#i'm like 80% sure this is from the office

[crystal-the-axolotl]

i’m still grieving because of chapter 277 so i made some dumb black dragon meme to distract myself from tokrev’s ending

(under the cut because i used a bad word or something and i don’t wanna offend people or whatever)

as you can see my humor is broken (and so is my art style but whatever)

[creepyscritches]

I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.

Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.

What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is

1) intricately interwoven with the federal government

2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)

3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business

4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)

The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.

Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).

The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.

Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.

I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.

I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.

The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

so like. fnaf movie. after night five, all outside observers know is "this 30yo guy with severe anger issues + his 10yo mentally ill sister just walked out of his collapsing workplace with an unconscious, stabbed police officer, saying that someone inside the building tried to kill them but we can't get into the building to check. we went to their house and the aunt who was fighting for custody of the child is dead on the floor. the guy's career counselor is missing, as is his babysitter and her family and apparently they're all dead in the building we can't get into." and like. that all looks suspicious as FUCK however we know that in the few-weeks timeskip both mike and abby seem happy and fine so it's not like mike was arrested or anything. he seems to be more adjusted and is happily talking with her teacher so i doubt he's under stress of interrogation or anything

there's a lot of implications there that mike mighta pulled something but it's all circumstantial evidence at best. i'm sure in jane's autopsy and crime scene evidence they couldn't find any evidence of mike being the one to attack her, esp since it was probably just golden freddy bopping her in the head so they dont even have the weapon, and if she was strangled they'd be able to tell it wasn't by bare hands and they couldnt get prints or anyth. especially if golden freddy is a FULL ghost and thus left no trail.

mike would be smart enough to only tell the cops what they need to know without mentioning ghosts to sound crazy. abby might be more honest with the cops just bc of #autism but they'd be more likely to consider her talking about ghosts and imaginary friends as a child's way of coping, and they cant get anything out of her that would incriminate mike. ADD TO THAT that mike has wounds that are clearly defensive and is SUPER banged up and his wounds would likely match his story way better than evidence of him attacking anyone, AND that there's likely footage and witnesses of him being in the pharmacy and then driving to work (and thus not in the area to attack jane), AND if/when nessie wakes up she'll probably vouch for mike as well, and the cops dont have anything on him

though i DO wonder if they would have records of vanessa patching him up in the police outpost. if they do, that would also back up mike's story as it's 1) far away from the aunt jane crime scene, 2) confirms that he and vanessa were working together, so either she's complicit in Crime™ or his story is accurate and she was helping him save his sister. him going to defend her instead of calling backup is also consistent with his personality of getting triggered and jumping into action around child abduction, esp w/ his sibling in danger

considering what abby would probably say, AND the history of freddy's, it's likely that they would come to the conclusion of is "someone [likely the og kidnapper from the 80s] found out that the guy working at freddy's had a sister, kidnapped abby from her house while her aunt was babysitting and tried to recreate the crimes, his story of him and vanessa defending her and escaping vaguely checks out." whether or not mike would incriminate vanessa by mentioning her dad was the killer is up in the air, and there's obviously some huge holes that are left from nobody believing that there are ghosts in the building but that would probably be the eventual conclusion

but throwing that all away, it would be really, REALLY funny if the rest of the town, being really fuckin nosy and getting into the juiciest gossip they've had in decades, took one look at michael "big teddy bear falling asleep on himself" schmidt and said "there's no way. there's no way this guy murdered his aunt, stabbed an officer and then destroyed his own workplace, especially when he really needed that job and was on sleeping medication," and then turned around to look at abby "neurodivergent in the early 2000s (ableist af time period)" "vocally hates her aunt" "doesn't talk to anyone and claims that she can see ghosts" "vaguely possessive of her brother" "claims that she found the guy who hurt her friends and got him jumped by a cupcake(?)" schmidt and said "oh my god. it was her."

and nobody's gonna directly say anything but they've got cautious eyes on the situation and someone quietly slips mike a copy of the bad seed to see if he has a realization but instead he's just like "hey this book kinda reminds of that golden freddy kid lmao. wonder how he's doin" and then we smashcut to golden freddy kid poking springtrap with a stick

[ms-demeanor]

The driving times you've given are so interesting to me because for the same distance in the uk, using all motorways so 70 mph speed limit, is 5 hours for 300 miles and 9 hours for 500 miles without traffic which is absolutely impossible.

I regularly drive 70 miles (1 way) and that still takes me around 2 hours even being 95% dual carriageway (70 limit) and 5% country roads (60 limit) with decent traffic I am exhausted by the end. I couldn't imagine ever doing that as a commute!

But I'd love to do a long drive on american roads at least once to see how it differs

Sometimes I drive like an absolute asshole so the drive from LA to Vegas (about 250 miles from my departure/arrival points) takes under 3 hours when I'm driving in the middle of the night and there's no traffic. That kind of thing is pretty easy when you leave at 1am and show up around 4am and you can do 80-90 easy for most of the drive when there's no one around on a tuesday night. 90 also doesn't feel all that fast on a wide, straight, well-maintained highway. I don't think I'd ever do 90 on, like, the 10 through Pomona where there's always traffic and lots of construction and the road is full of potholes, but on the 15 between Barstow and Vegas? For sure.

But also my 30 mile one way commute to the office takes a minimum of 45 minutes in good traffic and took 2 hours the last time I drove in. It averages about an hour on an eight lane freeway with a speed limit of 65mph. THAT is exhausting. But that's traffic, which is different than just driving, which is relaxing.

When I was taking my trip from LA to Texas, I ended up driving through large parts of Arizona and all of New Mexico; it was mid-week and we were on one of the main interstate highways (40) and there were stretches where I wouldn't see another car on my side of the highway for a good ten minutes at a time. I just looked it up and the population density of New Mexico is 17 people per square mile. The population density of the UK is 740 people per square mile. The population density of LA county is 2467 people per square mile (though California as a whole is about 250 people per square mile - the drive from LA to San Francisco takes me around 5.5 hours and is about 400 miles because a lot of the area between those two huge metro areas is extremely sparsely populated! But also I once drove from Sacramento to LA and it took me around 4.5 hours to get from Sacramento to Canyon Country (330 miles), then another 3 hours to get from Canyon Country to Culver City to the area I live in (60 miles) because I hit morning rush hour traffic).

One of the things about the US is that it's HUGE. But another thing about the US is that there are many parts of it that are very, very empty. I live in an area that is VERY very crowded, but it's relatively easy for me to get to someplace that is very empty, and really I think that's the thing that makes it different in terms of driving.

[potofsoup]

Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!

Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.

Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).

A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.

And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.

Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.

If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)

Transcript under the readmore

Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: I’m forcing Sam to take a break.

Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.

Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.

Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought you’ve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights … he’s quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how he’s OLD. And then there’s the Supreme Court’s decisions … Chevron and immunity… Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.

Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. What’s going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now it’ll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any “official” actions.

Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, he’ll be allowed to as long as it’s in his job description? Steve: I don’t think threatening state electors is “official” business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder you’re stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills don’t rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what I’m hearing is that it’s now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.

Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states — abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access… Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is “too old” and “not doing enough,” as if that is on par with Trump’s desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesn’t embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud “PFFT.”

Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: “Oh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.” In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I can’t believe he’s running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and we’re just twiddling our thumbs? He’s letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people don’t want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, it’s your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.

Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.

Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate that’s more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President… I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator… well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.

Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didn’t vote for Browder? Why didn’t you tell me? Steve: And have you say “I told you so” for the next century? Bucky: Heh.

Steve, with hand on his chin: What’s weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box can’t represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term “Zionis” that it’s made productive conversations difficult.

Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And that’s something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.

Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he can’t handle compliments: Shush, Sam.

Bucky holds up a cake that has the number “107” on it: It’s time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.

[smutallyouwant]

Twice Fic World ch.2

Strawberry Picking 🍓

80% Smut, but still have a good storyline.

Mina x Surprise Member x M Reader

A sequel to Night Club Darkness

Word count: approx. 1.9k words

Summary: Mina approached you again inside the office, and she invited you over to have some more strawberries.

Ps. This contains much aggressive stuffs than it's prequel 🔥

You woke up early today because it is Monday. You quickly prepared to go to work, and you can't wait to see Mina again. After what happened to you two, you can't take her off your mind. But there's really no communication between you and her after all of that. Just some glances and smiles, it is not an awkward smile, just a friendly smile. But you made some small talks to her in office during breaks or whenever you meet her in the office.

You arrived in the office and started to go at your block. You opened your desktop to finish the presentation due for next week.

After and hour your boss, Jihyo arrived and she told you to go with her inside her office.

" How's your presentation? " she asked in English and in her usual foreign accent.

" It is going well ma'am, actually it is faster than expected. I can finish it today and I can email it to you for your approval " you answered in Korean.

" Oh, sorry you prefer to talk in Korean. Well then " she switched into Korean.

" Make sure that your presentation will be approved by the board. We are going to Tokyo, Japan next week so be prepared "

" Yes ma'am, I assure you that we got this already in the bag " you answered.

" Quite confident, I like it. Oh well, you can now go back to your work. Thank you Y/N " she said while looking at you with a glaring smile.

You never felt awkward before while talking to your boss, but that smile and the " Thank you Y/N " that she said sent shivers to your spine. Just as you recover from the cold, you were surprised by someone pulling your wrist to the side.

Turns out it is Mina, in her cute clothes and short brown skirt. She pulled you over with a cute smile, and your nervousness was replaced with comfort.

" Hey Y/N, are you busy right now? " she excitedly asked.

" Not really, I just have one presentation to cover later " you answered.

" Will you hang with me for a bit inside ? " she asked while pointing to the office behind her.

It is a new office that is still not functional and covered with unfinished mess for construction. It is meant for a new department for the company.

" Sure, we never got a chance to hang up since last time "

After the door closed, you sat in a sofa and she sat on top of you. You instinctively hugged her from behind.

" Ohhh " she giggled as you hugged her.

" You know I can't get you off my mind, I tried to just ignore you last few days but I can't resist " she added.

" I thought I'm the only one who felt that way" you said before puting your hands on her face and pulling her so she can turn around.

She looked into your face with a grin. You hold her neck with your left arm and your other arm explores her wonderful body as you two began making out. Both of you fought for dominance and your tounge discovered every inch of her mouth. She bit your lips and started to take off your shirt. She kisses her neck and you shoved off her blue blazer and put you hands in her bare back from under her arms while you enjoys her tounge painting into your neck and shoulders. You feel your bulge growing fast, she stoo kissing your neck.

" Which nipple is much more sensitive? " she asked.

You mumbled for second because you're confused, but knowing that your left nipple is much more sensitive than the right one you didn't answer her. Instead, you grab her head and put her lips into your left nipples. He quickly gave it a huge lick and she sucked it wonderfully. You left arm began to fondle her breast and the other cupped her ass cheeks. You felt heaven as she removed your pants and gave you a handjob while still sucking your nipple. When you're pleasuring yourself you're playing with your nipple too for additional pleasure. So what Mina is doing had remained your biggest fantasy until now. You can't hide your moans from her

*slurp ~ slurp ~

" You love this baby Y/N? " she said while looking at you seductively.

" Yes baby I love it " you answered.

" No, you're my baby "

" For me both of them are sensitive, so please give them both your attention " she said while pulling her top down and fed her perky tits to your mouth.

You sucked her tit while playing with the other and you made sure to give both your equal attention. You did your best to suck them equally. While you're sucking your shaft felt wet, and you saw Mina lining her pussy into your shaft. She removed her underwear and began to ride you.

She rides you in her pace while you are making out. It stayed like that for few minutes before she came.

" Ahhh~~ baby your cock is the best " she said while she is cumming.

" ahhh ~ " she kept moaning until she can't.

She laid on you like a doll, just like that night when she fucked your cock in a dark side of the night club.

You're not done yet, so you lift her up into the wall and rammed her.

" Ahhhh~~~ fuckkk yess babyy! " she moaned almost shouting. So you muffled her with your mouth.

She wrapped her arms into you and started biting your shoulder as she reaches climax again.

" mmmhhh, ohhhh ~~ " she can't avoid slipping some moans while still biting you.

She stopped biting you when you told her you're cumming

" I'm cumming, baby let me just put you dow..."

She wrapped her legs into your waist and she whispered to your ear.

" Come inside me baby, I love your cum inside me " she whispered before liking your earlobes.

The licks sent shivers and her words made you 10 times hornier causing your cum to burst inside her pussy.

" Ahh~~ yes baby, that's it fill me with your cum mhhh~~~ " she moaned while you're cum is still pumping inside her.

You laid into the sofa while she's still on top and you made out for a minute before she stood up and began to clean the mess with some wet wipes.

" Your cum is slipping into my legs Y/N "

she said with a seductive smile.

She gave you a peck in your chicks before going out the office and straight to the comfort room. You waited for a while before leaving.

When you opened the door, you saw a dressed up new girl into the hallway. She's new so you greeted her.

" Hey what's up " you said while smiling.

" Hey " she continued to walk and did not even bothered to smile. She just looked at you like nothing.

" Who the heck was that? " you said inside your head.

You headed back to your block and you went back to finishing your presentation.

" Whoo! What a long day " you said while yawning.

It's already 6:21 pm and you quickly sent the presentation to boss Jihyo for her critiquing. You packed your things and went to the parking lot. As you open your car door you received a message from an anonymous number.

_________________________________________

:Hey Y/N it's me, Mina. Would you like to come over to my apartment for some more strawberries?

:Oh hi Mina, I'm pretty tired but a dinner would make it up. Btw how did you get my number?

:Okay Y/N I'll cook dinner for us don't worry :) and I got your number while you're deep asleep on your bed last time. Lol.

:Oh😂

:Send me your address.

:Homersan St. Block 342, apartment 301.

: I'll be on my way

:🍓🍓

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

You drove back to your home first to take a cold shower. You dressed cozily with a white top and a black night pants. You drove to her apartment and knocked on the door. No one is responding, you tried texting her but she is not responding.

After few tries , you called her and you heard her phone ringing from the inside. You're starting to feel anxious and over thought what happened to her inside. You reached the door knob and it is not locked so you quickly opened the door and rushed towards the phone. It is on a desk from the front of the television. You picked it up and stopped the ringing. You saw a glimpse of light from a room. It is dark in the living room so the light from the semi-opened door of a room beamed through the floor. You took a peak only to see two cuties lying besides each other.

