#Side Hustle Doctor
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notbecauseofvictories · 7 months ago
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working in healthcare can be funny, because sometimes family members will call and ask, "hey, I'm looking for a doctor who specializes in x, who would you recommend" and I have to remind them that I deal almost exclusively with doctors who want contracts signed and/or break the law
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preserve-or-raze · 2 years ago
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my tags got out of hand
i keep thinking about hobbies and how i often spill over myself to pick up new ones. i have adhd, i end up trying something for like a month and then just getting far enough in it that i move on, satisfied.
and that should be fine; but it's never fine.
i am a pretty decent artist; but i can't just make art for my dnd campaign, i should be selling dnd maps and character designs and scene setting pieces. i can't just make my friends matching earrings, i need to get an etsy and ship them internationally and take bulk orders. i make pretty good props and decorations and use them to throw my friends parties - but i should be running a party planning business and start taking paying clients and networking and putting my skills to actual use.
for some reason, i never figured out the specifics of pottery. it was a fun class and i enjoyed myself - and still, i'm embarrassed, years later, that i put in all that useless effort. everything i make has to be stunning. stellar. i should have applied myself more. maybe i'm too lazy. maybe i'm broken and selfish and needy. actually creative people would have kept going; they would be bettering themselves at every possible opportunity.
we find ourselves in this trap, even accidentally: we need to commodify our time, because it is a commodity. if we spend our efforts and our time not earning, isn't that the same thing as burning free money? and god forbid you ever take up a hobby that ends up being more expensive than you thought. you sit in your car and you look at the receipt and in your head you hear a conversation that isn't even happening - your mom or your friend or your partner all saying oh great. not this shit again. it's always something with you, and it never actually means anything.
i have realized this horrible thing, recently - i'll get excited to start a project, pick up a new hobby. and then i just... stop myself. i start thinking about the amount of time it will take, and how it'll look in my monthly budget. what if i can't even produce a good enough final product. sure, it's exciting to think about how i could make my friend her own custom dice. but i'm just polluting the earth if i don't get it right. better not bother. better not try.
restless, i get caught in the negative space. the feeling that oh god, i want to create. and that horrible sense - yeah, but i don't have the time to just put to waste.
#oh my god i’m not the only person in the whole world who has Struggles and Difficulties#i am in pharmacy school which means i have no money no time etc and so every single thing that would bring an iota of joy or escape#must be cut for time because you haven’t studied for your exam next month so no you cannot start watching that the show.#and because you missed the deadline two weeks ago for that group project that the others did for you there will be no sitting at the piano#also you made a c and not a b on the exam yesterday so maybe instead of ordering takeout like you said you were going to#(because you know that you don’t buy real food on the rare occasion you go to the grocery store)#instead you’re gonna have to pick through your bare cabinets and empty fridge freezer for something. or just not eat#like you sometimes do#this is not a problem bc you’ve saved your money which you can’t afford to waste#that’s what they told you when you started: tell your friends you can’t see them much because a doctoral program is a time commitment#they said: you need to quit your side hustles and get an internship#they said: you need to ask for cleaning supplies for your birthday—and clothes and shoes bc tuition is very expensive#this isn’t some deficiency on your part. everyone else lives in isolation with no hobbies or entertainment too.#the only difference is that THEY spend all that time studying and reviewing and working and preparing—#while YOU are laying in bed all day because the thought of writing that paragraph is nauseating and tomorrows exam is slowly enveloping you#and you can tell because you had to retake those 2 classes and you have to retake another one this summer.#never mind that you still don’t know anything. just keep playing the part. stay afloat until this week’s exam is over#then you can worry about next week’s exams#(you WILL worry about next week’s exams)#learning the ukulele isn’t going to ease your stress it’s just gonna make you feel guilty#what do you mean you already feel guilty because you’ve pulled the ukelele out exactly twice since mom gave it to you for christmas?#that webseries updates 4 times a week. can you honestly tell me that you have 4 hours a week where you don’t feel shame#about not exceeding expectations anymore?#i thought not. close your compute— you didn’t even take it out of your bag.#do you ever take it out of your bag at home?#you don’t.#well i can see why you’re such a fucking failure#it’s 3:27 am but ​i won’t bother telling you to shower or brush your teeth- i know you don’t do that.#you went to bed three and a half hours ago now it’s time to sleep#maybe we’ll see what tomorrow has for us
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1q39com · 6 months ago
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noturnurse · 10 months ago
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GENERAL TAGS.
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loveanddeepthroat · 2 months ago
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can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there
Careless
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Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.
Word Count - 2.3k
Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.
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The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.
Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.
In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.
Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.
A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.
A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.
Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.
When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.
She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.
Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.
It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.
You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.
You just wanted to go home.
“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”
You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.
The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”
“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.
Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.
“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”
The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.
“Okay,” you finally agreed. 
The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.
“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”
“You’ve told her plenty.”
Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.
Sylus.
Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”
It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”
To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.
“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”
Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.
“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 
You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”
“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”
You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”
He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.
“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.
Mephisto. 
That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”
Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 
He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.
Not that you knew where your phone was.
The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.
After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.
“So it’s a skill issue?”
You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 
His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.
“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.
He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.
You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.
Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 
“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”
His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.
“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”
He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.
It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.
Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’
A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”
He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 
“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.
“That’s not what I—”
“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”
Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.
“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.
He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 
“I’d risk it all for you.”
He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.
But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.
Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”
A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.
“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.
You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.
His real side.
He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.
“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.
The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.
“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.
A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.
“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”
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A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤
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peachesofteal · 4 months ago
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request: angst 2/3 - tw trauma
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"How bad?"
You're trying to keep pace with Kyle, who's clocking a break neck speed at your side, mind still reeling, trying to turn everything over, make sense of it all, Orion heavy in your arms, nearly asleep again after you pulled him from his dreams to bring him with you... here.
To the hospital.
Kyle says your name. He says it softly, kindly, and there's sadness in his eyes. "He's tough, he's never not made it through... but he did go to surgery when we landed." Oh god. Your stomach roils.
"Mrs. Riley?" You blink. Nothing in this moment feels real, not the white hallway, the antiseptic smell, the hustle and bustle flowing around you like a rock in a river. The woman in scrubs smiles kindly, and you try to focus on her teeth. Straight. Perfect. "Would you like to see your husband?"
"Yeah..." Orion gurgles in his sleep, and you throw Kyle a desperate look.
"Here," he reaches, pulling him into his chest, "I"ll hang out with big man for a bit. You go on." The tightness in your chest loosens, only a fraction.
"Thank you."
The doctor explains the extent of the damage. Surgery. Broken ribs. His limbs are intact, but he 'rung his bell' pretty hard, resulting in an awful concussion. She stops at the doorway with a sympathetic smile. "He's been out of surgery for a few hours, but is fairly groggy. He was asleep the last time the nurse was in. There's a call button on the wall, ring us if you need anything, okay?" You nod, dumbly. Barely processing. Heart squeezing in your chest.
"Simon, it's okay, it's me, just me." He pulls at the oxygen tubing under his nose, and you tug on his wrist, trying to prevent him from yanking it free. "Hey, hey. You're okay, you're in the hospital." You try to soothe him, calm him, but his eyes are blank, lungs raspy and stuttering, full of panic. It's agony to know he's suffering, he's scared, and you can't fix it. "Simon," you try again, placing a hand on his neck, trying to steer his focus onto yourself, but his lip trembles. The monitors beep wildly, too fast, and you try to settle him.
"No, please." Tears spring to your eyes. Your heart breaks. "Stop, stop, please." His voice fractures, tears shining on his cheeks.
"I'm here." Your fingers find his. "I'm here, you're okay, you're in the hospital." You lean over him, gently pressing your lips to his forehead-
and his arm swings wildly at your chest, shoving you away so forcefully you stumble backwards with a gasp, nearly falling.
The door opens, Price and Soap sprinting into the room, the captain holding Simon by the shoulders as Soap slams the call button.
The next moments pass in a blur. A team files in and sedates him, forces something into his IV as he moans, slurring words together you don't understand.
Your sobs come easily.
Your nose keeps skimming across the top of Orion's head.
He didn't mean it. He wasn't in his right mind.
You repeat it over and over again, trying to engrain it in your soul. It's easy to imagine, where he was in his mind. Pleading not to be touched, something in the moment, you didn't understand. It's so obvious looking back.
"He's awake now." Soap eases himself into the chair next to you, the one you've been in for five hours, eyes wide, free hand gripping a lukewarm tea like a lifeline. "Askin' if ye're here."
"He doesn't remember." It's not a question, but Soap still nods.
"We hav'nae told him yet. Wanted to talk ye first." You take a deep breath.
"Will you... will you take the baby? I don't want..." Soap's gaze softens, deep with sympathy.
"O'course."
"There you are." He's desperately relieved, head turned towards you, eyes wide and eager. You long for him, but your body refuses to budge, feet unable to carry you to his side. "It's okay, mama. It's not as bad as it looks. I'm okay."
"S-Simon." You're on the verge, spiraling, and his head tilts, confused, brows creased.
"C'mere, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm alright." Your heart screams. Wails, pleads and begs, move, step forward, go go go... but your body does not budge. You're frozen. "Hey. What's wrong?" Everything. You should be comforting him, helping him, holding him, but fight or flight is slowly poisoning your mind. He struggles to sit up in the bed, monitors sounding off, faster and faster, same pace as before, worry starting to seize his muscles. "What is it? What... are you okay? Is it the baby?"
"N-no... I-" You want to tell him, but the words evaporate. The only thing you can do is press yourself against the wall. Your knees go weak. Your heart is beating too fast, and you turn dizzy, hands splayed behind you for support.
He says your name. When it fails to get your attention, he says it again, louder, hoarse with worry.
It's all too much.
He's still calling for you as you run out the door.
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punkshort · 6 months ago
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Night Shift
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Thank you anon for this request!
Pairing: Joel Miller x nurse!reader
Summary: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.
Warnings: language, descriptions of wounds/injuries/blood (typical hospital junk), needles, drugs (the medical kind), fluff, flirting, rom-com vibes, soft!joel, just a little smut (18+ MDNI)
WC: 7.3K
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
A/N: I'm fully aware some things I'm about to describe is probably incorrect (medically) but let's suspend that disbelief for a fun, fluffy story, shall we?
"Dr. Fisher wants you in room 504, but if you're too busy, I would be more than willing to go," Lily said, leaning over the counter with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I haven't had anything to do other than charts for the past two hours, how on earth could I be too busy?" you asked, standing up and draping your stethoscope around your neck. Then you froze, realizing Lily never tries to take a patient off your hands. "Wait... why are you offering?"
She grinned and flopped down in the swivel chair next to you, crossing her legs. "The guy is smokin' hot," she whispered with a wink. "I just got a glimpse when I brought Fisher the computer cart, but..." she exhaled loudly and fanned her face. "Even with all the blood, you can tell he's a fox."
"Blood?!" you exclaimed, jogging around the nurse's desk, "why didn't you tell me?"
"He's stable, it's not-" Lily began, but you were already hustling down the hall. When you skidded to a stop outside room 504, you were relieved there wasn't a flurry of staff running in and out of the room, indicating whatever was waiting for you wasn't life threatening.
As you entered through the open door, you rapped two knuckles on the wood to announce your presence. Dr. Fisher, standing at the patient's bedside and blocking your view, glanced over his shoulder and nodded while you washed your hands. You heard him talking to a man with a deeper southern drawl than you were used to, and by the sound of it, he was in pain. You plucked two gloves from the box on the wall and snapped the latex on, turning around with a practiced smile right as Dr. Fisher introduced you by name.
Lily was right. Your eyes landed on a painfully good looking, dark haired man sitting up in the bed with one leg draped over the side, as if he was getting ready to bolt. You tried to not let your gaze linger, but the way his thighs stretched out his worn, bloody jeans and his shoulders filled out his ripped flannel held your attention longer than you expected. He first glanced over at you right when you noticed the laceration on his forearm and you went into autopilot.
You began to pull various instruments from a cabinet without instruction, already anticipating what the doctor would need before he began to rattle off requests, which you mentally jotted down and nodded in acknowledgement when he was finished.
"I'm gonna give you a local anesthetic and then clean and stitch this up. Are you allergic to anything, Mr. Miller?" Dr. Fisher asked.
"No," he said, his eyes still stuck on you as you worked. "Call me Joel," he added, his eyes flicking up to the doctor once he realized he was staring. Tommy smirked from the corner of the room and tucked his chin to his chest.
"Only thing he's allergic to is askin' for help," Tommy joked. You startled and glanced over your shoulder. Somehow you had missed the second man in the room when you first walked in. Joel scowled in his direction.
"Ignore my brother," Joel muttered with a roll of his eyes.
"Can you prep him and give him 20MLs of the local? I'll be right back, I have another patient waiting to get discharged," Dr. Fisher said to Joel, who nodded and lifted his leg onto the bed, resigning himself to a long night.
Your gaze drifted over his clothes, ruined by all the blood that had gushed from his arm. "This looks pretty nasty. What happened tonight, Joel?" you asked, using your typical distraction technique while you worked unwrapping instruments and lying them out on a tray. When he didn't answer right away, you met his gaze and smiled, assuming he was squeamish and doing to do your best to reassure him.
He blinked and cleared his throat.
"Sorry. Um, got hurt at work."
You frowned, your eyes roaming over his face now that you were closer and hoping he didn't notice the way you stared a moment too long at his soft looking lips. "What do you do that you're working so late?"
"I'm a contractor," he said, mesmerized by the way you effortlessly moved around, probably just going through the motions but to him, it looked so impressive. The monitor next to his bed beeped faster and he glared up at it, angry at the heart monitor for betraying him.
"Lots of things need to be built at midnight?" you teased, making him chuckle.
"I'm behind on a project and my daughter had a sleepover tonight so I figured I'd do a little extra work," he explained, wincing when he moved his injured arm.
You nodded, latching on to the new piece of information. You loved it when patients had kids. It was a great way to keep them talking and calm. But right as you were about to ask her name, the second man chimed in.
"Yeah, 'cause otherwise he'd be home alone," he said, making the both of you stop and stare at him. His eyes bounced back and forth between you both. "'Cause he's single," he added after a beat, making both you and Joel blush.
"Jesus, Tommy," Joel muttered under his breath, and you forced out a polite laugh before switching gears.
"Alright, let's see," you said, gently lifting his arm and peeling back the sleeve of his flannel. You made a face and Joel tensed.
"What is it?"
"I wish I had better news," you sighed, locking eyes with him. "I'm gonna have to cut the sleeve off this shirt," you said solemnly.
His face broke out into a huge smile, one that reached his beautiful brown eyes and creased his tanned skin, and you giggled before reaching for the scissors.
"It's alright, darlin'," he said, still smiling as you began to cut through the fabric, "ain't got no fashion sense, anyway."
"'Cause he's single," Tommy said again from across the room. Joel swiveled his head and mouthed something angrily in his direction but you just grinned and stayed focused, pulling the sleeve away and making sure not to brush up against his wound.
"Okay, Joel, how are you around needles?" you asked, turning your back to him and blocking his view while you prepped a syringe with local anesthetic. "Do I need to call someone in here to catch you if you faint?"
He scoffed. "Hell no, I'll be -" you turned around with the needle in your hand and he gulped, "-fine."
You eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?"
He nodded and looked up at the ceiling, so you decided to just make it as fast as possible. Cleaning the skin with some alcohol, you slid the needle into his arm near the laceration and injected the medicine. After, you pressed a piece of cotton against the injection site and hid the needle behind you on the tray.
"All done, you did great," you said, and he looked at you in surprise.
"That's it? Hardly felt a thing."
You smiled and shrugged. "I've been doing this a while," you said. You always loved when patients commented on how gentle you were. It made you feel proud and good at your rather thankless job.
"Yeah? How long?" he asked, watching as you pulled out another vial of medicine.
"Almost five years," you told him, filling another syringe and wiping an alcohol pad on his inner elbow.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's for the pain," you said, "it's mild but you might feel a little out of it for a couple hours. It will help you relax so the doctor can stitch you up."
He nodded and you quickly slipped the needle in and out, just like before.
"Okay, all done with needles, I promise," you told him, disposing of them both in a red sharps container bolted to the wall by the sink.
"Whoa," Joel said softly after a minute, and you looked up at him then smiled when you saw that familiar, spaced out look in his eyes.
"Feeling it?" you asked, and he slowly nodded.
"Reckon I am."
"That's good. Just try to relax, the doctor will be back soon," you said, turning your attention to the computer cart. You were typing in your notes and scanning the vials of medicine to log into Joel's chart when Tommy's phone rang.
"It's Maria, probably wonderin' what the hell's goin' on," Tommy told Joel as he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be right back," he said right before you heard him answer the phone and walk out into the hallway for some privacy.
Joel's head rolled to the side and he gazed over at you, smiling like a fool at the way your eyebrows pinched together as you focused on whatever you were typing.
"You're real good at this," he mumbled. You glanced at him, taking a break from the computer, and smiled.
"Thank you."
"How long you been doin' this?"
You stifled your laughter and answered the question again. "Almost five years."
He nodded, completely unaware. His eyes looked glazed over and he gave you a lazy smile. "You're real pretty."
Even though you knew it was the drugs talking, your heart still skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks heat up.
"You must be feeling better, huh?" you joked, wrapping a blood pressure sleeve around his arm. He lightly took your wrist in his hand, making you pause and catch his eye. He looked so earnest and sincere that you almost believed him when he said, "it ain't the drugs. I mean it. Can't keep my eyes off you, darlin'."
Your mouth suddenly felt dry as the two of you silently assessed the other. You searched his face but all you could find was a raw vulnerability while he waited for you to say something. And you really wanted to be honest, but you knew it was unprofessional and you had no idea what was even allowed but you had to assume your job would be at risk if you said what you really wanted to say.
Fortunately, you didn't have to say anything at all because Dr. Fisher chose that moment to return, breezing into the room with his white coat fluttering behind him.
"How're you feeling, Joel?" he asked from the sink as he washed his hands. You stepped back and focused on the computer screen, still feeling the heat of Joel's gaze on your face as you typed.
"Much better," he said, slowly dragging his eyes away from you. Tommy reentered the room, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and dodging Dr. Fisher as he turned around to face Joel.
"That's good. Let's get you patched up and back home, how's that sound?" he said, and you abandoned the computer to stand at his side, your eyes cast down as you awaited the doctor's instructions.
Dr. Fisher worked quickly and had Joel's laceration closed up in under thirty minutes, the whole time checking in with him to make sure he didn't feel anything. You caught Joel staring at you more than once during the procedure and you had to bite back a grin, but each time he noticed and he smiled that same dazzling smile that reached his eyes.
Once the stitches were done, Joel - but mostly Tommy - listened to Dr. Fisher's instructions on how to keep it dry and clean and to follow up with his own practitioner the next business day to schedule an appointment. Then he left, bidding the brothers a good night after he explained you would wrap up the wound and process his discharge papers.
You were very gentle as you wrapped his arm, quietly asking if it was too tight or if anything hurt. He would shake his head and continue to just gaze adoringly at you while you worked, completely unbothered by his brother just a few feet away witnessing his utter captivation.
"Okay, Joel. Let's get you out of here," you sighed, turning back to the computer cart.
"Already?" he asked, and you had to hold back your laugh at the bewildered look on his face.
"It's a slow night, we were able to get you in and out much quicker than normal," you explained, hitting the print button on the computer screen.
"Well, but..." he trailed off, looking back and forth between you and Tommy as he struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm single!" he practically shouted when you gave him a pen to sign his papers. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Tommy laughed from his chair in the corner of the room.
"I know, your brother mentioned it a couple times," you replied as your face grew hot once again. "Um, can you just sign here, and-"
"Are you single?" he asked, cutting you off. You looked up from the papers to find his beautiful brown eyes all wide and hopeful, completely ignoring the clipboard in front of him.
"Yes," you finally answered, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
"Great!" he exclaimed, throwing his good arm up in the air with a huge grin. Tommy cleared his throat and stood up.
"I think what he's tryin' to do is ask for your number," he said. Joel nodded, not even sparing a glance in his brother's direction.
"Yeah, sorry," Joel said sheepishly, then he rubbed his face like he could make the brain fog dissipate. "Can I get your number? I'd love to take you out sometime."
