#assorted pills

[faetouchedandfangs-hub]

It's called being prepared.

@ people who carry bags everywhere what do you put in them what is there to bring other than chapstick, keys, phone and maybe a tampon why are you packing a suitcase to be outside for 5 hours

[write-the-room]

the real question is how has nobody overdosed yet

[transgirl-gaming-thoughts]

Taking communion but it's an estrogen pill and Monster Energy

[taylorsabrina]

thank god sabrina's christmas special comes this week, because the number of times i've genuinely thought of taking my life in the past 48hrs is kinda scary.

[collgeruledzebra]

oh when the bachelor gets back to the capital or wherever he ends up now that thanatica is gone and cleans out that bag of his you KNOW the grit in the bottom is going to be capable of starting an entirely new epidemic

[dullahandyke]

life is so good and awesome peace and love on planet earth

[rafesangelita]

hiii i might’ve sent this in already (you can just ignore this if i have) but i was thinking dealer rafe + sex pollen (like maybe a new drug he’s selling or something) possibly with dubcon?

warnings: dealer!rafe, kinda mean!rafe, reader is a stripper (you could read her lore here), brother’s best friend trope, dubcon (rafe drugs reader without her knowing), implied enemies, slut shaming (?), bratty behavior lol, rafe calls reader a bitch, rafe walks in on reader humping her pillow, manipulation, blackmail, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, hair pulling, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, pull out method

a/n: i made a fic not too long ago with rafe on viagra lol, so this one will have the tables turned <3

wc: 3.3k

“are you sure this stuff even works?” rafe looked down at the little pink pill barry placed in his hand. “trust me, it does.” he winked, pulling the neckline of his shirt down to reveal the assortment of hickeys littered across his skin. “my girl nearly ate me up, country club.” rafe sighed through his nostrils. at least one of them was getting laid. rafe had been so busy lately, he felt like he couldn’t catch any downtime. between selling with barry and dealing with his own shit at home, having sex was the last thing on his mind. surprisingly.

“so.. what? we’re supplying this now?” rafe placed the pill in a small bag, his business partner shaking his head. “i’ll tell you what; you could try it out yourself and decide if you want to make a little bit of pocket change off of it.” barry winked. “and who the hell would i give this to?” just then, you walked through the door, your heels clacking with each step. you looked up at rafe and rolled your eyes. “does he not have a home? why does he always have to be here?” you walked past him, your perfume intoxicating rafe more than any drug him and barry had laid out on the table.

“nice to see you too.” rafe watched you walk down the hallway, your hips swaying deliciously in that mini skirt of yours. “watch those eyes.” barry nudged him. clearing his throat awkwardly, rafe pocketed the pills, knowing exactly who he was going to have the pleasure of trying them out on later. “look, i got some money waiting for me on the mainland, i was wondering if you could break all this stuff up and bag everything while i’m gone? i’ll throw you a few hundred if you do.” rafe nodded, not having anything else planned for the rest of the day. “thanks, man. i’ll be back in a few hours.”

with that, barry left, leaving you and rafe alone in his trailer. you had changed out of your outfit and into a pair of sleeping shorts, fuzzy slippers adorning your feet as you pulled a pink crop top over your head. rafe could hear your music playing from your room, the mere presence of you making it impossible for him to focus. “where did barry go?” you walked out, opening the fridge even though you knew it was empty. rafe looked back, swallowing thickly as he eyed your bare legs. “uhm— he said he needed to get some money on the mainland, so it’ll be a while before he comes back..”

you noticed the way rafe’s voice lowered at the last part of his sentence, his suggestive tone making you raise a brow. “oh, really?” you took a seat across from him, leaning forward as he glanced at your chest. he hummed, his leg bouncing as he tried his best to distract himself from the curves of your breasts spilling out of your top. “yeah.” he weighed out some blow before putting it in a small baggie. the only reason why rafe felt on edge around you was because he knew he couldn’t have you. you were aware of this, and in turn you made it really hard for him to resist you.

“so, uhh— how was work last night?” rafe needed to make conversation or he was going to become stuck fantasizing about those pretty nails of yours digging into his skin. “since when do you ask me about my job?” you giggled, twisting open your water bottle before taking a sip. “well i have to form some sort of imagination of the place since barry said it’s off limits and all.” rafe met your eyes momentarily. “so? is barry is your daddy or something?” you watched as rafe’s jaw ticked. he didn’t think hearing the word ‘daddy’ would sound so enticing leaving your mouth til’ now.

“no, but i wonder where yours is.” he shot back in an attempt to put a wall back up. “that makes two of us.” you laughed. rafe shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. “seriously though, i think you would like to see me perform..” you scooted closer to him, making rafe draw a sharp breath. barry would kill him if he tried to make any kind of move on you, let alone go to the club where you danced at. “yeah, right. your brother would really have it out for me if i did that.” rafe scoffed. with the way you were looking at him right now, he was starting to think fighting barry would all be worth it.

“what if i invited you? what would he say then?” you were dangerously close to him now, your breath fanning the side of his neck. rafe’s fingertips itched to touch you. just as rafe was about to fall into your trap, you whispered in his ear; “too bad i would never do that, though.” you got up, nudging his shoulder with a laugh. rafe glared at you.“that’s real funny, is that how you trick those poor old men into giving you money down there?” rafe snarked. “no. unlike you, they might get a kiss on the cheek.” you winked, getting your phone from your room.

rafe made sure you were out of sight before he took the pink pills out of his pocket. throwing a couple in your water bottle, rafe shaked it until they fully dissolved. maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but you did have a point in what you said earlier. what if you came onto him, and not the other way around? “how long are you going to be here?” you came back, chugging the water bottle before plopping down on the couch. well, that was easy. “just until i’m done with all of this.” rafe muttered, the sight of your ass peeking out from under your shorts making him wet his bottom lip.

for the longest time, you had always been the forbidden fruit, the one thing he could never have. and he hated it. “well get on with it.” rafe swore you had enough sass for the entire island to have some. ignoring your comment, rafe got back to work, the sound of the tv providing background noise for the two of you. about fifteen minutes passed, and rafe could see you squirming from the corner of his eye. you looked bothered, your thighs rubbing together as rafe fixed his attention on you. “you alright over there?” you sighed, flashing him a look as you crossed one leg over the other.

“m’fine!” you were so sexually frustrated right now, it was like a wave of lust had just washed over you. rafe watched the way your eyes fluttered closed, your chest rising and falling with every breath. “are you sure?” rafe spoke again, and this time the sound of his voice made butterflies swarm your tummy. opening your eyes, you leaned the weight of your head on one hand, inspecting the man who sat not too far away from you. while there was always a tension there between you two, you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was. blue eyes, sharp features that made him look rough, his shoulders..

you shook the thoughts out of your head. leaving the living room with a sigh, you threw yourself on your bed. with each aching minute that passed, you only grew hotter for the man in your living room. you cursed under your breath, making sure the blanket you had hung up in your doorway was blocking all view from the outside before you grabbed your small pillow, tucking it between your legs as you grinded your hips into the soft material. with your shorts and your underwear in the way, it was hard to get any of the friction you needed. “fuck!” you whimpered in frustration.

‘what the fuck is wrong with me?’ you cried, feeling the most neediest and horniest you’ve ever felt in your life.. and that’s saying a lot. you continued rocking your hips on the playboy logo of a pillow, sitting up so you could rut against it shamelessly. your fingers dug into your sheets as your clit barely grazed where you needed it most. a moan slipped from your lips, the sound catching rafe’s attention. he paused all movements, his cock stirring in his pants when he heard another moan, this time followed by a whine. rafe listened to you until he couldn’t sit there any longer.

creeping up to the entryway of your room, rafe swung your makeshift curtain out of the way, revealing the sexiest sight he’s ever seen. there you were, shorts and underwear long forgotten on your bedroom floor as your teeth pulled on your bottom lip. “what the fuck are you doing?” you gasped, your eyes shooting open as you rushed to cover yourself. “what the hell, rafe!” you shrieked, scrambling underneath your bedsheets. “humping a pillow, y/n? how pathetic do you have to be to do that?” you glared at him, your lips parting slightly at the erection in his pants.

“i—” you couldn’t find your words, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. “what would barry think of this if i told him?” rafe stepped closer, “he already thinks you’re a slut for being a stripper, imagine if i told him you were humping your pillow like a dumb bunny while i was just in the next room? he’d hate you.” your heart dropped at his words, panic settling in the pit of your gut. “no, please, don’t tell him!” you sat up, tears pricking your eyes as rafe took a seat at the edge of your bed. “i don’t know what’s happening to me, okay? i’ve never felt like this before!” you cried out.

“what do you mean?” rafe acted coy, as if he didn’t just drug you with enough horny pills to keep you soaked and needy for days. “i’m just— ugh, you’re the last person i should be explaining this to!” you rested your head in your hands, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably. “tell me,” rafe urged, “or you’ll be stuck explaining this to your brother..” he shook his head, resting a hand on your blanket-clad thigh. the weight of rafe’s hand made a shiver run down your spine. “okay, okay..” you sighed, finally meeting his eyes. “one minute i was fine, and then the next.. i’m like this.”

rafe watched the way you shrunk in on yourself, your eyebrows etched in embarrassment. the way you were acting right now was such a stark contrast to your usual bitchy attitude. “like what?” rafe pushed forward, wanting, begging you to confide in him to help you out with your little problem. your lips parted, your gaze shooting down to the adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. oh, how bad you wanted to kiss it. “like..” your voice was barely above a whisper as rafe slowly pulled the covers off of you, “like i need to be fucked.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together, your words making his cock twitch.

“sucks to be you.” rafe stood up, about to leave your room before you stopped him. “wait!” you cried out, “where are you going?” you crawled to the edge of your bed, fisting the back of his shirt. rafe smiled to himself, internally singing before he turned around to see you on your knees, your eyes wide and needy as you gazed up at him. “what? i’m leaving.” rafe pulled away, in which you shook your head. he was having way too much fun right now. “no!” you pulled him down, “please stay..” you looked down at his lips, running your nails across the back of his neck. “help me, help you.”

rafe leaned in first, taking your lips with his own as you moaned against his mouth. “you’re gonna help me, alright.” he pulled you on top of his lap, your thighs settling on either side of his waist as he fought to take off your baby tee. lifting your arms up, rafe groaned when your tits fell softly out of your top. tossing the garment aside, you let out a moan when rafe attached his desperate mouth to your sensitive bud, his tongue circling your nipple as you held him close to your chest. you moaned with every stroke of his hands against your skin, your hips grinding on his erection.

