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ilyrafe · 7 months ago

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𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x ex!f!reader

warnings: angst, pregnancy scare

word count: 1.6k

“i need to talk to you, it’s urgent. can i come over?”

the text catches rafe by surprise as he hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks. since the breakup, to be specific.

despite not being your boyfriend anymore, rafe still cares for you a great deal, and you rarely text him stuff like this, so it must be serious.

“of course.”

he puts his phone down and begins to wonder what must have happened for you to break your own idea of going no contact.

this has been killing him, not being able to talk to you. he misses you more than he anticipated and it sucks. it’s horrible not having you around, and the saddest bit is that he has no one else to blame but himself.

him and his ways.

half an hour later, he hears a knock on the door and before he can stand up from the chair, you come in. you seem anxious. terrified, even.

“hey.”

“hey, what’s so urgent?”

“i’m late.” you say, but rafe frowns, not quite understanding what you mean. “i’m late, rafe.”

“late?”

“my period, rafe. i’m late.”

oh.

oh, no.

“h-how late are you? i thought you took the pill!”

“i did, but i am a week late. so, i wanna know what we’re gonna do about it.”

rafe needs to breathe, it seems that all the air has left the room. he takes a step back and rubs his face with both hands, trying to be rational.

you’re probably pregnant with his child. this is not how he imagined this was going to happen. it turns out, rafe is quite traditional.

“what do you want to do?”

you seem a bit surprised with his question.

“i… i don’t know, rafe. we’re too young.”

“i’m good with whatever you decide. if you want to keep it, i won’t, uh, i won’t be absent. i’ll provide for you both, i’ll do everything i have to. and if you don’t want to keep it, i’ll pay for it.”

this isn’t going how you were expecting, if you’re being honest. you expected a fight, you expected rafe to claim it wasn’t his child, but… he’s being mature about it, which is new.

truthfully, you don’t know what you want. sure, you’d like children, but not now. not when you’re nineteen and don’t have a clue about what you’re doing in life. not when you don’t have a partner, a job, a house. not when the father of your child is rafe cameron, a drug addict with anger issues.

“i’d like to buy some tests first before i decide what i want to do.”

he nods and takes his car keys, leading you out of the office and taking you to his car.

it doesn’t take long for him to drive you to the nearest drugstore. when he parks the car, you don’t move an inch.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“i can’t believe this is happening to me.” you say, not being able to hold the tears any longer. this is a nightmare. “what am i gonna tell my parents?”

“you’ll tell them the truth. you’re pregnant and you won’t be doing this alone, i’m here.”

you look at rafe quite skeptically and try your best to believe him, but he’s broken your trust so many times before, it’s difficult to see any honesty in his words.

“not telling them anything and getting an abortion is also an option, you know? we don’t have to tell anybody. whatever it is that you decide, i’m cool with it.”

for your own sake, you choose to believe him and wipe away your tears before you exit his car and go to the drugstore.

you try not to look so suspicious, but you’re looking around, to make sure no one you know is there, and thankfully you’re safe. you buy three different tests and quickly come back to rafe’s car.

the drive back home is excruciating. you can already picture your future as a single mother. you fear what your parents will say if you are indeed pregnant, which you probably are. you’re never late. when you were two days late, you thought it was odd, but then the days kept passing by and nothing happened.

then you did the math.

rafe, on the other hand, is actually happy that you might be pregnant with his child. he always knew he wanted to be a father. this is probably not the best time because you’re not a couple, you’re not really adults, and you don’t really have a stable life, but hey, this is what happens when you have unprotected sex. sure, you took the pill, but no contraceptive is one hundred percent effective.

this kid may be rafe’s only chance to have you somehow linked to him forever and that isn’t a bad thing necessarily… right?

once you’re back to tanney hill, you and rafe nearly run to his bedroom and he makes sure to lock the door so no one can catch them. you open them all and read all the instructions to do it right. you enter his bathroom and once you’re done, rafe has expectant eyes.

“so?”

“we have to wait five minutes.”

“oh, let me set a timer.”

he pulls up his phone and sets a five minute timer while you sit on his bed and sigh as you look up, trying to remain calm, but you can’t.

“i think we should talk about our… possibilities.”

“what possibilities?”

“if you are pregnant and want to keep it, you won’t be doing this alone, okay? i promise. i know this isn’t ideal, but… we’ll get through it. money isn’t a problem.”

“rafe, this isn’t the point. i don’t want to have a baby at nineteen with someone who isn’t my husband. like, i respect the ones who do it, but i don’t want this to be my life.”

rafe chuckles. you’re such a goodie-goodie, he wonders how the hell he managed to get you to date him.

“c’mon, you’ll be a great mom.” he says, truthfully. “you’re great with kids and you’re so caring, so understanding.”

you look at him and chuckle.

“that’s not only what it takes to be a mother.”

“but that’s also important.”

you lie down on his bed and take a deep breath. if rafe wasn’t so unstable, you’d consider having his baby, but… he’s not. he’s being good now, but you can’t predict how he’s going to be tomorrow morning and you can’t raise a child in this environment. you know better than that.

“if you’re keeping the baby, i’m getting clean.” he says. “i’ll quit everything.”

“rafe…”

“i’m serious. i don’t want my kid to be afraid of me, to be in danger because of me.”

the last part breaks your heart a little, as it was one of the reasons why you decided to break things off with him.

“that’s… that’s good to know.”

“i know we don’t need to be married to have a kid, but it’d be nice to, i don’t know, try again.”

“you want to get back together because i’m pregnant?” you snort.

“i want to get back together because i miss you and i love you, and since you might be pregnant, i think it’d be better for us to try again, so our baby can have a full family. you know, mom and dad in the same space.”

our baby. hearing rafe say such things make you even more confused and aggravated, only because you know, deep down, rafe isn’t the right guy for you, as much as you love each other. you know you’re too good for him because even barry told you so.

“he’s a lost cause, y/n. don’t be wastin’ your time with him, he’ll get you in trouble and you don’t deserve that.”

“stop saying things like that, rafe. please, this isn’t the time.” you plead, trying not to cry.

god knows how difficult it was to end things with him, because you love him oh so much. as cliché as it sounds, he’s really not like the other guys. he’s sweet, caring, funny and smart, but he also keeps setting himself up for failure and you’ve realized you can’t fix him and that realization alone broke you in tiny little pieces.

it’s like they say, loving someone is also learning to let them go and this is what you’ve been trying to do. it kills you that you told him to never talk to you again, because you miss his voice. you miss his jokes. you miss hearing his voice saying your name or whatever silly nickname he comes up with.

his phone rings, startling you both. once again, you don’t move, so rafe takes you by the hand and enter his bathroom with you. on the counter, you take the tests and see the results.

negative

the relief you feel is indescribable. you can finally breathe.

“what does it say?” he asks, a bit anxious.

“they’re all negative.” you respond, showing him the tests.

“oh,”

“oh, my god.” you sigh, smiling for the first time in a week. you turn to rafe and give him a hug. “thank you, rafe.”

rafe hugs you back, basking in the feeling of having you back in his arms again. for a few seconds, he allows himself to forget you both are broken up and just had a pregnancy scare. for a few seconds, you’re his again and nothing else matters.

“you okay?”

“now i am.” you chuckle, wiping away new tears.

“d’you want me to drive you home?”

“no, no, it’s okay. i’ve bothered you too much today.” you say, jokingly.

whenever you said that, he always said you never bother me, but he figures now it would be inappropriate.

“call me if you need anything, okay?”

“okay. thank you.”

you give him one last smile before you get your things and leave tanney hill, feeling light as a feather, not at all suspecting that rafe feels like absolute shit.

when you pictured your life as a single mother, rafe saw himself with a family. his own family. the people he would do anything and everything for, the people he would love endlessly.

the only hope he had of having you back in his life, the only thing that would make him turn his life around, the only person who would make him want to be a better person.

it never existed.

tell me what you think! i love feedback <3

#my writings #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey imagine

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dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago

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Hope | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl never would’ve expected that the universe would grant him you, the love of his life, much less a child of his own to love and care for. So when your daughter was born, Daryl felt truly overwhelmed. However, it happened to be one of the best days of his life.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of childbirth, insecurities.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble but it got longer than I expected lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was in complete awe. His heart was pounding out of his chest. His palms were extremely sweaty. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say or do other than stand motionless and stare. Daryl was a quiet guy, but never before in his life had something rendered him completely speechless quite like this momentous occasion; the birth of his daughter.

It had been a good thirty, maybe forty minutes since the cries of his newborn baby flooded his ears, and he hadn’t been able to say or do anything except look at her and try to wrap his mind around the fact that he was a dad, that he had a daughter now. His baby girl. He was feeling overwhelmed by everything. He had read every pregnancy and parenting book he could get his hands on since you had told him you were pregnant, yet none of them could have ever prepared him for the actual experience. None of them could prepare him for the wave of emotions that flooded through his being when his daughter’s first cries filled the air. None of them could prepare him for the absolute certainty that filled him—he would kill anyone who’d dare hurt his baby girl.

“Dar? You still with me?”

The sound of your angelic voice snapped him from his train of thought. “Hm?” he hummed in acknowledgement, forcing himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He was sitting on a chair beside the bed in your home, courtesy of Carol’s kindness. She had taken one look at the archer during your labouring process and had cleverly noticed that he would faint if he didn’t sit down. Thankfully, the crossbow-wielding archer had stayed lucid during the birth, although he was certain that the bones in his hand were cracked from the force you had bestowed on them while you were pushing.

You chuckled fondly as you looked at him through tired, half lidded eyes. “You okay?” you asked him, wincing slightly when you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, the effects of the birth making themselves known to you. Your daughter was busy nursing, her adorable, eager, breathy suckles and gulps the only other sound that could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet room. Carol and Siddiq had left the room ten minutes prior, leaving you and Daryl alone to bond with your new baby.

Daryl cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, giving you his full attention. “M’pretty sure I should be askin’ ya that. Yer the one that pushed a baby out, not me.”

You chuckled again and nodded. “Yeah, I was. And I’m okay. I’m sore, but that was a given. Nothing we could’ve done to prevent the pain.” Your smile dropped a little, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you looked at your husband. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem a little... out of it.”

Daryl let out a small sigh. “M’jus’ a touch overwhelmed, I s’pose, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t get over. S’jus’... Hearin’ her cries, and seein’ her... I don’ know. It made me realize that it wasn’t a dream. That this is real. That we’re really doin’ this, startin’ a family. S’a bit surreal to me, I guess. ‘Fore all’a this, ‘fore I met ya, when I was jus’ bummin’ it out with my brother, I never would’ve thought that I’d be doin’ this.”

You intently listened to his words, a small, understanding smile gracing your tired features. “Are you scared?”

“Ya kiddin’? M’fuckin’ terrified. I don’ wanna screw it up. I don’ wanna fail either’a ya. If I do... I don’ know what I’d do with myself,” Daryl confessed in a low whisper, his voice cracking towards the end.

Your heart went out for your partner. You were well aware of his fears. You were also well aware of the fact that no amount of reassuring would make his fears go away overnight. However, what you did know was that there was something you could do that could potentially make him feel better at that moment.

“Do you wanna hold her?” you asked him softly, your eyes locking onto his cerulean eyes.

Yes. Daryl definitely wanted to hold her. However, as his eyes trailed down to the small, fragile being that had seemingly had enough to eat and instead opted to slightly wiggle around in your embrace, a new set of worry overcame him.

“Yer sure?” he asked unsurely. “I ain’t gon’ break her or nothin’?”

A light laugh escaped your chest. “I promise you’re not going to break her. You’ll be fine, I promise. Come here. And maybe unbutton your shirt, if you’re comfortable.” Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at that last part, but understood when you explained it to him. “Skin to skin contact helps with bonding. At least, that’s what Carol told me. You don’t have to unbutton your shirt all the way. Just a bit is fine.”

“What ‘bout...” Daryl trailed off, vaguely motioning to his chest. He didn’t need to specify what he was talking about. You instantly knew. His scars.

You sent him a reassuring smile. “She’ll love you regardless, Dar, just like me. Nothing’s gonna change that. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Daryl hesitated but ultimately stood up from the chair, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to a little over halfway, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Remember to support her head.” Daryl nodded and slowly and gently accepted the baby into his embrace, heeding your advice and supporting her tiny head.

Daryl’s awe multiplied by one hundred when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. Her tiny head was practically the same size as his hand. Her tiny body lightly pressed against his scarred flesh as Daryl held her, and the archer couldn’t help the small laugh of wonder that escaped him. “She’s so small... She’s so damn small.” One of his fingers lightly traced over her tiny hand, and Daryl smiled when she lightly gripped his finger in her small fist. “She’s got quite the grip, too, and she ain’t even a day old yet. Real strong for her age, I reckon.”

“Definitely,” you agreed with a smile, slowly shifting your body to rest your chin on his shoulder, one of your hands coming up to softly trace over your daughter’s cheek. “She’s so perfect.”

“Jus’ like her mama.” Daryl turned his attention to you, placing a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t argue with his words, instead simply accepting the compliment with a small smile. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, simply observing your little girl as she slowly fell asleep in her father’s arms. However, Daryl soon broke the silence again.

“Hope.”

You lifted your chin from his shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Her name,” he began to explain. “I think we should call her Hope. S’what I feel when I look at her. Jus’ feels right.”

You smiled at him, before turning your attention back to your daughter. “Welcome to the world, Hope Dixon. I love you so much,” you whispered to her softly, quietly acknowledging Daryl’s choice of a name. Hope. It was perfect.

Daryl sent you a small smile. “S’got a nice ring to it. Hope Dixon.”

“It’s perfect,” you agreed with a smile. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Nah, I definitely love ya more, Sunshine. I love ya so much.”

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shoopsthereitis · 20 days ago

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jegulus | 1k words

lil jegulus I wrote for a secret santa for a dear friend. sirius finding out about jegulus at hogwarts

“James, no,” Regulus insists, pressing a hand to James’ chest in the corridor.

“Come on, Reg, please? No one’s around. It’s late, and I haven’t seen you in days.” James knows he’s being reckless, but he can’t help it. He didn’t mean to run into Regulus, but when he spotted him during his Prefect rounds, he couldn’t resist catching up, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. He’s missed him more than he probably should admit—more than what’s acceptable for two people who’ve been secretly dating for four months.