Your heart was pounding in your chest now from excitement. You bit your lip and glanced over your shoulder at the open door before turning back to Joel.
"I don't know, I might get in trouble..." you began, and he quickly sat up in bed.
"I won't tell anyone," Joel said, and his voice was so serious that you couldn't help but laugh. Tommy grinned and pulled out his wallet.
"How 'bout this. What if I left Joel's business card, in case you ever needed a contractor?" Tommy offered, holding out the card between two fingers. You gingerly accepted and briefly glanced down at it. "That's his work number but this one is his cell," Tommy continued, pointing to each number respectively, "you're better off gettin' ahold of him on that one. Y'know, for any projects you might need done."
Joel gave Tommy the most grateful look. "I love you, Tommy."
"Alright, that's enough. I oughta get you back home," Tommy said with a crooked grin. You laughed and pocketed Joel's card, standing by in case he needed any assistance getting up. But before Joel and Tommy exited the room, Joel turned to you and reached out for your hand. You hesitated for a moment before stretching out your arm and allowing his thick fingers to wrap themselves around your hand.
"Thank you for saving my life," he told you, his tone deathly serious. You fought back a smile and instead gave him a firm nod.
"You're very welcome, Joel."
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His business card stayed folded up in your scrubs pocket for a week, your fingers occasionally brushing up against it like a talisman as you worked.
You never told Lily about that night but you did try to sneakily look into the legality of potentially dating a former patient, but you got too nervous someone would see over your shoulder and didn't get very far.
One day, a fellow nurse who had been working at the hospital for nearly fifteen years made a comment about a patient saying something suggestive to a male doctor and she thought the doctor in question didn't handle it properly.
"What do you mean?"
"He laughed and said something along the lines of I'm too old for you," she had scoffed. "He should have shut it down right away. If the wrong person heard it, he could get into serious trouble."
That was all you needed to hear to put you off from the idea.
That evening, you took Joel's business card out of your pocket and threw it in the trash, then went to take a shower. But afterwards, when you had poured yourself a glass of wine to celebrate the start of three days in a row off from work, you found yourself hovering over the garbage and staring at the folded up piece of paper, sitting right on top of a napkin.
With a sigh, you plucked it out of the garbage and stuck it to your fridge, then forced yourself to leave the room.
There was nothing wrong with keeping the card if you weren't going to call. Right?
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It pained you to go so close to the hospital on one of your well deserved days off, but you couldn't resist the chocolate croissants sold at a café around the corner. They were baked fresh daily and always served warm and after a grueling four days in a row at work, you felt you deserved a treat. So that was how you found yourself waiting at the counter for your usual order, surrounded by various professionals hurrying to grab their coffees before chaining themselves to a desk for the remainder of the day. It was busy, but the barista who usually took care of you made sure to prioritize your order, shooting you a quick wink before she slid your croissant and coffee across the counter. You mouthed thank you and turned to leave, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of people waiting for their drinks.
When you stepped outside, out of habit you glanced towards the hospital, then froze. You blinked a few times, your coffee halfway to your lips as you stared at the familiar looking man pacing back and forth on the sidewalk with his head angled toward the ground. You began to walk in his direction, squinting against the sun and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but it really was him.
"Joel?"
He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked, your eyes drifting around to see if he was with anybody.
"Huh?" he asked, then immediately shook his head, "yes, I mean... no, everythin's fine." He nervously jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "I, uh, came to see you, actually," he said, glancing down at your clothes, noticing you weren't in your scrubs. "Are you workin'?"
You looked down at your jeans before meeting his gaze again. "No, I have the day off, I was just getting coffee," you jutted your thumb over your shoulder, back towards the café, and you realized how bizarre the conversation was so far. "Why are you here to see me?"
He gave you a nervous smile and looked away, watching as an ambulance veered noisily into the parking lot. "I came to apologize. 'Bout the other week. Tommy told me what I said and I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Wasn't my intention, I guess it was all the meds." He finally dragged his eyes back to you and watched as something flickered across your face.
"Oh," you managed to squeak out. Even though you assumed as much, it still stung to hear he didn't mean what he said. "It's fine. It didn't make me uncomfortable. It comes with the territory," you told him with a soft laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. He nodded and looked behind you, trying to think of something else to say but when the silence became too much, you took a step back.
"I should go, but it was nice to see you. I'm glad the arm-"
"Wait - uh," he scratched his beard and took a deep breath. "If I didn't make you uncomfortable, why didn't you call?"
You blinked rapidly and thought about it for a moment before frowning.
"I thought you said it was the drugs talking?" you countered, avoiding his question with one of your own.
"I lied."
"You lied?" you repeated, raising your eyebrows. He nodded.
"More like I panicked," he added, then raked his fingers through his hair with a dry laugh. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm terrible at this, ain't I?"
You giggled and his face brightened at the sound.
"A little, but it's okay. It's cute," you told him, feeling your cheeks warm at your own admission. He grinned.
"Alright, then why didn't you call?" he asked again.
"I panicked," you replied, then after a pause, the both of you burst out laughing at exactly the same time.
"Goddamn, reckon we don't stand a chance, do we?" Joel said, tilting his head to the side, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling playfully.
"Well, I don't know about that. Why don't we find out?"
He immediately pulled out his phone.
"It's the least we could do. Y'know. For research."
"Research, huh?" but you couldn't keep the smile from tugging at your lips.
"Yeah. Can two panicky individuals who can't seem to properly flirt their way out of a paper bag make it work?"
"Sounds like a tagline for a terrible book," you teased while simultaneously snatching his phone out of his hand and typing your number into a new text. "How could I resist?"
"I promise this is where the cheesiness ends," he chuckled, pocketing his phone.
"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in that?"
Joel thought about it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Careful what you wish for, little lady, or else we'll be havin' a picnic in the park and watchin' the sunset for our first date."
You laughed heartily at that. "Pulling out all the cheesy stops?"
"Absolutely," Joel winked, making your heart flutter.
"Alright then. Do your worst," you said, a stupid grin still plastered across your face as you took a step back the way you came.
"I'm plannin' it all out already," he said, tapping the side of his head. You giggled and gave him a little wave goodbye before turning around and heading towards home.
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Joel didn't waste any time.
He had texted you within an hour with just a link and nothing else. You clicked it and immediately grinned when a website to a paint and sip place in downtown Austin opened up.
You: starting off strong - Painting with a Twist?
Joel: Get it? A twist? Because they serve alcohol there.
You laughed out loud alone in your living room. You thought the meds made him funny but you were delighted to discover he was still just as funny all on his own.
You: I got it, thanks. Very cheesy :)
Joel: So when can I take you? I want to see you paint the next greatest masterpiece.
You: I'm off the next two days and then I work the following four
Joel: You feel up for it tomorrow night? Or is that too soon?
You: tomorrow is great!
Joel: Looking forward to it, little lady.
To keep up with the cheesy theme, Joel picked you up the next evening with a singular red rose, which he had hidden behind his back so he could reveal it to you with a flourish, immediately making you laugh. He offered his arm as he led you down the driveway to his truck while commenting something about the weather but you weren't entirely certain because you couldn't stop staring at his hair, which was slicked back a bit since the last time you saw him and the longer you stared, you began to think he might have trimmed his beard, as well. You bit back your smile at the endearing effort he was putting into your date while trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that still wondered if this was going to get you in trouble at work.
When you arrived at the painting studio, you quickly realized the two of you were the youngest ones there, and not only that but Joel was the only man there. You stifled your laughter as you grabbed a couple drinks and picked your seats. Once behind the safety of your easels, you cupped your hand over your mouth and giggled into your palm. Joel chuckled and ducked down so nobody would overhear him.
"Am I allowed to be here?"
You began to laugh even harder, drawing the attention from some of the older women. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes and you shook your head.
"I don't know!" you wheezed when you finally got ahold of yourself. You took a deep breath and wiped your eye. "You couldn't have planned this any better." He laughed and rubbed his palm over his mouth when he began to get looks.
The painting that evening was a bouquet of white hydrangeas in a wide vase. Simple enough, or so you both thought. It became quickly apparent that Joel didn't have a creative bone in his body, and while you thought you weren't much better, when you glanced over at his and noticed his vase and flowers were beginning to take on a decidedly more phallic shape, you completely lost it.
He grinned when you had to drop your paintbrush so you could clutch your stomach while you doubled over, doing your best to keep as quiet as possible, but you were failing miserably. A lady nearby cleared her throat to convey her irritation so you slid down from your stool and told Joel you would be right back, then disappeared into the bathroom to collect yourself. By the time you emerged, the teacher who was leading the class had jumped in to try and help Joel create more distinguishable flowers, but it appeared to be a lost cause.
Once the class was over, the teacher went around to take pictures of everyone holding up their paintings with the people they came with that evening. When she got to you, Joel wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you close. Right before she took the picture, you leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to flush and his smile to reach his eyes.
When he dropped you off at home, he walked you to the door.
"So I was thinkin' for our second date we can either do bowling or trivia night," he said with a little smile. You cocked your head to the side as you thought about it.
"Both are excellent options. You can tell a lot about somebody by the way they handle winning and losing," you mused. He grinned and leaned his shoulder against your doorframe as he gazed down at you, waiting for you to decide. "Let's do bowling," you finally said. He gave a firm nod and straightened up.
"Bowling it is."
"After tomorrow, I work four nights in a row," you reminded him.
He shrugged. "So let's do it tomorrow."
"Really?" you asked, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Are you sure? What about your daughter?"
"I'm sure Tommy can watch her. And even if he can't, she's old enough now to stay on her own for a few hours."
You nodded and glanced down at your hands, clutching your painting at your side.
"What does she think about you dating?" you asked nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek and glancing back up at him.
"She's all for it. She's fourteen now, practically kicks me outta the house every chance she gets," he said with a chuckle.
You nodded again and tried to sound casual when you asked, "are you seeing anybody else, or..." You trailed off as you felt your face warm up, feeling slightly vulnerable, but he quickly put your mind at ease. He stepped forward and pinched your chin between his fingers, making you look up at him through your eyelashes.
"No," he said softly, "are you?"
You shook your head slightly, not wanting to lose his touch just yet. "No."
He smiled. "Good."
He tilted your face up a bit more then swooped down to press a gentle kiss against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine even though it was rather innocent.
"I'll see you tomorrow, little lady," he murmured before dropping his hand from your chin and taking a step back. You bit your lip and smiled.
"Can't wait."
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While Joel wasn't a very good painter, he turned out to be a rather good bowler. Better than you, at least, which wasn't saying much. So after a couple beers, you flirtatiously asked him to help you with your form, to which he eagerly agreed. He walked you up to the lane and stood behind you, squaring your shoulders and planting your feet just so while the bowling ball dangled at your side with a stupid grin on your face.
"Alright, now you're gonna wanna swing this leg back," he said, tucking his chin into your shoulder and reaching down to tap the front of your thigh. You giggled as his beard tickled your skin, which just caused him to do it even more. You laughed harder and tried to squirm away but he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you back against him, nuzzling into your neck enthusiastically. You twisted your head towards him, trying to protect your neck, but it was no use, so instead you pressed your lips against his, finally stopping his assault. Both of you were well aware of the public setting, surrounded by families, so you fought the urge to deepen the kiss but you did linger a little longer than was necessary before breaking away with a sigh. He smiled down at you, his cheeks a little pink, either from the alcohol or the public display of affection.
"I like you," he said earnestly.
"I like you, too," you whispered, watching the way his eyes sparkled. Even if it was only two dates, you could tell the connection you had was strong. You had to make it your mission to figure out the policy at work before things went any further.
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"Hey, Lily," you said the next day, getting the other nurse's attention.
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever dated anyone from here?" you asked as quietly as you could. She grinned and leaned against the counter.
"Oh, yeah. A few," she said mischievously before glancing around and leaning forward. "I went on a few dates with Dr. Adams last year. When I first started, I was hanging out with Richie, the pharmacist downstairs, but I swear when I found out he was married I broke it off. I felt bad about that one," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Oh! Then there was that one resident who worked here for a few months... Mike? He was tall with brown hair and had that tattoo-"
"No, I mean like, patients?" you tried again, and she pursed her lips.
"I've had a few ask me out but I never took them up on it. Why?"
"No reason," you said quickly, "but if you were interested, could you? Like, would we get fired or get our license revoked or something?"
She frowned and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Once a patient is discharged, it doesn't matter. If we worked in a doctor's office and it was a regular patient, that would probably be a different story, but we see so many people in the ER it's impossible to enforce something like that."
You breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled. "That's great."
She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "So are you gonna spill or what?"
"Me?" you squeaked, shaking your head innocently but Lily saw right through you.
"Who are you seeing?" she pressed, smacking her gum between her teeth. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the heat from reaching your cheeks.
"Remember that guy last week? The fox with the arm laceration in 504?"
Lily gasped. "Shut the fuck up!"
You smirked and nodded. "We've just been on two dates, nothing serious, but before I continued to see him I wanted to make sure I wouldn't get in trouble."
"I'm so jealous!" she groaned, stomping her feet dramatically. You laughed and turned back to your computer. You began to get back to the chart in front of you but she pulled up a chair and got a little closer so nobody would overhear. "How is he in bed?"
You gave her a look. "We haven't slept together. Did you not hear me say we've only been on two dates?"
She scoffed and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "That doesn't mean anything. If I went on two dates with a man like that, I wouldn't waste any time climbing him like a tree."
You both dissolved into a fit of giggles before the phone rang, warning you to get an exam room ready for a broken arm.
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Waiting four days to see Joel again was a lot harder than you expected, but lucky for you, on your last day, Joel surprised you at work with a coffee and chocolate croissant from the café you liked.
"You remembered!" you exclaimed when you opened the bag. He shrugged sheepishly but you could tell he was pleased with your reaction.
"'Course I remembered," he said, glancing around when Lily walked into the waiting room to call back a patient. Her eyes locked on the two of you and she gave you an exaggerated wink before leading an elderly man to the back. Joel grinned and looked at you.
"Friend of yours?"
"Unfortunately," you said sarcastically, making him smile. You glanced down at your watch and made a face. "I'm so sorry, I gotta get going but this was so sweet of you," you said, motioning towards your coffee and pastry.
"I just really wanted to see you again," he admitted, "it was a completely selfish move."
You giggled. "Well, thank you for the selfish coffee and treat."
"You're welcome. Still on for tomorrow night?" he asked, and you nodded.
"Picnic and stargazing. You're really checking things off that cheesy date list," you said with a laugh.
"You asked for it, don't you forget now," he replied before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss.
After he left, you made your way back to the nurse's station so you could deposit your goodies and pull up the next chart.
"Third date tomorrow?" Lily asked, rounding the desk. You nodded.
"Yep," you answered distractedly, reading the chart of a young boy with a minor head injury from a fall.
"You know what typically happens on the third date?"
You felt your skin heat up at the insinuation. "I'm going to regret telling you about him, aren't I?"
"Sure are. That was so close to being me, I'll never get over it."
You laughed and shook your head, leaving her question unanswered as you made your way back to the waiting room.
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As it turned out, a picnic and stargazing was incredibly romantic. Joel packed a simple meal: some cold pasta in olive oil, a light salad and some fruit. He had found a spot off a highway that overlooked downtown Austin, which was by far the cheesiest part of the date.
"Did you used to take girls here back in high school or something?" you teased as you sat on the hood of his truck, leaning against the windshield so you could see the stars.
"Me? Never. I was very respectable in high school. Never got into trouble, never skipped class and definitely never took the captain of the cheerleading squad up here after prom," he said with a grin. You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.
"You're trouble."
"Yeah, but you like it," he said, turning his head to the side so he could look at you. You tried to give him a stern look but you weren't selling it in the slightest.
"Okay, maybe I do," you admitted.
He smiled and laced his fingers together with yours, dragging his thumb over your knuckles for a minute, staring at your entwined hands while you continued to gaze upwards, the stars twinkling in the nearly clear, black sky.
"Can I tell you somethin' without you thinkin' I'm crazy?"
You rolled your head to look at him, your first instinct to tease him but his soft tone made you stop. "Sure."
"I keep waitin' to wake up or the other shoe to drop or whatever," he said, his gaze studying your face. "You just seem too good to be true," he added with a little grin.
"That's funny, I could say the same about you," you told him, but he shook his head.
"Nah, I mean it. How don't you already got a boyfriend?"
You sighed and looked back up at the sky. "I don't know. It's always been a little tough with my work schedule. I work so many overnights and it's hard for guys to understand that and work around it. Eventually things just... die off because I never get a chance to spend any real time with anyone."
He frowned and inched a little closer. "Their loss," he said. You turned to smile at him.
"You're not like that, though."
He shrugged. "I get it. I'm no stranger to havin' a busy schedule. I'm always haulin' Sarah 'round town to soccer games or friends' houses or after school activities. Don't bother me none."
You squeezed his hand affectionately before impulsively leaning over and pressing your lips against his. You could feel his surprise but he quickly reacted and brought a hand up to cup your face. He licked at the seam of your lips and you smiled before opening your mouth a fraction, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
The whole drive back to your place had you thinking about Lily's comment from the day before, and the closer and closer you got to home, the more nervous you felt.
When he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you reached up to hold the back of his neck, keeping him close. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you let out a small moan. He grabbed your hip and began kissing you harder, pushing you up against your door and sliding his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, stroking your skin there. You tipped your head back, breaking the kiss, both of you panting for air.
"Do you want to come inside?" you asked nervously. His gaze darkened and he licked his lips, but then you saw a tortured look flicker across his face.
"I can't," he said, sounding almost like it pained him to utter the words. "I can't leave Sarah alone overnight," he explained, taking a step back and rubbing his palms over his face. He dropped them to the side and you quickly blinked the disappointment from your eyes.
"It's okay, I understand," you told him, then reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.
"I promise, I really wanna come inside," he told you.
"I know," you said, "maybe next time."
He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Yeah, next time."
But it wouldn't be the next time. Or the time after that. Understandably so, Joel was waiting for a night where Sarah was at a sleepover to coincide with one of your free nights, explaining that he felt uncomfortable letting her know he wouldn't be coming home.
"Does she know about us?" you asked him one night.
"'Course she does. But it's just... awkward. At her age, she can read between the lines, y'know?"
"I get it," you had told him, trying to imagine what it would be like for you if at fourteen, your dad had essentially announced he wouldn't be home that night because he was going to get laid.
It made sense, but it didn't stop both of you from practically swallowing each other whole every chance you got, all your pent up sexual tension bubbling just under the surface with every glance and touch.
And finally, nearly two months into seeing each other, the stars aligned. Sarah was going on a school field trip to The Alamo, which coincidentally was scheduled on one of your rare weekends off.
Joel had every intention of taking you out to dinner and a movie, but when you opened the door and locked eyes, suddenly take out and a shitty movie on TV sounded much better.
You practically dragged him to your bedroom while shedding your clothes as quickly as you could, desperation rolling off both of you in waves as you fell into bed.
"Beautiful girl," Joel mumbled against your throat, sweat coating your skin as your writhed underneath him, his thick length slowly dragging in and out, making sure you felt every inch of him. "Wanted this for so long," he continued, then groaned when you clenched around him. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," he whispered when your slick began to spread over his thighs.
"Only for you," you managed to say, too focused on how your body thrummed with anticipation as you got closer and closer to your release.
"Yeah, that's right," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "All for me."
When you came, you whimpered his name into his shoulder, clutching onto him as the heat of your orgasm spread through every vein, reaching every inch of you. He followed shortly behind with a guttural moan muffled by his mouth pressing feverishly against yours, then you felt his muscles relax under your fingertips and his body sag. You pulled him down and he nuzzled against your throat as he fought for air, still nestled deep between your legs.
Neither of you felt much like leaving the bed, so you didn't. You ordered Chinese food takeout and watched some action movie you didn't really care for but it didn't matter because it primarily served as background noise while you pretended to fight over shrimp lo mein and shared an egg roll, the cartons spread out over your nightstands and your plates balancing in your hands.
You fell asleep before the movie ended but when you woke the next morning, tucked safely into Joel's side, the cartons of food were gone and the TV was off. You pressed a little kiss against his chest, silently thanking him for taking care of everything while you slept, but the movement made him stir. He sleepily opened his eyes, then a lazy smile spread across his face when he saw you already looking up at him.