“holy, fuck!” rafe pulled away for a moment, looking down between the two of you where you grinded on his shorts. you were so wet, you left a wet patch where you rutted against him. leaning back on his hands, rafe watched as you used him to get yourself off, your glossy cunt sparkling underneath the light of the setting sun filtering through your blinds. you were so pretty like this, rafe felt like he could cum from looking at your pleasure filled face alone. “does that feel good?” rafe groaned when you picked up your pace, his length just throbbing to get out of the confines of his underwear.

“mm, fuck— yes, rafe!” you kept moving until your hips stuttered, your first orgasm hitting you pathetically as you whimpered and whined for something more. still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you got down on shaky legs, not wasting any time in getting rafe’s shorts off. you were so desperate for his cock, rafe smirked when he saw the way your eyes widened when his length sprung up against his stomach. just as you reached for what you needed most, rafe stopped you by grabbing your hand. “nah, you don’t get it that easy,” he shook his head, “lay down.”

those were his last words before he had you laying flat on your bed, your head hanging off the edge as he fucked your throat mercilessly. “thought you were just gonna get what you wanted, huh? fuck no.” he said through gritted teeth. tears were streaming down your face, the noises bouncing off of the walls right now were nothing short of obscene. “always walking around here acting like a spoiled brat, fuck you.” rafe spat, the tip of your nose hitting his pubic bone. he held your hands in his, not allowing you to have any leverage as he fucked your face.

your tongue was dancing around his cock, the sensation bringing him closer to that glorious edge. “o-oh, fuck..” rafe sucked in a breath, stilling as you swallowed around his tip. pulling out to give you some air, you managed to gasp before he slid back in, a mixture of spit and precum connecting you two together. “m’gonna fuck this pretty little mouth of yours until you choke..” his hand snaked down to the apex of your thighs where he gave your soaked folds a harsh slap. you squealed at the stinging sensation, his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat.

sure enough, you gagged around him, his hot cum painting your tongue. rafe doubled over with a hiss, his mouth falling open as you took every last drop. “that’s perfect. yeah, fuckin’ take it.” rafe slapped your cunt once more, eliciting a whine from your lips as he pulled away. you were breathless, your wrists burning from the unforgiving grip rafe had on them. in one swift movement, rafe flipped you onto your back, using his large hands to pin your thighs to your mattress. “beg for it, you fucking slut.” rafe teased your entrance with his glistening tip, your eyebrows knitting together at his cruel ministrations.

“please! i need you so bad, ray!” fuck, you were a mess right now. with your lipgloss smeared all over your chin, those tear stained cheeks, and disheveled hair.. rafe couldn’t help but admire the sight. everything rafe wanted was so close, yet so far, he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. who knew when you would be so needy and pliant for him like this again? “really? i don’t think so.” he quipped. letting out a shaky breath, you reached down between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance before sliding him in with a pierced gasp.

rafe’s eyes screwed shut, his hips moving on their own accord as he finally gave in to you. the man on top of you was in a daze. you were so warm, and so wet, he didn’t know how he was going to pull through with the way you were sucking him in with every thrust. “fuck.” he leaned down, taking your lips with his own. he tasted so good on your tongue, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he fucked into you. his pace was brutal, his toned stomach smacking against your clit as you moaned in his ear. “oh, my god!” you couldn’t help your nails from raking down his back.

“look at you..” he pulled away, grabbing a fistful of your hair so you can meet his eyes. “you’re just a bimbo whore with tits for brains, you know that?” you whimpered at his words, the degrading statement only making you clench around him tighter. rafe groaned, he should’ve known you’d be into that shit. unpinning your thighs from your bed, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he caged you between his arms, his biceps on either side of your face. he was a lot closer like this, the intimacy of it making your heart flutter in your chest. “i always thought you were h-hot.” you managed to mewl.

“yeah?” he inserted a thumb between your lips, your tongue circling around his finger. “mhmm— yes!” rafe watched with dark eyes as you started sucking on the digit. “why the fuck didn’t you said anything then? we could’ve done this a lot sooner, baby.” he tsked. pulling his hand away from your mouth, he replaced his thumb with his lips, swallowing all of your pretty sounds. cupping his face, you pulled away with a bated breath, your orgasm beginning to simmer in your core. “rafe?” your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together as rafe stared you down.

“you’re close?” he could tell by the way your thighs trembled at his sides that you were about to hit your peak. you nodded weakly, your eyes meeting his as he watched you come undone beneath him. you paused, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan. rafe knew as soon as you were able to get a breath out you were going to be in hysterics. sure enough, you gasped, a sob ripping from your throat as your body shook. from your head to your toes, you were buzzing in pure bliss. rafe stroked your face, bringing you down from your high with whispers of praise.

“so fuckin’ pretty.”

“shhh, i’m right here.”

you embraced him once more, pressing a kiss to his neck before he pulled out, using a hand to fist his length until he spilled onto your folds. you pouted, your teary eyes gazing up at him through your eyelashes. “why didn’t you stay inside?” you whined, the man on top of you breathing heavily. “w-what?” he panted, his cock twitching with sensitivity. “i wanted you to cum inside me, why did you pull out?” rafe did a double take at your words, his mind reeling with ideas of filling you up. “you’d be okay with that?” a hint of a smile played on his lips when you hummed in agreement. “wanna go again?”

you two were so busy building up foreplay, that neither of you heard the front door open. “i forgot my stupid wallet!” barry shouted. you moaned, your hips chasing rafe’s hand as he buried his fingers in your cunt. “did you hear that?” rafe froze, looking at the doorway of your room. “it���s nothing, i left the tv on, remember!” you turned his attention back on you, both of you laughing against each other’s skin. “y/n, have you seen my—” you and rafe jumped when barry barged in, a scream escaping you as you scrambled to cover yourself.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, country club!”

[dooberific]

❝ 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ❞

harumasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: possibly ooc idk, mentions of illness, depression, nonsexual nudity

wc: 1.9k

When Asaba Harumasa sent you a “U up?” text in the wee hours of the morning you didn’t question it.

You simply rolled onto your back, squinting harshly into the light of your phone screen as you typed out a quick response, your arms falling limply at your sides as you willed yourself from the warm embrace of your comforter.

Late night messages didn’t warrant more care on appearance than a wrinkled sweatshirt dragged on over your pajamas and whatever sneakers were conveniently placed by the door, your hair little more than a rat nest knotted on top of your head. You had no fear walking the streets at this hour, especially when you looked as abysmal as you did on such calls, your fear abating further as the fresh scent of rain assaulted your lungs.

Some part of you questioned your choice to not go back for an umbrella as you dodged puddles on the sidewalk, the hood of your sweatshirt now tied ridiculously around your face as if the thin fabric would save you from the impending chill of the rain.

A good ten minutes had passed before you found yourself standing at his door, a trail of water dripping in your wake. You didn’t bother to knock, you were past that point in your relationship by now, simply extending yourself onto your toes as you swiped your fingertips across the top of the door trim until a familiar golden key flipped easily into your palm.

The apartment was quiet as you padded in, wet sneakers in hand. The mess didn’t shock you anymore, the haphazard pile of sneakers and the odd pair of dress shoes a stark contrast to your orderly placement of your own. Piles of jackets, dress shirts, and ties were strewn across every chair in the small kitchenette to accompany the sink full of dishes and the assortment of glasses at various stages of finished that littered the space as well. You grimaced at the gritty feeling of his floor as you ventured in further, stripping off your wet clothes as you went.

“Haru?” You called, padding down the short hallway towards his room. The door sat slightly ajar, the interior of his bedroom just as dark as the rest of his apartment had been. You rap your knuckles against the door, calling his name again as you push the door open, your shadow splitting the light that spilled in from the hallway.

He didn’t acknowledge you, let alone move from where he sat hunched over on his bed, electrifying eyes dull as he stared blankly out the window. His blankets were strewn wildly across the bed, his sheets barely clinging to the edges of the mattress. You warily eyed the upturned pharmacy bottle on the nightstand, watching your step for stray pills as you picked your way to his bed. You eased up onto the mattress behind him, looping your arms over his shoulders as you rested your chin against the junction of his neck.

The rhythmic tap of the rain mingled with the gentle sound of his breathing and the thumping of your own heart against his back. He was warm in your grasp, his hair tickling your cheek as you rested your weight into his body. On his bad days the best thing you could provide was companionship in his silence, your hands gently running up and down his arms as the rain began to lull your tired mind back to sleep.

“Haru,” you murmured gently against his ear, feeling his body tense at the tickle of your breath against his skin.

“It’s still you.”

He shuddered in your arms.

When Asaba Harumasa asked you to join him in the shower, you didn’t bat an eye.

You ushered him off the bed in silence, pausing just to fish around in his closet for a suitable change of clothes. His bathroom was cramped to be housing two people, but he didn’t utter a peep of complaint despite all the bumped elbows and the rattle of medication bottles being knocked from the countertop and into the sink as you did your best to arrange the space into something reasonable. He looked more gaunt than you remembered under the harsh white light of the bathroom, cheeks more sunken and eye bags darker. You didn’t bother to ask how many days he had already called out of work for, knowing that it may hurt you more to know how long he had silently endured his illness before deigning it worthy to bother you.

The bathroom steamed quickly once you turned the shower on, the air warm and clammy against your skin as you worked to free you both of your clothes. Embarrassment had long died at the idea of being naked in front of him, making the notion of being pressed flush against him in a tiny standing shower an exceedingly natural thing. The warm water was a welcome feeling as it doused over his back and down your chest, your hands traveling up to run through his dark hair. His shampoo hung sweetly in the air as you worked it into his scalp, a grin pulling at your lips as his pretty lashes fluttered and he leaned into your touch.

The rest of the shower progressed in a similar manner, your hands working soap over the firm planes of his chest and arms and watching as the scars notating years of hollow exploration and management vanish for just a moment under a sheen of bubbles. Your fingers paused just shy of his slender neck, fingertips grazing his clavicle before you retracted your hands. He favored washing his neck himself as you had found out the first time you had bathed together, recalling how harshly he had recoiled at your touch. It was never a topic you chose to breach, assuming it to have something to do with the pinpoint scars that littered his pale skin.

You nearly missed the murmur of your name falling from his lips under the rush of water from the shower head. It was the first thing he had managed since you arrived, his voice husky from his silent struggle for god knows how long. His hands, once firm against your fleshy sides, trailed up your arms to catch your wrists as he guided your own hands to rest against the sides of his neck. He held them there for a moment, thumbs tracing over the backs of your hands in a mindless motion before his eyes drew shut and he leaned into the junction of your shoulder. You felt his neck expand under your fingers as he inhaled deeply, arms sliding down to hang loosely around your waist.