Mina didn't even changed clothes, and lying besides her is a cute one too. You took a gulp and you came inside the room.

" Hey Mina, I'm here" you whispered while knocking the door.

Mina opened her eyes slowly.

" Oh hey Y/N " she answered while she sit up into the bed.

" Why are you so late? "

" Sorry I was caught in the traffic" you answered.

" Come, let's have dinner "

" Hey Chae, wake up Y/N is here already let's take our dinner " she said.

Chae sit up to the bed and looked at you

" Hey Y/N, you're so late that we got sleepy. No worries though " she said while looking into you with a smile.

Mina led you to the dining table and she reheated the pork stew that Chae cooked earlier. As Mina is preparing the table she introduced you to Chae.

" Y/N this is Chaeyoung, my girlfriend" she said.

What the freaking fuck. She have a girlfriend?????

" Hi Chaeyoung, nice to meet you " you said awkwardly while looking to Mina.

Mina almost laughed and said

" Y/N don't worry she knows. She's the one that insisted me to go to the night club that night to experience real dick " she said while looking both to you and Chaeyoung.

You're surprised as to how casual her tone is. It's like she and Chaeyoung always having conversations like this. No words came out to your mouth.

" Y/N she told me everything, just like how you like strawberries? Her scent? That's mine lol " she giggled with a smile.

" That's my perfume and maybe I taste better than Mina " she said while smiling at Mina.

" Nahhhh, I'm tasty than you are you said it yourself "

" We'll find out later " Chaeyoung answered before smiling a little.

You started eating and Chaeyoung questions casual things like what's your age, work, educational background etc.

" I'm a bisexual I have tasted dicks too but my girlfriend did not try to have dick inside her. So I insisted her to try. "

You just smiled to what Chaeyoung have said and Mina is looking at you seductively.

" She's used to toys so she's not totally virgin, but for dicks? I know she'll need it "

Chaeyoung stated.

" Turns out you're right baby " Mina answered.

" I was longing for dick too, hey Y/N let's have a threesome with my girlfriend " she declared.

The moment you heard that it's just like a blink of an eye, you just found yourself on their bed without your shirt and your pants and underwear down. You and Chaeyoung is making out while Mina sucks your dick. Chaeyoung is wearing a shorts without underwear and a loose oversized shirt that reveals the straps of her bra. Your making out so intense that you can taste the pork stew from her saliva.

" mmmh ~ mmmh ~ " mild moans came out the three of you.

Chaeyoung broke the kiss and started kissing your neck. You focused on Mina that is giving her best at sucking your dick. You gently pats her head. But Chaeyoung pushed her head to your shaft. Mina gagged and pulled out her mouth.

" Gahh! Ahhwilpsmmanw " she mumbled, a tear flowed on her left cheek.

" Go on baby, I'll teach you how to deep throat a dick " Chaeyoung said before giving a sloppy kiss to Mina.

You enjoyed the scenery of two hot chicks making out in front of you. Chaeyoung holds your dick and she held Mina's mouth so she can spit in it. She spits three times inside Mina's mouth and you felt the pleasure that Mina is showing.

" Suck his dick " Chaeyoung ordered Mina.

As soon her lip touched your tip, Chaeyoung slowly pushed Mina's head to your dick. And as your dick touched the back of her troat Mina started tearing and her eye liner is a mess and it's so hot of a scene that you placed your palm into her cheek for appreciation. Chaeyoung stayed her in that position for 3 seconds before releasing Mina, Mina then started to suck you off as soon as she catches her breath.

" Good girl, that's my baby. Suck his dick more " Chaeyoung said before pushing Mina's head again.

" Go hold her head " she ordered you to both out your hands to hold still Mina's head .

She proceeded to push Mina forcing her to take all of your dick into her throat.

" Golk, golk, golk, " her throat released sounds as Chaeyoung didn't stop.

" Yes, good girl " Chaeyoung said before letting Mina go.

Mina's face is a mess, and she almost throw up after that. Chaeyoung hugged her while patting her head.

" What a good girl you are, I love you baby" She said.

" I wuv yu " struggling to say a word, Mina answered with a smile.

Chaeyoung puts Mina off the bed and she sits her against the bed's corner.

" Hey Y/N come here " she ordered

She hold Mina's face and spits in her mouth.

" Ahh~~~ yes give me more " Mina seductively moaned.

" Hey Y/N help me, spit inside her mouth too" she said .

The idea of spitting inside Mina's mouth is so hot that you started spitting too. You opened your mouth and let's your saliva flows into Mina's tounge as she smiled seductively while looking at you.

" That's enough" Chaeyoung said.

Chaeyoung held Mina's head and looked to you while you're standing.

" Open your mouth and show your tounge baby" Chaeyoung said to Mina before giving her cheeks a peck of kiss.

" Fuck her throat" Chaeyoung ordered you.

You hold onto the bed's corner wood for support and started thrusting into Mina's throat.

" Ahhh fuck your throat is so good Mina " you moaned.

*golk

*golk

*golk

Mina smiled while her head bounces as you fuck her mouth. Chaeyoung is looking into your eye while you ram, it causes you to be much more turned on.

Chaeyoung's sight switched into your dick. She is amazed of how you're fucking Mina's mouth. She is biting her lips and gently plays her tits.

" Hey Y/N fuck my throat too " Chaeyoung said while pointing inside her mouth showing her tounge.

Without a thought, you pulled your dick and Mina's catched her breath. You pulled into Chaeyoung's hair and stuffed her mouth with your dick.

" Take this you slut" you said.

Chaeyoung smiled slightly as you ram her throat.

You're much more aggressive into fucking her mouth because you're kinda pissed that she forces Mina to do deep throat. But it's nothing to her. She even wraps her arms into your legs and followed your rythm with her jamming her head into your shaft. You can see her perky cleavage up there causing you to be much more horny. The sight of her bra straps falling off made you hornier.

*golk *golk *golk

Chaeyoung's releases slight moans while her throat gagged. Chaeyoung's a beast, you realized that as you feel your dick slipping through her esophagus slightly and it feels so fucking good that you're about to cum.

" You fucking slut, your I'll fuck your throat all day " you said

She just looked at you and smiled.

" You want to be a good girl? " you said seductively.

She nods her head while keeping eye contact.

" Then swallow my cum you bitch, slut " you said while moaning.

You came inside her and the pump of your cum goes straight down to her stomach. You hold her head a little more before letting go. She sucked you off to clean your shaft and she confidently showed her mouth that not inch of a cum remains.

You found Mina sleeping on to the bed. You gently tucked her into the bed and gave her a little kiss.

" Hey Y/N let's fuck " Chaeyoung said while her finger is on her lips. She striped all of her clothes and looked at you hungrily.

You and Chaeyoung fucked besides Mina while she's sleeping. You rammed Chaeyoung's pussy missionary style and your moans filled the air.

" Ahhh~~~ , fuck, yes Y/N "

" Fuck me more "

" Ahh~~ ahh~~ "

*Bed screeching

It's more of like Chaeyoung fucking you, as she's much more hungry for it. You fucked her in dogstyle and while she's on top of you. And on that night you came inside her twice.

You laid on their bed between Mina and Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung ended up fucking you once more, after she woke up in the middle of her sleep.

When the morning came, you found Mina out of the bed. You quickly stood up and put some clothes. You saw Mina at the dinner table and she's preparing breakfast.