"Mornin', little lady," he said, voice all rough and gravelly. You felt a pull in your lower stomach at the sound.
"Morning," you mumbled, pressing another kiss in the same spot.
Joel sighed and wrapped both arms around you, tugging you even closer and kissing the top of your head.
"I want you to meet Sarah."
He felt your muscles tense under his hands and then you slowly tipped your chin up to look him in the eye.
"Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Only if you wanna," he said quickly, but you shook your head and grinned.
"Y-yeah, I would love to, of course," you told him.
He planted a kiss on your lips, both your mouths curving into smiles.
"Good. Then it's settled. My two best girls are gonna meet," he said, sliding out from under the sheets to stand. You bit your lip, adoring the way he referred to you as one of his girls. "She's gonna love you. How 'bout a baseball game or the fair?" he offered, slipping his boxers on.
"Both sound great," you said dreamily, watching him saunter out of your bedroom. And as you ate breakfast across your kitchen table, sharing little smiles over eggs and toast, you couldn't help but feel hopeful and excited for what your future held together.
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celestialtarot11 · 21 days ago
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what can indicate someone making a lot of money in their career?
Signs for making 💰
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Sag sun—always working multiple jobs, having multiple interests. May be into stocks, trading, engineering, software engineering, marketing. May be into tourism.
Capricorn venus, Capricorn moon—Always working and grinding. Networks easily. But I notice with these placements they may go on to start a side job earlier than getting a full time job. That full time job may come later depending on aspects to the moon. Has a superseding reputation for their determination and professionalism.
For example capricorn moon aspecting saturn has had jobs come in later to their life. May not have had their first job until 20 and onward. They may have been working on a side hustle the entire time.
Jupiter 1h, Jupiter 10h—Success follows these individuals. Career opportunities opened themselves up to them. The more the native works on their mindset they become a manifesting success story! Though don’t be fooled these individuals have had to work on themselves immensely.
Venus asp jupiter—Cash flows in. Though with this placement the native can spend just as easily and create just as much as they lost. (Trine, sextile, conj.)
Venus 5h—makes money off of doing what they love! Most definitely has a side hustle alongside their job.
Aquarius, sun moon, rising—also can be known for their unique side hustles. May be into designing clothes of their own, making music, but there’s something so fleshed out and distinct about their side hustle people are attracted to. May have a blog, make music,
Gemini venus, sun, moon—very multifaceted in their skills. Almost everywhere and nowhere at once with how busy they are. Paired with Leo: they may have a high position in their community and attract a lot of people. It creates the perfect audience for them to sell to! May crochet or sell handmade items!
Leo sun, rising—Has a knack for presenting themselves in any community. Does well with meeting new people to gain new opportunities and experiences. Likable energy. Most likely to own a vlog, or a blog where they can talk and share their stories. Makes money off of being themselves. Very hardworking individuals and determined!
Scorpio rising—Works in silence, keeps their success limited to people who celebrate it. Highly successful, looked up to, and is intelligent with their finances. Knows how to save. They are a fixed sign so once they see something in their mind they will not stop until they manifest success!
Capricorn/saturn dom—knowing how to budget and is successful because of their ability to save money. Not just their job!
Libra moon/rising—May work in a job requiring long travels, be in a position where income is higher. They’re beauty and brains. Some men are construction workers with this placement and make a hell of a lot of money. If moon is in the 12h they’re more likely to travel long distances. Can become models, nurses, doctors.
Cancer 10h, libra moon, libra venus—Can work in home renovation, be a real estate agent. Makes a ton of money off of bringing in clients. If they have aspects to mercury, gemini, exalted mercury, they can talk anyone into buying a home or service.
Libra moon—may also know someone who offers them a higher paying job.
Saturn 3h—Very skilled individuals. Disciplined and goal oriented. Slow and steady wins the race. Takes their time to learn new skills in their career thus making them knowledgeable. Whereas their coworkers tend to gloss over—no these individuals tend to stay late hours and put in more effort. Had a huge chance of being recognized and moving up in their position.
Taurus 2h—Check where venus is placed. If making an aspect to jupiter, moon, the native can become financially successful. (Trine, sextile, conj)
Jupiter 2h—Controversial perspective but a lot of these natives feel as though they have enough money to get by. It just somehow comes in when they need it. Same for sag ruling 2h.
Virgo mercury, virgo 2h—Can be concerned with spending habits and analyze them. May budget a lot and try different methods for saving. Has a critical eye for finances. May make a monthly spreadsheet! Can be into nursing as well.
Venus 10h—If the benefic is positively aspected it’ll bring lots of success to the natives career. Chance to become widely known for their work. Their charm and interpersonal skills leas to success.
Aries sun—Competitive in the career field. Sun is exalted here so these natives truly want to be the best they can be. Authoritative, determined in their work. Grinds a lot. Similar to Capricorn but more extroverted. Passionate, enthusiastic, and it drives them to make great connections in their career.
Sun 6h—Brilliant ideas, determined and structured. Puts in energy to their work. Day to day activities yield long term results. Their determination is what really gets them there. Has a great relationship with their coworkers and bosses if positively aspected.
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avis-writeshq · 9 months ago
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heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!
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glue song – spencer reid
summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k
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“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 
“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”
You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 
“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”
You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”
He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”
“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”
He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 
“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”
He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”
“I’m being serious!”
He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”
A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”
*** 
From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 
“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”
“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”
You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”
“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”
“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”
His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”
“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.
You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?
“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”
You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”
He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”
Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”
It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 
You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 
Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 
“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 
“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 
“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”
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magiccath · 11 months ago
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The Ring
tenth doctor x f!reader
Summary: In which the only way for you and the Doctor to get out of this one is a fake marriage. But how fake is it really?
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You keeled over, your breath coming out in short pants. You weren't as good at this running thing as the Doctor was. 
Sensing you weren’t behind him, the Doctor turned to check on you. You threw your thumb up, signaling that you were okay. You didn’t like the Doctor worrying about you. 
“I’m sure we’ve lost them for now,” he assured, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that he had.
“What are we going to do?” You asked once you had caught your breath. You allowed your legs to fold underneath you, sitting in the grass. The Doctor crouched down next to you. 
It was supposed to be a nice vacation, a break from the hustle and bustle of time traveling. You had explicitly asked for a relaxing trip, one where you didn’t have to save the world or run for your life. You should have known that was never how it was with the Doctor. 
Everything was fine at first. The alien town the Doctor had selected for your trip was throwing an elaborate festival. You were more than happy to partake in the dancing and sample the foreign foods. What you failed to notice was the ritual behind the festival. The village selected an unmarried woman each year to sacrifice to their gods. In retrospect, it wasn’t the weirdest ritual you had encountered over the years. What made it so uncomfortable was the fact they had selected you. 
“I would rather not be a blood sacrifice,” you admitted, pushing your wayward hair out of your face. 
“I won’t let that happen,” The Doctor said seriously, taking your hand gently. He had the duty of care, something that he didn’t take lightly. 
“I’m not sure how much good we are against a whole village of bloodthirsty aliens,” you laughed, burying your head in your hands. You should have been scared, upset even. Instead, you found the whole thing funny. You supposed that was a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Everything could always be worse, and everything in front of you could always be funny. You just had to frame it the right way.
“I have an idea,” the Doctor murmured. You looked up at him, confused. He only whispered things when he knew you wouldn’t like them. 
“They only want to sacrifice you because you’re unmarried,” he stated. You stared at him, unsure of the point he was trying to make. 
He groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration. 
“I’m gonna need you to spell this one out for me,” you laughed lightly.
The Doctor swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively. “We could get married,” he said matter-of-factly, with the same tone he used to ask if you wanted tea or coffee in the morning. 
“What?” you asked, wide-eyed. The Doctor swallowed again, his eyes diverting from yours. 
You loved the Doctor, in every sense of the word. He was your home, your comfort. He was everything and more to you. But he only loved you as a friend, and you were more than willing to accept that love. It was better to love him like this than not at all. 
“They can’t sacrifice you if we get married.” 
“No, I got that part,” you rushed out, waving your hands about anxiously.
“You,” you sighed, pausing before continuing, “marry me?” 
“To save your life, yes,” the Doctor said like it was the simplest thing in the world. He would walk to the ends of the universe for you. He had.
“Can we do that?” you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. The whole thing felt too good to be true. 
“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather fake-marry,” he smiled, taking your hands in his again. 
You grinned, the smile taking over your whole face. The Doctor loved it when you smiled like that. He loved it even more when he made you smile like that. 
“Let’s get fake married!” you laughed, jumping up from the grass. The Doctor nodded in agreement, standing up next to you. 
“How exactly…” you trailed off. “Are we going to get fake married?” The Doctor had a habit of making plans without a way to execute them. 
It wasn’t like you could just walk into the village church and get married. You certainly couldn’t go back to the TARDIS, or that would have been the plan before suggesting a falsified marriage.
“There was a little cottage on the outskirts of town, we can hope that there’s an inhabitant there who can serve as a witness?” He suggested. 
You couldn’t come up with a better idea so you agreed, following the Doctor as he walked off into the distance. 
You tried not to read too much into the whole marriage thing. The Doctor was doing it to save your life, nothing more. Still, the mere idea of it left your skin tingling and your heart racing. 
You were so lost in thought you hardly noticed the cottage creeping up on you until you were standing on the front steps. 
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the wood softly before stepping back. You waited in silence for a few moments. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What if this didn’t work? 
The door flung open, revealing an old woman. 
“What do you want?” She barked, clearly disturbed by the visit. 
The Doctor cleared his throat, searching for his words. You frowned, he usually didn’t have any trouble talking to strangers. 
“This is a bit of a strange request,” he laughed lightly, his hand drifting towards the back of his neck subconsciously. 
“Spit it out, young man.” 
You bit back a giggle. The Doctor was far from young, even if this face was youthful. 
“We need a witness for our wedding,” he rushed, his words coming out in hurried clusters. 
The woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of you. You could see hundreds of questions forming in her mind before she shook them away. 
“I don’t want to know,” she murmured as she opened the door. 
You exchanged a look of relief with the Time Lord before following her inside. 
She bustled about her cottage, sorting things out while the two of you fiddled anxiously in the corner. 
“Well, let's get on with it,” she finally sighed. 
The Doctor nodded timidly, holding out his hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, your fingers interlocking instantaneously. You had held hands hundreds of times, yet it felt different.
With his other hand, the Doctor rifled about in the pockets of his coat. You frowned, wondering what could possibly be in there. Did he really need a jammy dodger from the depths of his pocket right now? Finally, his hand slipped out of the pocket holding two silver rings. 
“Why, on Earth, are you carrying around wedding bands?” you laughed. He only shrugged, handing the simple rings over to the old woman. She examined the objects in her hand wistfully, turning them over in her hand. 
“I can’t say I’m a professional at this,” she warned. It didn’t really matter to either of you.
The Doctor took your other hand in his, standing face-to-face with you. You laughed at the domesticity of it. 
“Do you,” the woman paused, looking at the Doctor. 
“John Smith,” The Doctor smiled. You shook your head at his fake name. You had told him hundreds of times that he should change it. No one was really named John Smith, that's the kind of name you only ever found in books. 
“Alright,” the woman said, not even blinking. “Do you, John Smith, take this woman to love and hold blah, blah, blah?” She finished, looking back to the Doctor. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were glued to you, studying every single aspect of your face. He never wanted to forget this moment. From your end of things, you were left with a sickly feeling that you had food on your face. 
“I do,” He smiled brightly. 
“And you?” she turned to you, repeating the process. 
“Absolutely,” you grinned. 
The woman handed you each a ring, which you placed on the other’s hand. You noted the slight shake in the Doctor’s hands as he slipped the silver band onto your finger.
You had always wanted to get married. Sure, you never imagined it like this. Standing in some random cottage in a pair of worn-out jeans exchanging wedding bands in order to save your life was never your plan. Even still, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You may kiss the bride,” The old woman chided, looking at you two disapprovingly. You were so busy looking into the Doctor’s eyes that you completely forgot about the whole kissing part of getting married. 
A scarlet flush overtook your face, but the Doctor pretended not to notice. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands gently, angling it upwards towards his. Slowly, he dipped his way down until his lips were inches away from yours. 
You could feel his breath on your mouth, you noted each and every twitch of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he eliminated the gap, his mouth crashing into yours. 
He very well could have given you a chaste kiss, the kind you give your gran on Christmas Eve. Instead, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about kissing you for eons. 
His mouth fit against yours perfectly. There was no other way to describe it. 
He pulled away slowly, leaving you stunned and breathless. Your eyes remained closed for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally opened, you saw him. Your Doctor. The impossible, magnificent, loving creature in front of you. It was foolish to claim that such a being was yours alone, but you couldn’t see it any other way. 
“Congratulations,” the old woman smiled, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, pushing your hair out of your face. 
-
You didn’t keep the ring on long. A few days after your wedding it came off with the rest of your jewelry before bed. You just never put it back on. It was a fake wedding after all. 
That didn’t mean that you threw it away though. Quite the opposite. The ring sat on your bedside table, occasionally glimmering in the light. 
Sometimes, you would run your fingers over it before bed. You relished the idea of it all. The memory of his hands holding yours, the feeling of his lips on yours. It haunted you.
The Doctor, however, never took it off. Not after the wedding. Not before bed. Not when he fiddled with the wires under the TARDIS console. 
You noticed this one evening, the dimmed lights of the control room catching on the polished metal. 
“Why do you still wear that?” you asked, gesturing to the Doctor’s left hand. His eyes traveled to the band on his finger that he had been idly spinning. 
“It’s my wedding band,” he shrugged as if it was as simple as that. 
“I’m not sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I’m not even sure our wedding was legal.” 
“It doesn’t have to be,” he frowned, still looking at the ring. 
“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he suggested. He didn’t want to take it off, not ever. But if you wanted him to, he would. 
“It doesn’t,” you whispered, staring at the space where your own ring used to be. The feeling of his lips came back to you, and you had to push it to the side. 
“Did it mean nothing to you?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening you might have missed it. 
“Not at all,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. 
“You don’t wear yours,” he commented, taking your left hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, not trusting yourself to meet his eye. 
“You married me to save my life,” you stated. 
“And?” 
“It was a fake marriage.” 
“Not to me,” he whispered, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes drifted up to his face. He was looking at your hand with a pained expression. For the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps the absence of your ring was upsetting to him. For so long, you had assumed that he just wanted to forget the whole thing. 
“I love you,” he whispered, “I always wanted you to be my wife.” 
You didn’t know what to say. For a minute, you hardly believed the words coming from his mouth. 
“I always wanted you to be my husband,” you whispered, leaning in towards him. You paused, your breath bouncing off of his lips. It reminded you of your first kiss, the familiarity of it shocking. 
You learned in and kissed him gently, a tender kiss to test the waters. You pulled away, unsure if this was what he wanted. The Doctor gripped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a much more urgent matter. You smiled against his mouth, melting into the kiss. 
“My wife,” he chuckled between the kisses he planted all over your face. 
“My husband.”
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 1 month ago
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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 9
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Source for pic
The Great Pretender 9
Word Count: 4512
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.
Masterlist |Chapter 8| | |Chapter 10🔞|
Your soft, steady breaths are like music to Law’s ears. After shedding all the tears you had in you for that bastard, you were so tired that you immediately fell asleep, curled up against his chest.
Where you belong.
Law closes his eyes tightly, trying to gather his thoughts. This was all supposed to be fake and he couldn’t hold his feelings together for one freaking weekend. He knew it was dangerous when he asked you to do this, he knew that sometimes boundaries blur and bend and things that weren't supposed to happen, happen. Like it obviously did.
He had been so rattled by his uncle - he should have foreseen that he was going to use Monet, it was so obvious! - so insecure about your feelings, and about himself, about how he was believing every word out of Doffy’s mouth and distrusting you. Knowing you were there for him but not knowing for sure if you would leave him for more. Just like Monet had. 
He let himself lose control, and his feelings for you stirred violently like a storm. You are so much more than just a ruse for him. You are special. You make him feel things he long forgot how to feel, to see life in colour again, instead of just black and white. You make him plan for a far-off future and want to be more. More than just a doctor, more than part of the Donquixote family. More.
And he almost threw that away just to hear you say that you belong to him…
“I’m yours, all yours Law.”
You’d said it. Without the signal. The words had come out of your mouth and they rang so sweet in his ears. He’d been thinking about it, even before he asked you to be his fake girlfriend. Of how it would feel to have you by his side, to call you truly his. But he’d soon forgotten that fleeting dream. He didn’t have girlfriends. He wasn’t built for relationships, that dream had been shattered a long time ago. 
Yet, now, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms, feeling the pang of hurt and the slow spread of the embers of anger, after hearing you speak about the relationship you had with your ex, realisation hits him like a blow to the nose.
He really wants this - you!
Everything you have to offer him: every smile, every taunt, every giggle and glint in your eyes. But he also wants your broken pieces, your sadness, your sorrow, your guilt and your shame. 
He’s a genius. He can help put you back together, support you on your path until you become stronger and sturdier. By his side. 
A soft whine and a hiccup escape your lips as you take a deep breath, your body still tired and reacting to all the tears you’ve shed, and Law pulls you closer to him. 
He can’t help but notice how well you fit into his arms, as if you were moulded just for him.
Moulded. Fuck.
This is what’s keeping him awake, ultimately. It’s not just you in his arms. It’s the fact that you spent four years of your life in a fucked-up relationship with an asshole who didn’t appreciate you. Worse than that, he made you feel small, unimportant and disposable.
Law feels like punching something.
He uses surgery hours as an outlet for his frustration and anger. There is something about the steady tick-tock of the clock, the light beeping and buzzing of the machines, the ventilator breathing air into a patient's lungs and his steady hands making precise surgical cuts. Something that climbs the borders of saving lives and transcends him.
It's a way to control his own life, to bring steadiness and calm into an otherwise chaotic mind. Because as cool and collected Law always appears, inside there's a raging beast waiting to be unleashed. 
And the sight of your tears, your vulnerability, your broken - shattered - mind makes the beast roar and rattle its cage, demanding to be let out, clamouring for blood. 
Law shuts his eyes even tighter, smothering away the remnants of fury forcing their way out of his system. He places his nose near your head and inhales your shampoo, a scent so characteristically yours that does more to cage the beast inside than ten straight hours of surgery ever could. 
He realises you didn't tell him the name of your ex. Law can very well add two and two together, so it's quite clear that he knows, or that you think he might know who your ex is. You've let slip some details: his father is a powerful man and owns a big company, though you didn't tell him what kind of business the company is in. You said he frequented a lot of events, so he's from an influential family or, at least, has a lot of money. He's from Grand Line City, though that fact is basically useless since it's an overly populated, bustling city. 
This doesn't narrow it down much. Assholes with a lot of money are a dime a dozen. He doesn't even have to go too far, Doflamingo is just in the other wing of the mansion. 
With a sigh that screams finality and closure, Law lets it go. If you didn't mention it, it’s because he doesn't need to know, or you don't want him to. Both perfectly valid reasons. He also didn't want you to know about Monet. What a fucking mess. Now you know and your purpose didn't waver one bit.
As sleep finally claims him, the last thought on Law's mind is that his trust in you wavered, but it's now built up so high that he's willing to bet everything he owns on how you won't disappoint him. Not even if Doflamingo brings his big guns. 
Whatever they may be. 
-*-
You don’t dislike mornings. They might not be your favourite thing in the world, but they aren’t the worst. Sometimes you like to spend a few extra minutes in bed, lazing around because there is nowhere softer than your bed. 
Except today you aren’t in your own bed. 
Yet, you have never felt safer or more content than at this exact moment. Even without opening your eyes, your brain clicks into place and you know why. Law. You remember him holding you, though you don’t really remember falling asleep. 
With a contented sigh, you open your eyes and see a pair of soft amber orbs gazing at you. He seems so bare without his stern gaze, it’s a sort of vulnerability - you notice - but not like the unhinged one he showed you last night. This vulnerability doesn’t stem from pain or sorrow… it’s… affection?
“Morning.” He whispers and you smile.
