#I passed 300 notes

[bibbumblebee]

I know we’ll probably never get any information on Phoenix’s parents, but I refuse to believe his mom is named anything other than Miranda.

Miranda Wright.

[deviantly-inspired]

Sweating nervously in the light of day because this one took off and I didn’t so much as skim over it for typos before posting

Ok so I've seen the idea of food 'made with love' being what Dream enjoys most but I really think we, as a collective fandom, need to lean in more to the idea of it, actually.

We KNOW from the comics that Dream eats food; that he was starving after his freedom. But even though he's hungry, even in the waking world, he won't eat because there's been nothing but bad intentions and malice directed to him for over a hundred years. He's wary. Like a spooked horsed.

But Hob Gadling has always been so unashamedly fond of Dream, that it's... tempting. to indulge.

(it's more than tempting. He's already starving: for dreams for nightmares for softness for sharpness. Hob is the only person Dream knows that he would take any of it from. If Hob were to offer him poison then Dream would take it gladly, if only to have something to fill the void within him. How miraculous it is, then, that Hob would only every offer succor)

So maybe Dream stares at some home-made food that's being eaten on some picnic while they're about. And Hob needles him just a bit, trying to get some information. What all goes into being Dream of the Endless? And Dream enjoys their wordplay and games so he dances around answering but his gaze keeps going back to that soft little picnic, not too far. Hob steers the conversation towards intent, and Dream admits that, yes, he can sense the intent things are made with, before directing the conversation to something a little safer then the art of consuming.

(Dream would take and take and take and take anything that Hob would give him. Even poison. And would thank him for the malaise of it. It is safer, then, to not let even the hint of hunger touch his waking form.)

But Hob didn't get to over 600 by being a slouch on his academics. He's smart. perceptive. He knows people, and Dream is certainly a 'people' even if he's not quite a person. So he makes something simple, that night. A stew maybe, and thinks of his mother's care and simple wishes whispered to the cast iron. love and kitchen magic. Spells for healthy children and a meal that will fill for longer than it should. Hob wonders, to this day, if maybe she was some sort of real witch and not just the magic that all good mothers are. But he can't ask her so he whispers wishes into his potatoes and encourages the bone to seep fully- he's going to be all bones like you if you don't fill him up- and thanks the meat for it's part and imagines it sticking to the inside of whatever Dream calls ribs to keep him going for a bit longer than he might have otherwise.

(there's all sorts of magic in the world. most of it regular folks will never get to touch. but there is a type of magic, the oldest kind, that's alive and well even in the most scientifically inclined people.)

Hob presents this stew casually. There's no fooling Dream though. It's simple appearance does nothing to hide all that was poured into it. The way the vegetables sing of harbors and the meat dreams of comfort. How the broth simmers with comfort and fullness and broken bread over centuries. love thickens the whole of it into something that will last. Something that will stick and keep him full long past when he should be hungry. To fill the most ravenous parts of him. He wants to consume. He cannot.

I shouldn't, Dream says.

It's yours, Hob replies. I made too much anyway. Wouldn't want this to go to waste.

The idea of it wasting, left to rot, a gift returned, is abhorrent. Dream never claimed to abide by the mortal concept of good. He eats the stew, and then the second bowl and then the third. And hob is only too happy to give him more and more and more, until the pot is empty and, still, Dream starves.

I shouldn't, Dream says with his eyes locked on Hob's lips.

I'm yours, Hob replies. I've always been yours. There's enough of me to pour into you, however much you want for however long you want.

I will want you endlessly, Dream warns with what little strength he has. There is nothing in me that does not hunger. I was born of Night most of all and this means that I know what it is to be a black hole, i know what it is to consume everything, even light, and still never be full.

Hob smiles and leans forward and pours himself into Dream's mouth, all of himself, all that he can spare and then more and more and more. He tastes like lightening and warm broth and bread broken under starry skies. It tastes like every daydream Hob has had for 600 years. It tastes like the knowledge that this will last, sticking to the inside of his ribs warming from within bolstering against that which would sap the meat from your bones. It tastes like something that will last.

(the oldest magic across every universe is love, of course. but you knew that already.

All stories return to their original form, after all.)

[sometimesanalice]

Dream a Little Dream

Summary: After a long week away in Lemoore, all Bradley wants to do is come home to you. The only thing is, you’re just not where he expects to find you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: so much fluff and a truly smitten Bradley Bradshaw (mdni)

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley throws his head back and lets out low groan as he hits another red light.

Nothing in the past week he’d spent up in Lemoore had felt as long as this drive home from base.

Not the stuffy dinner with the higher ups that had Mav and him exchanging looks from across the table, both of them clearly wishing to be anywhere else than done up in their Dress Whites. Not the long nights sharing a room with Hangman, who snored louder than the multiple phone alarms that he’d kept snoozing instead of turning off, as if the scratchy Navy provided sheets weren’t bad enough on their own. Not the drills or the lectures or the reviewing of the new procedural guidelines or equipment requirements with the crew stationed up there.

He'd felt the all the tension that had been building up over the week melt off of him the moment he’d turned the key in the ignition- the engine to the Bronco rumbling to life after a week of sitting on a parking lot on North Island- knowing that he was finally on his way home.

Technically, he was on his way to your apartment. But it was the same difference to him.

Wherever you were was where he wanted to be.

That was home. You were home.

Minus the fact that the San Diego traffic controllers seemed to have it out for him.

He thought for a moment he’d make it to your place in record time considering that there weren’t many people on the road a 2am. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the radio on, but even 105.3 THE ROCK where hits go to die would be preferable to the way he was agitatedly drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. But he was stubborn and now he left it off out of spite when his drive became a game of ‘How Many Times Will Rooster Hit The Red’.

It had been more stop than go at this point.

“Finally,” Bradley mumbles to himself when the light turns green and shifts out of neutral into first.

When Jake had dropped him off at base after their five-hour road trip back to San Diego, he’d decided to suck it up and stick around to get some of the paperwork that he’d been putting off out of the way so that he could enjoy the days off he had lined up after the trip. He might have lost track of time and caught a second wind filling out flight logs with only the whir of the overhead fluorescents to keep him company, working until he reached the point where he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes opened anymore. His eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute he stayed seated at the desk he’d commandeered to work at.

It had been a week of sleeping like shit. And not just because of the creaky, lumpy mattress or Hangman’s snoring. But because he’d gotten used to your soft, warm body pressed against his and the sound of your gentle breathing to lull him to sleep. He’d had a taste of what true luxury was like and now it was hard to go back to the bare minimum he’d known before.

He’d known even before he’d left the building that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless you were tucked against him. He’d barely slept 300 miles away from you, but it would have been even worse to go back to his condo knowing you were closer than ever and yet still so far.

Being in the same city wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be under the same roof, under the same covers.

Four red lights later, he’s turning onto your block. By some kind of miracle there’s an open spot big enough for the Bronco near the main entry without him having to maneuver into it with too much effort. It’s another reason why he’s dying to have you move in with him, the parking at your apartment complex is trash. And there are never enough guest spots, even with the parking pass he kept in his glove box.

Bradley lets himself in to your apartment as quietly as he can, opening the door slowly as to not wake you. The spare key you’d given him when you’d first moved here had lived on his own set of keys for the last couple of years, along with the fighter jet keychain you’d picked up for him when the two of you were teens during a family trip to Pensacola as thanks for looking after your hermit crabs. Even if one of them did lose a claw on his watch, which he’d felt guilty about for days, until you told him it would most likely grow back.

He’d never had a lot to be sentimental about, but that keychain with the charm whose silver finish had long been worn off around the edges was one of the few things that had been everywhere with him, so it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He gingerly sets the key on the console table you had near the front door, trying to keep them from clattering together. Carefully, he toes his boots off and sets his bag down next to them, making sure to keep it off the runner you had in the entryway. He knew you wouldn’t care if he tracked in some dirt on it, but he did.

One of the things he’s always liked about your apartment is how lived in it was.

Even in the dark, Bradley could make out the ruffly curtains you’d hung up over the door to your balcony. And the impressive gallery wall that framed your TV, one that was a mix of your own photos and art that you’ve accumulated along the way. There were more pillows than he thought was necessary on your couch, but made for one of his favorite afternoon nap spots. You usually had fresh flowers on your coffee table, the ones there now from what he could tell looked a little wilted, so he made a note to pick you up something from the shop next to the grocery store when he goes out to restock his fridge.

He lightly treads past your kitchen- and the two different types of coffee makers you had lined up on the countertop- towards your bedroom.

Bradley could already see it in his mind’s eye. The curve of the dip of your waist as you slept under your white comforter with the light blue piping along the edges. Always with a foot kicked out. The framed picture of the two of you on your nightstand. The chair in the corner where your pile of folded-and-to-be-put-away-later clean clothes sat. Your dresser topped with some leafy green thing and your tray of jewelry, where you’d cleared out not one but three drawers - which was a whole half of wooden unit he’d helped you build when you first moved in- for him to use for his things. Not to mention space in your closest too and room on the shoe rack you kept in there.

It was more than what he needed, but that was you. You’d always been the type to go above and beyond for the people you cared about. But now it meant more because you weren’t just sharing your space with him, you were sharing your life with him.

The blinds aren’t pulled closed, so your room is illumined with more city light than he was expecting. And he can see with clarity that everything is in its place.

The picture of him kissing your cheek- your nose scrunched up in that way he knows so well- in the grassy park where you’d surprised him with a showing of one of his favorite movies on one of your first dates together. The white linen covered chair with your clothes had an old sweatshirt of his tossed over the back of it that he knows if he were to pick it up would smell more like you than him. The plant in the white ceramic vase on your dresser was one you’d bought at the farmer’s market almost two years ago now to commemorate your big move there, you’d proudly carried it around for the rest of the morning while he’d carried your ever-growing collection of bags.

Everything right where it should be, except for you.

Your bed is perfectly made up. Well, the side he usually sleeps on is. The are corners still tucked in with the same crisp precision you use to wrap presents. The right side, however, looks like the comforter and sheets were hastily thrown back, a rumpled pile of fabric in the spot where he thought you’d be sleeping.

There’s only one other place where you would be.

Bradley doesn’t even try to quiet his steps as he struts back towards the door with a new destination in mind. He shoves his feet back into his boots, not bothering to retie his laces, as he scoops his keys out of the little bowl he’d just put them in barely even five minutes ago. Only slowing down long enough to make sure he’s properly locked the door behind him before he’s back in the Bronco for the second time that night.

This time the drive feels like nothing. Especially since he hits green lights all the way there.

His lips turn up in an automatic smile when he sees your all-too-practical white Honda Civic parked in the drive way of his condo. He doesn’t think he could find the words to describe the feeling that wells up in his chest at the sight of it.

It just felt right.

Bradley lets himself in, using his own key this time.  

His condo had always felt more like a place to land, rather than a home. Over the last few months though that feeling has changed for him.

For Bradley’s whole life things have felt temporary. The people he met. The things he owned. The bases he lived on. You made him crave permanence in a way he’d never experienced before. The two of you had a couple decades worth of history, but he knew he couldn’t be truly content until his ring was on your finger and you shared his last name.

He can see your fingerprints in this space from the knit blanket draped on his couch to the framed print on the wall over the breakfast nook. He can see the promise of a future together in the fancier-than-he’s-used-to coffee maker on the kitchen counter.

It’s quiet, but not the empty kind.

The light above the stove is turned on illuminating the kitchen.

That was usually his final task of the night before going to bed. Flicking off the brighter overheads in exchange for the softer one that gave him just enough light to avoid crashing into things in the darkness if he woke up in the middle of the night and was on the hunt for something to eat or drink while still half-asleep.

Although it hits him now that he can’t remember the last time he’s turned it on himself.

It was something he’d noticed that you didn’t do at your own apartment when the two of you had first started sleeping together. But now if he thinks back on it, every glass of cool water out of the filtering pitcher you kept in the fridge and every bowl of late-night cereal he’s had that little light has been on to guide him into the kitchen while you slept peacefully in bed.

It’s a realization that lands squarely behind his ribcage.

Bradley kicks his boots off next to your sandals by the door and turns the lock back into place behind him. Normally, he’d take them up to be put away in their proper place, but for now he’s got other more important things on his mind.

He takes the stairs two at a time as soundlessly as he can, avoiding the step that sometimes pops. The first door on the left has been left slightly ajar, just wide enough for him to slip into.

there you are, his heart registers before his eyes do.

Tucked under the green comforter- with that one foot kicked out- on the wooden canopy bed he’d recently purchased is you.

He couldn’t fight back the smile on his face that the sight of you curled up there on his side of the bed, with your face pressed into his pillow, even if he wanted to.

Bradley still doesn’t know how he got to be so lucky that he gets to be the one to see you like this, at complete ease as you sleep, as relaxed in his bed as you are in your own. He’s grateful for every morning he gets to wake up with you and every night he gets to fall asleep with you in his arms.

It’s never been like this for him, not before you. It’s a good thing he’s already told you he loved you, otherwise he doesn’t think he could have been able to hold himself back from waking you up right here and now to tell you.

Quietly, he steps up the side of the bed, taking a moment to admire you looking soft and warm and like everything he could ever want. The few FaceTime calls the two of you had had over the course of the week couldn’t even begin to capture just how beautiful you were. Bradley leans down to brush a featherlight kiss against your temple and straightens back up. You let out a contented hmm, and he hopes you’re dreaming of him.

He’s never needed anything more than to be under those covers with you.

Bradley undresses quickly in the walk-in closet and strips down to his boxer briefs, leaving his khakis to decorate the floor until sometime later when the sun was back up in the sky. Realizing as he takes off his watch that in his rush to get here that he’d left his bag with all his other laundry by the door at your apartment. A grunt of exasperation escapes him, and he’s glad that you’re a deep sleeper and the fact he keeps his baseball bat in the garage. Especially since he’s the one that taught you how to power swing.

The only sound in the room is of your even breaths and his carpet-muffled footsteps as he pads across the room. He lifts up the covers on your side of them bed and slides into the cool sheets, the stiffness in his joints loosening at the contact, and scoots in closer until he can feel your warmth.

He’d been in San Diego for the better part of four hours now, but he hadn’t been truly home until about thirty seconds ago.

Bradley debates for a split-second whether or not to let you sleep or if he should wake you up so you’re not startled to find a 6’ 1” aviator back in bed with you. But he knows you well enough to make an educated guess. He murmurs your name, rubbing a hand gently up and down along your back, and presses his lips together when you let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

You jolt a little as you ease back into consciousness. “B-bradley?”

“It’s just me,” he hums in confirmation as he squeezes your hip, all sleep-warmed skin under his palm. He doesn’t miss the way you relax instantly against him at the sound of his voice, settling further back into him.

“You’re home early.” You reach back for him, your hand finding the base of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp as you weave your fingers through his hair.

“Mav either pulled some strings or took one for the team by staying another day, but we all jumped at the chance to get out of Le-snore early.” You let out a little snort at that.

“’re you hungry?” you offer sleepily, the words a bit slurred and strung together. “Do you want me to make you something?” Bradley is equal parts amused and endeared that you’re not even half way awake yet and wanting to look after him.

His sweet girl.

He presses an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck and wonders if you can feel his soft smile, the one that’s reserved for only you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder, “I promise.”

He’d snagged a couple protein bars from the mess on base and had scarfed them down as he filled out his overdue flight logs. But also, there was no way he was getting out of this bed now that he was in it. Not for anything in the world.  

Bradley leans in close, letting his lips skim against your ear, “You know this could count as breaking and entering, kid. Always knew that good girl thing was just an act.”

You lightly tug on his hair. “I don’t think that would hold up in court of law seeing as you gave me a key and all,” you retort, you voice still low and raspy from sleep.

“I’m pretty sure I gave my best friend a key,” he drawls, teasingly, “Don’t remember giving my girlfriend one though.” He drops a kiss to your soft-cotton covered shoulder. The shirt you were wearing was one he’d completely forgotten about until you sent him that picture of you in bed sometime past 2am in the early days of when you’d started dating, before the two of you had sex for the first time. His name was printed on the back- right at the very top- along with all the other players on the Washington High Cardinals baseball team from the year they���d won the championship. “Think ‘m going to have to fix that.”

You shake your head amused into his pillow before looking at him from over your shoulder and turning to lean back into his chest. When your eyes meet, there’s nothing but fondness reflected in them. Yours is a face he’s known most of his life, he could read you as easily as any book, and it’s even more apparent just a few inches away from his just how happy you are to see him.

He slides a hand around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he drinks you in. His eyes travel over your forehead, and along the curve of your cheekbones, and down the bridge of your nose, and lands on the dimples framing your smile.

thereyouarethereyouare

Bradley dips down to kiss you for the first time in a week. Your lips part easily, like you’ve been waiting for this too. There’s no rush. Your kiss is slow like honey off a spoon. Just as sweet as it’s meant to be savored. And there’s no doubt in his mind that this was always how it was supposed to be.

You and him.

Him and you.

Together.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, warmly.

“Hi, Bradley.” You tilt your head up for another kiss, one he has no intention withholding from you. “I missed you.”

It’s a new feeling for him, knowing he has someone to miss him when he is away. And having someone to miss in return. It’s been a long time since he’s had that in any real way that truly mattered. Bradley knows he’s due for a deployment soon, one that’ll take him from you- from this bed- for months. He’s already found the perfect thing to give you for when he leaves, something to show you how he’ll be thinking of you. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that inevitable reality.

For now, he just wants to share your warmth and focus on the feel of you pressed against him. Enjoying the luxury of getting to have this with you.

He just lets himself hold you the way you deserve to be held. He lets himself kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved for as long as you’ll have him.

“I missed you too.” Whispering your name because he likes feel of it in his mouth.

“I think I was having a dream about you,” you murmur against his lips.

Bradley grins. “Yeah? Was it dirty?” You laugh in response, it’s his favorite sound. Happy. You make him so damn happy. He buries his face in the nook where your neck meets your shoulder and breathes you in. Lavender and cedar. Your favorite lotion to put on before bed, and something of his that he can’t put his finger on. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I took a shower before bed, used your body wash,” you tell him, running your hand along his arm. He senses you smile before he hears it. “And you smell like Jake.”

He groans and rubs the coarse hairs of his mustache against the soft skin of your neck. You giggle and try to squirm away from his prickly retaliation, but he’s got you basically pinned to the bed now. All your perfect curves against his firm angles.

“I can’t believe he’s still using a black ice tree air freshener like a damn sixteen-year-old,” Bradley grumbles. As if him and Seresin hadn’t spent enough quality time together over the week, now he was basically in bed with him and his girlfriend.

“At least you’ll know what to get him for his birthday,” you offer less than helpfully, playfully nudging his foot with yours.

Bradley chuckles and props himself up on an arm to gaze at you. He can feel the need for sleep settling over him, the long day and the longer week catching up with him that now he’s home and here with you. He can tell you’re drowsy too from the dewy way you’re blinking at him, and appreciative that you’re indulging him in this bit of pillow talk. In the quiet of his bedroom, he admits, “I went to your apartment first.”

You look almost bashful when you say, “I like these sheets better.” Both of you know that’s not your real answer for why you’re in his bed instead of yours.

He lifts an eye brow, meaningfully. “You have the same ones at your place.” Bradley knows because he made sure to check and buy the same kind for his own bed.

“Semantics,” you reply, breezily. Although he catches a hint of a pleased smile before you lean into trail a few kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Do you want your side of the bed back?” you ask.

“It’s our bed, sweet girl. You can sleep wherever you want,” Bradley says, “I’m good just as long as I can hold my girl.”

You thumb at the dimple of his chin, gazing up at him, “Have you gotten much sleep this week?”

Bradley just hums in response.

The softest of looks coast over your face. Understanding, sympathy, tenderness. It’s all there painted on your face from the little furrow between your eyebrows to the thoughtful search in your eyes as you read his face in return. He didn’t even say a word and you’ve got him figured out.

You tug on his arm and turn back over, taking him with you. Snuggling in so that your body is cradled closer to his, his chest all but pressed against your back. He slides his arm under your pillow and finds your other hand, threading his larger fingers between your own.

He situates your pillow beneath his head, sighing as he gets comfortable on the supportive mattress. He runs his palm over the familiar dip of your waist as you stretch and burrow in further, getting ready to go back to sleep. His fingertips find the edge of your cotton underwear and he follows it over your hip and along the side of your stomach, slipping one under the band to stroke at the soft skin near your hipbone.

It's the same spot where he’d find you butterflies if the two of you weren’t reversed from the way you usually fall asleep facing the other direction. Their location was a pinpoint in his mind, memorized from the moment he’d seen them that very first night together. He liked imagining he could feel the delicate lines of them under his fingertips as he drifted to sleep.

He hears the almost inaudible catch of your breath at his touch. “In the morning,” he promises.

You make a half-hearted noise of dissatisfaction, already well on your way to falling back asleep. He feels more than a little self-satisfied that he’s the one getting these reactions from you, that you want his touch just as much as he wants yours.

“Tease.” You nestle in closer, your ass brushing against his cock in a way that leaves no question it had been done on purpose.

“Menace,” he chuckles, lightly.

You hum, a pleased sound and reach for his wrist, removing temptation for the both of you and slide his hand beneath your shirt right to the very spot above your bellybutton where he normal finds its drifted to during the night on the mornings he wakes up with you in his arms.

The two of you fit together better than he ever could have possibly imagined.

“Hey, kid, what’re you doing tomorrow? I wanted to take you to breakfast.”

“To the place with the banana pancakes?”

Kisses the crown of your head, and he thinks he hears you sigh. “Wherever you want.”

“I could get away with a little hooky,” you yawn, “Maybe we could go to the beach too. Wanna spend the day with you.”

Bradley pulls you in closer, and closes his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I can’t wait.” It’s more of a sleepy mumble than anything else, but he’s already looking forward to waking up.

He listens as your breathing slowly evens out, knowing when you’ve fully drifted off. It didn’t take you long, the way it never seems to when he’s in bed beside you.

Maybe one day soon he’ll get to have you here with him every night. But until then, this is more than enough, he’s happy to fall asleep with his dream girl tucked on his arm.

Bradley lets himself imagine the day where you come and stay and it’s for good this time, because all of your clothes are in the closet and your mail gets delivered along with his.

And it won’t be just his favorite dream, it’ll be his reality.

I will never not be down bad for a smitten Bradley Bradshaw! Thank you to @yourlocalcringydaydreamer for sending the ask that inspired this soft fic!

Thank you for reading!

You can read more about these two or check out all of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted  @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange 

[doyouknowthisanime]

Happy Halloween, everyone!

I've got some good news - I've finished tallying up the results of the favourite anime survey and can now, finally, reveal what Tumblr's favourite anime actually are. To start with, I'd like to thank everyone who responded - yes, all 1172 (wow!) of you - and to apologise for he delay in actually getting these results out. For anyone who needs a reminder, these results are based on how many points each anime received - a first place ranking was worth five points, a second or third place ranking was worth four, a fourth or fifth place ranking was worth three, a sixth-tenth place ranking was worth two, and a eleventh-twentieth place ranking was worth one. When multiple anime had the same number of points, the anime with the most first-place votes was placed higher. The results are below the read more right here - I hope you enjoy reading!

100. Yona of the Dawn - 82 points

99. Devilman Crybaby - 83 points

98. Monogatari Series - 83 points

97. Lucky Star - 84 points

96. Toradora - 84 points

95. Dr. Stone - 86 points

94. Princess Jellyfish - 86 points

93. ERASED - 87 points

92. Noragami - 87 points

91. Wolf's Rain - 88 points

90. Azumanga Daioh - 90 points

89. Paranoia Agent - 90 points

88. Odd Taxi - 91 points

87. Banana Fish - 93 points

86. Digimon Adventure - 95 points

85. Akira - 95 points

84. Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni - 95 points

83. Psycho-Pass - 96 points

82. Little Witch Academia - 96 points

81. Monster - 97 points

80. Mononoke - 98 points

79. Free! - 99 points

78. Kekkai Sensen - 99 points

77. Trigun Stampede - 102 points

76. Haibane Renmei - 103 points

75. Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters - 104 points

74. Gintama - 105 points

73. Violet Evergarden - 107 points

72. Dorohedoro - 113 points

71. Made in Abyss - 113 points

70. Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury - 113 points

69. Eizouken ni wa Te o Dasu na! - 115 points

68. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind - 116 points

67. SK8 the Infinity - 117 points

66. Samurai Champloo - 117 points

65. Your Name - 118 points

64. Castle in the Sky - 119 points

63. Perfect Blue - 119 points

62. Promare - 120 points

61. One Punch Man - 122 points

60. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya - 126 points

59. Kiki's Delivery Service - 129 points

58. Kaguya-sama: Love is War - 136 points

57. Inuyasha - 136 points

56. Assassination Classroom - 142 points

55. FLCL - 143 points

54. Pokémon - 144 points

53. Death Parade - 148 points

52. Dragon Ball - 150 points

51. Natsume Yuujinchou - 157 points

50. The Apothecary Diaries - 158 points

49. Revue Starlight - 159 points

48. Durarara!! - 160 points

47. Yu Yu Hakusho - 162 points

46. Naruto - 163 points

45. Black Butler - 165 points

44. Attack on Titan - 167 points

43. Houseki no Kuni - 168 points

42. Steins;Gate - 172 points

41. Cardcaptor Sakura - 186 points

40. Code Geass - 186 points.

39. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun - 187 points

38. The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. - 192 points

37. Kill la Kill - 194 points

36. Bungou Stray Dogs - 194 points

35. Baccano! - 198 points

34. Bocchi the Rock! - 201 points

33. Chainsaw Man - 208 points

32. Demon Slayer - 209 points

31. Serial Experiments Lain - 213 points

30. Jujutsu Kaisen - 227 points

29. Spy x Family - 236 points

28. Howl's Moving Castle - 238 points

27. Princess Mononoke - 240 points

26. Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann - 241 points

25. Sailor Moon - 249 points

24. Mushi-shi - 249 points

23. Princess Tutu - 254 points

22. Nichijou - 263 points

21. Trigun - 265 points

20. Spirited Away - 266 points

19. My Hero Academia - 266 points

18. Fruits Basket (2019) - 269 points

17. Soul Eater - 292 points

16. Sousou no Frieren - 300 points

15. Yuri!!! on Ice - 333 points

14. Fullmetal Alchemist - 364 points

13. Ouran High School Host Club - 374 points

12. Death Note - 437 points

11. Cowboy Bebop - 450 points

10. Haikyuu - 457 points

9. Neon Genesis Evangelion - 496 points

8. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure - 496 points

7. Hunter x Hunter (2011) - 516 points

6. Revolutionary Girl Utena - 537 points

5. One Piece - 633 points

4. Puella Magi Madoka Magica - 664 points

3. Mob Psycho 100 - 943 points

2. Dungeon Meshi - 985 points

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - 1106 points

Congratulations to FMA Brotherhood for winning! For more detailed results, go to this spreadsheet. Once again, thank you all for participating, and waiting so patiently for the results!

