#Order Number | request accepted

[nectar-kinbakery]

Could I get masc/neutral punk names for a Kaprosuchus?

Of course:

Boar

Hart

Hyde

Luck

Colt

Snarl

Skull

[wingedfuncomputer]

The Outskirs of Town

Remmick x fem!reader

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

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

Word count: 14.6k Fic playlist!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should help without your pops nagging early mornin'"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Tags: @duckyhowls @seashelleseashellsbytheseashore @thecutestaaakawaii @akumazwrld

[coralquill]

Hi there! If you don't mind writing it, between the LaDS and MC (who are not in a relationship), who would confess their feelings first? And what's your headcanon of how they would confess? Would it be accidental in conversation? Out of frustration? Planned?

Additionally, if it's not too long, how would the other respond?

ahoy, thank you for requesting! oof, that was a roller-coaster of feelings with how I think it'd go for each of the love interests. I struggled with coming up with one for Sylus, but it became my favorite at the end<3

pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader

contents: fluff, love confessions, comfort, iloveyous || wc.1731

— XAVIER

Xavier's love is constant and has always been there, and you have subconsciously accepted in your life.

On a quiet afternoon, Xavier and you strolled along the sidewalk in search of an after-lunch dessert. You stopped in front of an ice-cream parlor and smiled at him, hinting at your want.

Smiling back, Xavier stepped up to the counter. "Two ice-cream cones, please," he ordered, adding in a request you couldn't quite catch.

Moments later, he returned with two ice-cream cones in your favorite flavor and handed you one. "Here you go."

Glancing down, you noticed your ice-cream toppings were arranged in a heart shape. "Thank you." Your voice trailed off as you let the realization set in. That was when you really looked and saw his love.

You realized Xavier had always loved you—how he spent most of his time with you, how he remembered all your preferences and favorites, and how your routines became a part of his days were all quiet ways of him saying I love you without needing to say it aloud.

His love had a steady presence in your life—always there, and it had always been enough.

— ZAYNE

Zayne's love is subtle, showing it whenever it was suited. He only wants for you to confirm your feelings, too.

Zayne promised to meet up with you after work. With a text sent telling you to dress nicely, he drove his car to your house and parked in your driveway, waiting for you to come down.

"Good evening, doctor," you greeted him at the door of his car before sliding in.

Zayne smiled in response, presenting you with a bouquet of jasmines. Small petals, subtle meanings. "This is for you."

"Aw, thank you." You accepted the bouquet. "What's the occasion?"

"Can't I gift flowers to the person I love?" He smiled, sparing you an appreciative glance before driving off the driveway.

You flushed at his words and buried your face in the bouquet, pretending to take in its scent as an excuse to hide away.

The drive to the restaurant was short. Zayne parked his car across the street and got out. He circled around to your side and helped you out. Linking his arm with you, he guided you to the entryway of the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you and asked for the number of attendees. Zayne replied, "There's a reservation under the name Zayne, please."

She quickly nodded and guided you both to your table—private and secluded, away from the crowds of dining guests.

The settings were fancy. Candles lit, drinks already poured, and the gentle music played soft tunes in the background.

With a smile dancing on your lips, you followed Zayne as he guided you to your chair. "What is all of this about?"

Sitting across from you, he linked his fingers at the underside of your chair and pulled you closer. "This is my confession to you. I want to keep you to myself." He gazed into your eyes, his voice softening. "Everytime I look at you and I can't help but want you by my side. Forever and always."

You threw yourself into his embrace, nodding eagerly to accept his feelings, to confirm your own.

And Zayne hugged you back just as eagerly, his face finding purchase at the hollow of your neck. He could feel the pulses of your beating heart—pulsating in response to his.

— RAFAYEL

Rafayel is loud and bold with his confessions and love like fireworks. Though he is waiting for you to meet him halfway.

Warm weather, gentle winds, and perfect sun. All the good factors to hold an outdoor gallery by the beach, and that was exactly what Rafayel planned to do. He had invited you to an event curated just for you, sending you a dress and the venue's address and urging you to be there on time.

"Hello, cutie! You're right on time." He greeted you at the sands of the beach kissed the pavement, taking your hand in his to guide you to what he wanted you to see.

You gasped at the sight.

Carpets of white were laid out over the beige of sand, and purples and pinks of flower petals were thrown across the floor. Canvases upon canvases showcased all around the center part of the gallery. They held the warm, gentle colors of spring and summer, splashed around the vast surfaces in intricate patterns to convey feelings and views witnessed through the eyes of an artist—and they all shared one subject. You.

You were the centerpiece of every canvas, painted delicate and dainty and with love.

Overwhelmed with feelings, you glanced at Rafayel, wanting him to take the helm as you set sail through the waves of emotions.

He took your hand in his, smiling gently, "I take it as you like my little surprise for you?"

"Like it? I love it—I love you!" You blurted out.

Rafayel gasped in surprise, nodding in excitement, "Oh, yes! I love you, too!" His voice rang with the same passion he had poured into each and every painting surrounding you. Bold, and bright, and unapologetic.

He couldn't hold his excitement in any longer and smothered your face with kisses.

Rafayel had always been bold with his choices. Bright colors, flamboyant clothing, and his declarations of love for you. Though he never forced you to reciprocate, always waiting for you to meet him halfway.

And you did.

— SYLUS

Sylus has always been open with his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve when it came to you. He's just patiently waiting for you to accept his love.

The city lights blurred into streaks as Sylus sped through the bustling roads. He had you riding behind him and clutching at the sides of his leather jacket as you felt the air resist against your helmet.

Mirror-clad skyscrapers mirrored racing reflections of you and Sylus whenever the motorcycle roared past their glinting surfaces. Sylus drove you through the streets and roads, buildings bleeding into the background until they stood tall and unmoving once the motorcycle came to a stop.

Red light.

Your fingers twitched at Sylus's sides.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You raised your head up and saw Sylus was already watching you with his visor raised up. He pressed a button at the side of your helmet, forcing your visor to go up as well. Your eyes met his—and you lost yourself in them.

They were captivating, alluring, and they held you with such gentleness that all your worries and woes melted away.

"Sweetie?"

You blinked, eyes flickering from Sylus's to all the prominent features of his face before wavering. You focused on a faraway building, watching its surface catch the gleaming lights of the city. You sighed, "it's nothing."

Sylus was still watching you, and the distant look in your eyes gave you away. Something was bothering you, and you didn't want to let Sylus know.

He breathed out softly, hooking his finger underneath your helmet to redirect your attention back to him. "Listen to me," he said, "no matter what it is and no matter whoever is involved, just say the word and I will take care of it."

"I will," you responded, voice tender and raw. "I trust you will."

"I mean it." Sylus gently bumped his helmet against yours. "I'd do anything for you. You know I love you."

His eyes bore into yours and they spoke of love so deep, so pure. It seeped from his heart and throughout his veins, awaiting just outside the doors of your heart—to be accepted, to be welcomed.

Green light.

The traffic lights illuminated the streets with green, and it was time to go—to move forward and finally welcome his feelings into your heart.

— CALEB

Caleb beats around the bush about his feelings for you. Though he's clear about not wanting anyone else (other than you.) He'd be surprised when you finally admit your feelings for him, too.

"You have to be careful with what you're doing, pip-squeak," Caleb sighed in frustration. "I don't appreciate getting calls during work from people I don't know telling me something's happened to you." He stood up and paced around the room, each step heavy with stress.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing your way. You sat in the middle of the couch, looking guilty and all too sorry for worrying him.

His heart broke a little at the sight.

Caleb crouched in front of you, his arms resting around your knees. "It's just that... I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to imagine living in a world without you. I love you—"

Upon uttering those three last words, Caleb clamped his mouth shut. He froze in place, never meaning for the words to slip out. He considered backtracking, playing it off as a joke, but he couldn't. He'd never do that. Not to you.

You looked down into his eyes, all quiet and unreadable.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Caleb." You smiled at him. "I love you, too."

No response.

"Caleb?" You waved a hand in front of his face.

"—Yeah?" He squeaked out, coming back to his senses. His face flushed deep red.

You laughed.

Caleb had never expected you to return his feelings. He had never meant to confess. But after hearing those three words from you, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

And just like that, his world stopped collapsing in on itself—and it settled. Like love had always been there, but it finally had its proper name: you.

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!

— set sail for more tales, sailor: ⚲masterlist

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹°‧𓇼

© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[cas-couture]

cas couture.

cas couture is an upcoming community-based sim magazine focused on fashion. what sets cas couture apart is that we will not allow permanently paywalled cc to be featured in the magazine and aim to highlight the numerous, talented cc creators in the community :)

we are looking for simblrs who would like their stories/cc/creations/sims/pretty-much-anything ADVERTISED (for free, this is not a cash grab) in the APRIL 2025 ISSUE!

as cas couture is community driven, we need YOUR participation!

( more info under the cut !!! )

we want to put the spotlight back on this community and appreciate active simblrs. we want to encourage blog interaction and actually make the community ~feel like a community!

what will advertising look like?

sponsoring might look different across different spreads, it might be an ad for a movie/ tv series (i.e., this would advertise a sim story), an ad for a product/ designer (i.e., this would advertise a CC creator) and so on.

we're pretty much open to advertising anything! :) if you have any ideas for how you would like your creation advertised, let us know!

what are the requirements to sponsor?

you must be 18+ to apply

this is for fun!!!! pls remember that :) and also pls don’t be zionists or trumpies or homophobes or racist or anything else awful because :( and that’ll be another reason why we can’t have nice things :(

submit this sponsorship form (set aside 10 mins to fill this out, if your sponsorship is accepted, have some pictures/content ready that you would like us to use!)

reblog this post so i know ur for real about wanting to advertise!!

you would reblog and boost and interact with the April issue when it releases on April 11 :) (this would run on an honor system because I'm not a weirdo, but........ like if not enough people do it, it probably won't be worth the effort of making all the ads if no one's going to read the first issue/ interact with it? the point of cas couture IS blog interaction!!!!)

deadline to submit a sponsorship form is April 1. if you are making your own advertisement, it is April 10.

faq

i'm an editor for the magazine already, can I apply to sponsor?

yes, you totally can! we would just request you still fill out the form and once we confirm your sponsorship, we would just ask you to make your own advertisement, as it would probably be the quickest method :)

can I make my own advertisement as a sponsor?

yes, you totally can! once you're accepted as a sponsor, we will send you more information on the canvas size and other regulations <3

how many advertisements are you accepting?

there is no set number, it's more like... how many advertisements we can crank out in time for April 11 :) if you are willing to create your own advertisement and submit it by April 10th, the chances are 99.999% that we would accept :)

why is reblogging this post a requirement in order to apply for sponsorship?

because it'll show that you're truly willing to ruin your impeccable feed with simblr community content! if you're not willing to do it now, you probably won't want to later :( cas couture can only fuel itself on my hopes and dreams for so long until it burns out :( the aim is for blog interaction, making (age-appropriate) friends and having a good time!!!!

thank you for supporting cas couture! you're helping fund the nepo babies'-- i mean, interns'-- matcha addictions-- i mean, education!

asking da community for some support <3

as this is totally a community project, i'm going to tag some community members who really helped the last post reach the masses (I'm sorry, I'm annoying for tagging!!!) and current editors (I'm going off the top of my head, I'm sorry if I miss anyone!!!) on the team for the April issue!!!! if you don't like to be tagged, I'm sorry!!!!! <3333

@householdbinary @jokiyo @simafrassx @olivetelfie @my-kwy @southernfriedsims-blog @ratwoman161 @harvestsims @mmonetsims @kdplayssss @liyahssims @fairytailtow @crazy-hazy-sims @aliengirl @strangegrapefruit @thebramblewood @thefoxburyinstitute @missatan

psst, we're still accepting editors for the April issue!!! learn more about the roles available here!

[queerliblib]

hey, could a small self published author possibly get its book in your library? it's not quite done yet but it'll be out on my website within the next year or so and it'd really make me happy to send you guys a copy :] thanks!!

hi! good question. we do have a lot of indie, small press, and even self pub authors in our collection, however the process is a little complicated due to our status as a digital library. In order for us to be able to purchase a copy of your book one day, it will need to be available on OverDrive, as that is currently our only platform for digital books.

Because we can’t accept physical copies, PDFs, or other digital files at this time, in order for you to donate a copy of your title, we can accept a monetary donation for the cost of the number of copies you’d like to donate - If it’s available on OverDrive

If it’s not, unfortunately we wouldn’t be able to add it to the collection.

Authors: if you are interested in donating copies of your book(s) reach out to librarian@queerliberationlibrary.org

Readers: if you want to suggest a book to add to the collection, please use the ‘notify me’ tags on libby or the acquisition request form on our website <3

[mirclealignr]

self preservation | james potter [4k]

james potter x fem!reader

requested by anonymous wherein james likes everyone but y/n.

warnings: descriptions of vehicle disasters, death, gets a little dark, angst, she / her pronouns, and i think that’s it?

a/n: help IDK. anyway lemme know ur thoughts !

If James Potter could embody his hatred into a sentient being, he knew it would take the form of Y/N. Ever since their schooling days, James had held a particular disregard for her. Though she seemed the person everyone could like - a pleasing disposition, an amiable temperament - James could not help but dislike her.

No one else could see through her falsity. James vehemently protested her joining the Order, but alas, he was overruled. To James, this was merely a temporary setback, and he would still yet prove to the others what a mistake it was accepting her.

She was insufferable, inappropriate, and unsuitable for this sort of position. She would not be an asset to the Order, purely a liability. He watched her train, knowing she could never rise to the challenge of the types of operations they carried out: gathering intelligence, attacking Voldemort’s followers directly in meticulously orchestrated missions, and protecting vulnerable individuals who had, for some reason, made themselves Voldemort’s targets.

James knew it was only a matter of time before she proved herself unworthy.

“If everyone is here, I think we can start the meeting,” suggested James after a few moments of polite mingling.

“Y/N isn’t here,” Remus noted. “We should wait for her.”

“It isn’t our fault if she can’t make our meetings on time,” spat James.

“She’s not actually late yet, James,” Marlene rolled her eyes. “Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”

James ignored the probing of Marlene and instead crossed his arms, his lips pressed in a tight line. What would it matter if she missed the start of the meeting? She was not so very important to the Order, in any regard.