You don’t remember being this entangled with him when you fell asleep. You only had your head on his chest now, it would appear that sometime during the night, you shifted and draped your leg over his, arms hugging his torso tightly.
You should let go.
There’s an annoying voice in your head telling you this is wildly inappropriate, that it’s crossing some kind of unspoken barrier, yet he doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the proximity and you’re experiencing bliss. So you don’t move. Not yet, at least.
“Morning.” You say back to him. Your voice is still throaty and scratchy and, for a moment, you can’t remember why it’s like this, until images of Ichiji flash through your mind, erasing your smile and darkening your gaze.
Law shifts slightly and you think you’re overstaying your welcome so you start to move. Instead, he pulls you tighter, his hand tipping your chin to keep you looking at him. “It’s all in the past, okay?” His fingers climb and graze your ear, where your earring would be if you were wearing one. The signal. “You’re with me now. I’m the only one allowed in your mind, sweetheart, understand?”
He uses that velvety voice, laced with a hint of authority and you clench your thighs instinctively. He might’ve said that for the purposes of your fake relationship, but he’s right. Ichiji is past and he has no more right to claim space in your mind. 
“Use your words, you know I like to hear you speak.” The drawl in his voice is more pronounced in the morning, you notice, raspier, sexier. Just another fact to add to the never-ending list of things you now know about Trafalgar Law. What will you do with all that information when you inevitably part ways?
You take a deep breath, blush and look to his chest before opening your mouth, but the words remain frozen in your throat when his whisper tickles your forehead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too soon for these games! And you're pressed so close to him that you’re sure he can feel the way your nipples hardened at his gentle command. Yet you’re compelled to do as he says so you look up, lips parted, small, panted breaths escaping them and flushed cheeks. There’s a hint of something in his gaze, something darker than lust, bordering on obsession, but you dismiss it quickly.
“I understand, Law.” You reach and use the signal in his ear, just a faint touch, but he doesn’t stop your hand, so you let it fall down and trace the curve of his perfect jawline, then your ghost of a touch moves to his neck and collarbone. You see his throat bob up and down and the fact that you might be affecting him exhilarates you, so you press on. Your fingers trace down his T-shirt and follow the shape of his pecs, lingering on the nipple and he hums low, not quite a warning, he must be enjoying your touch. “I will only be thinking about you…” Your eyes drop to the way his chest heaves slightly and you catch your lower lip with your teeth to contain a satisfied sound.
The hand he has on your back climbs up and he entangles his fingers in your hair, gripping them and tilting your head gently so you can return your gaze back into his eyes. You let out a gasp, they’re dark with desire. “And what will you be thinking about, exactly? What will I be doing in that pretty little head of yours?”
Your leg is still entangled with his and you have to fight your desire to shift and straddle him, but your fingers keep going lower. They trace his abs now and they’re as firm as a wall. Your head starts to fill with deep fantasies about what Law could be doing to you in your head, but they’re all so real and consuming, and you’re both in such an already vulnerable position, that you know any spark can ignite this flame between you, so you swallow hard and sigh. 
“Kissing. You’re kissing me.” That should be safe enough, right?
Wrong.
Law grabs your hand just as you - unconsciously - hook a finger on the waistband of his pants. Boundaries, boundaries! Stupid decision! Yet he doesn’t say anything, he simply rolls you over, his knee slotted between your legs, just as you were before, and he raises both your hands above your head. His eyes devour your surprised expression as a lone gasp leaves your lips. 
“You know what to do to get me to kiss you, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Beg.
“Please, Law…” You don’t even try to fight it. He’s watching you with hungry eyes, hair unkempt into perfection, a sleepy, dreamy look on his features and you need him to kiss you.
“Please what?” He leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours, and your hands twitch instinctively, but he’s holding them in place. His other hand presses slightly against your neck, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb.
“Kiss me! Please kiss me, Law, pl-mmmph.” He swallows your pleas as his lips crash against yours.
You can feel him pressed against your thigh, and the thought makes you moan softly into his kiss. He uses that opening to take your tongue in his and deepen the kiss. It’s desperate, it’s lustful, it’s-...
Knock, knock, knock.
Over.
Law grunts and rolls off you, recovering his voice way faster than you ever could. “Who is it?” However, you can detect a hint of impatience and annoyance. 
“It’s me!” Cora answers and Law sighs. He gets up, slightly adjusts his pants, and, checking back to see if you’re covered, opens the door with a scowl. “Morning, Law! I’m so sorry to bother you two so early, I really am!” He does sound sorry. “Baby 5 wanted to let everyone know that she moved the brunch one hour earlier because she has games planned for after and she doesn’t want anyone to be late. Especially you two.” He lowers his voice. “She loved your girlfriend, Law! We all did.”
You blush and smile to yourself. You must be doing something right, then. Law’s family liked you. Well… maybe not Doflamingo yet, but you don’t need him to like you, you just need him to leave Law alone. 
When Law speaks, his voice is warmer. “Sure thing, Cora. We’ll get ready soon. Thank you for letting us know.”
“Anytime! Ouch!” You hear the sound of glass tinkering and something crashing before Law sighs and Cora says ‘I’m okay! It was just a vase!’ 
When Law closes the door, you’re already up and heading towards the bathroom. “I’ll be ready soon.” You state before closing the door. 
Slumping your body forward, you grasp the porcelain of the sink, taking rapid, shallow breaths. What is going on? You two keep using the signal and saying things like ‘If this were real…’ yet, you’re thinning the borders of the boundaries, mixing emotions and lust and sorrow from your past. You should stop.
For both your sakes, you should stop.
Perhaps you should not touch each other outside the pretence in front of Law’s family. Because he kisses you with such ferocity that it’s as if you’re his. Like you belong to him, though you’re just friends. But are you really just friends?
This tension and attraction keep building and expanding and there’s only so much space to take before it explodes, consuming you both. 
And by all that is sacred, how you wish to be consumed by Trafalgar Law. You want to give everything of yourself to him, to drown in his golden gaze, to be lost inside his kiss, to feel all of him within you. 
Could it be so wrong, if you gave in to your desires? You’re sure he wants you too… It's mutual. But… would it be too complicated, emotionally?
You sigh and start to work on your morning routine. You’ll just have to get through this weekend without entangling yourself further. Once you’re both out of this stifling, constricting environment, you’ll deal with whatever it is you share.
Or might share.
-*-
As with dinner last night, brunch and the afternoon games require a semi-casual fit and you select another cocktail dress. The rehearsal dinner is formal, though, so you and Law will have to change before dinner time. 
“You look stunning.” Is his usual compliment, one you should already be accustomed to but, as you become more aware of the growth of your feelings for this man, the more flustered you get. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t let Doffy mess with your head today.” Law seems much more composed this morning. Maybe after the initial shock of interacting with his uncle again - and now that Doffy doesn’t have the same ammunition as he did yesterday - Law won’t let himself be rattled by his provocations so easily. 
“Maybe I should say the same?” You smile and he grunts back an agreement. “So, brunch and games? What kind of games?”
Law sighs as you both exit your room, his hand holding yours, just as he did yesterday. Yet, today, you can’t help a tingle of electricity from climbing up your arm at his touch. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’ You have to shake your head to get rid of your thoughts. You’ll never be able to forget those words. 
Just four words alone can undo you. 
“Who knows what games… Baby 5 is all about internet trends and Pinterest aesthetics. I’m sure it’s something boring, dumb and flashy.” You giggle at his silliness as you both descend the steps. Baby 5 told you yesterday that more guests would be spending the day at the mansion as part of the wedding festivities, so you’re already expecting more people, about a dozen more or so, as is usual in rehearsal dinners. But as soon as you step outside to the garden, you gasp. There have to be about fifty more people than yesterday. It already feels like a small wedding. 
Does Law know all of these people? 
Pressure starts to build in your temples as you think about all the people you are now required to fool. What if you can't do it? What if someone knows Law from childhood and asks you a question you don't know how to answer? Can one question alone crumble this facade?
Biting your lower lip and squeezing Law's hand tighter, you start to mumble about Law's education growing up, and private tutors, as well as all the extracurricular activities he took in high school. Will it come up? Probably not, but it's better to be prepared and-... 
“Relax.” Law's soothing voice against your ear makes you whimper and shiver. He startled you since you were so deep in thought, but your reaction wasn't about the jump scare. It was the tingling that's still warming your skin, the electricity that shook you to your core. How are you going to survive two and a half more days of this tension? 
You take a deep, steadying breath as Law squeezes your hand back. “You've got this, sweetheart.”
“We’ve got this.” You correct him and he chuckles. 
As you delve deeper into the party, you get a good look around. The garden is huge and luscious, with abundant greenery and beautiful flowers. The white and golden tents where the rehearsal dinner and the eventual wedding will be held tomorrow, cast an ethereal feeling over the scene, a sort of fairytale-like feeling. Brunch is being served outside the tents, on a small patio. There are rows of tables with every food imaginable and your stomach rumbles just by looking at it. 
“Hungry?” Law asks with a chuckle. 
“Yeah.” You whisper. “It's been an eventful night. I could eat!” Crying makes people hungry, apparently. 
You and Law make your way to the buffet and fix yourselves a plate, all the while Law keeps introducing you to people: family friends, investors, business partners… He knows everybody. It's overwhelming. The way he handles these people makes you wonder why he doesn't want to follow in Doflamingo’s footsteps. He'd be wonderful at it, he's a natural, though you notice he seems a bit stiffer than his usual self. As a doctor, he’s so much more at ease and it dawns on you that it’s most likely because he loves what he does. 
Law's speaking with an important investor a few feet away from you, and you find yourself staring at him, a strawberry dangling over your lips as you take him in: tanned skin, golden eyes, sharp features and beautiful dark hair. Fuck. He's perfect. You bite the strawberry and suck, your eyes darting to his lips and thinking about the smouldering soul-shattering kisses you shared yesterday and this morning. 
“Oh, to be a strawberry, right now.” You swallow hard and stifle a cough, having been brought out of your fantasy world by a whisper near your ear. A cold, shiver-inducing whisper. 
“Doflamingo, sir!” You gasp, trying to regain your composure and shake away the cold chills that linger on your skin. 
“What was that pretty head of yours thinking about so seriously, princesa?” He hums low, his figure hunkering down over you, making you feel small and trapped. But you are intent on not letting him get to you. 
Squaring your shoulders you train your smile back onto your lips. “I was just observing your nephew, sir. It's like he's in his element speaking with investors. He has a lot of business savvy.” Your smile softens as Law locks eyes with you, his gaze hardening as he sees Doffy next to you. 
Doffy's chuckle is cold and calculated. “Cariño, I know he's perfect for the job. He just never wanted it. Maybe you can convince him?” Your head whips to the side as your eyes bore into his. You can see the red glinting behind his sunglasses and it's like it's piercing straight into your soul. 
“I would never.” You relish in the way Doffy's smile falters. He was probably waiting for you to cater to his needs, trying to please him. “Law is a gifted surgeon, a wonderful doctor and very passionate about his job. He might be good with business matters, as he's good with everything he sets his mind to, but it's not his calling.”
Law approaches and catches the ending of your speech. His hand slithers and takes hold of your waist pulling you against him. The way he smiles at you warms your heart and you lose yourself in his gaze once more. 
You are so doomed. You're in way too deep. Going back to being friends after this is going to destroy you. 
“You're right, sweetheart, as I've told my uncle repeatedly.” Law's smile as he rests his eyes on his uncle is as surgical as his operations. To his credit, Doffy's is as intimidating as the man himself. Somehow you have the perception that you're standing in the midst of a battle from a war that started long ago. And you feel very out of place. 
“Ah, indeed nephew, you have. But we shall discuss that matter further some other time.” He places his hand near his heart again as his gaze pins you down and you shiver in Law's arms. “Princesa, you're welcome to join me at my table.” He picks up a bowl of strawberries and raises his eyebrow with a lustful smirk. 
Your face flushes so hard that you fear you might combust on the spot. All you trust yourself to do is shake your head, but Law's hand is already pulling you away. “Thank you Doffy. We politely decline.”
-*-
“There's so many people here today…” You murmur as Law pulls you by the waist, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “And they keep staring. People don't really expect to see you with a girl, Law!”
Law grunts and keeps pulling you until he finds a small empty table where you both sit with your food plates. 
“That's not it, sweetheart.” His voice seems strained. 
“What's not it?” You flush under the scrutiny of some investors you saw Law speak with earlier and fidget with your hair. Is there something wrong?
“They're not looking because they don't expect to see me with a girl nor because there's something amiss with your appearance.” He brushes your hand aside, releasing the hair you managed to trap back in your hairdo to how it was. “It's because you're breathtaking.” He sounds annoyed as he says it, and yet you still blush deeper. 
“Shut up, Law.” You sound like a petulant child. But a flattered one. “You're wrong.”
“Sweetheart, I'm never wrong. And these people should learn that staring at what's mine comes with a cost.” He growls as his eyes squint and you can't help a flutter from twisting your stomach. There's that word again: mine. You should feel angry at him for being this possessive, instead, it makes you feel safe and protected. Like he can keep all that can harm you away from you. 
“I'm yours, Law?” You can't help the words from fleeing from your mouth. 
‘I'm yours, Law, all yours.’ You'd said the words. 
The corner of his lips curls as his piercing eyes pin you to the spot. “You are for the weekend.”
Push, keep pushing so you can lose control. 
“How about after?”
His throat bobs up and down and he takes a long gulp of his coffee. “We’re supposed to go our own way. Go back to being friends.” The strain in his voice is nothing compared to the clenching in your chest. 
Push some more. Push. Even if your heart is clenching, your mind keeps telling you to go on. 
“So you won't mind if I date another man?” Law's coffee cup almost shatters with the force he bangs it against the table. Your lips part to let out an amused gasp as the flutter in your belly increases tenfold. 
To his credit, after a dark shadow passes across his eyes, Law quickly regains his composure. “Let's talk about that after this weekend, shall we?” The slight sharpness of the usual velvet of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. 
Can you push a little more until he gives you what you want? 
But what do you want, really? To see how far you can push him until he makes his claim? Until he pins you somewhere and claims your lips with his? It's embarrassing how much you want to get lost in him again, how easily you'll fold if he so much as looks at you a certain way. 
This hold he has on you is scary. And so exciting. “Why not now, Law? I could start networking…” You glance at the guests with a glint in your eye, successfully bothering Law so much that he starts fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “So many choices.”
You are still finishing your sentence when Law hooks his hand beneath your chair and drags it all the way next to his with a very loud screech. He only stops when his face is inches from yours. “Say that again, sweetheart. Say it while looking right into my eyes.” He sounds a little bit unhinged, maybe you’ve pushed far enough. 
Or have you? 
You touch his earring lightly while a smirk graces your lips. “I'm just stating the obvious, there are so many single-...” You don't finish your sentence because his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you and capturing your lips with his and it isn't in the innocent way he pecks you when in public. It's in the very fiery, soul-shattering way you’re already growing addicted to. 
“Law…” You whisper when he finally lets go, after Baby 5 and some of the younger guests start to cheer you on, your ears as red as a tomato. 
“Gotta let them know you're taken, sweetheart, they keep staring.” Your lower lip is still tingling and burning from the contact as he smirks at you. 
Then he continues to eat the food on his plate as if he hasn't just rocked your world in front of all the guests. 
And he didn't use the signal. 
-*-
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @jqperi @rainbow2312 @ren-ni
|Chapter 10🔞|
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mothwingwritings · 2 months ago
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Cherished Gift
F!Reader X Zayne (Love And Deepspace)
Look, I know this is coming out of left field but I did not want to let my husband Zayne Love and Deepspace’s birthday pass by without at least trying to write/post something. I hustled to get this out, it’s truly probably the quickest I have written something lol. It’s little and a bit rushed, but I hope you all enjoy!!! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAYNE! It’s all about you today, my Virgo king! <3
Warnings: NSFW, Mentions of sex and sexual themes so 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!! Other than that, it’s all just fluff and love my darlings! <3 There is very little editing, though.
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Witnessing an uncomposed Zayne was a very rare sight. His default state was to be the stoic and stern doctor, exhibiting a frosty countenance and no-nonsense demeanor that would make anyone in his presence want to instantly be on their best behavior. It was such a natural state for him that it often aggravated you, as you felt that his outward presentation kept so many people from getting to know the true Zayne, and what a loving, giving, warm person he actually was. 
But currently, that grim doctor was nowhere to be found. In his place was a blissed out, disheveled mess, half clothed and panting as he lounged in his plush recliner. Sweat made his hair stick to his flushed forehead, his red tinted cheeks making him look almost cherubic were it not for the fire that smoldered in his emerald eyes, and throbbing dick still buried deep inside of you.
Even in his post coitus haze, his eyes never once left your form. He drank you in with as much interest now as he had while you were writhing and bouncing on his cock, maybe even more so now that he wasn’t completely lost in the thralls of pleasure. Though you were pleased with your work, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by his unwavering attention, especially considering that Zayne wasn’t the only one left in such a sloppy state.
The lingerie set you had purchased especially for his birthday celebration had long since been discarded (it was incredible really, just how quickly the skimpy fabric gave way to his feverish hands), and your makeup and hair that you had fretted over for hours  was now nothing more than a smeared mess and chaotic tangle. Part of you wanted to dismount him right away and run to the restroom to freshen up, take a moment to remove the saliva and bits of cum that still lingered around your lips from your first go around with him. But you couldn’t find yourself pulling away from him, and minor embarrassment aside, Zayne did not appear to care how filthy you looked. His eyes still held on to you with such wanton reverence that you couldn’t help but blush, drinking in your unkempt appearance with a warmth that made your heart melt.
After several moments of silence that were broken only by the rasps of your choppy breathing, you felt him start to soften inside of you. The hands you had planted firmly on his chest noticing his heart beat steady, the electric energy buzzing in the air during your love making diminishing into a pleasant aura of peace.
Slowly, you climbed off him, his hands reluctantly falling from your waist as you did so. With a wave of your hand you motioned him to scoot over, which once done, you nestled beside him, burrowing yourself into the crook of his arm. He wrapped the limb around you tightly, keeping you pressed firmly to his side as he planted a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
Once you had settled in, you spoke up. “So,” a playful lilt tinged your voice as you looked up at the man holding you so lovingly, “How would you rank your birthday thus far? It at least has to be better than working, right?”
He answered with a pleased hum, “This is the best birthday I have ever had. I’ve been completely spoiled.” His hand traveled to your head, lazily massaging his fingers against your scalp, “But you may have created a monster. Now I am going to start expecting this treatment every birthday.”
 You giggled, “Lucky for you, this is only the tip of the iceberg! I’ll spoil you rotten for every one of your birthdays if you let me~”
It was Zayne’s turn to laugh, a small smile creeping across his lips, “Are you just trying to get me indebted to you?” He scrubbed your head, giving you another chaste kiss, “Because there is no need, you won’t ever have to bribe me for my affection. Everything I have I give to you freely. Your presence alone is enough of a treat, and your love is a gift I will forever cherish.”
“Zayne,” snuggling your face closer to his chest, you hoped to hide the deep crimson brought on by his earnest admission, “… I could spend hours talking and never be able to explain how much you mean to me. Words shy in comparison to the depths of my feelings, but… I love you. I will always love you, Zayne.”
With your heart felt confession lingering in the air, you spent the next several minutes glued to each other’s side in a comfortable silence. As you watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, your eyes began to grow heavy, the exertion of the day’s prior activities finally catching up to you. While you were swiftly being carried off to dream land, you felt Zayne  moving beside you. The lack of warmth made you crack your eyes, your sleepy gaze watching as he repositioned himself atop you.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “I was going to take you to bed so you could sleep more comfortably.”
You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head a bit. “No, it’s OK. I am glad you woke me up. I don’t want to spend the rest of your birthday sleeping, I want to spend it with you.”
He smiled at the innocent delivery of your words, “Well if a nap is out of the question, why don’t we start getting cleaned up for dinner?”
You gave a nod of approval, sitting up to stretch your weary body. Arching your back and extending your arms, the cool air on your exposed skin caused you to shiver slightly, goosebumps forming across your chest and arms at the sensation. Feeling a bit more spry now that you were loosened up, you started to shimmy your way off the seat, but Zayne’s body blocked your path, barring you from moving any further. “Zayne…?”