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Puppy Love

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a bit suggestive at some parts, language, more fluff

author’s note: this was totally meant to be a small lil blurb but then i ended up getting sucked into it and well…it ended up being a tiny bit longer than i thought.  also, there’s some legal jargon in here that i totally might’ve misused, don’t hate me! i’m not a lawyer i swear! anywho, i’m still pretty new to the whole writing thing so please go easy on me because i’m a crybaby

p.s. i stopped writing it in order to keep the word count from going through the roof, but if you guys would like a part two picking up right where this leaves off then i’m soooo into that, i really love these two!

word count: 5.3k

Let it be known, Eddie Waylon Munson was not a dog person.  This doesn’t mean that Eddie is a cat person either really, he’d actually be more inclined to categorize himself as a fish person, really.  Eddie can hardly take care of himself, who in the hell would think he could take care of another living being?

Steve fucking Harrington.  That’s who.

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would’ve turned him down in a heartbeat when he asked him to watch his Golden Retriever, Captain, for a week while he’s on vacation with his parents. 

“Dude, c’mon.  You owe me one.”

Eddie scoffed.  “Since when do I owe you one?”

“I–There must be something I’ve done for you…” Steve sighs ,”Haven’t I been letting you swim in my pool free of charge?”

“Yeah, me and every single other member of our party.”  Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, determined to stick to his answer of a hard no.

“Fine,” Steve huffs.  “What if I gave you three hundred bucks for it?”

At this new piece of information, Eddie perked up.  

“Well, well, well Harrington.  Why didn’t you just lead with that?”  The two boys shook hands, and that was that.

Eddie wishes he could’ve said no, but he unfortunately really needed the extra cash.  The weed business had been slow due to the fact that his usual richie-rich-asshole customers are all off “summering” with their rich families wherever it is that the rich families go to do that shit.  

Eddie figured that he could handle this.  Steve assured him that Captain is well trained thanks to the expensive trainers that his parents hired, plus Eddie would get to stay at Hotel de Harrington while he watched the dog.  Eddie will mind his business, Captain will do his own thing, and Eddie would be $300 richer at the end of it all.  Sweet digs and three hundred bucks is just something Eddie doesn’t have the heart to pass up these days.  

–

Eddie always manages to forget just how gi-fucking-normous the Harrington’s mansion house is.  As Steve leads him through the foyer and into the numerous hallways, Eddie figures he must look like he’s stepping into a house for the first time.  His jaw drops a little at the seemingly priceless artwork that hangs from the walls, the crystal vases lined up on shelves, and the expensive looking furniture placed meticulously all around the house.  He hopes to hell that he doesn’t find some way to fuck something up while he’s shacking up here.  

“I can’t believe you live in this art museum, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs.  “Yeah, it’s all nice and fancy until you think about the fact that all the dumb shit decorating this place could probably feed a small village.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, then hears an excited bark from the other room.

“Okay, time to meet the man himself.  Just warning you, he’s a hugger.”  Steve winks at Eddie and jogs to unlock the door to the backyard.  As soon as the glass door slides open, Eddie sees a blur of blonde fur coming towards him, and then all he can see is the ceiling.

Eddie quickly learns that this is because Captain has knocked him right on his ass.

Captain squirms on top of Eddie, trying his hardest to lick him all over his face and neck while Steve is bent over cackling at the whole ordeal. 

“Okay, okay buddy.  Thanks so much,” Eddie says unenthusiastically while glaring at Steve.  He gently shoves Captain off of him and stands back up, only to look down and realize that his all black outfit is now covered in little golden dog hairs.  This only causes Steve to laugh harder.

Steve straightens back up after being hunched over and sighs, “I warned you man,” then walks past Eddie and into the laundry room, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes.

Captain trots happily behind the boys as Steve shows Eddie where Captain’s food and water bowls are, how much to feed him and when, and where his leash and harness are.  Steve assures him that he doesn’t have to take Captain on a walk or anything if he doesn’t feel like it (he so does not), but he does have a grooming appointment scheduled on the day the Harrington’s set off on their vacation.

Eddie huffs at this revelation.

“I know man, I’m sorry.  My mom had apparently scheduled it months ago and forgot it was on the day we were leaving.  But it’s really easy I swear, you just drop him off at noon, and then pick him back up at three.  It’s already paid for and everything.”  Steve looks at Eddie apologetically, and Eddie figures it won’t be that bad.

–

Eddie was wrong.  He’s only been watching the dog for an hour and already he knows he’s not cut out for this shit.  Captain is stuck to Eddie like fucking velcro.  Who knew dogs could be so needy?  Eddie goes to sit on the couch?  Captain needs to sit right next to him.  Eddie needs to go to the kitchen to grab a drink?  Captain is practically stepping on his heels as he trails behind him.  Eddie has been pretty lenient so far, it’s only a week right?  But he’d had enough when Captain was demanding to follow him into the bathroom, pawing at the door and whining when Eddie wouldn’t let him in.  

Thank god for that goddamn grooming appointment.

Despite being only a couple hours into this gig, Eddie needed some alone time.  

Captain seemed just as excited to get out of the house when Eddie fought to put his harness on him.  He never thought he’d ever be spending a full ten minutes practically wrestling with a 70 pound dog, but Captain just wouldn’t sit still.  After all was said and done, Captain sat and waited next to the front door calmly, while Eddie emerged sweaty and breathing heavily.

–

The grooming salon ended up being only ten minutes away from Steve’s house, which Eddie was thankful for since Captain decided to sit shotgun and stare at Eddie the entire way over.  On the outside, the place looked fancy.  Eddie scoffed a bit at the Grecian columns bracketing the entrance, and the name of the salon printed in gold swoopy letters across the large window panes in the front.  He couldn’t believe people were willing to shell out enough cash to bring their dogs to a place like this all for a haircut.  Eddie looks over at Captain, who is of course staring at him…still, and sighs.

“Here goes nothing I guess.”

Eddie wrangles Captain out of his van and into the salon, hoping to God that these people wouldn’t be able to smell the poor on him.  

What actually occurred was quite the opposite.

Upon opening the glass doors, Eddie was hit with a whoosh of cool air and a small bell chimed to let the employees know that someone had walked in.  Captain was apparently very excited by the gust of air, and decided to jump in circles around and through Eddie’s legs.  While Eddie was caught up in detangling himself so he doesn’t fall flat on his face, he hadn’t noticed you walking up to them.  

“Hi there, need some help?” 

Eddie looked up and could’ve sworn he heard a choir of angels singing.

You stood there smiling at him, the prettiest girl Eddie had ever seen in his 24 years of life on Earth.  He doesn’t think he’d ever had someone smile at him like that before, but he knows he could definitely get used to it. 

While you were waiting for Eddie to respond, you noticed that his dog’s leash was still quite tangled around his legs.  Deciding to take things into your own hands, you take a few steps back and kneel down to the ground to call the dog to you.  He comes bounding up to you, causing his leash to slide smoothly out from under Eddie’s legs, rendering him untangled at last.

Eddie blinks, suddenly he’s untangled and Captain is jumping up onto you, ever the hugger.  

He finally gets his head out of his ass and jogs up to you, grabbing Captain’s leash and yanking him off of you.

“Bad boy, Captain.  We’re supposed to ask for consent before hugging pretty girls.”

Eddie is elated when he spots a blush crawling up your cheeks.  You stand and brush yourself off.

“It’s really okay.  Captain has my consent to hug me any time he wants!”  Your voice had risen to a puppy-talk octave, Eddie never imagined he’d find that so adorable.  You lean down again to scratch Captain behind the ears, and the dog looks up at you with stars in his eyes.  Eddie, having caught a whiff of your perfume as you bent down, is sporting the same look.

You straighten up with a happy sigh and look up at Eddie with a grin. 

“Well then, now that we’re all introduced, how can I help you?”

Eddie all at once forgets why he’s here, caught up in your beautiful gaze.  He feels like he should shield his eyes from yours, lest he burst into flames from taking in your beauty. 

“I’m—uh...I’m grooming.   N-no, that’s not right, sorry.”  You giggle quietly while he tries to finish his sentence.

Eddie laughs at his own stupidity.  

“Sorry.  He’s getting groomed, he should have an appointment under Harrington I think?”

“Sure, let me check on that.” You turn away from him to walk back towards the front desk, and boy is it a treat for Eddie.  You’re wearing a cute company t-shirt, white sneakers, and these perfect fucking denim jeans that cause Eddie’s to get a little tighter.  They must’ve been tailor-made for you with the way they’re hugging your thighs, your hips, your ass–

“Alright, I’m seeing that Captain is just here for his routine trim, yes?”  You look from your computer screen up at Eddie to find him already staring at you with his mouth slightly open.  The look on his face makes you giggle a bit, and this seems to snap him out of his daze.

“Uh, yes.  That sounds right.”  Eddie shakes his head a bit to rid himself of all the impure thoughts swirling around in there.  “I’m just bringing him in for a friend, so whatever’s on there should be right.”

You pretend to type some more as you try and find the will to push down the blush warming your cheeks.  You already clocked that he was gorgeous when he stumbled through the front doors, but how in the hell does he keep getting better?  You noticed the bulge of his bicep when he yanked Captain off of you, the warm chestnut color of his eyes, and now his super-sexy-deep voice?  Being turned on at work was not on your agenda today…

After a few seconds of nonsense typing and very deep breaths, you look back up at Eddie to find him smiling at you.

“That’s really sweet of you, to help out your friend.”

Eddie puffs out his chest (as though he hasn’t been mentally complaining about watching Steve’s dog for multiple hours).  

“Yeah, I do what I can to help.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders in a way he hopes comes across as ’Yeah baby, I’m just a helpful guy.  Super nice, super sweet, definitely boyfriend material..’

You grin and finish getting Captain all checked in.  

“Alrighty!  Captain’s all good to go.  I can get him taken back and then we’ll see you in three hours.”  

Your sweet smile has Eddie captivated until he realizes you’re holding your hand out for Captain’s leash.  Eddie reluctantly hands it over, because now he has to wait a whole three hours to see you again.  You take the leash, wave ‘bye’ to Eddie, and walk through the door that leads to the rest of the salon.  Eddie lets out a deep sigh.

Goddamnit.

—

Three hours turned out to feel more like three days when it meant waiting to see your face again.  Eddie arrived fifteen minutes early to the salon (a first) and waited anxiously for Captain’s scheduled pickup time to roll around.  Eddie strutted into the salon not a second too late before screeching to a halt.

In your place, stood a much older, much rounder lady.  Eddie deflated a little, cursing himself for not finding out if you’d even be here at this time.  He huffs out a breath, and begins walking up to the front desk. 

Then, a thought pops into his head.

Maybe, if he’s nice enough, he can ask the older woman about you.  Then at least he’d have your name and maybe even when you were working next!

Eddie decides it’s time to amp up the ol’ Munson Charm.

His tentative walk turns into a swagger-filled stroll as he reaches the front desk.  Eddie leans on an elbow and smiles a devilish smile down at the woman.  She looks up at him with wide eyes as he dings the silver bell that sits on the desk, winking at her while he does it.

“H-How can I help you sir?”

“Oh sweetheart, please…call me Eddie.”  He goes on after she spends a moment too long gazing up at him, “And who might you be?”

She gulps and straightens her horned glasses.  “B-Betty.  Betty Brown.”

“Hello, Betty Brown,” Eddie can tell his charming smile is having an effect on her, and he’d be lying if it wasn’t boosting his ego a tiny bit.  “I’m here to pick up my dog, Captain.  Brought him by a few hours ago to get his haircut…you know how he likes to impress the ladies.”

Betty nods and takes a deep breath before turning to the computer to try and hide her smile. 

“Okay, Mr. Eddie.  I checked him out with the card on file, he should be up here shortly.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Eddie waits a moment, before launching into his plan.  “I was actually hoping you could help me with a little something else.” 

Betty looks back up at him, blushing when they make eye contact.

“See, when I was in here earlier, there was a really nice girl helping me out.  But, silly me, I completely forgot to ask what her name was.”

To Eddie’s delight, Betty’s face lights up in recognition.  She says your name with so much glee that it’s obvious to him how loved you must be around here.

“Yes, she got off an hour ago.  She usually works the morning shifts, except on Fridays because those are her days off.”

Eddie quickly learned that underneath Betty’s bashful smile was a woman who loved to talk, and he couldn’t be happier for it.  Eddie quickly learned how long you’ve worked here, that you don’t have any pets of your own, and that last Christmas you brought the most delicious homemade cookies for the entire staff.  He also learned that you’ll be working again for the next two mornings.  

Eddie left with Captain and a smile on his face, but not before pressing a kiss to sweet, sweet Betty’s hand.  Thanks to her, Eddie’s confidence is restored and he actually thinks he might have a shot with you.  All he has to do now is figure out what his reasons will be for coming back to the salon two days in a row.  

–

He spent all evening pacing around the Harrington’s house trying to come up with excuses to come see you.  All of the ones he’d thought of so far made him look like even more of a jackass than he did today.  

I thought I might’ve dropped my wallet somewhere around here.  A gorgeous girl isn’t going to want to go out with a guy who drops his shit everywhere.  Pass.

I think Captain needs a little more of a haircut, maybe just another half inch off?  First of all, Eddie doesn’t know shit about haircuts.  He’s been doing his own with kitchen scissors in his bathroom mirror for over a decade.  Second, he would never risk potentially offending you and your work as a dog groomer on the off chance that you’re the one who cut Captain’s hair.  And lastly, for a dog, he’s got to admit that Captain looks pretty damn good after his appointment.  Who knew a dog could look so regal and majestic?  Anyways, PASS.

It was only after Eddie had plopped down on the leather couch with a huff of defeat that he heard the first few plinks of raindrops hitting the windows.  Eddie went to his phone to check the forecast for the rest of the night, and as luck would have it, there was a 100% chance of thunderstorms until tomorrow morning.  As all the pieces of his new plan began stitching themselves together, Eddie finally allowed himself to relax.

–

Eddie used to hate his “backyard,” if you could even call it that.  Behind the trailer was a medium sized patch of dirt, with some sorry-looking green plant-things trying their best to survive scattered about.  The only times Eddie would really look forward to going outside to play as a kid, much to Wayne’s dismay, was when it rained.  Because when it rained, the once dry and grainy surface turned into slippery, messy mud.  Eddie used to love sliding around and making mud pies and all of that stuff, and right now it seems like Captain is having just as much fun, if not more, than Eddie used to.  

The yard was fenced in, so Eddie wasn’t too worried about Captain running away despite Steve’s promises that he’s ‘leash-trained’.  Eddie planned to tell you otherwise though.

‘He just somehow managed to get away from me.  Yeah, I had to chase him all through the mud and dirt this morning.  But I caught him because I’m like, really fast and strong and stuff.’

He does feel a little guilty about lying to you.  But he figures that if it’s something the two of you can laugh over at your wedding someday, then it’s well worth the little white lies.

Eddie’s brought back from his reverie of you in a long, white dress by Captain dropping the mud-soaked tennis ball at his feet…again.

He couldn’t believe how much energy this dog had.  They’d already been out here for twenty minutes and Captain just kept going and going.  Eddie did have to admit, it was sort of fun watching him play.  He even found himself laughing out loud when Captain would get the ball stuck in a puddle of mud and not hesitate to dunk his entire head in to retrieve it.  There was even one point where Captain got so excited and amped up that he just zoomed around in circles over and over again. 

Maybe dogs aren’t so bad after all.

After another ten minutes of chasing around the now mud-covered tennis ball, Captain decides he’s done playing and sits down at Eddie’s feet.  Eddie can’t help but notice that he’s panting pretty hard.  “You must be thirsty, huh?”

Eddie runs inside the trailer to grab a tupperware bowl and fills it with cold water from the tap.  He hopes to god that Captain hasn’t run away already, he’s decided to really put Steve’s whole “leash training” thing to the test.  But sure enough, when Eddie shoves his front door open there he is, sitting nicely at the foot of the trailer’s steps.  Eddie pats his head, then promptly wipes the flaky, dried mud off onto his jeans.  “Good boy.” 

After Captain is done drinking water, Eddie looks him over to ensure that he is completely and totally covered head-to-toe in mud.  Letting out a satisfied sigh, he decides that it’s time for the next stage of his plan to take action.  

He loads Captain into the back of his van (Eddie makes sure to drive especially slow, and Captain pretty much lays down the whole time) and he sets off towards the salon.  

–

Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation as he puts his van into park.  He’s ecstatic when he sees your beautiful face smiling after two customers as they exit the salon.  Eddie turns around in his seat to see Captain.

“Okay, buddy.  It’s showtime.  I need you to bring your A-game and be a real good wingman for me in there.  Got it?”

Captain tilts his head at Eddie, as though he didn’t understand a thing he said, but then straightens up and lets out a firm bark.  A laugh bursts out of Eddie as he turns the van off and goes to get Captain from the back.  Before rounding the side of his van, and while he’c completely out of your sight, he does a quick smell test on his pits and breath, and then double checks his hair and teeth in the reflection of his rear windows.  After deeming himself presentable, he takes a big deep breath.

“Don’t be stupid, Munson.  Think charming thoughts,” he says under his breath as he starts towards the front door.  

–

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t sticking around fifteen minutes after your shift was over yesterday in the hopes that Eddie would decide to come back early to pick up Captain.  It’s rare that a guy comes into the salon who looks to be around your age and single, but it’s much rarer that they’re as good-looking as Eddie is.  You spent the entire drive home and the rest of the night fantasizing about his voice, his big hands, his laugh.  You wondered what he did while he waited for Captain’s appointment to be done, what his favorite movie was, his favorite food…But most of all, you wondered if you were making up this mutual attraction in your head?  The nervous stuttering and blushing could just be from nervousness, but he was definitely staring at you a few times.  You also wonder whether or not you had actually caught him staring at your ass…but maybe it’s best not to get ahead of yourself.  Maybe he has a girlfriend.  Maybe he doesn’t even see you that way?  Maybe you should get a grip because you’re basing all of this delusion fantasy off of a ten minute conversation you had with the guy.  Leave it to you to construct a made-up scenario in your head after a short interaction with a new crush.

Be that as it may…you still made sure to carve out an extra half hour to get ready for your shift today.  You blow-dried your hair using your fancy products, spent quite a bit of time on your makeup, and spritzed some perfume on before you left.  You even made sure to wear the same jeans as you did the day before, just in case he was looking. 

The first half of your shift was spent hunched over the front desk, it was an extremely slow day so far.  You found yourself perking up a bit whenever a dark haired individual would walk by the front of the salon, only to droop back down again at the realization that it wasn’t who you wished it was.  With all the rain that came down in Hawkins last night, you figured more people would be making last minute appointments to have their dogs bathed, you’d hoped that today would be busy enough to keep your mind from wandering to a certain pair of warm, brown eyes.  But as your shift crawled towards the halfway point, suddenly things started looking up.

As excited as you were to spot a familiar gorgeous man walking into the salon again, you couldn’t conceal the look of shock on your face once your eyes landed on his mud-covered companion.

“Oh–oh my god!”  Eddie couldn’t quite read your expression, but he was relieved to hear a laugh bubble out of you after your exclamation.  He stood there sheepishly for a moment before he remembered his plan: Be. Charming.

You walk out from behind the desk with a hand covering your mouth, not quite believing what you were seeing.  There stood Captain, proudly smiling and panting, covered head to paw in mud.  Another laugh bubbled out of you, and you were pleased to find Eddie laughing with you.  

Goddamnit, that’s a sexy laugh he’s got.

“What…what happened to you?” You say to Captain, bending down to gently pat his head. 

“This absolute miscreant here got out of the house this morning and found himself a nice, muddy yard to roll around in.”  Eddie looked at you with a grin that made your knees weak.

He looked you up and down while you straightened back up.  Was there a way for someone to get a thousand times more beautiful overnight?

A blush rose to your cheeks as you caught him checking you out.  That settles it, he’s definitely flirting with you.  If he can be so forward about it, maybe you can too.

You look up at Eddie through your lashes, making sure to flutter them a couple times for good measure.

“Aw.  And here I was thinking you’d gotten him all dirty just so you could come and see me again.”

Eddie stills.  

Fuck, he can’t believe how hot you are. 

 Fuck, was his plan really that shitty?  Did you just call him out?  

Eddie’s panicking is subdued by your quiet giggle.  Thank god, you were kidding.

“It’s a good thing you managed to catch him, he looks like the type to go on an adventure in the woods.”  Eddie startles, quickly realizing he’d been full-on staring at you while conducting his mental freak-out.

“Oh, yeah.  I’m–like….fast…” Eddie can feel himself getting lost in your eyes as you stare up at him.  His words trail off into oblivion, nothing else exists other than your pretty smile, the little crinkles next to your eyes, your lips…

Holy shit, is Eddie staring at your lips right now?  Is he going to kiss you?  God, you hope he does, you’ve been fantasizing about his lips for hours now.  You can’t let him kiss you right here in the lobby…can you?

Eddie shakes his head a little, breaking himself from the trance you put him under.  

“Ahem, yeah,” Eddie loudly cleared his throat ,”It was no big deal, really.  He’s a good dog, came right back after he realized he was in the wrong.”  Eddie looked down at Captain, only to find him looking right back up at him, obviously judging him for his outright lies.  Eddie looks up at you, shrugging and shaking his head disapprovingly.  He lets out a big, over dramatic sigh ,”I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with this one.”

“Well it’s obviously not his fault,” you reply, “Look at that face!  That face could never do anything wrong.  I should know, I’m actually his lawyer.”  Eddie spots your poorly concealed smirk and decides to jump head first into this bit with you, excited to see if you can keep up.

“Oh really?”  He crosses his arms and takes a tiny step towards you.  This causes his t-shirt to pull taught around his arms, accentuating his biceps.  Your mouth waters a bit.

“Yes, really.  My client is as innocent as they come.”  You place your hands on your hips and look up at him with a level of sass Eddie had no idea you were capable of.  He decides that he loves it. 

“Huh, that’s interesting.  I totally object.” 

“Are you implying that he acted with intent?  Are you attempting to slander my client?” You place your hand on your chest in a “pearl-clutching” type of way, Eddie stifles a laugh.

“I am indeed.  He knew exactly what he was doing when he ran out that door, the evidence is all over his fur,” Eddie replies.

“My client was just following his nose, any mess that ensued was purely circumstantial.  He is innocent of any and all wrongdoing.”  Eddie feels like he’s got stars in his eyes, he can already picture you fitting in so perfectly into a DnD campaign.  You take his pause as a sign to bring your argument home.

“This is a clear case of prosecutorial overreach.  My client was acting in the best interest of the household, ensuring that the yard was thoroughly inspected for potential threats, pests, intruders, or otherwise.  Any mud on his fur is merely a badge of his dedication to home security.”  You cross your arms, clearly having won this fake-case.  

Eddie takes a step back and starts a slow clap.  You take a tiny bow and burst into a fit of giggles.

“I’m impressed, sweetheart.” You hope Eddie doesn’t see how affected you are by that nickname.  “Where the hell did all the legal jargon come from?”

“I used to watch a lot of Law and Order.”  You look down, suddenly shy with a sparkly feeling in your chest.  You really hope you didn’t come across as super weird.  It’s been a while since you’ve been able to have banter like that with someone else.  Hawkins isn’t a very diverse place, and you’ve found that the majority of the people living here tend to be pretty cookie-cutter conservative.  It feels great to let loose a little with someone you’re interested in, you just hope you’ll get more opportunities to do it.

Eddie, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at you.  Is this what falling in love feels like?  The girls in this town all seem to have made their own assumptions and come to their own conclusions about Eddie: he’s a devil worshiper, a satanist, a hookup to check off their bucket list and then never speak to again.  But not you, obviously.  You don’t look at him with the same disgust in your eyes as everyone else in this town does.  Your eyes are full of a kindness and warmth that Eddie could see himself getting used to.

“So, uh,” Eddie rambles, “What’s the verdict for Mr. Captain?”  Captain perks up at the sound of his name, you giggle at the tilt of his head.

“Hm,” You tap your finger to your chin and look off into the distance, “I think a nice, relaxing bath would do.  Maybe a couple treats, too, for being such a good boy.”  You squat down to Captain’s height to scratch him behind the ears, and Eddie can’t help but cringe a little at the flakes of dried mud that drift down off of Captain’s head and onto the floor.

You grab Captain’s leash from Eddie as you stand back up, walking him over to the desk to get him checked in at the computer.  He’s delighted to discover that you’re wearing the same pair of jeans as you were yesterday, and he mentally kicks himself for sneaking another peek at the way your hips sway as you walk.  Eddie deflates a little at the realization that this might be the end of this interaction.  He never wants to stop talking to you.  

“I’m guessing the card on file is what we’ll be using today?”  You ask sweetly, looking up at Eddie.

“Uh, yeah.  Yeah that’s just fine, thank you.” 

Holding eye contact with Eddie, you murmur “,You’re very welcome,” with a smile.

Oh, Eddie is so totally fucked.

Eddie watches as you walk Captain to the hallway door and hand his leash off to a younger girl.  You happily trot back up to the front desk and lean on it with your smiling face resting in your hands.

“Oh, you– you’re not giving him his bath?” Eddie stammers out.

“Nope.” You reply, popping the ‘p.’ “I’m stuck on front desk duty today.”  

Eddie sighs, relieved that your conversation might not be over.  He puts his elbows on the counter and leans towards you a bit. “Well, it can’t be all that bad.”

Your smile widens and you tilt your head, “I think it’s starting to get better.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list:

@anukulee @josephquinnsfreckles

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 1

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4k

notes; This is my first time writing fan fiction. I hope that you guys will like it, and since English isn't my first language, please don’t hesitate to mention any mistakes <3. The story takes place when Rhys was in the early stages of being the High Lord of the Night Court, around 300-350 years old, so 200 years before ACOTAR actually began. I'm not sure yet how many parts this story will have, but I hope that you all will keep reading it ;)))

here is the link for part 2

---

The sound of hammer striking hot iron echoed through the narrow streets of Velaris, mingling with the melodies of the city—the distant hum of conversation and the ever-present whisper of the Sidra River. Within the heart of the Rainbow, a district renowned for its vibrant arts and crafts, a new shop had begun to draw attention. It was an unassuming place at first glance, yet the sheer force of energy within its walls set it apart. This was no ordinary smithy.

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow, your hands expertly maneuvering the red-hot blade beneath your hammer. Sparks flew with each strike, the heat from the forge wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace, both comforting and overwhelming. The rhythmic clang, clang, clang of metal against metal was music to your ears, a symphony you had been conducting since childhood.