" Hey Y/N thank you for coming, I hope that we can hang out like this again soon " she said.

" Yes, thank you too " you answered before pulling her for a quick makeout session.

" Sorry Mina I have to go, you know we have to go for work again" you giggled.

" Yes I packed breakfast for you though " she answered before handing the bento box over.

" Thanks again Mina, please say my regards to your girlfriend, I'll be going now " you said.

" Yes Y/N, goodbye "

You' re driving back to your home you're so tired because of what happened but you had a great sleep that you are energized today. Maybe Mina's smile is all that there is that energizes you. You wondered what was inside the bento box. You opened it while the light are red and a pancake toped with butter and maple syrup catched your eyes. Inside the other one is some strawberries sprinkled with powdered sugar.

--------------------THE END-----------------

Thank you for the support on my first ever smut everyone ( ꈍᴗꈍ).

Here's the sequel to that story. I hope you like it.

I'm expecting this story to have another sequel so please stay tuned.

Prequel story:

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (3)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4k

— 🍄 summary: the coroner of Farrow's End finally invites you into his kingdom, and you can feel more than one set of watching eyes as you continue your investigation.

— ☕ content warnings: coroner!taehyung, assistant!jungkook, mentions of murder/death/suicide

— 🕸️ a/n: meeting more of the boys!!

previous chapter ← series m.list ��� next chapter

chpt. 3: into the morgue

"Have her come in," Taehyung says over dinner.

There's a collective clang as several sets of silverware are put down.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, hyung," Jungkook replies. He's nervous around you, especially because you can see more than you let on.

"We're going to have to eventually," Namjoon adds, and Jimin sends him a mischievous, knowing look. He knows how Joon likes to watch you in the bookshop, offering his assistance at his earliest convenience, asking if you need help finding anything specific.

"It's obvious she was hired by the mayor," Yoongi says. "Though, I'm not entirely sure why."

They all know that Mayor Summerbee runs in some of the same circles that they do, but they wonder if you're aware of that fact too. How much did she tell you?

"At the very least, it'll tell us what she already knows," Yoongi says.

"And if she scares easily," Taehyung adds, suppressing a smirk.

What kind of private investigator are you? Are you motivated by self interests? Are you just here to get the job done, bare minimum? Or are you the morbidly curious type? The kind that can't stop until a mystery is solved, even if it leads you to dangerous places.

Yoongi and Namjoon already have a guess at which type you are.

"She has some kind of sight," Jungkook says, biting his nails. The real question is how sharp is that sight?

"I don't think she knows that she has it," Jin pipes in.

They exchange glances, thinking.

"Well," Hoseok says, and they all turn to look at him. "I suppose we'll just have to test it."

september 27, 2004

You've seen your fair share of coroners. Good ones, even excellent ones, and the ones who never should've been appointed to the job in the first place. Most people aren't aware that there is no national standard for coroners, some don't even have medical training.

You remember a case not too long ago when a family mourning the loss of their son hired you to investigate the circumstances of his death, which was ruled "accidental" at the time. The coroner had not had any prior forensic training, he was an OBGYN turned politician. Elected by the small-town voters (nearly 80% of coroners in the U.S. are elected, by the way), he was cushy with the local police force.

And being your naturally suspicious self, or maybe it's a side effect of your job, you pressed for a second autopsy by an examiner actually worth his salt.

The external examination alone proved that it was far from accidental. His wounds suggested severe beating, and his cause of death was suffocation from being choked, homicide not accident.

Further investigation revealed police brutality. You pushed and pushed and pushed, and after being enough of a pain in the ass (and threatening several lawsuits), they finally convicted the officers responsible.

The family still sends you a Christmas card every year, and it more than makes up for being a pain in the ass for living.

So yeah, you don't trust coroners, or their reports, until you get the chance to evaluate their level of competence for yourself. And the fact that the coroner of Farrow's End has been so resistant to your attempts to contact him doesn't bode well.

But today, the Monday following your little expedition up to the Addam's House, he's finally available to see you. Last night you received a call at around midnight, seemingly from the same young man you saw on the other side of the gate the other day.

Of course you were awake, but you wondered why the coroner's office would be up and running at such an hour. Maybe a late night emergency autopsy? It wasn't unheard of, sometimes a Sheriff will request an autopsy to be completed as soon as possible when the press are particularly bothersome and the cause of death is unclear.

You didn't get the chance to ask, because the man started rattling off about how the coroner would be able to see you tomorrow morning, and he advised that you bring any notes you might have.

Good sign, it suggests that the coroner is willing to work with you.

It's early, maybe a little too early. The fog is blanket-thick and the clouds are sprinkling down a fine mist of rain.

You take your car as far as the rocky dirt road allows, park it at the base of the hill, and trudge on through the mud, the umbrella over your head immediately collecting dew.

You reach the gate, closed like last time. When you reach for it, you're expecting to find it locked, but just as your fingers are about to touch the cold metal, the gate swings open with a long creak.

You stand there for a moment, searching for some kind of mechanism that would make it open by itself, but you find nothing but old iron forged in intricate patterns.

Whatever, you've seen weirder. You slip through the parted gates and close them behind you.

Gigantic trees, pines it looks like, envelop the perimeter of the surrounding gates, with twisting, leafless trees in abundance nearer to the house, even though fall is just beginning to dawn and most leaves haven't even begun to change color yet.

You didn't notice it before, but these leafless trees are full of crows, black tufts perched on the reaching branches. No, crows and ravens. They call out as you pass by, and you get the odd sense that every single one of them is looking at you.

The cobblestone path leading up to the front door is overgrown with weeds. The exterior of the house, now that you can see it up close, is almost decrepit. The wood is rotting, the roof is sagging, the windows are dirty and smudged.

They rent this place out?

"Ma'am!" a voice calls out.

You search for the owner of the voice, finally finding it at the side of the house. It's the young man from the other day, peeking around a brick corner. He gestures you over and swiftly disappears again.

When you turn the corner, the man is standing by a double hatch door in the ground. Not a good sign for a supposed "morgue."

He seems to read as much on your face, because then he's saying, "I would take you down the elevator inside, but everyone is still asleep."

There's a childish nervousness in his voice, and it makes you send an uncharacteristic smile his way as you step through the door and down a spiral staircase.

Distracted, you don't see the curtains twitch, and the several faces in the windows above, watching.

The passage runs deep. You emerge in a wide hallway, lined with carved wooden walls and old portraits. The foundation is clearly old, but there are newly installed fluorescent lights that don't do the original craftsmanship justice.

"How old is this house?" you blurt out, and the young man can't suppress a high, boyish laugh.

"I'm not sure, around a century, I think," he says.

Wow hard to believe it's gone untouched for so long, you think as he leads you down the extensive hallway, passing several branching doorways.

Your eyes drink everything in, curious and scrutinous. Again, the man seems to read your mind.

"It might not look it, but we have a state of the art facility here," he begins.

"Crematorium," he gestures to one door. "Viewing room. Embalming room. Autopsy room. And the largest refrigeration unit in five counties."

This place is extensive, and the further you go, the cleaner and more modern it gets.

You notice that the man is wearing similar clothing from before: a large coat (broad shoulders) and big, thick boots. Black, laced up over his ankles it appears, it makes the thud of his footsteps echo against the walls.