Fire was coming back to his eyes as he watched you move, answering your inquiry with a kiss to your lips. What started out as a peck soon grew in ferocity, hungry lips moving against yours with a passion you were desperate to match.
“Zayne,” you breathed in between his relentless assault, “I thought you said we were going to get cleaned up? I’m kind of gross right now, and we have a reservation, so we have to get ready to leave soon.”
“We have time,” he cut you off gently, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose, “and you are brilliant, even all mussed up. In fact, I find you exceptionally lovely right now knowing that I was the one that brought you to such a state.”
Your body flushed as he continued his attack, skilled hands trailing the length of your body, caressing you so gingerly you couldn’t help but careen your body towards him, seeking out more. “So beautiful,” he whispered against your neck, “Every part of you is breathtaking, (Name). Let me enjoy you.”
“But it’s your birthday, not mine …” Your voice trailed off as he nipped at your breast, biting down just hard enough to leave a lasting mark. You whimpered as he then kissed the tender flesh, your reaction causing a small, mischievous smile to form on his face.
“I know,” his soft voice murmured against your chest as he continued trailing his lips down your body, “Which is precisely why I know you won’t deny me my favorite gift of all, correct? The best way to make me feel good is to let me make you feel good in return.”
You smiled sheepishly at him, moving your hands to gently cup his face, “Well, I guess I can’t deny the birthday boy on his special day, can I?” You sighed, tracing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek, “I love you.”
He turned his head, leaving a kiss on your palm, “I love you, too.”
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 15 days ago
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Babysitting Has Its Perks 🖤🐰 (Big Bro!Choso x Big Bro!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
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Pairing: Choso x Black!Fem!Reader x Touya “Dabi” Todoroki
Synopsis: You’ve been babysitting kids as a side hustle for a while now to get extra money. You have your regulars, one of them being a doctor’s cute little son Yuji. Though the pay is good, you admit that the main reason you come back to babysit the kid is because of his sexy older brother Choso. On Halloween, when Choso gets caught up in a pinch, he hits you up last minute to babysit Yuji and his bandmate’s little brother. You think this will be an easy night…until you meet Choso’s bandmate Dabi…and you decide to wear a bunny costume…and you realize just how much your secret crush and his hot friend love bunny girls.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Musician!Choso + Dabi; Big Bro/Family AU; Band AU; Nerdy!Reader; Highkey Flirting; Weed + Alcohol Consumption; High + Drunk Sex; Dubcon; R*pe; Threesome; Sex Tape; Facefucking; Cunnilingus; Fingering; Nipple Sucking; Double Deepthroat; Choso + Dabi Got Big Cocks; Degradation/Praise; Dom!Choso + Dabi/sub!Reader; Roleplay; Doggystyle; NO CONDOM; Reader Cums 2x; Facials; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I’ve had this nasty little idea for a hot minute now tee hee!! 🤭 Originally, it was supposed to be just a Choso one shot, but then I thought “Damn….it’d be so hot if Dabi did this too”. So I made a lil crossover one shot for spooky day. I hope y’all enjoy! -Jazz
***********
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“Are you my big bro’s girlfriend?”
This was the first thing little Yuji asked you the first time you showed up to babysit him. You stood on the steps of the white picket-fenced house belonging to Nanami Kento, a busy doctor who sought you out for your babysitting services on your LinkedIn.
It was September then and a mild night that only called for light layers. You were dressed in a cardigan that you paired with a clingy, white baby tee, hip-hugging jeggings, and flats. You wanted to be casual but still mild mannered since you were at a doctor’s home. You had giggled at the boy’s cuteness and replied, “Close. I’m your new babysitter!”
The little pink-haired boy with the rosy cheeks and a gap tooth had grinned happily at you before turning around and yelling, “CHOSO, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS MY NEW BABYSITTER!”
“YUJI!” someone yelled back. You had giggled at Yuji’s antics until you actually saw Choso for the first time and started thinking that maybe being confused for his girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing. As soon as he came to the door in his sweats and polo socks, your smile fell.
The man was fine. He had a face straight out of a dream with his black hair in two spiked ponytails that reminded you so much of Garu from your favorite cartoon ‘Pucca’. He was tall and big, much bigger than you thanks to your cursed short stack height, with broad shoulders and big arms roped in tattoo sleeves that started at his shoulders and cascaded down to his wrists. His thick fingers were coated in metal rings and his nails were painted black.
You thought briefly of what they’d feel like wrapped around your throat or…somewhere else.
The man was also shirtless. His porcelain skin looked soft to the touch, only touched by some tattoos here and there that added to his sexiness. There was one of Yuji’s name on his collarbone; a black heart with a knife jutting out of it on his right neck near his pierced nipple, a silver ball glinting back at you from both of the pebbled, pink peaks; a serpent slithering from his narrow left hip bone down, down, down under the waistband of his sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips, revealing his smooth, toned stomach and V-line.
You must’ve been standing there looking like a damn idiot because Yuji tugged on your hand. “Hellooo?” he sang. “Hey, are you okay?”
You blinked, suddenly back in your body after going up and beyond. Choso was also staring at you, his pierced brow raised in confusion.
“O-Oh, yeah!” you squeaked, wincing at your high-pitched voice. Quickly, you fixed your glasses and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry, m’fine. I-I’m—"
“The new babysitter,” Choso finished, his lips quirking into a small smile. His bottom lip looked so plump and soft, pierced with a silver ring you wanted to tug on. “Yeah, my dad told me about you. Sorry about…” He motioned down his bare upper torso, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
His blush was so attractive that you nearly melted at his feet. He was so endearing and so sexy. “I was changin’ and wanted to stop this rugrat from answerin’ the door when he’s not supposed to.” He tugged on Yuji’s ear, making the boy giggle and swat at his hand. “Y/N, right?”
Realizing he was asking you your name, your brain stopped short-cuiriting for a moment to answer. “Y-Yeah,” you stammered. “And you’re—“
“Choso,” a deep, firm voice said from inside, prompting Choso to roll his pretty, violet eyes. “What did I tell you about answering the door without a shirt on?”
The older brother turned to the even finer blonde who came to the door in a pristinely clean tailored suit. “I only did that one other time ‘cause of those stupid kids prankin’ us,” he scoffs. “Lock the doors next time so Yuji doesn’t answer.”
Nanami went to argue back, but realizing you were standing there awkwardly, he stopped. “Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were here this early.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” you replied as he and Choso let you into their tasteful, cozy home, Choso holding a giggling Yuji under his arm like a puppy. “I know you have a doctors’ dinner to go to, so I figured I’d come early.”
“Not at all,” Nanami sighs, sounding relieved. “I thank you for that. Please come in.” You did so and you were officially introduced to Nanami’s two boys, little Yuji and his big brother Choso before Nanami left for a doctors’ banquet.
Choso was in a rock band as a drummer and songwriter, so he had to leave too for a gig. Yuji had begged and pleaded to go with him to which Choso reminded him that kids aren’t allowed in 21+ spaces. As soon as you discovered that he was in a band, you were way more intrigued to know Yuji’s sexy, 6-foot-something brother.
No wonder he had such big arms! You’d glad let him wrap those guns around you and squeeze your head like a melon, giving it a personal bear hug. However, you kept your deviant thoughts to yourself.
You were professional. You were good. You were…kinda nerdy. You’d like to think your profile pic of you in your glasses was what gave Nanami the final impression to hire you as his personal babysitter. Since he is a busy doctor and Choso is a busier musician, someone had to look after little Yuji.
That night, you and Yuji played games, watched cartoons, and you ordered pizza and French fries for him that you both scarfed down with some orange soda (Yuji’s favorite). When Nanami came home, he paid you handsomely and thanked you again for watching his son.
Since that night a month ago, you’ve been Yuji’s personal babysitter. You watch him most weekdays when everyone is at work or on Saturday nights if no one else is around. Out of all of the kids you currently babysit, he’s your favorite. He is just too stinking cute!
You love babysitting that boy, plus the money is great. As a college girl, you need it. But there is also one more perk to your babysitting service that you refuse to admit. You feel like a pervert even thinking it, but getting an eyeful of Choso every time you walk into his house is more than enough for you to stay.
Your pathetic crush on the drummer has grown since the first night you met him. You can’t help it! Not only is he cute, but he’s also a great brother to Yuji. Seeing him goof around and tickle the tiny boy is enough to make you want to be bred by him and have his babies.
He fills your thoughts at night, prompting you to cum on your fingers and use your trusty rose until you’re sobbing his name into your pillow. You’ve thought so many times about asking him out or attending one of his shows. You want him bad like a habit…
But you won’t dare say anything. This is your job! You could fuck up some good money just because you want to fuck the kid you babysit’s big brother. And you won’t dare do that to yourself or Nanami who trusts you with his child. So you bite back your feelings and admire Choso from afar….until one night.
On a cool Halloween with autumn finally here and the leaves crunching under your feet, you leave a local cafe, your other part time job, and arrive at an empty house. Your mom is working overnight at the hospital as a nurse and has left you to your own devices. You know she’ll be late since it’s Halloween which means endless hours of greasy takeout, reading, spooky movies, and private time with your toy. No Halloween parties for you.
After changing out of your clothes, tying your kinky hair in a quick puff, and taking a hot shower with your cinnamon roll-scented body wash, you wrap yourself in a towel and head to your room to begin your quiet night in when your phone rings.
When you check your phone, you nearly drop it at the caller ID. Choso. He gave you his number along with Nanami for work purposes and to contact him if anything went wrong while you babysat Yuji. You take a deep breath to ease your vigorously pounding heart. ‘Just be cool, bitch. You know him. He’s just the older brother of the kid you babysit.’
After some seconds of mental preparations, you answer and clear your throat. “HHello?” you breathlessly stammer, very clearly affected by Choso’s call.
‘Fuck!’
“Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Choso,” he answers, his voice causing a warm feeling to curl in your core. He has such a sexy voice. “Of course, it’s me. You’ve got my number. Sorry, forget I said that.” He sighs, sounding like he’s fed up with himself the way you are with yourself.
He becomes even more endearing and much more boyfriend material-y right there. “It’s cool,” you giggle, lying back on your bed in your towel. “What’s goin’ on? Is Yuji okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine,” he replies with a chuckle. “He’s been askin’ about you. I swear the kid’s got a crush on you.” You laugh, taking your hair out of your scrunchie and running a hand through your kinks. “Well, he’s a wonderful kid.” And you mean it. Yuji is so goofy and sweet and listens to everything you say, probably because Nanami made him promise to. Either way, he’s a joy to take care of.
“Listen,” Choso begins, sounding uncertain, “I feel really bad for askin’ you this, but…are you doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Your brain suddenly short circuits and your cool bedroom feels stuffy and hot. “Uh….n-no,” you stammer. “Just at home watchin’ Halloween movies and stuff, but that’s it. I just got off from work at the cafe.” You hope that didn’t sound too lame.
“Oh, I forgot you had another job,” Choso tsks, sounding stressed out. “Shit, I’ll probably just have to cancel then.” You sit up now, concerned. “What? What’s goin’ on?”
Choso sighs once more and you feel bad for the guy. He sounds positively frustrated. “My dad is out of town until tomorrow for a doctor’s conference and I was put in charge of watchin’ Yuji, but I forgot I got a gig for a Halloween show at a bar tonight. One of my bandmates is already here and we need to leave in, like, two hours.”
“Oh, okay!” you immediately perk at the chance to see him and make more money. “I can be over there in, like, twenty minutes.”
He lightly laughs at your eagerness. ”Well, before you say yes, there’s a catch: my bandmate Dabi needs someone to watch his kid brother too. He’s the same age as Yuji but very quiet and chill, won’t give you any trouble. If you’re okay with watchin’ two kids at the same time, we’d really appreciate it and pay you double when we get home from the gig.”
You don’t even have to think it over. “I’ve watched five kids at once before. I can handle two. I’ll be over there in twenty.” Choso exhales in relief. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver,” he sighs. “I could fuckin’ kiss you right now. Oh, and Yuji and Dabi’s brother are goin’ trick-or-treating tonight if you wanna go with ‘em. See you over here soon and thank you!”
He hangs up before you can make a fool out of yourself over the ‘kiss you’ line. When you take the phone away from your ear, your face is flaming. Quickly, you hurry to brush your teeth, slather on some deodorant, and drown yourself in your favorite vanilla coco body mist that makes you smell like a baked goodie.
Then you dig into your closet for a costume for the kids. You find your costume from last year—fluffy, white bunny ears and a cotton tail. Basic, but it’ll do. You pair it with a white, body-con bodysuit, a skirt that stops mid-thigh, some stockings, and Mary Jane shoes. After applying some Fenty Gloss and mascara, you finally feel cute enough. Quickly, you grab your coat, phone, and bag before heading to your car.
Nanami’s house is only a ten-minute drive, so you get there by 7:45 PM. After parking, you hurry to the front door and ring the doorbell, mentally preparing yourself for another shirtless Choso (hopefully). But to your shock, it isn’t Choso who answers the door.
This man is fine if not finer than Choso. He is just as tall and slightly lanky but sinewy with muscle that is exposed underneath his loose-fitted tank top. He is all tattoos—roping up and down his arms, across his chest, on his thick neck.
Piercings, too. You can see two silver balls glinting through the exposed armholes of his tank puncturing his pink nipples. His left eyebrow and bottom lip are pierced too, giving him an almost dangerous look. The jet-black hair, ripped jeans, boots, and piercing blue eyes are the icing on the cake. He is the damn poster child for the guy good girls shouldn’t want.
His eyes lazily trail up and down your form as he leans against the doorframe. “So,” he says in a raspy drawl that nearly steals your panties, “you’re the little babysitter Choso’s been talkin’ ‘bout. Y/N, right?”
You struggle to find your voice. You feel so small and bug-like standing before such a man. You feel uncomfortable yet aroused, your panties tightening beneath your skirt. “Y-Yeah,” you stutter, gulping. “Dabi?”
He nods, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. “The guitarist,” he explains. “Sorry to interrupt your night, but we’re in a pinch. Somebody had to watch our kid brothers and apparently, you fit the bill.” His eyes roam up to your ears before trailing down your body, checking out your outfit. “Clearly.” You don’t know if you should’ve worn your skirt or not now.
“Dabi, stop flirtin’ with my babysitter!” Choso yells from inside before showing himself. Just as you hoped, he is shirtless except for a mesh top that shows off his impressive upper torso and tatted skin, jeans, and boots. His spiked hair is down for tonight and his eyes are rimmed in black liner.
It’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you putting you here with two sexy guys despite your awkward ass. “Hey, Y/N,” Choso greets you, flashing those whites at you. “Come in. Yuji is changin’ into his costume and Shoto is right here.”
He practically yanks Dabi out of the way to let you inside. Sitting on the couch is a little boy with multi-colored red and white hair and blue eyes like Dabi dressed in a vampire costume. You nearly swoon from the cuteness. He stares at you mutely as you come into the house.
“Sho, this is Y/N,” Dabi says, nodding at you. “She’s your babysitter for tonight. You say hello?” The little boy mutely looks at you. “Hi,” he says in a soft, bland voice. You wave at him, keeping a bright smile on your face.
“He’s a lil’ shy, but he won’t give you no trouble,” Dabi whispers as Shoto eats some carrot sticks. “Thanks again for doin’ this. I would’ve asked my siblings, but my brother is a big-time athlete and my sis is an overnight nurse.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” you say, offering a kind smile. “I wasn’t doing much tonight anyways.” Dabi’s brows raise curiously and you immediately know that this was the wrong thing to say. “On Halloween? What, no parties or nothin’?”
You slowly shake your head, nervously smiling. “I just got off work earlier when Choso called…a-and I’m not much of a party person.” It’s so lame, but it’s true. You much prefer your books and solitude to sweaty bodies and drunk messes.
“Really?” Dabi asks, sounding humored. “Then that’s some outfit. You wear that for the kids?” His eyes, as blue as Arctic water, intensely stare at you like he’s attempting to turn you into a puddle.
Before you can think of an answer, footsteps thud down the stairs and you all turn to see Yuji in a Spider-Man costume. “Look, Y/N! I’m your friendly neighborhood Spidey!” He jumps down, lands on the bottom step, and hits a squatting pose.
You clap your hands at his superhero landing. “You look amazing, Yuji!” you squeal. “You and Shoto are gonna get sooo much candy!”
Choso walks up to Yuji with a backpack and a leather jacket, checking his water. “We’ve gotta go, squirt,” he says, ruffling Yuji’s pink hair. “Be good for Y/N and don’t eat all your candy unless you wanna be on the shitter, okay?”
Yuji giggles hysterically, slapping Choso’s arm. “You said a bad word, Chosi!” His big brother puts a finger to his lips before turning to you. “Thanks again for doin’ this. A couple of kids will be over soon to go trick-or-treatin’ with them around the block, so just let ‘em in.”
You nod, sending Choso and Dabi off with a wave from the door along with Yuji and Shoto. Five minutes later, four little kids come walking up to the door wearing costumes—a green-haired, freckle-faced ghost, a platinum-blonde werewolf, a brunette little girl dressed like Gwen Stacy, and a black-haired Venom.
“Well,” you coo, smiling at the group, “look what we have here! Are y’all Yuji and Shoto’s friends?” The ghost and Gwen Stacy nod. “Is Shoto here?” the ghost asks. “We’re here to go trick-or-treating with him!”
“Yuji too,” Gwen Stacy adds. “He’s trying to beat Megumi for the most candy bars.” She nudges Venom—Megumi—who rolls his eyes.
“Well, let me go get ‘em and we’ll go together,” you say before hurrying to scoop up your boys. Once everyone has their candy bags together, you lock the door with the key Choso left for you. “Now, let’s get some candy!” You shout, earning some cheers before Yuji and the werewolf—who you learn is Bakugou—race off to the first house.
For the next two ½ hours, you slowly walk behind the group from house to house, knocking on doors for candy, keeping the kids out of the street, and politely declining pervy men who take interest in your costume.
By the time you get home, you’re exhausted and trick-or-treating kids have long since gone home. Shoto’s brother Natsu comes to pick up Shoto to bring him home while you put Yuji to bed after too much candy. For the rest of your time there before Choso and Dabi return, you clean up wrappers, read your book, scrolling through Pinterest, and watch horror movies.
By midnight, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch in your costume, and the end credits to ‘Coraline’ on the TV. When you hear the door click open, you shoot up in surprise, your bunny ears falling off of your head and drool dripping down your chin.
The door cracks open, revealing Dabi smoking a cigarette. “Oops,” he chuckles, grinning at you. “Looks like we woke the bunny.”
Quickly, you wipe the spit off of your face and fix your bunny ears, blushing in embarrassment. You didn’t realize you fell asleep. Choso walks in the house with him, smelling of cigarette smoke and sweat. He gives you a warm smile as he shuts the door. “Hey, you. How were they?”
You smile and stand, smoothing out your skirt. “Like little angels. Yuji is asleep and Shoto was picked up by his brother.” Dabi rolls his eyes at the mention of Natsu as he stubs his cigarette out in an ashtray on the coffee table near your leg. “Yeah, the asshole called and told me to crash here tonight ‘cause he knows I’m fucked up.”
Now that he’s closer, you can see the slightly unfocused look in his blue eyes that can only be accomplished with alcohol. “I’m guessing the gig went well?” The guitarist nods, moving to sit on the couch where you just once were. “Well, we made a bunch of money and signed some titties, so yeah.”
Choso rolls his eyes, chucking a pillow at him. Dabi catches it with one hand. “Shut up. Speakin’ of money…”
He digs into his bag for his phone and clicks a couple buttons. Seconds later, your phone dings with a CashApp alert for $550. “From Dabi and me to you for your services,” he says, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.
“Oh, it was no problem, really!” you say with a reassuring smile, though your body sings with joy over the money.
Choso walks over to the couch and plops down with a tired huff, throwing his boots up on the table with Dabi’s. “So you goin’ home?” he curiously asks. “Y’know, you’re welcome to crash here tonight till tomorrow. The streets are packed tonight and those ears might attract the wrong crowd.”