Velaris was in your blood. Though you had been born here, your early memories were of the forge and the sound of your master's hammer. Your mother, a powerful and kind high fae, had died giving birth to you, and your father, unable to bear the weight of his mate’s passing, had followed soon after. You had been raised by a close friend of your father’s, a Master in the art of blacksmithing, who had taken you in as his own. It was under his watchful eye that you learned the craft, your small hands gradually growing strong and sure as you worked beside him, day after day.

With your master, you had traveled across the courts and to the far reaches of the continent, learning from smiths of every kind, studying techniques and secrets long forgotten by most. But no matter where you went, Velaris always called to you. And now, after hundred years of honing your skills, you had returned to the City of Starlight to forge your own path.

The shop itself was a reflection of your work—functional, yet beautiful in its simplicity. The front room was a gallery of sorts, with weapons and tools displayed like pieces of art. Gleaming swords, daggers with intricately carved hilts, and axes that looked as though they could fell the mightiest of trees hung from the walls, each one a testament to your skill. The floor was of polished wood, dark and smooth, with rugs from the weavers of Velaris adding warmth to the space. The light streamed in through tall windows, catching on the steel and iron and casting a soft glow across the room.

The shop had been open for only a few months, yet it had already begun to stir curiosity among the citizens of Velaris. Word spread quickly in the Rainbow—whispers of the new blacksmith who had come to claim a place among the best. But you rarely dealt with the customers yourself. That task fell to Alexander, your young apprentice. At only ten years old, he was sharp as a blade and twice as charming, with a quick smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. The boy had a knack for reading people, knowing just what to say to put them at ease—or to convince them that they needed a new sword or dagger.

As you plunged the heated blade into a trough of water, the hiss of steam rising into the air, you heard the familiar chime of the shop’s bell and the light patter of Alexander’s footsteps as he went to greet the newcomer. You allowed yourself a small smile as you heard his cheerful voice, already launching into his well-practiced routine.

“Welcome to the finest smithy in Velaris!” Alexander’s voice rang out, full of enthusiasm. “You won’t find better craftsmanship anywhere in the city—or the continent, for that matter. What are you looking for today? A sword? A dagger? Or maybe something a bit more… unique?”

There was a pause, and then a voice, low and measured, responded, “I’m looking for the blacksmith.”

Your hands stilled, your grip tightening around the hilt of the blade you had been shaping. It was rare that someone asked for you directly. Most customers were content to browse, to admire the work and perhaps make a purchase. But something in the tone of that voice, the way it cut through the air, sent a shiver down your spine.

“Ah,” Alexander said, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise. “You’re in luck. She’s right here. Let me fetch her for you.”

You took a deep breath, wiping your hands on a cloth as you made your way toward the front of the shop. The bell above the door chimed softly as it closed, and you stepped into the light, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. Alexander was standing by the counter, his wide eyes flicking between you and the figure standing in the center of the room.

As you rounded the corner, you finally laid eyes on the stranger. The words of welcome you had been preparing died on your lips as your gazes locked, and you felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over you, as if this meeting had been fated long before you had returned to Velaris.

Alexander, sensing the shift in the air, stepped back slightly, his usual exuberance giving way to a quiet curiosity. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “The best blacksmith in Velaris.”

The stranger’s eyes never left yours, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for whatever would come next. He took a step closer, towering over you despite your own considerable height, his presence imposing. His dark hair contrasted sharply with his piercing violet eyes that seemed to take in everything with a single glance.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice smooth and rich, hinting at depths of authority and power. “I’ve heard much about your work, and I find myself in need of your particular expertise.”

The chill from the incoming winter seemed to linger around him, a reminder of the cold that had swept through Velaris with the approach of the Winter Solstice. Despite the warmth of the forge, you felt a shiver run through you—not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m honored, my lord,” you replied, maintaining eye contact, feeling the weight of his presence. “What can I do for you?”

Rhysand’s expression was serious, and his next words carried an air of significance. “The Solstice celebrations are approaching, and with the colder days upon us, I’d like to commission two sets of weapons—a sword and a dagger—for my brothers. I want them to be special, crafted with the utmost care and consideration for their owners.”

Your mind whirred with ideas, but you needed more information to tailor each piece to its future owner. “To create something truly fitting, I’ll need to know more about your brothers. What are their personalities like, and what are their preferences in combat?”

Rhysand’s face softened slightly as he spoke of Cassian and Azriel. “Cassian is a warrior through and through—strong, fiercely loyal, and a born leader. His weapon should reflect that strength and his role within the Illyrian legions.”

You nodded thoughtfully, picturing a sturdy, bold design for Cassian’s sword. “And Azriel?”

“Azriel operates in the shadows, precise and strategic. His weapon should be subtle yet deadly, embodying his role as spymaster.”

A smile flickered across your face. “I have the perfect idea for him—a sleek design with a hidden element, perhaps.”

Rhysand’s approving nod encouraged you to continue. “Since those two are illyrian maybe we can include syphons in the design. It might be best to work with their olds ones. If you could send those to me, I can restore them and integrate them into the new weapons, preserving their familiar feel while enhancing their function.”

“That sounds ideal,” Rhysand agreed. “I’ll arrange for some of their old syphons to be brought to you tomorrow. They are quite worn but hold significant meaning for my brothers.”

You glanced up at him, reassured by his confidence in your abilities. “I’ll ensure the weapons reflect both their personalities and their needs.”

Rhysand’s smile was genuinely warm now. “Thank you, Y/N. I look forward to seeing your craftsmanship.”

With that, he turned to leave, his cloak swirling around him as he stepped out into the cold Velaris air, leaving a trail of frost in his wake. The bell above the door chimed softly, signaling his departure.

Standing in your forge, you felt the weight of the responsibility settle onto your shoulders. This commission was more than just a job; it was a chance to craft pieces that would be carried by some of the most formidable warriors in the Night Court. You had done works for other lords, kings or fighters, but every time a new challenge would come up your excitement increased so much. The idea of those people working with your creations was just incredible. 

As the cold seeped into the shop, you turned back to your workbench, pulling out parchment and charcoal. Your sketches began to take shape, influenced by the discussion and your insights into the characters of the two brothers. Powerful, elegant, and deadly—just like the men they were meant for.

The forge called to you, and as you answered, diving into your work, you felt a sense of purpose. These weapons would be more than just tools; they would be extensions of the warriors themselves, forged with skill and imbued with the spirit of the Winter Solstice.

After a few more hours of work and locking up the smithy, you and Alex headed up to your cozy apartment. It was adorned with all the comforts of a true craftsman's home—polished wooden floors, local Velaris art, and big windows that showcased the night sky. Your personal collection of swords decorated the walls, each blade a story from your past travels with your old master.

At the foot of your bed lay Stellan, your faithful direwolf companion. His thick, snow-white fur contrasted sharply with his deep, dark eyes that held a world of wisdom and loyalty. You had found him as a pup during one of your early travels—a small, shivering ball of fur huddled against the cold. From that moment on, Stellan had been by your side, growing into a majestic creature whose presence was as comforting as it was formidable.

Your apartment, while only boasting two bedrooms, mostly saw both you and Alex sharing the larger one. Alex had claimed a corner of it with his makeshift bedding, but as the night deepened, he inevitably migrated to your bed, preferring its warmth and the company.

Tonight, you were sitting in bed with your sketchbook, the moonlight and candlelight mingling to create the perfect ambiance for drawing. Stellan's gentle snores provided a soothing background hum, his large form curled protectively at the bed's end. Alex, lying next to you, propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look at your work.

"So, Nana, this one’s going to be for the High Lord, huh?" Alex's voice was soft, filled with awe and curiosity.

"Yeah, it is," you nodded, continuing your sketch. "Every piece needs to be perfect, though, no matter who it’s for. Whether it's a High Lord or a local warrior, they all deserve the best." Despite the illustrious clientele, you held every piece to the same standard of perfection, knowing well that each creation bore your signature, no matter the buyer.

Alex grinned at that. "I know. That’s why your stuff is the best. But hey, why’d you let me call you Nana again? It’s nicer than just ‘master’ or something too formal."

You chuckled softly, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Because you said it fits well, and I guess it does. It’s kind of endearing, Alex."

He blushed, pleased with the affirmation, then leaned closer to peek at your sketchbook. "Show me what you’ve got so far. I bet it’s epic."

You tilted the sketchbook towards him, revealing detailed designs of the sword intended for the spymaster. "This blade needs to embody stealth and strength, reflecting who it's for. It’s not just a weapon; it’s a piece of art."

As you spoke, Stellan lifted his head, ears twitching as if acknowledging the conversation. His dark eyes flickered open, observing you both with a gentle, protective gaze. With a soft huff, he repositioned himself, laying his head back down on his massive paws, content to simply be in your presence.

Alex nodded seriously, taking in every line and curve you had drawn. "It’s amazing, Y/N. They’re gonna love it."

As the evening wore on, Alex's questions and observations gradually slowed as sleep began to claim him. His head eventually found a resting place on your shoulder, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. You smiled down at him, setting the sketchbook aside. His trust and the simple title of 'Nana' he'd given you felt more precious than any formal recognition.

Stellan, sensing the room's quieting energy, stood up and stretched, his movements graceful despite his size. He padded softly around the bed, finally settling down closer to you and Alex, his body a warm barrier against the night’s chill. His presence was a comforting constant, a silent guardian watching over your small family.

With the room now quiet, save for the soft sounds of Alex's sleep and Stellan's rhythmic breathing, the distant hum of the night city served as a lullaby. You felt a peaceful end to the productive day. The weight of creating something worthy of the Night Court was significant, but it was a challenge you were ready to meet with your usual dedication to excellence. Slipping under the covers, you settled in next to Alex, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over you all. With Stellan's protective aura enveloping you, you allowed yourself to drift off, thoughts of tomorrow’s forging dancing in your dreams.

On the other side of the city at the townhouse, the evening was filled with laughter and good spirits. Cassian was in fine form, regaling the table with a joke about an Illyrian warrior who mistook a glamour-spell for his opponent in a sparring match. The table erupted in laughter, appreciating the absurdity of the tough warrior swatting at thin air.

As chuckles subsided and glasses were refilled, Azriel steered the conversation toward local news with his typically quiet but clear tone. "Have you heard, Rhys?" he began, capturing the table's attention. "There’s a new blacksmith in Velaris."

"Actually?" Cassian's interest was piqued, his expression curious.

"Yes, I’ve checked on her—she's already established quite the reputation," Azriel continued.

"Her, like she is a female?" Cassian asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Yes, 'her' like that, Cassian…" Azriel replied with a slight smirk, enjoying the moment of revelation.

Rhysand joined in with a knowing smile. "She's not just any blacksmith. She’s made quite a name for herself, especially with blades. She’s worked with several high lords across Prythian."

Cassian choked slightly on his drink, surprised. "A female blacksmith, swinging hammers with the high lords? She must be quite skilled."

"She is," Rhysand confirmed, his voice reflecting a mix of respect and intrigue. "Her blades are reputed to be some of the finest—well-crafted and balanced. The detail and precision are said to be exceptional."

The brothers shared intrigued glances, the atmosphere buzzing with new interest. The conversation seamlessly wove around various artisans they knew, but the topic of the new blacksmith lingered, sparking a particular fascination.

"So, what's her specialty? Just weapons, or does she do armor too?" Cassian probed, clearly intrigued.

"Primarily weapons. She has a particular talent for swords and daggers," Rhysand explained. 

As the evening wore on, Rhysand found a moment to lean towards Azriel. “By the way Az, could you drop a box off at the blacksmith's tomorrow? "

Azriel nodded, sensing the significance of the task, though his eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "Anything else I should know?"

"Just the box," Rhysand responded, his tone firm yet enigmatic, giving nothing further away.

Both Azriel and Cassian looked at each other, their curiosity clearly piqued, but recognizing that Rhysand was keeping his cards close to his chest. They returned to lighter topics, but the mention of the new blacksmith had woven itself into their conversation, adding a thread of intrigue to the vibrant tapestry of Velaris’s ongoing stories.

—

Back in your smithy, the clanging of metal and the heat of the forge filled the air, mingling with the lively chatter of customers at the front of the shop. Alexander, navigated skillfully among the patrons, his arms laden with weapons. His voice, bright and enthusiastic, carried over the din as he extolled the virtues of your craftsmanship.

"Feel the balance of this blade!" Alexander exclaimed to a curious couple, holding up a finely crafted sword for inspection. "Forged right here, each swing is as smooth as the Sidra's flow!"

With the Winter Solstice drawing near, the shop was bustling with activity as each order demanded meticulous attention and finesse. You had just put the finishing touches on a stylized hammer, commissioned by one of the lords of the Illyrian camps, when the bell above the door chimed.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure cloaked in shadows enter. It was Azriel, Rhysand’s spymaster, moving with a quiet grace that seemed almost unnatural. His presence caused a subtle shift in the atmosphere as he approached Alexander first, speaking in hushed tones before your apprentice pointed him towards the back.

Wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you pushed through the curtain that separated your work area from the shop. Dressed in a revealing black top and overalls that were unclipped at the top, leaving much of your torso exposed due to the heat of the forge, you approached the visitor. Big gloves covered your hands, protecting them from the forge’s heat. As you came into view, you caught Azriel's gaze flick momentarily—almost imperceptibly—downwards before meeting your eyes again. Though brief, it didn’t escape your notice.

“Who is it?” you asked, your voice echoing slightly in the busy shop.

“I need to deliver something to you,” Azriel stated, his voice even and calm, holding out a small, intricately carved box.

Before taking the box, you carefully removed your heavy gloves, revealing hands marked by the rigors of your trade. You took it, feeling the weight and the latent power it seemed to hold. Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him. “From the High Lord ?”

“Yes. He said you’d know what to do with it,” Azriel replied, his gaze now fixed firmly on your face, any earlier distraction gone.

You nodded, understanding that the contents of the box were likely tied to the commission Rhysand had mentioned previously. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll handle it from here.”

As Azriel turned to leave, Alexander’s voice once again filled the shop, drawing new customers' attention: "Every piece has its own story, crafted with the finest skills learned from the great forges of Prythian! See for yourselves!"

You couldn’t help but smile at Alexander’s enthusiasm as he continued to engage the customers with his lively banter. Azriel, the enigmatic shadow singer, had left as quietly as he had arrived. There was something undeniably captivating about him—his mysterious aura only added to his allure.

Standing for a moment, you held the box, feeling its potential. But the demands of the day pulled you back, and you returned to the forge, your mind already racing with ideas for the contents of the box and the work that lay ahead. 

Just as you were about to reignite the forge, Alex poked his head through the curtain, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“He was hot, right?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with teasing curiosity.

You paused, a smirk forming as you glanced back at the retreating figure of Azriel. “Aren’t you supposed to be ten?” you retorted playfully, raising an eyebrow at Alex.

Alex chuckled, undeterred. “Maybe, but I can tell when someone’s cool. He’s like a shadow knight from those legends you told me!”

Laughing, you shook your head and turned back to your workbench, the plans for Rhysand’s commission spread out before you. “Get back to the front, Alex. And keep your comments about the customers to yourself, even if they are high lords or shadow singers.”

Alex laughed and ducked back through the curtain, his voice soon mingling with the customers once again. As you focused on the intricate designs of the new commission, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement for the challenge ahead, your heart still light from the brief yet intriguing encounter.

[mortiskiller]

Pignapped

Content warning: Contains violent language, physical harm, non-consensual feedism and other acts. This is just a story, don't be weird.

A commission for @collegefatty10

He was on the way back to the car after grabbing a pizza. It was routine at this point in his life. Eating all day without regard to his ever-increasing weight had led to some interesting eating habits. A breakfast sandwich in the morning had become three sandwiches with hash browns and two doughnuts. Lunch steadily grew into a multi-hour affair with trips to multiple drive-thru visits, door dash orders, desk drawers filled with snacks, and not to mention a new habit of pre-gaming before dinner. Driving to get his pizza led to stopping for fries, or nuggets, or a combo meal, or all of that, before he picked up his next greasy calorie bomb. This routine made his day predictable, pigs are simple after all. The same places and employees watched him fatten from the low 300s to his heaving 430 pounds. Day after day, pound after pound he kept ordering more. As his waddle slowed, his gut hung lower and lower, his face getting red and sweaty from the 20-foot walk from the car to the pizzeria, he was an easy target.

I had seen him months before on a lunch break. My eyes shot open as saw a hanging lard pile of a man puff his way into McDonald’s. It was a passing horny thought that I would see him again, maybe add it to my mental bank of images and memories to jerk off to later. Yet, he kept coming to the same places again, and again, and again till it was too much to resist. I mapped out his route, timed him as ordered, and ate his feasts. Noted how he favored his right leg as he waddled, his arms struggling to carry the ever-increasing amount of food he ordered. As I watched him, I couldn't help but notice the way his right leg bore the brunt of his weight, the limp a constant reminder of his indulgent lifestyle. I wondered how long he had been living like this, how many times he had ordered a pizza and not once thought about the consequences. I knew he would be easy to take. Easy to keep docile, dumb, and growing.

I waited till the moon was just a sliver in the night sky outside his favorite pizzeria. Checking my watch, as it ticked over to 8:40 pm, his sedan pulled into the parking lot, the front driver’s side sitting low as my soon-to-be pet pig drove. I watched from my hiding spot as he struggled to haul his massive frame out of the driver's seat, grunting and wheezing with the effort. The scent of greasy pizza wafted through the air as he waddled towards the entrance, his heavy footfalls reverberating on the pavement.

Once he was safely inside i made my move, slipping silently into the shadows and following him at a distance. Inside, he placed his usual order - a large meat lover's pizza with extra cheese and a side of garlic knots. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he paid for his meal, oblivious to the predator lurking in the darkness behind him.

As he turned to leave, I struck swiftly and silently, wrapping a thick cloth bag over his head. He struggled weakly for a moment before I pushed him back to the car. With ease, I kicked his right knee from the back and watched as he tumbled into the truck. His muffled moans of confusion and fear barely registering over the hum of the engine. He was mine now, another victim added to my collection.

I paused for a moment, considering my next move. He was a strange yet fascinating addition to my collection, and I relished the thought of having him under my control. I could see him squirming in the back, his heavy breathing and muffled cries a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

I parked the car in a secluded spot, away from any prying eyes. The moon now a hazy glow, bathing everything in a sickly light. I approached the car, opened the rear door, and lifted my newest prize out of the vehicle.

He was heavier than he looked, his bulk making it difficult for me to handle him. But I had experience, and I was patient. I carried him to a nearby abandoned warehouse, the cold metal of the hinges echoing as I pushed open the door.

Once inside, I placed him on a table, still wearing the cloth bag over his head.

"Hey, buddy," I cooed to the pig, my voice low and sinister. "You know, you're not going to like what's going to happen to you. I've got some pretty wicked plans for you. I'm going to fatten you up, relentlessly, until there's barely anything left of your dignity or self-esteem. You see, we're going to use you, and we're going to pleasure you in ways you can't even imagine."

The pig let out a soft grunt, the sounds muffled by the cloth bag still securing his head. I chuckle, a dark and twisted sound that reverberates through the cold, empty warehouse. Taking a step closer, my shoes scraped against the rough concrete floor.

"I've been collecting things like you for years," I whispered, running his hands over his captive's plump body. "I've come across so many of your kind, just like you, loving your comfort and your food. And I've had my way with them all. Oh, I've had so much fun, and you're next on my list."

As I approach the pig, who is still covered in the bag, he lets out a soft whimper and shakes his head, trying to free himself. His body wobbles with each attempt as he struggles against his bonds. Belly aching with his last meal the movement causes an unintended blech from beneath the bag. Swiftly, I remove the bag from the pig's head, revealing a face red, sweating, and fearful. The pig's eyes are wide and terrified as he stares up at me, taking in his new surroundings - cold concrete walls bare of any decoration, a king-sized bed next to a small bathroom, and a large full-body mirror.

"Look at you," I say with a hint of disgust mixed with fascination, "just look at what you've become."

"You know what you are now?" I ask quietly, “You are my plaything, a toy, a fat weak blubbery toy!” my digs deep into his belly hang, bringing a painful whine from the pig’s mouth.

"You are mine, completely and entirely," I continue, my voice growing menacing, "and I'm going to do whatever I want with you at my command." The pig tries to struggle again, but his movements are weak and pathetic. "Oh, but first things first," I say, walking over to the bed where I had left a set of handcuffs.

I restrained the pig on the bed, at once reluctant and terrified to yield to such volition.

"You'll get used to it, trust me," I say, my fingers tracing curious paths over his bulging form. "Maybe then you'll even enjoy it."

With the pig cuffed to the headboard and footboard, I began to study him, taking in every last curve and fold of his form. He looked so helpless and vulnerable like a lost child in desperate need of a firm hand to guide him.

Noticing the glaze that had settled over his eyes, I thought, 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

Methodically, I began to examine him as if he were an exotic creature, taking note of each flaw that had been revealed by my rough handling.

He would be my plaything, my plump and innocent pig. And I would use him, treat him, and abuse him in ways that would break him completely. I would fatten him up and weaken him until his body could no longer bear the weight of his own flesh. I would use every inch of this vulnerable creature, making him my own personal toy.

As I stood over him, watching him squirm pathetically on the bed, my mind raced with all the ways in which I could degrade him. My hands moved over his flesh, feeling him shake beneath my touch. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the softness of his fur, the weight of the fat that filled his body. It was all so delicious, so intoxicating, that I found myself growing hard at the thought of what I could do with him.

My fingers brushing feather-light against his skin, teasing him with every passing second. It was then that I decided upon the next part of his degradation. With a smirk playing on my lips, I retrieved a bucket from the floor, its contents sloshing against the sides with every move I made. It was filled to the brim with a half-gallon of lard-filled slop, designed to both fuel his growing hunger and make him feel even more vulnerable in his restraints.

As I drew closer, the pig let out a small whine, his eyes widening in fear and anticipation. He knew what was coming. I brought the bucket towards his mouth, and with a practiced hand, I tilted it so that the contents would flow easily. A funnel was inserted into his mouth, and with a cruel smirk, I watched as the slop began to pour down his throat, filling him to the brim.

End of Part 1.

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST TRAILER

Uptown Girl (Part One)

Summary: When your high society life comes crumbling down around you. You are left to deal with the inherited mess your father's love of the casino tables had landed him in, and the gangster he had settled his debts with. Mr Thomas Shelby. But when heads butt during your first encounter with the notorious gang leader over the deeds to Arrow House. You both stubbornly refuse to back down, begrudgingly accepting each other as an unwelcome housemate. With your future on the line, and the arranged union you want to be free from rapidly approaching. You come to the quick realisation that if you can't force the blue-eyed squatter from your house, then you would drive him out. One way or another.

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of death by suicide

Word Count: 4535

Authors Note: £200-£300 sterling pound in 1924, was worth between £10000-£15000 in todays value.

"So it's agreed then, Miss?" the smartly dressed man with hungry eyes questioned you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he greedily beamed down at the delicate diamond necklace sitting on the plush red velvet cushion below it. "£200 for the Elysée necklace, and it's matching earrings?"

"£250 for the necklace alone, Mr Burton" you quickly corrected his value of the precious jewel sat in front of you. The last of your mother's cherished collection gifted to her on her wedding day.

" £300 for the lot" his eyes narrowed in on the lustrous stones adorned with a cluster of diamonds weighing down your ears. He would have the full collection, or nothing at all.

" Scandalous! " your Granny's voice quivered as she sat in the corner of your father's office. Exceedingly displeased with the intentionally low estimation of your family's jewels as her satin gloved fingers clutched tightly around her walking stick.

" It is but business, Mam" the Jeweler replied with an avid, gold-toothed smile. His arms flamboyantly hovering in the air as he bowed to the former Duchess of Arrow House with anything but the respect she was once shown.

" Hm!" your dear Grans voice hiccuped as she turned her head in displeasure to the gentleman who was a far cry from the considerate businessman he claimed to be. But rather, that of a man who had fallen upon a family's suffering through yet another death brought on by the woes of a troubled mind.

" £300 it is then" you announced with your head held high, removing the last remaining item of value you possessed from the soft lobes of your ears to join its sister necklace.

With reluctant hands, you gracefully placed each earring onto the cushioned fabric. The tips of your fingers brushing over the passing memories of you sat as a small child on the edge of your mother's bed. Mesmerised by her beauty as you watched her adorn her gown with each jewel that would accompany her on a soiree of dancing and champagne. They will be yours one day, my darling girl, her voice whispered to you like a passing summer breeze as you closed your eyes. The grief you still felt for her loss now weighed down with that of your father's recent death.

" Wonderful!" the Jeweler's voice snatched you away from your cherished memories. Snatching the precious stone from under your fingers and replacing them with a stack of King George banknotes." Pity old George couldn't help you out, hm?"

" Pity? Pity?!" your Granny's voice rose to a squeaky pitched tone of offense as her stern expression honed in on the jeweler that was about to get a good old-fashioned telling off. " Well I never. If you were any the wiser, Mr Burton. I would take your insolent, blithering..."

"Yes, thank you, Granny. Good day to you, Mr Burton" you interrupted your Grans inevitable barrage of flustered insults as you ushered the jeweler from the study. Saving him from not only her sharp words but your family's faltering reputation from another scandal you wished to avoid.

" Oh, how the mighty have fallen" the Jeweler's teasing words echoed back to your Gran still perched on the small cushioned chair, outraged by the sheer cheek of the man, when your brother loudly made his unwelcome appearance through the foyer.

" Mighty, and of good stock!" your brother cheered back, having heard only a portion of what was more of an insult than any compliment his far away thoughts had understood. " Oh, I say..." your brother's eyes widened at the large stash of banknotes stacked in a pile on the polished desk as he entered the room.

" Johnathan. What are you doing here?" you impatiently asked, snatching them away and swiftly making your way across the room to Frances waiting with your brother's shotgun he had lumbered her with by the door after a day of hunting stags on the property. " For the wages, and upkeep" you discretely whispered, handing the money to your most trusted employee with only one banknote remaining for your father's impending funeral.

" Oh sissy, how dire" your brother said upon seeing the lonely note being folded in your hand and safely into the pocket of your dress as he sat down, puffing on what was left of his cigar while eyeing up anything he could sell, having already squandered his estate on the inherited trait of your father that had gotten you into this mess. Gambling. A mess which was now, your burden.

With only a penny left to his name, your father played his last and final hand in the backstreets of London's grottyest alleyway. Foolishly putting all his remaining hopes on the copper coin to win back his wasted fortune. But when the dice turned against his favour, sealing his losing fate. Your father slumped to the muddy ground, removing his gun and shooting himself point-blank in the side of the head. Left to die alone in the dark, penniless. Your father had succumbed to the very thing he had wasted his life on.