You wonder if they are corpse-handling boots, or merely a style choice.

"Here's the office," he says, leading you into a small but cozy room fit with a cluttered desk and a few dusty but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"You can have a seat if you like," he says, nervousness creeping back into his voice.

You take him up on the offer, sinking into one of the armchairs despite the fact that you're a little damp from the rain. But judging by the state of the chairs, you doubt it would bother them.

It's then than you realize how chilly it is down here, in this basement maze tucked under an ancient house. Damn, you're so—

"Cold?" the man says suddenly. "I'm sorry, we get quite the chill down here. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

You perk up almost instantly.

"Coffee, please," you reply maybe a little too perkily, because it makes him smile at you, exposing those bunny teeth again. Very cute.

He disappears through another doorway, into some sort of kitchenette judging by the sounds coming from it (metal banging, water running, porcelain clanking).

You take a look around. The office walls are lined with framed photos and plaques all boasting the same name: Kim Taehyung. Bachelor of Science in Biology, Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Master of Forensic Science, Embalmer's License, Medical Examiner Certification, Doctor of Medicine.

Got it, this man is learned. Good sign.

The young man returns with a silver tray in his hands. He sets it down on the ottoman between the two armchairs, grasping the black teapot and pouring fresh steaming coffee into a matching black teacup. You notice that the sugar cubes are in the shape of skulls and bones, and a part of you admires the dedication to the aesthetic.

You prepare your cup and sip greedily. The coffee is rich and strongly-brewed. Another good sign. It may not contribute to your investigation, but at least you can respect him as a person.

The young man takes the seat next to you and prepares his own cup.

For the first time since you arrived, you aren't distracted by your surroundings, and you're realizing just how strange this young man looks.

His skin is a dull shade of gray, with slight red blemishes and spots of dark purple flesh that look like deep bruises. His lips are simultaneously pale yet also tinged red, like there's blood inside his mouth. And his eyes, they look like—

The man seems to notice you staring at him, because he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and coughs awkwardly.

You blink, and his form seems to blur at the edges, becoming fuzzier and harder to latch onto. Maybe he has some sort of skin condition. But that wouldn't explain the feeling that something isn't quite right about him, something uncanny.

"I'll go see if Dr. Kim is ready for you," he says, practically sprinting out of his seat and out of the room. You hear his footsteps pounding through the halls, then hushed voices.

You being you, the debate over whether to slip through the hall to eavesdrop on their conversation does cross your mind. But you figured that even with your silent feet, they would probably still hear you rustling around in the quiet of the morgue.

A few moments later, and you hear one set of footsteps returning to the office. The young man pops his head into the doorway.

"He'll see you now," he says, vanishing just as fast. The way he appears and disappears like a ghost is starting to give you whiplash.

You follow him down the hall, entering a fluorescent-lit room fit with chrome features. The walls are lined with little doors, drawer openings, and there are several gurneys scattered throughout the room. The chill is even stronger here, this must be part of that state of the art refrigeration system.

The man standing in the center of it all is wearing a white medical gown and black latex gloves. He looks up as you enter, and—

Oh. He's young, startlingly young, early thirties max. His skin is golden tan over strong, handsome features. Dark tiger eyes, sharp and perceptive. The only indicator of his age is several tendrils of silver hair growing from the crown of his head.

"Good morning," he greets in a deep, charming voice. "Miss ______?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim?" you reply, holding out a hand.

"Just Taehyung, please," he says, taking off his gloves to shake your hand firmly, and jesus his hands are large and very pretty.

Ah, so he's not a pretentious asshole who insists on being addressed as "doctor" constantly. Another good sign. Though, judging from his extensive education, in this case it would be justified.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't see you sooner. It can get quite busy with just the two of us down here," Taehyung says.

You can't help but take another glance around the room. Only two people running this whole facility?

"I understand that you're working with the mayor?" Taehyung inquires, his casual voice good at hiding his burning curiosity.

You, in turn, are good at hiding the slight suspicion from hearing the mayor mentioned yet again. You're not sure who you're suspicious of though, him or the mayor herself.

"Yes, I was hoping I could get copies of the autopsy reports for Michael Bradley, Jarvis Laplan, and Sharon Mason."

You say it matter-of-factly, curious if they will bend at the slight flex of authority in your voice. Or, if being associated with the mayor yields certain results.

The two of them glance at each other.

"Access to Laplan and Mason aren't a problem, but Mary Bradley has requested that no further information on her husband's death be released," Dr. Kim replies, cool as a cucumber.

Your eyes widen just a bit, unable to hide your surprise. Wait...what? He would just give you the reports for Laplan and Mason, just like that? No request for credentials? No questions asked?

Truth be told, you've never gotten hold of an autopsy report after the first ask. You've always had to jump through hoops to get the right permissions and authorizations, as is the case for private investigators since they are not real police. And rightly so, the fine details of people's violent deaths is not something to be made light of, in your opinion.

Clearly your confusion is evident on your face, because then Taehyung is saying, "Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's parents are quite eager for further investigation."

Ah, so they suspect something unusual too. Hopefully they'll be more than willing for an interview.

"And Bradley...?" your voice trails off with the question.

Taehyung furrows his brows like he isn't sure how exactly to put it.

"Mrs. Bradley has had a bad experience with the press," is all he says.

You can feel your eyebrow raise.

"Is she still a suspect?" you ask, deadpan.

Taehyung is quick to correct himself.

"No, god no!" he says, eyes wide and head shaking. "His death was purely accidental, a tragedy that could've been avoided."

Your attention catches on that last part like a snagged thread on a nailhead.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" you ask, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Jungkook, who's silently watching the whole exchange, can't help but think it makes you look predatory, a hunter locked onto their target with frightening accuracy.

But Dr. Kim doesn't bend. He tilts his head ever so slightly as the corner of his mouth curves up, like he respects your drive.

"Well, Michael Bradley exhibited signs of extreme mental distress, many of them suggestive of suicide."

"But you don't think it was suicide, do you?" you say, before you can help it really, because your mind is running a hundred miles a minute right now.

Jungkook can sense it too, his eyes Bambi-wide and watching in fascination as the cogs turn in your analytical brain.

"No, I don't." It comes from Taehyung's mouth like a sigh. You don't see it (Jungkook does), but he's impressed.

"That's all I can say really," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding apologetic. "You'll have to speak with Mrs. Bradley about getting access, but talking about her husband is painful for her. And she's been through enough."

He cares about people, the ones he works on are not just bodies to him. Very good sign. You're coming to the conclusion than Dr. Kim is definitely a coroner worth his salt.

"I'll be sure to proceed delicately, then," you reply softly. You're trying to say it back. I care about these victims, this isn't just a case to me. Everyone has a story.

He seems to get it, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Something very small, almost ghostly, clicks between you.

Jungkook observes it all in a slight state of awe. He can already tell that the rest of them, his "family," are going to like you.

Taehyung gives you the copies of the autopsy reports, a sizable stack of folders and papers and photos. He even gives you a copy of the autopsy transcript.

You realize that he was prepared to give you this information before you even got here. Either Mayor Summerbee is a very persuasive person, or Dr. Kim is eager to work with you. Maybe both.

Your point is proven seconds later when Taehyung hands you a business card (with his personal number scrawled on the back), as he tells you that you're free to contact him with any questions you might have.