It all started by accident. A few months ago, James found himself in the library needing to study, but it was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday. He wandered around, searching for a place to sit, and the only available seat was at a table with Regulus. Reluctantly, Regulus let him join, and by the end of the night, James was completely smitten. After that, hallway run-ins where James would change course just to walk Regulus to class, and Quidditch changing room chats became weekly occurrences, and it all fell together naturally. Neither of them had expected to fall for the other, so they’ve been taking it slow.

Now, four months later, they’re still together, and James couldn’t be happier. But with how protective Sirius is of his brother, Regulus has insisted they keep the whole thing a secret. James gets it, but part of him hates lying to his best friend. He’s been trying to convince Regulus that they should tell him now that they’re serious. Thankfully, Regulus is warming to the idea.

“We could go back to my dorm? I think Remus, Sirius, and Pete are at the library,” James offers.

“After the other day when I was trapped in your room under the invisibility cloak, I don’t want to take any chances. I missed Potions because of that, and Sirius nearly caught us.”

“But he didn’t,” James grins. Regulus rolls his eyes, the way James loves because he only does it when he has no snarky comment to say back.

“Anyone could find us here, we’re not exactly hidden.” Regulus’ body betrays his words when he steps closer to James, his hands reaching out for his robes. James instinctively brings him in, pulling their bodies flush.

Running a hand through the soft strands of Regulus’ curls, he tips his head back, their eyes meeting. “Regulus,” James starts, feeling completely lost in his storm grey eyes, “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

There’s a war going on behind Regulus’ eyes, weighing his options, debating the risks. Ultimately, he gives in, sending James a small nod before leaning up. The moment their lips touch, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only thoughts of RegulusRegulusRegulus.

This is what always happens with the two of them. They get utterly sucked into each other’s orbit, and are unable to notice anything else. Even the other day in James’ dorm, they were much too close to getting caught, not realising the door had clicked open until they heard Sirius and Peter’s voices. Regulus practically rolled off the bed, and James had to cough and stomp his foot to cover the thud of Regulus’ body hitting the floor as he covered himself with the cloak.

“James, I missed you,” Regulus whispers against his lips, and it makes James' heart sing. It always takes a few minutes for Regulus’ walls to come down, but when they do, when he gets soft and open with how he feels—there’s nothing like it.

Heart fluttering from Regulus’ words and his body lit up from Regulus’ touch, James stops worrying about where they are. Unfortunately, he probably should start paying more attention.

“What in Merlin’s name is this?”

They pull apart, James whirling around to find Sirius. His arms are crossed, a scowl on his face, and he looks pissed. James has half a mind to run, but that thought fades when he turns and sees Regulus, whose expression mirrors Sirius'—scowl and everything.

“What does it look like, Sirius? I’m kissing James,” Regulus says dryly.

“I can see that, Regulus. What I’m confused about is why it doesn’t look to me like a first kiss,” Sirius responds.

James’ palms start to sweat. If there’s one place you don’t want to be, it’s in the middle of a fight between the Black Brothers. “Sirius, we were going to tell you—”

“Tell me what? That you’ve been kissing my brother? Cus it sure doesn’t seem like you were going to tell me.”

“I—we—the thing is—” James is floundering. He knows it, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“We’ve been seeing each other for four months. We weren’t going to tell you unless it became something worth telling. Which it has, so surprise! James and I are dating.”

Heart flooding with warmth, James can’t help but look at Regulus, likely with a dopey look on his face. Regulus’ lips twitch quickly when his eyes shift sidelong to James.

“Please don’t be mad, Sirius. I really like him. I wanted to tell you, I swear—”

“Prongs, relax.” Sirius’ expression softens into a small smile as he steps forward, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. “I’ve had a hunch about you two for a while. The way you look at each other? It’s not hard to figure out. Also, you’re not as sneaky as you think. I knew Regulus was in the dorm the other day, why do you think I droned on about nothing for an hour?” Sirius grins. “Honestly, I’m ecstatic. My best friend and my brother? How could it get better? Just don’t hurt each other, and I’m all for it.”

Shocked, James looks back at Regulus before his head turns towards Sirius, a wide smile on his face.

“You’re really fine with this?” Regulus asks.

“I’m fine with it. I’d just prefer not to see it. And don’t ever lie to me again, James.”

James smiles. “Wouldn’t think of it.How did you even end up over here, anyway? This isn’t on the way back to the dorm.”

Sirius pulls the map from his pocket, waving it in the air. “Next time you try to hide something from me, maybe don’t forget we have a map that shows us where everyone in the castle is.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk and James laughs.

“You have a map that shows you where everyone is in the castle?” Regulus blurts out in disbelief.

Whipping their heads toward him, Sirius and James share a sidelong glance.

“Shit,” they say in unison.

#I never write them at hogwarts this was so fun #jegulus #microfic #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #microsar #marauders #sirius black #good blend shoutout #jegulus microfic

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months ago

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Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You have what some might consider to be an odd celebrity crush. Until you meet him in real life, that is. | 1.1k+ words of fluff!

Part 2: Celebrity Crush, Table for Two >

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

As you twirl your straw in your drink, you tune out the conversation of your friends. The message to get ready had come last minute, with only a few minutes to prepare for an outing before your best friend arrived to pick you up. You had been watching a true-crime documentary when the message came through, and rather than listen to your friends discuss their weekend plans, you think about the case in the show. Or, more specifically, one of the officers who worked the case.

“Hello,” one of your friends calls.

She draws the word out and waves a hand in front of your face, which you bat away when your attention returns to the restaurant and the people around you.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “What are we talking about?”

“Celebrity crushes!” she cheers. “Mine is Tom Cruise.”

“Gross! He’s old enough to be your dad,” another girl comments.

“And he can pay for everything like my dad, too.”

“Can we move on?” someone interrupts. “Who’s yours?”

“Mine?” you clarify, pointing at yourself. “Oh, uh, you probably haven’t heard of him.”

“C’mon, spill!” they encourage.

You shake your head, and the friend closest to you repeats, “Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Tim Bradford,” you answer softly.

“Who?”

“He’s a cop, and he’s been in some documentaries. Like the ones with Corey Harris and Aaron Thorsen. Plus, a new one with doppelgangers,” you explain.

“So, he’s a cop, not a celebrity,” your best friend argues.

“He’s been on TV! More than once,” you point out.

“Girl, you know I love you, but that’s more of a ‘hear me out’ than a celebrity crush.”

You shake your head and sit back in your seat. The sooner you get home to finish the documentary, the better.

The next day, after you’ve finished the newest documentary and your crush on Tim Bradford has strengthened, you find yourself out shopping with your friends. Thankfully, they’ve moved on from the celebrity crush comment. While you’re in the third store of the day, you wait in the dressing rooms to rate your best friends’ choices while the other girls shop.

An employee approaches you with a nervous smile and asks if anyone else is in the fitting area.

“Yes, one of my friends is trying something on. Is everything okay?” you answer.

“Oh, of course. I don’t want to alarm you, but we’ve locked the doors because there are some suspicious characters in the area. The police are on the way, so everything will be under control soon.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” you say.

She sighs in relief that you were kind about the ordeal, then walks away to alert other customers. You look toward the large windows on the storefront but don’t see anything happening in the parking lot.

A few minutes later, after your friends have purchased their items and are waiting to leave, two police officers walk to the locked door and knock on it. The employee you spoke to earlier rushes to let them in and obeys when the male officer instructs her to lock the door again.

“Ladies, we’re with the LAPD,” the shorter man says. “Our colleagues are outside handling the situation as we speak. However, we need your help; if you’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary today, please meet me at the counter and we’ll fill out a report.”

The employees follow him to the counter, and you realize that he is in the documentaries you’ve been watching. As you turn to look outside again, you see the other officer.

“Are you Sergeant Tim Bradford?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, I just watched the documentaries you were in and thought it was you. Your insight was informative; I liked listening to your side of the case.”

He smiles kindly and says, “I’m glad.”

You nod, then step back and look around the store. Unsure how much longer you’ll have to wait, you take a moment to look at the merchandise. You usually tag along on shopping trips but don’t buy anything. Your friends have different tastes than you, and an easier time buying things for themselves. One item catches your eye, and you run your finger over it. They have your preferred size, and you tap it a few times before you look away again.

Unknown to you, Tim watches you. He’s seen people come up to Aaron, Lucy, and even Nolan, and claim to have seen them on television. Those encounters usually end with someone asking for a picture, an autograph, and, once, to get their cousin released early. This is the first time he’s heard a genuine compliment, and he’s happy to have been the one you chose to give it to.

“Officer Bradford?” his partner calls. “A word?”

You smile at Tim when you look toward him, and with his eyes already on you, he notices immediately. He dips his chin as he walks past you, and you walk across the room to your friends.

“Wait, is that your celebrity crush?” your best friend whispers. “You didn’t say he was like… Abercrombie model hot!”

You shrug, and she turns to your other friends to talk about how attractive the officers are. Your gaze wanders back to the only thing in the store you’d ever consider buying, but you shake your head and look at Tim Bradford instead.

“The situation has been handled and the area is safe now. You’re free to go,” he announces. “Thank you for your help.”

Your friends rush out, eager to get to another store, but you walk toward the door at a normal pace. Tim and his partner are walking out too, and you hold the door for them.

“Go ahead,” Tim tells his partner. “Thanks,” he says to you.

He stops beside you, and you let the door close. After a glance over his shoulder, Tim passes you a bag.

“What is this?” you inquire.

“A thank you.”

“For?”

“Being nice. Plus, you didn’t ogle me like your friends.”

You chuckle and smile as you argue, “You’ve got to be used to that.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

You peek in the bag and see the item you were looking at. “I can’t accept this.”

“The ladies inside told me I had to take something for keeping them safe.”

“And you got me something?” Tim smiles, and you shake your head. “Thank you.”

“If you’d really like to thank me or hear more about those cases you seem to like so much, maybe we could meet for dinner sometime.”

“I would love that.”

“Great. I have to go, but… give me a call.”

You watch him leave, then realize that he didn’t give you his number. As you walk away, you pull the receipt from the bag. But it isn’t a receipt. It’s a piece of paper with his name and number. Under that, he wrote, I never wanted to be a celebrity crush before today.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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noirsdoll · 3 days ago

Text

-> pretty please? bonus!

all aboard! | the dinner party | room for three

pairing: curly / wife!reader / jimmy

words: 4.4k

tags: rape, threesome (f/m/m), painal, double penetration, light cucking, curly and reader are married, jimmy went to jail, mentions of jimmy's abuse towards anya, homoerotic codependent friendship, half of this is porn, no crash au

notes: this is more of a bonus chapter than a third one just cuz i think curly and reader's dynamic switches up a lot with the introduction of jimmy... there's a lot going on here LMAO i hope you like it!! i wanted to touch more on the similarities between jimmy and reader w this one!

read it on ao3

Jimmy’s walking, talking, “Get Out Of Jail Free Card” is pissing you off.

“No, we’re not letting him stay here!” You exclaim and for the first time in your relationship, this is real anger. He can’t be serious.

Curly pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and sighs, the other arm rocking your newborn. “It’s only going to be for a month at most. Just till he gets back on his feet.”

Your jaw drops. “We have a kid, Grant. And Jimmy’s a convicted sex offender.”

“He wouldn’t do something like that, not with a child.” Curly cups your cheek, his gaze blindingly warm. “Jimmy’s learned his lesson.”

You stare at him in bewilderment. You’ve found it, Curly’s hard limit and it’s for Jimmy of all people. The guy who’s best known for sticking his dick in anything remotely concave.

You were hoping you’d have a few months of peace before this happened, not for your husband to go behind your back and pay Jimmy’s bail. Curly can soothe you and fuck you all he wants, you are not forgiving him for this.

You bury your face in your hands. “Alright. Fine. Fine! But if he tries anything I’m kicking him out.”

“We’ll be fine, honey. Don’t be so negative.” Curly hands you your kid. “I think you gotta change him.” He stinks.

Jimmy stinks.

You know for a fact that prisons have showers and soap, so he has no excuse. You may be biased, however, considering he’s going to be sharing this beautiful house with both you and Curly.

It feels like he’s smearing his filth over your clean floors— the first thing you order him to do is take a shower. Thankfully, Curly agrees, kissing your hair and bidding you farewell for the day like he always does. Jimmy makes a face and says nothing, heading for your bathroom.

As the shower runs, you take the time to cook yourself some food. Instinctively, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once. Down the hall, to the bathroom right across from your son’s room. You know he wouldn’t, Curly said he wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

You have a life that you need to put before your own now, a life that needs your protection. This was all for your kid at the end of the day. You ignore the anxiety festering in your gut, turning back to your cooking.

Eventually, Jimmy plops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, wearing Curly’s pajamas. His wet hair falls in strings. The silence drags before he speaks. “You look pretty good for just having a kid,” he draws out slyly.

“Thanks.” You don’t look at him, off put by the compliment.

You hear the telltale creak of him leaning back in his chair. “It’s a nice life you got, huh? Curly’s treating you well?”

“Well, he’s my husband. Of course he should.”

Jimmy just scoffs, about to say something more before he’s interrupted by your baby crying. Instantly, you turn off the stove and take down the hall. Finally, an excuse to get away from him and his thinly-veiled jealousy.

Unfortunately, Jimmy trails after you, pretending not to follow you while also clearly doing so. He catches the door when you go to close it, bullying his way in. “Am I such bad company?”

“No.” You think Jimmy is closer to head lice than anything likeable, but he can be personable at times. You pick up your baby, shushing him, gently rocking him. Jimmy’s looming behind you, against the wall by the door.

He grimaces at the sound. “Does it shut up?”

“He’s hungry,” you say, eyes only on your crying baby. Every heart-wrenching wail tugs at something so innate inside you. “Could you leave so that I can feed him?”

Jimmy grins. “And miss out on a show? Why would I do that?”

Your face crumples in disdain. But he’s clearly not leaving and you’ve got a kid to feed, so you just turn away from him, back to your son’s cradle. The air doesn’t feel intense, it feels stifling as you lift up your shirt, bringing your baby’s crying mouth to your nipple.

There’s this weird pressure in your chest, one you’ve never felt before. The short, subtle crawl of ice down your spine. Unsafe, you feel unsafe. Why, you don’t know, but that pressure builds, sharp and nauseating.

The silence drags, you focus on your kid, making sure he properly attaches, that he’s actually drinking. When he’s full, you pull back and tug down your shirt. On impulse, you look behind you.