" Again Johnathan, what are you doing here? Or rather, what do you want?" you sighed with crossed arms, kicking his muddy boots from the ottoman in front of him.

" Why is everyone so glum, and in black?" your brother huffed, looking around the solemn room that was once filled with gold ornaments and neatly categorised books you would spend your time reading quietly on the feathered cushioned settee as your father mulled over the odds for his next bet at the races.

" Our father still lies cold on the morgue table, Johnathan" you scolded your older brother. Ten years older, to be precise.

Wise beyond your years, an old soul. That's what those dearest to you would say. In reality, you were nothing of the sort. But rather forced into behaving for both you and your idiotic brother, who was intent on staining the family's name with his seedy lifestyle.

" We're in mourning Johnny, my dear" your Granny looked upon your brother with an unwavering sigh of both love and tolerance that only a grandmother would show for her half-witted grandson to whom she was forever bound too. " And preparation. For a dark day has come to Arrow House" she dramatically finished as she turned her head away in disbelief about the morning's unfolding events.

" Preparation for what, exactly ?" your brother asked obliviously, or rather ignorantly to everything that had unfolded in the weeks prior to your father's death.

"Preparation for him. Mr Thomas Shelby." Your grandmother's voice rose as she turned to her eldest grandchild. " The gangster!" her voice pitched to an even higher note as she clutched her chest in horror at the situation her son, your father, had landed you in with the Birmingham gang leader your Granny could only envision to be like that of the viscous darkly creatures she had read in her nightly novels.

" A gangster, you say? How thrilling. This place could do with a little fun" your brother replied, flicking a dusty lamps weathered shade next to him. His need to live life further on the edge than what he was already precariously sat on, horrifying your Grandmother for a second time. "Does this gangster happen to drive a Bentley?"

" Oh god, he's early. Why is he so early?" You panicked at the approaching sound of a car on the gritted drive as your flustered fingers fidgeted with your pearl necklace.

" A gangster with good time keeping, sister" your brother smirked as he watched you smooth down the front of your dress, your lips silently mumbling your practiced speech.

" Johnathan, would you please shut up and stop calling him that. Would you like to get us all shot, and join Daddy in the morgue?" you huffed as the irritated former child in you made an appearance to your only sibling, who was enjoying, as he always did, purposely annoying you to the point of a foot-stomping childish outburst.

" And he brings two accompanying gangsters with him. What a burly looking lot" your brother's eyes narrowed in on the three men exiting the car behind the tempered glass.

" Johnathan! Shu..."

"Children please. I'm far too close to my own deathbed to withstand your bickering. Must I endure it until that very day?" your Grandmother sighed as she slowly approached you, her hand closing reassuringly around your jittery fingers. " Head up dear, don't let him see you falter" your Granny encouraged you, patting your hand and any lingering doubts away. "Stand firm. You'll leave this manor in grace and class" she stated, head held high as her cane came down to the floor with a thud in a show of both strength and dignity as she took your brothers' steadying arm, and he led her into the foyer.

You'll leave this manor in grace and class, your Grandmother's guiding words sat with the uncomfortable lump of deception now forming in your throat as you followed behind her. For the days events were about to take a very different turn than planned. A plan in motion that neither your Grandmother nor this wretched gangster Mr Shelby could have ever envisioned. One that was imperative for you to escape the dreaded wedding arranged since your birth to the brute of a man you were promised to in one month's time. Cal Astor.

"Here she is, boys" Tommy said, stepping out of the car, lighting a cigarette as he looked at his newly acquired stately home. " Let's hear it then. What do you think?"

" Got nothing on Small Heath" Arthur sniffed as he squinted to the very top of the sturdy bricked mansion, cautiously weighing up its threatening statue. "Nah, give me Watery Lane"

"The mud and shit too?"John asked, twisting his toothpick between his teeth as his face scrunched up at the elaborate fountain of a large busted woman spouting water from her nipples. Your brother's only, and soon to be discarded, ghastly contribution to Arrow House. "Bloody toffs"

"Especially the shit" Arthur replied, checking the imposing house's stability with a firm slap to the bricked wall. "Go on then Tom, tell us aye. What poor bastard did you fool into giving this up?" he said before tipping his hat to one of the many garden staff now scurrying off to safety in fear of his kneecaps being blown off. The result of another mighty tale from your Grandmother's overactive imagination, that had undoubtedly stirred the staff of Arrow House into a dizzy.

"A rich old bastard who had reached the bottom of his pockets" Tommy replied, blowing a puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Well, where is the poor fucker then? No grand welcome?" Arthur asked, offended the red carpet and all its thrills hadn't been laid out for their arrival for such a grand home.

"Dead" Tommy flatly stated as he approached the towering wooden door, ignoring any of his brothers assumptions that he was the delivering hand of that untimely death. "Right come on lads. Best behaviour, eh?

"Jesus, bloody, Christ" John huffed, flicking his toothpick into the neatly cut grass, wary of what his brother had gotten them into this time.

Stood in the foyer with your only two remaining family members, and the staff under your employment orderly lined up beside you. You waited. Listening to the footsteps of the man you had yet to meet, slowly approaching.

" Mr Shelby, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding..." you quietly rehearsed under your breath when a loud, heavy fisted knock rattled the foyer door. Startling both you and your Grandmother.

" Must he be so barbaric? This house does possess a doorbell! your Grandmother fussed as you nodded to Frances to open the door and have you face the inevitable you could no longer delay.

As the door slowly opened, a low, gravely voice greeted your housekeeper. Accompanying it, three smartly dressed men, each one sporting a peak cap. As your eyes darted from the youngest of the men in front of you to the tallest with a large moustache neatly trimmed above his top lip, they finally came to land on the man stood in the middle. His steel blue stare instantly locking with yours. It was him, Thomas Shelby.

A painfully awkward silence suddenly settled in the air when all thought drifted mutually from your minds. Embarrassingly halting either one of you from saying or doing anything. Leaving everyone present in an uncomfortable shared state of confusion of darting stares as they stood silently in the foyer.

Uncomfortable for all but two, that was. For something far more intriguing had unexpectedly sparked in the silence between the daughter of high society and the Small Heath boy from the hardened streets of Birmingham. A spark neither one of you expected to be ignited that day as your shared gaze remained fixed on the other and time suddenly seemed to dissipate, with everything and everyone around you blurring into nothingness.

That was until the echo of your Grannie's cane booming on the marble floor brought you and Tommy back to the present world.

" Mr Shelby..." you began, clearing your throat as you watched him remove his peaked cap, when your intended words escaped your thoughts once again to the man stood before you. A man not hardened faced, loud and savage like your Grandmother would have you believe. But a man with striking features and a magnetic, demanding stance. Quietly stood observing you. Patiently waiting for formal introductions like any gentleman from your world would do.

"Mr Shelby, welcome to Arrow House" you unexpectedly greeted him with a politeness you had been adamant on guarding as you tried to compose yourself after your state of, confusion.

Did you come with the house too?, Tommy thought to himself, as a curious hint of a smile etched on the corner of his lips for the woman that had suddenly captivated him. Oblivious to who you was, and the pounding headache you would soon create for him.

"I'm afraid...I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Mr Shelby" you said, having finally recomposed yourself as you held your head high. Unwilling to, as Granny said, falter.

"Misunderstanding?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he cautiously stepped closer, sharply aware of your Grandmother's sudden snap of her head in your direction.

" I'm here to inform you, that the arrangement you had with my father is void" you cleared your throat, watching your unwelcome guests eyes pierce through the guard you had quickly shielded yourself with as he learnt of your connection to the former owner of the house he was stood in.

" Void..." Tommy scoffed, cocking a brow. His patience with you dancing around the subject and what you really intended on saying becoming tiresome.

" Yes. Void" you firmly stated, defiantly crossing your arms in reaction to his less than pleasant tone of voice aimed solely at you. Both of your unexpected allure with the other suddenly evaporating, and swiftly being replaced with a mutual irritation for one another as the bricked walls of control over the matter began to both mutually stack themselves high. "Arrow House was not my father's to give, Mr Shelby"

" That right, eh?" Tommy chuckled, as he looked back to his brothers shared amusement for your firm, but endearing stance." Then who's is it, sweetheart?"

" Mine" you coldly gave the delivering blow, severing his entertainment before turning on your heel and making your way up the long winding stairs as the staff and your flustered Grandmother accompanied by your brother hastily scattered from the foyer. Leaving Tommy's brothers in a fit of laughter while he glared at you from below on the marble floor as the overseeing eye of the iron-clad documents of Arrow House emerged from an adjoining room.

"Mr Shelby. A word, perhaps?"

" In her name?" Tommy confirmed, clenching his jaw fiercely together as he hunched over what was, for all intents and purposes, his desk.

" Correct, Mr Shelby" your newly acquired lawyer mumbled, nervously shifting his eyes to the two brothers stood uncomfortably close behind him.

" I saw the deeds myself. Watched the lying bastard put them in my name" Tommy lifted his head, pointing his finger accusingly at the lawyer he was now convinced was trying to pull one over on him, and delay his move.

" I don't doubt you, Mr Shelby" he stepped closer, and away from the two pitbulls breathing unnervingly down his neck. " You see, before the recently departed Duke died. The late mother of Miss Y/N Y/L/N made sure the deeds to Arrow House, and its land, were put in her name"

Your beloved mother. Born into a life of poverty not so different to that of Tommy's. She too, had worked her way up the precarious ladder of wealth, further cementing her future after accepting your father's proposal of marriage. But a life of financial worries had not escaped her when she began to learn of her husband's burning pockets, and his love of the casino tables.

In a desperate last attempt on her deathbed, and to guarantee you financial security, sparing you from a life of chains beautified with gold and satin ball gowns she never envisioned for you. Your mother, the fellow owner of your childhood home, had the deeds of Arrow House signed over into your safeguard, and away from the high rolling hands of your father and brother.

" For fucks sake..." Tommy mumbled with a hefty sigh, slouching down into his chair having realised the predicament he now found himself in.

" Really landed yourself in it this time, aye Tom?" Arthur couldn't help but give his younger brother an overdue sibling ribbing.

" Fuck off, Arthur" Tommy huffed in response, earning a snigger of laughter from both his brothers, who were more than happy to see him take a spectacular fall in his climb for the finer things in life.

" There is...something though, Mr Shelby. Something I could look into. For the right price, that is" the lawyer mused, his greedy fingers perching on the edge of the desk, now summed up on who the man was in front of him, and the depth of his pockets. No matter how tainted they may be. " There is a missing signature on the papers the late Duchess had filed before her death. The Dukes, missing signature. It will take some time to look into the documents' validity, but..."

" Get it done" Tommy interrupted the lawyer, ushering with his hand for him to leave before falling back into his chair with a chesty breath. Arrow House was his, he would make it so. One way or another.

After stewing over the predicament he found himself in for the better part of an hour. Tommy sat silent, weighing out the pros and cons of his next unexpected move as his stare honed in on the bronze statue of a stallion on his deck.

" What the bloody hell is he doing?" John impatiently mumbled to his eldest brother, who he himself was lost on what exactly it was Tommy was waiting for. " Tom, what..." John began to say when the office door flew open, and you came charging through. Your own patience with the head of the Birmingham gang's presence in your home wearing precariously thin.

" Mr Shelby, you've spoken with my lawyer. You know the terms of the deeds. Now I would ask you, kindly, to leave" you huffed crossed armed as you walked through the office collecting any remaining items of value in your arms. Cautiously aware of keeping them away from the three men's reputable light fingers.

" Y/N..." Tommy began as you sauntered past him, throwing the curtains open he had closed to dull the buzzing pain rattling in his skull you had welcomed him with.

" Miss Y/L/N" you were quick to correct him as Tommy ran his fingers down his face. His emerging eyes unable to divert from your swaying hips and flowing dress brushing past his leg, capturing his attention for a second time.

Watching you walk away was now, far more pleasant than having your angry frown storm towards him, Tommy thought to himself, clearing his throat as he looked at the pitiful lack of whisky in the decanter beside him. If you didn't have such a stubborn mouth, he'd be inclined to let your pretty face hang around, his petty ego nagged him. Irritated by the fact, he had lost himself in your beauty and allure in a brief moment of confusion earlier that day.

" Mr Shelby. Please" you gestured to the door as you stood defiantly in front of your father's mahogany desk, watching him brush his thumb over the muzzle of the ornament he had taken a liking for. " Mr Shelby..."

" I'm not going anywhere, love" Tommy finally spoke, looking up at your raging face as he picked up the weighty statue in his hand. " There seems to be a slight error on the deeds, Miss Y/L/N. A missing signature. Your father's signature" Tommy raised a brow as he pointed the ornament in your direction, unable to hide the triumphant smirk behind the smugness sitting on his face as he watched the realisation of your rapidly crumbling plan start to fall apart on your flustered face. "So until the deeds are reviewed..." he paused, turning the bronze horse to look at him. "Looks like you'll have to put up with me"

For the second time that day, you were left speechless by the stranger in front of you. This time, however, with a good dose of irritation spurring it on.

"Like hell I will!" You blurted, without a second thought for just how unladylike your reaction and the following response would look, when you reached over the table grabbing hold of the horse in Tommy's hand, and a childish tug of war ensued between the both of you.

" Fine" you huffed, blowing a lock of hair from In front of your eyes as you let go.

" Good" Tommy replied adjusting his tie as he sheepishly looked over to his smirking brothers, having witnessed the entire, amusing display.

"Keep it. A small souvenir" you pouted, pointing to the ornament gripped in his hand as you turned to leave, pulling a small cushion from under the bum of the youngest gangster as he sent a wink and cheeky dimpled grin your way.

" Enjoy your brief stay, Mr Shelby. And have no doubt. My lawyer will be urgently looking into your claims" you warned, clutching the handle of the door as you watched him rise from behind your father's desk and approach you.

"He already is, love. Paid him a nice sum of money to help speed things up" Tommy said standing uncomfortably close as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes lingering on your plush lips.

A power unmatched. Money to buy his way through life. Something you knew would be dangerously futile in fighting with your lack of current funds.

" So be it, Mr Shelby" you succumbed to the situation with as much boldness as you could muster as you turned to leave. If you couldn't force him out, you would drive him out. One way or another.

Five days later...

" Good morning, Frances" you cheerfully greeted your housekeeper as you descended down the stairs in your nightie with a hop in your step, a bounce of your hair.

" Good morning, Miss" Frances swallowed heavily as her eyes darted to the grand clock ticking loudly in the corner of the entrance. Five days and counting. Five, obscenely early mornings, you had woken up earlier than the minutest chirp from any bird that had ever lived on the grounds of Arrow House.

" A little Beethoven this morning, perhaps?" you asked, perching yourself on the stool in front of the grand piano you had the staff conveniently move to the foyer. A spot that just so happened to be within close proximity to a certain someone's bedroom. " Any suggestions?"

"Fur Elise is a lovely piece, Miss. And you play it so well" Frances encouraged the mellow tune as her eyes darted to the top of the stairs, wary of the sleeping occupant only a stone throw away.

" It is. But I feel something a little more...rambunctious is needed to start the day. "Don't you think?" you smiled, turning the page to Symphony no5 as an amused smirk played on the corner of your lips whilst your hands hovered teasingly over the ivory keys, and you began to play. Loudly.

As the sound of your enthusiastic musical skills reverberated through the walls of Arrow House, a grunting Tommy stirred in his bed at the unwelcome shrill of the piano below him.

"Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled incoherently, awakening from a deep sleep as he rolled from his stomach to his back. His eyes slowly opening, his ears tuning in. "Shut the...!" He grumbled, shouting the rest of his less than gentlemanly choice of words through the pillow he had grabbed to muffle the early wake-up call as he regained full consciousness. "FUCKKKK!" He roared from the pits of his lungs, when your continued playing only increased his irritation to a heightened, heavenly high.

Looking up at the landing stairs, a satisfied smirk grew on your face, hearing the beautiful barrage of curses from the unwelcome squatter in your home for the fifth day in a row as your fingers glided over the cool ivory.

Throwing the covers from him, Tommy grabbed his gun from the cabinet side table as he scrambled for his trousers, pulling them up as he stomped to the door.

" Seems Mr Shelby's awake, Frances" you spoke above the piano, as your loyal housekeeper nervously smiled to you, nodding her head. Readying herself for the fury of a thoroughly pissed off Tommy heading your way as his booming strides beckoned closer.

Encouraged by the sound of Tommy's door slamming shut, you continued your endeavour. Unbeknownst, that Tommy's hunched shoulders were looming over the banister. Gun in hand as he positioned his arm on the metal railing, aiming the end of the barrel directly at the woman whose sole purpose in life was to wake him up every morning with an insufferable racket.

"Don't move, darling" Tommy teasingly whispered as his eyes narrowed in, his breath steadying whilst he watched your fingers dance along the keys as he adjusted his shot.

As the sight of your lonely digit lingered over the next key, Tommy squeezed the trigger, shooting off the finishing note before you had the chance to give your triumphant end.

Leaping from the smoky crater now forever embedded in your grand piano, your eyes shot up to see your unwelcome roommate looking down at you with a cocky smirk as he shoved his gun against the naked skin between the waistband of his trousers.

" Morning, love"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3

@emotionalcadaver @mamawiggers1980 @sweetcheesecakesblog @cljordan-imperium @peakyswritings

[yaniluvs]

𝒾𝒾 ┆ ⋆.˚ ⚾️ 승민 : AS WE ARE “ 𝑏𝘰𝘰𝑘𝑠, 𝑝𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝘵𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝘰𝑝𝑙𝑒. ” ── baseball guy bumps into you twice in the same day, first the library and then the pathway outside a convenience store, but maybe you get to know him better?

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𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）4.1k ── ༯ SERIES (?) uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, slight angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/has mixed ethnicity. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ as we are mv, i love you. i want it tattooed in my head. my heart too. had fun writing this chapter, sorry for the delay!! here you go <3 also, i just crossed 300 followers? really? if you know, i did just pass 200 like two days ago. thank you so much. this really motivates me TT. comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3

the library was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt like it was carved out of the world itself. sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting soft patterns on the wooden floors. it wasn’t a large library—small, cozy, and tucked away at the edge of the town, mostly frequented by students and a few older residents who enjoyed its peaceful atmosphere.

seungmin pushed open the door, a soft chime ringing as he stepped inside. he didn’t particularly enjoy coming here—it wasn’t exactly his scene—but he had a book to return, one his friend had borrowed under his name. as usual, he wore his baseball cap low, the brim shading his face, as he approached the front desk.

a blonde was sitting behind the counter, his deep voice calm as he hummed a tune to himself while stamping books. seungmin placed the book on the counter, nodding slightly.

“returning this,”

felix looked up briefly, gave a small nod, and reached for the book without much thought. “got it.”

the guy turned away without another word, heading toward the shelves by the windows. it had been a while since he’d been here, and he didn’t remember much about the layout, but he found a stool near an aisle and sank down onto it. pulling a small notebook from his jacket pocket, he uncapped his pen and began writing.

he always wrote when things felt too noisy inside his head. the notebook held snippets of his thoughts, observations, and, lately, small moments he hadn’t been able to forget—like her.

behind the counter, felix finished sorting the returned books before glancing at the time. it was quiet enough that he decided to assign someone the task of checking on the lone customer.

“y/n,” he called, his voice low so as not to disturb the silence.

she turned from the bookshelf she was organizing, brushing her hands on her skirt. “yeah?”

“there’s someone by the windows. go check if they need anything,” felix said, gesturing lazily toward the back of the library. “seems like he’s settled in, but we’re supposed to, you know, do our job.”

the girl rolled her eyes with a small smile. “fine. anything else, your majesty?”

felix smirked. “just be your usual charming self.”

she shook her head, adjusting the loose cardigan over her blouse as she walked toward the windows. the aisle was bathed in golden light, and at first, she only saw the figure sitting on the stool, hunched slightly over something in his hands. it wasn’t until she got closer that she froze.

seungmin?

he didn’t notice her at first, too focused on whatever he was writing. his profile was sharper in the soft light, the cap hiding most of his messy brown hair. she hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to speak, but curiosity got the better of her.

“so you come to libraries now too?”

her voice was soft but laced with a playful edge, and seungmin startled slightly, his head snapping up. his dark eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing in faint recognition.

“you,” he said flatly, closing his notebook as if on instinct. “what are you doing here?”

y/n tilted her head, her grin widening. “i work here.”

he blinked, clearly caught off guard. “work here?”

“yup,” she said, crossing her arms. “not that you’d know, considering you don’t seem to come here much.”

“i don’t,” he admitted, leaning back slightly on the stool. “this isn’t really my thing.”

“i can see.. then what brings you here today?”

“returning a book,” he said simply, tapping the closed notebook against his knee.

she raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “you don’t strike me as the type to rent books, either.”

“well, it wasn’t mine,” he clarified. “a friend borrowed it under my name.”

“ah,” she said, nodding. “makes sense. still, didn’t think i’d see you here.”

“same,” he replied, his tone neutral but his gaze steady on her. “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, it is a new job,” she said, shrugging lightly. “started about a week ago. felix and i both work part time, after uni.”

“felix?”

“the guy at the front desk,” she explained. “my best friend. he’s nice—well, mostly,” she added with a small laugh.

seungmin didn’t comment on that, his eyes flickering toward the front desk briefly before settling back on her.

“alright, mr. mysterious,” she said, tilting her head playfully, “if you’re not here to rent books or socialize, what’s the notebook for? don’t think i didn’t notice you scribbling something down.”

seungmin’s fingers tightened slightly around the notebook resting on his knee, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer. finally, he shrugged, his voice low. “just… thoughts. random things.”

“random, huh?” she echoed, leaning forward just enough to tease without invading his space. “like what? are you secretly writing the next great novel?”

he huffed, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips. “no.”

“then poetry?” she guessed, her eyes sparkling. “or are you jotting down world domination plans? oh, wait! is it—”

“it’s none of those,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind.

“you’re no fun.”

“you talk too much,”

“i’ve been told that before,” she replied, unfazed. “but come on, i’m curious! what could possibly be so secretive that you can’t share with your friendly neighborhood library worker?”

he gave her a long, measured look, as if debating whether or not to humor her. “it’s just a journal,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a murmur. “nothing special.”

her expression softened at that, and she straightened slightly. “a journal?”

“yeah,” he said, his eyes dropping to the notebook. “helps me think.”

“that’s actually… really cool,” she said, her voice sincere. “i’ve tried keeping journals before, but i always end up doodling in the margins or writing nonsense.”

seungmin glanced at her, his brow raising slightly. “why?”

“i guess i’m too impatient,” she said with a small laugh. “my thoughts move faster than my pen can keep up.”

he didn’t respond, but there was something in his gaze that made her feel like he understood.

they fell into a comfortable silence again, the soft rustling of pages and distant hum of felix’s humming at the front desk filling the space. y/n leaned back against the shelf, her arms crossed loosely, and studied him for a moment.

“you’re a quiet one, huh?” she said finally, her tone light.

“we're in a library.”

“oh my bad. no! but still, in the field-”

“is that a problem?”

“not at all,” she said quickly, smiling. “it’s just… different. most people i know are always trying to fill the silence, you know? but you’re just okay with it.”

seungmin shrugged, his gaze shifting to the window. “silence is easier.”

“easier than what?”

“than talking.”

she blinked at the honesty in his reply, her teasing smile softening into something more thoughtful. “i guess i can see that,” she said quietly. “but talking isn’t so bad, you know. especially when the person you’re talking to isn’t half bad.”

he looked at her then, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “you think so?”

“obviously,” she said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “i mean, you’re tolerating me, and that’s saying something.”

seungmin’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile she’d seen from him. “you’re persistent, i’ll give you that.”

“thank you,” she said, pretending to curtsy dramatically. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

they stayed like that for a while, the silence between them growing less like a void and more like a bridge. y/n found herself wondering what he was thinking, what stories were tucked away in that notebook of his.

“so,” she said eventually, her voice soft, “if you don’t come here often, where do you usually go?”

he hesitated, his fingers idly tapping the edge of the notebook. “the field. or home.”

“not much of an explorer, huh?”

“not really.”

“well,” she said, her tone brightening, “i'm no dora but if you ever feel like venturing out, i know a all the good spots. i mean, i do live here since i was three, and i do work here now, so you’ll know where to find me.”

seungmin looked at her, his gaze lingering for a moment before he nodded slightly. “okay, but don't take my word for it.”

“already ahead of 'ya!” she beamed.

“y/n!” she heard her friend's voice calling her, it immediately widening her eyes.

“well,” she said, pushing off the shelf and clasping her hands behind her back, quickly “excuse um.. felix.” she clears her throat awkwardly. “i should probably get back to work before felix yells at me, again.”

“you should.”

“i should..”

seungmin huffed softly, shaking his head.

“see you around, car girl,” he corrected quietly, almost to himself.

she froze, turning back to face him. “what did you just call me?”

he looked up, his expression unreadable but his tone steady. “car girl. suits you.”

y/n blinked, her cheeks warming slightly. “i—well—okay. i guess i’ll take it.”

“see you around, mysterious baseball guy,” she said, flashing him a playful grin as she started to walk away. “what? you get what you give.”

he raised an eyebrow. “mysterious baseball guy, really?”

she grinned. “well, you called me ‘car girl,’ didn’t you? it’s only fair.”

he shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips as he replied, “sure. see you, car girl.”

and for the first time, as she walked back to the front desk, she felt like something between them had shifted—softly, subtly, but undeniably.

she turned again, her heart fluttering inexplicably as she walked back to the front desk. felix raised an eyebrow as she returned, but she waved him off, not ready to explain the strange, quiet boy sitting by the window.

seungmin stayed where he was, his pen hovering over the open page of his notebook. slowly, deliberately, he wrote,

car girl.

the air outside the convenience store carried a faint chill, the kind that hinted at winter’s slow approach. y/n stepped out, balancing the plastic bag of groceries on her hip while holding her phone in her other hand. the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a gradient of pale blue and deep indigo, and the streetlights had just started flickering on.

she didn’t notice it at first, not until she heard a faint whimper. a stray puppy. it was small, shivering by the edge of the pavement, its thin brown fur offering little protection against the cool evening air.

“oh, you poor baby,” she murmured, immediately setting down her bags and crouching to its level. the pup looked up at her with wary eyes, its ears pinned back, but it didn’t run.

“hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, reaching out a hand. “i won’t hurt you.”

the puppy sniffed cautiously before stepping closer, its small tail wagging hesitantly. she smiled, her heart melting as she stroked its head gently.

“you must be starving,” she said, trying to converse with the dog, glancing at the convenience store behind her. you can call her idiotic, but hey, she's a sunshine! “wait here, okay? i’ll get you something.”

she straightened, leaving the groceries by the curb as she darted back inside. when she returned a few minutes later, she had a packet of wet dog food and a disposable bowl. she opened the packet, her fingers fumbling slightly in her hurry, and poured the food into the bowl.