You profess your thanks with an armful of documents, making a point to shake Dr. Kim's and Jungkook's hand firmly.

Jungkook leads you back, his boots softly thudding with every step, and you can feel Taehyung's eyes on your back as you walk through down the long hallway.

Jungkook is kind. He offers to help you with the massive stack of documents in your arms, but you politely refuse. You've got liquid gold in your possession.

He holds the gate open for you, even offering to walk you to your car, but again, you decline and thank him for his offer.

The gate shuts behind you with a resonate clang. As you turn away from the house to begin the trek down the muddy hill, you feel an odd sensation, like tingling insects down your back.

Looking over your shoulder, you see the curtains of several windows suddenly fall back into place. Someone, several someone's, are watching you.

You can't find it in you to be creeped out, though. Something about this house, despite its run-down appearance, is welcoming. Beckoning, even.

It's dark and old and practically falling apart, but many things that you love also happen to have those same traits.

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you turn and make your way down the path. You'll have to find out more about this place.

"Again. She saw through my glamour again," Jungkook announces to the room, sounding slightly defeated.

"Don't worry, Kook. It's a solid spell, I checked it myself," Yoongi replies as he waters one of the endless houseplants adorning their home. Thanks to Yoongi himself, of course.

"She saw through mine too," Taehyung says, resolute. He's staring at the black and white checkered floor, deep in thought.

Everyone looks up at that.

"That proves it then," Namjoon says. "She has a heightened degree of sight."

"I wanna know why though," Yoongi interrupts in a sudden bout of passion. "She's human. Why is she able to see everything?"

"Not the house though," Jungkook blurts out. "The glamour on the house held up."

"Of course it did, the house magick is stronger than any of us," Jin quips from the kitchen, standing over a sizzling stove.

"Lots of humans have the sight," Jimin says lazily, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs.

"Yeah, but it's the type of humans who turn it into a cheap gimmick," Jungkook replies, pacing around the room now.

Taehyung crosses the distance between them in a few strides, putting a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The younger man looks up at him, then lets out a breath and returns the smile.

"You're safe, Kook," Taehyung says softly. "No one's gonna put up a fuss."

Jimin chuckles. "She might."

Taehyung throws a scolding glance over his shoulder. "A real fuss, I mean. Everything's been kept under wraps so far."

"And she's not a phony, or a leech. The mayor made sure of that," Yoongi says.

"In any case," Jin begins, an authoritative edge to his voice. "Hoseok said to keep an eye on her, so that's just what we'll do."

september 28, 2004

You may be a damn good investigator, but you're no med student. So the next day you set out to the bookstore, determined to understand every last term and phrase in the autopsy reports.

The same man is behind the desk, but this time he's bent over a typewriter, clacking away. You can't help but observe him for a moment, watching as his dark eyes dart over the page, the way his glasses rest at the edge of his nose like a wizened old man.

"Welcome in," he calls out at the chime of the bell on the door, like an instinct.

You take a few steps into the ever-crowded space, your eyes shifting over all the things you missed the last time you were here. Because that's what kind of place this is, somewhere you could go a hundred times and find something new each visit. Places like this are quite dear to you.

You're about to examine a shelf full of perfectly preserved beetles, when you sense the man look up at you.

"Oh," he says, like he's pleasantly surprised. "It's you."

And you would be lying if you said it didn't make your gut feel something warm squirming inside it.

"Need help finding anything?" he asks, like he has every time you've visited this place.

"Yes, please," you reply, barely hiding your smile.

He leads you through the maze of shelves like it's a map of his own brain. Several times you have to hurry to catch up to him in his excitement.

Soon your arms are occupied by an impressive stack. Anatomy, general medical knowledge, crime scene identification, even a few textbooks on post-mortem examinations.

To you, it's more liquid gold. You profess your thanks to the bookshop keeper, dropping a generous tip into the jar when you go to checkout. Again, the books are almost too reasonably priced. Not that it matters, since research purchases are an easy business expense ride-off.

Just as you turn to leave, the man clears his throat awkwardly, like he's building himself up to speak.

"There's plenty of places to sit here," he almost blurts out. "Lots of cozy nooks. Perfect for...research."

You pause at the door to glance back at him. You find him watching you closely, his expression somewhere between innocently curious and suggestive of hidden knowledge on his part.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply, a little teasing lilt to your voice. Because clearly he enjoys your company too.

Then you turn on your heel and let the door swing shut behind you, leaving him wanting more.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would combust with joy if you'd tell me any of your thoughts :D

NEXT UPDATE: 05/25/24

[roosterforme]

Don't You Want Me, Baby | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was like a fairytale, the way you stole Bradley's heart with your gorgeous face, retro denim jacket, and karaoke skills. But when you disappear into the night, leaving only one small trinket behind, he's left wondering if he didn't just dream you up. 

Warnings: Fluff, swearing and karaoke

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley's favorite thing about '80s throwback nights at the Hard Deck was seeing how his friends dressed for it. Nat usually went with neon spandex. Bob had a vintage Nintendo tee shirt. Jake found a windbreaker and matching pants at a thrift store. Even Penny got in on things by wearing a hideous blazer with enormous shoulder pads. 

But Bradley just wore what he always did: one of his dad's tropical print shirts from circa 1983, his snug Levi's, and his slick mustache. 

When he arrived at the Hard Deck, he realized that his least favorite part of this kind of night was the fact that he was always the odd man out now. He'd been single for such a long time, and it didn't usually bother him. But the way Javy had his arm around Nat, and the way Bob's girlfriend was making him blush... well, Bradley was starting to feel like he was missing out. 

Nat handed him a beer as soon as he strolled up to the bar. "I can't decide if it's funny or sad that you don't even have to try," she told him, eyeing him up and down. 

"Says the woman wearing a neon pink jumpsuit? What even is that thing?" he asked, gesturing to her outfit. Frankly, it was scary, but Javy seemed to like it as he kissed Nat and whispered in her ear before he walked away, turning to look at her several times. 

She rolled her eyes and told him, "It's '80s workout attire! I'm going to sing the song Physical for karaoke, and I thought it would be fun to match the theme. You, on the other hand, wore the same thing the other day when we went out for pizza. You live in the '80s my friend."

"Whatever," Bradley grunted, sipping his beer. 

"Rooster, did you sign up for a song yet?" Fanboy asked him, jerking his thumb to the karaoke setup in the corner. 

Just as he was about to reply, Nat smirked at him. "How about I pick a song for you?"

Bradley just shrugged. "Sure." He liked singing. He was pretty good at it. And with tonight's theme, he'd know all the lyrics even without the video prompt. But he didn't like the smug look on his friend's face as she strolled away in her hideous pink outfit.  

He sipped his beer. There were a lot of people here tonight that he'd never seen before. It was usually the same Naval officer crowd every weekend, so this was interesting. And there were a lot of cute girls with their hair all teased and hair sprayed wearing things that made Bradley smile. 

Then his eyes caught on a denim jacket and a mini skirt on the cutest girl he had seen in a very long time. "Oh," Bradley gasped, finishing the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle down on the counter. You turned to laugh at your friend who was behind you, but your eyes caught on Bradley's, and he started stumbling through the crowd in your direction.