Jimmy’s gone, like you just imagined him. A ghost.

Dinner comes and goes. You’re changing your son’s diaper as Curly and Jimmy talk in the living room. You can hear their laughter and lively conversation through the walls. Swaddling your kid, you pull him into your arms.

You sing him a lullaby, rocking him to sleep. Alone in this room, you can still feel Jimmy. That moment is etched in your brain. It clings to the walls of the room like cigarette smoke on drywall.

The door opens and you jump. Fortunately, it’s just Curly. He comes up behind you, big warm hands sliding over your stomach and waist. He kisses your temple. “How are you feeling?”

You lean back into him. “Exhausted.” You rub an eye with your free hand.

“Yeah, I bet.” His voice rumbles against your back, lulling you half to sleep. “Jimmy and I are going to head out to the bar for the night. We’ll be back before it's late.”

That wakes you up. You turn to face him. “What? But you just got home and I missed you all day.”

Curly just smiles as if you’d said a joke that was half amusing. “I haven’t seen him in months. We’re only catching up.”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. This would be the part where you flare up, raise your voice— to make yourself seem bigger like you’re encountering a bear on a woodland trail. Instead you shrink, finding yourself at home with something you never have before. You just stand and say nothing.

He kisses you quickly. “Bye. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say back, but the door has already closed behind him.

Being a woman is easy.

You can ask a guy to beat you up during sex, only to turn and show your bruises to a cop and you’re believed. Easily. Instantly.

Jimmy thinks it’s unfair that you and him did the same thing, and he was robbed of everything while you lost nothing. You have it so fucking easy: Curly’s dick in your mouth whenever you want it, cushy house, hot water. The type of things a woman like you takes for granted.

He sees the way you look at him. Someone who’s filth, someone who’s nothing, and someone who’s beneath you. He’s not beneath anyone, especially not a dumb slut. You’re the one on your knees scrubbing the floor, at the sink washing dishes, and raising a kid of all things. You’re a servant, no, a service to Curly. Jimmy wonders if you know that.

It’s even worse that it's so goddamn boring in this house. Seeing you walking back and forth past the living room with various cleaning items and Curly’s lacklustre TV subscription is his only entertainment.

He decides to take matters into his own hands. Jimmy follows you from behind, wondering if you can’t sense him or if you’re purposefully ignoring him, but he finds out pretty quickly that it’s the latter.

Curling a strong arm around you from behind, he grabs one of your tits, pulling you back into his chest. Are they the reason why Curly likes you so much?

Instantly, you go straighter than a stick, stuck in disbelief before you start to squirm. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You try and put up a good fight, but he’s got a tight grip on you— like a baby’s hand wrapped around your finger.

You elbow him in between the ribs and it almost gets him. Almost. Pain flares in his side, but he knows better than to give up now. “That wasn’t very nice. I was just curious if these were his favourite part.”

His other hand scoops up your chin, pressing the back of your head up against his throat. “Curly said to make myself at home, so surely you don’t mind.” Jimmy can feel your chest heaving, your breath wild. You’re a cornered animal, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Get off of me,” you say, your voice muffled, but you are too perfectly ensnared in his grip. Your words mean nothing when he’s kneading your flesh in his calloused hands, tugging up the hem of one of those stupid dresses you always wear. Another aspect of Curly’s barely hidden fetish, he’s sure.

Jimmy makes sure it hurts when he pushes in. He hopes you tear. That way you’ll lose what makes you important to Curly— the stepping stone to everything else falling apart for you.

You look over your shoulder at him and your expression is not one of fear or pain, but anger. You look livid, clipped nails digging into the carpet fibers as Jimmy shoves your face onto the floor.

But eventually you get wet as he opens you up, filling you in his favourite form of entertainment. Seeing you give up, seeing you enjoy getting used by his ‘filthy’ cock that you thought was below you.

You coat his dick in blood and cum when he pulls out of you, spilling over your ass in harsh white streaks. A ruined mess, your true colours have been revealed, the crimson muscle under your skin. You are just a woman, dumb and docile, nothing but what a man can make you.

And he leaves you there so he can go take another wonderful hot shower.

Lying beside Curly, you feel yourself break.

In the dim light of your bedroom, you have nothing to occupy your senses but your thoughts. And you have so, so many of them. Each one winds around your brain in a tortuous loop.

After Jimmy left you there, you didn’t know what to do. Your joints cried out, you sat up and just stared at a spot on the floor. The sound of the shower running filled your ears like an incessant buzz, it carried with you all day. And here it is now. This fog, this emptiness that you can’t shake.

You smooth your thumbs over your nails, worrying your lips till you taste blood. Never have you let yourself fall into your head like this, you feel shackled to that moment, forced to replay it over and over.

You shouldn’t be so absorbed in this. It was nothing. He’s just fucking bored. Letting this affect you, ruminating on this, it makes you no better than her.

For a short moment you debated calling Anya, to talk to her about it. You imagine picking up the phone and flat out telling her that Jimmy raped you— and what? What happens then? What could Anya— a dimwit who finally made it into med school through pity alone, do for you?

You wipe your eyes to try to hide the tears brewing there. This is all because of Jimmy. He has the nerve to do this under your household. You have Curly under your beck and call, you’ve assured yourself that that would be the case. This won’t slip through your fingers. You’ll get him kicked out, Jimmy failed to pass the terms.

You feel Curly’s arm wrap around your stomach, tugging you back into his chest. His warm breath fans over the nape of your neck, murmuring listlessly. “Why are you crying?”

Fuck, he noticed. You wipe with more insistence. You need to tell him. Sure you have no proof, but you can twist your words like you always do. Blame it on Curly, braid his heartstrings and play them to your favour. This will be easy.

“Jimmy, he… he…”

Fuck, you can’t speak. Why can’t you speak? This has never happened. Words usually come so easy to you, but right now they’re all crammed down your throat and you’re suffocating on them.

“I know you don’t like him,” Curly says, “but he’s my friend. I can’t just throw him out onto the streets, right?”

You stay silent. Right, of course, they’re friends. And how could Jimmy get off his feet, get a job— do any of that, when he has a criminal record? You should’ve never agreed to this. You should’ve said no. You are competing with a relationship that has stretched on longer than the time you’ve known Curly.

“You both need to learn how to get along,” Curly sighs, burying his face in your shoulder. “Get some sleep. Don’t think about this.”

You nod, more to yourself than him. Jimmy will get bored. This will end.

It will.

Why are you making excuses for him?

When Curly asks about the new bruise flowering on your side, you say you bumped into the counter. You don’t tell him that it was Jimmy. When Curly and Jimmy drink together in the living room after dinner, you spend it in your son’s room, fawning over him and making yourself sick.

There’s no telling when Jimmy will snap and you will become the subject of his entertainment for the hour– when he will split you open and call you filthy things that you are slowly being conditioned to like.

You feel like a hostage in your own house. Your son’s room has become your only safety. No longer do you feel self-assured, confident, and capable, rather, you feel as though you are nothing but a victim. That you are a compliant puppet to the men around you.

It needs to stop.

Today, Jimmy shoves his fingers down your throat and you lurch forward with a gag. His unclipped fingernails drag against your wet tongue and you feel your unimpressive breakfast rising up your throat.

And god, his fucking grin. It’s a show of malice and a couple of crooked teeth, the obvious reaction as he takes a victory lap with your subservience. Globs of thick saliva drag down from your lips and onto the floor.

He always fucks you when your son is sleeping and there’s enough time for your holes to return to normal for when Curly uses them the following evening. You feel so sapped of your energy. You don’t even fight or say much of anything anymore. You’ve lost.

You know what’s happening before you even feel it. He bends you onto the couch and slides his spit-soaked fingers against your ass. You prickle up, going rigid as he forces one finger past your pucker, then a second. Jimmy doesn’t actually care about prepping you and after a couple pumps he replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s the same sharp drag every time, although now it hurts twice as much. He must get off to it, seeing you in a crumpled, folded heap of holes. His hips smack against yours with ease.

He curls his body over you, looming like a shadow. The cushion beneath your face is wet with tears and drool. You feel like you’re suffocating— he doesn’t even moan. You’re not even doing a good job of whatever he wants from you.

Jimmy calls you a slut, a whore, and all of the other degrading names in the book. He’s sure to let you know what you are and once the slide of his dick starts feeling less like molten lava in your veins, you begin to moan along with it. You fucking hate yourself.

Then, the front door opens.

You didn’t tell Jimmy that Curly got off early today. You were hoping the sight of this would be enough to deter Curly from Jimmy, that’d it be enough to compel Curly to kick him out. If he won’t believe your words, you have the visual proof.

Jimmy doesn’t even look scared, much less worried. He tugs you up into his lap, your back against his chest and your vulnerable body bared to Curly’s gaze. You try to cover yourself, but it’s no use.

“Sweetheart… what?” He looks between you and Jimmy, his expression darkening.

“I didn’t— he made me–,” but Jimmy wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes so hard your eyes bulge out of your sockets. You flounder as Jimmy grinds his hips into you.

“She’s a glutton for it.” Jimmy’s voice feels far away, like you’re in some sort of corporeal third person. “You haven’t been fucking her right, huh?”

Curly’s lips form around a myriad of words he tries and fails to say. “I have been,” Curly says, his eyes wide in disbelief, reeling, “she went behind my back, with you?”

“Don’t blame me. She was begging me for it.” Jimmy can’t stop moving his hips. He can’t even take a break from fucking you just to talk.

“Please, no—,” you gasp. Curly’s eyes flit to yours and then down to your blushing cunt that's currently dripping slick down onto Jimmy’s balls. He can see the way your ass is stretched around his cock.

Curly’s so red you think he might overheat. One hand slips lower, not-so-discreetly adjusting his bulge as he stares at both you and Jimmy in heartbreak.

And Jimmy, being the gentleman he is, scoots forward on the couch, indirectly rocking up into you in a thrust that makes your eyes roll back. “Are you getting turned on by this?” Jimmy laughs, “then use her.”

Jimmy slides his sleazy fingers down and parts your sodden lips, showing it all off to Curly. The man averts his eyes like he’s never seen it before, as if he hasn’t dragged his tongue over every inch of your skin in his own form of worship.

“You like watching this? Fucking cuck.” Jimmy digs his thumb into your windpipe and you worry you might actually turn purple.

He curls in on himself like he’s intruding. “I can’t— not while you’re—”

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “She’s your wife. What, you don’t want her anymore?”

The patheticness that drew you to Curly is becoming a thing of annoyance to you. But for once, you agree with Jimmy— having Curly here with you might erase the pain of Jimmy’s lack of preparation. Curly would be gentle, he would be so good to you, same as he always is. You plead with him as best you can with your eyes. If you can’t rid yourself of Jimmy, at least you can make it better for yourself.

You watch as he reluctantly undoes his pants, tugging out that fat cock you love so much. Before you know it, he’s pressing the head to your cunt and pushing in. His eyes are on you and only you. You’re finally able to ignore the way Jimmy’s hip bones are digging into your ass.

Curly caresses your jaw with his fingers, watching carefully to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, because sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. It feels habitual, you can almost ignore everything else happening around you. You and him, just you and him.

“What are you fucking her so slow for?’ Jimmy plunges even deeper into you. “You think a slut like her deserves that?”

Curly’s eyes shoot away and then he’s staring at Jimmy, his brow furrowed in thought. It’s usually your job to tell him what to think— you would if you weren’t being stuffed and suffocated from every side.

He picks up speed. You’ve never had him at this pace before, and you’re stretched so full that your hands fly out for purchase, nails skating along Curly’s bicep.

He’s not even looking at you, the pretty tendons of his neck arched so he can look at Jimmy. Your husband fucks you with his careful instruction.

Jimmy bullies himself deeper and deeper. Curly follows suit, your hips all clash with the sloppy sound of your wet cunt and skin.

You squeeze around them both as your heart stammers with pure panic. Jimmy’s fingers are digging into your throat hard enough that spots are appearing in your vision. You tap his arm like he’s got you in a wrestling hold you can’t get out of— Jimmy makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat as he lets go.

Then he slaps you.

Curly winces like Jimmy hit him too, but he doesn’t say anything. The strike burns against your skin. You’re not even given a moment to process before Jimmy’s pistoning right back in.

You’re so wet that it’s all you can hear— maybe wetter now. Your head tips back to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder and you try to catch Curly’s eyes with your own.

“Grant, Grant—,” your nails dig into his biceps to get his attention. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, spreading you open, and Jimmy’s rubbing your clit like he couldn’t care less about it, missing it half the time.

Curly glances down at you, fleeting. “Yeah, what is it, baby?” His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows curling upwards as he continues to fuck into you.

Your body shakes with each thrust, neither of them are letting up. “Slow down, please.”

“You’re gonna listen to her?” is Jimmy’s immediate response, “thought you were the man of the house.”

A multitude of expressions lilt over Curly’s face until there is a sudden understanding. One of their many secret conversations, you suppose.

Then Curly matches Jimmy’s pace and you feel like you can’t breathe, blackened tears streaming down your face. At least he has the decency to actually rub your clit. Your hips squirm as you try and fail to wrench yourself away from the overstimulation.

He keeps hitting that spot in you over and over again, their cocks meeting inside you with each belligerent thrust. Jimmy’s fingers dig into your waist, his teeth caught on your earlobe as he says the most demeaning things he can come up with, making you whine and squeeze tighter around them both, walls fluttering and a pitiful ache in your stomach.

Then there’s this sudden anger. At yourself, mostly. Curly doesn’t have the backbone to stand up for himself, much less you. That’s why this is your fault. You let it get out of control and you’ve let yourself get conditioned to enjoy being defiled.

You’d only had one plan when you learned about Pony Express terminating its employees— secure your future. That future was Curly’s baby in your belly, being well off under his roof. You were willing to take on every responsibility that came with it if it meant a good life for you and your family. But now you’ve clawed yourself out of a gaping pit just to dive headfirst into another.

Jimmy was the variable that ripped that all to shreds. Him and Curly have something, something that goes beneath their skin, that they share in small glances when you slip up, a camaraderie, one that has spanned longer than you’ve known either of them and has only grown further now.

And then the worst happens.