How you managed to finish washing up in such a position may be the real miracle of the night, wincing as you pushed the curtain aside only to be assaulted with cold air before you could reach for one of the towels you had set out. With practiced ease you dried him off, watching his hair begin to bounce back to life under your ministrations. You dressed him before tending to yourself, pulling your own clothes back on before winding your hair up in a towel.

You paused, watching quietly as he stared blankly at his water-warped reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror. “Harumasa,” you called, bunching the fabric of your shirt sleeve in your hand as you swiped it across the mirror.

“It’s still you.”

When Asaba Harumasa didn’t ask you to make him a meal, you took it upon yourself to intrude for a moment longer.

He seemed much more comfortable now, lingering just within your personal bubble as you milled around his kitchenette. In terms of groceries things appeared rather grim until you unearthed a couple packs of spicy instant ramen from the back of a cabinet. You made a mental note to work up a list and find something to replenish his cabinets before he fully wasted away, images of fresh meat and veggies dancing in your head as you hummed a mindless tune over the boiling pot you tended on the stove.

You dressed it up as best as you could considering the circumstances, praising your lucky stars as you found some stray utensils from old takeout in one of the drawers. The dishes would be your next battle, but for now stray chopsticks from a local restaurant and the very pot you had cooked in would have to do. You cleared the chairs of his clothes so you could both hunch unceremoniously over the pot, shoulders pressed together as you silently battled each other for whatever caught your fancy.

Asaba Harumasa didn’t have to ask you for help with the dishes, or with the laundry.

He was right there with you, pressed to your side as you gently motivated him alongside your efforts to reclaim his space. He didn’t have to ask you to help him remake his bed, iron his clothes, or pick up the medication spilled all over his floor. You were sure you had heard him mutter “thanks” to you a hundred times already as you milled dutifully around his space with him trailing along behind until you heard the first yawn break his silence.

He didn’t fight when you pushed him back down the hallway to his room and turned the covers over for him, nor when you crawled into bed beside him. The rain had yet to stop, still pattering pleasantly against the window as you scooted closer and rolled to your side to face him, your hair fanning wildly across his pillow.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Your voice came out in a whisper in the dark, the streetlight peeking through the windows just enough to accentuate the warmth in your gaze. He sucked in a breath.

“I would like that.” He breathed, watching your infectious grin dimple your own cheeks.

You drew him closer, pulling his arm over your waist as you draped one of your legs over him. Your hands threaded into his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you pressed his head against your chest.

“Goodnight, Haru.” You hummed, pressing a kiss against the top of his head, your nose wrinkling as his hair tickled your nose.

His grip around you tightened, drawing you closer as he nestled his face into your neck, breathing in the scent of his soap on your skin.

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

…

When his alarm went off at 6am you didn’t stir, your chest still rising and falling in a steady rhythm even as he untangled your limbs so he could get up.

He was still exhausted, his body feeling like it was laced with lead as he stumbled out of bed and down the hall, his work clothes in tow as the scent of coffee met his nose. You must have set the coffee pot timer when you were reclaiming his kitchen.

He flipped on the bathroom light as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, pausing at the flash of orange on the mirror. A multitude of orange sticky notes decorated its surface ringing his reflection, each adorned with your curling script.

Good morning, sleepyhead!

Looking particularly handsome today~

Intelligent and Funny too!

Productive!

Healthy and vital!

A dapper fellow indeed ;D

He reached out, peeling one of the notes off as he brought it closer, electric eyes dancing over your words as a warmth bloomed in his chest. His eyes flickered up to his reflection, boring into his own visage as he sucked in a breath.

Look! It’s still you.

And for the first time he smiled like he believed it.

Rey ‘24, cross posted to ao3

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

pharmacology is basically magic tho. we have these potions pills. they can bring about great blessings, but also inflict great curses. maybe they can cure your suffering, but at a Cost (co-pay + assorted side effects). most people prefer not to delve into the dark realm of medication, but sometimes it's the only way to deal with the Afflictions. they seem to favor a Chosen Few, no one knows why. yes humans summoned them into being from baser elements. yes we frequently have no idea how they work. yes you must obey the rules of the prescription contract or risk your life and sanity (and liver health). yes there is fine print involved, read it carefully.

what lays beyond this dark chemistry? demons from hell? bargains with the fae? clinical trials alchemical rituals toying with flesh and blood and body and soul???? no idea but come back in 6 weeks we'll fiddle with the dosage

[charmedimsure]

WAKE UP CALL || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: Thanos is you're least favorite regular at the club you bartend for. But when you find him passed out against the building one night, you can't just leave him there. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i'm really proud of this fic. expect a second part sometime soonish (gonna work on requests first tho). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: The Next Episode

The music in Club Pentagon is so loud it feels like it's inside of you. You're placing the olives in a dry martini a patron is waiting for, handing it to them with a smile. You're one of the most popular bartenders at Club Pentagon. Men order from you because they're drunk and want to fuck you, and women order from you because they're more comfortable drinking cocktails that have been made by another woman.

"Señorita, over here!" A voice yells out to you and you sigh at the familiar voice.

You turn and put a hand on your hip, spotting the telltale purple hair of your least favorite regular. "What do you want?"

He puts a hand over his heart. "Ouch, you hurt me, baby. I just wanted to see my favorite girl."

You roll your eyes, grabbing a nearby towel and quickly wiping drops of different liquors off the bar. "Well, you saw me, so you can leave now."

He takes a glance at his little posse around him, consisting of guys hoping to get famous, girls wanting to say they slept with a rapper, and your least favorite coworker Nam-gyu. You have no idea how the runner still has a job here, considering he spends more time licking the failed rapper's boots than actually running anything.

"You know, I have an extra space at my table," he says. "I'd love if you came over after your shift. Thanos will treat you well."

You groan. The boy has been relentless in asking you out ever since you started working at the club. "I would rather sit with the movie villain than you." You look over his shoulder at your coworker. "Nam-gyu, take him away or I'm gonna volunteer you to clean the floors."

With a hiss, Nam-gyu puts his hands on Thanos' shoulders and steers him away from you. Thanos smiles over his shoulder, waving at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Señorita!"

You cringe, knowing that you most definitely will see him again tomorrow.

<>

The next night goes by much too slow for your liking. You spend your shift mixing the same drinks over and over, putting up with the men who flirt with you, and calling security on some men who won't leave girls alone. You had of course seen Thanos, but the club was so busy that you didn't even have the time to reject him, instead just huffing at him and turning to another person waiting at the bar.

Once your shift is over and you've finished everything you need to do, you step out through the back door, taking a deep breath of air that doesn't smell like smoke or alcohol.

As you walk toward the street to hail a cab, you spot a flash of purple against the wall. Getting a bit closer, you recognize the passed out body of Thanos.

While a small part of your mind is telling you to just leave him there, you know you can't do that. You crouch down next to him, putting your fingers on his pulse point and letting out a sigh of relief when you feel his heartbeat. You look down at him, furrowing your brows when you notice that the cross that always hangs around his neck is slightly open.

Carefully picking it up, you take a peek inside and see an assortment of multi-colored pills. Shit, he's lucky he's just passed out. Had you known he'd been on... whatever this shit is... you would've banned all bartenders from serving him drinks. He may be the bane of your existence, but you're not going to let him die.

You close the cross and remove it from around his neck, shoving it in your pocket. You lightly slap his cheek a few times until he blinks his eyes open, looking around him. He looks at you, eyes adjusting to the light.

"Hey, Señorita," he slurs. "Where is everybody? Where's Nam-su? He was supposed to take me home."

You let out a small chuckle at the name he called your coworker. "They aren't here."

He frowns, trying to stand up. "I need another drink."

You grab onto his shoulders, supporting his weight as he nearly topples to the ground. "I think you've had enough, Thanos. It's time to get you home."

He makes a sound of protest, but doesn't have the strength to stop you from dragging him to the curb as you wave down a taxi. The car pulls up and you help Thanos into the back seat before sliding in next to him.

"Where to, Miss?"

The plan was to take Thanos to his place, but you don't know where he lives and the odds of him telling you or the cab driver right now are slim. He also can't be left alone in the state he's in. One more pill could send him over the edge.

With a sigh, you tell the driver the address of your apartment building, holding Thanos upright as he pulls away from the club.

<>

Thanos wakes up, his head pounding worse than ever. He reaches for his cross to pop a pill to get rid of the headache, but instead of finding the necklace, his hands just grab his shirt.

He opens his eyes, hissing when the light makes a pang of pain go through his head. Looking down, Thanos' cross is nowhere to be found. That's when he realizes that he's not in his bed, or any bed, for that matter. He's laying on the couch in an unknown place, a small garbage can on the floor next to him. On the coffee table in front of him is a glass of water. He reaches for it, downing the whole glass in one go. Spotting a small note next to the glass, he picks it up and reads it.

'If you barf I'll make you clean it up. Use the garbage.'

He hears a noise coming from the other room and stands up, wanting to figure out what is happening and where he is. When he steps into the kitchen, he nearly gasps when he sees you with your messy hair and oversized t-shirt on.

You turn to look at him. "Oh good, you're not dead. I really didn't want to deal with that." You walk over to the fridge. "Blue or red?"

He gives you a confused look. "What?"

"Gatorade," you clarify. "Blue or red?"

"Oh, uhh, blue."

You grab the blue bottle and place it on the table. "Drink that. The electrolytes are good for hangovers."

Thanos walks slowly to the table, picking up the bottle and taking a sip. "Do you have a bathroom?"

"No, I just pee out the window," you deadpan without thinking. You see him look down, a look of embarrassment and shame taking over his face. You sigh. "Down the hall to the left."

The boy nods and disappears down the hallway. He walks into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He feels in his pockets, taking out his phone and huffing when he sees the battery is dead. Looking inside your medicine cabinet, he frowns when he can't find what he's looking for. How can you have no painkillers? Instead he takes the mouthwash, taking two big gulps. Mouthwash has alcohol, and he needs it. When he doesn't feel the familiar sting, he looks down at the label.

'Alcohol free'.

Just his fucking luck.

He puts the bottle back in the cabinet and closes it, coming face-to-face with himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes have never been darker, at least not that he can remember. His skin looks pale, and his hair is disgusting. He turns the knob for the sink, splashing his face with cold water.

When he walks back into the kitchen, you're no longer there. He moves to the table, seeing a plate with scrambled eggs and toast sitting next to his drink. Thanos hesitates, not really knowing what to do.

"That's for you, you know."

He jumps a bit when he hears your voice behind him. You come out of your room dressed in your casual clothes.

You smile slightly at his expression. "Do you not like eggs?"

He shakes his head. "No, eggs are good."

Your smile grows. "Good because that's all I know how to make. Do you want any hot sauce with it or something?" You put the rest of the eggs from the pan onto your own plate and leave the pan to cool off.