He gives you a joking smirk, evident that he’s kidding. Dabi snickers as he rises from the couch, passing by you with a glint in his eye that makes you feel as if he isn’t joking. “Like we aren’t?” he asks, his voice causing chills to slither down your spine like a snake.
He walks to the kitchen, his walk lazy and slow like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Choso sits on the couch, arms slung over the back and his thighs pried open as if attempting to convince you to stay. “Thanks, but I couldn’t.” You pause, grabbing your bag. “I don’t wanna overstep or—“
“Please,” he scoffs, cutting you off. “You’ve been watchin’ my kid brother for a month! You’re practically family. Plus, we’ve got beer and some weed if you smoke.” Dabi comes back minutes later with three beer bottles, chilled and appetizing. “We’re celebratin’,” he announces with a crooked smirk as he sits down next to Choso.
“An hour then? Just to wait out the traffic?” Choso suggests as Dabi passes him a bottle. You watch the guitarist slip a baggie of marijuana out of his back pocket along with a pack of papers. “But only if you feel comfortable,” Choso adds as if sensing your apprehension.
The two make it a point to leave a space for you between them. You gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping the strap to your bag. You know if you say yes then a world of trouble could open up for you…but you also don’t want to say no. They haven’t done anything to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy. “Just an hour,” you decide. “I’ll take a beer.”
You slowly place your bag within arm’s reach and sit between them, keeping your thighs clenched tight together and your hands in your lap. You sit rigidly, unsure of what to do. “I didn’t think you drank,” Dabi comments, sounding interested. “You don’t look the type.”
He pops the cap off of the bottle with his teeth before handing it to you. “Ignore him,” Choso says, smirking at his friend. “He teases, but he’s got a thing for the glasses.” You take a sip of the beer to calm your frazzled nerves, the different scents of the two men—cologne, cigarettes, some kind of spicy-smelling soap—mingling into one intoxicating mixture.
“You mean nerdy girls,” you correct him, cracking a smile. “It’s okay, I know I’m a nerd.” Choso laughs, taking a sip of his beer. “Nothin’ wrong with that. I think it’s cool.”
His cheeks glow with a slight blush that somehow turns you on. Dabi snorts from beside you, gently sprinkling crushed weed into one of the papers on the coffee table. “You mean hot. Don’t try to front.” Choso gives him the finger. “Shut the fuck up and roll the damn blunt, asshole.”
Dabi gives him the bird right back but continues to roll his blunt. You watch his fingers expertly work to pinch, roll, squeeze. You would think he’d be good with his hands since he’s a guitarist. They’d probably feel so good inside of you, curling up against that spot that would make you see stars.
“Wanna hit?” he suddenly asks. You blink, realizing that he’s talking to you. He holds the blunt between his forefinger and thumb, smoke billowing from between his lips. You grow hot suddenly, both out of embarrassment for fading out on him because of your dirty mind and uncertainty. “O-Oh, I’ve never…”
Dabi’s brows raise. “You never had weed before? Not even an eddy?”
It doesn’t take a village idiot to figure out that he means an edible. You slowly shake your head, glowing with embarrassment over your squareness. The guitarist breaks into a humored and interested smile like a wolf who realizes he’s got his prey. “Well, shit, aren’t you proper. We’ve gotta fix that.”
“Dabi, don’t corrupt her,” Choso barks. “She’s still our babysitter.”
The guitarist shoots him a bored look. “And she deserves some relaxation after a long, gruelin’ day.” He turns to you, his blue eyes a sea of sin and hot promises. “Don’t you, bunny?” he whispers before puffing on the blunt.
You watch him wrap his lips around the blunt and his cheeks hollow as he inhales. When he pulls away, he puckers his lips and sends an O-shaped smoke ring floating out from between them as well as releasing a steady stream out of his nostrils. He then turns and hands it to you.
With a gulp, you take it and hold it to your wavering lips. You look at Choso for help who is happy to assist with his words: “Inhale slow, hold, and then exhale.”
You do as he says and wrap your lips around the blunt before slowly inhaling. As soon as the smoke invades your lungs, you hold it and then slowly exhale. Though you cough a bit, making the bandmates laugh, the weed already takes effect and makes you feel light, fuzzy, and warm.
“Good girl,” Dabi draws, watching you with a rather predatory gaze. “So she listens, too.” Choso watches you too, creating a very uncomfortable feeling for you in your stomach that you stupidly try to squash with some more beer.
“S-So…uh, tell me about your show tonight,” you stammer, wanting desperately to change the subject and take this situation somewhere less risky.
They respect your decision and tell you about their night playing in a small, sweat-and-alcohol-soaked bar. They also talk about you, asking you about classes, work, your hobbies. You initially feel uncomfortable talking about yourself, but the more you drink and the more you puff on Dabi’s blunt, the less harder it becomes.
You should’ve stopped at one puff. You should’ve stopped after a few sips of beer too. But it’s too late for you now. The weed and the alcohol work their magic on you before you even realize it.
Everything around you feels fuzzy and your skin feels tingly. Choso and Dabi’s voices are thick in your eardrums which feel as if they are stuffed with cotton. You can’t quite comprehend everything they say because they sound so far away and your brain is processing everything at a glacial pace.
You slump against the couch, your eyes fluttering closed and your head feeling heavy. You want to sleep. You want to shut off the movie playing—some 90s slasher flick that Choso put on—, stick your head under the covers, and be plunged into darkness. “Y/N?” Choso asks. “Baby, you still here with us?” He is suddenly closer to you, his hand on your knee. It feels warm and makes your body tingle…especially one part in particular.
Dabi sounds closer too. He’s actually moved closer to you and you just didn’t realize it. When you open your eyes to stare into his piercing, blue ones, he smiles. “Ooooh, the weed’s got her,” he chuckles. “Look at those eyes. She’s gone.” Choso stares at you worriedly, keeping his hand on your knee.
In contrast, Dabi is more daring and lays his hand on your thigh. The surprise contact causes you to giggle, nervously and shyly. The weed has created a thick fog around you where everything feels good and nice. “You’re both so pretty,” you deliriously say. “So sexy.”
Despite your sluggish mind, you know you weren’t supposed to say that. Choso and Dabi share a look, one that you can’t identify. The guitarist smirks at you, his hand trailing farther up your thigh and giving it a firm squeeze.
“Oh, yeah, baby? We think you’re sexy too.” His other hand moves to cup your chin, emitting a small gasp from you. “And pretty…so goddamn pretty.”
His thumb gently pries your bottom lip down, showing him your teeth. He watches intently as the plump flesh pops back into place, his pupils dilating at the sight. He is so close…too close.
You don’t know what to do. Your heart hammers rapidly against your ribcage as he leans in. Or do you lean in? You can’t remember quite well when his lips are on yours.
You squeak in surprise, your shoulders tensing. It’s the only movement you can make with his hands on you. You’re like a terrified rabbit frozen in place as his hand grips your jaw, keeping you still as his mouth envelops yours. His lips are soft yet rough and demanding, practically bruising your lips as he kisses the lipgloss off of them. His piercing is cool against your tongue which swirls against his, only because he demands it. You felt it swipe against your bottom lip at one point, forcing himself inside of your mouth.
You’ve never been kissed in such a way before. Dabi takes and takes and takes yet forces you to take what he gives you. His hands find your ass, trailing up underneath your skirt, drawing a soft moan out of you. “You like that, baby?” he murmurs against your lips. “I knew you wanted this. It was just a matter of time.”
“Mmm-mmm.” This is all you can say or even utter as his tongue dances with yours, giving you a taste of his piercing dug into the pink muscle. His hands squeeze your ass so hard that it hurts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You’re helpless to stop him.
You become even more helpless in the situation when you suddenly feel another set of hands on you caressing your body. “Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, Dabi,” Choso growls. “This is my house, remember?”
Dabi pulls away and gives his friend a cocky smirk just as Choso’s hand presses against your cheek. He turns you to face him and his eyes, hooded from the weed and lust. “C-Choso…”
All you can utter out is a soft exhale of his name before his lips covers yours, swooping you up in a hot, wanton kiss. His kiss is less rough than Dabi’s, but it’s just as sloppy, your tongues hotly swirling with each others. At one point, Choso sucks on your tongue and stares into your eyes as he does it, leaving you a panting, wet mess.
“You taste so good,” he whispers. “I’ve been wantin’ this for so long, baby. You have no idea.”
His hands cup your cheeks, bringing you in for more. You find yourself pressed against him and Dabi both, their bodies like brick walls trapping you between them. “I think she has too. Why else would she wear such a slutty lil’ outfit?” His hands trail up your bodysuit, cupping your tits over the fabric. “I bet you wore this just for us, didn’t you, slutty girl?”
He begins roughly massaging your breasts, causing goose pimples to explode over your skin as Choso kisses your neck. You whimper at Dabi’s degrading words. “I-I’m not a—“
You’re cut off with your own gasp as Dabi pinches each of your nipples through the bodysuit, sending sparks of pain throughout your nerve endings. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “That’s what they all fuckin’ say until they’ve got a cock in front of ‘em…and I bet that’s what you really want, ain’t it, bunny?” He leans in and trails his tongue down your neck, creating a line of his saliva on your skin.
A soft moan escapes you as Choso begins playing with your left ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Dabi follows suit and plays with your right until both of them are teasing your ears with kisses, licks, nibbles, and moans that have you squirming between them.
Your body feels like it’s overheating and your pussy…you’ve never been so wet before. Is it from the weed? The alcohol? Them?
Choso trails a hand between your thighs, prying them apart to get a feel of your panties. “You look so cute in this costume, baby…so fuckin’ cute.” His index and middle fingers press into your panties, making your toes curl. “Choso, please,” you whine.
He pulls away from your ear, staring deeply into your eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks. “What do you need? You want us to stop?”
You blink at him, overwhelmed and hornier than you’ve ever been in your life. “I….I….” You don’t know what you want or need. You want to leave, but you also don’t. It feels wrong, but also so right.
Dabi disagrees, yanking the straps to your bodysuit down. You yelp as your tits fall out and are exposed to the two musicians who ogle at them. “Her body ain’t sayin’ no,” he chuckles. “Check out these tits. Look at how hard these nipples are.” He begins to slurp your nipples, his tongue and teeth running over the sensitive peaks.
You gasp, biting your lip as Choso begins stroking you through your panties that continue to secrete moisture. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You need attention, don’t you?”
Dabi bites your nipple, sending shocks of pain throughout your body. “Ah!” you cry out. “W-Wait! Yuji might hear us!” Choso chuckles, still stroking, “He won’t. That kid can sleep through a murder.” Dabi tears himself away from you, glaring. “Now shut the fuck up and open your legs for us.”
With your nerves frazzled, you slowly open your legs…with some help. Choso and Dabi’s big hands pry you open to reveal your soaked panties underneath your skirt. “Just as I thought,” the guitarist tuts. “Look at how wet she is for us, bro. She barely knows us and yet, here she is with a soaked fuckin’ pussy.”
He pries your panties to the side, revealing your puffy, pretty, wet cunt to them both. You gasp as the cold air hits your sensitive skin. “Wow, baby,” Choso says in awe, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re so, so wet for us. Good enough to taste.” He sucks on his index and middle fingers before proceeding to gently rub your clit.
Two other fingers do the same, rubbing up and down your slit. “Good enough to eat,” Dabi adds. “You’d love that wouldn’t you, bunny? You want the big, bad wolves to eat you right up, don’t you?” He sinks his fingers into your pussy, just stopping at his fingertips.
You moan, gripping the duo’s big, beefy arms for dear life as the two play with your gushing pussy. “Fuck!” you gasp. What else can you say?
Dabi tsks disappointedly, teasing you further by curling his fingers up. “That ain’t an answer, baby girl.” Combined with his fingers shallowly fucking you and Choso rubbing your clit, you can’t process anything but how good you feel. “Yes! Yes, please!” You whine, your toes curling in your Mary Jane’s.
Like a killer who has caught his next victim, Dabi grins. He slides his digits out of you, sucks your wetness off of them, and slinks off of the couch to kneel in front of you. “Keep these fuckin’ thighs open,” he demands, eyes glaring into Choso’s. “I don’t want her doin’ shit while I’ve got my tongue in her.”
Choso grips your left leg and pins it open while Dabi takes the right until you’re completely open and exposed to Dabi’s pierced tongue. “Look over here, baby. Look at what you’ve done to me.”
Choso turns your face to meet him where he is fumbling to unzip his pants with his other hand. You watch him peel down his briefs to reveal his happy trail and a very hard, very pretty, very much throbbing and dripping cock.
Dabi nips at your thigh, scowling at you. “Well, don’t just leave him like that,” he scolds. “Stroke that dick. Take some fuckin’ accountability.”
With a shaky hand, you wrap your hand around Choso’s cock and begin to stroke it while Dabi begins to sloppily eat your pussy.
You and Choso moan at the same time, both of you overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. Dabi’s tongue is skilled, teasing your folds as he slides it along your slit and up to your clit. You stroke Choso’s cock in time with his bandmate’s tongue strokes, trying to focus on two things at the same time.
“Shit,” Choso groans. “You’re so good at this, baby girl, fuck…”
His cute face is etched with pleasure, his eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed as he stares at you pumping his cock. Dabi stares too, still slurping away at your cunt. When the silver ball in his tongue hits your clit, you jump and let out a squeak. “You like that tongue piercing, huh?” he cackles. “Such a little slut. You can’t get enough of this.”
As he dives back down and sucks on your clit, he gently begins to finger you, aiming upward as he strokes your walls. You toss your head back at the euphoric feeling, your brain growing fuzzy. “Watch Dabi eat that pussy, baby,” Choso coos. “But don’t get too distracted.”
You don’t know if you can help that. The way Dabi is sloppily eating you out and finger-fucking you is too much for you to not focus on.
You finally cannot take anymore and let every loud, bottled sound inside of you escape as Choso plays with your breasts and Dabi sucks on your clit. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out. “Fuck, fuck yes!”
The guitarist flinches, scowling up at you. “Plug up that hole, would ya?” He asks Choso, annoyed. He then goes back to fingering you, a slight, wet sound leaving your pussy as he coats his digit in your juices.
You suddenly feel a hand on your head and Choso’s deep, soft eyes are staring into yours. “Open wide, bunny. I’ve gotta keep you quiet.” He gently pushes you down towards his hard dick standing at attention for you. “You wouldn’t want Yuji to come down and find you like this, right?”
Instinctively, you open your mouth and cover your teeth with your pillowy-soft lips to avoid scraping Choso as his cock sinks into your mouth. “No ‘cause you’re a good girl,” he pants. “You’re my good, sweet fuckin’ girl. Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good!”
He proceeds to fuck up into your mouth, using it as just a fleshlight. A toy. And you allow it. Drool drips from your mouth and down his balls as he continues to assault your mouth, soon sinking deeper and deeper into your throat. You gag a few times and nearly feel triggered to throw up, but you just remember to breathe through your nose. Breathe.
Soon, it becomes easier for you to take Choso’s hard cock down your throat. Dabi watches, still fingering you. “Ooooh, she’s good at that,” he chuckles. “Look at her workin’ that mouth.” He hums in arousal to himself, palming himself between your legs, unbeknown to you. “Fuckin’ little cockslut is gettin’ me rock hard.”
Choso chuckles, his laugh breathless as he fucks your mouth like the hole that it is. His hole. Dabi presses a kiss to your clit, emitting a whimper from you. “Does our little bunny need two big carrots tonight?” he smirkingly asks. Choso pulls his cock, wet with your spit, out of your mouth, allowing you to take a proper breath.
“Oh, I think you do,” Dabi answers for you, “and you’re gonna fuckin’ take ‘em.”
He suddenly stands up between your legs, looking down at you as if you’re nothing more than a cock sleeve for his own use. “Get on your knees and look up at us,” he demands. You look at Choso for help, but he looks too lustful and sex-drunk to even begin to think about rescuing you.
On wobbly legs, you get off of the couch and sit on the floor on your knees. You stare up at Choso and Dabi, suddenly staring at two different cocks. Different in length. Different in girth. But still hard and throbbing. In addition, Dabi’s cock is pierced just at the underside of the head which drips in pre-cum for you.
You bite your lip as you stare up at them, kneeling in just your skirt, stockings, and shoes with your tits out, your pussy wet, and your lips coated in spit. The duo look as if they have fallen in love with you. Dabi cocks his head to the side as he slides something out of his back pocket. “Now that’s a sight.”
You close your eyes, humiliated and embarrassed by this moment, but also by how aroused you are. Your pussy has never been wetter than now sitting in front of these two men that you barely know, letting them see you naked and use you like a—
Click!
You open your eyes as a flash goes off and realize in horror that Dabi has his cell phone out. And he’s taking photos of you. “N-No!” you gasp, covering your breasts. “Don’t!”
Click!
Dabi rolls his eyes at you, still keeping the camera on. “Relaaaax. Nobody is seein’ this beauty but me and your little boyfriend.” He nudges Choso who is busy stroking himself at the sight of you, looking like he wants to eat you the fuck up.
He and Dabi get closer to your face, holding their cocks for you. “Nuzzle ‘em,” Dabi orders. “Put those cute little lips on us.”
Feeling like you have no choice, you do as ordered and nuzzle, kiss, and lick up their cocks. You bump your nose against their bulbous heads, run your lips down their shafts, and gently suck on their balls. The two groan in encouragement at your ministrations, hypnotized.
“You look so cute like this, baby,” Choso moans. “I need to see my cock in your mouth.”
He grabs your hair and, without warning, sinks into your mouth to fuck it dumb. “Fuck!” He groans. “You’re so good at suckin’ my cock, baby.” You have no choice but to breathe and let him do as he wants, your eyes watering from the ache in your jaw and your that button in your throat being triggered.
Dabi watches you, his phone in your face and the blinding, white light of his camera in your eyes. “C’mooon, you can fuck her mouth harder than that, can’tcha?”
Choso glares into the lens as he grips your hair harder. “Fuck you,” he growls but ends up fucking your mouth a little rougher anyway. You gag and sloppily gurgle around his dick as he pounds your throat like it’s your pussy, gripping your hair for leverage.
Dabi grins at his bandmate, enjoying the scene before him. “No thanks,” he cackles. “You ain’t my type, but this little doll is.” He taps his cock against your cheek to get your attention. “Look into the camera, bunny. You love bein’ our little toy, don’t you?”
You squint into the blinding light as Choso pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaving a strand of saliva in his wake. “Slutty little thing,” Dabi whistles. “Now it’s my turn. Get it on camera, will ya?” He passes Choso his phone before roughly yanking you towards his cock by your hair.
With a gasp, your mouth falls onto his cock. He is just as rough, aggressive, and desperate as Choso as he fucks your throat, pulling you back and forth like he owns your entire head.
“Deeper,” he growls. “C’mon, slut, take me deeper.” He sinks himself in deeper, nearly touching the back of your throat. Unable to avoid possibly throwing up, you desperately push at his hips to make him stop.
With a sigh, he pulls himself out of you, allowing you to take a breath. You sputter and gulp down air, unable to get it in your lungs fast enough. Figuring you’ve had enough time, the guitarist grabs you again for more throat-fucking.
“D-Dabi, wait!” you cough. “I-I can’t breathe!” But he doesn’t listen to you, instead plunging his cock in balls deep until the heavy things hit your chin. “Bunnies don’t talk, stupid girl. C’mon, you’re embarrassin’ me on video.”
He turns and smirks into the light as Choso records him plowing your mouth, his cock moving in and out of your throat at a fast, rough pace that nearly knocks your brain out of your skull. “You’re doin’ so well, baby,” Choso coos, gently tapping his cock against your soft cheek. “Such a big girl takin’ those big dicks.” He taps it once against your nose too, chuckling to himself.
Dabi wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes, tossing some rough into the mixing pot of sugar that Choso gives you. “Look up at me. Show me your eyes.”
You do so, staring deep into those blue orbs as his cock strokes the walls of your throat. “That’s it, my little bunny. That’s what I like.”
“Just remember to share her, asshole,” Choso hisses. “She likes my dick more anyway.”
Dabi lazily stares at him, squinting at the camera flash. “Oh, really? Then maybe she’ll be able to choose once we’re inside her.” He pulls his cock out of your mouth, using it to slap your cheek. “Turn the fuck over,” he growls.