Jimmy wraps one slender hand around the back of Curly’s neck, tugs him down, and then he’s kissing him. Curly’s eyes fall closed and he makes a keening noise so deep in the back of his throat that you wonder if it’s innate. Jimmy just looks at you, eyes wide open, unable to fight his grin as Curly slots lips with him like an obedient dog.

Your chest sinks even deeper into that pitfall, you can only watch, staring as Curly pulls away, a string of saliva between both their lips. And Curly has never looked at you like that. Yes, his eyes have welled up with admiration and reverence, and he has said just as much to you, but it’s never been this. Like he’ll die if your lips never meet again.

Curly glances at you, and it’s like he’s asking for permission, like you’re some sort of spectator when they’re both fucking you. You can’t believe him, you can’t believe this is happening right now. It’s not fair.

And before you can protest, before the rage can spark in your chest and burst into flames, Curly’s thumb catches your clit just right and you’re cumming.

You’re dragging them both in deep, half-crying out as your orgasm grows spots in your vision. It’s dizzying, all-consuming, and you’re half worried you might pass out.

Curly sucks in a sharp breath and he blows his load right after, Jimmy following too. No one pulls out, you all lay there, catching your breath. There’s a thin layer of sweat on your skin, your bodies all feel sticky as they’re pressed together.

Curly does what he always does, ducking his head to rest his forehead against yours and murmuring praises. He pecks your lips, but all you can feel and taste is Jimmy.

It makes you sick.

The following few weeks are a blur. You become what you’re meant to be, what you’ve been fighting— a shell of your former self. Looking back at the power you once held on the Tulpar, where you were free of the systems of Earth, you should’ve known that their return would throw everything off-kilter.

The white walls of the bathroom grow suffocating. The first time you did this on the Tulpar, there was buzzing excitement thrumming through your veins. You wanted it so badly. It was all you could think about. Every time you and Curly locked eyes, you had envisioned it all, what his reaction would be, the first thing he’d say.

But now? You stare blankly at the positive pregnancy test, an obvious result of yours and Jimmy’s and Curly’s ongoing entanglement. You’re numb more than anything. It was going to happen and so it happened, simple as that.

Though a tiny question tugs at you, somewhere in the recesses of your foggy mind— a curiosity that you don’t want the answer to knowing either option is now equally just as horrible to you.

Who’s the father?

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly x reader #curly x reader smut #captain curly x reader #jimmy x reader #mouthwashing jimmy x reader #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #jimcurly #jimmy x curly #jimmy x reader smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing jimmy #🕸️—writing

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tubatwo · 2 months ago

Text

once more to see you - huening kai

summary: where meeting TXT Bank’s new intern makes y/n come up with any excuse to see him

pairing: gn reader x huening kai

genre: fluff; 2.1k words

a/n: I don’t even know what this bank thing is for yet I just saw this pic and immediately had to write. also this is literally not how bank visits go but LMAO. aren’t silly stories just perfect!!! nothing makes sense!!!

working in food service in one of the busiest cities meant that each night would end in tips galore. thankfully, your regular checks were enough to pay the bills, so you usually stuck with depositing cash tips at least once a month.

this was a regular routine that worked for you. walk into TXT Bank, talk to the strict bankteller whose name was apparently taehyun, show your ID, hand money over, boom. done.

but one day, this routine ended up falling apart. you walked in, and instead of taehyun, you were met with the face of the adorable new intern.

kai was deeply focused on the computer in front of him, desperately trying to figure out the client case taehyun showed him earlier. his cat-like manager’s instructions kinda went in one ear and out of the other, so it was crucial to figure things out as soon as possible if he wanted to secure his full-time position. that is, until he noticed your figure approaching with his peripheral vision.

the two of you locked eyes, eyes sparkling as if you each had just spotted an adorable puppy. kai’s cheeks grew red and your ears started to feel hot as you walked closer to him.

“hi, excuse me? i’m here to deposit cash to one of my accounts.” you look down and start to play with the zipper of the bag holding your tips, the eye contact from before making you overwhelmed as your brain practically malfunctions. where the hell is taehyun? and did he have to leave someone so cute in charge?

kai clears his throat before putting on his best customer service voice, “of course! i’d be more than happy to help you, ma’am.”

you look up and see his name tag: ‘KAI HUENING - INTERN’ the word ‘intern’ snapping you out of your temporary trance from before.

“oh um, is this the right desk? i noticed your tag says intern…” the furrow of your brows and confusion all over your face makes it near impossible for kai to hold back his smile as he responds. “no worries! i’m in the midst of receiving a full-time position here. i may be an intern, but i can assure you that i’m approved to work on deposits. we’re just a bit short-staffed at the moment.”

kai’s warm, gentle gaze washes over you, so much that even if he was straight up lying, you wouldn’t even blink an eye. his brown eyes were slightly hidden by the strands of hair falling over his face, which also happened to be decorated with soft moles all around. his mullet-like haircut also complimented his button-up, making him look like the lead singer of an old pop-rock band.

“ma’am?” kai’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you flinch a little. “oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

you wave your hands and apologize, “i’m sorry! i suppose i started drifting off a bit. here is everything you need.” you pull your ID and the cash out of your pouch, handing it to the intern and trying to calm your heart after your fingers brush against each other. after everything is finalized, kai hands your ID back to you. “alright, everything is set!”

you look at his nametag once again, “thank you um… kai?, i really appreciate it.” kai’s cheeks grow red again at your voice saying his name so sweetly. he chuckles nervously and scratches his head. “yep, that’s me! well, did you need anything else?”

you try to rack your brain for any possible thing that could extend your stay, but nothing comes to mind. “no, that’s all! thank you again.” you say, slightly disappointed. kai smiles. “it was my pleasure, make sure to visit us again!”

and you did. many times. like waaaay too many times.

after meeting kai, you couldn’t help but want to see him more. your usual monthly trips to the bank turned into weekly, and then almost daily. every time you collected your tips for the night, you made sure to visit the bank again in the morning.

as you visit more frequently, you and kai’s interactions start to become playful, and you become a bit more closer. you both still get shy as you lock eyes, but jokes are often thrown in here and there. kai found himself taking extra time to count your money when you came in, desperate trying to hold onto every second of your presence.

“hey!” you try to hold in your laugh, “as the intern, shouldn’t you be learning to count faster not slower?” you joke. kai’s hearty laugh fills the room before he pretends to look offended. “excuse me? it’s only natural that I get a little distracted when a pretty person enters the room”. his words make your entire body grow warm, and you can’t help but try to shift the focus away from you. “o-oh? I don’t think that line was part of your training.” you giggle.

kai giggles with you before thinking of a rebuttal, “you’re right actually. our handbook specifically says to not flirt with customers... buuut i’ve never been great with remembering the rules.”

“well, if you’re gonna be a bankteller then you should probably start studying before you end up in jail for fraud or something.”

the two of you burst out laughing, failing miserably when it comes to keeping quiet. you let out a few giggles again before you’re left in a comfortable silence. “I guess you got me there, but seriously y/n, i’m happy I can always help you.”

after a few months of visiting kai (and seeing the bank more than your own family), you wake up one day to head over before realizing that you don’t have any tips to deposit. “shit.” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes in frustration. you had the day off yesterday and don’t go back to work until tomorrow. you were left with a completely free day to do whatever you wanted.

any normal person would have taken the chance to relax, maybe get some chores done, even some shopping? but the only thing you cared about was hearing kai’s laugh again. there had to be more reasons to visit the bank, right? yeah! you could come up with something…

after cleaning yourself up and getting ready, you felt slightly embarrassed at how much effort you put into your appearance. were you trying too hard? would kai get the wrong idea and think you were meeting with someone? by the time you had answered your own questions, you were already at the front door of the building. you took a deep breath and headed inside, expecting brown eyes to meet yours again.

well, they did. but they weren’t the ones you were looking for.

“how can I help you?” kang taehyun asks after seeing you walk in. his eyes go back to his computer, and he begins typing something up. you’re so caught off guard that you can’t even come up with a response. you already didn’t know what to come here for, and now that taehyun is in front of you, you feel stupid for even showing up.

“I want to… um…” you trail off, causing taehyun to pause his work and stare at you, waiting for an answer. you look around nervously before quicking spewing out, “open a bank account! yes! I um, want to open a new account.”

taehyun goes back to type some things into his computer. “ID?”

“huh?”

“ID. I need your ID to confirm your identity, ma’am.”

you suddenly realize what you’re doing and awkwardly feel around in your purse, looking for your wallet.

well shit.

“s-sorry, it’s uh… it’s gotta be in here somewhere.” you stall. as taehyun pinches the bridge of his eyebrows, a familiar figure exits from one of the staff rooms.

“hey taehyu-” kai notices you in front of him, a worried look etched across your face as you dig through your bag. taehyun motions kai over, “come watch, kai. you can see how we deal with customers who clearly show up unprepared.”

kai’s voice and the mention of his name immediately make your head shoot up. you look at him embarrassed, desperately wishing you could go back in time to when you were still in your bed. you feel frozen as the two men stare at you, waiting for you to do something.

“hey,” kai reaches out to lightly touch your arm, “are you okay? do you need help?”

you brush him off, not wanting to worry him. “no, i’m okay hyuka, i’m sorry.”

before kai could react to you apologizing to him (for what seemed like no reason), taehyun eyes the two of you suspiciously. “do you two know each other?” he asks. kai looks over and nods before speaking, “yeah, we’re uh… friends…?” he looks over at you with a mix of hope and hesitation in his eyes, not sure if you felt the same way.

“oh!” your eyes widen, “yes! we’re friends. i’m sorry, i’m just so used to running into him here now.”

kai feels relieved hearing you agree, and his heart beats faster at the thought of being somewhat of a constant in your life, even if it’s just to deposit cash into a bank account. he quickly brushes off his thoughts before coming to your defense. “see? everything’s okay. they’re just a regular customer, that’s all. you don’t have to scare them to death.” he jokes.

“no! it’s my fault,” you admit, “I don’t need to do anything actually… I even forgot my ID on the way here, i’m really sorry for bothering you guys.”

kai looks at you confused. he doesn’t know why you keep apologizing, and he really doesn’t know why you showed up if you didn’t have any requests to make. taehyun, however, is able to read between the lines. “i’ll leave the two of you alone.”

kai doesn’t even glance at taehyun as he walks off. his only focus is you and making sure that you’re okay in this moment. “you’re never bothering us, but is something wrong? what’s the matter?”

you let out a deep breath and decide to be brave. you can do it. just tell him. if nothing works out, you can always just deposit in the future through an ATM or something…or maybe get a new bank.

“okay well, this is super embarrassing but I didn’t have a reason to visit today, kai,” you pause, looking him in the eyes, “I just really wanted to see you...” you trail off, feeling even more embarrassed than you did before.

kai laughs softly at this while you continue to ramble, “which technically is a reason! y’know?”, he takes your hands in his, causing your brain to malfunction like the first time you ever saw him.

“did you really come all the way for me? even without needing a deposit?”

you laugh to yourself and how lame the two of you sound, probably something straight out of a nerd fantasy book. “yeah, even without the deposit.” you smile, squeezing his hands lightly. kai blushes and smiles to himself, trying to come up with a joke to mask his sudden shyness. “are you sure it was worth it? i mean, taehyun’s pretty scary.”

you smile and nod your head, “you’re here in front of me, right? i’d say it was pretty worth it.” you and kai both look around the building only to find that there’s no one else here. just the two of you.

you look back at each other, eyes drifting down to each other’s lips as you gravitate closer. before your lips meet, kai whispers.

“can I kiss you?”

you nod and press your lips against his. one of his hands come up to hold your cheek as if it were made of glass, and you allow your arms to wrap around his waist. as the kiss continues, you chuckle, making him pull away, wanting to see your smile once more.

“can I take you on a date? after I get off of work?” he asks, lips suddenly feeling cold after pulling away. “I would love that, kai.” you smile as you hug him. “it’s a date then! I promise i’ll finish work as fast as I can.”

“oh, no you won’t, I need you to focus instead of rushing.” a certain voice interrupts the two of you.

you look over to see taehyun smirking with his arms folded, almost as if he was silently taking credit for getting the two of you together. kai rolls his eyes playfully at taehyun, “yeah, yeah, I didn’t mean it literally!”

taehyun looks over at you with an apologetic look in his eyes. “i’m sorry for my bluntness earlier. it gets pretty stressful around here, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on a regular customer. I don’t know how kai keeps his composure sometimes.”

“I get to see y/n almost every day, how could I not love every second of it?

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jlheon · 10 months ago

Text

౨ৎ — hair dye (sjy)

pairing. bf! sim jaeyun x fem! reader synopsis. you and jake decide to get matching hair colors genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1241 notes. if jake goes red maybe i will too! library.

you were a force to reckon with. once you started dating jake, both of you paired together made for many impulsive late-night decisions.

just as tonight did.

it was nearly 2 am when you had sat up from bed with a ‘brilliant’ idea.

you and jake were not sleeping yet, the sunset lamp you purchased was still on to illuminate the room.

you had brought it over since you spent more time at jake's house than at your apartment.

you two mindlessly scrolled on your phones, enjoying the comfortable silence.

“baby why are you up?” jake mumbled, his arm locking around your waist to bring you back to his chest.

“you would do anything for me right?” you asked, looking down at him and brushing some hair strands off his forehead.

“of course,” he sat up next to you, taking your smaller hand in his. “where is this coming from?” his eyes shone with slight worry.

“would you dye your hair to match with me?”

and that is all it took for you and jake to get in the car and drive to the nearest hair supply store. for some reason, your hair supply store was thankfully open when you arrived.

letting out an exhale in relief as you and jake came up upon the ‘OPEN’ light sign, he opened the door and ushered you in first. mostly because neither of you even considered checking if the place was open.

“hi ____! nice to see you and..?” liz, the cashier, greeted.

she had known you as a frequent customer due to your tendency to get bored of your hair quickly.

“hi liz! this my boyfriend jake! we’re looking for some red hair dye enough for the both of us.” you explained, tugging him along when liz led you down an aisle.

“this should be enough!” she handed you a large bottle of developer, which jake quickly took off your hands.

the three of you walked towards the checkout to get ringed up. before liz even finished scanning all your items jake had already taken his silly minion card out to pay.

“ikeu it was my idea, you should have let me pay.” you huffed, settling into the passenger’s seat while he made sure you were buckled properly.

you had no idea when he started checking your seatbelt but he had been insistent ever since he started.

you told him multiple times you could buckle yourself but he said it made him feel more at ease. so who were you to oppose?