"Do you have pepper?" Thanos asks.

You nod, walking to the table and putting your plate down on the opposite side of his. "It's on the table."

Thanos cautiously sits down in his seat, reaching for the pepper and putting it on his eggs. He takes a bite, pleased to find that they are cooked just right. He watches you as you eat your breakfast in silence, scrolling through your phone mindlessly. A shot of pain going through his head and he winces. "Do you have any painkillers?"

You shake your head, not taking your eyes away from the screen. "I do, but I think you've mixed enough substances with whatever's in that cross you carry."

Thanos feels his entire body tense at the mention of his cross. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing ends up coming out.

You lock your phone and put it face-down on the table. "Don't worry, I didn't throw it out. It's in a safe place, along with the painkillers and anything else that could potentially be abused."

The boy lets out a breath and nods, continuing to eat slowly. He looks you over silently. Your face is bare of makeup and your hair is still messy. Thanos has liked you since the moment he first saw you at the club, but you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"I found you passed out outside the club last night when I was leaving," you explain. "You said Nam-gyu was supposed to bring you home but I couldn't find him, so I took you back here."

Thanos huffs. "Fucking idiot," he says under his breath.

You snort out a laugh, and Thanos thinks it might just be the most beautiful noise he's ever heard. He wants to know what he can do to hear that noise again.

You both finish your food in a comfortable silence, you looking at your phone and Thanos looking at you. At one point you catch him looking at you and raise an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath. "Why are you helping me? Why are you being nice to me? I've been nothing but an asshole to you."

You sigh. "Honestly, I've been asking myself the same question. I think I just saw you there, alone and in need, and I thought that I would've wanted someone to help me had they found me like that. You have been an ass, but I think that's more the pills than you."

Thanos nods slowly, taking in your words. "Well, thank you."

You nod. "Just please don't make me regret showing you where my apartment is. I don't wanna move."

The boy chuckles, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch up at the sound. "I won't. I promise."

"Good." You stand, taking your plate and his and bringing them to the sink. "I have off today. You're welcome to stay here for a bit until you're feeling better. I'll call a cab for you when you're ready."

Thanos goes back to the couch he woke up on, sitting down. He finds a charger for his phone and plugs it in. You come into the room, putting a new bottle of gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. He thanks you and cracks the seal.

The two of you end up talking for hours. He tells you about how he got into music, and you tell him that you always wanted to try learning to play the guitar, though you've never had enough money to buy one or the other equipment. Thanos feels his heart grow fuller with every laugh he is able to get out of you. He gets more satisfaction from these few hours spent with you than he has every night drinking his life away at Club Pentagon.

At one point, you look at him, a lazy smile on your face. "What's your name?"

He gives you a look of confusion.

"Your real name. I doubt your real name is Thanos."

He lets out a nervous laugh. He hasn't gone by his real name in at least a year. "It's Su-bong," he says shyly. "Choi Su-bong."

"Su-bong," you repeat, as if trying out how it feels. You smile at him. "I like Su-bong. You should be him more often."

Later, as you stand outside your building calling for a taxi, you turn to look at the boy next to you. "You know, you could be so much more than this."

He looks at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You have talent and heart, more than you've ever shown while out of your mind drunk and stoned," you say. "So many people's lives are ruined because they keep chasing that high. Don't be one of those people. Please. You're meant for better."

A cab pulls to the curb in front of you. As Su-bong opens the door, you put an arm on his shoulder, stopping him. Digging into your pocket, you pull out his cross and hand it to him. "The choice is yours. And if you decide you want to give your life another chance, I'll be here to support you." You hand him a slip of paper with your phone number. "This is for support. If you text me the way that you talk to me at the club, I'm going to block you. Do not make me regret this."

He smiles as he takes the cross and the paper from you. Once he sits in the car, he rolls the window down. "Thank you again, for everything."

You give him a small smile and wave before walking back into your apartment building.

Once inside his own apartment, Thanos walks to his bathroom. He takes the cross out of his pocket, opening it to find his pills. He picks one up, examining it. With a sigh, he drops the pill into the toilet, turning the cross over so the others follow. He watches as the bright pills swirl around bowl before disappearing down the drain. He doesn't want to be this person anymore. He wants to be someone that you can be proud of. Someone that he can be proud of.

[heart-eyed-love]

Girl Stuff

Summary | Eddie helps you out when you are dealing with your period.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Talks of having a period, Pot brownies, Beer, Taking pain medicine, and a very small amount of cursing, like probably once. (sorry if i miss anything!)

Word Count | 1.1k

Eddie’s staring at you from his kitchen, you’re sprawled out on the couch in the oddest position, with face buried into it.

“There’s no way that’s comfortable…” He says as he enters the living room again, beer in hand as he observes you with his quirked eyebrows. You crane your neck from its buried spot.

“Actually, this is the only position I can lay in currently that doesn’t make me feel like I’m dying…”

He chuckles slightly as he plops down in the recliner, instead of his preferred spot, on the couch, next to you. “What’s wrong?”

He watches you as you stare at him before rolling your eyes and turning back towards the inner side of the couch. He furrows his eyebrows and raises his hand in confusion, but then he hears you mutter a small, “Girl stuff.”

Ohhh, that makes sense, he guessed. It would definitely explain the attitude you’ve had with him all day, hence the beer in his hand. He chuckles yet again once you reveal the reasoning of your odd position, causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you find this funny.” You say somewhat annoyed. You know you’ve been a pain in his ass all day and you did feel slightly bad, but somehow he just kept doing something to piss you off.

You hear him stand from the creaky recliner, wanting to turn your head and tell him not to leave, in case you had pushed him too far, but the cramps in your abdomen keep you silent as you bury your face further into the couch.

Eddie, on the other hand, had headed off to the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of pain pills and heating pad, then into his room to grab the one selling factor. One things he knew you couldn’t resist, he’s about to have you wrapped around his finger, or maybe you just had him wrapped around yours.

He comes back into the living room and you can hear a pile of stuff falling onto the coffee table behind you, it doesn’t rouse you from your spot though.

Not until clears his throat once, and when you don’t turn around he does it again. You roll your eyes again before you turn to face him, and when you do you see he’s brought out some stuff for you.

You bring yourself to sit up and you raise your eyebrows at him, “It’s for your… girl stuff.” He’s smirking at you as you scowl, but when you look down at all the assortment of stuff he has brought to you, you can feel your heart melting slightly.

A heating pad, a bottle of pills, and… you furrow your eyebrows again, “What? You’re actually gonna let me wear it?” You asked skeptically. It’s Eddie’s favorite hoodie, one that you’d try to steal and wear multiple times, and he would not allow it.

He thinks it only fair he’d have at least one of his own hoodies. He didn’t have many in the first place, they’d all gone missing, and the last place he can remember seeing them is on you.

So, yes. He is keeping his favorite hoodie to himself, although you do come along trying to steal it like some fucking side quest. But, he thinks if it’ll help in any way it would be good to try.

“Yes, I’ll actually let you wear it.” He scoffs, “But, you aren’t keeping it, (Y/N). And you need to bring back my other hoodies…” He says, but he’s not fighting it too hard. He doesn’t exactly mind seeing you in them, especially when it’s one of those chilly days and you wear them to school.

“I Can’t. I wear those, Eddie.”

“Okay, well if you bring them back we can both wear them, we can share. Doesn’t sharing sound nice…” He teases, voice slightly condescending.

“Fine, whatever.” You say as you slip the sacred hoodie over your head, and you reach for the pill bottle, “Can I have some water?” You ask as you take the bottle in your hand.

“Magic word?”

You roll your eyes, “Please?”

Eddie chuckles as he walks off to the kitchen, “You know, your eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of your head if you keep rolling them at me…” He says as he opens the cabinet pulling out a cup and begins filling it with water.

“Uh-huh…” You mutter out, toning him out as you attempt to get the stubborn cap off, feeling like an idiot.

But soon he’s waking back into the living room. You’ve successfully gotten the cap off, and he's setting the water down on the coaster in front of you, he’s holding something wrapped in foil in the other. It catches your eye.

“I wasn’t going to share these with you cause you’ve been acting like a brat today…” You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, “But since, I guess you have a good enough reason, I'll let it slide…”

He sits down next to you, he’s close enough to feel his warmth, it’s actually kind of soothing. You take the pills before asking, “What is it?”

He begins unwrapping it, and once the foil it opens you get the view of a couple brownies. “Rick gave them to me, I made sure to save some for you though…” And a smile overtakes your face.

“So, you’re telling me I finally get to try some of Rick's infamous pot brownies? And you aren’t going to hog them all to yourself?” And Eddie’s scrunched his face at the claim, even though you both know it’s true.

“I don’t hog them.”

“You totally do!” You giggle out, “Last time you said you’d have some for me when I came by to hang out, but you ate them all!”

“Okay, well I saved some for you this time, be grateful.” He teased, “Okay, well I saved some for you this time, be grateful.” He teased.

“I’m very grateful…” You giggle teasingly as you say it before softening as you look at him , “but thanks though… like really…”

“It’s whatever…” He shrugs lightly, playing it off, only causing you to giggle more, and he teasingly pushes your head.

After having taken your medicine, and eating the brownies with Eddie, you both end up sprawled out on the couch, snacks wildly scattered across the coffee table. Laughing at whatever stupid movie you guys had chosen to watch.

You both are passed out on the couch, by the time Wayne arrives homes. Rolling his eyes, wondering how you both could be so clueless.



[callsigns-haze]

His darkness, my flame: The start

Azriel and YN ended things for good. Things that happened during her release may have been bad: Azriels lies were worse. Now he lies with another she is alone at night with her son until someone breaks into her home sweet home.

Pairing: Ex!Azriel x reader....Eris x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences

Plays as a sequel of my series His Shadow or as a own fic!

The night enveloped YN in a shroud of darkness, the only sound being the occasional rustle of leaves outside her cabin in the mountain forest. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the window, casting a silvery light that danced across her room. She stirred from a restless sleep, her eyes fluttering open to the digital clock on her bedside table that glowed ominously in the stillness—2:37 AM.

A sense of dread washed over her as she turned her head slowly to the side, careful not to disturb the peaceful slumber of her three-year-old son, Knox, who was nestled in the room beside her. The weight of silence pressed against her chest, a reminder of the responsibilities that tethered her to wakefulness.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the sheets where Azriel used to sleep. Now he lies with that stupid high lady's sister Elain. The memories came flooding back—his gentle presence, the way he would wrap her in warmth, the way Knox had once cooed in his arms as a baby. But those days felt distant now, almost like a cruel dream.