Nervously swallowing your spit and his pre, you slowly turn around on wobbly limbs only to be hiked into position by an impatient Dabi: all fours. You feel his big hands on your hips, drawing you toward him. When you feel his cock slide against your pussy, you feel immense fear make your stomach turn.
Then he starts to push the head in. “Dabi, wait,” you gasp. “Condom! You need a condom!”
Smack!
His hand comes down to smack you hard on the ass. You flinch at the stinging pain. “I don’t need that shit,” he scoffs. “Now shut up and take this dick, little bunny.”
And then in he goes, sliding his full length into your pussy one inch at a time. Your mouth falls open as you feel him stretching you out, making his place in your cunt one stroke after the other.
He groans, his hips slamming into your ass a little harder and a little faster until he is fucking you onto his cock like you’re his toy, pulling and pushing you by your hips. “Much better than money, right?” he cackles. He leans down to bite your ear, tugging on your earlobe. “Bet it feels good. Bet it’s everything you need, right, bunny?”
You can’t form even one coherent word. Moans and whimpers are all you can manage as his cock drills into your pussy, emitting wet sounds like a moist macaroni and cheese casserole from his dick repeatedly pounding your cunt. Your head feels like mush, your tits jiggle, and you can’t get a grip on yourself.
“Too much!” you sob. “P-Please, Dabi! Slow down!”
He doesn’t, instead gripping whatever he can of yours—your jiggling tits, your stomach, your ass. “Shut her up, Choso,” he irritably grunts. “She’s killin’ my fuckin’ buzz.”
Choso moves in front of you, pushing his erect cock against your plush lips. “Shhh, baby,” he whispers. “Yuji is sleepin’. Just suck on my cock, okay, good girl?”
Before you can answer, his dick is pushing inside of your mouth. With a moan, he begins to fuck the side of your mouth, his head rubbing against the soft, wet wall.
The two begin to fuck you at both ends, using your body for their pleasure. Dabi grips your skirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his aggressively tight hold. “Fuck!” He grunts. “She feels so fuckin’ good! Gonna shoot a load in her soon at this rate.”
Your eyes widen at the terrifying mention of a creampie. Sure, you’ve always had a kink for that and maybe eventually, you’ll want to experience it, but not now. You can’t get pregnant! Luckily, Choso becomes your savior. “Switch with me then. I need my turn.”
Dabi chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. Moaning in unison, the duo pull their cocks out of you before switching spots. Dabi takes your front while Choso takes the back, his hands massaging your ass. He presses soft kisses on your back as he rubs his cock against your soft asscheeks, almost rutting against them.
You look back at him, unintentionally making him harder as you stare at him over your shoulder. “Choso—“
You can’t finish the rest of your sentence because the drummer is already sliding his cock deep inside of you, sinking himself down to the hilt. He begins to fuck you almost immediately, grabbing your ass for leverage. You moan and whine at the feeling, unable to think about anything but how good his cock feels.
Choso uses one hand to fondle your tits while the other stays on your ass, massaging both sensitive zones as his cock massages your walls. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he moans. “Wanted to fuck this pussy for so fuckin’ long. All you do is tease me.” He grips your body to his like it’s his prized position, his hips hammering against your ass again and again and again.
Every time he slams into you, you’re propelled deeper and deeper into a hole of molten pleasure that you can’t crawl out of…and you’re not sure if you want to.
“Choso!” You whine. “Oh, my God, Choso, fuck!” His stroke game draws the loudest, most pathetic sounds out of you, only muffled by Dabi’s cock.
He laughs as he slides into your mouth as you moan around it. “Damn, you’ve got some pipes, girl,” he chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you suck on it. “Might wanna look into bein’ a singer. We might have an opening for ya if you can make us nut.”
He takes his cock out once and taps it against your tongue before sliding back in, proceeding to fuck your throat. Choso laughingly moans, still massaging your insides with his cock. “That won’t be a problem…ssshhhit, her pussy is so tight!” He lets out a shuddery breath as he slows himself down, edging himself inside of you. You can feel him beginning to swell, his cock growing thicker.
Dabi nods at him encouragingly, gripping your hair and forcing you to throat his dick. “Then beat that pussy up, man. Don’t fuckin’ slack—give her what she needs.”
And together, they do just that. They fuck and use your holes until you’re a gagging, whimpering mess, dripping from both ends. Your fake ears fall off and your skirt is ripped so tightly in Choso’s fists that you hear it rip. They fuck you as hard and as fast as they want to, taking you on a bumpy ride.
You feel your core begin to tighten into a knot and your clit swell the more Dabi teases it with his fingers. Your second orgasm is approaching quickly.
Choso must feel it because he focuses heavily on that spot inside of you, fucking it until you’re a puddle. “You gonna cum, bunny?” he whispers. “You gonna cum all over this cock?”
Your mind is blank, the pleasure too numbing. You can feel the urge to cum building, building, building. Choso pinches your nipples while Dabi swirls his fingers around your clit, the sensations getting you closer. “Mmmm!” You scream around Dabi’s cock. “Mmmm, pweeease!”
Dabi nods, pleased with your begging. He grips your hair tighter, forcing you to take his cock deeper. “Go ahead and cum with us, slut. We fuckin’ need it.” Choso nods encouragingly, still pounding your pussy with the intention of making you both cum your brains out. “Do it,” he begs. “Cum on that dick. Give it to me, bunny, please! Cum right fuckin’ now!”
His begging and pleading triggers something inside of you that immediately flips your O switch on. “Ohhh, fuuuuck!” you moan as you finally cum all over Choso’s cock. He keeps fucking you through each intense wave of your orgasm, extending it until you’re writhing and thrashing between him and Dabi.
“Oh, God,” Choso groans as your pussy clenches around him. “I’m ‘bout to cum too.” Dabi shakes his head, pumping his cock in your face. “Unless you want a baby, I suggest you follow my lead.”
Despite the feeling of disappointment as your heavenly cunt leaves him, Choso pulls out and takes his place next to Dabi. The two stand over you—little, pathetic, cum-drunk you—and jerk themselves off in your face.
“Not done yet,” Dabi hisses, damn near feral. “Look up at us, bunny. Show us that pretty face.”
Slowly, you do as he orders and stare at their cocks as they furiously chase their orgasms with their hands. Dabi cums first with a raspy groan that sends warm shivers throughout your body. His creamy, hot cum shoots all over your face and tongue that you slip out of your mouth to catch some droplets.
Choso comes next, his face flush red and looking oh-so pretty as his orgasm peaks. Finally, with a moan, he cums too. “Ohhh, fuck,” he groans as he sprays his load all over your tits. Some of the droplets also splash onto your tongue and on your stomach, coating your skin in the creamy substance.
Their muscles tense and their faces screw in pleasure until finally, the cloud of pleasure fades and they relax. Choso tilts his head back, eyes shut and looking winded. Meanwhile, Dabi takes his phone from the floor and once again puts the camera on you. You squint into the white light, wanting to cover yourself.
“That’s a pretty sight,” he sighs, getting up close and personal. “Now was that good, bunny? Did ya have fun?” He takes his thumb and wipes some cum away from your lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly reply.
The guitarist smirks, pleased with your answer. “Mmm, good girl. You look so nice with my cum all over you.” He makes sure to get all of you—your tits, your stomach, your pretty face all covered in his and Choso’s nut—on his phone. You have no choice but to sit in it…and your embarrassment.
You can’t believe you just got fucked by two men you barely know after babysitting their baby brothers…one of which is sound asleep upstairs.
Dabi finally turns off his phone, chuckling to himself. You don’t ask why. After fetching some tissues, Choso bends down on the floor to wrap his arms around you, using the tissues to dab the cum off of your body. “You did so well, baby,” he sighs. “You were so, so fuckin’ good.”
His big, strong, inked arms wrap around your middle as he drags you into his lap. He then picks you up and walks you over to the couch where he cuddles you, naked and satisfied. He gently strokes your back and kisses your forehead, almost making you forget all about your humiliation….almost.
And then you hear a knock. It is loud and it is abrupt. You gasp, jumping in fear. Someone’s at the door. Could it be Nanami? Is he home early?
Dabi, putting his undies and jeans back on, zips up his fly before sauntering over to the door. He peeks through the peephole and smirks at you. “Relax, girl,” he cackles. “It ain’t no trick-or-treaters.”
Despite the fact that you and Choso are still very naked, Dabi opens the door to reveal two more hot, tatted band members—one with long, wavy white hair and tired gray eyes and the other with spiked pink hair and vermillion eyes.
“Took you long enough,” Dabi scoffs, opening the door further. “Get your asses in here.”
The two strangers walk in, laughing to themselves. When their eyes lock with yours, they each smirk to themselves, menacingly. “Damn,” the pink-haired hottie laughs lightly. “Guess we missed the party.”
“Nah, you guys came just in time,” Dabi chuckles, tossing an arm around his white-haired friend. “We just finished up with her.”
The white-haired man tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over your body. “Tiny little thing. You two horn bags corrupt her already?”
Choso squeezes you to him, smiling at his friends. “Baby, this is Tomura and Sukuna, our bassist and one of our other guitarists.”
The two bandmates’ smirks grow wider, causing a twirl of fear and anxiety to appear in your gut.
Choso presses lips to your ear. You can tell he’s smiling. “They’ve got a thing for bunnies too,” he whispers.
THE END.
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1q39com · 9 months ago
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Who wants to save money, share with others and Earn an extra income?
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namwool · 6 months ago
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fave shen jiu fics? i need to read more of him!
I'm incredibly sorry for answering so late!
I made a list with everything I've read and liked so far, hope this helps and can somehow make it up for my lateness! I tried to link the fics but tumblr is being a little bitch, so I had to remove them.
Also, this list includes smut as well, make sure to read the tags!
Liujiu (This is my fave couple, I dream of them like 24/7)
Ongoing
Twin Lotus by s_unfl0wer
The Orchid Grows Where Others Cannot by Iwannabe_lieve
The Wrath Of The War God by NazakiSama166
Devotion by NazakiSama166
Through The Well by NazakiSama166
To You On The Other Side by blackflowertea
Completed
'til death do us part by blackflowertea
The Sword And His Shield by blackflowertea
reluctant romance by backspacedintooblivion (Evil_and_I_know_it) 
Bamboozled Into Parenthood by Renyo 
Surrender by xpityx (Restricted)
Would you dual cultivate with me? by FakeAlice
talking is hard by technorat
Curse of the Black Moon Flower by cannon_fodder
skyfire circle by mercurials
night time, hide my eyes by technorat
One Night of Sleep by Otno (restricted)
Flower of Fondness by mohuji (togaki) (restricted)
Tainting You by scumshizun
A Necessary Darkness by xpityx (restricted)
push furniture in front of the door by formerlyknives (restricted)
Je te laisserai des mots by xnemone (restricted)
Utterance by EasternWarrior
spar with me by revesdelimonade
best laid plans by revesdelimonade 
My annoying demon by FakeAlice
forever and ever and ever and ever by pennydaniels
Mamazun by shorimochi
An unexpected visitor by Parmse
Traces by shypersomniac
Give Me Your Best Scripts by Dandesamm
Guide Dog by FakeAlice
a trip around the ninth sun by ectocosme (restricted)
hustling for the good life by Chesra
Jingwei by xnemone (restricted)
Indebted by UmbrellaMartialGod
it's that talk again by revesdelimonade
you and i by backspacedintooblivion (Evil_and_I_know_it)
it’s a crime you’re not around most of the time by backspacedintooblivion (Evil_and_I_know_it)
Loving You is Easy by Anonymous
uh... you fight good. by saccharinings
behind the scenes and be vulnerable by Anzie (anzie)
The Downfall of Cang Qiong by Anonymous
Sweet Nectar by Anonymous
altar by fencesit
your long tongue runs along my heart by ectocosme (restricted)
The War God's Redo by GT_GoldenTrashbag
Convenience by Phnx
A Poor Choice Of Words by Pancakes_With_No_Clean_Fryingpans
Comfort by xpityx (restricted)
LiuJiu Week 2022 , Promise , Rewritten by xpityx ( all 3 restricted)
like real people do by revesdelimonade
This Omega Just Want His Off Days by shorimochi
In This World by Ehann
tag team carry romance by Chesra
an open/shut case by Chesra 
Alcohol Free by Dandesamm
make sure i die first by pennydaniels
we should stick together by pennydaniels
you're my best friend, i'll love you forever by pennydaniels
Autumn Leaves by dead_leaves_fall_like_tears
Mirror of Truth by dead_leaves_fall_like_tears
Affection curse by FakeAlice
BREAKING NEWS by mohuji (togaki) (restricted)
be good to me by pennydaniels
As the West Wind Blows by demoniqt (restricted)
to tell you the truth by leviiio
Look Into The Mirror And What Did You See? by Invidia_Envy
you got a way (of making me feel insane) by backspacedintooblivion (Evil_and_I_know_it)
Gold Amidst Snow by ClearAutumnVibes
Evil Blankets and Senseless Shidis (These Maddening Delights Have Surprising Ends) by I_dont_know_anything_im_sorry
Marital Bliss by Aledono
Who had you was? I yes you would by technorat
Opposite by Ehann
Two Peak Lords Walk Into A Flower Field (you won't believe what happened next!) by Space_Samurai
Secondary When Compared To You by I_dont_know_anything_im_sorry
Old Ghosts Haunt These Hallowed Grounds by xnemone 
Mu Qingfang / Shen Jiu (this one is kinky. You've been warned.)
Just what the doctor ordered by Space_Samurai
In the carriage by Sakuja
Poisonous Love or Mu Qingfang is a psycho bastard by Sakuja
Doctor's orders by Anonymous
Too Much But Not Enough by Anonymous
healer's prescription by ectocosme (restricted)
etch me a third eye to see deeper by ectocosme
make it hurt by technorat
Shen Yuan / Shen Jiu (This one is my guilty pleasure.)
Almost Perfect by kiseki_pop 
Taboo by Anonymous
Captive by Anonymous
five times shizunyuan couldn't get off by YandereDay
I (26m) drank my best friend’s (28f) breast milk by Kasasagi (restricted)
the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated by zigur_zig_ah
Romancing the Villain for Dummies by Chesra
You're the pink in my cheeks (And I'm scared 'cause that means I'm a little bit soft) by BambooSpirit (restricted)
One Thing or Another by Ilthit
the places where others gave you scars by Blue_tea06, Chesra, SteamingOwl
I Don't Take Insults Lightly by D20Owlbear (restricted)
Perfectionist Complex by YandereDay
Dear You by YandereDay
A coat of copper and a bamboo fan by BambooSpirit (restricted)
Press A to romance the Scum Villain by BambooSpirit (restricted)
Tianlang-jun / Shen Jiu (The potential of this couple is honestly amazing.)
Tie Me Down by Anonymous
Seducing the Villain's Father by demoniqt (restricted)
Remarried Empress by demoniqt (restricted)
True Treasure by MissMegh
Spread your Wings by Araceil (restricted)
Gongyi Xiao / Shen Jiu (Cute. That's all I have to say about them.)
Home is With You by Anonymous
Plum Blossom by hasa3810 
Honey Sweet by jeejaschocolate
Because I admire you Master Shen by IrisEvergreen
The Love Letter by shorimochi
Qiu Jianluo / Shen Jiu (pls don't judge me for this one, I am desperate for more Shen Jiu content.)
Mend, Scar by Anonymous
a whiff of coffee and healing, by im_sevenn
Dirty Laundry by im_sevenn
My Life in Your Hands by shorimochi
Target Captured by Anonymous
An unlikely savior by Midnight_illusi0n (not really Qiujiu, but I kinda hope??)
Xiu Ya / Shen Jiu (listen... desperate times calls for desperate measures, ok?)
I've only got Xiao Jiu for one day and if something happened to him I would kill everyone. Period by ectocosme
Through The Time by Invidia_Envy
Bingjiu (.... I have no excuse for this one. I am terribly ashamed.)
What it Means to Fall by xnemone  (restricted)
youtiao by revesdelimonade
The Touch Of Your Hands, The Taste Of Your Lips by mercury_retrograde
Finally by Shireyaki
Spring Flowers by xpityx (restricted)
an inch of longing, an inch of ash by xpityx (restricted)
bigger, not better by backspacedintooblivion (Evil_and_I_know_it)
Matrimony by spearpoint
The Court of the Night King by 1V1
to break your teeth on love by dearly_anonymous (restricted)
Tale as Old as Time by mrblank8l, shorimochi
When the puppy met a little snake by FakeAlice
Satisfaction Guaranteed, I'm Your Sunshine by YandereDay
Where He Cannot Follow by bloodsongs
No thank you, next! by singlewheelrolling
The Adventure of Bingpup and his Tsundere Shizun by CrazyNekoChan
It's Not Much, Goodness Knows by Anonymous
You are not alone, not anymore by Elis98
Through the Looking Glass by FarawayDreamer (restricted)
and perhaps the greatest grief is being left in a universe where you are gone by sweetlolixo
the hands of fate (my achilles' heel) by Chesra
Soft Skills by beelzebaozi
Smug Kitten's Splurge-Spending System by Anonymous
I didn't put it on the list because it's the most popular and easier to find through the tags, but Yinhua is also one of my faves.
I think I covered everything?
If anyone has anymore suggestions for some other fics I can read, please let me know!!
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pretzel-box · 3 months ago
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-2- THE WALLS WHICH WILL EAT US
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word count: 5,2k
tags: GN!reader, graphic mentions of panic attacks, getting attacked
summary: You get shipped to the Hadal Blackside and start your new mission to get the crystal and Z-13, Sebastian Solace. But it seems like the visitors of the Blackside are getting you first.
The sharp scent of various chemicals invaded your senses the moment you arrived at the dock, where Urbanshade housed their high-tech submarines for underwater expeditions—expeditions much like the one you were about to embark on. The dock itself was a massive, bustling hub, with staff members moving swiftly through the vast hall, each absorbed in their own tasks. Cargo was being transported, machines were being meticulously maintained, and the air was filled with the constant hum of activity, all contributing to the strange, industrial rhythm of the place.
The dock was located within a closed hall, nestled just below water level in one of Urbanshade’s many sprawling facilities. From where you stood, you could see the vast array of technology they had developed, each piece funded by the considerable wealth of people like your father. It was impossible not to feel a sense of awe at the sheer scale of their operations. Urbanshade’s business was far more than you had imagined; mining oil from the ocean depths seemed like it was just a side hustle for them, a mere footnote in their grander, more mysterious endeavors.
As you took in your surroundings, the reality of Urbanshade’s reach began to sink in. The size of the submarines alone was staggering, each one a marvel of engineering, designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea. Workers in identical uniforms moved like clockwork, each performing their duties with practiced efficiency. The atmosphere was one of cold, calculated precision, a far cry from the chaotic hustle you had expected.
“Hey, over here.” A voice cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A tall man, dressed in the same standard-issue uniform as the others, stood before you. His demeanor was strict, his expression unreadable. He was clearly used to the environment, his posture rigid and commanding. This man was your guide, assigned to escort you through the facility, ensuring you didn’t stray from the carefully laid path Urbanshade had set for you.
“Follow me,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned on his heel and began to walk, expecting you to follow without hesitation.
You fell into step behind him, your mind racing as you tried to absorb everything at once. The guide led you through a series of corridors, each more sterile and unwelcoming than the last. The walls were lined with thick metal plating, a stark reminder of the underwater pressures that lurked just beyond. Occasionally, you caught glimpses of other workers, their faces blank as they passed by, absorbed in their own duties.
As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Urbanshade was preparing you for. The deep levels of the ocean were a place of mystery, danger, and unimaginable pressure, both physically and mentally. And yet, here you were, about to be plunged into its depths with little more than a vague idea of what awaited you.
The guide finally stopped in front of a heavy, reinforced door. He glanced at you, his expression softening ever so slightly, before pressing a button on the wall. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the medical station beyond.
"Standard procedure," the guide said, his voice less harsh now, as if trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "They just need to make sure you’re fit for the journey ahead. Nothing to worry about."