“you know that as long as i have money i’ll never let you pay baby,” he said, turning on the car engine, and driving back towards his apartment.

when you reached his building the sky decided to downpour.

making jake run to the passenger’s side to get you so he could wrap the both of you in his jacket and make a run for it.

once you had made it inside you both were completely drenched. sharing many giggles in the elevator, due to you calling him a puppy after a bath. he was just so cute.

unlocking his door he got himself changed into a new set of clothes and got you one of his old t-shirts to change into. picking shirts he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. grabbing some towels from the bathroom so you could start your hair dye escapade.

you sat on the bathroom counter, jake standing between your legs, putting the red dye all over his hair.

you made sure to wear gloves as you had an afternoon lecture the next day and didn’t want it to look like you killed elmo.

jake basked in the fact you were continuously carding your fingers through his hair.

sliding off the countertop when you finished his hair, you kept your gloves on. letting him help you do the back of your head while you handled the front.

he purposely got some on your neck, the coolness of the dye making you shake. in spite, you reached up to put some on his ears.

the acoustics of the bathroom amplifying your shared giggles, which you tried to lessen due to sunghoon being asleep in the room next door.

the soft sounds of your playlist filled the room while you both sat on the bathroom floor with a 30-minute timer for the dye to set in.

the alarm on your phone started to vibrate, signaling it was time to wash your hair.

since you had did your boyfriend's hair first he had to wash his out first. you put on another pair of gloves and had jake lean over the bathtub so you could rinse out the product.

the water from the faucet turned a bright red once hitting jake's hair. you used shampoo and conditioner to make sure jake wouldn’t sleep without the soft hair you loved to play with.

after you checked his hair was fully washed, you had him dry it with a towel as a hairdryer would most definitely disturb sunghoon’s slumber.

you had laughed once you switched places, jake now washing your hair, since he forgot to wear gloves his hands quickly turned a bright shade of red.

he didn’t even bother correcting his mistake, not minding the staining that would last for a couple of days at least.

as both of you dried your hair in front of the mirror you admired your matching hair.

smiling at how quickly he agreed to do his hair just for you.

he saw you grinning at him in the mirror and leaned down to kiss all over your face, rambling on about how the red suits you perfectly.

brushing your teeth and cleaning up the mess of hair products around his bathroom, you both finally headed to bed.

jake slipping into the spot next to you, engulfing you into a hug and intertwining his legs with yours.

by now it was nearly 6 am the sun was starting to peek out.

despite the sunlight creeping into the room through the cracks in the curtains, you both were knocked out like lights.

at around 9 am sunghoon waltzed into jake’s bedroom ready to ask him if he and you wanted anything for breakfast.

only to be met with a lump of blankets and red-stained hands peeking out from under the covers.

“OH MY GOD JAKE WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!” sunghoon shrieked, ripping the blankets off of you both.

triggering you both to tiredly groan. trying to return to sleep, you buried your head in the crook of jake’s neck, letting him deal with sunghoon alone.

“take a look at our hair hoon,” he rasped out.

“oh i see…” sunghoon lied. “it’s..?” waiting for someone to finish his sentence.

“it’s red hoon.” you deadpanned, shooing him to get out.

“OH! looks awesome guys! when did you do it?”

“at 2 am, now get out.”

“you are so cranky jake,” sunghoon pouted. “i guess i’ll only get ____ breakfast on my way back from class.”

“no please hoon i am so hungry..” jake pleaded.

“all you get is a slice of untoasted toast.”

“isn’t that just bread?”

“he will take whatever you give him just let me go back to sleep oh my god.” you groaned, flipping over.

“goodnight baby,” jake said, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you.

“it’s morning,” sunghoon commented.

“get out hoon.”

“finee,” he sulked, closing the door behind him.

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clockwayswrites · 11 months ago

Text

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

#dp x dc #past Danny/Sam #masked #death defying

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songbirdseung · 6 months ago

Text

ethereal / sim jaeyun

where sim jaeyun and you are enemies that were set up by each of your friends. genre enemies to lovers warnings stuck in a room, kisses

You couldn’t remember when it started—maybe it was in freshman year when Jake Sim accidentally spilled coffee on your notes, or perhaps it was when you both ran for class president and Jake won by a single vote. Whatever the cause, one thing was clear: you and Jake couldn’t stand each other.

Your friends knew it too. Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin had witnessed countless arguments, side-eye glances, and sarcastic comments exchanged between you and Jake. At first, it was amusing, but as time went on, your friends began to grow tired of the constant tension.

One Saturday afternoon, after another heated exchange during a study group session, Jay finally had enough.

“Okay, this has to stop,” Jay announced, slamming his textbook shut. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but it’s getting out of hand.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Tell that to Jake. He’s the one who keeps picking fights.”

“Me?” Jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re the one who always has something to say about everything I do.”

Ryujin sighed, glancing between the two of you. “Seriously, guys. We’re all friends here. Can’t you just… try to get along?”

You and Jake exchanged skeptical looks but didn’t respond. The thought of being civil with him seemed impossible.

Heeseung, always the peacemaker, decided to step in. “You know, maybe what you two need is some time alone to talk things out. Without an audience.”

You frowned, suspicion creeping into your mind. “What are you suggesting?”

“Just hear me out,” Heeseung said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Maybe you two could clear the air if you had some uninterrupted time together. We could, I don’t know, lock you in a room until you work things out.”

You laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Yeah, right. Like that’s going to solve anything.”

But Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement forming between them.

The following weekend, your friends invited you over to Jay’s house for what they claimed was a movie night. You were hesitant at first, knowing Jake would be there, but Ryujin convinced you, saying it would be a good distraction after a stressful week.

When you arrived, everything seemed normal enough. The group was gathered in the living room, snacks were laid out, and a movie was queued up on the TV. Jake was there too, sitting on the opposite side of the room, thankfully not paying much attention to you.

“Hey, YN! Glad you could make it,” Jay greeted you with a grin. He seemed oddly excited, but you didn’t think much of it.

As the night went on, you began to relax, almost forgetting about your animosity towards Jake. That is, until Jay suddenly suggested a change of plans.

“Hey, why don’t we all play a game instead?” Jay suggested, turning off the TV.

“A game?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of game?”

Heeseung smirked. “Oh, you’ll see.”

Before you could protest, Ryujin and Yujin grabbed your arms, practically dragging you down the hallway toward one of the rooms.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to pull away, but their grips were surprisingly strong.

“Just trust us, YN,” Ryujin said with a mischievous smile. “This is for your own good.”

When they opened the door to Jake’s room, you froze. “Wait, this is—”

But it was too late. They pushed you inside, and you stumbled into the room, only to find Jake already standing there, looking just as confused as you felt.

“What’s going on?” Jake demanded, turning to Jay, who was now blocking the doorway with a satisfied grin.

“We’re giving you two some quality time together,” Jay explained, clearly enjoying himself. “We won’t let you out until you’ve had a proper conversation.”

“Are you kidding me?” you and Jake said simultaneously, glancing at each other in disbelief.

But your friends were serious. Before you could argue further, they slammed the door shut, leaving you and Jake trapped together.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you stared at the closed door, hoping this was all just a bad joke.

But when the door didn’t reopen, reality set in. You were stuck here, with Jake, and there was no way out.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Great. Just great.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. “This is ridiculous. They can’t seriously expect us to just… talk things out.”

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Jake muttered, glancing around the room. “Might as well make the best of it.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his resigned tone. “Easy for you to say. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face you. “Oh, so now this is my fault? You’re the one who can’t let go of a grudge.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have a grudge if you weren’t so insufferable all the time,” you shot back, feeling your temper flare.

Jake took a step closer, his frustration evident. “You think I enjoy arguing with you? It’s not like you make it easy to get along.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat. The truth was, you didn’t know why you and Jake were always at odds. It had just become a habit, a routine that neither of you could break.

For a moment, you stood there, glaring at each other in silence. Then, as if the tension had reached its breaking point, you both let out a frustrated sigh at the same time.

“This is stupid,” Jake finally said, his tone softer. “We’re both stuck here, so we might as well talk.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. “Talk about what?”

“Anything,” Jake said, his expression unreadable. “Why we hate each other so much. What started all this.”

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to have that conversation. But as you looked at Jake, you realized that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did—tired of the constant fighting, of the endless cycle of animosity.

“Fine,” you said, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “Let’s talk.”

Jake followed suit, sitting on the edge of the bed, a safe distance away from you. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, both lost in your thoughts.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. “You remember that time in freshman year? When I spilled coffee on your notes?”

You frowned, nodding. “Of course. That was the start of everything.”

Jake shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. I mean, that’s when we started arguing, but the real reason we don’t get along… I think it goes deeper than that.”

You tilted your head, curious despite yourself. “What do you mean?”

Jake hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I think… we’re too similar. We both want to be the best at everything. We’re both stubborn, competitive, and neither of us likes to admit when we’re wrong.”

You stared at him, surprised by his insight. “You really think that’s why we’ve been fighting all this time?”

Jake nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. But it doesn’t have to be this way, YN. We don’t have to be enemies.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You had never really thought about it before, but now that Jake had said it, it made sense. Maybe the reason you and Jake clashed so much was because you were too much alike.

For the first time in a long time, you let your guard down. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Jake. I’m tired of it.”

Jake looked at you, something soft and unspoken passing between you. “Me too.”

The tension between you two had shifted, no longer filled with anger but something else—something that made your heart race in a different way. You realized that, despite everything, you didn’t actually hate Jake. In fact, there was something about him that drew you in, something you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself until now.

As you sat there in the silence of Jake’s room, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. It was as if everything had been leading up to this—every argument, every harsh word exchanged—all culminating in this strange, vulnerable space you now found yourselves in.

Jake shifted slightly closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “YN… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “The truth is, I never really hated you. I just didn’t know how to deal with… how I felt.”

You blinked, taken aback. “How you felt?”

Jake nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think… no, I know that I’ve always liked you, YN. But I didn’t know how to handle it

You stared at Jake, your mind racing to process his words. Liked you? It seemed impossible after everything you’d been through together—the constant bickering, the endless rivalry. But as you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity there, the vulnerability that he’d never shown before.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake smiled faintly, a bit of nervousness in his expression. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room was silent, the air thick with unspoken feelings. You felt your own walls start to crumble as Jake’s confession stirred something deep within you—something you had buried under layers of animosity and denial.

“Jake,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “maybe… maybe I’ve been fighting with you for so long because I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings either.”

Jake’s eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in his gaze. “You mean…?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I think I’ve liked you too, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was easier to just… hate you, or pretend to.”

A heavy silence settled between you, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable tension that had defined your relationship for so long. Instead, it was a moment of understanding, of realizing that all the years of fighting had been a way to mask the deeper feelings you both had for each other.

Jake reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours. “So… where does that leave us?”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t expected. “Maybe it’s time we stop fighting and see what happens when we stop pretending.”

Jake’s smile grew, a mix of relief and happiness that made your heart flutter. “I’d like that.”

Without thinking, you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you. Jake’s breath hitched slightly as your lips hovered just inches from his, the tension in the air shifting into something electric, something that had been building between you for far too long.

Finally, as if the last barrier between you crumbled away, you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It was nothing like the heated arguments you were used to—instead, it was gentle, full of the emotions you had both kept hidden for so long.

The kiss deepened as you both let go of the years of animosity, allowing yourselves to feel the connection that had always been there, buried beneath the surface. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, but there was a new lightness in the air, a sense of something new and hopeful between you.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his voice soft and full of affection. “I’m glad we finally stopped pretending.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that you had never associated with Jake before. “Me too.”

When the door to Jake’s room finally opened, and your friends peeked in, you were both sitting on the bed, hands still intertwined. The tension that had always accompanied your interactions was gone, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.

Jay, Heeseung, Ryujin, and Yujin exchanged knowing smiles as they took in the scene.

“Looks like our plan worked,” Ryujin said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “You guys are the worst.”

“But you’re welcome,” Heeseung added with a wink.

Jake chuckled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, thanks for the push, I guess.”

As your friends joined you in the room, the atmosphere was light and teasing, a stark contrast to the tension that had always surrounded you and Jake. The shift in your relationship felt natural, as if you had simply taken the first step into something that had been there all along.

Later that night, as you walked home with Jake, the two of you talked about everything and nothing—about the years you had spent arguing, about the relief of finally admitting your feelings, and about what the future might hold for you both.

When you reached your door, Jake hesitated, a shy smile playing on his lips. “So, does this mean we’re done being enemies?”

You grinned, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Definitely. I think I like being more than that.”

Jake laughed, pulling you close for a longer, sweeter kiss. “I think I like that too.”

As you said goodnight and watched Jake walk away, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. The animosity that had once defined your relationship was gone, replaced by something new and infinitely better.

And for the first time in a long time, you were excited to see what the future held for you and Jake.

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awrkive · 21 days ago

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i’m so happy you hit a new milestone!!! 💕 so for the game:

fluff + 24 + yoongi

24. "Hey cutie, are you single?" "We've been dating for a year."

wc: 0.7k

You go straight to your table when you come back from the bathroom, and you don’t think of anything else until you see the man of your dreams with his long hair, white long sleeved, and black pants; a glass of alcohol dangling in his hand, and him laid back on the couch comfortably – sexily – looking around.

Your lips curl mischievously.

Your legs make their way to his direction, and when you get near and in his sight, you make sure to arch your back in that unnecessary, sultry way to show off the way the back of your dress hangs low, exposing a wide span of skin – just to make sure he sees it when you walk past and settle down beside him.

You turn to his direction, saying, “Hey, stranger. Alone?”

He stares at you, then arches a brow. “No.”

You look right back at him and you end up in a staring contest for a while until you glare at him.

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

You whine, breaking character. “Play along.”

He just hums.

Trusting that, you fix your hair and your dress again. Clearing your throat, you raise your brow at Yoongi just to make sure he’s gonna carry through this time. When he makes that gesture of pursing his lips slightly and subtly nodding, you lean closer to him, whispering, “Hey cutie, are you single?”

He's quiet for awhile until...

“We’ve been dating for a year.”

You pull away from him. “I hate you.”

Yoongi breaks into a laugh. He sets his whiskey down the table and pulls you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist, chuckling to himself when you huff.

“Hon, you need to stop watching tiktoks.”

“That wasn’t a tiktok!” You defend, pointing at him. “You can’t even play along with me for just a minute.”