As James quietly huffed, Y/N peered around the door sheepishly. “Sorry. Was hoping I wouldn’t be the last to arrive.”

“No matter,” hummed Dumbledore. “Shall we begin?” He lifted his arms, a sort of request that people took their seats and quietened down.

James could hardly pay attention to the meeting at all. He seethed at Y/N, glaring at her, thinking about all the ways in which she would inevitably fail the Order and cost them valuable information, their secrecy, and perhaps even their lives. Sirius had once asked him why he disliked her so, but he could not think of an answer beyond — “There’s just something about her.” 

The truth, no one would ever know.  

“Mr. Potter?”

James said nothing.

“Mr. Potter?!” Minerva said again, louder this time.

James snapped his attention toward Minerva. “Sorry! What were you saying?” his cheeks flushed.

Minerva sighed. “We have it on good authority that Voldemort is planning some sort of attack in London. However, we believe this to be a decoy for something much bigger. Now, we can't be sure, but-"

"But we think they're planning an attack on the Ministry," interrupted Moody.

"The Ministry?!" Lily seemed rather shocked. "It's one thing attacking defenceless Muggles, it's another to attack the Ministry of Magic."

"We've been aware for some time that the Ministry has been infiltrated, Miss Evans," Kinglsey Shacklebolt chimed in. "We have only been unaware as to who it is feeding information back to Voldemort."

"Why now?" Asked Sirius.

"The Ministry is...distracted. With the recurrence of attacks in the Muggle World, the Ministry's top priority is maintaining our secrecy. The Muggle Prime Minister is becoming more uncooperative." Moody explained.

"Who can blame him?" Minerva scoffed.

"So, what are we doing about it?" James asked.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Moody turned to him. "We need people stationed both in the potential attack spots in London and within the Ministry. We need a safe house, we need-"

"Numbers," James finished his sentence.

"Exactly. Which means everyone will be a part of this operation, everyone."

Although this was to be expected, it did not mean that those who were usually part of the behind the scenes aspects of the Order were not apprehensive as to their performances in the field. While everyone had received training and were more than enough prepared for such an operation, training in a controlled space was nothing to the unpredictability of real life. There would be no second chances.

James laughed humourlessly. The disaster he had predicted was about to come to fruition. Thursday next, he would be proven right.

Y/N out in the field? Though she had been desperate to be part of operations like this, James had protested her at every corner. Albus and Minerva merely agreed due to her age and inexperience, though she was not much younger than James herself.  James did not care why they kept her out of the field in the end, as long as she was kept out.

But it seemed, there would be no protesting this decision.

The mingling continued post meeting, some taking small portions of food and others inching their way to the door with polite smiles on their faces. James watched the scene before him unfold—observing the awkward small talk, tuning in on the more serious chatter of the senior members.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admitted. “Are you?” She asked Lily.

“A little, yeah. But we’ll be fine!” She assured her.

“You won’t be alone,” Remus reassured the both of them. “We’ll all be there.”

James chuckled. “Yeah but we can’t be covering your arse the whole time.”

The three of them turned to James’ direction. Remus shot him an uncomfortable look, a silent plea to drop the subject and move on.

“What? I’m just saying, we’re not here to hold your hand and risk the entire point of the operation just because you aren’t good enough for field work.”

Y/N’s countenance could not be characterised by merely one thing. It was evident in her face she felt humiliated, downcast and reproachful. Nevertheless, with a brave face, Y/N smiled gently, strategically avoiding the concerned looks of Lily and Remus.

“Best not get in my way, then,” she said through gritted teeth, sliding between her friends to bid her goodbyes to Albus and Minerva.

“Careful, James” Lily warned. “Anyone would think you don’t want her to get hurt.”

- - -

Y/N hadn’t the faintest idea as to James’ disdain for her. For a while, during their Hogwarts years, Y/N optimistically imagined it was part of a bit, that perhaps this was his way of seeking her attention. But after years of growing and maturing, this part of their relationship remained unchanged, regardless of his obvious efforts to mend his other ways.

If anything, his hatred for her only grew. His childish dislike was replaced with concrete, adult contempt, something that could not be easily shifted nor changed. For the most part, she didn’t let him get to her, for she was adamant in rebuking his success. However, upon discovering it was James who was behind keeping from really being a part of the Order, things took a drastic change.

Almost instantly, his immature jibes and snarky comments pricked at her fragile skin, pinched her nerves and seized her sensitive heart. Suddenly, it was much harder to ignore the words that came from a place of such hatred. Especially when it came from someone she truly admired.

Yes, Y/N could not deny that ever since Hogwarts, she had admired James Potter. Confident, successful, intelligent—she was in awe of him from the beginning. It was quiet admiration, a well kept secret. After joining the Order, she observed that these talents had only blossomed.

Y/N slipped quietly away from the safe house, walking through the small park lit up by extravagantly designed lampposts. She listened to the fountain, the crunch of leaves from hedgehogs coming out of their slumber, and for any sign of footsteps behind her. These were dangerous times. When it was safe, she apparated home—a small flat on the outskirts of the centre of London. From her bedroom window she could see the impressive city skyline.

She didn’t mind living in Muggle London for the most part, but she knew it wouldn’t be forever. When it was all over, she’d move far away from it all, from where it had all happened.

But for now, she was exactly where she needed to be.

- - -

It had all been decided. A safe house had been provided in South Hampton, where Dorcas would stay and monitor, charming it with spells that could not be pierced. Kingsley would remain with the Muggle Prime Minister with an extra helping hand from Minerva. Moody retained his position within the Ministry where Remus, Lily, Frank and Marlene were posted.

Albus, Y/N, James, Alice, Gideon and Fabian were stationed throughout Muggle London, paired off and waiting for some sort of attack. James and Y/N were waiting near the Thames, a coffee sitting on their table, a half eaten pastry—blending in. James hadn’t said a word.

“The Order does not function when we are divided, Mr. Potter. This is not a punishment, as you have described, it is a reconciliation.”

James could hear Dumbledore’s words reverberating through his thoughts. Mindless words, he thought. As much as he hated to admit it, however, he knew Dumbledore’s words rang with truth.

“So…what’d you order?” James asked.

Y/N snapped her eyes from the river, laughing through her nose before answering. “Err something with pistachio, I think? Not that nice. You?”

“Regular.”

Y/N knew this was simply an attempt to appear normal—to chat and act natural. But there was a small part of her that wished it was more.

“I don’t even like coffee,” James laughed.

Y/N laughed too, scrunching her brows together. “Why didn’t you get a hot chocolate or something?”

“I don’t even know,” he shook his head.

“Want to try mine?” Y/N asked.

James was taken aback. He had his reasons, but he’d never been nice to Y/N, not even polite, so it took him by surprise when she gave him the benefit of the doubt and was nice to him anyway.

“No, it’s okay.”

She shrugged, leaving her pistachio drink on the table. She wondered if she should say something now or let the silence settle around them again like a cage they seemed to never be released from.  

“Have you heard anything?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet. It’s getting to that time when all the Muggles leave work. London is about to get even busier,” he sighed, concerned for the lives he couldn’t protect.

“Even if our best isn’t good enough, we still cared enough to do something,” Y/N reassured him, placing her hand on his atop the table.

James felt curiously warm from her act of kindness, something which led him into a kind of comfort he’d never felt before. And it was likely to do with the fact he’d never let her this close before.

Y/N had run out of time to fix what was broken between them, for behind James’ head, she saw it—a flare of red sparks. Someone had cast Vermillious.

“James, we need to go,” Y/N instructed, nodding her head in the direction of where she had seen it—the remnants of red hung in the air.

“Shit!”

The two of them ran to a nearby alley, Y/N ever so slightly behind. When they were sure enough to be alone, the two of them clasped hands and apparated to the nearest high rise they could remember seeing beside the red sparks. It did not take them long after arriving to realise from where the commotion had originated.

Streams of people spilled out from the stairs of the Underground, running, screaming, and terrified.

James dove into the horde of civilians, squeezing and shoving his way through the onslaught of panic. Y/N followed, slipping through behind him in the path he’d already cleared. It was a maze and understanding it certainly wasn’t helped by people running in every direction to find any sort of exit. James had only been down there once as a laugh with his mates, curious to experience how Muggles got around.

But Y/N, she had been on the tube a plethora of times. She enjoyed feeling like she was a part of something just as everyone else was. She missed the feeling of belonging—being in Muggle London made it easier for her with the Order, but she felt bitterly alone, isolated and excluded in a city that would never understand nor accept her.

“I can’t tell what’s actually going on,” James shouted over the swarm.

“I don’t-”

But Y/N was cut short by an Earth-shattering crash somewhere in the distance ahead, followed by an echo of shrieks. The citizens of London intensified their cries, panic overloading as people began to push and shove, trampling over each other to reach some kind of safety. 

James began helping individuals who had tumbled to the floor while Y/N tried to deduce the direction from which they were running. It seemed as if most people were heading away from the north east side, and so that is the direction they headed.

However, they did not need to reach their destination to figure out what had caused so much horror. On their way, they saw Gideon and Fabian, crawling and stumbling in the wreckage of two Underground tubes that had evidently crashed into one another. And further on, Albus and Alice at yet another wreckage site. 

This was grave. There were not enough of them.

James had lost sight of Y/N, torn between who to help and what direction to go. He ran through the Underground, searching for more trains, if there were any other damages, searching for Y/N. After many twists and turns he found her, leading civilians aboard a train to safety. It had not been crashed into by another, but James suspected, as she did, it was mostly likely a sitting duck.

James herded the swarm of people towards the nearest exit, panic setting in as he heard a train barrelling into the station from a distance through the echoing tunnel. There were still people on the train, including Y/N, forcing people up, helping children who had lost their parents in the tumult. It was nearing ever closer, blasting its horn as a siren of danger which only fueled the hysteria of helpless innocents.

Death approached, warning its potential victims, crying for lives to be spared. Y/N was determined to save as many as she could, as time would allow. And though she had been unwilling to sacrifice her own, in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

“Y/N, get off that train now!” James screamed.

He had never felt such fear seize him before, snatching his breath from his lungs. He was immobilised with dread, terror, a fear that had forced on him the truths he had not previously been willing to confront. If Y/N died now, those truths and his regret would be buried, unable to be dug out to make way for something new, someone new. Y/N would remain with him forever, interlaced into the very fabric of his being, unable to materialise. 

Y/N looked up through the window, a child in her arms. She knew the deadly collision was imminent, she knew the child was frightened yet unaware as to why. She could see his mother was crying, held back by onlookers - those who had no attachment to the child yet could not see a mother die alongside her young.

James watched as Y/N fought to reach the open doors as he forced his way through the crowd scrambling to get away and avoid the impact. He watched the train speed closer, inching Y/N towards the end. She understood nothing but to get the child off the train and into his mother’s arms. In a desperate attempt to bring this to fruition, she threw the child off the train, for time had swiftly been exhausted. James caught the screaming child, handing it off quickly to the mother who had not time to even express her gratitude before she ran from the platform seconds before the train collided with the other, Y/N having not made it to safety.

James threw himself round a corner, diving to the floor for some sort of cover. But almost as quickly as he had gone down, he was back on his feet, searching for a sign of Y/N in the wreckage. He could not see her anywhere, he could barely see anything in the mangled train. His heart stopped. Moments later Gideon and Fabian arrived on the scene, pulling survivors from the other train, calling for aid, but James merely fell to his knees.

After years, James had come to realise that it was not Y/N that he had hated, but the possibilities she illustrated, the hypotheticals that all too often ended in tragedy, of which she symbolised. Because, in spite of it all, James was afraid that the potential of her love, that eternal promise, would vanish, taken as a victim of the war like so much else.

All the hatred he had fostered and nurtured towards her, all the loathing, was nothing more than a pathetic attempt at self preservation. At all costs James would protect his heart against what might tear it apart, the remnants of his flesh revealing the pieces of her woven into him.

“James? What is it?” Alice cried, arriving at the scene.

He couldn’t speak, only lifted his head to look at the sight of it again, wincing. Alice followed his gaze, unsure of what he meant.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, suddenly frantic.

James whimpered.

“Where is she?” She asked again. “James?!”

“Gone! She’s gone, alright?!” Screamed James, tears slowly beginning to fall from his eyes and pathetically flow down his cheeks. 

Everything he had been protecting himself from had happened anyway, despite his efforts and regardless of what he had done to prevent it. Except, James was left with the uncertainty, the soul eroding sentiment, of ‘what if.’ In the months and years to come, instead of being able to reconcile with his grief, comforted by the fact that he had made the most of the time he had with her, James would be left a shadow of himself, shrinking into his shame and regret. 

He had convinced himself to hate her, and over the years had begun to believe in his own lie. He did not hate her at all. Everything he had done to keep her out of the Order had, perhaps sometimes subconsciously, been to prevent this very fate. Though he had disguised it with disregard and disbelief in her abilities, even at times believing in his own lie, it was all deception.

His biggest fear was loving and losing her, but now he had lost her without the privilege of being able to love her. 

There was no final goodbye, nothing he could say to her in her final moments to make anything worthwhile. She was simply gone. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. His tears had been few, perhaps too in shock to really hand himself over to the anguish that would inevitably consume him. 

He couldn’t stay there, not while there were innocent lives at stake. So James stood and mustered the strength he had left, turning to face Alice and Dumbledore. 

But James was met with a different face. Someone wholly unexpected. Y/N. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N laughed. “I’m fine.” 

“Wh- How?” James sniffled. 

“I disapparated. I don’t know why but I thought of home and that’s where I ended up. After the shock of like…nearly dying, I came straight back,” she explained, rather nonchalantly, James thought. “Sorry if I scared you.”

He could say nothing. He felt all too much to be able to decipher each emotion which mercilessly punctured his heart. James wrapped his arms around her in a pure and driven show of his affection, overcome with the emotion he had hidden and locked away for too long. He squeezed her tightly, and thanked some greater being that she hadn’t been harmed. 

He’d been given a second chance. 

- - - 

James didn’t see Y/N again until the next Order meeting a week later. Time and time again he found himself outside her apartment building, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, or a coffee without pistachio in it. But every time he felt the courage slip from his body, carried away in the late summer breeze. 

He didn’t know how to begin to make amends, how to say what he’d felt for years in a comprehensive way. It barely made sense to him why he had chosen the path that he had. How would it make sense to her, the person he had treated so poorly for all these years? 