“there you go,” she said, setting it down.

the puppy sniffed the bowl before diving in, eating with the kind of desperation that made her chest ache.

“slow down, buddy,” she said gently, laughing softly. “it’s not going anywhere.”

as she watched the puppy eat, she pulled out one of the ice creams that she'd got from the cvs, peeling the lid off and taking a small bite. the cold sweetness melted on her tongue, and for a moment, she let herself enjoy the simple pleasure of the moment.

“y/n?”

the familiar voice startled her, and she turned quickly, her eyes widening as she spotted seungmin standing a few feet away. he had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his baseball cap pulled low, and his expression was unreadable as always.

“seungmin?” she said, blinking. “what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he replied, stepping closer, crouching down beside her. his eyes flicked to the puppy, which was still happily eating. “who's this?”

“well, a stray,” she said, brushing her hands on her skirt as she still stood crouched. “i found it shivering out here. couldn’t just leave it.”

he crouched down, studying the puppy with quiet interest. “you have a thing for strays, don’t you?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“first a stray guy, now a stray pup,” he said, glancing up at her with a faint smirk.

“are you calling yourself a stray? am i hearing you right? also- you're not.. stray, you’re just selectively social.” y/n blinked before laughing, her cheeks warming slightly.

“is that what you’re calling it?” he muttered, but his tone was light.

“well, maybe, i just have a thing for dog-like people.”

“are you calling me a dog?”

“yes. i mean- no, but yeah! i mean, look at you. your side profile looks like one of an adorable dog's.”

“so first you call me a dog, and second, you're calling me cute?”

“did i stutter?”

“bold.”

“no, just truthful.”

the puppy finished eating and looked up at seungmin, its tail wagging tentatively. he reached out a hand, letting it sniff him before scratching behind its ears.

“cute,” he said simply, glancing over to her then back at the puppy, his voice soft.

y/n smiled, watching the scene unfold. there was something about the way he moved, so careful and deliberate, that made her heart feel strange.

“do you a dog of your own at home?”

“what makes you say that?”

“you're petting it well, like a true owner.” she grinned, shrugging. “or is it just your dog-like instincts, after all you are interacting with your kind.”

“if you don't stop-”

then came a tiny bark, from the puppy, looking at the two as they turned their heads.

“what? don't tell me you want more?”

woof.

one cvs pet-cup later.

“i got ice cream,” she said after a moment, holding up the second ice cream cup. “want some?”

he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “ice cream? in this weather?”

“it’s never the wrong time for ice cream,” she said firmly. “besides, i got chocolate. don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate.”

“i don’t dislike it,” he said, standing and taking the cup from her. “thanks.”

they stood side by side, leaning against the railing by the curb as they ate. the dog lay down at their feet, looking content for the first time that evening.

“so,” y/n said, breaking the comfortable silence. “what brings you out here?”

“groceries,” he said, nodding toward a small bag he’d set down earlier.

“for your family?”

“my dorm-mate and i,” he said simply, taking a small bite of the ice cream.

“oh, i see, you're a good friend and dorm-mate then, huh?” she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

he shrugged, his expression unreadable. “i can't cook without burning the kitchen down and i owe the guy for cooking everytime.”

“you baseball types are all the same.”

“excuse me?”

“my grandpa used to be on a big player back in the day, and surprise surprise, he can't cook for a living either.”

“hey, it's called a skill. you can't balance two at once, can you?”

“i cook the best stews, well after my grandma. and i'm a commerce student.”

“it differs each person.”

“whatever you say, baseball guy.”

they fell into silence again, the kind that felt less like an absence of words and more like an understanding. y/n finished her ice cream and bent down to pick up the empty dog bowl, her cardigan slipping off one shoulder in the process.

seungmin’s gaze flickered to her then, lingering for a moment longer than it should have. the way her hair fell loosely around her face, the way her eyes softened as she looked at the pup—it was a kind of beauty that felt unassuming, effortless.

when she straightened and caught him staring, he looked away quickly, his ears turning slightly pink beneath his cap.

“you’re quiet again,” she said, tilting her head. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, his voice a little too sharp.

she didn’t press, though she smiled knowingly. “you’re hard to figure out, you know that?”

“good,” he muttered, finishing the last of his ice cream.

she laughed, the sound light and musical. “well, i think i’m getting there. slowly but surely.”

the puppy yawned, curling up at their feet, and y/n crouched down again, running a hand over its back. “you think it has a home?” she asked softly.

“doesn’t look like it,” seungmin said, his tone quieter now.

“i wish i could take it in,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “but my grandparents… i know they’d be thrilled about a puppy in the house, but they're already busy to take care of it. and i have uni.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the dog. “it’s lucky you found it,” he said after a moment. “not everyone would stop.”

she looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “i guess i just can’t help it,” she said with a small smile. “things like this make me… happy, you know? helping.”

he met her gaze then, his dark eyes steady. “yeah. i can see that.”

for a moment, neither of them spoke, the world around them fading into the background. it was just the two of them, the quiet, and the warmth of something unspoken but undeniable.

“well,” y/n said eventually, breaking the spell, “i should probably get this little guy to a shelter or something.”

“i’ll come with you,” seungmin said, his voice firm.

she blinked. “are you seriously offering to hang out with me?”

“i want to help the puppy. you're just a.. plus one deal.” he said, cutting her off.

“yeah, right.” her cheeks warmed again, but she nodded, her smile soft. “okay. let’s go.”

as they walked down the quiet street, the dog trotting happily between them, y/n found herself stealing glances at seungmin. for all his gruffness and quiet ways, there was something about him that made her want to know more.

and though he didn’t say much, the way his gaze softened when he looked at her made her think he felt the same.

the streetlights cast a warm glow as y/n and seungmin walked side by side, the stray dog happily trotting between them. the soft hum of the town at night—distant cars, the faint buzz of streetlights—filled the silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though; it felt like the kind of quiet you could sink into, where words weren’t necessary but still welcome.

she pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at the time. “i should call my grandparents. let them know i’ll be a bit late.”

seungmin looked at her briefly, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “you don’t have to explain to me.”

she smirked at his dry tone. “well, i wasn’t asking for permission, mr. quiet.”

he huffed softly, his version of a laugh, and she pressed the call button.

the phone barely rang before a warm, slightly teasing voice came through. “y/n, where are you? you said you’d be back by now.”

“sorry, grandpa! i got caught up with something. i’ll explain when i get back.”

her grandfather’s voice softened. “caught up, huh? does this ‘something’ involve a certain baseball boy?”

her face burned instantly, and she shot seungmin a quick glance. thankfully, he seemed entirely focused on the dog. “gramps!” she hissed into the phone, her voice barely above a whisper.

“what?” her grandfather replied, feigning innocence. “i’m just asking.”

“you're impossible,” she muttered, her cheeks still warm. “and no, this has nothing to do with him. i just—uh—found a puppy. a stray. i’m taking it to a shelter.”

“a stray puppy? and you’re walking around this late?”

“i’m fine, grandpa,” she reassured him quickly. “i’m not alone.”

the pause on the other end of the line was telling. then, her grandmother's voice came instead, even more excited. “so, it is the baseball boy! isn’t it?”

“i'll see you later, gramma!” she said quickly, her voice rising slightly in embarrassment.

“hey! be safe. and bring the puppy if the shelter doesn’t take it.”

she hung up, letting out a deep sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“trouble?” seungmin asked, his tone casual but curious.

“not really,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “my grandparents just… like to tease me.”

“about what?”

she hesitated, biting her lip. “nothing important.”

his gaze flicked to her, one brow raised, but he didn’t press further.

instead, she changed the subject. “so, are you always this grumpy, or is it just for me?”

he scoffed lightly, his lips twitching in what might’ve been the start of a smile. “i’m not grumpy.”

“you’re totally grumpy,” she said, grinning. “but it’s okay. i like grumpy.”

“i’m not grumpy,” he repeated, a little more defensively this time.

“sure you’re not,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

the puppy barked softly, as if in agreement, and she laughed. “see? even he thinks you’re grumpy.”

seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “you talk a lot, you know that?”

“yeah,” she said easily, glancing up at him. “but you don’t talk enough, so it balances out.”

he didn’t respond, but the corners of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly.

they walked a little further before she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “do you think anyone will adopt him?”

seungmin glanced down at the pup, whose tail wagged happily as it walked between them. “maybe. he’s small. cute. people like that.”

she nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. “i hope so. he deserves a good home.”

“why didn’t you just take him in?” he asked, his tone more curious than critical.

she shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “i told you, i have uni and my grandparents are already a bit busy and need rest, you know.”

“would you keep him if you had a sitter for the time you were unavailable?”

“in a heartbeat,” she said without hesitation. “but… i don’t know. maybe someday, when i have my own place.”

he nodded, falling silent again.

“what about you?” she asked after a moment. “would you ever get a puppy?”

“maybe,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “if i had time for one, but two of my friends already have dogs, so i guess it is enough for me.”

“you don't seem like a dog person, but i bet you are.” she teased.

“why not?”

she tilted her head, pretending to think. “i don’t know. you’re just… too serious. dogs are all about fun and chaos.”

“and you think i’m not fun?”

“i know you’re not fun,”

his smirk widened, just a fraction. “you don’t know me that well.”

“maybe not,” she admitted, her voice softening. “but i’d like to.”

he glanced at her then, his expression unreadable. the streetlights caught the gold in her eyes, and for a moment, he felt something strange in his chest—something warm and unsettling all at once.

before he could figure out what to say, the dog barked again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“we’re almost there,” she said, pointing to the shelter just ahead.

seungmin nodded, his hands tightening slightly in his pockets.

as they reached the shelter’s entrance, she bent down to give the pup one last pat. “you’re gonna be okay, buddy,” she murmured. “they’ll take good care of you.”

seungmin watched her quietly, his gaze lingering on the way her fingers moved gently over the pup's fur, the way her smile softened even further.

and when she looked up at him, her eyes bright and full of hope, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to figure him out after all.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily thank you luvie <3

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ ORANGE THEORY: TRIO MONSTER

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "It seems that if your lover peel an orange for you without you asking him first, then that means they really love you, since they can do things for you without you even asking they for that."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Male! Reader (can be trans or cis), MLM, homo relationship, man x man relationship, Sanji and Zoro bickering in their scenarios, it's mentioned that the reader likes orange and likes food in general, gay being used in a way to make the other embarrassed (not using for you), term men-kisser, Sanji is a little pervert about your male body (nothing too weird), a lot of terms and nicknames for male people

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,6 in all, 300 for Luffy, 772 for Sanji and 576 for Zoro

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So lol I wanted to do this one because I saw a lot of those one week, then I though was fair for boys having that too. I planned to post this some week ago, but I passed through a lot of things so I got a little unmotivated, but now since I have 700 followers from the night to the day I think I have to give everyone more content, so hm here it is, for all those people... Jesus this is scary, I'm still gonna make an official post for celebrating the followers, but I'm planning a thing for that so maybe it will take a while, but it's coming and with some present for you guys. Enjoy!

➤ Luffy

Naive of you to think that you would need to go to Luffy, the moment you appear on the deck with an orange for your snack, your boyfriend is already on top of you with his arms wrapped around your waist and drooling all over the fruit.

“Hey (y/n), did you get it for me?” He would ask laughing as you huffed at his insatiable hunger.

“No, for me, why would I get it for you?” You said feigning anger with a pout on your lips.

“Because…” Luffy made a hurt face, with big puppy dog eyes and a truly hurt pout. “Because you are my boyfriend and your duty is to feed me!” He said irritated and rocking you in his arms.

You just laughed, Luffy almost never called you his boyfriend, only at appropriate times for him, like now. The boy might have an airhead, but he knew that using titles like that would make you melt and fulfill his every desire.

“That goes for you too” you snorted, offering him the orange “You’re also my boyfriend so you should feed me too” you said laughing at his logic, but still finding it cute.

Luffy just let you go and took the orange in his hands, you were distracted to answer something to Usopp and took your eyes off the boy. Soon you felt him poking you and when you turned around you found Luffy offering you half of the peeled orange.

"Here! Now we’re even, you fed me and I fed you!” He said laughing as he stuffed half of the orange into his mouth and ran off to do something else.

Simply leaving you there with half an orange in your hand, red cheeks and a racing heart. Besides, of course, the obvious certainty that you loved Luffy.

➤ Sanji

It's impossible for Sanji to leave you hungry, he has a biological clock that works solely to always give you treats and small snacks between important meals. It's easier for you to get tired from eating so much than to actually get hungry around this man, especially when you're his boyfriend, and therefore his number one priority.

You had just helped Nami and received one of her precious oranges as a reward, so you decided it was a good snack until lunch time that was approaching. You entered the kitchen and sat at the counter, placing your orange there so you could eat.

“Do you need anything my beloved (y/n)-kun?” Sanji asked, looking at you over his shoulder as he continued preparing for lunch.

“No, I just wanted to stay here with you for a while” you answered him with a smile, Sanji didn't usually let you help him with most of the main meals, he said that the pressure of having to finish the meal on time for everyone was bad for your skin. He would prefer that you could cook calmly and calmly, making meals without a delivery date. That's why you usually only watched him cook the main meals, already knowing that he would refuse your help.

“You are so lovely Mon ange, I am so lucky to have you” he said, sighing dramatically with heart eyes as he turned to you with a lovestruck face, he quickly noticed your orange with curious eyes. "An orange?"

“Huh? Oh yes, I was helping Nami and she gave me one” you explained to him, knowing that he would be curious that you had a snack that he didn't give you.

Before any other movement was made, you heard Nami calling you on the main deck urgently. You huffed angrily and got up, telling Sanji that you would be right back while he opened the kitchen door to resolve whatever situation they needed from you.

When you came back a few minutes later, sitting at the counter again, you noticed that your orange was gone. You looked around looking for the fruit, it wasn't anywhere else on the counter, nor on the table, nor had it fallen on the floor or anywhere nearby.

“Sanji? Have you seen my orange?” You asked, not remembering taking the fruit with you.

“Just a moment my dear” Sanji said, still fiddling with something with his back to you. Confused, you followed his order and waited in silence.

Then your blonde boyfriend turned around and handed you a plate with your orange, but very different from the orange you had initially left. Now it was completely cut and all the pieces separated, that white part that you always complained about was gone and the slices were positioned to form a heart, in addition to, of course, a toothpick stuck into them with a heart design on top.

“You already work so much with those idiots, you shouldn't tire your beautiful male hands…” Sanji said and quickly fell silent, you felt like he was going to say a perverted sentence but he held himself back to keep the moment cute.

“Ah, Sanji, this is so cute” you said, observing the dish that was so well crafted, you hadn't even asked him and yet he did everything as if it were his duty. “Thank you for that love,” you said smiling at him.

Sanji stared at you in silence for a few minutes with flushed cheeks and a shy smile... and then he lost control.

“Ah, my dear (y/n)-kun! Please don't waste your compliments on me! Oh, you are such a kind man! A true gentleman! I could do anything you want my beloved prince! I will serve you all the days of my life and protect your beautiful strong manly body! Oh you are so sexy my dear (y/n)-kun! You are the most handsome man on the entire planet, I am so lucky to be your boyfriend! Please marry me and be my husband!”

You didn't even need to react as Zoro entered the kitchen yawning. “Can you stop being gay, cook? There are people wanting to have lunch”

“Who are you calling gay you little shit?!” Sanji shouted angrily.

“You, man-kisser,” Zoro shot back angrily.

“Listen here, the only man I kiss is my beloved (y/n)-kun and I would rather die than kiss anyone other than him!”

“Still a man-kisser” You decided to ignore them fighting while you ate your oranges… Sanji might be a bit exaggerated but you knew he loved you and you loved him even more.

➤ Zoro

You plopped down next to your boyfriend, sitting next to him against the ship. He complained with a huff about you disturbing him in his nap, since you were practically lying on top of him. So he decided to open his eyes to see what you were doing.

There you were smiling as you held an orange in your lap, you looked beaming as you shouted something to Luffy and Chopper in the distance on the other side of the ship.

"What is that?" Zoro asked about his fruit.

“Hmm? Snack” you said smiling childishly “Sanji gave it to me when I said I was hungry, cool right?” You said excitedly, when it came to eating you were always happy.

But the mention of the cook made Zoro lose all the excitement he gained seeing his cuteness, what was that stupid cook thinking? Sure, Sanji practically hated men and would never be with one, but you were still Zoro's boyfriend! Sanji couldn't just be nice to you like that! That was only the swordsman's right!

You seemed to ignore your boyfriend's instant bad mood, you didn't usually care about Zoro's jealousy, always saying that he exaggerated too much sometimes. Not that it was a lie, but that didn't stop him from feeling jealous. He snorted thinking about millions of things, did you like the cook more because of his kindness?

While you were distracted screaming and talking to your captain about something stupid, Zoro stole the orange from your lap and started peeling the fruit as best he could, after all his anger told him to throw that fruit into the ocean or else throw it at the head of that idiot blonde.

When you stopped talking and went to get your fruit you noticed it was missing, you immediately became desperate for having lost your snack. “Zoro, have you seen my orange?!” You asked looking at your boyfriend, had Luffy caught her while you were distracted?

When you looked over at Zoro, you found him offering you a piece of orange, which was now peeled in his lap and he was separating the slices.

“Huh? Why is this out of nowhere?” You asked curiously, of course Zoro also had his moments of kindness, but you thought there was something behind this action today.

"Do you want it or not? I thought you liked gentle men” he said irritably as his face turned red and a frown formed on his face.

“Huh?” You had to think for a few seconds, but soon you connected all the dots. “Oh! Were you jealous of Sanji? Oh, aren’t you a cute boyfriend?”

"Shut up idiot!" Zoro shouted as he angrily shoved the piece of orange into your mouth, forcing you to chew and swallow the fruit.

You continued laughing as Zoro cursed you and tried to make you swallow all the orange he peeled for you. Whether he was trying to feed you or kill you, you didn't know.

“Sanji! Zoro is trying to kill (y/n) by choking on an orange!” Luffy shouted, amused by the scene.

“Zoro, stop wasting my orange!” Nami shouted angrily at him.

In the end Zoro decided that he would be the one to bring you snacks, every time you went too long without eating he would show up with something stolen from the kitchen. He had to make sure he marked his territory and let you know he could be gentle too.

[lovemaybankk]

ultraviolence - part 1: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader (18+)

pairing: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

this is a two-part series, read part 2 here! (soon to be added)

inspired by lana del rey's song, "ultraviolence" ♡

summary: unbeknownst to you, rafe cameron had been quietly watching you for months, his obsession growing darker with each day. one day, rafe's delusions reach a breaking point, and he kidnaps you, keeping you away in a secluded location where he plans to keep you forever.

word count: 2,779 words

author's note: i'm taking a long study break so i can write this... thank you so much for reading guys!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :) and as y'all can tell from my stories, i love lana. this is not proofread yet

p.s. next chapter includes smut!!

warning: cursing, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation

it was your usual evening at the wreck, the heat heavy in the air and the hum of loud conversations filling the space. you moved quickly between tables, balancing plates and glasses with practiced ease.

"hey! guys, you know the bill was only $61.39 for you all. are you sure you meant to put this much down?" you asked hesitantly, holding out the check presenter with the receipt, pen, and cash total of $300 stacked neatly on top.

your voice wavered slightly as their eyes snapped to you, the weight of their attention making you shift uncomfortably. before you could pull away, kelce scoffed and grabbed the presenter from your hands, glancing at the cash on top. his eyes widened, and his tone turned mocking as he turned to his friend. "jeez, rafe, THIS much of a tip for the pogue?"

topper leaned over to take a look, his expression even more condescending as he gave a low chuckle. "seriously, man? she’s just doing her job, there's no need to give her that much."

you froze and your cheeks began to burn under their scrutiny. not only that but you started to notice how rafe's sharp gaze was flicked to yours, lingering a moment too long, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.

"i sincerely apologize miss, they have no idea how to appreciate a person who works as hard as you," he said, his voice quieter than you expected, almost thoughtful. his friends laughed again, clearly not taking him seriously, but rafe maintained his intense eye contact with you. "don’t listen to them. they’re just dumbasses."

the unexpected sincerity in his tone made your stomach flutter, a wave of butterflies you couldn’t quite explain rising in your chest. you nodded awkwardly, muttering a soft "thanks" as your heart raced, before quickly turning away, desperate to escape the intensity of his stare but unable to shake the strange feeling it left behind.

this was the beginning of rafe cameron's obsession with you.

it started as something you barely noticed—passing glances that lingered too long, his intense gaze following your every move.

often, he would follow you outside those walls. his sleek car would be parked down the street, headlights off as he watched you lock up at the end of the night. he followed you home, keeping a safe distance but close enough to know you made it there safely.

he told himself it was because he cared, because you were too sweet, too good for this world to go unprotected. but the boundaries between care and obsession had blurred long ago in his mind.

rafe was always polite when he came in. he would try to have long conversations with you, his voice soft and steady when he spoke to you, his smile always charming. when he’d compliment your work ethic or the way you always remembered his order, you only thought about it as him being a very appreciative and loyal customer who wanted to display his gratitude.

you had no idea about the photographs he kept in his phone, each one taken in secret: you laughing with kiara at the wreck, you walking home late at night, you coming into your bedroom after your shower, and many more.

he had saved your face as his home screen wallpaper or that he stared at all of your photos late into the night, tracing the screen with his thumb as if he could feel you through it. he would look at it and imagine what it would be like to reach out, to close the distance between you and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. he pictured the sound of your laugh, directed at him, soft and genuine as you sat together, completely at ease. he thought about how your voice sounded saying his name, how your eyes would light up when you realized he was the one who truly understood you, the one you were meant to be with.

he always thought you were beautiful, admiring every small part of you. the way your lips curved into a smile when you greeted customers, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were focused, even the little furrow in your brow when you were lost in thought. he loved how the sunlight caught the color of your hair when you stepped outside, and how the curve of your neck seemed to beg for his attention when you tilted your head. he often found himself staring at the way your eyes sparkled, the soft curve of your jawline that seemed so delicate yet strong.

the way your chest could be made out through the tops you wore, the way the band of your shorts would wrap around your waist, and the way your jeans would hug your plump behind. he would become rock-hard at the sight of you. with the photos he had of you changing in your bedroom, he would look at you in the comfort of his bedroom, laying in the dark, with his cock springing out hard and stroking himself at the thought of you being there. he would relentlessly pant and release himself all over his photos of you, imagining it was actually you present for him to paint white.

whenever you were close to him, leaning over him, all he could think about was touching you, making you beg for him to let you feel your release. he wanted to see you bare, moaning and whimpering underneath him as his cock was deep inside your walls. he wanted to feel you closely, specifically feel how your cunt would perfectly wrap around his cock, how deep he could go into your perfect body. he wanted to see you when you cum from his thrusts, see how your back would arch, how your breaths would be ragged, and feel you clenching around him as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. he knew throughout all of this, you would look beautiful.

there was a journal too, hidden in his room, where he meticulously recorded everything he knew about you. like your favorite drink that you would always sip on between waiting tables or the songs you hummed under your breath when you thought no one would hear.

for him, it was about creating a story in his head where you belonged to him, where no one else could come close. he wrote down things you said, even the most casual words, and analyzed them endlessly, searching for signs that you felt the same way he did. he filled pages of what your life together would look like, dreams of taking you away to a place where no one else could interrupt your bond.

you couldn’t see the way his obsession consumed him more with every passing day. the lengths he went to, ensuring anyone who showed interest in you quickly disappeared from your life, were invisible to you. he convinced himself it was for your own good, that he was protecting you from people who couldn’t appreciate you like he did.

to you, he was another customer, polite and generous but otherwise unremarkable. you couldn’t have guessed that out of sight, rafe cameron was waiting for the right time to keep you all to himself.

one day, you went to grab your favorite jacket from the back of your chair at the restaurant, only to find it missing. you shrugged it off, thinking you must've put it somewhere else, maybe at home or in the back room. but then, it happened again. your pen, the one you always kept in your apron pocket, was lost without a trace. maybe you were being forgetful.

it wasn’t until you found something in your bag that didn’t belong to you, a crumpled receipt from a store you didn’t remember visiting, that the unease turned into something more concrete. you could have sworn you hadn’t been there, especially since it was on figure eight. it wasn’t your handwriting on the receipt, but something about it felt familiar.

then, one afternoon, as you were organizing your things, you found your phone in a place you hadn't put it in. not just anywhere, but at the bottom of your bag, buried underneath receipts and snacks. you never would’ve placed it there.

one evening, as you were closing at the restaurant, you felt a sudden, unsettling sensation that someone was standing just outside the door, watching. you looked around, but no one was there. yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t as alone as you thought. as you stepped outside, your heart skipped a beat when you saw something on the ground which was a small hairclip you thought you still had. the realization hit you like a wave: someone had been there, keeping a close eye on everything you did, and you had no idea just how deep this strange presence in your life really went.

"hey...just so you know, that cameron boy came in today asking for you," mrs. carerra informed you as she leaned against the bar counter, her elbow supporting her as she wiped down a glass with a cloth.

you looked at her with confusion. "really?"

"yup, i told him you would be back this evening so maybe we'll see him. just a heads up for you," she said, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by the situation.

your curiosity peaked. "did he say what he needed?"

"no, he just asked for you by name," mrs. carerra replied, shrugging. "don't worry, that cameron boy is harmless."

you smiled, feeling a slight flutter in your stomach. you hadn’t expected someone to ask for you, especially not someone like rafe cameron. he was always around, always asking for you specifically and making sure to catch your eye whenever you were near. it felt intentional, like he was always looking for an excuse to talk to you, to get closer.

at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how often he showed up just when you were working. he’d even wait until you had a free moment, to talk to you, like he was taking every opportunity to be in your presence. and the more you talked, the more you found yourself looking forward to his visits.

later, as you were cleaning up the bar, you glanced over to see a familiar face sitting near the window. it was rafe, and this time, his eyes caught yours across the room. you felt a warmth spread through you as he stood and gave you a small wave. without thinking, you smiled and walked over to his table.

"hey," you said casually, even leaning to take a seat next to him. "how’s it going?"

"good, good," rafe replied, his usual relaxed demeanor in place. "been a long day, but nothing i can't handle. i'm glad to be here and have a nice meal." in reality, he was there to see you. he leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying you a little too carefully. "everything okay?"

you shifted in your seat, suddenly aware of how tense you’d become. "yeah, it’s just...i don’t know." you hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to decide whether you should tell rafe more. it felt like something you should keep to yourself, but there was something about him, the way he was looking at you, that made you wonder if maybe you could.

was he genuinely concerned, or was he just playing along for his own reasons?