“It’s silly.”

You gasp. “You can’t be silly with your girlfriend?”

He laughs again, incredulous at your accusation. But he gives in, anyway, just like he always does. “Alright, fine, fine. Let’s try again.”

You roll your eyes but there's an unbreakable smile on your face. You peel Yoongi’s hand away from you and he reluctantly acquiesces, settling himself back comfortably on his seat so you can do your thing again.

“Hi there, handsome,” You look at him under your lashes, leaning closer again so you can duck down and he sees your magnificent cleavage. It’s effective because you see how that catches his eyes – if by the way they instantly go from your face down to your chest was anything to go by.

You smirk.

Yoongi pretends to be clueless.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

That makes your brow arch.

“Wanna let me get you a drink?” you say, looking down at his glass that’s running out.

Yoongi leans back, hums. “Sure.” He leans to the side a little then hands you his… “Let me pay for it, though.”

“Yoongi, you’re really not good at this.” You sigh, frowning at his stupid wallet and the stupid black card he takes out of it.

“I would let you buy me a drink but are you sure you brought a wallet in that tiny purse of yours?” Your boyfriend looks at your sparkly Cult Gaia mini bag, and when you pout, he chuckles. “Exactly.”

Yoongi watches as you stand up from the couch, opting to take free reign on your favorite seat instead: his lap. He's quick to welcome you in, automatically has his hands wrapped your waist when you plop down on him.

Leaning your back on his chest, you say into his ear, “Can I just be your sugar baby, then?”

He looks down at you then shrugs. “You’re my baby. But, okay, sure.”

You giggle, giddy at the quick retaliation but also because your boyfriend can be so bad and so good at flirting at the same time and there’s literally no in between.

“Okay, daddy.”

“Oh, we’re doing that later?”

“Yoongi!” You slap him on his bicep, looking around to check if anybody heard but thankfully no one gives a fuck. You laugh as you hide your face in his neck with Yoongi smirking, please at himself. “God, you think you’re so clever.”

“Uh-huh," he kisses your cheek when you peel your face away from his neck. "I love you.”

You roll your eyes in amusement and chuckle when he puts his hand over your thigh, pinches it slightly and goes right back to drinking and talking with you some more.

#yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #p; drabbles #p; drabble requests

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mygnolia · 6 months ago

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CALCU-CRUSH! ♡ 04. holding hands in rugby stands

୨୧ SMAU! SYNOPSIS -› Yeah, Park Sunghoon might be just a little annoying- but hey! at least he can help you get an A in AP CALC, and he will never a crush on you to make things super weird and complicated, right? [1.3k WORDS]

If there’s two things your tutor is good at, it’s bring punctual, and teaching you trigonometry.

Sunghoon texts you after your last class, keeping his word. He meets you in the library, and thankfully, despite how busy it gets, Sunghoon finds a small and secluded table for the two of you. You find him scrolling on his phone, with his notebook out, before you clear your throat and pull the chair in front of him. When he puts his phone away and gathers a few materials from his bag, you take it as a sign to mirror his actions, pulling the dreaded red paper from your backpack with a look of shame.

“If you would’ve told be this paper came from ___ ___, I wouldn’t believe you.” He chuckles, scanning over the pages. So much red. “What were you even doing during class? Our APUSH report??” He gawks, and it sets off a defensive flare as well as your embarrassment.

“We all make mistakes.” You try to reason in defense.

“I’m just messing with you, ____.” Sunghoon sighs, adjusting his chair to lean over and assessing the questions with you.

Sunghoon’s hair falls into his eyes when he works, and he has the habit of shaking it out or combing it back every few minutes as he begins to review the chapter you two were on, and you smile as you watch him try to tuck it behind his ears. He points out your mistakes carefully, and as much as you are paying attention to the hour he spends trying to show you how to do the first page, you catch the light scent of his fresh and floral fragrance the more you nod and scoot your chair closer. And when Sunghoon turns to you, you notice his lips, rosy and full as he licks them out of nervousness.

“Here,” he taps with his pencil, and your eyes follow to the paper where he’s written a problem out, which looks primarily composed of letters rather than numbers. But if anything, Sunghoon’s explanations are well thought out and full of reasoning and detail. You were only distracted by the proximity once. When you present him the answer, going over the steps, Sunghoon thoughtfully points out a section you made a minor mistake with, and smiles.

“I’m glad you’re catching on. Means I won’t have to do this for long.” He begins to close his books while you pout.

“I think after today, we’re great friends.” You say half sarcastically. “How’s your little project with Wonyoung going?” He shrugs, grabbing his bag to put on the table.

“I switched. Didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable or anything, and the teacher said I could.”

“You really aren’t going to try and woo her? Like- at all?” He shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Haven’t you heard of bro-code?”

Humming in agreement, you still press on. “Why did you even like her if you knew Jake did?”

“I was never expecting anything from it. I just wanted to get close because she’s also pretty smart- but also because Jake kept denying that anything was going on between them too, so I half wanted to be friends, and half wanted to see how much Jake really liked her since he’s dumb and doesn’t realize his feelings.” You snicker at his slight dig, but you get where Sunghoon is coming from. It’s good to know at least that he didn’t want anything serious, and knew when to back off.

“So you felt more adoration for her?” And he nods. “Do you think they’ll get together anytime soon?”

Sunghoon scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “The most they’d do is hold hands in those rugby stands after his games. He seems like he likes being around her, and whether that means they’re friends or more is up to them. Plus they both need each other. Jake is way too afraid to get a B in AP Language and Wonyoung is great at Literature.”

“You know those two are different right?” And he scowls at you, furrowing his eyebrows as he tightens the way he crosses his arms.

“Of course I know they’re different!” And you smile at his whining, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Okay, whatever. Can we can ice cream now like you said?”

“Only if you tell me everything.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “What else to I have to tell you?”

“The whole plan. The whole situation. If not, I won’t help you out on today’s worksheet.”

“I don’t need help on it,” You huff, standing up to grab your bag. It’s Sunghoon’s turn to question your confidence, considering how you two were texting during that period.

“Fine. But don’t come to me on Saturday with questions.”

You two both leave the library, taking the short walk to the convenience store to finally get some well deserved treats. When you both pick out your flavors, Sunghoon leads you both to a bench nearby as you sit with your backpacks and talk.

“So you’re okay with Jake talking to Wonyoung?”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “I’ve said this a million times.”

You move on. “The plan was to get you to try and have feelings for someone else, and then convinve Wonyoung she liked Jake.”

“So she knew I kind of liked her?”

You make a sound in half agreement and half denial, trying to figure out how to explain this part without sounding like a horrible person. “Well, we asked if she would ever be interested in you. Like, when you notice a girl and think, wow, my friend would like her.”

He scoffs, taking a bite of his ice cream. “We do not do that!”

You frown. “That’s beside the point. Let’s just say you did, okay?” And Sunghoon offers you an unconvincing nod. “Well, that’s how we got Wonyoung to confess she liked Jake. But at the time, we didn’t exactly know that Jake liked her too. We thought you liked her and your friends were just cheering you on. So we were super worried that because Wonyoung didn’t return your feelings, me and Karina would be the assholes for not telling you, and I’d be an even bigger asshole for trying to help you get closer. So operation ‘Look Lost in the Math Classrooms’ was made.”

Sunghoon laughs, shaking his head as he looks at you incredulously. “Who was I supposed to catch feelings for instead? Karina?”

You bit your lip, opting to bite a large chunk of the ice cream to buy time to think. “Not quite. That part I can’t exactly tell you.”

He whines, leaning back against the bench and throwing his stick into the trash can. “What?? Was it you, then?”

Yeah- there was no denying it at this point. You nod. “But it wasn’t like I wanted to! That’s emotional manipulation!”

“I’m glad you are a decent human being then.” He jokes, still not sure how to process everything. He feels a bit confused as to how adamantly you refused the idea of catching feelings for him, but drops it, not close enough to you to really think it over too much. But his leave is abrupt, and you don’t want him to think of you as a bad person at all.

“That’s why I told you, Sunghoon. Because I didn’t want you to have to stop liking Wonyoung without knowing the reason why.”

Sunghoon’s not really good at feelings, but he knows your explanation is honest, and he can appreciate it. And he tries to think about it again, seeing the holes in your plan and how it wouldn’t have worked.

“So operation ‘Look Lost in the Math Classrooms’ isn’t a thing, right?” And with the shakes of your head, Sunghoon trusts you this time. “Yeah, your plan was dumb anyways.”

You throw the wooden stick from your ice cream in his direction, and he shouts before avoiding your germs. “That’s gross!” He whines, and you can’t stop laughing at Park Sunghoon.

prev ♡ ml ♡ next

୨୧ REN SAYS... yippee written chapter yayy

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN! send an ask or dm to be added! @hanrinz @enhaslay @arep4con-qu3sp @realrintaro @jayhoonvroom @simpjay @i03jae @kpopshakespeare @footnote1206 @jakeyverse @tlnyjoong @charlizefaye @hearts4itoshi i @dorayakissu @enhypenlovre @cupidhoons @jayujus @coffeeprincejaehyun @ashtxrie @mumeimei @jakesaverse @heart4hees @haechology @sngleehee @jungwonnieee @seunghancore @mokangelic @nctislifue @river-demon-slayer @t1iqaa @hoonatic @illvding @enhaz1 @moons-v

୨୧ PERM. SMAU TAGLIST! send ask to be added! @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll

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cy-cyborg · 18 days ago

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Big vent about Centrelink and Australia’s welfare system ahead.

I’ve known for a long time how cold and uncaring Australia’s welfare system is, especially Centrelink, but I don’t think it really clicked until today.

Im on the disability support pension meaning the government acknowledges I can not work full time. A few years ago, I messed up on some forms and never declared to them that my partner and I were in a relationship. I had meant to, but had a moment and forgot to hand them in. By the time I realised my mistake it was years later. Just before Christmas I went in to fix it and to get help with the forms because I always panic when I do Centrelink forms, I always miss something or misunderstand, I always do something wrong, so this time I went in for help with it. My partner and my support worker came with me to help make sure I was understanding everything, and to make sure I remember what they told me, because I tend to forget more when stressed.

Because my partner is an immigrant and self employed but not earning much, the process actually ended up being a bit more complicated so we’ve had to go in to do the forms over multiple appointments with the last one being last Thursday.

I was informed that because I didn’t declare the relationship right away, I’ve been overpaid and I’ll have to give that overpay amount back because, fun fact, just being in a relationship is enough for them to cut your payments here - not being married, just in a relationship. I knew that though and was prepared for it. At the last appointment I was finally given an estimate of how much I need to pay back.

It’s over $20,000.

I’m not entirely sure how they got that number, I’m going to ask for a break down of it once the amount is confirmed, but you want to know what sucks? I was relieved to hear that amount. I was mentally prepared for it to be double or triple that, and it would have been if the worker at the office didn’t pull me up and inform me I’d misunderstood some of the questions (so yeah, going in for help was a good call). Thankfully, because the disability support pension is already below the poverty line even before the cuts they made, I don’t have to pay it back at once, they’ll take a percentage of my pension out every fortnight to pay it back. Unfortunately, because I’m already below the poverty line, reducing my pension even further means I can’t afford rent anymore, even in a place that is already way, WAY below the current rental market value, so I can’t really afford rent…anywhere. Not even in remote and regional areas (I checked). Not a single private rental in the country is low enough for us to afford now. The only ones that were close weren’t wheelchair accessible. The pension will also go down if my partner earns anything, and it limits his hours (though I don’t know how that’s supposed to work if he’s self employed since pay isn’t really based on hours like typical jobs, I’m going to ask about that at the next appointment). Thankfully we had already planned for that and we’re planning to move in with my mum, but that means basically being cut off from the internet since her place is very rural and signal doesn’t really reach their place consistently.

But the shittyness doesn’t end there, oh no.

Today, I woke up to the dreaded “you have a myGov message” text. Only to open it and for them to tell me that they’re cutting my whole disability pension, it was just canceled. No ifs or buts, it was just gone. A few days before rent and all my bills are due. What was the reason you ask? Because one of the fields (asking for my partner’s tax info) on the form wasn’t filled out… the form I got the Centrelink office to check over before handing it in, that was definitely filled in. I know it was. There wasn’t even any “we’re missing information, you have x amount of time to fix this or your payment will be cancelled” warning, it was just, you didn’t fill out this one field that could be easily fixed so your pension is canceled, and you have to pay us that $20,000 out of pocket now, bye!

Obviously rattled and confused, I went back to the office (which is only a few minutes from where I live) and asked what the hell happened, the lady who helped us last time even vouched for us and said she knows we filled that out and gave it to them, she was there, only for them to go into my file and realise the way the file had been scanned cut off part of the field, so the automated systems didn’t see it and auto-cancelled my whole pension over it. So we had to wait an additional half and hour for the office staff to argue with whoever was in charge of that decision, to let them fix it because as far as Centrelink was concerned the issue wasn’t negotiable. It did eventually get sorted, so I’m at least not loosing my pension and being forced to pay back the dept out of pocket.

My partner, before coming to Australia was in the US military, he describes his experience with them as being treated like “numbered cannon fodder” and his dealings with the VA as being treated like “a piece of dog shit on their shoes”. He fought with the Australian immigration department for years to be allowed to stay here, the department that openly and proudly discriminated against him and me for our disabilities, that insisted he jump through countless hoops for the most ridiculous of reasons to prove he “wouldn’t be a burden on the system”. But today he just sat in the car after all this and stared off into space, saying this is the worst treatment from a government agency he’s ever seen. They didn’t see us as people, we were numbers. That automated cancellation over an automated mistake would have put us on the street if my mother wasn’t in the picture and paying off $20,000 of dept out-of-pocket. And they just didn’t care. We made a mistake, yes, but it was a mistake that is in-line with the diagnostic criteria of one of my disabilities (forgetfulness from a brain injury) and we did everything we were supposed to do to make it right once I noticed. we fessed up and did what we needed to fix it, we got help from multiple staff members to ensure we did everything we were supposed to, but a machine made a mistake and nearly ruined our lives anyway.

Im not saying any of this to ask for money btw, I couldn’t accept it even if I wanted to because I’m pretty sure that would count as income too and would mean my pension would go down even more or just be cut (again) entirely. We’re safe and as stable as we could be in this situation for now. I just wanted to vent a bit and explain where I’ve been. I’m probably not going to be back online again for a bit while we get the rest of this situation sorted, and once I move to mum’s, so the messages and ask box are staying closed for a bit longer.