You nodded, stepping through the doorway into the sterile, clinical environment of the medical station. The room was starkly lit, with white walls and gleaming medical equipment arranged neatly along the perimeter. A team of doctors and nurses, all dressed in pristine white uniforms, waited for you inside. Their faces were a mix of professionalism and mild curiosity, as though you were just another specimen to be examined before being sent on your way.
As the door closed behind you, sealing you in the room, the reality of your situation began to weigh heavily on you. You had to pass this final checkpoint, a thorough examination to ensure you were physically prepared for the journey ahead before getting the one-way ticket to hell.
The doctors gestured for you to sit on a cold metal chair in the center of the room. You did so, feeling the coolness seep through your clothes as they began their work, checking your vital signs, drawing blood, and performing a series of tests designed to assess your fitness for the perilous journey.
All the while, your mind kept drifting back to the massive submarines and the dark, unknown depths they were built to explore. You couldn’t shake the feeling that once you boarded one of those vessels, there would be no turning back. The only way out was through, and whatever lay ahead in the deep ocean was as vast and unknowable as the abyss itself.
As the medical team finished their assessment, the door slid open again, and your guide reappeared. His expression was as stern as before, but there was a slight nod of approval as he looked at you.
“You’re cleared,” he said simply, stepping aside to let you exit the room. “Now, let’s get you suited up. It’s time.”
With a deep breath, you followed him out of the medical station.
After the medical examination, the guide led you back through the labyrinth of hallways, deeper into the heart of the facility. Your mind raced as you walked, the sterile environment doing little to calm your nerves. You were heading toward something monumental, something that would change the course of your life, but the details were still murky, shrouded in the secrecy of Urbanshade’s operations.
Finally, you arrived at another reinforced door, larger and more imposing than the last. The guide swiped a keycard through a panel, and the door slid open with a deep, resonant hiss. Inside, a small team of technicians was bustling around a large metal chamber—your submarine. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. It looks like a giant dark prison that would suffocate you slowly once you step inside.
“Suit up,” the guide instructed, gesturing toward a nearby rack where a diving suit hung waiting for you.
You approached the suit, eyeing it with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. It was sleek, made from a dark, heavy material that felt both flexible and incredibly durable. The suit was designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea and most of the things that were swimming in the water such as tiny bacteria, and as you ran your fingers over it, you could feel the quality of the suit.
With some help from the technicians, you began the process of donning the suit. They worked with swift efficiency, guiding your arms and legs into the suit’s sleeves, adjusting the fit, and sealing it tight around your body. The suit clung to you like a second skin, the material warming slightly as it activated, responding to your body heat.
Next came the helmet, a heavy, reinforced piece with a full visor that provided a wide field of vision. The technicians lowered it carefully onto your head, locking it into place with a series of metallic clicks. The moment the helmet sealed, your world became slightly muffled, the sounds of the facility fading into a low hum as the suit’s internal systems took over. A heads-up display flickered to life on the visor, showing a stream of data—your vitals, oxygen levels and a myriad of other readings you couldn’t yet decipher.
The last piece of your equipment was a utility belt, which the technicians fastened securely around your waist. The belt was lined with pouches and compartments, each designed to hold the tools you’d need for the mission. You noticed a small pouch containing a syringe—likely the medication to knock out Sebastian. It had the same color as the syringe in Mr.Wiltshires office. Another compartment held the USB stick, its purpose still lingering in your mind and clearly important given its inclusion in your gear. There were other items as well—what looked like a flashlight and a single medkit.
As the final adjustments were made, the guide stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever. “This suit will keep you alive down there,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “But it’s not invincible. Be smart, and don’t push your luck.”
You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The weight of the suit was beginning to settle in, both physically and mentally. You were about to be sealed inside a metal capsule and sent into the darkest reaches of the ocean, a place where few had ventured and even fewer had returned from. But there was no turning back now.
The guide led you toward the submarine’s entry hatch, which stood open like a gaping maw, waiting to swallow you whole. The technicians handed you a pair of thick gloves and a small pack containing a few rations and basic batteries for the flashlight—just in case.
With everything in place, you took a deep breath and stepped into the submarine. The interior was cramped, with barely enough room to stand upright. Every surface was lined with panels of blinking lights, screens displaying data, and rows of buttons and switches whose functions you could only guess at. It was a far cry from the spacious, sterile halls of the facility above.
The guide climbed in after you, maneuvering with practiced ease in the tight space. He gestured for you to sit in one of the reinforced seats bolted to the floor. You complied, feeling the seat’s harness click into place around your suit. The guide moved to the controls at the front of the vessel, flipping switches and pressing buttons with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.
“This is it,” he said without looking back at you. “Once we close the hatch, we’ll begin the descent. The sub is fully automated, so you won’t need to do much. Just keep an eye on your vitals, and stay calm.”
The hatch began to close with a heavy clang, the last sliver of light from the outside world disappearing as the metal door sealed shut. A dull thud echoed through the chamber, followed by a series of mechanical whirs and clicks as the submarine’s systems came online.
You felt a slight shift as the vessel detached from its moorings, the faint sensation of movement signaling the start of your journey. The submarine began its slow, steady descent into the depths, the hum of the engines the only sound breaking the silence.
You glanced at the small viewport beside you, watching as the murky waters of the facility’s dock gave way to the inky blackness of the deep sea. The light from the sub’s exterior lamps cut through the darkness, revealing the occasional flicker of marine life darting past. But as you continued to descend, even those fleeting glimpses faded away, leaving you surrounded by a void so absolute it felt like you were sinking into nothingness.
The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you descended deeper and deeper. The pressure increased with every meter, the submarine creaking and groaning in response. You kept your eyes on the HUD inside your helmet, watching the readings carefully, trying to stay calm.
Suddenly, a voice crackled through the comms, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re reaching the operational depth,” the guide said, his voice sounding distant. “Everything’s looking good. We’ll be in position shortly.”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. You were about to reach the point of no return, the depth where Urbanshade’s mysteries lay hidden.
As the submarine settled into position, the guide turned toward you, his face illuminated by the dim glow of the controls. “From here on out, you’re on your own,” he said, his tone serious. “Follow your mission, and you’ll be fine. And remember—whatever happens, stay focused. This isn’t just some walk in the park. What you find down here could change everything.”
With that, he pressed a final button, and the submarine’s systems hummed to life in full force. The hatch beside you opened with a loud hiss, revealing a narrow passage leading out into the deep.
It was time. You unbuckled your harness, your gloved hands moving with a new sense of purpose. The small pouch on your belt containing the syringe and USB stick felt heavier than before, a constant reminder of the stakes. You adjusted your gear one last time, ensuring everything was secure.
Then, with one final look back at the guide, you stepped out of the submarine and into the unknown.
The submarine’s departure was swift and final, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit underwater dock. The hatch closed with a deep metallic thud, and the vessel immediately began its descent back into the depths, the sound of the engines fading into the surrounding water until there was nothing but silence. You were left to take in your new surroundings.
The dock itself was smaller and far more utilitarian than the one you had departed from. Heavy cargo boxes were stacked neatly along the walls, each labeled with codes and symbols you couldn’t decipher. Metal shelves held various tools and equipment, their contents slightly askew, as if someone had left in a hurry. A few tables were scattered around, covered with open crates, maps, and other items left behind by whoever had last used this space. Everything had a layer of dust on it, giving the place an eerie, abandoned feel.
As you took a cautious step forward, your boots echoed on the metal floor, breaking the stillness. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and oil, mingled with a faint metallic tang that made your skin prickle. The lighting was low, casting long shadows that danced across the walls with each flicker of the overhead lamps.
You moved toward one of the tables, scanning its contents. A few scattered documents caught your eye, their pages yellowed and brittle. Most of the text was smudged or faded, but you could make out references to “Navi-Paths” and “Asset Collection,” terms you recognized from your briefing. Whatever had happened here, it was clear that this facility had been operational once—before it was abandoned to the deep.
Suddenly, a crackle of static filled the air, making you jump. After a moment, a voice from Urbanshade HQ cut through the noise, calm and authoritative.
“Welcome to the Hadal Blackside,” the voice began, echoing in the empty dock with an unsettling clarity. “You are now within one of the most classified zones in all of Urbanshade’s operations. Your objective is simple: collect all assets and follow the designated Navi-Path. The resources you gather here are invaluable to our continued efforts, and your success is imperative.”
The voice paused, letting the weight of the words sink in before continuing.
“The Navi-Path has been mapped out for you. Follow it closely. It's the door signs. Straying from the path may result in disorientation, loss of communication, and even death. You are on your own out there, but we expect nothing less than full compliance. Remember: your mission is the priority. All other considerations are secondary.”
The transmission ended abruptly, leaving you alone once again in the oppressive silence of the dock. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, the enormity of your task settling in. You adjusted the belt strapped around your waist, securing the small pouches that held the few tools you’d been given—some basic equipment, the small syringe for “emergency” use, and the USB stick that would prove vital to your mission.
Steeling yourself, you moved toward the exit, your path uncertain but driven by necessity. The first room beyond the dock was a wide, cavernous space, lit only by a few dimly lights that barely cut through the darkness. The walls were lined with more shelves, some of which had toppled over, spilling their contents onto the floor. Papers, tools, and unidentifiable scraps of metal were strewn everywhere, evidence of some past chaos.
You stepped carefully around the debris, your eyes scanning the room for anything useful. You found a few more documents, some partially legible, others completely ruined by time and moisture. Most were mundane—logs of inventory, maintenance records—but you stuffed a few into your pouch, just in case.
As you moved deeper into the room, your flashlight beam landed on a closed file cabinet in the corner. You approached it cautiously, the handle cold and slightly rusted under your gloved hand. With a bit of effort, you managed to pry it open. Inside, you found a stack of neatly organized files, most of them still in decent condition. You quickly flipped through them, noting the keywords: “Expedition Logs,” “Resource Acquisition,” “Subject Analysis.” These were the assets you were here for. You stuffed as many as you could into your pouch, the weight pressing against your side as you continued your search.
The next room was larger, with a vaulted ceiling that made the space feel even more ominous. Large machines sat dormant along the walls, their purposes unknown but their sheer size intimidating. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, each drop amplified in the silence.
As you moved cautiously through the room, you spotted another item of interest—a small metal case half-hidden under one of the machines. You pulled it out and carefully opened it, revealing a series of USB sticks neatly lined up inside. Each was labeled with codes similar to the ones on the files you’d found. You didn’t know what they contained, but they were clearly important. You took the entire case, securing it in one of your larger pouches.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, sending a jolt of fear through you. You blinked, trying to shake off the unease. The facility was old, after all, and flickering lights were just another sign of its decay—nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself, brushing off the creeping dread that began to settle in.
But then, the sound hit you—an ear-piercing, bone-chilling scream that reverberated through the walls, freezing you in place. It wasn’t human, not by any stretch of the imagination. The sound clawed at your nerves, each second amplifying the terror gnawing at your gut.
Before you could even process what was happening, a massive black cloud of smoke burst into the room, swirling with unnatural speed and intensity. The sight of it sent your mind into a frenzy. This was no ordinary malfunction. Panic gripped you like a vice, your instincts screaming at you to run, to hide, to do anything to escape whatever horror was hurtling toward you.
Without thinking, you bolted toward the nearest hiding spot—an open locker tucked away in the corner of the room. You flung yourself inside, pulling the door shut just as the cloud surged closer, filling the room with darkness and a suffocating sense of dread. You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to stay as still and quiet as possible.
Inside the cramped locker, you could hear the creature—or whatever it was—moving through the room, the sounds it made more akin to a swarm than a single entity. It hissed and crackled, its presence oppressive, as if the very air was being sucked out of the space. You could feel the vibrations of its movements through the metal walls of the locker, each shift causing you to tense up even more.
Time seemed to stretch out, every second an agonizing eternity as you waited, hoping that the creature would pass you by. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, none of them comforting. What was that thing? Why was it here? And, most terrifying of all—would it find you?
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to quiet your breathing, hoping against hope that the locker would be enough to shield you from whatever nightmare had been unleashed in this forsaken place.
The giant monster rushed past as quickly as it had appeared, leaving you trembling in the confines of the locker. Your chest heaved, desperate for air, but it felt like no oxygen was reaching your lungs. Panic gripped you tightly, each breath coming out as a shallow gasp. Your thoughts spiraled, the terror of what you’d just witnessed crashing over you in waves.
Your hands shook uncontrollably as you fumbled with the helmet of your diving suit, the need to get it off suddenly overwhelming. The locker felt suffocatingly small, the walls pressing in on you from all sides. You could feel the cold metal against your back, your fingers finally finding the latch on the helmet. With a frantic jerk, you ripped it off your head, letting it fall with a clatter inside the cramped space.
Gasping, you sucked in the stale, metallic-tasting air of the locker, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, the sound of your own pulse deafening in your ears. It felt like the walls were closing in, squeezing the breath out of your lungs. No matter how much air you took in, it wasn’t enough to calm the storm raging inside you.
Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, your mind replaying the sight of that monstrous cloud over and over again. The sheer horror of it, the way it had filled the room with darkness and dread, it was too much to handle. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force the images out of your head, but they wouldn’t go away. The locker felt like a cage, trapping you with your fear, and your thoughts spiraled further out of control.
Your breaths came faster and faster, each one shallower than the last. You tried to steady yourself, to get a grip, but your body wouldn’t listen. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic, every nerve in your body screaming for escape, but there was nowhere to go. The fear had taken over completely, locking you in a vice grip of terror.
For what felt like an eternity, you sat there, struggling to breathe, your body shaking with the intensity of the panic attack. Eventually, the sheer exhaustion began to slow your frantic breaths, but the fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind. You knew you couldn’t stay in the locker forever, but the thought of stepping back out into the darkness, where that thing might still be lurking, was almost too much to bear.
But you also knew you couldn’t stay in this state, trapped in a locker, paralyzed by fear. You forced yourself to take deeper breaths, to focus on the sound of your breathing, the feel of the cold air filling your lungs.
In the end, you couldn’t stay in the locker any longer. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you with your own fear. With shaky breaths, you finally gathered the courage to push open the door and step out into the dark, disorienting space. The room was eerily silent, the absence of light making it impossible to see where you were going. You hesitated, trying to get your bearings without crashing into any furniture or walls.
Then it hit you—you had a flashlight. Relief mingled with your lingering panic as you remembered. Quickly, you fumbled for it, plucking it from your belt and flipping it on. The beam cut through the darkness, revealing the room around you. The light danced over scattered documents, overturned furniture, and… a strange, human-shaped hole in the wall.
You blinked, trying to make sense of it. The edges of the hole were jagged, as if something had forced its way out of the wall. Unease prickled at the back of your neck as you stepped closer, the flashlight’s beam trembling in your hand. You leaned in to get a better look, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.
Suddenly, a soft, almost imperceptible sound echoed through the hall—a faint shuffling, like something dragging across the floor. You froze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. The sound was close, too close, and it sent a chill down your spine.
You swung the flashlight around, its beam sweeping over the room, desperately searching for the source of the noise. The light caught movement—just a flicker at the edge of the beam, but enough to send your heart racing.
Your breath hitched as you slowly turned toward the direction of the movement. Your flashlight illuminated a figure emerging from the wall itself, its form eerily human but distorted in unsettling ways. The Wall Dweller moved silently, its dark, gaunt shape blending seamlessly with the shadows. It was halfway out of the wall, its empty eyes locked on you with a chilling intensity.
For a moment, you were paralyzed by fear, your body refusing to respond as the Wall Dweller slithered free from the wall. But as the flashlight beam lingered on it, something unexpected happened—the creature froze. Its body stood still against the light, and for a brief second, it seemed almost uncertain.
Then, with a sudden, jerky motion, the Wall Dweller recoiled. It shifted back, retreating toward the open door you came from as if the light had unnerved it. You watched in shock as the creature sprinted back through the hallway, its gaunt figure slipping away into the darkness from which you came. The shuffling sound faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving you alone in the quiet room once more.
You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, flashlight still pointed at the now-empty wall. The encounter had left you rattled, but relief washed over you as you realized the Wall Dweller had fled, seemingly more afraid of you—or perhaps of the light—than you were of it.
Slowly, you lowered the flashlight, trying to steady your breath. The room was silent again, but the tension in the air had lessened. Whatever that thing was, it was gone now.
You took a moment to steady yourself, the flashlight still clutched tightly in your hand. The room was quiet, the Wall Dweller gone, but your nerves were frayed. You couldn’t afford to stay here any longer, not with the darkness pressing in and the uncertainty of what might be lurking nearby. You needed to keep moving.
Cautiously, you stepped out of the room and into the hallway, the beam of your flashlight leading the way. The hall stretched out before you, lined with doors that seemed to go on forever. You chose one at random, the door creaking open as you pushed it with trembling hands. The room beyond was an office, eerily quiet and dimly lit by the emergency lights flickering weakly overhead.
You scanned the room, your eyes falling on several desks cluttered with papers and office supplies. You knew what you were here for—files, documents, anything that might be of value or contain information. Your heart was still racing, but you forced yourself to move forward, sweeping the flashlight over the desks and shelves.
As you approached the nearest desk, you noticed a stack of files haphazardly piled on top. Quickly, you started rifling through them, your eyes scanning the labels and dates. Some of them seemed important, so you grabbed what you could, shoving the files into the small pouch at your waist. The rest of the room yielded more documents, USB sticks, and other bits of data that you added to your growing collection.
The more you found, the more you realized how vital this information might be. But as you continued to search, the lights above you flickered, sending a jolt of fear straight through your chest. You froze, staring at the ceiling as the light stuttered again, threatening to plunge you into darkness.
Panic gripped you. The memory of the Wall Dweller was still fresh in your mind, and the thought of being caught in the dark again was unbearable. Your breath quickened, the room suddenly feeling far too exposed, too open. You needed to get out, and fast.
There was no locker here, nowhere to hide. You glanced around frantically, searching for another exit, another room—anywhere that might offer safety. The lights flickered once more, this time staying off for a fraction too long. It was enough to make your decision.
Without thinking, you bolted from the office, your footsteps echoing loudly in the deserted hallway. You didn't care about the noise, didn't care about anything except getting to a place where you could hide. The hallway seemed endless, but you pushed yourself forward, heart hammering in your chest.
Finally, you spotted another door ahead, slightly ajar. You sprinted towards it, not slowing down until you reached it. Your hand shot out, wrenching the door open as you stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind you.
Panting heavily, you leaned against the door, trying to catch your breath. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of your flashlight, but it felt safer—more enclosed. You aimed the beam around, revealing another small office. This one was more cramped, with just enough space to move around.
Relief washed over you as you noticed a locker in the corner, its metal surface gleaming dully in the light. You wasted no time, crossing the room and throwing open the locker door. It was empty, just big enough for you to fit inside. You clambered in, pulling the door shut behind you as you crouched down, trying to quiet your breathing.
The darkness of the locker felt strangely comforting now, a shield against the unknown. You hugged your knees to your chest, listening intently for any sound outside. But there was nothing—just the pounding of your own heart and the faint hum of the building’s dying lights.
And then a heavy force rushed into the room before smashing itself against the metallic locker, the force pressing a dent into the double doors, making you scream as your space went smaller and smaller. You pushed your shaking legs against the doors with full force, keeping the dent and the monster from squishing you to death but whatever the creature was, wouldn't stop and rammed more against the poor locker that would soon give up.
Your heart pounded in your chest as the relentless force continued to crash against the locker, each impact louder and more violent than the last. The cold metal bent inward with every strike, the sound of creaking steel and the screech of the creature echoing in your ears. The small space grew unbearably tight, the walls closing in as you pushed back with all your might, your legs trembling under the strain. Fear clawed at your throat as you realized the locker wouldn't hold much longer. Desperation surged through you as you searched frantically for any possible escape, knowing that the next impact could be your last.
The relentless assault finally ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. You gasped for breath, your body trembling from the strain and adrenaline. The creature had retreated, its monstrous presence fading into the distance. The metal locker, now warped and twisted, barely provided any protection, but it was over.
Your legs were numb, a dull ache spreading through your entire body. Bruises throbbed on your skin where the locker had pressed into you, and the terror of the encounter left you drained, every ounce of energy spent. As the adrenaline ebbed away, the pain intensified, overwhelming your senses.
With a final, weak breath, your vision blurred, and you slipped into unconsciousness, your body slumped behind the battered double doors.
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