As Dumbledore droned on, praising the members of the Order for how many lives they had saved, reassuring them over the lives that were lost, and cheering to an overall successful mission, James felt his eyes drawn to Y/N almost every second. She was her usual self, no different to how she had always been. 

James had faced his torment alone. 

“Y/N, could I speak to you?” James asked when the meeting had ended. 

“Sure,” she shrugged, heading into an empty room, suspecting nothing. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” James shifted his feet. “I don’t really know where to start.” 

James could hardly hear himself over the pounding in his ears. 

Y/N only smiled. 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry…for how shit I’ve treated you over the years-”

“Oh, please, James, it’s fine,” laughed Y/N. “You don’t have to feel guilty ‘cause I might have almost died or something. I’m fine, so don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge,” she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. 

“No,” James said firmly, causing Y/N to remove the hand that had been placed comfortingly on his shoulder. “It’s more than that,” he hesitated a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve never felt so frightened in my entire life than when you were on that train. When I thought-” he steadied himself. “When I thought you’d gone, I’ve never felt such…despair.” 

Y/N listened closely, breath hitching. 

“I’ve never been able to tell you before, I’ve never wanted to because I thought that what I was doing was protecting myself. It didn’t matter if I was hurting you because in the end, I’d save us both from more heartbreak. But that day I realised, I wasn’t saving us from anything but more pain,” James took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’m in love with you. And I have been for a long time. Please, let me try to make things right between us.” 

Y/N stood and analysed James in silence. His sincerity was written all over his shameful expression, desperate for her approval. He wanted nothing more than to make amends, a second chance to make up for the years he had lost to foolishness. 

“James I-”

She hadn’t an idea of how to address him, or what to say. Could it work between them? The boy she had admired and the boy who hated her?

He waited anxiously, impatiently, tapping his fingers against his thighs. 

“I’d like you to try,” she let out a breath as she spoke the words. “I’d like us to try,” she smiled. 

James’ breath was trembling, but a wide grin spread over his lips as he took her in. Someone he had been so afraid of was so beautiful, so graceful, so forgiving.  He stepped an inch closer, and could smell the hint of her perfume. 

“Then, please, can I kiss you?” 

He was quivering. Y/N only nodded, unable to voice her response in fear she would sound too eager. James was tentative, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. Y/N closed her eyes before he had reached her, nervous and waiting for a moment she thought would live only in a fantasy. 

When James’ lips met hers, it was gentle but passionate, conveying every unspoken word between them in one simple, human gesture that mankind had designed to mean so much more. 

tags 🏷️: @foolexby @jaeviii @velvetcloxds

taglist form!

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Dr Dad

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Daughter!Reader

AN: This was requested by anon and I struggled towards the end but I hope y'all enjoy. Also, I wrote a second part to chocolate bars and injuries but hated it completly, so i'm gonna have to rewrite it.

Also also, I had an idea of a mortician!reader but idk who to pair it with, i was thinking Dr Shen but i'd love suggestions.

TW!!: drugging, implied attempted r@pe, assualt , regular medical misinformation

Synopsis: Jack Abbot's worst nightmare comes true when he daughter arrives in the ED unconscious.

Jack Abbot's brows furrowed in confusion as his call to his daughter went to voicemail for the fifth time that evening, something extremely out of the ordinary. It had been just him and his daughter for years, ever since his wife had passed away years ago and they had an extremely strong bond, constant texting with at least one phone call a day.

When you went to college, you stayed close by, choosing a college in the city so you could remain at home and commute daily despite your fathers protests. He wanted you to experience dorm life and the typical college experience but you were steadfast in your choice. You liked living at home, it meant you didn't have to have a roommate or share a bathroom and even though he'll deny it, your dad was a very decent cook and you loved sharing meals with him, whether it be something either of you cooked or a takeaway. Besides you had a solid group of friends on campus, occasionally staying at theirs if you had gone to a party or an event and it was too late to come back home, so it wasn't as if you were missing out.

Whenever Jack did work nights, you usually called to check up around nine p.m but when no call buzzed his phone, Jack became worried but he couldn't dwell on it as an emergency came through the door, occupying his time for a few hours. So when he tried to call you the next free moment he got and it rang unanswered until it reached your voicemail, a pit forms in his stomach. 

"What's wrong?" Bridget, the night shift charge nurse asked, noticing Jack's expression.

Jack updates her with what has happened, "She hasn't called me and she's not answering her phone…this never happens."

"It's friday night, maybe she went out?" Bridget offers.

Jack shakes his head, "She would tell me, she always does and her friends have my number in case of emergencies, if she can't message me then they will."

Bridget gives him a comforting pat on his shoulder knowing how protective and how worried he gets about his doubt and no words she could say would ease his stress and the only person who could, is his daughter.

Then the phone goes off and Bridget answers it, taking the information with experienced ease before she hangs up and relays the information to everyone around, preparing them for the incoming patient.

"We've got a young woman, early twenties, found unconscious on the street with a head lac. ETA is three minutes."

Dr Shen looks over at Jack and notices how he's still worried about his daughter and so offers to take the new patient which Jack gratefully accepts before he seeks privacy by the lockers. 

After another failed phone call to you, Jack is one press away from calling one of your friends when he hears Bridget yelling his name and he quickly returns to doctor mode and rushes over to her, snapping a pair of gloves on.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"The new patient," Bridget is almost breathless, "It's your daughter. She's in South seven."

Jack is gone in a blink of an eye, stethoscope bouncing on his chest as he rushes to the room and bursting into the room with a bang, startling Dr Shen and the nurses but he pays them no attention as he makes his way to your bedside, gentle hands cradling your face.

"What the hell happened?" Jack looks around for answers.

"We've ordered scans and tests but the head lac seems straightforward enough, it'll need staples." Dr Shen informs him but it doesn't ease the weight on his chest.

"I'll get a rush on it" Jack nods as he reaches for the phone in the room.

Jack stewed in anger as he sat by your bedside, waiting for you to finally wake up. The results of the tests they sent for had him shaking in anger and demanding for the police.

You had been drugged.

All Jack could do is clench his jaw and fist as he waited for you to finally wake. He wanted the name of the person who had done this to his daughter and he became even more incensed when he realised that the legal punishment for this would never be enough.

Shuffling from your bed brings Jack out of his head and he stands up, leaning over the rail watching as you slowly wake up, blinking confusedly at your surroundings.

"Wha…"

Jack reaches over and takes your hand in his, "Hey honey, it's me. You're at the hospital but you're fine, you're safe here.  I'm taking care of you, don't worry."

"...Dad?"

"Yeah it's me honey"

You grip your father's hand tightly as you try to arrange your scattered thoughts, "What happened? Why am I here?"

"That's what I want to know honey." Jack soothes you, "They found drugs in your system, they made you unconscious. Did you go out to a bar? Maybe someone spiked your drink? Are you not using those test strips I gave you?"

"I didn't go to the bar." You blinked at the rapid set of questions your dad threw at you, "I was at the library, someone from one of my classes asked to study together."

 Jack's frown deepens, "What happened?"

"He came up to me after class and asked to study together-"

"And you agreed?! You can't just hang out with strangers." Jack's fierce overprotectiveness reared its head.

"It's finals week soon and this course is hard, having study partners isn't out of the ordinary" You huff at your dad, not liking the blaming tone.

"Honey, I've told you-"

"It's not my fault!" You snap, tears in your eyes, "He offered to grab us coffee and what did you expect me to do huh?"

"Oh fuck-" Jack closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid. Of course it wasn't your fault, I just want to find this fucker"

"How was I supposed to know?" You sob, your emotions hitting you all at once, "I wasn't planning on staying late, I told him that and he said he'll get me a coffee as a thank you. Once I felt the effects, I tried to leave but I was so dizzy, I think I fell somewhere, that's what gave me the head injury."

"He must have run once he saw you, but it's okay, the cops will be here soon and you can tell them when they arrive," Jack wipes your tears, "What's the guy's name?"

You furrow your brows as you try to remember the name, "Chris…Chris something. I can't remember but it's on my phone."

Your phone had been in your pocket when you had been found and placed with your clothes to the side after you had been changed into a hospital gown. Your father quickly passed it to you, watching closely as you unlocked it and brought up your text messages, quickly finding Chris' details.

"Chris Baker." Jack murmurs, reading the phone before turning to you and locking your phone, "You've gone through alot tonight, you should get some more rest."

You're reluctant to let go of his hand, squeezing tightly,"Can…can you stay?"

Dr Shen steps in at that moment, overhearing your question and before Jack can answer, he does.

"You can stay, we'll just yell when we need your help" Dr Shen laughs.

You laugh as well, easing Jack's worried frown but man still sends a glare at the younger doctor.

"You can't shirk your attending duties dad," You laugh again, taking a jab at your father, waving goodbye as Dr Shen left after noting your vitals.

"Alright," Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, "Get some rest. I love you honey-bun."

You settle back into the hospital bed, eyes fluttering close "I love you too dad."

[kxsagi]

Hii!! Im here to request something if that’s alright! First of all, I need to say I love your work, it genuinely has me kicking my feet in bed till midnight sometimes!!

If it’s okay, I’d like to request something with the BLLK character (Shidou, Ness, Kaiser and anyone else you think) with a super feminine, girly and pink girlfriend, who just snores loudly when she sleeps?

Hope your well!! XOXO❤️

“𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩”

a/n: thank you so much lovey!! i'm well and hope you are too! ❤️

duality is the hottest personality trait imo so this request idea is gold

(don't know art credits so sorry)

ft. shidou ryusei, ness alexis, kaiser michael, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae

shidou ryusei

thinks it’s hot. like genuinely. the snoring? music to his ears. 

when he first hears it, he starts laughing so hard he wakes you up. 

“no, no, don’t stop, babe, go back to sleep. i was vibing.” 

totally makes a stupid beat out of your snores and plays it for the team. it actually slaps. 

calls you “princess piggy” affectionately. 

buys you pink satin sleep masks and pink skull-print blankets. the duality. 

ness alexis

nearly cried the first night. 

he genuinely thought you were choking? he was so worried omg. 

now he brings earplugs and still cuddles you like a human teddy bear. 

if anyone says anything about your snoring he’s like “it’s not that loud 🙄” (it is, it’s seismic). 

calls you “sleeping beauty” and tucks your hair behind your ear like he’s in a kdrama. 

insists on pink everything in your shared space. pink slippers? matching. pink toothbrush? bought two. 

kaiser michael

smirks when he first hears it. 

“so that’s the sound of true love, huh?” 

secretly records it once to tease you but ends up setting it as his alarm because “it’s motivating.” 

loves that you’re all dolled up in pink during the day and a little goblin at night. if that isn’t balance, what is? 

he calls you “snuggle siren” like it’s a title of honor. 

custom-orders pink silk pajamas with his number on them for you. “gotta rep your man in your sleep.” 

nagi seishiro

doesn’t even notice. 

he sleeps through it. 

when someone brings it up he’s just like, “eh? she snores? that’s kinda cute.” 

if anything, your snoring helps him fall asleep faster. “white noise, but better.” 

likes napping on your lap while you play games with your pink claw clips in his hair. 

sometimes snores back in harmony. it’s a duet. 

itoshi rin

immediately shot up in bed the first time like what the hell was that. 

“is there a demon in this room? oh. it’s just you.” 

took a while to get used to it but now he just shoves a pillow over his head and accepts fate. 

buys noise-canceling headphones but still insists on cuddling. 

if anyone talks bad about your snoring, he’ll glare and say “she’s perfect.” 

lets you paint his nails pink once. regrets it instantly but lowkey loves the way your eyes sparkle. 

isagi yoichi

was so startled he thought it was an earthquake. 

but he gets used to it fast and actually finds it endearing. 

“you’re the cutest girl in the world, even if you sound like a truck.” 

he tucks you in so gently every night like he’s prepping you for battle. 

brags about how pink and adorable you are but would throw hands if someone mocked your snoring. 

insists on couple items: pink jerseys, pink keychains, and matching pink water bottles (preferably stanleys). 

itoshi sae

lifts his head the first night like are you serious right now. 

side-eyes your sleeping form for a full minute. 

next day: “you snore.” no further comments. 

but he lets you sleep on his chest anyway and eventually finds the noise weirdly comforting. 

buys you expensive pink loungewear like it’s nothing. “you like this color, right?” 

kisses your forehead before bed and says “don’t shake the walls tonight.” you never listen. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[vroomvro0mferrari]

CL16 | She’s Busy

Summary: You and Charles have been friends for ages, but recently his protectiveness has reached new heights, ruining your every chance at love. It's high time you put an end to it, and you know just how.

Based on this request!

Charles x fem!Reader, friends to lovers

WC: 4.2K

Warnings: Maybe some cursing? Also, Charles shows some red flags…

Masterlist

“I can’t tonight, Cha,” Y/N told him, a small frown on her face – she knew it’d disappoint him.

“Why not? Do you have plans already?”

“No,” she lied. “I’m just really tired and I think it’s better if I stay in tonight.”

“You can stay in at my place, you’re already here. I can ditch Kika and Pierre, I can cook—”

“Charles,” Y/N protested.

“Okay, I won’t cook, we can order something and watch a movie. It’ll be so much more fun than staying in alone.” 

“I just need some alone time, okay? I’ve had a really busy week, and I just want to nap on my couch and eat ice cream. And I don’t want you to miss out on your dinner with Pierre and Kika. We can have dinner next week?” She offered as a last attempt to convince him, an awkward smile on her face.

Charles sighed. “Fine, but you’re not getting out of it!”

She nodded, slightly amused at his pouty face, before planting a quick kiss on his cheek and heading out the door. 

Y/N had known Charles for ages. They met when they were younger, still in school, and had stuck together through thick and thin. She’d been there for Charles when Jules died, when his father passed, and when he finally realised his lifelong dream of driving for Ferrari, and Charles had done the same for her. No matter how busy his life got, he was always there when Y/N needed him.

So was Pierre. Y/N had met him through Charles, as the two boys were inseparable from a young age, and she was immediately absorbed into their friendship. Pierre was incredibly accepting of her, and she quickly grew to love him just as much as Charles, even though he had moved away when they were older. It made it more difficult to maintain the friendship, especially since she didn’t see Pierre every other weekend like Charles did, but they managed.