"to be honest, lately, i’ve been feeling like someone’s watching me," you admitted, trying to sound casual, but you could hear the nervousness in your voice.

rafe’s expression changed slightly, his gaze narrowing in concern. "what do you mean, like someone is following you?"

you nodded, and you nervously wiped your hands on your apron. "yes, little things keep happening. i’ll find stuff out of place, or i'll get this feeling like someone's been in my space, you know?" you paused, feeling the weight of the confession. you hadn’t meant to share it with him, but his presence made it feel easier.

he tilted his head, his eyes softening as he leaned in slightly. "i’m sure it’s nothing, but i understand that’d make you nervous." his tone was steady, almost comforting, and the way his eyes stared made you feel like he genuinely cared.

"maybe i’m just being paranoid," you muttered, not quite believing your own words. but rafe didn’t look convinced. his silence lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze studying you like he was considering how to make you feel better. he was always so calm, so sure of himself, and that made you feel safe around him.

you shifted, trying to focus on getting his food, walking over to grab the plate from the kitchen. as you walked back to his table, you felt his eyes following you.

it was like he was looking out for you, even if you didn’t fully understand why. there was a quiet confidence in the way he observed you that gave you a sense of comfort, like you were protected in his presence.

when you set the plate in front of him, he caught your gaze again, the smallest smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "thanks," he said softly, his tone warm and sincere. you smiled back, grateful for how easy he made it to be around him. he seemed to know exactly how to put you at ease, like he understood without needing to ask.

you could tell he was paying attention to everything you said, everything you did, and it made you feel special. in that moment, you felt like you were the only person in the room, and everything else faded into the background. as you moved on to check on your other tables, you felt a sense of comfort lingering with you.

as the night went on, rafe's gaze felt protective, almost like he was looking out for you. when the last customer left, rafe stood up from his seat, walking over to where you were wiping down the counter.

"hey, if you ever need someone to walk you to your car or, you know, just feel safer getting home, i can give you a ride," he said casually, his voice still calm but with an underlying sincerity that caught your attention.

you hesitated for a moment, but the idea of having a person you trusted, who seemed so grounded, with you made the idea of driving you home feel a lot less intimidating. "i think that would be really nice, actually," you said, the words coming out easier than you expected. the way he made you feel safe in that moment gave you a sense of relief.

he smiled, giving you a reassuring nod. "no problem at all," he said, his voice light but sincere. "let’s get you home safely." there was a warmth in his expression. as you grabbed your things and followed him outside, you felt comfort in knowing he was there, a steady presence that made you safe.

you got into rafe's car, feeling a sense of relief that he was there to make sure you got home safely. at first, the drive felt normal: smooth, quiet, with the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. rafe kept the conversation light, asking about your day, and you found yourself smiling at the easy way he talked, the comfort of his presence easing your earlier worries.

but as the drive continued, you started to notice that he wasn’t heading in the direction of your neighborhood anymore. you glanced over, furrowing your brow.

"rafe…this isn’t the way to my house," you said, a slight unease creeping into your voice. he didn’t respond at first, his eyes fixed on the road, and then he casually turned the wheel again, steering down a darkened street that you didn’t recognize.

your heart began to race as you realized something wasn’t right. before you could say anything else, you felt a sharp pressure on your face as rafe’s hand clamped over your mouth, his fingers cold against your skin. you tried to pull away, but it was no use, he was stronger than you expected. your head spun as you struggled to breathe, the harsh scent of something chemical filling the car. your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt. you tried to scream, to fight, but everything was fading, and all you could do was hope that this was a nightmare as you drifted to sleep.

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[erodasfishtacos]

Steer Clear Pt. III

summary: yn figuring out dynamics with her grumpy flat mate. word count: 7k warnings: abo!, moody h

author’s note:

There is 8 more parts to this up on patreon

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days (usually two) consistently// currently updating doctor!h blind date

All writings are accurately and always added to the organized folders in the collections feature

There are currently 300 + pieces available to read

It only cost $3USD —— thanks for any support and check me out here! PART ONE PART TWO +++++

YN‘s day goes by in a blink of an eye.

She and Beatrice slept most of the morning and afternoon without interruption.

YN was of course wrapped as tightly as possible in the blanket that Harry had warned her about.

He was completely right too.

It was absolutely sodden with his scent, YN wishes she had an unlimited supply of it.

It makes her wonder if it’s a reaction purely based off of her current state or she actually would like this scent just as much when she wasn’t in heat.

YN finds herself wishing that Harry was back in their apartment.

It’s a fierce protectiveness, possessiveness that is flaring up in a way that is very unlike her.

Typically, she did the exact opposite.

She pushed people out, sure, all of those said people have been betas but still.

YN had never wanted Niall to stay or anybody else she was close to either.

She would turn venomous, mean, into someone that didn’t match her true personality.

It was pure fight or flight mode that she was willing to act whatever way was necessary to get everybody out of her protected space.

Around three is when YN starts paying closer attention to the clock.

It’s stupid though because Harry very rarely walks in the door earlier than eleven in the evening.

He’s your alpha. He’ll know to come home, YN omega assures her.

“He’s not my fucking alpha,” YN hisses to herself because she doesn’t need to know when he’s getting home because they’re not in any type of relationship.

Exactly the opposite, YN is still convinced more than not that Harry is only tolerating at best until he can find somewhere else that’s not with a broken omega.

With all that being said, YN still watches the clock and in no time, eleven has long passed.

She’s tired but there’s irritation building as she watches it get closer to midnight and her alpha- Harry still hasn’t come home yet.

YN has rubbed her face into the blanket so much that it was ridiculously enough already starting to lose the scent that he had interwoven into every fiber of the knit material.

It’s hard for YN to always decipher her emotions in these cycles before every time seems real, logical, and more than that more intense.

So YN sits and sits and sits on that couch until she finally hears the doorknob turn with a key before it turns open softly.

Harry is assuming she’s asleep, logically, and obviously trying to be quiet as he leans down to untie his shoes before placing them neatly in the spot.

He hangs his gym bag on one of the hooks and shucks off his jacket before tucking it over the bag.

YN doesn’t even realize that she’s growling at him until it exits her mouth and he turns his head to look at her, clearly confused but not startled necessarily.

Harry doesn’t react, he turns back to lock the door before finally making his way to the living area with the same, infuriating emotionless set on his features.

YN raises her pitch, more pushy, not requesting but demanding a response from him.

“I know you’re not growling at me,” Harry rumbles bored, not giving her the attention or response that she was craving, that her omega desired.

YN does not relent, she doesn’t even recognize herself as she watches Harry watch her - his eyes falling on the blanket she was currently wrapped up in.

YN tugs it closer to her body, protective and unwilling to give it up because she felt safe in it.

“I’m not going to take your blanket,” Harry replies to her growls, steady and still almost sounding unbothered, and he doesn’t even care that she loves his scent so much.

YN glares at him, watches him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and her omega hates that it feels rejected by the way he doesn’t come to comfort her.

Harry pulls out a container of one of his meals he’s already prepped for the week, basic chicken and rice that he pops in the microwave before mixing up another protein drink.

Once he’s finished shaking the drink, he takes a long chug from the bottle before he’s finally looking at her again.

Even though his face and body language was appearing unaffected, the thing that gave him away was the way he was pumping out his scent - obnoxious and stronger than necessary.

YN wasn’t really sure what that was about but she was focused on much bigger things at this point.

“Are you going to explain to me what I’ve done that has you so up in arms?” Harry raises an eyebrow, taking another slow sip and licking his bottom lip, “I haven’t had anyone over. I told you I won’t do that again. I will remind you that I’m not a mind reader.”

He was so alpha, so nonchalant, so just….alpha it was frustrating and unfair.

YN’s throat goes dry because she’s not getting the comfort, the reassurance she needs, and in the past, when betas have tried to reassure her old boyfriends and flings, that was when she would turn nasty on them.

She has no urge to get nasty with the alpha standing in front of her.

Instead, embarrassingly enough, she wants to cry because she just wants to bury her face in his neck where the scent is the strongest and she doesn’t know in such a short amount of time that her viewpoint on him has changed so drastically.

“Are you going to answer me or shall I go to my room?” Harry prompts after a long pause of her just staring at him, trying to swallow down the range of emotions that was swirling through her at this time.

YN growls again, louder and more agitated.

“Enough,” Harry finally breaks but just barely, his teeth flashing at her in warning, “I’m sick of the growling. You’re like a feral pup. Tell me what's going on, this is the last time I’m asking you before I go into my room. It’s nearly two in the morning, you shouldn’t even be awake.”

YN’s growls cut off almost instantly even though it wasn’t a command in his alpha timbre, she mumbles, “You came home late.”

Harry grabs his food from the microwave, “Speak up, you were loud enough a minute ago.”

“You came home late,” YN grits out, she knows how utterly ridiculous she sounds, she knows okay?

She wishes she could swallow the words back up.

Harry’s eyebrow only gives the slightest raise before his face is blank again, “I’m always home late. You should have told me if I have been disturbing your sleep by getting in at this time.”

YN stands up, flustered and her face felt hot with a mixture of rage and embarrassment, “That’s not why.”

Harry sighs as he drops his fork to the counter, “What’s the issue then? Do you not want me here? Are you trying to kick me out?”

A distressed whine leaves her throat, that’s not her intention of this conversation at all, and the thought of him leaving makes her want to be sick.

Harry shows he is at least somewhat in-tuned with his alpha when he perks up at the noise, “Okay, that’s not it then.”

YN blinks at him.

“Go to bed,” Harry tells her evenly, no hint at whether any of this has even slightly affected him, “There’s no need to wait up for me. I’ll always be home.”

He doesn’t really get it.

YN wants to cry which means it’s the opportune time to go to bed, moving towards her bedroom without another word to him.

After she uses the restroom and almost gets in her nest, she realizes she hadn’t brought the striped blanket with her which makes her even more unsettled.

If that’s even possible at this point.

Just as she swings open her door, Harry is walking away from her and towards the living area.

He doesn’t look back.

However, the blanket is folded neatly in front of her door, and when she picks it up - she’s fucking delighted to realize that he laid more of his scent on it.

Maybe his inner alpha did exist after all.

YN purrs relentlessly with the blanket perfectly nestled into her bedding like everything else, it was an absolute perfect addition.

If she wasn’t so tired from her long night up, waiting for him, maybe she would have considered the implications of Harry rescenting a blanket for her and leaving it at her door.

Instead, she brushes it off as a nearly fed-up alpha who just wants the needy omega he’s cohabits with to just chill the fuck out and leave him alone.

The latter seems much more likely the scenario for YN.

+

Harry doesn’t not bring up the incident again.

He doesn’t sit her down and set firm boundaries with her that she’s not allowed to control when he comes and goes from the house.

He doesn’t scold her and tell her that he’s an alpha who will not tolerate an omega, who isn’t even his mate, growling at him for no logical reason.

Instead, Harry does the exact opposite of those things.

Their communication is still minimal at best but Harry comes home before ten every single night now without fail.

From the night on after YN’s behavior towards him, he walks through the doors before the clock strikes ten, and continues on with his nightly routine.

He doesn’t acknowledge the change or why he’s doing it.

But YN doesn’t find herself needing to growl at him every time he walks in the door.

She also thinks she must be getting closer to her heat or maybe even insane because she swears that her little items she steals from Harry, like shirts and hoarding the blanket in there as well, are never losing an ounce of his scent either.

Every time she crawls into her nest, it’s the same overwhelming rich and dizzying aroma that is distinctly him and only him.

Harry doesn’t make any type of effort to sit or socialize with YN if she’s in the living room.

What she does notice is that he pops out of his room every so often and YN feels like he’s checking in on her because sometimes he opens the fridge, stares for a moment, and closes it without grabbing anything.

But YN can feel his gaze on the back of her and it makes goosebumps break out on her arms for a reason she can’t really explain.

There’s tension, YN feels like she can almost see it, thick and cloying but she’s not going to be the one to break it either.

On this particular night, YN was more irritable than she’d been in at least a week and it was mostly because her inner omega was unsettled by the lack of attention from Harry.

YN hasn’t felt the need to growl at him recently but her mind keeps replaying the time she hugged him and he squeezed her neck.

How could it go from so intimate to nothing in a matter of seconds.

Does YN choose to stir the pot?

Absolutely.

The next night, right around nine-thirty, YN decides it would be a wonderful time to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies from scratch.

Harry claims the kitchen when he’s home for his dinner.

If YN so much as tries to enter for a bottle of water, it’s not that he would stop her but she’s accustomed to the low grunt that he’ll let slide from the back of his throat at his displeasure of sharing his space.

Fucking alpha.

YN’s used to omegas and betas who are not only okay with sharing space but encourage it.

YN wasn’t trying to be overly messy but she naturally was clumsy, there was flour dusted across the countertop (maybe even a little bit on Beatrice), the drippy yolk of an egg on the side of the bowl when she cracked one funky.

YN’s hands were caked with a mixture of egg, sugar, flour as she tried to roll each ball of cookie dough into similar shapes and size - the made it look so much easier on Bake-Off than now.

When Harry walks in the door at nine-fifty three, doing his typical, neatly lining up his shoes, hanging up his gym bag, and then placing YN’s shoes neatly as well because she just kicks hers off.

Very opposite for their secondary genders.

It would be expected that YN would be the one organizing while Harry was haphazard and careless because he knew an omega would clean up after him - he didn’t seem to share the same beliefs as other alphas.

Harry takes a few steps into the kitchen until he’s on the opposite side of the bar that looks into the open space of the kitchen, an irritated tick in his jaw as he observes the mess that is the kitchen.

”S’quite enough of this, yeah?” Harry rumbles, he looks rougher than usual, not putting on such a good mask as his normal is.

His eyebrows are knitted deeply enough that his lids cover his eyes more than normal, his nostrils were flaring, and his upper lip was crooked upwards in a makeshift almost-snarl as he let out an exasperated huff.

YN turns on the clueless act, a perfectly crafted expression of faux surprise covering her face, “You don’t like cookies?”

”Out of the kitchen,” Harry replies sharply, his hackles would be up in any other situation and they were close, shoulders so tense that they were nearly to his ears as he stared daggers into her.

It was intense enough that she got a zip of electricity up her spine that she couldn’t tell whether it was arousal or fear.

Maybe both.

Definitely both.

Her inner omega wasn’t all together clueless and knew that she shouldn’t be taunting an already on-edge alpha because she wanted attention that she didn’t even deserve or should expect from him.

”Once I’m done with the cookies,” YN waves her hand, airily and trying to appear unbothered like he normally is - she gives him credit because it’s a lot harder than it looks if she’s being honest with herself.

”You’re not finishing the cookies,” Harry shakes his head, turning the corner into the kitchen, and making YN’s heart rate spike instantaneously, “You’re going to sleep. You need rest and this isn’t the time to make fuckin’ cookies.”

”It’s the perfect time to make them,” YN turns it back easily, trying not to let the quiver in his tone as obvious, she can hear it easily and hopes that he doesn’t.

”Do you think I’m stupid?” Harry asks bluntly, his tone louder than normal as he reaches over the stovetop to press a button on the panel to turn the oven off from where it was preheated and ready for the cookies, “You’ve never made cookies once since I’ve been here. You are off work and have all day but you choose right now. The only time I use the kitchen.”

Shit.

She wasn’t as smooth as she thought.

YN swallows harshly, the quip about turning off the oven dying in her throat.

He doesn’t acknowledge the implications of what he just accused her of.

He ignores it like he does with everything else.

”Go to bed,” Harry repeats, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watches her, he catches onto her game easily even if he doesn’t completely know the reason that she’s playing it.

“I have to clean up,” YN argues now, she wasn’t going to leave him to clean up the mess.

That was never her intention plus with how exhausted, irritated he appears, YN was already feeling guilty for picking such a bad day to mess with him.

”I’ll clean it up,” Harry retorts firmly, the timbre coming into his tone but it wasn’t enough to be commanding, just tilting on the edge of it, “Leave it alone and go to sleep.”

YN hesitates by the doorway of the kitchen, loitering as she watches Harry roughly grab a towel from where it was hanging on the oven door, reaching under the sink for the cleaning spray, and getting to work.

This did the opposite of YN’s intentions, it made her feel even more unsettled.

She somehow managed to not even really get Harry’s attention this way, he just dismissed her again.

YN doesn’t argue further, doesn’t want to push him to use his alpha command but she does retreat down the hall with her metaphorical tail between her legs and goes into her room like Harry had asked multiple times.

She can’t sleep, her nest doesn’t feel right and she can’t make it feel right.

YN is trying desperately not to cry when she rearranges a sweater for the fifth time to no avail.

As much as she doesn’t want to leave the bedroom, she needs a break from her nest because it is driving her insane, and it’s been long enough that Harry should be out of the kitchen for her to grab something to drink.

This was hell.

YN opens her door, takes one step forward, and her foot hits something soft.

When she glances down, it’s one of the blankets from the living room, neatly folded and right where the one was before.

YN picks it up, pressing it to her face, and realizing that it was another scented blanket.

A gift from the alpha almost.

But YN wonders if it’s just stressing him out to have such an dysfunctional omega in the same proximity of her.

It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t a courting gesture, it was a simple gesture her for his own benefit.

Or that what’s her inner omega was convincing her even as she arranged it nicely and fell asleep promptly afterwards like she never even struggled to sleep in the first place.

++

When YN wakes up in the morning, reflecting on the night before, she realizes that she really cannot continue to put Harry through this mayhem of her pre-heat.

It’s not fair to him, he’s just an alpha who she happened to agree to let move in with her who didn’t really now what he was signing u poor, and she really wasn’t making his life easy with all of it.

If YN had thought about it for longer, she would have realized it was an absolutely horrible idea.

However, she was much more focused on not embarassing herself in front of the most attractive alpha she’d ever come across anymore than she already had.

She couldn’t believe she even attempted the cookie thing, getting so easily called out, and getting nothing of a reaction.

YN doesn’t think it’s possible to embarass herself further than she already had in that scenario.

It was time to change something.

For the first time, YN was going to try to seek out an alpha.

It was a knee-jerk, too much of an emotional reaction when she sends a text to Niall.

YN: Blaze tonight? We haven’t been clubbing in a hot minute! Thinkin’ it’s about time to find me an alpha ;-)

Niall: Fuck yeah, pick u up at nine?

YN: I’ll be waiting.

And again, if Niall knew she was in pre-heat, he would never agree.

However, what Niall doesn’t know will not hurt him.

Right?

+++++++_ When YN walks out of her bedroom after shooting off that text to Niall, satisfied to have plan to get her mind off of an alpha that is not only out of her league but minimally tolerates her.

The house smells amazing but it’s not just because of Harry’s scent (that’s a big part of it) but YN feels like now she must be hallucinating because the apartment smells like chocolate chip cookies.

Sure enough when she makes her way into the kitchen, there’s a clear storage container holding what looked to be a dozen chocolate chip cookies.

And when YN peels back the lid, taking one out to examine, she realizes that Harry had made the cookies.

The frustration that shot through YN was for multiple different reasons.

Did he think that it was funny to tell her she couldn’t and then he did?

He looked so incredibly exhausted last night and he was still vindictive enough to stay up and make cookies?

She had watched him with her own eyes lean over to turn the oven off which meant he would have had to preheat it again.

YN glances over at the sink to see that there are no dishes either which means after all this, he really did clean the whole kitchen.

It was most likely to prove a point.

It felt like the point was that she wasn’t a good omega.

When she wasn’t in these vicious cycles, she was tidy and more on-top of things but in it, there was almost this brain fog that blanketed her.

The chocolate chip cookies just solidified that she needs to go out tonight, she needs to get her mind off of Harry, and find another alpha.

Her omega despises the thought but she pushes that prodding inner monologue as far back in her mind as possible as she’s getting ready in her room.

YN goes for a simple but sexy dress, a makeup without wearing makeup look, making a subtle look with dewy skin and a highlight on her nose, hair loose and purposefully messy in waves.

She looked good, felt good as she gave herself a once over in the mirror, and before she knew it, Niall was texting her that he was out front.

YN doesn’t leave a note, why would she?

She doesn’t owe that alpha anything, just like he doesn’t owe her.

They’re not even friends for crying out loud.

YN gives Beatrice half a dozen kisses before locking the door on her way out of the apartment, fixing her hair in the reflection of the elevator doors as she waits for them to open.

Niall unlocks the door for YN to slip into the passenger seat, “Whoa, you tryin’ to pull tonight with that outfit, huh? You’d get any betas in the room.”

“Alpha,” YN corrects as she places her small purse in her lap.

Niall’s eyebrows raise towards his hairline, “Since when are you interested in alphas? You’d literally never wanted to even interact with one.”

YN shrugs, not quite willing to share the honest answer, “Something new, I guess.”

Niall doesn’t buy it, as he pulls away from the curb, “Does this have anything to do with the fact that you live with an alpha now?”

YN lets out a faux-surprised laugh, lying through her teeth when she says, “If anything, it makes me never want to meet another alpha again. I don’t know what you were thinking when you thought that’d be a good idea.”

The smile falters on Niall’s face, his big blue eyes turning into a pool of concern, “Is it bad? Will he not leave? You could have told me-”

YN’s heart rate spikes, she doesn’t want him to think that or report that back to Harry.

“No! Jesus, Niall. I was joking. Harry’s a great flatmate, a little quiet but as non-problematic as they come,” YN lets another lie slip out, this one a bit easier because she wasn’t intending to paint a negative picture of Harry to her friend.

“Oh, okay. Good,” Niall nods as his shoulders relax, “It’s not like I could even match him anyways. There’s a reason they call him The Annihilator.”

“Who calls him that?” YN asks, having never heard the name before.

“It’s his fighting name. I told you he fights for money, that’s where he is most nights. That's what they call him because he rarely loses,” Niall shrugs as he stops at a light, looking over at her, “You’ve had to have seen his muscles. He’s ripped even for an alpha. Dude is the definition of an alpha.”

YN could definitely agree with that.

YN also doesn’t like the idea that he fights for money or knowing that’s what Harry does when he’s not at their apartment.

He hides it well when he walks in the door, YN sometimes notices a bruise or a mark but she knew he boxed.

She didn’t realize that it was actual fighting where he could be injured or seriously injure someone else.

“He didn’t tell you that? Huh. I guess it’s not surprising, I only found out by accident,” Niall shrugs easily, honking when the car in front of them doesn’t move, “He rarely shares anything about himself.”

“How do you accidentally find that out?” YN asks curiously, Harry wasn’t going to hand over this information nor would she ask him so Niall was the best second option to get the information out of him.

“I was walking home from the pub one night, a Saturday, I think,” Niall recalls, pausing as he remembers, “There was a huge crowd of people, a line waiting outside of a gym, and I thought that it was odd because it was like two in the morning.”

“I was a little buzzed, wasn’t necessarily in my right mind, and I followed the crowd into the gym to see what all the excitement was about,” Niall continues, “I realized a bit too late that it was an illegal fighting ring. I went to leave but as soon as they announced the main fight of the night, Harry was the person who walked out that had people going insane.”

“I stayed, he didn’t notice me in the crowd. I really didn’t know anything about him. He was a guy I worked with who I occasionally talked about the weather and sports with,” Niall laughs, “He really fucked the dude he was fighting up. I mean like…within the minute, the dude was knocked out cold.”

“It was odd, very Harry-like but he didn’t even look excited that he just won. When the ref raised his hand in the air, everyone was screaming, and Harry just looked bored. It was crazy, I think I would feel on top of the world.”

“I didn’t think he noticed me in the crowd. He really wasn’t in the ring for that long nor did I think he even glanced into the crowd once.”

Niall bites his lip for a moment, “The next Monday, he kinda confronted me in the break room. He told me to keep my mouth shut about it. I told him I thought the fight was awesome and we sorta became chill after that.”

YN can’t help but scoff because that’s such a Niall way to become friends with someone who was threatening him like that.

YN had so many questions rolling around, none get out before they pull into their parking spot, and Niall is getting out to usher her towards the club.

It was packed.

YN was used to going to omega and beta clubs only, no alphas allowed but this was for every secondary gender, none were excluded.

The smells were overly intense to YN’s sensitive nose, making it crinkle and wish that she had something of Harry’s to bury her nose in.

As they make their way through the crowds, YN can’t help but wish for Harry, wish to be back at their home, back in her nest surrounded by her soft, amazing smelling things.

The desire for another alpha had left her body the moment she had entered the club and saw the way the alphas were leering at her.

There was a reason she never came to these types of clubs.

Niall would be horrified and quick frankly hurt if he found out that YN was in her pre-heat, it wasn’t until now she was realizing how much she may be endangering herself.

She wanted Harry.

Even if he was mean.

Grumpy.

Only tolerating her.

He was safe.

He made her feel safe and protected.

YN was fighting down the urge to ask to go home.

She knows that Niall would take her but when she sees how happy he is, how in his element he is when a few omegas circle him, it would make her feel guilty to take him out of his already fun time.

The night goes pretty uneventful until the end, YN sat on her barstool, sipping on the same drink for the last hour.

Niall was socializing, dancing, and coming back in regularly to check on YN but he was oblivious as always to how subdued she was.

A few different people had come over to strike up conversations but they fizzled out after she realized the majority were just looking for a hookup and all she could think about was the alpha who was most likely already home by now.

YN goes to check her phone, trying to see what time it is but it’s dead.

She must have forgot to plug it in while she was getting ready but if she was to guess, it was getting into the early hours by this point.

YN hasn’t seen Niall in a few minutes and she feels like now is an appropriate time to ask for them to leave so she slides off the barstool that she had been taking residence on to find her friend in the crowd of sweaty bodies.

As she makes her way through the swarms of dancing people, someone grabs her wrist and it causes her to stumble backwards.

She assumes it’s Niall, she must have walked right past him.

But when she looks at the person who tugged her, it was an alpha.

A big, beefy alpha with a sharp, unsettling smile as he eyed her up.

He didn’t let go of her wrist and even with the mass amount of people surrounding them, she could smell how harshly he was pushing out his own scent which smelled like something akin to a musky, dampness that made her want to gag.

”Let go,” YN demands as she attempts to tug her wrist away.

”I just want to talk to you,” The alpha responds, in a fake display of playfulness as he yanks her again, bringing him even closer to his own chest.

”I said let go,” YN repeats, firmer as she tries to escape his grip, the pressure on her bone was painful and surely going to leave a bruise.

”I’m not done talking to you,” The man replies with a hint of offense, like it was absurd that YN was trying to pull out of his grip, “You shouldn’t come to these types of clubs if you’re not looking for an alpha to take you home and knot -“

YN brings her wrist up which mean his hand as well, she is in pure defense mode when she sinks her teeth into the meat of his hand which makes him jerk away with a very unalphalike yelp.