Her fingers brushed against the rough wood of the drawer beside her, pulling it open with a soft creak. Inside, she found a small assortment of pills, a mix of painkillers and anxiolytics that she had come to rely on since fleeing the pleasure houses that had once held her captive. Each pill felt like a bittersweet promise of relief, a temporary escape from the haunting memories that lingered, reminding her of the choices she had made. She took a handful, her throat tight as she swallowed them dry, desperate for a moment of calm.

Rising from the bed, she moved quietly through the cabin, each step deliberate as she navigated the shadows. The chill in the air prickled against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the memories that filled her mind. She entered the small kitchen, seeking solace in a glass of water. As she poured the cool liquid, the sound of the stream echoed in the silence, her heart racing as the night seemed to whisper secrets she wasn’t ready to hear.

But then, a soft creak shattered the tranquillity. YN turned sharply, her heart pounding in her chest. In the dim light of the kitchen, a figure sat in one of the chairs, shrouded in darkness. The flickering shadows revealed the glint of a dagger as it twirled effortlessly in the figure’s hands. Panic surged through her, and she instinctively stepped back, her body tense and ready for a fight.

“What do you want?” she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

The figure leaned back, the dagger spinning to a halt in his palm. “We have the same goal,” he replied, his voice smooth, yet laced with an unsettling confidence. “Revenge on the Inner Circle.”

YN narrowed her eyes, her mind racing as she tried to place the voice. “Who are you?” she asked, her breath hitching in her throat.

With a fluid motion, the figure pulled back his hood, revealing sharp features framed by tousled hair and a piercing gaze that seemed to glow even in the shadows. “Eris,” he introduced himself, a smirk playing on his lips. “Son of the Lord of Autumn. You may have heard of me.”

Recognition flickered through YN, a mix of surprise and wariness. “What do you want with me?”

Eris leaned forward, the dagger still glinting in his hand, an unsettling charm emanating from him. “You have a unique perspective on the Inner Circle’s power plays. I believe we could help each other.”

As she stood before him, uncertainty clawed at her heart. The weight of her past decisions and the tangled web of loyalties and betrayals pressed heavily upon her. The night was still young, but in this moment, with a dangerous stranger offering a path toward revenge, YN realized that her life was about to take another unpredictable turn.

A/N: let me know if you'd like to be tagged

[cerridwen007]

Hard pill to swallow.

*pics above are from pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.4k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Joel helps you fix your problem with swallowing pills.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Soft!Joel vibes, lowkey daddy Joel vibes too, Joel being a teasing, filthy mouthed menace because I said so, mentions of pills (vitamins and hayfever), mentions of gagging/gag reflex, Joel lifts reader, but Joel is huge and hella strong so he can lift anyone, cumplay, oral (m receiving), finger sucking, praise/ nicknames, swearing, no y/n.

A/N: Disclosure, this is fully self indulgent and based on my struggle with swallowing pills and me wanting Joel Miller's dick in my mouth all waking hours.  Was meant to post this before Valentines, but time got the best of me. But I suppose you can consider this my Valentines present from me to you, even though it's not related to valentines at all. I swear this is the second time that writing about my struggles in a fic with Joel, it’s pretty much solved them. He is truly that man. Quickly edited, as always, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Anyways, enough babbling, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with posts are very much appreciated, and I love yall so much. Have a good day bebes. 🫶❤️

*********

You were embarrassed, to say the least, and annoyed and frustrated. For all of your life, you could never do that one thing that was a simple skill for most people, a simple and usually essential at that. You couldn't swallow pills for the life of you. Many frustrated mornings, well into your early adult years, were spent at the breakfast table with your parents, growing more and more impatient and irritated at your ‘talent’ for not being able to swallow pills no matter how hard you tried. And It's not like you didn't want to swallow pills. No, not at all. 

In fact you wish you could, it would have made your life a hell of lot easier. You would take swallowing pills over having to grind up the assorted pills for hayfever and vitamins into your drink and being forced to intigest the horrible tasting yet beneficial substances, the ones that made your eyes water and your stomach gurgle with just how bad they tasted. 

And trust me you had tried everything, sticking the pill right down your throat, damn near breaking your neck with the force you tilted your head back (to catch your gag reflex “off guard”) nearly watering boarding yourself a couple times, thinking the more water you swallow the easier right? You felt like the oblong white tablets were just ridiculing you at this point. 

You had achieved so much in your life yet you were brought down by your inability to swallow a tiny little thing for your benefit. You had not managed to find a shortage of adults and family members alike telling you, “it's all in your head” and suggesting unwarranted advice. Advice you ended up trying over and over again, knowing it wouldn't work. “It's just like swallowing food” they would say. But you knew damn right it wasn't. I mean you couldn't even swallow gum, so how were you supposed to swallow this?!

Because of all these judgemental looks and passive aggressive comments when it came up in conversation that you couldn't swallow pills, you tended to avoid the topic of conversation completely. It wasn't till a handsome man named Joel Miller came into your life, did you finally manage feel comfortable and unjudged about your inability. 

It had been a while that the two of you had been dating, nearly a year and you had never felt happier. Recently you had moved into his place and had just unfinished packing. It was a peaceful morning in Joel’s and now your own house, the morning sun shining down, warming up the frosted green grass as the birds chirps and, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled your nostrils. The two of you sat opposite each other, drinking in the peaceful morning. This movie-like paradise was soon brought down in mood as you remembered it was time to take your daily vitamins and tablets. 

You sighed, a frown growing on your face as you anticipated yet another painful morning attempting to swallow some tablets. Joel's face mimics yours when he looks over at you from across the breakfast table. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, concerned.

You sigh before explaining yourself.

“I just..I just suck at swallowing pills and I almost always end up having to crush them into a drink or whatever I'm eating and then it's disgusting. I know I'm an adult, I should be able to swallow them by now but I just can’t.” 

You try to blink away the tears from frustration as you talk, not wanting Joel to see you get so upset over something so little and stupid.

He listens with a soft frown on his face and you half expect him to scoff at you and belittle you for not being able to do something so easy. Then he locks eyes with you and sees your watery eyes and instantly his face softens.

“Aww baby, come here.” He holds out his arms and you quickly get up walking round the table to straddle his lap, burying your face into his shoulder, seeking his warming embrace to comfort you. You look up at him, when you feel the tears aren't going to spill out.

“You're not making fun of me or think that I'm being a baby?” 

He cups your face, forcing you to keep his warm gaze. “Now what would make you think that I thought that darling?” He questions.

You feel your throat constricting as you try to explain yourself, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

“I don't know…I just thought maybe before… you were frowning cause you don’t believe me or something.” You softly respond, embarrassed over the state you're in all over some silly little pills.

“Sweetheart of course I believe ya. I was frowning cause I hate to see my girl upset and struggling, and I was trying to think of some way to help ya.”

You sigh with relief, before resting your head back on Joel's shoulder, you sit there holding each other for a while before you're interrupted by the soft rocking back and forth of Joel's chest as he tries to quietly chuckle underneath you. 

“What’s so funny.” You ask, feeling a little irritated.

“Oh, nothing.” He responds, still with a wide grin.

“No, tell me.” You say, pouting.

He clears his throat and before he speaks in a dark tone, close to your ear sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Just thought of how good of a girl you are when you suck my dick, and how you don’t seem to have a problem swallowing my cum, do ya honey?”

Your eyes widen with the sudden lewd topic of conversation, your cheeks heat up and you lightly slap his chest.

“Joel!” you warn him, but you can't help but let the corners of your mouth lift up a little.

“That's different though.” You say quietly after a beat.

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” His eyes pierced through you, waiting for your answer.

You feel your cunt fluttering at his question, your panties dampening.

“Cause…cause I actually want to swallow your cum.” You softly admit.

He breathes in shakily as a growl-like sound softly rips through his chest. His head falls back and he slowly grinds up into your needy clothed cunt. 

“My dirty little cum slut, aren't you baby?” He groans as he cups your face with his hand.

You nod and he puts his thumb on your bottom lip, slowly dragging it downwards. Your tongue shoots out to lick it before your head dips it to take it into your mouth. You start sucking on it, needily. Needing to have some part of Joel in you.

“Needy too, apparently. Just how I like ya.” He murmurs to mostly himself as he pushes his fingers in deeper and pushes down on your tongue.

Your cunt is throbbing now, but the only thing you can think of right now is taking Joel’s fat cock into your mouth. You try and tell Joel as his thick fingers are stuffed in your mouth, so it ends up coming out as a garbled mess.

“What was that baby?” Joel teases you.

“W-wanna sl-suck your c-cock d-Joel.” 

“Can’t get enough of this fat dick down your throat can you sweetheart?” Joel growls as he removes his fingers.

You shake your head, your hands trailing over Joel's strong chest and biceps. You suck on the spot on his neck that drives him crazy, his hips start lightly thrusting up into you as a result. You grin devilishly, seeing and feeling Joel become a vulnerable mess, under your control is one of your favourite sights in the world. 

You slowly make your way down Joel's body, feeling and touching on every part of him that you can, except where you and him both want too most. When your knees finally hit the floor, you look up at him with an innocent smile. Although Joel knows your the exact opposite, he can’t help his breath stuttering and his heart racing at the stunning sight below him.

You bite your lip as you look to Joel belt, his prominent bulge just below it, silently asking for permission. He nods, spreading his legs wider. You place your hands on his knees and slowly trace your hand over his legs up to his hips, your eyes switching between looking up at Joel and his bulge that has your mouth watering. 

You unbuckle his belt, slowly, loving to tease him. But taking your time and going slow seems to make you more impatient than Joel himself, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and shucking them down his thick thighs, while your mouth waters. You swallow harshly, as you uncover Joel's thick and rock-hard package perfectly framed by his black boxers. 

Reaching below his elastic waistband to pull out his cock, you find yourself transfixed once again by his beautiful cock, tip flush dark red, shaft slightly curling upwards as it heavily bobs, just begging to be sucked. Your tongue darts out to slicken your lips. Your hand carefully grasps his length, Joel softly gasps, before your thumb traces over his slit and the white drop of precum, oozing out of it. 

You grin as you lower your head, placing a few teasing kisses around his head before you raise his cock up high enough that you can lick from between his balls all the way up to his slit. He shudders above you, his hand gently caressing your hair, grounding himself and connecting himself more to you, as if his dick in your mouth isn't enough. 

You let your saliva gather to the front of your mouth before slightly parting your lips to let the warm glob drip onto his flesh. You see his thighs flex from the corner of your eye as your palm encases him, spreading your moisture all over the veiny muscle. Starting out with slow hard strokes, and building it up faster, your hand struggles to meet around his girth. 