In some situations it was good that Pierre lived in a different country; it made it more difficult for him to tell Y/N’s secrets to Charles. Now, she didn’t keep many secrets – actually, until a few months back she didn’t keep any secrets from Charles, but the change in the situation called for it.

Charles and Pierre had always been protective over Y/N, trying to keep her out of danger in any way they could. It was sweet, really, and their intentions had always been good. Besides, sometimes it was helpful; their meddling had saved her from dating a guy who was only with her for a chance at fame and to meet two Formula 1 drivers, and another boy who showed some very red flags she was blissfully oblivious to. But over the past months, Charles, who had always been worse than Pierre in this matter, started going overboard, especially when Y/N had a date.

It started off innocent enough; Charles would ask her to share her location whenever she went out with a guy, a sweet sentiment, really. After a text asking for help and, consequently, an interference from Charles, he seemed to decide it’d be better if he stuck close. And soon, Charles was always present at her dates. In the beginning, he would just hang around the location and watch the interactions from a distance. Then, watching turned into introducing himself because he “wanted to make sure if the guy’s any good”, which turned into full-on conversations and joining her dates. Frankly, it was ridiculous. He’d just grab a chair from a nearby table and join the conversation, ‘subtly’ mentioning how he’d been friends with Y/N for years, and how he’d always be her number one – “right?” 

To no one’s surprise, there wouldn’t be a second date, the poor guy would be scared shitless as Charles talked about the power he wielded in Monaco and online, not to mention, all the contacts he had. Somehow, he always knew someone from the company her dates’ worked at. More often than not, their boss, and he didn’t hesitate to mention it.

Y/N had tried to stop him, she truly had. Whenever he’d interrupted another one of her dates, and Charles would drive her home because there was no need to take a taxi when he was already there, as Charles put it, she’d ask him why he’d intimidated another one of her dates. He’d just tell her that they weren’t good enough for her, and at the glare she’d send him, he’d apologise. Y/N would know she should have pushed further than that, because the situation kept recurring, but the sad look on his face when she’d tell him off, and the puppy eyes he’d give her when he parked outside her apartment building would make her reconsider. Charles was her best friend after all, and she didn’t want to hurt him. The situation was predictable and repetitive, and she kept letting herself get fooled.

At the lack of effect her talks had, she was determined to try a different approach. That’s when Y/N decided not to tell Charles about her dates any longer. What he didn’t know wouldn’t harm him, and she could go on dates without interruptions. That didn’t mean Pierre didn’t know about them, though. With the physical distance between them and Pierre, he could keep a secret and she needed someone to talk to about her dates. And Charles’ idea of sending her location was something she wanted to keep going, just in case.

That was the plan for tonight, too. She was going on a date, and with Charles unaware and hopefully distracted by his dinner with the visiting Pierre and Kika, she’d hopefully have a normal, relaxed first date without any unusual situations. The plan had worked well enough last time, but then again, Pierre wasn’t anywhere near Charles then and God knows he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

Y/N drove home quickly from Charles’ place, hopping in the shower before she got ready for her date. She’d met the man at her regular cafe while she was grabbing her morning drink, it was a real meet cute: she’d bumped into him and spilt her tea over his white shirt. He was kind about the mishap, cute, and, most importantly, willing to take her out. 

Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror as she put on her necklace, making sure that everything was in place before she grabbed her phone. She texted Pierre her live location and asked him one last time what restaurant he was at, just to check that she was going someplace else.

The boys were already at dinner with Kika when she sent her message. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly took it out to read her message. He smiled at the text. As opposed to what Charles had just told him, that Y/N wasn’t feeling well and needed a night alone, she apparently needed to make sure her date was someplace else than where they were. It was a smart move, and he knew that she’d managed before, but to lie so blatantly to Charles, especially when Pierre had to spend the rest of the night maintaining that lie, was bold. Pierre subtly showed the message to Kika, who stifled a laugh.

You didn’t tell Charles you’re on a date? He typed back before placing his phone on the table.

Y/N’s reply was blunt: Cha doesn’t need to know.

The buzz of his phone caught Pierre’s attention, and Charles’ as well. The phone screen lit up, displaying the new message. A frown formed on Charles’ face as he read it, quickly snatching the phone from the table to make sure he read it correctly.

“What don’t I need to know?” He said, keeping the phone out of Pierre’s reach while he scrambled to get it back. What weren’t his friends telling him?

Pierre’s nerves shot up at the question and he looked at Kika for help. She jumped in without hesitation, always willing to help out her friend. “Well, Charles, she didn’t want you to know, we didn’t want you to know, that Y/N’s at home right now, working on—”

The phone pinged again, and Charles’ eyes shot from Kika’s face to phone in a split second, flitting over the new message.

You know how he gets about my dates…

Charles’ jaw tightened. “She’s on a date?” He asked lowly, “Why can’t I know she’s on a date?”

Pierre cleared his throat nervously. “Well, you do have a history of… scaring off her dates,” Pierre trails off, nervously glancing at Kika for help.

Kika nodded in agreement. She completely supported Y/N in this decision. If it’d been her, she would’ve given Charles a good telling-off months ago, but Y/N was too sweet for that. It was good that he knew the truth now; maybe he’d realise a change was needed.

“Do you know where she is? What restaurant? Or are they somewhere else?”

“Charles—”

“I know you know. Tell me.”

Pierre sighed. “Let’s just finish dinner first, and then we’ll go together, okay? Just to check the guy out from a distance,” he emphasised, hoping that was clear enough. Pierre knew Y/N wouldn’t like it, but it’d be better if he stayed with Charles. He could prevent him from doing something stupid.

Charles grumbled in agreement, quickly finishing his meal, and immediately refusing dessert when the waiter asked, before slamming some cash on the table and leaving the restaurant.

– – – – –

The two boys trailed outside the restaurant, peering inside through the window while Kika sat in the car – she refused to engage in such childish behaviours. Charles had spotted Y/N in no time. The perfectly fitted dress she was wearing, with the matching jewellery Charles had bought her a few months ago, and her hair up into a pretty updo would catch anybody’s eye. She was giggling at something the guy had said, reaching for his hand that lay still on the table until she touched it. Charles clenched his jaw so hard he feared he’d break a tooth. What was that man thinking – touching his best friend like that? Making her laugh? 

Charles scoffed before standing upright and marching right into the restaurant. He walked straight past the hostess' stand and past her table before he backed up.

“What—Y/N? What are you doing here?” He spluttered, feigning surprise at her presence. She looked up from her menu at the familiar voice, her jaw slack in surprise. How had he found out? Why hadn’t Pierre stopped him? 

He walked closer to the table. “How are you? Thought you were staying in tonight?”

“Charles,” Y/N greeted with fake enthusiasm. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Ah yes, we changed restaurants. Who is this?” He nodded to the man across from her.

“Oh, this is Tom. Tom, this is Charles. He’s a good friend of mine,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“You could say best friend. We’ve known each other for all our lives, I can’t remember a time when Y/N wasn’t there,” Charles said as he shook Tom’s hand, forcing a fake laugh out before he grabbed a chair from an empty table and sat down.

“So, how did you guys meet? I’ve never heard of you before, Tim,” Charles continued, grabbing a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

The man across from him eyed Y/N carefully. She was smiling forcefully, scratching her head as she sighed, but made no effort to get rid of Charles, so Tom smiled awkwardly at the new presence. “We met at a cafe. Also, it’s Tom.”

Charles chewed on his bread as he nodded excessively. “Hm, a cafe? Do you prefer coffee or tea?” He said before flagging a waiter down and asking for a drink.

“Charles—” Y/N tried to interrupt him, to tell him to leave, to not frighten her date, to not make himself so comfortable while he was so rudely imposing on her date. How had he even found out in the first place? 

“You know, coffee’s really not good for your health. Caffeine and such – can be addicting, give you headaches if you suddenly stop drinking it… Do you get headaches, Tim?”

“Uh—” Tom mumbled nervously while Y/N hid her face in her hands.

Charles opened his mouth to continue when Pierre slapped his hands on Charles’ shoulders. “We should go, Charles,” he told him, pushing him forward off the chair.

“I’m sure we can stay for a bit longer, right Y/N? Get to know your boyfriend for a bit?” Charles said genuinely hoping Y/N would want him to stay. Instead, she shook her head.

“Let’s go, Charles,” Pierre said forcefully, pushing his friend out of the restaurant. Charles could just barely hear the faint sounds of Y/N apologising to her date as Pierre walked him out. The apologetic tone in her voice as she told him how incredibly sorry she was her friends had interrupted – that they weren’t usually like that, that they’re just protective – almost made him feel bad, except she shouldn’t be dating random guys.

He knew it bothered her, the way he always interrupted her dates, but he just couldn’t seem to let it go. She’s his best friend, he just wanted her to be safe, to make sure the guys were good enough. And frankly, Y/N had never picked out a good guy; Charles could treat her better than every single one of them. If she’d paid attention, she’d know that too. She’d have noticed that he’d buy anything she wanted for her: clothes, jewellery (although it wasn’t intended to be worn on dates with strangers), food and drinks. He’d spend all his money on her if she’d allow it, but she didn’t. The fact that she liked him because of him and not his money, only made him want to do it more. But even besides materialistic things, he always made time for her, no matter how busy he was. He would cook for her every night if it weren’t a risk to their health, and organise movie nights, or other activities. Regardless, she never seemed to notice his attraction to her.

“What happened to watching from a distance, huh mate?” Pierre teased before getting in the car and driving the man home.

– – – – –

To say Y/N was upset would be an understatement. The incident at the date frustrated her immensely. She had told Charles, many times, that he shouldn’t interrupt her dates, yet for some reason he kept doing it – apparently, she had been too subtle. Tom was a good guy too; he was kind and respectful and seemed caring enough, and, now, because Charles had interrupted their date, he had refused a second date. He had scared off yet another one of her prospective boyfriends. The situation needed to come to an end, and apparently, not telling Charles about her dates and correcting him wasn’t good enough.

It was a few (dateless) weeks later when she had finally thought of a plan to put an end to Charles’ antics. She was staying over at her cousin’s for a few days after some heavy rainfall and water damage in her own apartment – the perfect opportunity. It had taken barely any convincing to get him to participate; as soon as she told him about the recurring issue he agreed she needed to take action.

Y/N knew Charles and Pierre were hanging out together; she’d seen the paparazzi pictures on social media, and knew that if she’d send Pierre something about being at someone else’s place, Charles would find out about it soon enough. After all, that was what happened last time as well, even though it took some time to get Pierre to admit it was his fault Charles found out about her date. So, in agreement with her cousin, she took a picture.

They were sitting on the couch, watching TV, when she posed against him, her head lying on her cousin’s chest as she smiled for the photo. His chin was just barely visible in the picture, as was his arm lying along her shoulders. Without a second thought, she sent it to Pierre, hoping her idea would work out exactly as she’d planned.

She saw Charles' status switch to online just a few seconds later. Y/N held her breath as she watched the small dots bounce at the bottom of her phone screen. Charles was typing, then stopping, then typing again, like he couldn’t decide how to start. It almost made her laugh – he was so wound up, like he thought she’d actually gone home with a stranger tonight. All she had to do now, was wait.

Finally, his message came through. Where are you?

She bit her lip to stifle her giggle. She waited a few minutes, just to let him sit in his worry, before sending back a message. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed at the text, showing it to Pierre. “What’s this? She’s busy?” He mumbled angrily while Pierre chuckled silently. Whereas Charles was too wrapped up in his worry and frustration to recognise the prank, Pierre knew immediately what was happening.

He responded. Who are you? Where’s Y/N?

He chewed on his lip as he anxiously awaited her answer. It took way too long before the message was read, and even longer before the typing bubble appeared.

Doesn’t matter. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed again. Who was this infuriating man and what was he thinking, just answering Y/N’s phone like that?

Busy with who?

She’s in good hands. Don’t worry, man.

Y/N giggled at her message while Charles gnawed at his lip. This was not good. Y/N was at some stranger’s house, nobody knew where, and the guy was in charge of her phone. This was bad, real bad. He needed to find her, to make sure she was safe.

Give her back her phone. I need to talk to her.

She’s busy.

Charles groaned in annoyance before calling her. The phone rang a few times but no one picked up.

Where’s she? I’m coming over.

Y/N giggled at her phone when she saw the text. This was too funny, and a face-to-face confrontation would make it even better. She sent him her cousin’s address, curious to see if he’d actually come over.

Not five minutes passed before a loud, rapid knock sounded at the door. Y/N’s cousin shook his head in disbelief. “You weren’t kidding. This guy is intense,” he said before opening the door.

Charles towered over the shorter man in the door opening. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, his voice dark and aggressive as he pushed his way past him. His eyes flicked around the room until they landed on her, sprawled out on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket and watching TV, seemingly completely unbothered.

“Hey, Cha. What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to keep up the innocent act.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why are you at some random guy’s house? You know that’s not safe!”

She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! This could’ve gone incredibly wrong, that guy could’ve murdered you and no one would have known where you were!”

God, he was so infuriating. Always bothering her on her dates, and now he’s yelling at her over a prank while she’s in her cousin’s house, it’s ridiculous, frankly.

“Don’t shout at me, Charles! Are you crazy?” She huffed. “You’re coming over here in a frenzy for nothing. It’s just a prank, I wanted to see how far you’d go. This is my cousin.” She pointed to the boy still standing by the door opening, who was very amused at the situation. 

Charles froze, the tension in his jaw loosening as confusion replaced his anger. His gaze darted between Y/N and her cousin, piecing together what she’d just said. “Your cousin?” he repeated, as though the words didn’t compute.

“Yes, Charles. My cousin. You know, family? Not some random murderer or creepy guy. You’ve met him before actually, at my birthday last year!” Y/N replied, her tone sharp as she threw off the blanket and stood up.

Charles’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he avoided her gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, how was I supposed to know? The photo—you didn’t say anything—”

“Exactly! That was the point!” Y/N interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. “Charles, do you even hear yourself? Do you realise how insane this is? I can’t even go on a normal date without you barging in and acting like you’re my overprotective father!”

He flinched at her words but didn’t respond immediately. Her cousin took this as his cue to leave.