#disability #disabled #centrelink #marriage equality #auspol #vent #long post #dsp #disability support pension #disability services #disability pension

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therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

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Kinktober - Day 15 - Spanking

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Here is the Kinktober episode for the « spanking » prompt. And as you guys probably expect it, it is a continuation of the « Pet play » and « Kneeling » episodes. 👀

CW : D/S dynamic - BDSM - Spanking - Aftercare

That first weekend of Marshall « vetting » you as a sub turned out to be rather successful. By the end of it, you were absolutely drained and, though you would have expected it to be because of bedroom activities, it was not the case. The whole time had been about you getting familiar with his rules, learning more about what it meant to be a sub and his rules and expectations. And, as it turns out, there were a lot of things to remember and imprint in your brain.

Thankfully, he had been pretty patient with you, giving to time to adjust. You enjoyed the way submission turned off the noisy part of your brain, but it didn’t exactly come naturally to you. Neither did staying silent until being asked to speak. And your bad habit of running your mouth made it quite clear that you required a lot of explanations before following some rules. At the end of the first day, Marshall had ordered you to put your bag in the guest room, earning the biggest side eye from you. « I’m not sleeping in your room ? » you asked in a tone that failed to hide your disappointment. « You heard me » he simply hummed. However, the exhaustion of the day made it hard to follow the initial command of letting him be in charge. « But… why ? » you asked again with a frown. « Because I sleep better on my own » he sighed. « Not that I owe you an explanation. I’m in charge remember ? ». You nodded sheepishly but couldn’t resist asking yet another question. « Then why did you let me sleep with you last time ? » you asked with a raised eyebrow. He sighed again and rolled his eyes before getting up from the couch and facing you. « Y/N. I set the rules. That’s what I do. And last time was an exception. But the rule is still in place. » he said sternly. You nodded again. « Is sleeping in the same room that important to you ? » he finally asked. « I don’t know. I guess not » you shrugged. « It’s just… I figured that… you know. If we were to sleep together we’d actually sleep together too ? » you added. He looked at you and smiled before cupping your face. « You do realize it’s not only about sex, right ? I could very well be your dom in a totally platonic way. » he said calmly. You opened your eyes a little wider, thinking that maybe you had completely misread the situation and that the forms he’d asked you to fill regarding your bedroom preferences were a formality that didn’t mean anything. As soon as he saw the change of expression on your face, he chuckled. « Yeah, some of my plans include sex. But that’s not the core of what we’re doing. And after some sessions, you might actually want some space, too. A lot of subs do enjoy being able to unwind without their dom being around. » he added. You nodded one last time and went to settle in the guest bedroom.

The rest of the weekend proved him right : you actually enjoyed having a space you could claim as your own. You didn’t really have anyone you could compare him too, but you doubted Marshall could be described as a difficult dom. In fact, he was patient and, apparently, pretty lenient too. However, getting familiar with all those rules proved to be exhausting and you weren’t sure you’d be able to rest as much if you had to pay attention to your posture or anything else you were required to mind in his presence. That being said, he made sure to let you know he was there if you needed him. Especially after he fucked your brains out. He cuddled with you until you came to yourself and waited until you had regained some composure to ask if you needed him to stay longer. It was only after you sleepily shook your head and murmured a small « no, you can go, Sir » that he pressed a kiss to your forehead, praising you one last time and put his clothes back on before leaving you to rest.

Marshall was apparently quite satisfied with you and, before you went home, he suggested you come back the following weekend. Soon enough, a small routine was put in place : you spent most weekends at his place, in a D/S dynamic. The rest of the time, however, you were just friends. Especially when you were handing out in group settings. You quite liked it and it didn’t take long for you so develop some Pavlovian habits. On Friday evenings, when you showed up at his place, your brain was already in « sub mode », your inner noise quieting before you even reached the front door. And as weeks went by, you did a better job at following orders. You thought you were thriving. Until, a few weeks in, you arrived at his place in a bad mood. The last few days at work had been exhausting, your boss had been an ass and you were a ball of nerves and frustration.

It didn’t take long for Marshall to take note. You seemed unable to focus, failed to call him « Sir », asked him to repeat orders twice. He stared at you with concern but, whenever he asked what was up with you, you simply apologized and assured him that everything was alright. He was patient with you, though. At first, at least.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have rough days, and normally she found peace and comfort in your new dynamic. But tonight, something felt off. Every little thing seemed to grate on your nerves, and instead of the usual calm that Marshall’s presence brought, you felt like snapping. The first time you rolled your eyes at him, he let it slide with a warning. « Y/N, » he said in that low, controlled tone that always managed to get her attention. « Watch it. »

You had heard the warning, had even felt a flicker of guilt. But instead of responding with your usual obedience, the irritation bubbling just below the surface pushed you to defy him again. You rolled your eyes a second time, this time more deliberately, almost daring him to react. His gaze hardened, his voice dipping lower. « I’m not going to warn you again. » You should have stopped. You knew it. But something inside you rebelled against the authority in his voice, against the command in his eyes. Maybe it was the way the week had weighed on you, or maybe you were testing limits you hadn’t yet reached, but when he asked you to do something simple—hand him his phone from the coffee table—you rolled your eyes one more time as you did it.

The silence that followed was heavy, and in an instant, you knew you had gone too far. Marshall didn’t speak right away. He didn’t need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Your stomach tightened as you watched him stand from the couch, his full attention now fixed on you. Your heart started to race, the frustration that had driven your rebellion quickly giving way to something else—anticipation. You had never been punished before.

« Come here, »he said, his voice calm, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. You hesitated for a split second before obeying, stepping forward until you were standing directly in front of him. You didn’t meet his eyes this time, the weight of what was coming settling heavily in your chest. Your heart pounded as she realized the seriousness of your actions. Marshall stood tall, his posture firm, hands at his sides as he looked down at you. « What did I tell you about rolling your eyes at me? »You swallowed hard, your voice small. « Not to. »

« And how many times did I warn you? » he asked sternly. « Twice, » you answered, your voice barely a whisper now. Marshall nodded slowly, his expression unyielding. « Twice, » he repeated. « And you still chose to ignore me. » Your chest tightened. The defiance that had driven you earlier seemed to vanish, leaving behind a feeling of nervousness. You hadn’t expected to be pushed this far, hadn’t expected the punishment to feel so imminent. « I know you had a rough day, » he continued, his voice softer now but still firm. « But that doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me. » You felt your cheeks flush with guilt, your eyes dropping to the floor as the full weight of your actions sank in. You had crossed a line, and now you would face the consequences. « Go to the bedroom, » he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. « Undress and wait for me. »

Your stomach twisted at the command. The reality of what was about to happen settled over you, but you knew there was no point in resisting. This was part of the dynamic and you knew it. You had broken the rules, and now you would be held accountable. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned to leave the room. Your hands trembled slightly as you undressed in the bedroom, folding your clothes neatly and placing them on the chair. The room felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the nerves setting in. You knelt by the bed, your knees sinking into the soft carpet, your body tense as you waited for Marshall to come in.Your mind raced as you tried to steady your breathing. You trusted him completely, but this was uncharted territory for you. You had never been punished before. There had been reprimands, yes, but never something so formal—so intentional.

When the door finally opened, your heart skipped a beat. Marshall stepped into the room, his expression unreadable as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, letting the weight of the moment settle between you. He circled you slowly, his presence commanding the room in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and safe all at once. « Look at me, » he ordered. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were steady, focused, and there was no doubt that he was in control. « What happens when you disobey me, Y/N? » he asked, his voice even but firm. « I get punished, » you answered quietly, your voice shaking just a little. « That’s right, » he said, stepping closer. « And why are you being punished tonight? »

« Because I disrespected you, » you whispered, cheeks burning with shame as you spoke the words aloud. Marshall nodded, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek before he moved around you again. « I don’t punish you to hurt you, » he said, his voice calm and steady. « I do it to remind you of the structure, to keep you grounded. You need to know that when you push, there will be consequences. That’s how this works. » You nodded, your throat tight. « Yes, Sir. »

« Stand up, » he commanded, and you obeyed immediately, rising to your feet though your legs felt shaky beneath you. « Hands on the bed, » he instructed, his voice low but firm. « Knees apart. » Your heart pounded as you bent over, placing your hands on the mattress, your knees spreading as you positioned yourself the way he had asked. You felt vulnerable in the position, exposed, but you knew this was part of it—part of the process of learning, of submitting.

Marshall stood behind you, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. « This is going to hurt, » he warned. « But I need you to remember why it’s happening. » You braced yourself, nodding slightly as you whispered, « Yes, Sir. » The first smack landed on your bare skin, sharp and firm, sending a jolt of pain through you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to cry out, but the second strike followed soon after, and then the third. Each one was deliberate, measured, not too hard but enough to make you wince, enough to remind you of the line you had crossed. By the fifth strike, tears were welling in your eyes. It wasn’t just the physical sting—it was the emotional release, the overwhelming sense of guilt and submission flooding your senses.

Marshall paused, his hand resting gently on your back again. « You’re doing well, » he said softly, his voice soothing. « Just a little more. » You nodded, your voice too thick with emotion to respond, but you trusted him. You trusted him to know your limits, to guide you through this. When the final strike landed, a tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t feel broken. You felt relieved, grounded again in a way that only he could provide.

Marshall’s hands were gentle as he pulled you up into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. He held you tightly, his lips brushing the top of your head as he murmured softly, « It’s over now. » You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears flow freely as the last remnants of tension drained from your body. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as he reassured you with his presence, his touch. « You’re mine, » he whispered, his voice soft but filled with conviction. « I take care of you. Always. » You nodded against him, your heart finally at peace, knowing that you were safe in his hands, no matter how far you had pushed. Your breath was still shaky as you nestled into Marshall’s chest, the sting of the punishment still lingering on your skin. The tears that had slipped out were slowing, and though your body felt drained, your mind was beginning to clear. The chaos that had swirled inside you all week was gone, replaced with a sense of calm that only Marshall seemed able to bring you back to.

But even as your breathing steadied, you knew there was still more to come—more than just the punishment. There was the moment after, the moment when he would make sure you were okay, because that was just as much a part of this as anything else. Marshall held you close, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back as your tears began to subside. He hadn’t spoken yet, letting you come down from the emotional high in your own time. His warmth, his solid presence, was grounding you, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the safety of his embrace.

After a few moments, he shifted slightly, tilting your face up gently to meet his gaze. His eyes softened when they met yours, all the sternness from earlier replaced with concern and care. « You alright, Y/N? » he asked, his thumb brushing away the last tear that clung to your cheek. You nodded, though your throat still felt tight. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered, your voice hoarse from the emotions that had poured out of you. Marshall studied your face carefully, as though he was looking for any signs of lingering distress. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. « You did well, » he said softly. « You took that punishment exactly how you should have. But now, I need to know how you’re feeling. »

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch. You weren’t sure how to put everything you were feeling into words. The punishment had been hard—physically, yes—but more than that, it had been emotional. It had been your first real experience with punishment, and while it had stung, it also left you feeling lighter, like some of the tension that had been building inside you had finally been released. « I feel… better, » you admitted, your voice soft. « It hurt, but… I needed it. I didn’t realize how much I needed to let go until it happened. And… I guess it’s not as scary. » Marshall nodded, his fingers brushing gently through your hair. « Sometimes that’s how it is, » he said quietly. « Punishment isn’t just about consequences. It’s about helping you let go of what you’re holding onto. But I need you to know, —you don’t have to carry things on your own. When something’s bothering you, you come to me. That’s what I’m here for. Understood? »

You nodded again, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. It wasn’t just about the punishment. It was about the structure, the trust, and knowing that he was there to take care of you, even when you didn’t realize you needed it. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered.

Marshall’s hand moved down to your back, pulling you closer into his lap. He held you like that for a while, his touch soft and soothing, letting you come back to yourself in her own time, as he always did. The tension in your muscles slowly unwound as you breathed him in, his scent familiar and comforting.

« You’re not in trouble anymore, » he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. « It’s done. You’ve been forgiven. This is just about making sure you’re okay now. »

You let out a long breath, the last of the weight lifting from your chest. His words, simple as they were, meant a lot. Your connection was still there. You were not lost in your own head anymore—you were here, with him, and that was all that mattered. Marshall shifted again, this time tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. His thumb traced your lower lip as he spoke, his voice low and calm. « I want to make sure you’re not feeling any doubt about what happened. You know why I punished you, right? »

You nodded, your voice more steady now. « Yes, Sir. I disrespected you. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. Marshall gave a small nod, his expression firm but kind. « Good. But listen—if you’re ever feeling frustrated, if you’re having a rough day, you don’t have to test me to get my attention. You can come to me, tell me how you’re feeling, and we’ll deal with it. » His words hit you deeply, more than you could have expected, and you felt a lump form in your throat again—not from fear, but from relief. You had pushed him earlier, and instead of meeting you with anger, he had been understanding.

« I’m sorry, » you whispered, the words heavy with sincerity. « I didn’t mean to push you like that. »Marshall’s thumb brushed over your cheek again, his eyes softening even more. « I know, doll, » he said gently. « And I’ve already forgiven you. This isn’t about punishment anymore. This is about making sure you’re okay. Are you? »

You took a deep breath, nodding. “Yes, Sir. I’m okay.” He smiled softly at you, his hand moving to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss on the forehead. « Good girl, » he murmured against your skin. The praise made your heart swell, and you felt herself relax fully for the first time that night. You melted into his embrace, your head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you again. There was no tension left—only the quiet, comforting hum of knowing you were safe there.

Marshall held you like that for a while, his hands moving in slow, soothing patterns across your back. He didn’t rush you, didn’t push you to move or speak. He simply held you, his presence a steady anchor in the aftermath of everything you had just been through. After some time, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket from the edge of the bed and draping it over your shoulders. « I want you to rest now, » he said softly. « You’ve been through enough for one night. »

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to you. You let him guide you to lie down on the bed, your body feeling heavy but content. Marshall tucked the blanket around you, his touch tender as he made sure you were comfortable. « Stay with me? » you asked quietly, your voice small but hopeful.