He glances down at his bloody hand with disbelief, “Did you just fucking bite me?”

YN wipes her face, she knows she has his blood on her lips from how fiercely she had sunk her teeth in, with the purpose of pain and injury.

”Whoa, whoa…” Niall’s voice comes out of no where, putting himself between the two of them, “What the fuck is going on?”

YN wants Harry.

YN wants to fucking leave.

YN wants her nest.

”Take me home,” YN says to Niall instead.

”YN, what- “ Niall tries to ask again, concern and utter confusion written over his facial features as he watches the alpha tend to his injured hand by ripping a piece of his shirt to wrap in a makeshift bandage.

”Please take me home,” YN is pleading at this point which leaves Niall’s lips in a firm line as he nods and guides her out of the club.

++

It isn’t fair by YN doesn’t talk on the way home.

She doesn’t give Niall any explanation for the events that had unfolded when he deserves it.

YN promises she’ll make it better in the morning but her omega is so incredibly unsettled and she can’t believe that she was fucking stupid enough to think that going out to a club with alphas would have made her feel differently towards Harry.

She just wants to crawl into a ball in her nest and disappear until her cycle is over.

It was getting worse, further, closer.

She had fucking bit someone like a feral fucking pup as Harry had previously called her.

Niall walks her up to her door, waits patiently as she rustles in her purse for the keys to the apartment door.

However, it isn’t necessary because before she can even find her keys, the door is swinging open, and revealing an absolute incensed, furious alpha who’s nostrils were flaring, teeth were flashing, and he looked less than a second away from ripping out Niall’s jugular vein. +_+

[reasonsforhope]

Yesterday [April 30, 2024], a bipartisan collection of US Senators introduced the Fans First Act, which would help address flaws in the current live event ticketing system by increasing transparency in ticket sales, and protecting consumers from fake or dramatically overpriced tickets.

Today, the artists and Congressmen allege, buying a ticket to a concert or sporting event requires negotiating a minefield of predatory practices, such as speculative ticket buying and the use of automated programs to buy large numbers of tickets for resale at inflated prices.

The legislation would ban such practices, and include provisions for guaranteed refunds in the event of a cancellation.

The political campaign organizers, calling themselves “Fix the Tix” write that included among the supporters of the legislation is a coalition of live event industry organizations and professionals, who have formed to advocate on behalf of concertgoers.

This includes a steering committee led by Eventbrite [Note: lol, I'm assuming Eventbrite just signed on to undermine Ticketmaster and for PR purposes] and the National Independent Value Association that’s supported by dozens of artistic unions, independent ticket sellers, and of course, over 250 artists and bands, including Billie Eilish, Dave Matthews, Cyndi Lauper, Lorde, Sia, Train, Fall Out Boy, Green Day, and hundreds more which you can read here.

“Buying a ticket to see your favorite artist or team is out of reach for too many Americans,” said Senator Amy Klobuchar (D-MN).

“Bots, hidden fees, and predatory practices are hurting consumers whether they want to catch a home game, an up-and-coming artist, or a major headliner like Taylor Swift or Bad Bunny. From ensuring fans get refunds for canceled shows to banning speculative ticket sales, this bipartisan legislation will improve the ticketing experience.”

Senators Marsha Blackburn (R-TN), Ben Ray Luján (D-NM), Roger Wicker (R-MS), John Cornyn (R-TX) and Peter Welch (D-VT) also signed on to the Fan First Act.

In the House, parallel legislation was just passed through committee 45-0.

[Note: That's a really good sign. That kind of bipartisan support is basically unheard of these days, and rare even before that. This is strong enough that it's half the reason I'm posting this article - normally I wait until bills are passed, but this plus parallel legislation with such bipartisan cosponsors in the senate makes me think there's a very real chance this will pass and become law by the end of 2024.]

“We would like to thank our colleagues, both on and off committee, for their collaboration. This bipartisan achievement is the result of months and years of hard work by Members on both sides of the aisle,” said the chairs and subchairs of the Committee on Energy and Commerce.

“Our committee will continue to lead the way on this effort as we further our work to bring this solution to the House floor.”

“The relationship between artist and fan, which forms the backbone of the entire music industry, is severed,” the artists write. “When predatory resellers scoop up face value tickets in order to resell them at inflated prices on secondary markets, artists lose the ability to connect with their fans who can’t afford to attend.”

-via Good News Network, May 1, 2024

[babbymochiiii]

🔞⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ 𝑃𝐿𝐸𝐴𝑆𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝑇 𝑀𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃 𝑌𝑂𝑈: 𝐻𝑈𝐴𝑁𝐺 𝑅𝐸𝑁𝐽𝑈𝑁

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ cyborg! renjun x afab creator! reader; please let me help you...it's what i'm meant for.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ warnings: 18+ MDNI, nipple play, self fingering, whimpery and beg-ish renjun, fast learner renjun, making out, slight oral (f), pent up frustration being taken out on reader, p in v, creampie, not proof read, etc...if i missed anything let me know pls ;P

⊹ ࣪ ˖ author's note: INSPIRED BY THE SONG THE MACHINE BY REED WONDERS & AURORA OLIVAS ( listen to it if you haven't, such a good song! ) thank you so much for 300+ follows! it means so much to see you guys wanting to keep up with my writing 🥹 as a little thank you, here is this fic for you!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ word count: 3.8k

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ m.list for more fics!

You were stressed.  

Beyond stressed at that.  

You looked towards the papers in front of you with frowned eyebrows as you mentally cursed at them for making you so stressed out. you let out a deep sigh as you ran your hands through your hair before resting your head at the crook of your arm.  

Renjun assessed you from the corner of your room as he scanned through his system trying to figure out the exact solution for him to help you. He softly called out your name, to which earned a soft hum of a response from you. 

“Do you wish for me to help you in anyway?” he asks as he looks at you with the softest expression you have ever seen him give you.  

Great. You thought. I’m being pitied by my own creation. This causes another sigh to escape your lips before you turned your head to the side to fully look towards him. “I’m okay Renjun. Just —” another sigh. “— just having a hard time trying to figure out this equation here and nothing is working.”  

Renjun frowned towards you as he knew there was something more than this and he could not pinpoint the exact reason as to why this made his chest hurt. “But —”  

“Really I'm okay, Renjun.” you said as you tried to give him the best convincing smile you could muster.  

Not fully convinced at this point, Renjun lets it go as he knew it would cause an issue with you and he did not want to see you even more stressed than you already were.  

Renjun knew why he was created by you. At least he understood why you did. You were lonely, and just wanted someone that could love you and fully understand you as the way you were without changing who you were for anyone. But he could not understand why you never used him like he was supposed to be used for. It broke his heart, well his metaphorical heart, to know that you were hesitant to do more with him as he wanted to do so much with you. He just did not want to push you.  

You always rested with Renjun by your side in bed, it was your way of making sure you got your full rest. But for some reason, tonight you were having a challenging time getting that said rest. You kept tossing and turning trying to find the most comfortable spot on your bed. A sigh escapes through your lips, and you lay your hand on your forehead as frustration crawling through your entire body.  

A thought crossed your mind that made your body flush at the thought. You turned your head to the side and were met with Renjun’s figure sleeping soundly next to you. Blessing your past self in the moment for creating the program in which he would require a certain amount of sleep to properly function. Not wanting to waste the open window you had, knowing that in an hour or two, Renjun would wake up soon as his sleep cycle would be ending.  

You started to mess with your nipples through your shirt. As you continued to tease and roll them with your thumb and pointer finger, you gently removed one hand from a nipple and used to trace down your sternum and down to your navel, creating a ticklish sensation that causes you to sigh in content. You finally reached the band of your underwear; you slowly pushed your hand underneath the waistband.  

You bring your fingertips down towards your folds. Completely passing your clit wanting to further tease yourself and moved towards your entrance where you knew you could gather enough slick to mess with your clit. Once you felt that you had gathered enough slick on your fingertips, you moved it towards your swollen hood and gently applied pressure on it. A shudder of a moan escapes your lips at the pressure you were creating as this was exactly what was going to help you sleep for the rest of the night.  

Slowly, you started to apply more pressure as you started to move your fingertips in the way you liked it so on your swollen clit. Small moans escape your lips as the sensations you were creating were descending on your legs. As you started to pick up the pace, a loud moan slipped through your mouth which caused you to cover your mouth with your free hand and quickly cast a glance towards Renjun.  

Biting your lower lip, you remove your hand from covering your mouth and bring it down towards your wet folds. You started to feel around your slicked entrance, collecting as many fluids as possible around your fingers before you slowly slipped one into your entrance.  

As you started to pump your finger inside of you, one finger became two fingers inside of you as you continued to chase after your height. The slow starting out pace you had quickly turned into a faster paced on as you started to follow the pace you had on your clit.  

So, entrapment in your blissful world of pleasure, you failed to notice how Renjun stirred a bit before waking up fully.  

Renjun felt himself blink his eyes slowly, adjusting them a bit in the dark room. His senses slowly came to him and the first thing that did was his hearing.  

He could hear the way you let out muffled moans through your mouth, the squelching sounds that came out from your entrance as you fucked yourself with your fingers.  

Could this finally be it? Renjun wondered. Can this finally be the time she uses me as she intended me for? 

Renjun tried his best not to make his presence known now as he was not sure how you would react to him waking up and just listening in on you trying to pleasure yourself.  

So, naturally he waited. 

Minutes continued to pass and Renjun continued to lay idle as he heard you pleasure yourself. He felt completely perverted knowing that he had not made his presence known to you, but he did not want you to stop because...it felt like he was the one helping you reach your peak.  

You were about to reach your height when you heard the smallest sound of a whimper. Too into pleasure you just thought it was yourself, so you just continued chasing the feeling within you. Just as you felt the feeling tighten within your core, you heard the faintest whisper of your name.  

You turned your head to the side to see a completely flustered Renjun looking at you with such doe like eyes and a deep flush on your face.  

“y/n...” he whimpered your name again in such a breathless way that it completely took you over the edge.  

Unexpectedly, you felt your core tighten completely and release in such an intense manner that it made you see stars briefly. You knew you were close to an orgasm but, seeing Renjun’s expression and the way he cried out your name was enough to set you over the edge.  

Trying your best to catch your breath, you turned your gaze to Renjun.  

“How long —” you cut yourself off as you felt your skin flush at the thought of how long he could’ve been watching you. “— how long have you been watching me?” you question as you placed your hands on your chest.  

Renjun felt his ears heat up as he avoided your gaze for a moment as he didn’t know how to put into words the feelings he felt while watching you. “N-not that long.” He said gently and watched with a calculated stare for your reaction.  

You turned to face forward to stare at the ceiling as you tried to understand the situation fully and to put all your thoughts together. You knew that Renjun would wake up at any moment the moment you started to pleasure yourself but to be fair you didn’t think it would take you that long to finish.  

All it took was to look at him and hear him say your name. That one voice spoke in the back of your mind, though as much as you wanted to be annoyed with it, you knew it was right. It was right in the way that you were scared to even admit to yourself for a while now. You knew the reason why you built Renjun, and the sole reason as to why you created him the way you did. It was to help you get through the loneliness you had but to also help you with any pent up stress that you had. And yet...you never used him in such way as you started to see him as a human being.  

Renjun did have a program where he could understand and fully act like a human being himself, but you still held back just because you weren’t sure you were the one that was ready to take it there with him.  

So caught up in your own thoughts, you almost missed the way Renjun moved closer to your side and placed a tender hand on your face and gently turning your face to where you can face him.  

“Please —” his voice breaks. “— please let me help you.” he begged you as his eyes started to water a bit.  

You were completely stunned at his reaction. You didn’t know what to say or what exactly to make of this situation but, your body had a different thing to say in the matter. Before you could even fully process what was happening, you leaned into the little bit of space that was left between the two of you. You placed a tender kiss onto Renjun’s lips to which he recuperated back. The two of you slowly explored one another's mouths, trying to figure out the pace the other wanted to place.  

Completely enamored with the taste, Renjun couldn’t help but place his hands into your hair, slightly pulling on the strands collecting the moan that rushed out of your parted lips and pulling you much closer to him. Going off of instinct alone, Renjun pulls himself up from the bed and pushes your legs open with his knee creating a space for his body.  

The moment his knee made contact with your quivering nerves, you let out a whimper into the kiss as you involuntarily rocked your hips on his knee trying to chase for that delicious sensation that was overstimulation.  

Renjun pulled away from your lips and started to place tender kisses along the column of your neck along with small bite marks in between each kiss that only elicited the prettiest moan he has heard leave your mouth this whole night so far.  

I wonder what she would sound like when I kissed between her legs... Renjun couldn’t help but wonder to himself as he started to leave open mouth kisses down your navel and on each side of your hips. The moment his lips reached your lushest thighs, he couldn’t help himself but teasingly bite them as his hands slowly made their way down. When his hands reach your thighs, he grabs a handful of the fat of the thigh that causes a whimper to escape your lips as you prompt your elbows up to take a look at him from your hooded eye lids.  

“W-what are you doing?” you asked out of breath as you felt your heart hammer even harder in its place in your chest.  

“I wanna taste you...” Renjun muttered as he placed a small kiss on your clothed clit.  

Before you could say anything to Renjun, he pulled your panties to the side and kitten licked your sensitive nub. Not being enough for him, he licks a strip from your entrance up to your clit with the fat of his tongue.  

The sensation of Renjun just licking up and between your folds was enough to send your toes curling and your eyes to turn to the back of your skull. He continued licking and sucking your folds as his goal was to suck out as much of those delicious moans out of you as he can.  

Remembering the movements you did on yourself you reach your own high earlier, Renjun softly placed the pad of his fingers on your entrance as he only wanted to gather up as much slick and spit as he could before he pressed his slicked-covered fingers onto your clit.  

This draws out a high pitched moan from you as he started to create tight, small circles on your clit. At this point you were a panting mess as you wondered how he knew your body so well. 

“H-how —” you cut yourself off as you felt his tongue start to gather up as much of your sweetened slick as he could on his tongue.  

“I’m just applying the things I've seen you do on yourself.” Renjun answered between licks as he couldn’t get enough of your taste.  

As he continued, you felt your stomach tighten as he started to flick your clit. “P-please not like this —” you cried out as you arched your back off of the bed.  

Renjun stopped all motions and looked at you for a moment. “Do you want me inside of you?” He gently asks as he starts to sit on his knees, waiting for your answer.  

You nodded your head as you hurriedly answered him. “Yes! Y-yes please I want to finish on your cock.” you said as you looked at him with such a deep and pretty flush on your face, only making him lose his composure even more.  

Without answering you, Renjun rushes to lean into you for another heated kiss as you opened your legs wide for him to be able to insert himself between your legs. As the two of you fought for the little bit of dominance in the kiss, you started to push down at the sweats that laid on his hips with your feet as you felt yourself growing desperate for not having him inside of you. The same was being done with you, Renjun took hold of your panties into his hands and just ripped them in half as he didn’t want to wait any longer as well.  

Once you were both successfully naked on your bottom halves, you both pulled away from the kiss and looked down towards where Renjun’s cock was resting painfully hard on your thigh.  

Oh... you knew that Renjun was packing, for God’s sake you were the one that designed it for him. But seeing it for the first time in such way...it was making your mouth water at the pretty sight before you.  

Renjun was on the thick side of the things, with the prettiest shade of pink for his tip. A couple of throbbing veins adorned the side of his cock that you were just dying to feel inside of you.  

Before you could say anything to him, Renjun took hold of the base of his cock and guided it to between your folds to gather up as much slick as he could. Feeling like he needed his dick a bit more wet, he spat on himself, and your glistening folds a couple times to where he gave a content smile. He then guided his tip towards your awaiting entrance.  

Renjun started to slowly push his fat tip into your tight entrance that caused for a groan to leave his lips and for a moan to leave yours. He continued to push himself inch by inch until he was fully seethed inside of you.   

You knew Renjun wasn’t moving as he was letting you adjust to his size considering he didn’t fully prep you for his size, but how could think about him adjusting when you needed him to start moving or you thought you were going to go crazy at the stillness.  

“Renjun...s-so full.” you whimpered as you placed your hands on his shoulders and lightly dug your finger nails into them creating half-moon indents. 

He slowly started to glide against your gummy walls, and you swore you felt one of his veins thump violently inside of you. Renjun swore under his breath as he tried to hold in his load as he didn’t want to ejaculate prematurely just because of how your warmth was consuming him whole.  

You watched the way Renjun couldn’t take his eyes off of where the two of you became one. You watched the way his eyebrows frowned in pleasure as small pants started to come out of his mouth. Renjun’s gaze switched up to you to see how you were handling everything, and he swore he felt something within him snap at the look of ecstasy on your face.  

Without much warning to you, Renjun pulled out almost completely just leaving his tip inside of you and thrusted fully in one go. This caused you to arch you back off of the bed with a squeal.  

“S-sorry! Did I hurt you?” Renjun panicked as he completely stayed still inside of you as he wasn’t sure how to take your reaction.  

“N-no just — ah! — just felt so good.” you moaned out as you felt Renjun’s tip nudge slightly at your cervix.  

“Oh...” he muttered quietly as he looked down at where the two of you connected once again before he started to create a fast pace.  

Short, quick pants leave your lips as you tried to keep up with the fast pace Renjun was going at now. You felt more of your wetness sleek out of you as you watched the way he was completely zooned onto your stomach as he watched the way each time, he pounded in he could see a slight bulge through your stomach.  

You went to say something to him when he suddenly started to pick up an even faster pace and was hitting that spot within you that you yourself couldn't even get to.  

“F-fuck — mmgh! —  you feel so good.” Renjun grunted out as he took hold of your legs and pulled them over his shoulders, putting you into such a mean mating press.  

“Junie!” you cried out as you felt him go into a deeper angle inside of you.  

“Made me wait for so long for you to use me the way I was intended to.” he said as he pushed your thighs down further against your chest.  

“Had to fucking watch you fuck yourself with your fingers for you to even let me fuck you.” he grunted between each thrust as he pushed down on your hips, so you wouldn’t move an inch as he continued his ruthless pace on your wet cunt.  

At this point you were a complete squelching mess as Renjun kept fucking into you relentlessly. You felt your mouth fall open as silent moans fall through your lips as he continued to hit your g-spot with such precise hits.  

“Did you enjoy the fact that I was watching you the whole time baby, hmm?” he teased as he pressed down on your neglected clit causing you to arch your back as much as you could off of the bed. “Tell me baby, did you?”  

You felt your head move up and down numbly as you felt yourself getting completely dumb on his delicious cock. Renjun took hold of your face and squished your cheeks together in such a degrading way that you felt yourself clenching, causing Renjun to falter a bit at the sensation.  

“Use your words when I’m talking to you.” Renjun said as he leaned his face down to where your lips grazed one another.  

A breathless moan leaves your squished lips as you nodded your head which quickly followed a squealing response; “Y-yes!”  

“Such a good girl.” Renjun groaned out as he placed his lips on yours as he let his hand go from your face as it loosely wrapped around your neck.  

As the of you made out, Renjun created faster and tighter circles against your clit making you whimper into the kiss that he swallowed as your tongues glided against one another. Your felt your core starting to tighten signaling that you were close to your second release of the night.  

“I’m — ngh! Ah! — I'm close!” you moaned out once Renjun moved away from your lips to lean down and place love marks on your breasts before he started to lap his tongue against your sensitive nipples.  

Renjun knew you were close to the way your velvety walls start to contract against his cock in such a delicious grip that he was so close to blowing his load inside of you completely.  

“Can feel you clenching so tightly around me baby...” Renjun said as he felt his thrusts become staggering and somewhat sloppy as he knew he was also close.  

“Junie please, please, please come with me!” you whined out as you started to feel the tightening sensation become too much causing for tears to brim against your water line.  

“Fuck baby.” Renjun moaned out as he started losing all resolve in holding out as much as he could.  

With a small whimper, Renjun looked into your eyes, and you too saw tears brimming at his water lines as the sensation of cumming was all but new to him. You took hold of his face in your hands as you knew he was having a hard time letting go.  

“Come with me baby.” you whispered gently between the two of you.  

With one last hard thrust, he came with a mix of a whimper and grunt as the gentle, fucked out expression and words you were giving him was just the right push he needed.  

As you felt ropes of his cum start to paint the inside of your walls, it was what you just needed as your core tightened completely before releasing in such an Earth shattering orgasm.  

You felt Renjun start to soften inside you as you both tried to catch your breath. Renjun placed his forehead against yours as the two of you basked in your post-sex glow. Slowly, Renjun removed himself from inside of you with a low hiss before he laid by your side and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.  

He gently moved the strands of your hair that stuck onto your sweaty forehead out of way, he started to place gentle kisses along your face before he landed on your lips, kissing you gently.  

“Don’t do that to me ever again please.” Renjun whispered against your lips.  

“I promise baby.” You whispered back to him with a small kiss.  

Renjun leaned down and connected your lips into another gentle kiss, sealing the promise between the two of you as he held onto you tightly by his side.  

a/n: thank you for reading and thank you again for 300+ follows!

[lucrativesoul]

Roadstop

summary: your car breaks down on a deserted road at midnight. you have no signal, it’s getting colder, and you are five miles away from help; you’re stranded. a stranger offers his help to you, and you find a way to pass the time.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

warnings: smut, oral (male recieving), bondage (very softcore), don’t trust strangers this much

a/n: i kind of hate this title and i also don’t love this one but I hope i made it work. going to immediately start one that i’m actually into. this one’s shorter than the last one, but they might all fall around the same word count from now on. again, i can’t stress how thankful i am for the love on ‘the assistant’ as well as my headcanon blurbs, 900+ notes on the fic and 300+ on the headcanons, you guys are too nice. i can’t wait to come back soon with the next fic! enjoy :3

You thought back for a brief second, clearing your head as best you could to gauge your current situation.

In the backseat of a tinted SUV, you were straddled over a thick set of thighs, that of which belonged to a man twice your build, who was bound at the wrists in front of him. The waistband of his jeans were dangerously low and his shirt was somewhere in the front seat. His breathing was shaky and he was looking at you with hooded eyelids, loving every moment of this situation.

What was the catalyst to this exact interaction? Let’s see…

–

Earlier

As badly as you wanted to scream, to cry, to blame everyone else but yourself, this was all on you, and you knew it. There were plenty of ways to avoid this situation.

Your car was toast. Literally. The steam was coming out in soft puffs, and you were thanking every deity up there that it was only steam and not smoke, because it was dead winter, too cold for even snow to fall, and you did not want to get out of your car. How can a car even overheat in 10 degree weather?

The road trip back home was close to three hours and you were nearing the second one when a light started flashing on your dashboard. Inclined to ignore it, but knowing the risks of doing so, you pulled over, hoping for a brief stop. 

The road was dark. It made you a little cautious to step out, but this wasn't a common place for people to pull over, but you were unsure if you could make it the next five miles to the rest stop. It was only a two lane road, trees on both sides of you. The worst, you decided, was a deer deciding to dash out and body slam you. You should move quick enough to avoid that.

Looking behind to make sure no one was suddenly driving by, you briskly opened your door and walked to the front of the car. Finding the latch and pulling it aside, you lifted the hood, and a puff of metallic smelling steam hit your face. You backed up, letting it clear, before going in again. Well, you observed, the engine is definitely still there.

Shutting it and shuffling back to your car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Should you call a tow service? You didn't know where you were. Should you call the police? They would probably tell you to call the non-emergency line and then tell you to call a tow service. Should you call your friend? She would probably call you stupid, then tell you to call a tow service. That one was the most comfortable, though.

It was, after all, her fault you were here. It’s easy enough to cast the blame on the friend that moved this far away that you had to plan out a whole weekend just to hang out. But, once again, it was on you for deciding to leave this late.

She answered after one ring. “Hey, I’m in trouble.”

“Of course you are. What happened now?” She didn’t sound incredibly concerned.

“I don’t know. I think my car’s overheating. I’m scared to keep driving it.”

She gasped. “It’s only been like… an hour and a half? You’re probably in the woods.”

“If darkness and trees means woods then yes, that’s precisely where I am.”

“You need to get a tow, or something.” Knew it. “Do you see mile markers?”

You leaned forward in your seat, straining to see something that isn’t there. “No, I can’t see. I don't remember passing any either. I’m a few miles away from a rest stop, but, I really don’t–”

Dial tone.

Pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, you wanted to scream even more now. “Fuck!” You shouted out to nobody. No service. You wasted your last few moments of contact, and now you had nothing.

You sat for a moment, stilling your beating heart and trying to think rationally. Walking was out of the question. You nearly froze just going to open the hood. You could wait for service to come back, probably in waves, you might lose a call again. It was the only choice. The call to 911 would be quick, and if you lost service, they would know where you are from pinging you, and if they couldn’t reach you again, they would come find you. It was the best you could hope for. 

Settling back into your seat, the last few wisps of orange light disappearing behind the trees, you were ready to wait. 

–

You dragged your hands up and down the man’s torso, watching his muscles constrict and hearing delicious whines pour from his lips. He threw his head back onto the seat behind him, unable to look away from your body for even a second, even to blink. You could see the way his jaw tensed and relaxed, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he obeyed you, and he didn’t say a word.

You knew he was staring at the way your body curved and dipped, the way your frame was visible as you had also taken your shirt off, left in only a bra and the jacket that he had put on over you. He was probably ready to cum untouched at just the idea of you wearing his jacket alone, nevermind with nothing on underneath. 

Your fingers teased at the waistband of his pants, flitting your fingertips back and forth over the button of his jeans. You could see the way his erection was pressing hard through them, twitching ever so often as you kept your eyes on him. You, yourself, were desperate to pull it out and put your mouth on it, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“It’s tempting,” You whispered into the space between you two. “I want to take it right now,” He strained again, both his hard cock and his upper body, his arms slightly tugging at the restraints. “But I need you to beg for it…” You palmed his dick hard, and his lips parted in a moan. The sound made you even wetter than you already were. His hips bucked upward, moving the both of you, but with one steady hand to the chest, he was still. 

You knew well enough that he could bust out of the restraints at any second, he was strong enough to do that and probably tie you up even more securely than you had tied him. But, the mere idea that he was sitting there, being a good boy for you and letting you have him as he was, well, that idea alone had you foaming at the mouth, wanting to take control of him.

This wasn’t the first time you were making someone sit still and be a good boy for you, but it was the first time that a man had you dizzy trying to enforce those rules in the first place.

“Tell me,” You spoke, a sultry look in your eyes, you leaned in just a tad to get in his face. “Do you need it?”

He sighed out as if he had been holding his breath. “Yes, please, I need it so bad…” He nearly tripped over his words trying to force them out, showing you how bad he needed you to touch him, to suck him off, to ride him. Yes, you needed it to, but you couldn’t give it to him without a little bit of teasing involved.