“Y/N, I was just looking out for you,” Charles finally mumbled, his voice quieter now. “You don’t understand—these guys you meet—”

“No, Charles, you don’t understand!” She shot back, cutting him off again. “I don’t need you to protect me like this. I’m not a child, and you’re not my bodyguard. You’ve been ruining my dates for months, and I’ve had enough.”

Charles’s fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the words. “I’m just trying to look after you! You deserve better than these guys, Y/N!”

“Why do you even care so much?” She demanded, her voice rising. “What’s it to you if I date someone? Why do you act like you’ve got some kind of say in my love life?”

Charles’s lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. His mind raced, but the words he needed wouldn’t form. How could he explain it? How could he tell her the truth – that he cared because he couldn’t bear the thought of her being with someone else? That he’d been selfish, sabotaging her dates because the idea of her falling for someone else drove him mad? 

“Well?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer.

“I—I just…” He looked at her, the frustration and vulnerability clear in his eyes. “Because I’m in love with you, okay?”

Y/N blinked in silence, her anger evaporating as shock took its place. “What?” She whispered.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated, softer this time. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. And seeing you with other guys—it’s torture. I know I’ve gone too far, but I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Of all the things she’d expected, this wasn’t one of them. Her breath caught as she processed his words. All the pieces suddenly clicked into place; the protectiveness, the jealousy, the way he always went out of his way to make her happy. It had been in front of her the whole time, and she hadn’t seen it. “Charles, I—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, his voice full of regret. “I know I’ve been an idiot, and if you don’t feel the same, I’ll back off. I just… I’m sorry.”

“Charles,” she said softly, stepping closer to him. He looked up, searching her eyes for any indication of what she would say, of how she felt. “I wish you’d just told me sooner. Maybe then we could’ve avoided all this.”

His brows furrowed.

She smiled at his confused expression. “I mean, I like you too, I love you too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… you have?”

“Yes, you idiot,” she said, laughing softly. “Why do you think I’ve put up with all your nonsense?

Charles let out a breathless laugh, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head before running a hand over his face in frustration. “I’ve spent all this time… and I could’ve just…” he mumbled as he stared at her, trailing off in thought. kissed her, I could’ve just kissed her, he finished in his mind.

“I could’ve just…” he mumbled again, staring intently as he moved to hold her face, pulling it just a little closer. He looked into her eyes, gauging her reaction as his lips neared hers, as he could feel her short breaths on his face. She didn’t protest, didn’t show any intent to move, if anything, she came closer, brushing her lips softly against Charles’ while her eyelids fluttered closed. 

Charles couldn’t hold back any longer, pressing his lips to hers softly, hesitantly until he felt her hands slip up his chest. He could feel her fingertips pressing into his muscle as she pulled him closer, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as her fingers faintly passed the skin until they reached his hair.

It felt surreal, this was what he’d been wanting for months. He was absorbed in the moment, not noticing anything but the feeling of her, the scent of her, and the joy she gave him. In that moment it all centred around her – he realised his whole world revolved around her.

[mymoodwriting]

5.7k, yandere themes, creep behavior, minor stalking, abuse, manipulation, alcohol consumption, drugs, non-con, dub-con, smut, somnophilia, fingering, penetration, cream pie, overstimulation, implied hostage, implied kidnapping, implied forced impregnation (@starillusion13)

“Oh, I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from the gentleman over there.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see a gentleman dressed in a white suit and red hair reading a book in a corner booth. You had seen him here earlier in the day, and on previous nights. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to accept a drink from him.

“Uh… he’s kinda been creeping and-”

“He’s the owner.”

“What?”

“That’s Jung Jaehyun, owner of the hotel.” The bartender explained. “He likes to spend his free time in the bar area or do some simple work here. He enjoys seeing the type of people who stay at his hotel and on occasion buys drinks for them too. Technically this is on the house.”

“Ah…”

“I can make you something else if you’d like.”

“No, that’s alright. It doesn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Of course. Then may I ask, what brings you to the area? Work or vacation?”

“Unfortunately work.” You took a sip of the drink, liking the taste. “My company sent me here for a business conference. Just a few more days then I can go home.”

“You’re not one for travel?”

“Not really. I like sleeping in my own bed.”

“Fair. I can’t argue with that. Although I do hope you’ve been enjoying your stay.”

“Yeah, this place is nice. I like the style.” You yawned, checking the time. “Gosh, I feel so tired, perhaps I should head to bed.”

“Would you like a wake up call? You can give me your room number and a time to call. It’s a hotel service to help you not sleep in.”

“Oh, that would be nice. I’m in 2146, and 6 am would be a good time to call.”

“I’ll make a note for the front desk. Have a good night, miss…?”

“Y/n, the name’s y/n.”

“Good night, y/n.”

The bartender bowed and you finished up your drinking heading upstairs to wash up and rest. It wasn’t that late, but you certainly felt tired, the day had been more draining than you realized. Still, you had work in the morning, so better to get a good night’s sleep.

🖤

Jaehyun kept his attention on the book in hand, even as a drink was placed on his table by the bartender. One he hadn’t ordered.

“Y/n, room 2146, here on behalf of her company for a conference, and requested a 6 am wake up call that I shall handle. She’s only staying a few more days. The room is a one bedroom, and she checked in alone. In approximately ten minutes she’ll be out cold.”

“Thank you, Mr. Suh.”

“Of course, sir.” 

Jaehyun reached for the glass as the bartender walked away, taking a sip before checking the time. He made a note and returned to his book. A few minutes later he set it down and made his way up to the room number he had been given. He checked the time once more as he got off the elevator. He stood before the door number 2146, knocking. There was no response so he knocked again. He subtly glanced at the cameras and examined the hall, he was alone. Once he confirmed that he pressed his ear to the door, listening. It was silent. He glanced around once more before pulling out his master key card and unlocking the door, stepping in gracefully.

He moved quietly, slowly shutting the door and then walking further into the room. He stopped as he registered the sounds of running water. He glanced at his watch, moving cautiously until he saw a half dressed woman lying on the bed. As he got closer he could see they appeared to be sleeping. He snapped his fingers by their ear, getting no reaction at all, then checked for a pulse. It was steady and calm. His prey wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Jaehyun took in the woman before him, reaching down to finish what she had started, stripping her bare and laying her down properly on the bed. His hands gently caressed bits of exposed skin, so far, he liked what he had. 

“Y/n… very beautiful.”

After a moment he went to the bathroom, switching the shower head off and opting to fill the tub. He waited until the water was warm before going to retrieve you. He easily carried you bridal style towards the bathroom, setting you down in the tub. He rolled up his sleeves, getting some items from under the bathroom sink so he could properly wash you up. He was gentle and took his time, admiring your beauty from up close. Although as he scrubbed down your chest he slowed down. His fingers gliding over your belly and then going lower, dipping between your legs. He felt around gently, watching your reaction as he slowly teased you. The little helpless noises you made, reacting to the stimulus but unable to properly wake up.

Jaehyun kept at it, his thumb rubbing your clit. He wanted to do a bit more, ultimately deciding to pull you out of the tub and into his arms. He didn’t care if he got wet, keeping an arm around you and sitting you between his legs, his fingers dipping back down to tease you before pushing to digits inside. You let out a low moan, your hips starting to gently shake. He worked you over slowly, finding that sweet spot and rubbing against it. You whimpered, squirming around in his embrace as your breathing became uneven. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in but refraining from leaving marks. He brought you to climax on his fingers alone, reveling in the afterglow of your body.

Although he knew he couldn’t stay like this for too long. Eventually he got you back in the tub and finished your bath. He drained the tub and dried you off, changing you into your pajamas and then tucking you into bed. He held himself back from placing a kiss on your head, deciding to stay a moment longer to gaze at your sleeping form. He cleaned himself up and made sure to leave no trace of his presence before quietly exiting the room. It was still late in the night, so the halls were empty and he simply returned back down to the bar. He got to the table he had left, grabbing the drink and taking a seat once more. A moment later Mr. Suh came over.

“How did it go?”

“She’s the one.”

“Ah, congratulations, I’ll keep that in mind. Can I get you anything else tonight?”

“No, thank you.”

“Of course.”

🖤

You jumped awake at the sound of the phone ringing on your nightstand. You were still half awake as you reached over to answer the phone.

“… hello…?”

“Good morning, I’m calling as you requested a 6am wake up call.”

“… wake up call… 6am… yes, yes, I did, thank you.”

“Have a good day, ma’am.”

“You too.”

You hung up and grabbed your head, vague memories of last night finally surfacing. You had been down at the bar and asked the bartender about a wake up call, just to be safe. You remembered coming up to wash up and head to bed, but you couldn’t remember much of that part. It was weird, but it didn’t matter. You could tell you had cleaned up, and clearly had gotten to bed. Once that was out of your mind you got up, getting ready for another day at work.

🖤

On days Jaehyun wasn’t in the hotel he was out with investors and taking care of other hotel business. He didn’t do much with his time outside of his work, but he intended to change that eventually. After a day of being out he finally returned to his hotel, although later than he wanted to. He made his way to the bar, looking around for a familiar face. The last few days you had come to the bar to unwind after a long day, so it was odd to not see you. He went up to the bar to inquire.

“Johnny, have you-”

“She was drinking with a new friend. The two went up together a few minutes ago.”

“What!”

“From what I gathered they went up to her room. Although,” Johnny checked his watch. “They should both be out in about five minutes.”

Jaehyun didn’t need to hear anything else, making his way up to your room. He was trying to contain his own annoyance, but it was difficult. He shrugged off his jacket and other items as he walked down the hall. When he got to your door he knocked aggressively, not stopping until the door opened. A random male opened the door and Jaehyun immediately threw a punch, knocking them to the ground. They didn’t move afterwards and Jaehyun stepped over them, shutting the door behind him. 

He didn’t care to be subtle this time, but didn’t find you in the room. He noticed the bathroom door closed, and found it to be locked. He knocked, but got no response, opting to break out down. Once it was open he found you sitting on the floor, passed out. He quickly checked to make sure you hadn’t injured yourself, and thankfully you hadn’t. He picked you up, carrying you over to your bed and laying you down. Just like before he knew you’d be out till morning, but first he had to deal with the other. He reached for the phone on the nightstand, dialing the bar.

“Hello?”

“I need clean up in room 2146.”

“Right away, sir.”

You still needed to clean up, and Jaehyun would take care of that once the other problem was dealt with. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Jaehyun answered. Johnny offered a smile and pushed in a cart, he didn’t ask questions and just dealt with the unconscious body in the room while Jaehyun took care of you. He ran another bath for you, just washing you up this time and getting you into bed. Afterwards he made sure to clean up and leave no traces. Tomorrow morning may be confusing, but at least he’d know that no one touched you.

🖤

The next morning your phone rang once again at 6am, and you groggily answered. It was annoying, but also necessary. Just like last time you sat with your head in your hands for a few minutes, trying to get your mind in order. You could have sworn you had been chatting with someone last night and were intending to have some fun, but you didn’t remember much after heading up to your room. You only had one drink, and you watched the bartender make it in front of you too. Although, you didn’t feel sore or any lingering sensations. Maybe you had just been hopeful and delusional after a long day.

Now it was time to get up and do it all again. You groaned and got out of bed, preparing for the day. At least this trip was almost over. You made your way to the convention center, greeting your coworkers and helping set up. There were a few panels you’d be attending, and lots more mingling to do. Even though the day went by rather fast, exhaustion didn’t hit til you were back at the hotel. A simple drink after a long day was nice, so you always found yourself going to the hotel bar. The bartender greeted you, asking what you would like this time. You asked for something new, and to be surprised. He was pretty good at his job.

“Here you are. Will you be drinking alone again?”

“Was I drinking with someone last night?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Hm…”

“Why? Did you have someone with you?”

“Not sure… but it doesn’t matter.”

“Perhaps you could use some company.”

“You’ve been great company, Mr. Suh.”

“You can just call me, Johnny. Although I am flattered, listening and storytelling is part of a bartender’s duties, but I wasn’t speaking about myself.”

“Oh, then what were you referring to?”

“I think you know.”

Johnny gestured behind you, and you cautiously looked back, eyes landing on a particular table. There was the hotel owner, Jaehyun, engrossed in a book and sitting all by himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

“I doubt he’d mind. Besides, I do think he likes you.”

“Ah… well… it would be weird…”

“Not entirely.” Johnny placed a drink on the table. “Could you give this to him for me, it’s his favorite.”

“Sure.”

You gave Johnny a goofy smile and grabbed the drink, taking your own as well. With every step you took you realized it was too late to back out. Jaehyun didn’t look up from his book as you placed down his drink. You could probably leave and he’d be none the wiser, but you were already here.

“… what are you reading?”

There was a moment of silence that led you to believe he was ignoring you, but then he looked up. When he caught a look at your face he smiled, setting his book down.

“A satirical horror novel. There is a movie adaptation, but many things get lost in translation so I rather look into the source material.”

“How sophisticated of you.”

“I suppose. Would you like to join me for a drink?”

“If I’m not bothering you.”

“Of course not, sit, please.”

“Thank you.” 

You slid into the booth, sitting across from Jaehyun. You set your drink down, starting to feel a bit nervous and shy. From the beginning you knew he was handsome, even if you thought him to be a creep at first, but now that you had his attention you couldn’t help feeling flushed.

“So… I was told you’re the hotel owner.”

“That is correct.”

“What’s that like, running a hotel?”

“Busy, or at least I like to be involved with as much of the inner workings as possible.”

“A very hands-on approach.”

“Indeed. I want my staff to feel like they can rely on me. Whenever something happens I want to know, even if it can be resolved without my interference. I want to assure all our guests enjoy their stay.”

“Well, I certainly have so far. I love the design, and the service is nice. I’d say you’ve done well here. Do you intend to expand into a franchise?”

“I’m not honestly interested in that. This land was given to me by my father, and I was given the freedom to do what I wanted with it.”

“Wow, so why a hotel? Why not something with more potential for high income, like a shopping mall?”

“I did consider it, but I wanted to focus more on the people. One can go shopping in many places, but having a safe place to rest after a long day seems more important. This area gets a lot of people passing through, so there’s a lot of competition in regards to consumer goods. A hotel was more appropriate in my eyes.”

“Hm, when you put it like that, I see what you mean. A hotel was a simpler idea, and your values are up front. Very impressive.”

“I do my best. What about you? If you don’t mind me asking, what has brought you here?”