Your mouth finally latches onto his tip, tongue swirling around the bulbous head, making Joel groan deeply. You help unleash even more depraved sounds from deep in Joel's chest when your other hand reaches out to massage his hefty balls. All this encompassing stimulation has Joel racing towards the edge, his mouth spewing out dirty words and praises as he comes oh so close to his high.

“Ugh. Fuck yeah. Atta girl.”

“Just like that baby. F-fuck me that feels g-good.” 

“Fuck… I love the feel of your hot, wet mouth on my cock.”

“Going to make my heart go out on me, with how fucking heavenly your making me feel, baby.”

He clenches the muscles in his body as he tries to starve off his release long as possible, needing to tell you something first.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I-I’m going to need you to hold all my cum in your mouth baby when I finish-h. C-can you do that for me s-sweet girl?” He chokes out.

You nod slightly and moan around him, before returning to bobbing wildly on his pulsing cock. Loving the salty, musky taste of him, your pussy clenches thinking about the even more salty and delicious load soon to be filling your mouth.

You take him as deep he will go, your eyes tearing up as your throat constricts around him. You feel his balls tighten under your hand and you let his cock out ever so slightly so only his tip is encased by your stretched lips.

And before you know it Joel’s coming, a long string of curse words and moans pouring out his mouth as he does so. Your hand continues to stroke him, milking him for all he's worth. Till he is hissing through his teeth, his now spent cock sensitive and raw. 

The urge to swallow his spend is strong, but your need to listen to and please Joel stands stronger. You keep it all in your mouth, cheeks bulging out a little with how full they are.

Joel, still breathing heavily, bends over you so he can inspect your warming checks and watery eyes, you look completely wrecked and he loves it. He hums in delight seeing you patiently sitting beneath him waiting for his next instruction.

He reaches over the table to where you were sitting before leaning down closer to you again. His thumb and forefinger reaches out and takes a hold of your chin, tilting it a bit higher.

“Did so good for me sweet girl, but I need you to do one more thing for me, okay?” He whispers, his warm and inviting eyes making you melt further into the floor.

You nod in response, watching his other hand come down in front of your face, opening up to reveal your pills. He softly demands you to open your mouth, to which you oblige, before carefully placing the few pills into your cum filled mouth.

He tilts up chin so your mouth closes and seals your lips with his thumb, before moving his hand to the side of your jaw, rubbing soft circles over your cheekbone.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to be a good girl and swallow that for me.”

You give the best soft smile you can muster with a mouth full of cum before you begin to swallow Joel’s cum in small amounts, your eyes fluttering close in concentration.

 “That's it…. Good girl. Swallow it all, baby. Don’t wanna waste a drop do ya now?” He encourages you, eyes transfixed to your throat swallowing all of his cum and the pills.

The pills going down so easily you didn't feel them shocks you, as you open your eyes to a smiling, starry-eyed Joel looking down at you softly. A wide smile mimicking his, spreads over your face, before you open your mouth to reveal it, now empty, to Joel.

He reaches down to pick you up from your armpits, placing you on his lap again. You giggle as he places lots of kisses all over your face and nuzzles his nose into yours.

“I’m so proud of you my sweet, darling girl. Did so good.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You coo back, sighing softly with relief and happiness over your achievement.

“Guess we know now how to get you to swallow your pills every morning, don't we baby?” Joel teases you, holding you close to his chest as he kisses your temple.

“Indeed we do.” You reply, giggling, before resting your head on Joel's warm and sturdy chest, basking in the love and warmth of your lover.

***********

[dandyads]

Assorted "Delay" Pills, 1937

These pills under several different brand names, advertised in an "adult humor" magazine called Laughter, promised to cure women who were late, aka "delayed" and restore their periods. These pills are are actually over-the-counter compounds meant to end pregnancy.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 6

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, needles

There was a knock on the door. The sound was sharp and sudden, shattering the stillness that filled the bedroom.

From her perch in a high-backed chair near the crackling fireplace, Lady Dimitrescu lifted her gaze, her cold, golden eyes narrowing in annoyance behind her dark lashes. Her attention had previously been focused on various documents meticulously arranged on the coffee table, papers filled with finely penned notes and small diagrams.

“Enter.” She commanded.

Sofia stepped in, carefully balancing a silver tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items.

"Set it on the nightstand."

"Yes, my Lady." Sofia responded immediately.

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes followed Sofia's movements, observing every detail with an air of detachment.

As she made her way across the bedroom, Sofia's eyes widened in surprise upon noticing your presence. However, she quickly composed herself, seamlessly slipping back into her professional role as she set the tray on the nightstand beside you.

The tray held an array of delicacies that seemed almost too perfect: golden, freshly baked croissants glistening with a hint of butter, promising warmth and flakiness with each bite. Next to them, a colorful selection of ripe, juicy fruits beckoned, their sweet aroma mingling in the air, and completing the ensemble was a crystal-clear glass of water.

Dread churned in your stomach at the sight of the glass. Your mind involuntarily replayed the memory in excruciating detail: the subtle bitterness that tainted the water, the slow, creeping numbness that spread throughout your body, and through it all, you remembered the smug satisfaction in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes as you succumbed to the sedative.

Your eyes flickered to Sofia, who stood nearby, gazing at you with barely concealed concern. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, betraying her nervousness, and her lips were pressed into a thin, tense line. Her eyes darted between you and Lady Dimitrescu, reflecting a mixture of apprehension and sympathy. Your eyes silently pleaded with Sofia to help you in some way, but you knew she couldn’t do anything. She was as much a prisoner of this situation as you were.

“You may leave.” Lady Dimitrescu said dismissively.

Sofia curtsied and swiftly exited the bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a finality, sealing you in alone with the Lady again.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a low sigh – the sound heavy with a mix of weariness and restrained impatience – as she set the documents aside.

“Alright, darling, it’s time for you to eat.” She murmured.

Rising gracefully from her chair, she moved with a regal poise as she made her way over to you. As she reached your side, she bent over at the hip, her hands sliding under your back to gently but firmly prop you up against the plush pillows. She arranged you as if you were a fragile doll in need of careful handling. Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, Lady Dimitrescu reached out for the croissant resting on the plate and brought it to your lips, her gaze fixed on your face expectantly.

You pressed your lips together and turned your head away, your body instinctively recoiling from the food in front of you. Doubt gnawed at your mind, and you couldn't shake the suspicion that something had been done to the food, if it had been pilled out or tampered with in some way.

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” You said softly, the words almost a whisper amongst the silence that followed.

The air seemed to thicken with each passing moment, the weight of Lady Dimitrescu's gaze intensifying as she observed you. You kept your gaze averted, unable to meet her eyes.

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “I understand your reluctance, darling, but you must eat something.”

The flicker of defiance in your eyes did not escape her notice, so she adjusted her posture slightly, leaning in with a subtle yet palpable authority. You curled more into yourself, trying to shrink away from her penetrating gaze, but she remained steadfast, her eyes fixed on you. The air around you began to crackle with tension. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the intensity of her stare growing sharper. The smirk on her face transformed into a thin, dangerous smile, one that instinctively signaled danger.

“That wasn’t a request,” she continued smoothly. “If you won’t eat, I'll force it down your throat.”

The menace in her tone sent a shiver down your spine, the words hanging in the air like a dark promise. Lady Dimitrescu’s smile widened, but it held no warmth. She moved closer, her presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

“You will eat, whether you like it or not.” She whispered, her voice low and threatening.

A rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through you, quickening your pulse. The memory of the bitter, medicinal taste from before flashed through your mind, and the thought of being drugged again, or worse, made your stomach churn. You knew you couldn't trust her, couldn't allow yourself to be at her mercy even more, especially not after what happened last night. At that moment, consequences mattered little; a surge of defiance rose within you, and you straightened up, shoulders squared, meeting her cool gaze with as much courage as you could muster.

“I won't.” You replied, your voice steadier now, though your hands trembled at your sides.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the sound of your own ragged breathing. Then, without warning, she lunged forward, grabbing your jaw with a grip like iron. Her fingers dug into your skin, forcing your head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes blazed with fury, a cold, unyielding anger. Her face was an inch away from yours, her breath hot and wild against your skin, carrying the faint scent of wine and something metallic.

“Open your mouth!” Lady Dimitrescu demanded.

Fear and anger battled inside of you, but you refused to back down. Gathering every ounce of your strength, you pushed against her, trying to break free from her grasp. Your muscles strained as you fought to break loose. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, yet, with each futile struggle, her grip remained firm, a silent reminder of her sheer strength and control.

Lady Dimitrescu growled, a low, menacing sound. Her grip tightened, her thumb and forefinger like steel vices pressing into the pressure points underneath your jaw, sending a sharp pain shooting through your nerves. You felt your mouth being forced open against your will, the muscles straining and twitching against the force she applied.

She then stuffed a piece of the croissant into your mouth and squeezed it close. The fresh, dry texture of the pastry crumbled against your tongue, and you could taste the buttery residue left on it.

“I won’t let go until I see you swallow that piece.” Lady Dimitrescu hissed through her teeth.

You glared up at her through angry tears. They stung your eyes and traced burning paths down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your mouth. Yet, she continued to gaze down at you, unmoved by your protest. She arched an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze, as if daring you to defy her further. The ache around your jaw increased, a persistent throb that radiated through your temples, causing your head to pound with each pulse. You balled up your fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms in a futile attempt to redirect the discomfort away from your jaw.

A condescending smile broke across Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, transforming her stern expression into one of mocking amusement. She chuckled darkly, the sound low and cold, “I can assure you, pet,” she said in a patronizing tone, “Neither the food nor the drink is laced with any sort of drug. Now, stop behaving like a little brat and eat.”

The dismissive way she spoke to you, as if you were nothing more than an unruly child, made your blood boil, intensifying the throbbing pain in your jaw and the burning fury in your chest. Unfortunately, you knew in the back of your mind that she would not let up. It was like fighting a losing battle.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to start chewing the pastry. Its soft, buttery taste mingled with the bitter bile rising in your throat. Each bite felt like a battle against the rising nausea, your jaw moving mechanically as she watched you eat, her eyes never leaving your face. Swallowing became a challenge against the hard lump in your throat, each gulp feeling like conceding defeat.

Lady Dimitrescu's smirk deepened, her eyes glinting in pleasure as you did what you were told. She released her grip on your jaw, and the pain instantly lessened, leaving a lingering soreness in its wake.

“Now, was that so hard?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly.

She turned her attention back to the tray. Her long fingers reached for the glass of water beside her, and you clenched your teeth, resisting the urge to react. Golden eyes peered at you once more, narrowing slightly.

“Do not test my patience, pet. I won't be as nice about it as before.” She warned coolly.