“Do you now…” Your hands wandered up his torso again, fingers gently wrapping around the base of his neck, now even squeezing, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. You peeled your hands off, tracing his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and settled your hands over his. “If you keep being good, you can be released and touch me.” You felt his muscles strain again. “Not yet, though.”

He swallowed with the implication. Moving your hips forward, you grinded down onto him, making him screw his eyes shut and groan. Your own heartbeat quickened at the action, and for your own sake as well, you were going to need to speed this up. 

You leaned forward once more, mouth next to his ear, lips ghosting around the shell. “You’ll be my good boy and let me suck it, won’t you?”

A shrill whine, then, “Yes, yes, I’ll be your good boy, I promise, please, you can suck it. Please,” His voice was cutting in and out between a whisper and its full depth, you could tell he was worked up, and while you loved the chase of it all, you couldn’t help but to give in and treat yourself, as well. 

Your hands fell to his jeans again, hovering over the button. You pressed a kiss into his jawline. “Good boy.”

–

Earlier

This was much more boring than you anticipated. You wanted to scroll through your phone so badly, but you knew you needed to conserve battery. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in your car, merely your overnight bag in the back with your clothes in it, your laptop buried at the bottom for work, and your water bottle which was almost empty now. You kept checking every 5 minutes for a service signal, watching as the percent in the corner slowly ticked down.

It was growing colder by the minute in your car, and you had a blanket over your lap trying to conserve what you could. You felt like you were trapped in the wild, stranded with no food, no communication, when realistically you were only a hair outside of the nearest civilization.

No one had driven by yet. It was odd for no one to be taking this road at this time, at least one or two people would be coming by, maybe even a freight truck, but so as your luck worked out, there was not a soul tonight. 

You were getting tired now, but your nerves were too lit up to allow yourself to fall asleep. Resting your head back against the car seat, staring out into darkness, your mind began to wander.

How many deer were out in these woods right now? Probably none, with the way your eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, you could spot one a mile away. It would be the only movement. What was your friend doing? Was she still trying to call you? Clearly she hadn’t called anyone for help, as it’s been a rough 30 minutes since you lost service, and the nearest city was just outside of where you sat. They would have gotten there in 15 max. Was it possible to freeze to death in just a few hours within the confines of your car, even though you were nowhere near that point yet?

Just then, your head shot forward as you spotted light behind you. Finally, a person! You straightened out and pulled the blanket off of you, debating if you should step out or not. That would definitely get their attention, but what if they were in the right lane and they hit you? Surely there would be no point in waiting for signal after that.

You didn’t even need to make a decision, as you put your hand on the door handle to step out into the brisk air, the headlights suddenly swerved and became aligned with you. They grew bigger and bigger, you were sure they were going to hit you, but they stopped.

You stared, scared, but knew this was your only shot at help. You stepped out.

The car that pulled up behind you stayed running, lights still shining, and you squinted to see past them. It looked like an SUV, much bigger than your own sedan, and could definitely do this drive without overheating no problem.

The driver’s side door opened, but you only saw the silhouette of it, still trying to block the headlights. You lifted your hand to your eyes to do so, and you saw a man get out. Ideally, for safety, you would have wanted a woman, but you couldn’t be picky when this was the first person you saw for almost an hour.

He walked over to you, and placed himself in front of the headlight so you could see him. Now, backlit, you could see the bulky build of a man, donned in a leather jacket with a fur collar, long hair falling down to his cheekbones, his breaths rolling off in slow puffs. He stood a good distance away from you, probably aware of how you might be feeling in this situation.

“You need help?” No shit, you wanted to answer, but couldn’t choke the words up. 

“Uh, yeah, I got stuck.” You turned briefly to look at the car. “It overheated. I lost signal to call for help.” 

The man nodded, walking around you and over to the hood of your car. He bent over and lifted it, messing around in there for a few seconds. You took one step closer to him, hugging yourself for warmth, now missing the inside of your car.

He shut it suddenly and walked back over. “You probably just have no antifreeze left. I don’t have any in my car, though. Do you know if you happen to have any?”

You stood staring at him for another second. “I’m gonna guess no, considering I’m not totally sure what you mean.” You could see him clearly now, standing in front of his headlights. His face was covered in dark shadows from his hair and the contours of his face, his deep brow casting darkness into his eyes, but you could still see they were blue. He had on a dark t-shirt, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination to picture the figure underneath. You met his eyes again.

He just nodded. “That’s alright. Not something you tend to prepare for.” He walked closer to you, but you stood your ground and let him approach you. “Want to come down the road with me to get some? There’s a 24/7 convenience just a few miles away. I can have you out of here within the hour.” You said nothing. You weren’t sure if you entirely wanted to do that, but you also didn’t want him to not come back at all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he stuck his hand out towards you. “Leon Kennedy. I work for the state. I’m on the way home from a detail.”

You slowly extended your own hand, telling him your name. His hand was warm. You didn’t want to let go. “Detail? Are you a cop?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I don’t want to leave you here. You should warm up.” You looked back at his car, still running, positive that the heat was blasting, and you gave in.

“Okay. But don’t think about trying anything. I can put up a hell of a fight, you know.” 

He laughed. “You have my word.”

You walked around to the passengers side and hopped in, hoisting yourself up into the surprisingly high cabin. You looked at the dash as he settled in, getting comfortable with the space. This was a much newer car than you were used to. 

His phone was connected to the bluetooth, music rumbling quietly out of the speakers. Deftones. Maybe I can trust him for now.

You subconsciously settled into the seat, the warmth enveloping you. The ride was much smoother than your own car, and you knew you weren’t going to stop the comparisons until this experience was over. You kept an eye to the left of you, still needing to be alert, you were in a stranger's car after all, even though you knew his name and job, that didn’t mean anything.

You saw him sneak a glance over at you, and you shot your eyes back down to the display on the dashboard. 

“You like them?” He hit a button on the steering wheel and turned the volume up a few notches. You could still hear him clearly. 

“Of course.” You let the silence hang for a second. Testing the waters, “If it was country, I might have had to pull a tuck and roll.”

He barked another laugh. At least he wasn’t stoic. “You’re lucky you didn’t catch me on a Wednesday, then.” You giggled. After saying nothing else, he continued. “What brought you to this position anyways?”

You sighed. “One of my good friends lives out here, about an hour away or so. I was on my way home. I know I shouldn’t have left this late, but in my defense, I didn;t know my car was going to overheat, so…” 

He hummed. “That’s not your fault. It happens. Can’t prepare for those things, again.”

You looked out the window to the pitch black nothingness as you rode past. You looked back over at him, he had his right forearm on the console while his left hand steered. “You seemed too prepared to stop, though. What if I killed you?”

His mouth quirked, and you couldn’t help but repeat it. “I could handle it if you tried to.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I could have surprised you. I’m stronger than I look. Men love to doubt the ones that are smaller than them.”

The smile on his face didn’t falter. “And what are you capable of against a man like me, then?” 

“I don’t think you want to find out. I’m dominating, you know.” Wait… what? You truly didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you couldn’t suck the words back up. You just furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself, and blamed the lack of sleep, the cold, your aggravation, whatever you could. Regardless of the words you couldn’t take back, Leon didn’t stop smiling. He turned his head a degree in your direction, and you could still see him out of your peripheral. 

A few minutes later, the convenience came into view and he pulled into the lot. You squinted at the bright lights of the parking lot. 

“Hang tight, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You only nodded, watching him stalk away into the building. You decided, seeing his full body in the lights, if you had met him under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t peg him as the helpful type of guy. His gait was strong, like it said Don’t fuck with me, or else. It almost made you giddy, knowing that you were the one being helped when he wouldn’t have otherwise. Like, in a romance book, when the bad boy doesn’t like anyone, but likes you. 

It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had thought it would be. Maybe he was lightening up his personality so he wouldn’t scare you on purpose. If he really was just a helpful guy, the last thing he would want is to scare a young girl in the middle of nowhere at midnight. 

You were getting comfortable in the seat now, the heat wrapping around you, making you dread having to go back out into your cold car. You sighed even harder when you remembered that you still had a long ride to go before you could even go to bed.

Leon walked out of the store and back to the car, bottle of antifreeze in hand, and you tensed up when the cold air hit your skin as he opened the door.

He watched you as he lowered himself into the seat. “I didn’t mean it literally. You could have moved.” 

You shrugged with a smile as he closed the door again. “I didn’t need to.”

After a few minutes of chatting and listening to music, you arrived back at your car after needing to loop around to get back onto the right side of the road. You sighed and hit your head back against the seat of the car.

“What’s the sigh for? You get to go now.” Leon unblocked his seatbelt and took the bottle from where he left it on the console.

“Yeah, but it’s cold. I don’t want to get out.”

Leon grinned softly. “So don’t. I’ll be right back.” 

You sat and soaked up the heat while he went back over to your car, popped the hood, and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. You could only wonder how cold he must have been right now. Probably not very, maybe only his hands and neck, that jacket looks warm enough. You were stupid to only put a zip up on.

You looked down at your lap, then your gaze wandered to the interior of the car. It was very clean here. Leon did seem like the type to want to take care of his vehicle, and you were afraid to make any sort of move in case you put dirt on anything.

The backseat was empty, not even an extra piece of clothing (which there was plenty of in your own backseat), and you wondered how it was even possible for someone to be this neat.

You looked back through the windshield to see that Leon was still working in your hood. Your eyes fell lower to the glove compartment.

Realistically, this wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do right now, since you didn’t know Leon, and you could pass it off by wanting to assure yourself that you were safe, but at the same time, you felt guilty even thinking about it, since Leon had been nothing but nice to you so far. He trusted you enough to leave you alone in his pristine car while he helped you out.

That alone made you shift your gaze back up, pushed the thought of snooping down, and settled in to see Leon walking back to his car.

“Alright, you should be all set now. Hopefully it doesn’t happen again for another long while.” He shut the door next to him, and you gazed out at your car, making no moves. 

“How much?” You rolled your head over to look at him.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brow. 

“The antifreeze. How much was it?”

He breathed out a laugh, not moving much. “I don’t want your money.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t need to do this for me, this is the least I could do for your help.”

Leon simply looked at you. “I stopped because I wanted to help. I don’t want your money.”

You stared at him. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile was gracing his features. He was lit up from the light of his display screen, still softly playing Deftones. You could see the texture of his face, his lips, his hair. He was unmoving under the scrutiny of your gaze; yet so were you. 

“I can put up a fight. I’ll make you take it.”

His smile grew. “So the legend goes, as you’ve told me.” He moved his right arm to come back and rest on the console in between you two. “I’m not going to accept it, though.”

“So, what? Am I gonna have to force you to take it? Cause I’m not leaving until you do.” You settled right back into the seat. Leon kept smiling at you. “I’m defiant. And I’ll get my way. If I have to slap you around to take it.” Leon hummed and quirked an eyebrow at your words. It only added fuel to your confidence fire. “Even if I have to tie you down to prevent you from fighting.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, showing you meant business, but he remained still. “Is that so?” You nodded. You saw him tighten his grip around the steering wheel, but the action didn’t frighten you. You could hear in his tone that he was mostly relaxed. You almost felt bad for being like this– it was late at night and he, too, was on his way home, but you simply couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.

“Open that.” His voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, but his voice deep. You met his eyes to see where he was looking, which was in the direction of the glove compartment. See, you told yourself, good karma can aid curiosity. You looked at it and hesitated a moment, trying to scan your brain as quickly as possible to see if this would be a trick. After a few seconds, when you thought of nothing, you reached over.

Tumbling forward as soon as you swung the compartment open was a small black bag, maybe about the size of a water bottle. It stopped on the door itself, and you made no move to grab it. You simply looked over at Leon.

He was watching you intensely, his smile had disappeared, but his look was not stern or angry. It made your stomach twist with… something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell. You slowly swung your gaze back over to it.

“I hope those weren’t empty threats you were throwing at me.” You kept your eyes on the bag, but the pieces started falling in place around you. In a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear, Leon said, “Can’t you show me what you are capable of?”

Ice and fire ran through your veins simultaneously as you reached out to grab the bag, noticing upon touching it that it was smooth, silky. Holding it in your hands, you rotated it to find the opening. You could feel Leon staring at you. 

Finding the opening and flipping it downwards, you held onto the bag as you dumped the contents into your hands. A tightly wound bundle of black rope fell out.

You couldn’t form words for a minute, struggling to find air in your lungs. The rope was just as soft as the bag was, and you knew exactly why, exactly what the use intended for this was. You turned your head slowly to look over at Leon again. His head had rolled back to rest on the back of the car seat, but his gaze never left yours.

You found the energy to speak. “You come prepared for these types of situations?”

A slow smile blossomed on his features again. “I don’t usually need it. I guess, I never find myself wanting to use it.” He turned his head, looking back at the dash now, almost embarrassed at his words. A smirk was fighting its way through on your features. He licked his lips, then turned back to you. “I think now… maybe I do.”

You breathed a laugh, and turned the bundle over in your hands. “How am I going to hold up to my word if you want to use this on me?”

Leon leaned forward just a tad, looking you deep in the eyes. The blue light coming off of the digital display screen lit up his face, and though color was distorted, his cheeks had more hue to them. 

“I don’t want to tie you up…” You tilted your head up at the sudden realization. You held eye contact. 

“A big man like you? I didn’t imagine you’d be wanting me to do that to you…” You spoke slowly, not trying to give the impression that you were against the idea. Because, truly, you weren’t, at all. The idea of having him bound for you made your lungs cut the air supply short and had your knees weak. The power you felt sitting in this seat was immeasurable, hearing that the man who was twice your size wanted you to remove his sense of control, well, it had you thrumming with anticipation.

Leon huffed a laugh. He looked down, obviously slightly ashamed at having admitted this. “Well, you haven’t had much time to get to know me.”

You shifted in your seat, turning to him, bending slightly to get him to look into your eyes again. “So tell me, then. I have the time to listen.” 

He attempted a shrug, and leaned back at the same time so you could see his face clearer now. Some of his hair was covering his eyes, but you left it, though you did think about moving it for him. “I’m 27, I used to be a cop, still affiliated though, I do some late night stuff at the station…” He looked over. “I did just want to help you. Even if there was no one in the car, I probably would have stopped anyway.” You nodded, listening to every word. “I…” He trailed off, looking for the words to say. “I don’t… do much else. I’m not that interesting.”

“You have no girlfriend or wife?” You whispered, and though you knew, hoped, the answer would be no, you wanted to know why he thought the answer was no.

He shook his head, as predicted. “I don’t seem to have luck.” He laughed lowly, almost in a self-deprecating manor.

“Well, I hope this isn’t always how you try to pick up women, it’s kind of scary, you know.” You laughed, and he smiled with you.

“I never particularly bothered to go looking. I just figured they would come around.”

“You can’t always bet on fate like that, it might not get you anywhere.” You shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow. “It did tonight, though.”

You nodded, seeing the irony in the night. After a second of silence, you slightly shifted your position again. “So, now what? A man like you has me in your car, holding rope, that you already had in here, by the way, and you’re telling me you want me to use it to show you what I’m capable of.”

He shrugged and leaned back, breaking eye contact for a moment. A small smile played on his lips. “Well…” He sighed. “I think it will keep you warmer than you would be in your car.”

The two of you migrated to the backseat without another word. Something shifted in the air, some silent agreement had settled in between you two, and the moment the doors shut behind you, mouths on one another, heat rising, hands slithering in between, leaving no inch of skin left untouched. Leon was quick to snake his warm hands up your shirt and hike it over your head, but you let him, followed quickly by his own. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss became sloppy, greedy, you would have succumbed to it then and there if there wasn’t a promise to uphold.

You raked your hand through his hair, soft as silk, and gripped at the base of his head, making him moan into the kiss. The hand he placed on your waist gripped the flesh, and with one swift movement, you swung your leg over his to straddle him. It was already like he was at your mercy before you even took anything away from him, and it only made him look all the more desperate for you.

The kiss broke, and for a second the two of you were just staring at each other. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, which you had discovered with your hands before even seeing it, that it was incredibly toned, and you almost didn’t even want to stop touching him. HIs hands rested on your hips, holding you in place on top of him, eyes full of lust.

He shook his head slowly, forming a thought. “Are you sure you weren’t in charge of fate to make me find you tonight?”

You grinned, running your hands up his torso, you just couldn’t stop yourself. “If I was, don’t you think I would have made it a little more convenient for us?”

He sighed at your touch, head rolling backwards, closing his eyes. After a low hum of satisfaction, he replied. “I guess so… What about fate the second time around?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the texture underneath your palms, all of the skin and bone and muscle. You pushed yourself down into his lap, already feeling his hardening dick through his jeans, making him groan louder, and you sigh in relief.

“We haven’t even gotten started and you are already thinking of round two…” You leaned in, teasing a breath along his neck, then gently licking on his jawline. The skin of your stomach felt the heat that he was producing, and you pressed your bodies together, the contact feeling like bliss.

“I already know I’ll need you again.” He said in a whisper, and the sheer intensity that it caused within you made you lean in and bite the tender skin under his jaw, and he moaned, gripping your waist even tighter.

Your hands kept running along his skin, desperate to get even more contact between you two. Your mind was getting foggy with desire, needing to be as close to Leon as possible, as much as the small space in his backseat would allow. His fingers were starting to dip below the waistline of your pants, and while you almost let him slide them past, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled it out, remembering the reason you were in the backseat in the first place.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…” You mumbled into his ear, where you were still pressed up against him. You heard him sigh, as well as felt it, and finally pushed yourself off of him.

He looked up at you from under his half-lidded eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, then. I’ll do anything.” His voice was breathy and low, and his hands came down to rest on the top of your thigh. You sat up as straight as you could, feeling all of the control get handed over to you in that one second. Involuntarily, a chill ran through your body. Cold air had hit your heated skin as you parted, as well as the added sensations that Leon was contributing to. He pushed himself up, leaned past you to the front seat, one hand steadying you on your lower back. When he fell back, he put the shoulders of his jacket over you.

He sighed as he leaned back, examining your frame as it rested over him, straightening your posture as the warmth fell around you. “Looks better on you anyway…” 

You stared at him for another moment before your brain kicked into action. “Hold your hands out,” You whispered, and he obeyed. You reached behind you and grabbed the bundle of rope. “You’ll behave if I tie you up like this?” 

“Yes…” He breathed out, watching your hands as they wrapped and knotted the rope around his wrists, not too tight, but he couldn’t slip out of it too easily. You felt a surge of confidence at the mere premonition of you tying up a huge, muscled man, submitting to your dominance. You felt heat pool in between your legs as his head fell back, his chest flexed, and the feeling of his hard cock poking you through his pants. You were suddenly glad your car gave out on you on this random night.

This brings you to your current position. Everything playing an equal hand in getting this man in his own backseat underneath you, staring up with sinful eyes. You weren’t sure what to do first, you wanted to do everything to this man, and let him do everything to you. 

He had already professed his need for you to take him in your mouth, and you were itching to keep teasing him, but as a reward for not leaving you stranded, you were going to play nice with him.

HIs breathing was ragged and his eyes were locked on you, not daring to look away as your hands snaked closer and closer to the button on his jeans. Your fingers flitted over the tent in his pants, the sensation barely registering with him, and he bucked his hips up, but you pressed them back down by his hips. 

“Patience… patience baby…” You murmured, not looking up from where your hands were dancing around letting him loose. He whined, and the sound traveled straight to your core, making you all the more desperate. As a second reward for obeying your command, you pressed your palm fully into his hardened cock, and he groaned and threw his head back. You smirked in response, now needing the skin on skin contact. 

Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and he lifted his hips when you pulled down his waistband of both his jeans and underwear. His erection sprang out, slapping his toned stomach, and you felt saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth, slick gathering in between your legs, and Leon was almost shaking with anticipation.

You wrapped a delicate hand around his dick and he whined again, his chest shuddering with shallow breaths, sighing out profanities at the contact. He was so warm and hard in your hand, and even just the ginger strokes you were delivering had him crumbling under you.

The other hand that wasn't wrapped around him came up to brace yourself on his chest, and his skin matched the temperature of his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking profusely, and you brought your thumb up to press through it and spread it, which elicited another whimper from within him. The friction was dry, and you were sure it didn't feel the best for Leon, but there were no signs of pain in his expression, and if you kept this up long enough, he might cum from this alone. 

He was of average length, but you were never one to complain, especially not in a situation like this, and it was a benefit when the attempt to deepthroat him came along, knowing it would make it easier. You couldn’t wait any longer, and even though watching him writhe under you was more pleasure than you expected, you needed more.

You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You made a brief note of how hot it was in the car now, probably all from him, and though it was completely dark outside, you were sure the windows were foggy. He sighed at your lips on his skin. 

“Thank you for being so good to me,” You spoke softly to him, and you lifted your head to press your lips together, which he hungrily accepted. Your body fell forward slightly, your hand still balancing on his hard chest, and you could feel his arms in between the both of you, but he was not protesting. 

You pulled away, but hovered over his face and pressed your foreheads together. He whispered, “Need you so bad…” heavily breathing onto your lips. You grinned, seeing he was quickly reaching the brink of his patience. 

“I got you baby,” Another quick kiss, but you pulled away before he could deepen it. “You’re being a good boy for me.” He quietly moaned at the praise, and let you remove yourself from on top of him. You hopped off his lap and sunk to your knees in between his legs, looking up once last time to see his pretty face before ducking your head, and licking a thick stripe up the length of his cock. 

His groan was louder than it had been before, and you felt his whole body shudder with his breaths. The saliva that had been gathering in your mouth coated him easily, and when your tongue met the tip, with a swipe to collect the precum (which resulted in another sharp whine), you let all of your spit pour over your lips and leak down the sides, which you hastily swept up with your hand, and continued to pump his dick with. 

Every breath that he released was paired with some sort of noise, whether it be a groan, a whine, a whimper, anything that you were doing to him right now was causing him to quickly become unwound, and just seeing him fall apart under your hands was causing your strokes to become harder, quicker, and you stopped refusing him to buck his hips in your hand because you loved seeing how desperate he was becoming. You could see the veins in his forearms and biceps, the flexing of his arms against the rope around his wrists, and it made you weaker to know he was the only person keeping him within those restraints, and he could flip the power dynamic at any moment if he wanted to. But, he didn’t, and he let himself be dominated.

With another lick from base to tip, your lips closed over his head, our tongue dipped and swirled around the soft skin, the tangy salt of his precum coating your tastebuds, and at once, you took his entirety into your mouth. A rough gasp came from Leon as you swallowed him whole, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling every ridge and bump. Your hand continued to work below where you could reach, giving gentle squeezes, and your other hand occasionally worked his balls, causing him to throw his head back every few seconds.

You were reveling in his taste at this moment, every bead of precum that spurted out of his tip was lapped up instantly, mixing in with your spit as you took him in your mouth, your tongue studying and memorizing his shape and size. You sucked him down like it was your last moment to ever be with him, hoping you would be able to find yourself in this position with him again. 

“Fuck… fuck, you feel so good…” Leon couldn’t contain the words spilling out of his mouth, he was losing sanity it seemed with every movement you made with your tongue, every stroke your hand delivered, and every time you opened your throat to shove him as far back as you could. He would whimper every time you stifled a gag at trying to deepthroat his length, loving the way you worked past pain just to have more of him. 

You could feel so much heat and wetness within yourself, and as much as you wanted to relieve your own pressure, you knew you wouldn't be done with Leon after you made him cum.

After another hit to the back of the throat with his tip, you heard him whine out, “I’m so… I’m so close, fuck–” paired with more gasps and whimpers. His fists were balled up so tight, the rope was straining against his flexing, and his mouth hung open as he watched you take him all. 

Your hand that wasn’t on his cock was gripping his thick thigh, feeling it twitch underneath your palm. You gripped it tighter, deciding against an urge to want to edge him, not able to fight your own need to taste him. 

After another lick, you released him from your mouth and resorted to stroking him so you could talk and breathe for a moment. “How close are you, baby?” Your breathing was heavy, and you could feel the spit hanging off your lips, still connected in thin strings to his tip.

He gasped again at the feeling of cool air touching his wet dick. “So… so close,” He bucked his hips again into your hands and you let him, liking watching him chase his own release.

“Where do you want it, huh? I’ll let you decide.” You kept working his dick while he tried his hardest to contain himself.

He groaned, clearly struggling to speak through all of the sensations. “I… I, oh, god, anywhere…” His head was back against the seat again, and this time it seemed to stay there while you kept touching him. Underneath his arms, you could see his torso tensing and relaxing with the way his whole body was pulsing, and even through the darkness you could tell he was toned, insanely so, you could see the rigid outlines of ab muscles where his arms weren’t blocking them. Sharp lines contoured his hips where they dipped into his pelvis, akin to a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that you currently had in your hands, dripping with precum and saliva. You couldn’t take it. You needed to see him blissed out.

You moved your hand back down to the base and planted your flat tongue on the underside of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. “Come on, cum for me, I’ll let you…” With quick movements and the occasional lick to his tip, you brought him closer and closer to his release, and you could see it written all over his face whenever he put his head back up to look down at you. His brows were furrowed, his mouth open, and you could see the glint on his face from sweat. 

“Shit, oh, fuck, I–I’m coming,--” Leon rasped out as much as he could through his thick breaths, body convulsing the second he hit the threshold of his release. You felt it the same time you saw it, his dick throbbed under your palm and a rope of hot white cum spurted upward, landing on his stomach, some on his hands, and yours. You hastily pressed your mouth to the tip, feeling it coat your tongue, the roof of your mouth, drip to the back of your throat. You kept your tongue pressed to the underside of the head, feeling that, too, pulse with his orgasm. He was groaning in tandem with this happening, and you lapped up everything he had to offer, the salty, hot, viscous liquid sitting heavy in your mouth. You choked back a gag with the swallow, but it made it down, and you cleaned your hand, his twitching dick, and wherever it landed on him by licking it up. He whimpered at the feeling of your tongue on his hands.

“You looked so good for me,” You whispered into the air as you slowly rose from your position, and hovered over him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me like this…” You looked down at him, spent, panting, eyes lazily making eye contact with you, but you could see so much more in his gaze. 

A second passed before either of you spoke again. Without moving too far, you brought a hand down to untie the rope, and his hands came to rest over your thigh once they were free. The rope lay discarded on the floor.

“We still have the rest of the night… don’t we?” Your stomach turned at his implication, he still wanted you, and he was still ready to keep going. Your hand came up to gently touch the side of his neck, thumb tracing the edge of his jawline.

“We have however long you want. I’m not done with you.” 

He grinned, his eyes opened a little further this time, and his hands left your thighs to hold your face as he kissed you deeply, blissfully ignoring your phone incessantly ringing, abandoned in the front seat.