Marshall’s expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. « Of course, » he said, slipping in beside you. He pulled you close, letting you rest your head on his chest as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body sinking into the warmth and safety of his embrace. The day’s struggles, the punishment, the emotions—it all felt distant now, fading into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid presence of him beside you.

« Thank you, » you whispered, your voice barely audible. Marshall’s hand stroked your hair gently, his voice soft as he replied, « I’ve got you, Y/N.»

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem fluff #eminem kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober prompts #kinktober

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kikyoupdates · 4 months ago

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Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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“I’ll have a large caramel macchiato, with light ice, soy milk, extra whipped cream, and can you please use one of the big straws? The small ones are a real pain in the ass. I asked for a big straw last time and they still didn’t give it to me, so make sure you get it right this time.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes at her, but she seems like the type to complain to your manager. Getting fired isn’t an option right now. Not until you finish paying Johnny back, at least.

“Of course,” you say, offering a fake, sickeningly sweet smile. “I’ll get that started for you right away.”

She narrows her eyes at you, no doubt assuming that you’ll manage to fuck it up somehow. Being a barista isn’t all that bad in and of itself, but it’s dealing with annoying ass customers that really makes for a tedious experience. Well, as long as you’re getting paid, you can put up with pretty much anything. Hence the fact that you’re selling your own blood.

You whip up the woman’s order, get briefly bitched at because you apparently took ‘too long’, and when she finally walks out of the store, you sneakily flip up your middle finger.

Interactions like these are pretty standard in the service industry.

You’re working the closing shift, which means it’s late, and thankfully, not very many people are still coming in. You spend most of your time wiping the counters down and preparing to close up shop.

Just one more minute. Only one more minute, and then you can lock the doors, flip the closed sign over, and you’re finally home free.

You’re excited to go home and get some sleep. You’ve been running on fumes these past few days, even more so than usual. Having less blood in your body than normal isn’t exactly doing wonders for your physical wellbeing.

But because your luck is nonexistent, of course, of fucking course a customer decides to walk in at the very last moment.

You grit your teeth. People like this are the absolute worst. They know not the meaning of shame.

A young man has just stepped inside. He’s got soft, delicate features, and a somewhat distraught look in his eyes. He seems awfully skittish for some reason. Which is dumb, because if anyone ought to be unnerved right now, it’s you, the person whose shift just got extended.

“Um,” he calls out shakily. “You’re still open... right?”

You have half a mind to turn him away, but since he looks pretty upset, you don’t want to be the one to ruin his day even more.

“We’re still open for a little bit longer,” you concede. “Just tell me your order and I’ll make it as fast as I can.”

He exhales in relief. “Oh, th-thank you! I really appreciate it. Sorry for coming in so late. The other coffee shop I tried turned me away, so I had to go somewhere else...”

Turned him away? That doesn’t exactly sound like something that would be allowed. Turned him away on the basis of what, exactly? Poor behavior?

“Did you do something to offend the people working there?” you can’t help but frown, curious despite it not being any of your business.

He lowers his gaze to the ground. “I... guess you could say that. I made people uncomfortable just by being there. They told me I was scaring away all their customers. Even though I made sure to go in late, when not many people were around...”

He seems to be making a conscious effort not to move his mouth much as he speaks, but even so, for just a brief moment, you happen to spot them. His fangs.

Ah. He’s a vampire.

You frown. Having already met two vampires and allowed them to drink your blood, it goes without saying that the novelty has kind of worn off. Still, not long ago, you might have been in the same boat as those other people, living in perpetual fear of vampires because you didn’t know any better.

“They can’t refuse to serve you just because you’re a vampire,” you say, and his shoulders jump slightly when he hears you use the term. “That’s discrimination, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal. You could file a complaint against that establishment.”

He furiously shakes his head. “N-No. I’m not trying to create any problems for anyone. It’s fine. I know people can’t help but be afraid. If I were in their position, I probably would be too. But... is it okay for me to be here? If you feel uncomfortable, I can leave right away.”

“Of course not,” you frown. “I would never make you leave."

“It’s just that I noticed you seemed a bit upset when I walked in...”

You let out a sigh. “That’s just because I was looking forward to going home, and you walked in right before closing hour. But now that I understand your circumstances, it makes sense. I’m not going to hold anything against you, so just try to relax, and let me know what you want me to make for you.”

His expression brightens, and if that’s all it takes to elicit a positive reaction out of him, you’re starting to gain some valuable insight as to how vampires are treated around here.

“I just want a medium black coffee,” he says.

A medium black coffee. Such a simple order, and to think that he had to jump through hoops to be able to get it.

You no longer hold any prejudice against vampires. They’re just people, like everyone else. It’s not like they chose to have to drink blood in order to survive. It’s simply the way they were born, and there’s nothing they can do to change it.

Besides, it’s all thanks to vampires that you’re able to keep up with Johnny’s payments. Vampires are quite literally saving your life.

“There you go,” you say, handing him the coffee. It was a breeze to make, and it hardly took any time either. It looks like you’ll be out of here a lot faster than you thought.

The man stares at you for a few moments, but he isn’t looking into your eyes. You don’t realize what he’s so fixated on until his lips finally curve into a smile.

“Um, thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate it... [Name].”

Ah. He must have been looking at your name tag. You smile back at him, then lean over the counter slightly.

“It was my pleasure. And if you don’t mind me asking, you are...?”

“Huh? Oh,” he blinks. “E-Elliot. My name is Elliot.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Elliot. And don’t worry. From now on, you can come to this store whenever you need some coffee. No one here will discriminate against you, and if I happen to be working a shift when you come in, maybe I can even hook you up with some free samples,” you wink.

Elliot’s smile grows even wider, and he frantically nods his head, unable to contain his excitement.

“Thank you!” he splutters. “Thank you so much!”

You can’t help but chuckle. How adorable. It upsets you that he’s being shunned, but not all humans are assholes, just like how not all vampires are bad. Hopefully he’ll meet some nice people soon, and in the meantime, you’ll happily serve him coffee whenever he wants.

Now, then. It’s time to finish cleaning up and finally go home.

You’re standing in front of an unfamiliar house, and for various reasons, you feel apprehensive.

This is the address he gave me. So, then... this is really happening.

Since you agreed to take Felix up on his offer, he’s been messaging you and trying to set up a time for you to meet. You told him that you wouldn’t be comfortable with disclosing where you live, and he agreed, saying that you were more than welcome to have these private visits at his house.

Ugh. Actually, calling them ‘private visits’ doesn’t exactly sit right with you. It makes the whole thing sound a lot dirtier than it is.

You agreed to this, but even so, you’re starting to get cold feet. Isn’t this usually how people get murdered? And you’re not referring to him being a vampire, you’re referring to being a woman and walking straight into the home of a man you barely even know.

Selling your blood to him at Plasma Inc.’s headquarters is definitely safer, but then you remember the whole reason you agreed to this in the first place.

Double pay.

Fuck. The money is calling to you, and you know just how much of a difference that amount would make.

Which is why, even though your fight-or-flight instincts are kicking off, you ignore them and ring the doorbell.

Felix greets you with a sharp, ear-splitting grin, like always.

“[Name]!” he beams. “Come in! I’m so glad you’re here. For a moment, I was actually worried you were going to stand me up, haha.”

I thought about it.

You swallow your thoughts and instead nod. “Hello. You said I could come in, right?”

“Of course! Make yourself at home.”

Felix smiles again and steps aside, granting you entry. You’re not sure what he does for a living, and what kind of jobs are even available to vampires, considering Elliot struggled to be able to buy a goddamn cup of coffee, but if his house is any indication, then he’s certainly not strapped for cash. It makes your cheap studio apartment look even worse than it actually is.

You wander off to the living room and instinctively grab a seat on the couch. You figure you’ll be sitting down while he drinks your blood, like you usually do.

“Before we start,” you suddenly say, “you’re... not going to rip me off, are you? Drink my blood and then kick me out without paying me?”

Felix’s brows skyrocket, and he lets out a gasp, visibly offended.

“I would never do that!” he insists. “I want to be able to keep drinking your blood, so why would I ruin all of that just to save money one time? I want this to be a recurring thing, not just a one-and-done.”

Well, you suppose that makes sense. If he cons you, then no way in hell will you ever meet up with him again, and he seems to really like your blood. He would basically just be shooting himself in the foot.

You’re going to get paid. That much seems to be a given. So, with all the bullshit out of the way... you suppose it’s time to get started.

Felix sits down next to you, visibly eager. He’s already reaching over to loosen the top of your shirt, but before he gets any closer, you quickly push him way.

“W-Wait,” you blurt. “I’m not trying to bitch and whine, but... is it at all possible for you to be a bit more careful? It really hurt last time. I’ll do it anyways, but if you’re able to, just please. I would really appreciate it.”

Xavier made it slightly more bearable, so surely, Felix is capable of doing the same.

Whether or not he cares enough to bother is a different matter entirely, though.

Felix smiles sweetly and rubs your shoulder. “Of course,” he says, and you’re not quite sure you like that lecherous look in his eyes. It’s as if he’s about to eat you up. Which, you suppose he is, but there’s something much more ominous than the literal sense.

You decide to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your gut and turn away, granting him access to your neck.

“I’ll be careful this time,” Felix promises, and he wraps his arms around you before unhinging his jaw.

No matter how many times it happens, you doubt you’ll ever be able to get used to this feeling. But at least it seems like Felix is trying to be gentler than he was before. The pain isn’t anywhere near as unbearable, even though it still makes you sick to your stomach.

You close your eyes, and as always, wait for it to be over. Felix gasps for breath every so often, and you swear you hear him let out a groan of pleasure next to your ear.

It’s okay. He’ll be done soon. Any moment now.

…

Why isn’t he done yet?

“Um,” you grimace, trying to push him away. “I think that’s enough. I’m starting to feel a bit faint. Please stop now.”

But Felix doesn’t stop. Instead, he pushes you down, making your back flatten against the cushions of the couch. He’s bigger than you, and stronger too, so he’s able to hold you in place without any problems.

It’s then, as you feel the full weight of his body pressing down on you, that you realize just how fucking dangerous this is.

“Please,” you plead. The pain in your neck is sharp and unrelenting, but above all else, you’re scared. Why isn’t he letting go? He’s already taken more than enough blood. Your vision is starting to cloud over, and it feels like you’ve broken out into a cold sweat.

Felix is either so overwhelmed by his bloodthirst that he can’t hear you, or worse yet, he simply doesn’t care.

Either way, it doesn’t matter.

You scream.

“Get the fuck off me!”

You manage to knee him in the stomach, and despite the fact that vampires have strong, resilient bodies, the act still makes him double over and let out a groan of discomfort.

While he falters, you hurry to roll onto the floor, then you pick yourself up as fast as possible.

You back into the nearest wall, lightheaded and terrified. You should be running away. You should be, but...

He still hasn’t paid you yet.

“I-I’m sorry,” Felix gasps. He stands up, and when he takes a step forward, you start shaking like a leaf in the wind. Guilt creeps onto his expression. “I don’t... I’m not sure what came over me. I took things too far. I’m sorry, [Name]. I really, really am, and I promise it will never happen again.”

You use a hand to brace yourself against the wall, still shaking. Fuck. You don’t feel well. This bastard really drank too much of your blood. Any more, and it probably would’ve landed you in the hospital. Meeting up with him is way too fucking risky. Even if he says he wants to keep drinking your blood and seeing you regularly, there won’t be any blood to drink if he drains you dry.

“Give me the money you promised,” you seethe.

Felix nods hastily and pulls out a wad of bills from his wallet. He hands them to you, and you snap them up in the blink of an eye.

Then, you turn to leave.

“Wait,” Felix protests. His lips are still painted red with your blood. “You’re not... angry, are you? It was just a mistake. I got a little carried away. All you need to do is tell me to stop, alright? I promise I’ll listen. This really won’t ever happen again.”

Bullshit.

You don’t trust him. He clearly doesn’t know how to hold back, and even though this would have been a sweet deal, you’re not reckless enough to completely gamble your life away. You still have Xavier. And eventually, you’ll probably meet another vampire client.

This guy is bad fucking news, and you want nothing to do with him.

“Goodbye,” you breathe out. He tries to chase after you, but you to beat him to the door and run off into the dead of night.

“I’ll call you!” Felix cries out. “We’ll stay in touch, right?”

You don’t respond.

You managed to pay Johnny back on time again. He seemed pleased with the fact that you’ve been maintaining a diligent schedule, which is probably why he hasn’t been threatening to beat the shit out of you recently.

Thanks to selling your blood, you’ve got more money on hand than you’ve had in a very long time.

But as you will soon realize, this arrangement is far from sustainable.

“[Name], are you feeling okay? You don’t look like you’re well enough to be here...”

Your coworker, Caleb, offers you a concerned look. He’s always been considerate to a fault, and while you appreciate his kindness, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. Regardless of how you feel, you need the money. Selling your blood isn’t enough to pay off your debt in full. It’s only thanks to all your part-time jobs that you’re still making the cut.

“I’m fine,” you wave off, and needless to say, he doesn’t look convinced. You do your best to ignore him and throw on your apron, hobbling weakly across the steel kitchen floor. Thankfully, this is your dishwashing job, so you won’t have to interact with any customers. You really don’t have the energy for that today.

“Okay, but make sure to take breaks,” Caleb insists. “I'm worried that you might slip and get hurt if you’re not careful.”

“I promise I’ll be fine. But thanks for worrying.”

Taking breaks in the middle of your shift isn’t an option. Your boss is a real piece of shit, and he already got mad at you for taking a breather once before, when you were worn-out after pulling two all-nighters in a row. If he catches you again, odds are, you’ll be fired. The job of a dishwasher isn’t exactly difficult to fill, and he’ll readily give your spot to someone who doesn’t slack off.

So, you put on your gloves, bow your head, and get to work. Since the task is so mindless and repetitive, it allows you to drift off and think of other, more entertaining things. Plus, the sound of the water faucet helps you fall into a steady rhythm, and it’s soothing, in a way.

But today, you find yourself struggling to do something as simple as washing dishes. Your hands can’t seem to stop shaking, and white spots repeatedly fade in and out of your vision. Something feels... off. Even your breathing seems to be getting shallower by the minute.

“Caleb,” you mumble weakly. “I think... I might need to...”

You can’t finish your sentence in time. Everything blurs, your legs go wobbly behind the knees, and soon enough, your head hits the ground.

The last thing you hear is Caleb screaming out your name.

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