“Work. I’ve been representing my company at this convention in town. They wanted someone from another branch to participate, so they sent me.”

“Has it been any fun?”

“Uh, well I guess it has its moments, but work is work.”

“True, I’m sure you’ve been doing well.”

“I hope my boss sees it that way too.”

“Let me know if not, I’ll have a word with them.”

“I don’t think that would work, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Then, might I be so bold as to ask you out for dinner? I know a wonderful place nearby.”

“Dinner?”

“You’ve been in the area for work purposes, I fear you haven’t enjoyed yourself much.”

“You’d be right there.”

“So, what do you say?”

“I suppose dinner couldn’t hurt. It’d be better than dining alone.”

“Wonderful. Come with me.”

Jaehyun stood and offered you his hand. You took it with a smile, letting him hook your arms together and leading you out. It was summertime in the area, so the night was comfortably warm. You didn’t really need to change as you were already dressed in business attire, but you felt that maybe you should have given where Jaehyun took you. The restaurant seemed to be rather high class, and you felt like you were severely undressed. Still, Jaehyun made no comment and walked in, going up to the host and giving his name. They welcomed him and you were escorted to a table, getting looks from those in the waiting area.

“Did you… make a reservation?”

“No. I always have a table here. Usually I dine alone, but I’m grateful for the company tonight.”

“I see… thanks for inviting me.”

You were shown to a nice table, Jaehyun pulling out your chair for you. He was such a gentleman, making you realize how wrong your initial impression of him was. The waiter returned with a menu, and you didn’t see any prices. You figured you’d just enjoy yourself for the moment and worry about the bill later. Jaehyun suggested wine, but you still had work tomorrow, and your one drink was enough. He respected that and didn’t get any alcohol either. While you ate you talked a bit more about yourself, and asked about his life. You two were from very different worlds, and tonight you were getting a small glimpse.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Jaehyun covered the bill, you never even saw how much the total was. He wasn’t going to tell you, nor accept any amount of money from you. For him, your company was well worth a meal. You both walked with your arms hooked together back to the hotel, Jaehyun escorting you to your room as you continued your conversation. 

“So, you’ve always lived around here. You don’t travel?”

“I haven’t had a reason to.”

“You haven’t gotten bored of the same places?”

“This is my home, I could never grow bored with it. I quite like it here, what about you?”

“Hm. I haven’t seen too much, but it does seem like a nice place to settle down in.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

“Ah, I see. You’ve planted roots here, and don’t intend to leave.”

“Not really.”

“I admire that. Many talk about seeing the world and experiencing all kinds of things, but I see the happiness and peace about staying in a place you know. It has a certain type of stability and comfort one could grow accustomed to.”

“It does.”

“Okay, well, this is me. Thanks for tonight, I had a lovely time.”

“If you’d like, I would enjoy taking you out for dinner again tomorrow night.”

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

“Please do, have a good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Jaehyun.”

🖤

The days felt the same, but the night always seemed to be different. Although you found yourself with some unfortunate luck this time. A certain guest from the conference wanted your attention. They asked questions about your employer and normal stuff, but as the day came to an end he started asking about your evening plans. He wanted to take you out, show you around, but you kept declining. Still, it seemed he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.

“Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but I already have dinner plans.”

“Do you, now? With who?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“Well, maybe I think you’re lying to get out of me treating you to a nice meal.”

“I’ve politely refused you one too many times now, please leave.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. I just want to make sure your supposed plans are with a good person.”

“They are.”

“And who might they be?”

“A hotel owner.”

“Oh really? That’s far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“It’s the truth!”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you!”

“Keep it down, wouldn’t want to cause a scene. Come on, show me this date of yours, and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

You honestly didn’t want to blur things out, but you brought up Jaehyun before you could stop yourself. You probably did sound like a liar, but this guy wasn’t really gonna believe anything. He was the real creep. You didn’t agree to anything and just got your things and left. Of course he followed behind you as you returned to your hotel. You just had to ignore him and find Jaehyun. Although you were nervous. When you got to the hotel you went over to the bar. Johnny had told you that Jaehyun usually hung around here, but there was always a chance that today he wouldn’t be present.

“So, where is your date?”

“Uh… he… Jaehyun!”

To your immediate relief you saw Jaehyun at one of the booths, chatting with Johnny. When you called his name he looked your way, offering you a smile. You rushed over to him, grabbing his arm and getting him to his feet. He seemed confused, but before he could ask he noticed the other guy that had walked over.

“So, this is your date?”

“Yes. This is Jaehyun, we have dinner plans tonight. So you can be on your way.”

“Just like that?”

“You got your proof so-”

“What’s going on, y/n?” Jaehyun interrupted. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, this guy just… wanted to escort me to you, to make sure I was safe.”

“Ah, I see, well, thank you, I can take it from here.”

“I suppose so, and uh, what is your profession again?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Amuse me.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You’re standing in my hotel, and now I’d like you to leave. If you’d prefer, I can have you escorted out.”

“No need, have a good night.”

You kept your composure, glad to see the smirk get wiped off the guy’s face when Jaehyun confirmed he was the hotel owner. Although once he was gone your legs gave out, Jaehyun quickly grabbed you and sat you down.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t a nice escort.”

“Yeah… sorry to put you on the spot like that…”

“Well, you weren’t lying. We did have dinner plans, unconfirmed, but existent.”

“True, thank you.”

“Of course. Although I’m not so sure dinner is a good idea.”

“Probably… rain check?”

“Or, we can have something brought to my room. I promise the room service isn’t bad.”

“I believe you… that’s probably better, I do owe you for the favor.”

“Don’t think of it that way. We’re just two friends enjoying a meal. Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“Thanks.”

You could walk on your own, but the nerves were still winding down, so you were kinda slow. Jaehyun didn’t have a problem with it, walking at your pace, and making sure you were alright with dinner. If you rather return to your room he’d take you. It was nice, but you didn’t really want to be alone that night. Of course you went up to the penthouse suite, seeing how much bigger Jaehyun’s room was. One could easily live in comfort here.

“Your place is nice.”

“Thank you.”

Jaehyun got you a menu and let you pick something out, placing the call as well. His room had a nice skyline view that you sat down to enjoy, watching the city grow dark and then light up. Jaehyun did ask again if you were alright given your earlier encounter, and you assured him you were fine, at least now you were. When the food arrived he went to answer the door, bringing in the cart and setting out the plates. He wasn’t wrong, the food in the hotel was good, and he of course ordered some wine, something to help you with the nerves. After eating the two of you were just staring out into the night, mindlessly talking.

“So, let me guess, you have some top chef in your kitchen?”

“Not some big name, but the people in my kitchen are passionate about what they do.”

“You’re a lot kinder than I would have imagined.”

“Is that so?”

“Sorry, I don’t mean that to sound weird or anything. A lot of people in your position wouldn’t be as hands on or caring as you are. It’s nice to see someone with a good heart.”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s true. I honestly thought you were a bit of a creep, hanging around the bar all alone, but now that I know you better, I see why you do it.”

“Sorry for giving you the wrong impression.”

“That’s on me for making assumptions. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Me too.”

The wine had certainly mellowed you out a bit, and with the way you were talking, it only felt natural to lean in for a kiss. Of course everything could have fallen apart in that moment, but instead Jaehyun seemed to share in your emotions, leaning in to kiss you back. It started soft and gentle, both of you hesitant, but since neither of you backed away, things only got deeper. Jaehyun leaned in closer, taking the glass from your hand and setting it down. He was pushing you down on the couch, slowly moving on top of you. After a moment you placed your hands on his chest, and he immediately stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh… are… are you sure this is okay?”

Jaehyun chuckled. “You kissed me first, but I would like to continue.”

“Okay… sorry… just checking…”

“Nothing wrong with that. How about we move to the bedroom?”

You didn’t really answer, just shyly nodding your head. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek and got off you, picking you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. Just as expected, the room was luxurious, and the sheets beneath you were so soft. Jaehyun took his shirt off before leaning back in for a kiss. His hands trailed down your body, moving slowly and softly as he began to undress you. One piece after the other came off, exposing you to his touch. Soon enough Jaehyun began pressing his lips against any piece of flesh he could, leaving a trail as he moved around. He eventually moved you further up on the bed to lay down, properly undressing himself and climbing on top of you. His lips trailed along your neck, hands along your chest, reaching to massage your breasts and tease your nipples. You started moaning in his ear, encouraging him to keep going and to do more.

“Y/n…”

“Hm?”

“We need a safe word.”

“Safe word?” You grabbed Jaehyun’s face, meeting his gaze. “What are you gonna do?”

“Worship you… but I need to know when you’d truly want me to stop… unless you don’t even want to start…”

“No, no, I do… uh… how about dandelion?”

“I like that.”

With your permission Jaehyun continued, leaving you curious as to what he had in mind that needed a safe word. It excited you, making you all the more eager. As Jaehyun’s hands trailed down he got to your thigh, messaging them and spreading them apart. His fingers ran along your core, teasing you gently.

“You’re wet, that’s good.”

He was only a tease for a bit before pushing a finger inside, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. He moved slowly and with patience you couldn’t stand, but he didn’t want to hurt. He told you to be patient and enjoy yourself as he’d take care of everything. You did as he asked, gently rocking your hips to get more, glad when he added a second digit, going in deeper and finding that sweet spot. He happily rubbed against it and watched your face contour in pleasure. Every sound that slipped out passed your lips were a delight. When he had added a third finger, really stretching you out, a whine escaped you. It wasn’t enough, but you still had to wait, your pleas being silenced by his lips.

“If you ever want me to stop, use your safe word.”

“Okay.”

You were at Jaehyun’s mercy, your body being teased until he declared you ready. He pushed your legs apart as much as he could without hurting you, positing himself. You felt something big and slimy rubbing against your entrance. Before you could even beg you felt Jaehyun pushing himself into you. Just as slow as his fingers, he moved inside you inch by inch, letting you feel every piece of him. You thought maybe he’d break you, but when he got to the base he let you adjust, making sure you were alright. This was certainly a new experience for you as you’ve never been with someone this big before. He clearly knew this too as he was still such a gentleman.

“You good?”

“Yeah…”

Jaehyun loved the look on your face as you took all of him in. Once you were settled he started moving, going agonizingly slow. He’d pull out nearly all the way before going back in, building up his speed, making sure to rub against your sweet spot everytime. He was professionally breaking you down, sending wave after wave of pleasure, overwhelming your senses to only perceive the joy he brought you. Nonsense spilled from your lips as he got more aggressive, pinning both hands above your head with one arm, the other holding him steady as he rammed into you. The two of you were working up a sweat, but he was clearly still composed. Even without words, your body spoke for you, getting tense and labored breathing letting Jaehyun know you were at the edge. He was more than happy to steal a kiss from you as you reached climax, getting you to moan into his mouth.

Your walls squeezed him tightly, wanting him to reach his own high, yet he held out for longer than you thought. He kept his rhythm steady, his hot breath against your ear making you shiver. The first orgasm already tired you out and made you sensitive, but he wasn’t stopping. Before you knew it he worked you over to another one, making you cry out in pleasure and hold him tight. Only then did he finally spill his seed inside you. In the moment you both were just riding out your high, hips shaking as you tried to milk him for everything he had, and he was more than eager to give it to you. Although as the fog of climax settled down you realized what you had done.

“Fuck… Jaehyun, I’m not on the pill…”

“It’s okay.” Jaehyun breathed. “You can take something in the morning. It’s better this way.”

“If you say so… fuck, two and one… you’ve got stamina and self control.”

“I’m far from done with you.”

“Hm?”

Jaehyun had stayed on top of you, inside you, as you both caught your breath. You were tired out, expecting more of a break, but Jaehyun started moving again. That initial thrust made your eyes roll to the back of your head, not entirely sure you could take another orgasm. Still, you didn’t use the safe word, trusting Jaehyun. He was tired too, but this gave him new energy, and his rather desperate thrusts wrung another climax out of you, making you hold him tightly, your hands digging into his back. You felt so hot and messy, growing limp in Jaehyun’s arms. He held you as you came back down to reality. You thought maybe it was over, just Jaehyun was still rocking into you, just enough to keep you dangling on the edge. He kept at it until he achieved his own orgasm, stealing a kiss from you once more.

“You’re so good for me, baby.”

“You too…”

You hadn’t gone this long before, but you didn’t mind. He was really the best you had ever had, and then he was at it again. You could feel him growing hard inside of you, gently moving his hips to move around all his seed. You didn’t know how he still had the energy, but he was likely very excited to have you if he was getting hard again so quickly. All you could do was surrender yourself to him, letting him drag another orgasm out of you, and then another until they blurred together. It got to a point that even if you wanted to stop, to use the safe word, you were too fucked out to form any words. Perhaps he knew that all along. You tried to grab onto Jaehyun, to speak, but your head was swimming with pleasure. Your vision was starting to fade a bit, eyelashes fluttering as you tried to stay awake.

“It’s alright, darling.” Jaehyun cooed. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Jaehyun watched you shut your eyes, body releasing any last bit of tension. He had tired you out, but he wasn’t done yet. With you unconscious beneath him Jaehyun took a moment to simply admire your body, hands trailing along your form, lingering around your belly. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips and he leaned down to kiss the area.

“Perfect.”

Jaehyun managed a few more rounds with you, even if you weren’t fully awake. He had to be sure you were filled to the brim, that way the possibility of impregnating you was higher. Only once he felt he had done enough did he leave you to rest, not entirely worried about the overflow or you getting up. You wouldn’t be able to leave him anytime soon. He went off to clean up, leaving you to rest in the bedroom and soak up all his love he had left you with. He picked up the remains of dinner, setting the cart outside and then making a call.

“Hello?”

“I’m going to need you to check out the guest in 2146 tomorrow morning.”

“I presume they’ll be in your care now?”

“Just take care of the details.”

“Of course, can I get you anything else?”

“I am going to need some sugar pills.”

“I’ll get some for you right away.”

“Thank you.”

Jaehyun finished up his glass of wine, staring out into the night before returning to the bedroom. You were still asleep, too tired to be getting up anytime soon. He cleaned you up a bit, making sure you were comfortable. Afterwards he laid by your side, keeping a hand on your belly, rubbing it gently.

“All mine… I’ll make you a wonderful mother.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly

I've spent the last five days working on this one.

p.s. it's 2k words...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 

Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.

He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.

‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 

He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 

His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 

‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  

When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 

‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.

Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 

‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 

Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’

‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 

 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?

*

The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 

He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 

He was done.

*

You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 

 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 

Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 

‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 

Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 

‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 

He was trying to dodge the question. 

‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.

‘’Then yes.’’

‘’How many times?’’

‘’Once.’’

His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 

‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’

‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’

‘’But if you had to say.’’

Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.

He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’

*

The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 

The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 

You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 

He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 

So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 

You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 

When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.

Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.

‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 

Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’

‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 

A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.

‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 

‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.

There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 

As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.

And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.

‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 

‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 

It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 

 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’

You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 

The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 

You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.

Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 

‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 

*

The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 

He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 

The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 

Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 

While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 

For the first time, what’s past was past.

‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 

Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

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[creamecafe]

Hello! First of all I want to tell you that I love your writings ❤️ Second, I wanted to ask you if you can't place an order for Hyun-ju. I love that woman. I would like an Angst, I'll leave it to your imagination. thank you ✨✨✨✨

You're The Only Exception

Summary: Between wanting to be accepted and saving a life, Hyun-Ju takes comfort and finds hope in you as the only exception.

Pairing: Hyun-Ju x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: angst, mentions of transphobia, transphobic, guilt, the death of Young-Mi, she deserved better 😭😭

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy it! I didn't know whether to put for angst that people were looking at her weird bc she's trans or her feelings guilty for not saving Young-Mi in time, so I used both

Guys please understand that writing this, I'm a cis woman, AFAB, please do let me know if there's things to change up as I want to get trans representation right.

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

If being in the games was hard for anyone, it would be for Hyun-Ju. Looking for acceptance in a place where you're fighting for your life isn't ideal.

The only comfort and trust she could find was in you and Young-Mi. You felt bad for her as nobody wanted to team up with her or really talk to her. It would be nice to get out of your comfort zone.

For the second game, you teamed up with Hyun-Ju, an old lady and her son, a younger girl named Young-Mi. You survived thank God, but still wanted to know Hyun-Ju more.

Back in the dormitory, she was comfortable telling you and the team about her identity and her whole backstory.

"I accept you Hyun-Ju."

Those words stuck with Hyun-Ju. It's all she ever wanted, to be accepted for who she is.

"You're safe here, you have us."

It was like the family and love have been waiting for her in this place. She just had to look more deeper.

Unfortunately, that comfort wasn't going to last long. For the third game, it was mingle. When the carousel stops spinning, there will be a number on the screen announced and you have to form groups of that number and lock yourself in a room before the timer runs out.

Hyun-Ju made sure to stay with you and Young-Mi, both of you alive and safe. Everything was going well until one round.

You, Hyun-Ju and many other players were running to get to a room safely. Unfortunately, Young-Mi accidentally got pushed and couldn't make it to the door on time.

Hyun-Ju notices this and tries to save her. You looked at the timer, knowing there wouldn't be enough time to save her and you and all the others in the room would be dead.

Another player, Myung-Gi goes in and locks the door. Young-Mi rushes to the door and cries for Hyun-Ju.

Hyun-Ju is yelling for her and the whole thing made you feel bad.

Bang

Young-Mi drops the ground and is unresponsive. Hyun-Ju grabs Myung-Gi by his shirt and starts yelling at him.

"It's your fault! I could have saved her!"

"If you did, you would be dead, and all of us would. What's better 1 dead person or a group of 6 people dead?" Myung-Gi exclaims

He had a point but you just knew Hyun-Ju wanted Young-Mi to live. You also wanted her to live as well.

After the game was over, Hyun-Ju was silent walking back to the dormitory.

You thought it would be best to talk to her as you are starting to become closer with her.

"Hyun-Ju? Are you ok?" Reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, Hyun-Ju turns to you.

"I could have saved her. I should have saved her. She didn't deserve to die." Hyun Ju looks down in shame

"If you went to save her, you would have been dead too then."

"She wanted out of the game Y/N. If I pressed X, instead of O, maybe it would have helped, I should have left the room-"

"It was a hard decision, I know and there wasn't a lot of time left. I wish she made it too, but there's nothing you really can do about it"

"She was one of the first people besides you that really accepted me."

"She would also want you to keep moving forward and get out of here. I do too."

Hyun Ju turns to you

"We'll get out of here and you'll get that surgery, and you'll move to where you want to go. I have faith in you Hyun Ju."

"You do?"

"Yes I do, and you should too"

There was a moment of silence between you too. Hyun-Ju was taking in what you said. For the next vote, she was determined to keep going and survive not only for Young-Mi, but also for you.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?"

"It's like you're the only exception in this place, out of everyone here, I'm glad to have met you and Young-Mi."

"I'm glad too Hyun-Ju, I'm glad too."

She holds out her hand and you take it. You gave it a tight squeeze as reassurance everything will be ok. And it will be.

As long as Hyun-Ju had you, everything and anything felt possible.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld, @magicalconnoisseurcoffee, @dxrlingluv, @ninahorikoshifr

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Hyun-Ju Masterlist | Join my taglist

[mixingandmelting]

hello! may i request for how would the batboys be with an "i'll eat only if you eat too" type of s/o? thank you <3

A/N: I’m not familiar with that trope so I’m assuming it’s the tiktok couple trend? if I interpreted wrong, let me know 😔

Dick: 

As someone who also values the “together” part between couples, it always warms his heart when you insist on eating together. He knows it’s your way of showing how you care for him and his well being as he’s being loved as himself. Not as Nightwing. Not as his civilian persona. If the reverse were to occur, he definitely wouldn’t be able to eat as he’d be feeling that he's being negligent and inconsiderate of you. It’s how he develops the habit to always eat with you whether it’s getting back on time to eat something you cooked or getting take out for two. He always wants to do things with you no matter what it is so he can always be with you and doesn’t want you to ever think you’re lacking or not doing enough. In fact, to him, the way you are is more than enough. You being you was what had him fall head-over-heels for you from the start and he’ll honestly die with a broken heart if you try changing because of him. 

Jason:

Surprising enough, he also understands and appreciates the sentiment. To be fair, when he was caught by Bats after his failed attempt in stealing the tires from the Batmobile, he was treated to a meal at some diner before getting taken in. The appreciation of sharing a meal didn’t come back once he was revived until meeting the Outlaws which then was cemented when he met and envisioned his future with you in it. The first time he got you a meal and not himself was his last as it had led to an argument between the two of you. When you reveal you wanted to make sure he’s also caring for himself, it made him think how he’s not going to be able to find another person who’ll treasure him like you. He does acknowledge that his family cares for him despite their differences, but it won’t match with how his heart speeds up from how you look out for him. Since then, he’s been eating most of his meals with you as he finds food tasting better when he’s with you rather than eating alone like usual. 

Tim:

He is very much aware that he can’t argue against you when it comes to you telling him you’re eating only if he eats. With the number of times you caught him going through energy drinks including the other day when he was on his third can of Celsius, even he admits his diet isn’t exactly healthy. So, it won’t help his case when, at rare moments, he complains about you saying that only to get shot back with your fears and concerns for his health. In those moments, he gets sheepish and gives in from the justification of your argument, ordering something for himself and you when stopping by at a drive-through or pulling himself from his work to head to the table where you set a plate in front of you and him. Most of the time, you aren’t saying that line as he’s already planning ten-steps ahead on where and what the two of you will eat (of course with consideration of your taste) in an attempt to get you to stay with him longer. 

Duke:

He gets where you’re coming from but the reason he pushes back is because he wants to show that he’s dependable and capable of caring for both you and himself. If he’s hungry, he’s going to get himself while asking you if you want something as well. If you aren’t hungry, he gets sneaky and buys something small knowing you’ll want a snack or drink later. When it comes to you and you’re hungry while he isn’t, you are his priority and he’s going to make sure you get fed. He ends up consoling you when he sees the guilt and worry in your eyes, letting himself take a bite of whatever you’re having or a sip. He stops there though, which you have no choice to begrudgingly accept as he promises to go get something if he gets hungry. It’s endearing and he always cracks a smile whenever you tell him that, getting fuzzy from how tender you are to him.

Damian:

He’s the one who won’t get it. It always leads to you two fighting whenever you get stubborn and refuse to eat unless he does. No matter who he had asked so far from Dick to even Tim of all people, he still doesn’t get it. He’s not hungry. You are. So you’re the one who should be eating, why do you need him to eat with you when you’re old enough to feed yourself? There’s nothing hard; it’s pure logic. When you try to explain food tastes better when it’s shared, it never goes well as he simply points out nothing is being done to the food when it’s being shared except for the portion getting smaller. That’s how arguments always go along with the same ending where you’d get fed up and simply stuff his mouth. Cue his expression morphing from offended to reluctant acceptance as he’s awarded with either a grin or blush from you, both equally lovable and adorable. By the time the food is gone, he has been eating as if he’s disgruntled when he’s actually enjoying sharing a meal with you.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Brighter, Sweeter Days

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!baker!reader

Summary: Tim comes to your bakery daily, and you try to brighten his day to get him to notice you. When he finally shows you he has noticed you, there's a lot you have to tell him.

Warnings: minor injuries, fluff!!!

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

A wave of hot air greets you as you open the oven. Pulling the cookie sheet from the left side and a muffin pan from the right, you smell the intermingled brown sugar, maple, and orange. After the hot pans have been safely placed on one of your bakery’s tables, you close the oven and remove your heatproof gloves.

“I really hope you have more maple biscotti because there’s a really cute firefighter and I can’t slip him my number if we can’t fulfill his order,” your employee, Melanie, rambles as she enters the heart of the bakery.

“Just pulled some out of the oven,” you answer. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we can box them, though. Offer to throw in a dozen free cookies or a coffee traveler.”

“Yes, chef!” she calls over her shoulder.

“And stop watching The Bear before work every day,” you murmur as you check the consistency of a new whipped buttercream.

Several years ago, you opened your bakery in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles, and remain shocked at how well it has done. There have been celebrities who travel hours just to try your creations based on the good word of a few locals, you’ve had to close at lunch more than once because you ran out of food, and yet you’ve only been in the front of the bakery a dozen times since opening.

You’re shy, passionate about baking, and less of a people person than most business owners, so you spend your days in the back as your dedicated employees create a friendly and welcoming environment for your customers to come in, enjoy the atmosphere, and try a delicious baked good or slow-roasted coffee.

After the morning rush, during which you make three cakes, drizzle white chocolate on your newest biscotti, and decorate sugar cookies, Melanie returns to the back of the bakery. She sighs and leans on a table.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

“Good. Seemed busier than usual, lots of law enforcement,” she explains, peeking into a mixing bowl.

“Those are scraps from cake pops,” you tell her. “Help yourself.”

“You’re an angel,” she sighs. “A walking, shy so not much into talking, angel.”

You roll your eyes and begin folding chocolate swirls into croissant dough. “And the firefighter?”

“He thought they’d love some coffee but refused to accept it without paying. So, I slipped an angel food cake and my number into his bag.”

You nod and continue working on the croissants, but when Melanie continues to watch you, you know there’s more she isn’t saying. Turning, you set aside the spatula and raise your brows.

“My psych professor moved our exam up and I can’t come in tomorrow,” she explains quickly. “I know it’s your busiest day and I’m so so sorry. I can ask around and see if Cass or somebody can cover me.”

You wave your hand and assure, “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Good luck on your exam, okay? If you want to leave early today to study or get some rest, do that, too.”

“Now I feel worse for leaving you.”

Tim turns his alarm off and sighs. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone. Lucy insisted on bringing cupcakes, and Angela offered to take him to lunch. Tim appreciates their kindness, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to truly celebrate with, besides Kojo, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, of course.

As Tim gets ready, he asks himself what he’d want if he was in a relationship. What would they do that would make today so different? Breakfast in bed is one of the first ideas that pops into his head. So, Tim searches for bakeries that aren’t far out of his way. One five-star option appears on the list, and Tim reads the directions as he walks to his truck.

As Tim walks in, he notices how nice the bakery is. There’s a line, but it moves quickly. He scans the menu on the large chalkboard over the counter as he waits, but he knows what he wants when his eyes drop to the display case.

An employee places another plate in the case, a birthday cake-flavored mini souffle that makes Tim smile. When he reaches the register, he forgets about the cookie that caught his attention.

You take another order and glance at the line. There are two times when you’re so busy it’s hard to remember to breathe, and you’re currently between those. Though you don’t love working here with customers, you do enjoy seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they find their new favorite.

Someone in the line catches your eye. He’s wearing an LAPD shirt, and you assume he’s a higher-ranking officer. He smiles as Mitch places a birthday cake souffle in the display case, and you wonder if it’s his birthday.

“Good morning,” you greet when he reaches the register. “What can I get you today?”

He hesitates for a moment, then asks for one of your jumbo cookies and two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Glancing at the menu, he also adds coffee to his order. You press the buttons for the two dozen cookies and the coffee, but make a note to include the jumbo cookie for free.

“Mitch,” you call when he passes again. “Take over for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” he tells you.

“I’ll grab that for you now,” you tell the attractive cop, whose name you now know is Tim.

“Thanks,” he replies before stepping to the side with his coffee.

You use clean plastic tongs to place thirty chocolate chip cookies in a branded box, then pull a jumbo cookie from the warmer. It’s already boxed, so you take a marker out of a nearby drawer and write Happy Birthday with a little candle drawn beside it. If it’s not his birthday, he’ll think it was the wrong box, but either way, you hope it’ll brighten his day. With the cookies placed in a bag, you hand it over the counter and thank Tim for coming in. You hope you’ll see him again. With your tendency to work in the back and the high number of one-time customers you get, you try not to get your hopes up.

The drive to the station is spent in silence. The radio is off as Tim enjoys what he considers the best cup of coffee. His mind continues to return to you, the cute girl at the bakery, who he could tell was a little shy. Your service was great, but you didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes or engage in small talk.

After parking in the station lot, Tim pulls his jumbo cookie from the bag. The birthday wishes make him smile, and he shakes his head as he wonders how you knew. Granted, it could have been the wrong box or something, but Tim prefers the idea that you did it special for him. The receipt is on the bottom of the box, and he pulls it away only to see that you gave him the cookie for free. Maybe it will be a good birthday, after all, he thinks.

Tim enjoys half of his cookie, then returns it to the box to save for later. Tim will most certainly be returning to the bakery because your smile and the taste of the coffee and the cookies together are pretty close to perfection.