Then the DJ in charge of karaoke night called up the first singer, and the crowd closed in on the stage. "Shit," Bradley muttered. He lost sight of you amongst the too bright neon strobe lights. The song Sunglasses at Night started blaring, and Bradley couldn't find his friends either. The more he tried to shove through the crowd, the more dirty looks he got. 

Two more singers performed terrible renditions of songs that Bradley used to like until he heard them here. He figured you must have left, because he couldn't see you anywhere. With a sigh, he leaned against the back wall. And then Nat was there, pressing another beer into his hand. 

"Why do you look so pissy?" she asked over the music. 

He just shrugged and rolled his eyes at himself. "It's so dumb. But I saw the cutest girl, and then she vanished...."

There you were, not far from the DJ booth. You were dancing along to someone butchering Billie Jean. Bradley could barely see you through the crowd as he smacked Nat's arm. "It's her. Denim jacket. Little skirt. Fucking gorgeous face."

"Go talk to her," Nat told him with a grin that made him a bit nervous. 

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he asked, looking for the best way to get over to you. The way you were dancing and laughing had Bradley smiling as he squeezed past Bob. 

When you spun in a slow circle with your friends, you froze, eyes meeting Bradley's again. This time you bit your lip and waved to him. 

Bradley laughed and mouthed, "I'm coming." He watched as you pressed your lips together and ducked your face down.

"Hurry up!" you called when the song ended. 

Bradley was about to start throwing elbows to get as close to you as possible. Then he heard his name.

"Rooster is up next! Where's Rooster?" called the DJ. 

Bradley let his head tip back as he groaned. He waved to the DJ and then winked at you. "Sorry," he mouthed as he smiled at you. 

You smiled and shrugged and that's when the DJ announced, "Rooster is singing that iconic song from Dirty Dancing, I've Had The Time of My Life."

He turned to glare at Nat where she stood against the back wall. "You picked a duet, you jerk! I can't sing that alone!"

But his attention snapped away from Nat when he felt your hand on his arm. You had managed to close the distance to him, and Bradley met your eyes as you let your fingers glide down his arm until they met his hand. 

"I'll sing with you, Rooster."

Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you led him up to the stage as the bar was filled with applause. Bradley took the microphone from the DJ. You and he were going to have to share it, and he didn't mind that one bit. 

"Ready?" Bradley asked you, keeping his flingers linked with yours. 

"Let's do it." 

Bradley nodded, signaling they were ready to sing, and when the music started, you smiled up at him. He missed the first few words as his heart pounded, scrambling to pick up the lyrics as you giggled. 

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before. Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

Then when it was your turn, Bradley was hypnotized by your voice. He could come up with about a hundred more duets he was dying to sing with you. Either here at the bar, or maybe back at his place. Maybe you'd let him have your number. 

He missed his next line again, completely distracted by you biting your lip and holding the microphone for him. "Shit," he said with a laugh, finally getting back on track again. But you seemed to know you were the reason he was distracted, and he could tell he was blushing. 

And when it was time to sing together, your voice blended perfectly with his. 

So we take each other's hand, 'cause we seem to understand the urgency.

And then you started to dance with him a little bit, just a sway of your hips, but Bradley moved along with you. It was perfect, the way you shared the microphone with him. The way your smile made the song even better. The way you laughed at the end when Bradley's face was close to yours and the room erupted in loud applause. 

"Thanks for bailing me out," he told you as he handed over the microphone. 

"You're welcome, Rooster," you told him with a smile that made him want to taste your lips. Then you were slipping your hand free from his as your friends called you over. You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley turned back to the DJ while another singer took the stage. 

"I need you to let me sing again," Bradley told him. 

"One song per person, sorry."

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled fifty bucks out of his wallet. "One more song? Right after this one?" 

And then, just like that, Bradley was signed up. When he turned your way, you were already looking at him, challenging him to make a move. 

"Excuse me," he said, encroaching on your friend group and holding out his hand for you to take. "But, my friend accidentally signed me up for another duet. Think you can help me out again?"

You slipped your hand into his and smirked. "Really? It looked like you signed yourself up this time."

He shook his head and pulled you closer to him. "Nah. Just a trick of the lighting, I think. It was definitely my friend."

Your laughter had him reaching his free hand gently around your waist, tucking it inside your denim jacket.

"That's a cute mustache," you told him, reaching up to touch his lip. "Did you grow it just for tonight?"

Bradley shook his head. "It's a permanent fixture."

"Oh, even better."

Bradley was thinking about it. He was going to do it. He was inching closer, ready to kiss you, when the DJ called his name again. "Rooster, you're up for an encore!"

The room erupted in more cheers as Bradley led you up to the stage, hand still at your waist. 

"Which song is it?" you asked over the applause, your lips next to his ear.

His smile grew as he promised, "You'll know it."

Then Don't You Want Me started playing, and you laughed as Bradley danced around on the stage, singing just to you until the chorus when you joined him. Your perfect, smiling lips were so close to his as you both sang "Don't you want me, baby! Don't you want me, ohhh!" together. 

And then he let you have the microphone for your part, and your voice sounded even better than the original song. He let his voice blend with yours again and again, but then too soon, the song was ending. He briefly wondered if he could get away with bribing the DJ for just one more song with you. 

He had the microphone in his hand, about to check if he had more cash in his wallet, when you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Right in the middle of the stage. Right in the middle of the applause and the neon lights and the DJ introducing Nat as the next singer.

Your lips tasted as sweet as you looked, and Bradley almost dropped the microphone trying to get his arms around you as well. You kissed his lips softly and then laughed before you let your lips skim over his mustache. 

"I had fun, Rooster," you whispered over all the commotion as you stepped off the stage with Bradley in tow. When Nat snatched the microphone out of his hand with a wink, you took his hand in both of yours. 

"Think they'll let us sing another song together?" he asked, watching the smile on your lips as you took your denim hair scrunchie off your own wrist and pushed it over his hand. He looked down at his left wrist, now adorned with it. "What's this for?" he asked with what he was sure was a dopey grin.

"Keep it, Rooster," you said, but suddenly your friends were there, slowly pulling you away from him. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, his heart lurching as he ran his fingers over your scrunchie and tried to follow you. But the crowd was closing in on him, everyone going wild for Nat singing Physical. "I don't even know your name!"

You called out to him as you blew a kiss, but he couldn't hear you. He shoved Javy out of the way, trying to get to you again. As the crowd thinned near the exit, Bradley ran outside after you. But you were gone. There was no sign of you or your friends. All that was left was your scrunchie, the songs stuck in his head, and the feel of your lips on his. 

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

"I imagined her," Bradley said for the sixth time at work on Monday. "She was perfect, but she wasn't even real." He was stretched out on the couch in the aviators' lounge with your scrunchie in his hand and a pout on his face.

"She was real, Rooster," Nat told him with an eye roll. "We all saw her. We all saw her kiss you before she left. Maybe it was your choice of song? Maybe she didn't want you, baby?" she asked with a devilish smirk. 

Bradley launched the scrunchie at his friend's face, making her squeal. But then he was up off the couch immediately, running to collect his precious souvenir from the ground before anything happened to it. He balled it up in his hand and tucked it into the pocket of his flight suit. 

"It would be impossible to find her again. I don't even know her name," he mumbled, kicking his foot along the floor as he sighed. "She was just..." He was thinking about your voice as you sang and your pretty face and your vintage denim jacket. "Perfect."