With a resigned sigh, you allowed her to bring the glass to your lips. You took a small, cautious sip, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, soothing your parched mouth but doing little to ease the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You waited for a moment, preparing for the worst, but nothing came.

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled at your guarded reaction.

For the remainder of breakfast, she took care of feeding you. Despite your initial hesitation, there were no lingering effects from the meal – no signs of drowsiness or disorientation. The food and drink hadn't been drugged, confirming her earlier statement.

Regardless, you still didn’t trust her.

***

Hours passed in a haze.

You were dimly aware of the passage of time, marked only by the shifting light filtering in through the windows and the occasional distant sounds from the staff echoing throughout the castle. Eventually, the light outside the window faded, replaced by the deepening shadows of night.

You stirred slightly, realizing with a growing sense of urgency that you needed to pee. The sensation grew more insistent with each passing second, pushing through the fog of your grogginess and demanding attention. You shifted, attempting to rise, but found your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The pressure in your bladder grew more uncomfortable, spurring you to try again. As you struggled to sit up, the bedroom spun around you, and a wave of dizziness made you pause, gripping the bed sheets for support. Just then, Lady Dimitrescu appeared by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder as she pushed you back onto the bed gently.

“Ah, ah, dear. You’re not going anywhere.” She tutted.

You gazed up at her and hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I... I need to use the bathroom.” You admitted reluctantly, the words felt like a betrayal of your dignity.

Her lips curled into an amused smile, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly, as if she found your predicament both entertaining and endearing. “Oh? Well, allow me to assist you then.”

The thought of her assisting you in such a vulnerable state filled you with humiliation. You could almost feel her amusement wrapping around you like a tangible presence, making your skin prickle.

“I can manage.” You protested feebly, though even as you spoke, you weren't sure you believed it yourself.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich and warm despite the slightly teasing undertone. “I’m well aware but I meant I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” She clarified, her smile never fading.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks.

Lady Dimitrescu slid her hands underneath your back and legs with surprising gentleness, effortlessly lifting you up as if you weighed nothing at all. Upon entering the bathroom, she set you down on the cool, tiled floor with care. The sensation of the tiles against your skin grounded you in the present moment, though your legs wobbled with residual weakness from the drugs still circulating through your system. Instinctively, you reached out and gripped the nearby toilet tank for support.

Lady Dimitrescu observed you with a faint, amused smile playing on her lips.

“Will you manage?” She inquired.

You nodded in response, the effort feeling more taxing than it should have.

“I’ll be here if you do require help.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned on her heel, her departure marked by the subtle swish of fabric and the resounding click of the door closing. Left alone in the quiet of the bathroom, you gathered your thoughts.

There was something seriously wrong with whatever drugs the Lady had given you. It seemed to linger stubbornly in your system, refusing to dissipate. Everything in your body felt out of sync and unreliable. Even the slightest movement sent a jolt of discomfort through your nerves, like static electricity sparking beneath your skin. The fact that she refused to tell you why she drugged you frustrated you to no end as well. It was a complex puzzle, one that you were determined to solve despite the obstacles in your path.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pulled down your pajama pants and underwear.

Wait.

Since when were you placed in pajamas?

The realization hits you like a disorienting wave. Nausea roiled in your stomach at the thought of being undressed and exposed before the Lady's eyes. With a shaky breath, you tried to recall how you ended up in these clothes, but the memory remained elusive.

You closed your eyes and opened the toilet lid, lowering yourself onto the seat. Each drop felt like a release, a small but tangible sign that you still retained some control over yourself despite everything else going on with your body. With a sense of relief, you stood up slowly and dragged your sleepwear up, feeling the ache in your muscles protesting the movement.

After flushing the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. Keeping one hand pressed against the tiled wall for support, you moved slowly, each step a deliberate effort to maintain your balance. Leaning heavily on the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image unfamiliar and distant. Lines of exhaustion were etched across your face, and your eyes, once bright, now seemed dulled by fatigue. With a shaky hand, you reached for the faucet, turning it on until the water flowed cold. Droplets splashed into the porcelain basin as you washed your hands methodically. Cupping your hands under the stream, you gathered some water and splashed it over your face, feeling the shock of cold against your skin.

Leaning closer to the mirror, you inspected your reflection once more, noting the way the water droplets clung to your skin like tiny jewels.

The bathroom door swung open just then and you jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Lady Dimitrescu entered, her towering figure eclipsing the doorway.

“Are you done?” She asked impatiently.

“Yes, my Lady.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lady Dimitrescu stepped over to you, her heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, and picked you up by your waist. She exited the bathroom with you in her arms, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as you spotted Bela standing by the edge of the bed, her expression blank.

As Lady Dimitrescu rounded the bed, your heart froze at what you saw.

Resting on the nightstand was a tray meticulously arranged with a few medical instruments. On it was an empty glass vial, a slender needle, and a thin strip of cloth neatly folded. Your mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat betraying your rising panic.

“What’s going on?” Your voice quivered with anxiety.

For a moment, Lady Dimitrescu remained silent, her gaze holding yours as she laid you back onto the bed. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. She then turned to her eldest daughter who stood silently by, her posture rigid yet composed, awaiting instruction.

“Make the preparations.”

“Yes, mother.” Bela responded obediently.

She stepped around her mother and picked up the strip of cloth off the tray. Panic surged within you as you watched Bela approach, clutching it in her hand.

“Please, tell me what's going on?” You pleaded, your voice wobbling in fear and confusion.

“Not now, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu dismissed your concern with a wave of her hand, her attention fixed on the task at hand.

Bela moved closer to you, her presence unsettling. She wrapped the thin cloth around your bicep, which you now realized was a makeshift tourniquet. You flinched away involuntarily.

“No! Stop! Why are you doing this to me!?” You protested, your voice rising in desperation.

Lady Dimitrecu glared at you, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “Pet,” she warned sharply. “Behave.”

You trembled in place, your body betraying your fear despite your attempts to stand firm. Bela stood nearby, arching an unamused eyebrow at you.

“She’s becoming quite mouthy.” Bela remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her gaze swept over you, assessing and judgmental, making you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

Lady Dimitrescu huffed in response, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “She’s been quite feisty since this morning.”

There was a note of amusement in her voice, as if your defiance was a source of mild entertainment for her. However, her smirk quickly faded, replaced by a look of irritation as she regarded you once more.

Bela reached out and grabbed your left arm with a sudden, vice-like grip. Shocked, you instinctively tried to pull away, but before you could even react, Lady Dimitrescu’s massive hand descended upon your chest, a weighty pressure that pinned you firmly in place. Her other hand wrapped around your forearm and kept it still, the strength in her grip unmistakable.

You struggled under her hold, but she didn’t even budge an inch. Your muscles strained and protested, but it was like fighting against a statue. Every attempt to wrench free only resulted in a tighter hold, her strength far surpassing yours. Lady Dimitrescu’s expression remained calm and composed despite your frantic efforts.

“That’s enough, pet,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. “You will lie there and cease your foolish struggling.”

Bela stepped forward once more and wrapped the tourniquet around your bicep. The material bit into your skin, creating a tight pressure that made your veins begin to stand out prominently. She turned around momentarily and retrieved something else off the tray. The clinking of metal on metal sent a jolt of fear through you. When she turned back to face you, her eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

Bela raised the needle, its gleaming point coupled with the glass vial attached to its back, and brought it dangerously close to the delicate crease of your elbow. The nearby candlelight lent a sinister glint to the needle's sharp tip, making it appear even more menacing against the dim surroundings. You tried to pull away, but the Lady’s firm grip on your forearm held you in place.

Your breathing quickened as the needle drew closer. Each breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, your chest heaving erratically. The bedroom seemed to shrink around you, your vision tunneling on the approaching needle.

“No…” You whimpered.

The needle now hovered an inch away from your skin, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Bela’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fleeting moment of contact that made goosebumps rise across your flesh. Her gaze was cold and calculating, cutting through the haze of fear with razor-sharp precision. Slowly, deliberately, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a cruel smile, revealing a flash of ivory teeth. Then, the needle was inserted into your skin, puncturing through one of your veins with a sharp sting. You winced, the pain a sudden and unwelcome shock that made you suck in a breath. Blood immediately started filling the glass vial, drawn by the vacuum within.

Bela's gaze focused on the vial as the dark red stream spiraled and swirled in a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic quality. As the vial neared its capacity, she removed the tourniquet in a swift, smooth motion. The sudden release of pressure caused a faint prickling sensation to travel up your arm, like tiny sparks igniting under your skin.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a satisfied hum. “Such a vibrant hue.”

Her gaze lingered on the sight of your blood with a fascination that bordered on reverence. Each crimson drop that filled the glass vial seemed to captivate her. There must have been enough blood in the vial as Bela swiftly removed the needle from your arm. The sudden movement caused a small stream of blood to trickle from the puncture wound. It ran down the side of your arm, leaving a warm, sticky trail behind. Both women’s eyes shone brighter at the sight of your blood, their pupils dilating in predatory anticipation.

Time seemed to slow as you felt the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze settle upon you like a heavy cloak. Despite the elegance in her posture and the refinement in her features, there was an undeniable danger lurking beneath the surface, a reminder of her primal nature that unnerved you.

She released her grip on your forearm just then, her fingers trailing across your skin in a lingering caress that left a burning sensation in their wake. The touch was both tender and possessive.

“We can’t allow such precious essence to go to waste.” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

She leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the bleeding spot. Her breath, warm and teasing, brushed against your skin, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, holding you captive in a moment that stretched on endlessly.

Then, her tongue darted out, tracing the path of your blood with deliberate slowness. The contrast between the cool, wet touch of her tongue and the warmth of your blood sent a shiver down your spine. Your response caused Lady Dimitrescu to moan; a deep, throaty sound that made your throat go dry. The intensity of the Lady’s reaction was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

Bela's lower lip was caught between her teeth as she observed her mother lap up the blood from your arm, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, as if she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of your blood.

Lady Dimitrescu finally pulled back once the small amount of blood was licked clean off your arm. She ran her tongue over her lips, a gesture both languid and predatory, savoring the lingering taste.

“You taste absolutely delectable, my dear.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her voice low and velvety.

Your eyes widened in both astonishment and apprehension, unsure of how to react to the odd compliment.

Bela took a moment to recover from the unexpected sight, her breath catching slightly as she composed herself. Lady Dimitrescu turned slightly to acknowledge her daughter, her expression softening imperceptibly in a rare display of maternal warmth.

“Thank you, Bela. You may go.”

“Of course, mother.” Bela replied breathlessly.