Tim sets the cookies on a central table in the bullpen and opens the box. He can immediately tell that there are more than 24 cookies, and he shakes his head at your kindness.

“Happy birthday!” Lucy calls as she runs to his side.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, in a better mood than the last decade of birthdays combined.

“You’re back!” you cheer when Tim returns the following morning. Melanie called to tell you her exam went well, but she had to wait for the essay portion to be graded, and you invited her to rest at home one more day while she waited. So, you’re at the front again.

“I am. Thank you for the birthday note yesterday,” Tim replies, smiling. He has a gorgeous smile, you think. “How did you know?”

“I noticed you smile when the birthday cake souffle came out,” you explain softly, shrugging rather than providing more explanation.

“I really appreciate it. My coworkers loved the cookies, too.”

“I’m glad. You want to try something else today?”

Tim smiles, and you unconsciously move your fingers to the side of the register where you can include discounts and freebies.

“What do you recommend?” he inquires.

“Our maple pumpkin biscotti cupcakes are pretty well-loved. I like the chocolate swirl croissant,” you answer. “It’s new, but..”

“Then I’ll take thirty-six of those cupcakes and two of the croissants. On one condition.”

“Yes?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

“Let me pay for it this time.”

You nod once and type in the order. As Tim steps to the side, you begin helping the next customer and whisper to Mitch to give the officer a small coffee with the excuse of preparing it too soon for a pickup order.

“I’m paying for it,” Tim insists after it’s left on the counter.

You ignore him, smiling as you take another order, and Mitch gives him the bag of cupcakes.

“See you,” Tim calls as he leaves.

“Have a good day!” you call after him.

When you return to the kitchen around 10 a.m., you sigh and set out to make something you think Tim will love.

Over the next two weeks, Tim comes in daily. He gets something for the officers at this station or just a treat for himself, and on one busy morning, he says hello and orders a coffee. You look forward to seeing him each morning, finding an excuse to be at the front during his usual time. He is the kindest customer you have ever had, and you want to ask him out. Each morning, you give yourself a pep talk and get encouragement from Melanie or Mitch, then get shy and fail to tell him how you feel. So, you find a way to brighten his day and remind him you’re there and you see him. You slip him a freebie, give him a free coffee, charge him for a smaller size than what you give him, or ask him to test a new item and get back to you. If it’s not on the menu, I can’t charge you was your excuse for the last one.

As far as you can tell, he has noticed you. He comes in and immediately finds you or keeps his eyes on the kitchen door until you exit. Yet, he hasn’t said any more than you have. Eventually, one of you will say something… or so you hope.

You’ve slowly opened up but can’t speak more than a few sentences before you remember who you’re talking to and get shy again. Tim asks about you, how you’re doing, what your favorite menu item is, what you’ve baked recently, and you gladly listen when he tells you about himself in return. It seems like you're getting to know him, but you still want so much more.

One morning, nearly three weeks after meeting Tim, you glance at the clock again. He’s late. Or he isn’t coming. As you leave the counter and return to the kitchen, you make red velvet cupcakes for a large order and try not to think about Tim. You didn’t say anything for three weeks, there is no reason to assume that he had any real reason to come back.

Melanie enters the kitchen, and you look up hopefully, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sure he was just running late or had to go in early. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she says softly.

You shake your head and begin portioning the cake batter into muffin tins. Getting your mind off Tim will be hard; he’s consumed every one of your thoughts for nearly a month, but you have a business to focus on and more customers than the handsome sergeant who was your favorite daily customer until today.

 Several hours later, Mitch is on the phone when the chime over the door rings. You wave to him and walk out of the kitchen, then stop behind the register.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tim says.

You remain silent as you look at him. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, there’s a scrape over his eyebrow that looks recent, and the knuckles on his left hand are darkening. Based on his appearance alone, you assume he was late for a good reason.

“What can I get you?” you ask, breathless, as you move to stand behind the register. “It’s on the house.”

Tim smiles, and you have to remind yourself to listen. He orders your favorite, then places his hands on the counter and leans closer to you. You nod, then blink and ask him to repeat himself.

“Your favorite,” he says.

“How do you…”

“You told me. I remembered.”

You lick your lips before whispering, “Why?”

“The same reason I know that you hate working at the register because you’re shy and it drains your energy. You’d rather be in the back with your recipes and music than up here with customers. The reason I know you own this place but don’t advertise it because you don’t want the attention. All of that, all of you, is why I keep coming back. And I’m really hoping that those things will be why you say yes when I ask if you’ll go out with me.”

You swallow but can’t form words yet. Your answer is yes, of course, it is. When you open your mouth, though, you ask, “Are you okay?”

Tim smiles again and says, “I worked all night and could really use some of your amazing coffee.”

“You missed breakfast?”

Tim extends his arms so his hands are closer to yours and corrects, “I missed you.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I really want to go out with you.”

Tim nods, then thanks Melanie when she sets a coffee cup on the counter beside him. He sees your number on the side and smiles, but you drop your head momentarily to avoid the embarrassment Melanie provides.

“I promise we’ll do something you’ll like,” Tim assures as his fingers brush yours.

I’ll find the courage to do anything with you, you want to say. Deciding that is more of a second date statement, you merely nod and ask Tim, “Do you actually want my favorite or is there something else you’d prefer?”

[jojo-oliver]

Fundraising for transport to Pride Markets

I've got goods, can you help get me there?

Goal is $1000 CAD. Help by supporting my shop?

Please share

Buttons $3 CAD / Toque $35 CAD / Patch $15 CAD

All orders get a numbered bad seal drawing for a short time!!! Limited edition, will be on your order slip!!

I am going to markets in summer to sell my artwork - but also 4 other confirmed artists' artwork at pride festivals. I'm building a queer artist collective and we want to bring queer-created pride merchandise to local markets. We want to directly benefit our local community. I want to provide pride merchandise where the profit goes towards other queer people.

The other artists' work isn't up on our site yet but it will be available at the markets.

Buttons $3 CAD / Holo sticker $7 CAD

Why:

-I got a microloan for this, but last second my guy had to halve the loan amount. He said he could cover my transport + the requested amount to cover all expenses, but then he had to change it to just the requested amount, last second. I accept the help that was given and am thankful for that. He had other businesses that also needed help.

-My employer ghosted me - long story short. I showed up to work multiple times to find the business closed without any communication whatsoever. BUT they are also a queer small business owner. I will not be seeking anything from them, nor will I go into any more detail about where I was working. Yes it sucks for me and yes it sucks for everyone else affected, but infighting is not worth it, and I want them to do well.

Boot patches $25 CAD / Stickers $5 CAD / OG paintings $500 CAD

What is the money going towards?

Gas money. Food money. One more table for the market, button making supplies, trans boot stickers restock. Emergency cash.

Shop link: https://www.queerforqueer.com/

We have 3 events lined up and we're signing up for more.

I will update with progress as we go

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Fault Lines Ch. 4

request: wanted to know if you could write something where the reader is a ex-winter solider (just like bucky, but maybe she doesn't lose her arm) and how she struggles to accept Joaquin. An overall angst to fluff.

pairing: joaquin torres x ex super soldier!f!reader

contents: canon typical violence, illusions to abuse and torture, ptsd and other mental illness, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff if you squint!!!

wc: 1,463

an: this one definitely broke my heart a little but it’s all for the greater good i promise <33

fault lines masterlist

It had taken a couple weeks and sifting through some painful memories, but with Joaquin and Sam’s help you narrowed down the most likely place that your target was laying low. It was another facility, this time in the desert.

Where you preferred the heat over the freezing cold, you could tell that they were struggling by their water intakes and sweat soaked shirts. You decide not to say anything— heat makes people grumpy, and between you and Sam there’s enough grump. That and you have something much more important to focus on as you approach the building.

Joaquin shifts his weight, scanning the compound through his scope from their vantage point on the ridge. Beside him, you’re unnervingly still, eyes locked on the entrance like you can will your target into existence.

“We go in quiet,” Sam says over comms. “No unnecessary casualties. We take them alive if possible.”

You don’t respond. Joaquin does. “Copy.”

He glances at you, but your expression doesn’t change. The mission has been communicated and is clear, but he can feel the storm rolling inside you. This isn’t just another takedown to you. It’s an ending. The culmination of everything you’ve fought for, suffered for, lost.

It scares him because he knows you would give anything for it. Maybe even your life.

__

Once inside, the air is sterile and stale, filled with the ghosts of past violence never fully faded. The three of you move like shadows, clearing room after room. Hydra’s presence here is weak—their numbers already thinned from previous operations.

Despite the ease, you don’t relax. Not yet.

Joaquin watches the way your grip tightens around your weapon as each room is cleared. The way your breath grows more even and steady as you step over an unconscious body, moving toward the command center. This is what you were made for. The thought unsettles him.

When you finally find him, your target is alone in the dimly lit room, scrambling for a weapon he’ll never reach. You’re moving towards him with swiftness before Sam can give the order, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the console causing his nose to bleed. The sight, the coppery smell makes something inside you burn with satisfaction.

The man is just as you remember him. He doesn’t have a name, not a proper one but you and other soldiers called him The Mire. A twisted scar on his face and shocking blonde hair that you’ve seen in your nightmares.

He laughs through the pain, the haunting sound growing louder when you press the barrel of your gun to his forehead. “You think this ends with me?”

Joaquin steps forward. “You can make this easy, or—”

The man barely spares him a glance. His focus is on you, his eyes glittering with mischief. “Go on, then. You’ve come this far.” His lips curl into something taunting. “I wonder—when you close your eyes at night, do you see their faces?”

Your grip tightens. Joaquin sees it instantly—the slight shift in your stance, the barely-there hitch in your breath. You’re…hesitating?

The man must see it too, because his demented grin widens. “Of course you do.” His voice lowers, smooth, insidious. “It’s the price we pay, isn’t it? Those of us who were made for something greater.”

Joaquin moves closer. “Cállate.”

The man ignores him. His eyes stay on you. “The experiments. The conditioning. It never really leaves, does it? You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know what you are.” His head tilts. “A weapon. A perfect little instrument of death.”

Joaquin sees the moment the words hit their mark. You don’t flinch, but something in your expression hardens. His words conjure memories that make you want to be at the end of your gun.

The man exhales through his nose, like he’s at peace with whatever happens next. “They made you to destroy, and look at you. Right on script.”

Joaquin steps closer. His voice is quiet, but firm. “Hey.”

You don’t look at him. The barrel of your gun presses more firmly against his forehead. Better him than you, right?

“No eres tú,” Joaquin urges.

Your finger hovers over the trigger. This will fix everything. It’ll save you from your torment and allow you to move forward, right?

The man smirks, eyes flicking between you and Joaquin. “Oh, I see now,” he breathes out a laugh. “You’ve got your own little soldier whispering sweet nothings to you. That’s cute. You’ve thought about it right? What his neck feels like under your hands?”

Joaquin’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t take the bait. “Walk away,” he murmurs.

The man keeps going, his grin widening. “It must kill you, doesn’t it? Knowing what you are. Knowing that no matter what, he’ll always be the one looking at you like you’re something more.” His eyes glint with something cruel. “But tell me, what happens when he finally sees you for what you really are?”.

Joaquin shakes his head, stepping even closer, voice just for you now. “You don’t belong to anyone but yourself.”

For the first time, your focus wavers, your gaze meeting his. Despite the daunting situation, Joaquin’s eyes are the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen. That warmth is at the core of who he is, spreading through every cell in his body and radiating off of him. You feel it’s contrast on the rough, cold edges of your makeup.

Joaquin doesn’t look away. “No eres un arma. Nunca lo fuiste. But you pull that trigger, and they win. They still own you.”

Your jaw clenches. Slowly, painfully—you lower the gun.

Your target’s laugh is cut short by Sam knocking him out cold. Joaquin watches you, but your face is unreadable.

It’s over. Hydra’s last head severed.

You thought that knowing he was done would drain the dread from your body, but you don’t feel any relief. There’s nothing but darkness and confusion, hopelessness finding its play in your belly.

—

The ride back to the local safehouse is quiet. Joaquin sits across from you in the Quinjet, waiting.

But you don’t say a word— you have a map out in front of you, developing your next steps. You aren’t sure where to go or what to do but you know you can’t stay with them.

Sam’s the first to speak. “You did good.”

His praise is meant to make you feel good about making the “right” decision but they just make you feel sick.

Softly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, you say, “I don’t know what to do now.”

Joaquin leans forward, beating down the urge to reach out and grab your hand. “Then maybe that’s the point. You get to figure it out. And we could— I could—“

You hold his gaze, something soft he can’t name in your eyes. But then, just like that, it’s gone. “I’m not staying.”

Sam doesn’t argue. Neither does Joaquin as much as he wants to. You having choices is important him after the life you’ve been forced to live.

They watch you stand and grab what little gear you have before heading for the ramp. The Quinjet hasn’t even landed yet, but you’re already moving forward.

Joaquin stands, stepping closer to you. “No tienes que hacer esto solo.”

You smile— really smile— but even then it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I always have, baby bird. No te preocupes por mí.”

The ramp lowers and the night’s air rushes inside, cold without the beating sun.

You don’t say anything else and before he can try to find something to fill the silence, you surprise him. You step forward—just close enough for your fingers to graze his as you pass. A fleeting touch, barely there, but Joaquin feels it like a brand. Like an electric shock.

His breath catches and then he’s watching you fade into the sand, and soon into the mountains, something heavy settling in his chest.

Sam claps him on the shoulder. “You know, for someone who talks a lot, you were pretty damn quiet back there.”

Joaquin sighs, running a hand down his face. “Not the time, man.”

Sam snorts. “Oh, I’m sorry. You want me to pretend I haven’t noticed the whole thing you’ve got going on?”

Joaquin turns to glare at him. Sam grins.

“I mean, come on,” Sam continues. “She gives you one look, and you go all soft. And don’t think I missed the way she touched your hand before leaving.” He raises a brow. “You gonna tell me that meant nothing?”

Joaquin exhales, shaking his head. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

Sam hums, unconvinced. “Well, I’ll say this—you better hope she comes back. I don’t think you’d take it well if she didn’t.”

Joaquin doesn’t know what he could say to make Sam back off but deep down, he knows the man is right.

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> ch.5