”

You swallowed at Mikey’s warning tone. Taking an extra peek behind you and seeing Leo still entertaining someone that wasn’t you, you threw your umbrella at the orange-masked turtle and bolted. He cursed your name as it hit him directly in the chest and you could taste freedom as you reached the exit in record time.

Just as your foot reached the threshold, you felt yourself be drawn back with a force that knocked the breath out of your lungs. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, hauling you back to your seat as if you weighed no more than a feather, and you swore loudly. “You fucking traitor!” No one in the bar even glanced in your direction and you swore at them too for good measure.

Raph shrugged unrepentantly and sat you down beside him once more. "Language."

Mikey’s eyes fixed on you, and you felt yourself wilt under the intensity of his relentless stare. He held your umbrella pointedly and you winced at the very noticeable wet mark staining his shirt. “You are incredibly lucky that Dr Delicate Touch is on vacation,” he told you stiffly.

“I don’t need to talk about my feelings,” you sniffed, crossing your arms defensively.

“Scoff!” Maybe Donnie was paying more attention that you had thought.

“Scoffed at by Dr Feelings’ number one patient, how shall I ever recover?”

Mikey ignored you both, instead focusing on something over your shoulder. “Leo is making out with–”

Your neck cracked loudly (man, that was going to absolutely kill you later) with the speed at which you snapped your head towards the scene behind you. “Oh, you little shit.”

Leo looked over from his conversation (where he was definitely not kissing anyone), feeling your gaze on him for the umpteenth time that night. The red crescents curling over and decorating his cheeks were stark against his green skin, eyes bright and playful, and you felt pathetic as you flushed and waved awkwardly back at the teasing wiggle of his fingers.

Mikey just smiled that maniacal smile again when you turned around to face him. “I have a slideshow waiting for you at home, and you will be sitting through it.”

Your face was burning and all you could do was sink deeper into your stool as Raph patted your shoulder sympathetically. So much for preserving dignity, you thought miserably.

[primrosebow]

YES PLEASE, part 2 😻 I would also LOVE to see his legs spread for us... Or maybe we forcefully spread them :3 either way I love you're art it's so hot, Lucifer's so hot. Just NEED to manhandle him 😞

-💌 anon (idk if that's been used, if so then 🐕 anon)

AH! MY KNIGHT! YOU WILL BE REWARDED HANDSOMELY FOR YOUR COURAGE IN STEPPING INTO MY INBOX!

_-->Lucifer x reader // pt 2🍎

//

!content warnings!: nsfw, edging (AAAHAHAHAA!!!! THE FIRST KINK NAME THAT I ACTUALLY FIGURED OUT! it's pretty self explanatory, but I'm proud of me so shut) probably other kinks but, again, nun. andddd a wee lil more writing compared to my other posts

Shoutout to 💌 anon‼️‼️

//

//

The air is thick with tension as lucifer catches his breath, tears running down his now hot face. He's completly oblivious to the atmosphere, however- he's too deep in pleasure to even realize what he'd just done.

You had explicitly told him not to cum, going as far as edging him for the last few minutes, but, of course he couldn't keep it down, in the same way he hadn't lowered his teasing, which was the exact behavior that had gotten him into this predicament. You see; Lucifer is honestly one of the best you could have ever dreamt for, wealthy, stunningly gorgeous, funny, patient- wait. Scratch that last part. He's not patient at all. When he wants something, he'll do whatever it takes to get it. And that time, it was to get you to have him as you pleased.

You honestly didn't know what had gotten into him, he'd been teasing you for the last several days with no signs of giving up -what was his goal with this?- you thought, whenever he'd litter kisses along your neck and imediatelly turn around and speed off to do god knows what. Whenever he'd lay on your lap and arch into you, displaying his body for you, only to turn around and act like nothing happened within a split second, even touching your sensitive spots and acting oblivious. Whenever- actually, you could go on all day long. And right now, he'd finally realized what he did.

His expression flows from one of relief into one of guilt. He turns his head from you, snapping his eyes down to your hand over his still painfully hard dick before dragging them back up when the sight alone had made him twitch in your hands.

His thighs had been strongly pressed against your arm before you used your other hand to make Lucifer look at you. He looked frustrated, ashamed, confused- why all of that? Because this wasn't the outcome he expected. He thought you'd have your way with him, bend him over the nearest flat surface and fuck him out of his mind, he thought you'd overstimulate him until he couldn't think of another thing other than the sting of his drawn out pleasure, thought you'd be rough with him.

But no, you were gentle.

With your actions, at least. Your words were pure venom. "You want to get treated like some desperate slut, huh?" "You look down on those sinners but you're no fucking better." "You're already drooling? My god you're pathetic." "You haven't earned my touch- much less the right to cum. You've been nothing but an inconvenience, you're lucky I'm even doing this" as you so gently jerked him off with the most delicate touches, holding his hand, ghosting your lips over his neck and moved the hair out of his face. The juxtaposition from the two extremes of your words and actions drove him insane- he just couldn't deal with it, you were tearing down his whole being by the second- and eventually, he couldn't hold himself anymore.

You don't spare him a word as you push his legs apart and watch them tremble to stay open for you as rushed apologies and poor excuses left his mouth. Before he could continue with his apologies, you roughly rub your fingers over his tip, earning a broken, fucked out moan from him, his tail a dead giveaway of his enjoyment of the new treatment.

"Is this what you wanted?" Was your unamused response. You kept going at the much rougher pace you had just now set, his eyes fought to remain open as more tears flow out of his red, glowing eyes; he wasn't prepared for such intensity after what you had put him through "aah- mh- w-wait -oh goodness- please! Have mercy!" His pleading falls on deaf ears as you continue at your current movement. The king of hell had his pride completly broken, and you weren't even close to being done with him.

Ah, seems like the two of you have a long night ahead of you

//

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I just found out about weevils I am not the same woman I was 10 minutes ago. I love these stupid little guys. I love them so much. I love weevils.

Sorry for dying I'm back tho with like a truckload of stuff in mind to tell yall abt. Also I don't proofread or anything this is like as raw as it gets.

Ermm @ ing @bigfatbimbo because this mf into lucifer FOR REAL💪💪