Her gaze briefly met yours before she quickly turned to leave the bedroom, the delicate glass vial full of your blood held securely in her hand. The atmosphere shifted once more as the heavy door closed behind Bela with a resounding thud. Lady Dimitrescu turned her attention back to you.

“You’ve slept throughout most of the day. I suppose you must be hungry.” She said plainly.

The casualness of her tone contrasted sharply with the unease growing inside of you.

Is she seriously going to act like nothing just happened?

You met her gaze, searching for any hint of an explanation, but found none. The answer to why burned within you, a nagging question demanding a resolution.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, “Why did you have my blood taken?”

The seconds stretched into an uncomfortable silence as Lady Dimitrescu regarded you with an unreadable look. Her eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, now seemed veiled.

“I have my reasons,” she finally replied. “I’d prefer to have you not know until you’re at a point in which I believe you are ready.”

Her response offered no solace, only adding to the growing sense of dread that coiled within you.

“Ready for what?” You pressed, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

“Enough questions. It’s time for you to have dinner.” Lady Dimitrescu’s response was curt, dismissive even.

The abrupt change in topic and tone left you reeling. You clenched your teeth, fighting the urge to scream and swear at her. Time was slipping away, each second ticking by like a countdown to an unknown fate. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you resigned yourself to the current moment.

For now, you’ll comply with her demand while figuring out your next move.

[stollengoods]

He’s a player 230

Requested Nam-gyu fluff~

Warnings: Death, cursing, mentions of: blood, bruising, and drug use.

Summary: Your boyfriend Thanos dies and Nam-gyu tries to give you his Cross necklace to remember him by, but what if you don’t want to remember him ?

P.S. The dog bread Shiba sounds very similar to the Korean curse word Shibal, that’s important for later in the story, okay enjoy💞

————

“…Player 230 eliminated.”

A shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open now as you sat up in your bed. Thanos was the last player announced dead as the men came back from the bathrooms.

You were trying to take a nap before dinner time and so now you don’t know if you were slowly drifting off to sleep and dreamed that they announced your boyfriend dead or if he was actually gone.

The men were yelling, cursing, and shoving each other. Trying to place the blame for what had happened in the men’s room. You spotted Nam-gyu in the midst of it, dazed and lost. There was specks of blood splattered on his face and jacket.

What really caught your attention was Myung-gi, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was bruised with colors of black and blue with a coating of blood covering almost half his face.

“Hey y/n.”

You gasped, flinching away from the man beside you, “Oh, fuck, Nam-gyu hey-“ You placed your hand over your chest, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He tried holding back his smirk, “My bad, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine, what’s up ?”

“Do you mind if I-?” He gestured to the end of your bed and you gave him a small smile, nodding your head.

He sat down on the bed and exhaled, “I’m sure you heared already…”

You held your breath and when he didn’t saying anything else you finished for him.

“…about Thanos ?” You said.

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on your bed, “Yeah.”

“What happened ?”

He closed his eyes and used two of his fingers to rub his eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, if it’s too hard- the last thing I want is for you to cry…”

He ran his hand down his face, “I couldn’t cry even if I wanted too.” He grumbled, letting out a fake chuckle, “I’m way too fucking high right now.”

“Oh ok… um- what did you want to talk to me about then ?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Right.” Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a cross shaped pendant. It was attached to a necklace that was around his neck.

He took it off handing it to you, “I think you should have this.”

You starred at the cross in your hand tracing the outline with your finger.

Nam-gyu bit his lip nervously, “I figured since you are the only person who knew him outside of this place and like really knew him as a person, not as a fan, you should be the one to keep it.”

You popped open the cross and was not surprised to see a different assortment of pills in it. “This is fucked up.”

His head snapped up, “Huh ?”

“Putting narcotics in a peice that is supposed to symbolize our lord and savior, that’s kind of fucked up, no ?”

He blinked a couple of times, not really sure what to say.

“I guess we know where he’s currently resting, not that I’m surprised.”

Nam-gyu just starred at you, half smiling, not sure if your way of coping was to joke around or if you were being serious. You closed the pendant with a snap and tossed the necklace back to him, one of his hands catching it against his chest.

“Thanks, but I don’t want it.”

He looked down at the cross in his hands, “Wouldn’t you want something to remember your friend by ?”

Your eyes narrowed at him, “Friend ?”

Now Nam-gyu was beyond confused, “Yeah… Thanos said you guys dated in college but broke up and have remained good friends ever since.”

You let out a humorless chuckle, “That’s what he told you ?”

“No, we didn’t really talk about anything when we were together, besides-“ He held up the cross, shaking it, making the pills rattle inside. “I overheard him tell Se-mi that one time.” He said placing the necklace around his neck once again.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, well it started off as a giggle and turned into you full out laughing like a maniac. Nam-guy’s eyes shifted from left to right, like at any minute a camera crew would come out of nowhere and say, “You’ve just got pranked.”

“Am I missing something ??” Nam-gyu asked, “Were you guys not friends ?”

You stopped laughing, “No, he was my fucking boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I just said that, in college-“

“No. Ugh.” You pinched your nose bridge, “Nam-gyu, we’ve been dating since college, we never broke up. Well I guess now we are… until death do you part right ?”

Nam-gyu’s eyebrows furrowed together as he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “That doesn’t make any sense… he’s been flirting with every girl since he’s got here. Also why would he tell Se-mi that-“

You interrupted him, “-Because he’s a fucking asshole, that why.”

“Wait. If you guys have been dating since college, which would be majority of his rap career, how come I’ve never heard of you ? Or seen you and Thanos together in pictures ?”

You looked down at your hands as you picked at your fingernails, “Because his label thought it wouldn’t be right for his branding… especially since I’m not famous, I’m just a random person.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“So you were his secret girlfriend ?”

You shook your head, “I wouldn’t phrase it that way. Everyone knew: my family, his family, our friends… it was just hidden from the public.”

He nodded his head, “And he just started acting like this when you guys got in here, why ?”

You snorted, “Fuck no. Ever since his label told him he couldn’t publicly have a girlfriend, he’s been acting like that; but I learned rather quickly that it wasn��t just an act.”

Nam-gyu’s mouth was agape, “He cheated on you ?”

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to be non-chalant about it. This asshole already pissed you off when he was alive, now that he’s dead you were no longer going to give him that power over you again.

“I’m not sure. I never actually caught him in the act, but he’d come home smelling of perfume and his lips would shine of lip gloss.” You shook your head, looking up, “He didn’t even wear fucking chapstick that lying bastard.”

“That sounds really complicated.”

You sighed, “Yeah.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on your leg in front of you. “I know you most likely don’t want to hear this, because I know I didn’t, but I’m sorry that happened to you and you deserve better.”

You looked at his hand then made eye contact with him. “I’m sorry- I was just trying to comfort- I didn’t mean-“ He pulled his hand away but you reached for it and held it in yours.

“It’s fine.” You assured him, “You’ve been cheated on ?”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip, “It’s uh- not the best feeling in the world.” He swallowed, “It led me down a really dark path.”

Using his free hand he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a popped vain, “There’s other factors that played into it and I’m not blaming her at all, it’s my doing, but I’m still trying to find the old me again.”

Your eyes were transfixed on the huge black/blue scar located on the inside of his arm. You pursed your lips as you felt your eyes gloss over.

You hated Thanos for treating you like a groupie instead of a girlfriend. You guys would constantly argue and yell at each other. Especially when he’d come back with unexplained scratches on his back and red marks on his neck you would even slap him, shove him, do anything to take your anger out on him and show him how much he was hurting you on the inside.

Nam-gyu didn’t do any of that, he internalized her wrong doing as something he did wrong. He took his anger out on himself and for that you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to comfort and be there for him.

“Nam-gyu…” You whispered.

He pulled down his sleeve, “It’s fine, that was a couple of years ago.” You looked into his eyes, they were enlarged to the point you couldn’t tell where his pupil started and his iris ended.

“You’re high right now, aren’t you ?”

He licked his lips, looking off to the side, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I had mentioned that earlier.”

You held his hand with both of yours now, “You can’t swallow poison and expect the other person to die.”

“What if it’s not the other person I’m trying to kill ?”

You looked at him with concern in your eyes, “Don’t talk like that.”

“Dinner is now being served.” The loud speaker spoke, “Please line up to receive your meal.”

You got up from the bed, still holding on to his hand with one of yours. “C’mon.”

He slipped his hand away, slouching more into your bed, “I’m not hungry right now.”

Your concern only increased, “That’s just the drugs talking.”

He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding eye contact with you. “I’m also a skinny guy, I don’t eat a lot of food.”

“Even if you’re not hungry you should still eat.” You calmly replied, “They only feed us three times a day and the portion sizes are getting smaller and smaller each day. You’ll need your strength, plus you won’t be able to eat anything for another twelve hours after this.”

You outstretched your hand, he nodded before taking your hand and standing up. You walked side by side down the stairs and lined up behind everyone else. Once you both got your food, you headed back towards your bed.

Nam-gyu took a bite of his food and then cleared his throat, “Let’s talk about something light while we eat.”

You nodded, “Okay. You start us off.”

He pointed his fork at you, “What are you going to do with your share of the money ?”

The end of your fork rested on your lips as you pondered your answer, “I’m going to get a dog.”

He grinned, wiping away food from his mouth, “A dog ? What breed ?”

“Hmm, that’s a good question… I’ll probably get a Shiba and name it Thanos, you know to honor him.” You smiled sarcastically.

It took Nam-gyu a second to realize the joke you just said but once he did he spit some of his food out laughing.

“Eww.” You giggled, “You almost got some on me.” You playfully told him, wiping the bits of food off your bed.

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to say something like that- but don’t get me wrong it was funny.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You shrugged your shoulders, “I probably shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

You tilted your head, “Okay, what about you ?” You asked.

He made eye contact with you for a second before quickly looking back at his food, a tint of blush on his cheeks. “At first I was thinking of buying myself a new gaming console, I have the PS3.” He rolled his eyes while chewing his food, “I’ve had it for years, the graphics suck ass, I need a new one.”

You giggled, “So what are you thinking now ?”

“Mmm, I’ll probably switch over completely and get the Xbox One.”

You shook your head, “No I mean, you said at first that’s what you wanted. What do you want now ?”

“Oh.” The blush on his cheeks deepened, “There’s this restaurant in the city I’ve always wanted to try, it’s not that I couldn’t afford it, I just never had anyone to go with.”

He scratched the back of his head, “Would you by chance want to go with me ?”

Your heart beat sped up a bit, “Like a date ?”

You guys made eye contact, “I mean that’s up to you, we could just go as friends if-“

“It’s a date.” You beamed.

He smiled while biting his lip, “Cool.”

You nodded your head, “Cool.” You couldn’t suppress the smile that formed on your lips.