Nat took a step closer and patted him on the chest. "There has to be some way... Oh!"

"What?" Bradley asked, meeting her bright eyes with his hopeful ones. 

"There would have to be other '80s karaoke nights around San Diego," she said quickly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Bradley's heart filled with hope as she said, "We could go to them, and maybe she'll be there."

"Nat. You're a genius."

When Friday night rolled around, Bradley picked Nat up in her hot pink spandex, and they drove to a bar in Oceanside where a throwback night was in full swing. 

"See her anywhere?" Nat called over the loud music. 

Just then someone started singing Don't You Want Me. Bradley's heart leapt. But it was a guy with a terrible voice and a girl who wasn't you. 

"No," Bradley groaned, his heart full of frustration. "She's not here," he confirmed after walking through the entire bar. 

And the following night, Bradley and Nat went to a bar in Balboa Park, ready to search for you again. They walked into a room full of people dancing around and singing to a Bon Jovi cover band. 

After looking everywhere, taking his time to search the crowd, a dejected Bradley shook his head at Nat, and she followed him back outside to the Bronco. 

The following Friday was no better as they hit up a club downtown. After they had no luck there, Nat told him about another karaoke night in Pacific Beach. 

"This is it, Nat. This is the last one," Bradley told her, glancing at your scrunchie on the shifter as he drove. "If she's not here, then I need to stop looking."

"But, she could be-"

"Nat, come on. I've been like this for two weeks. I can't stop thinking about her, which is absolutely ridiculous. We sang two songs together, and then she bailed. I'm starting to think that even if I do find her, she's not going to remember who I am!"

She sighed in the passenger seat, and said, "I really hope she's here, just so I can see you proven wrong."

So Bradley searched the bar for you while he listened to so many bad singers in a row. He felt desperate now, knowing there wouldn't be another chance after this. And every time a denim jacket and a cute face caught his eye, he did a double take. But you weren't here either. The search was off now. 

"Let's go," he told Nat, swallowing hard as he headed outside. And then he tossed your scrunchie into the center console, started up the engine and left.

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

"Come on," whined Nat, pulling on Bradley's arm. "I'll be fun!" Bradley was trying to head home after working late on Friday, but she wasn't going to let him.

"I don't feel like going to the Hard Deck tonight." He just wanted to go home, relax and pretend like he didn't still have your scrunchie in his pocket half the time. 

But she stomped her foot. "No. You've been pouting. Javy, Bob and Jake are already there. We're going."

Bradley groaned and agreed to follow her to the bar to have exactly one drink. But when he walked in and realized that it was set up for karaoke, he turned to try to sneak back out.

"There he is!" Nat called, rushing forward to grab his hand before he had a chance to leave. "You promised. One drink."

"Fine," he grunted, sitting at the bar with his back to everyone else who was rushing up to pick a song to sing. And when Penny handed him a beer, he drank half of it in one sip, trying to finish it as quickly as he could. 

When he was done, he reached into his pocket to get his wallet, pulling out your scrunchie at the same time. He shook his head, ready to toss it into the trash can behind the bar. But then he heard the opening chords of I've Had The Time Of My Life start playing. He'd been listening to the song nonstop for weeks, and when he spun to face the stage, he saw you. In your denim jacket. 

"Rooster!" You had the microphone held up to your lips, and you were calling out to him. 

"It's you!" he called back, trying to make his way through the crowd to get closer as his heart pounded.

"It's me," you told him with a bright smile. "Looks like I accidentally picked a duet as soon as I saw you. I need a partner. Are you available?"

He pushed his way through the crowd and jumped up onto the stage. "Yeah, I'm available." Then your hand was grabbing the front of his shirt, and his lips met yours. The crowd was screaming and cheering as you smiled against his mouth. 

"I thought I dreamed you up," he told you, resting his forehead against yours. "Like a fairytale Princess in a denim jacket. Please don't leave this time."

"I won't," you promised, kissing him hard before turning to the DJ and giving him a thumbs up. When the song restarted, Bradley took the microphone and sang to you. 

Now I've had the time of my life. No, I've never felt like this before. 

Yes, I swear it's the truth, and I owe it all to you.

And then he opened up his hand, showing you that he still had your scrunchie. You gently took it as you smiled up at him in surprise, and then you slid it onto his wrist before taking his hand. But after that song, Bradley didn't even bother trying to bribe the DJ for more, because he had you in his arms, your name on his lips, and your phone number saved for later. 

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

If your man won't search the kingdom for you and then turn to a pile of mush when he finds you, then he's not the one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[seat-safety-switch]

One of the most confusing experiences of my life was when I was briefly working for that billionaire that got killed. I can't remember his name either. It keeps happening, right? Isn't that weird? In this case, it wasn't weird at all.

When all of it started, it was the usual kind of thing. My secretary got a call about a potential new client, and he came running into the workshop. Now, you have to understand two things: I like to work on my own, and I like to work with absolutely no interruptions. In particular, I especially do not deal well with surprises. I didn't fire him, because I think that "firing people" is a concept of the old, dead world of work. However, I think he knew that what he had done was wrong. And when his eyebrows grow back in, I'm sure he'll look appropriately contrite.

Turns out the client was an eccentric billionaire. He wanted me to hunt down a Plymouth Belvedere that had belonged to his grandfather. There was a considerable chunk of cash involved in it, and of course my per-diem was negotiated to be fairly close to my mortgage payment. I left immediately for the Inland Midwest. Yeah, that's a new name for me, too. Ever since the United Nations occupied Iowa, we've not been allowed to use the slur "Flyover Country" to refer to it anymore. That, and the surface-to-air missile batteries stationed at the border, are probably why my client didn't want to search for himself. Didn't stop me – I snuck in the back door, by driving down the interstate at a remarkable rate of speed in a clapped-out Dodge Dakota, just like the locals do.

Did I find the Belvedere? Absolutely not. It's folly to think that you could locate an individual car, even with my remarkable powers of shitbox deduction. Based on sampling the dirt (by taste, I'm not some kind of weirdo) I determined the 100-kilometre range in which it had once existed, but it was long gone. Likely pushed into the crusher sometime in the 80s.

This was not what my client wanted to hear, and he hired, on the spot, many functionaries to scream at me on his behalf. That contract was iron-clad, though, and I took my cash and left his endlessly-undulating office tower made entirely of seamless, perfectly-reflective mirrored glass. Temporarily made insane by sheer proximity to this much wealth, I immediately put the money into the stock market, and lost it. Turns out that the market responds poorly when one of their own is hit by an Iowan intercontinental ballistic missile. They had finally tracked down where I had parked that Dakota after raiding their strategic stockpile of Weber carbs on the way home.

I had to buy another car to get home, and it turns out that there was a pretty sweet Belvedere for sale nearby, not even two blocks from the smoking crater containing the singed molecules of the billionaire. Lucky find!

[frogchiro]

hi me again i know its not eremites but my brain has been HAAAUUNNNNTEEED by omegaverse and COD i just know for a fact Ghost n Price share a role as "leader" of the pack, more Price than Ghost (warrior cat brain: DEPUTY GHOST *WACK*) and yes the entire pack takes care of their sweet omega but they feel the most weight of keeping her happy n healthy :<< Ughehrgrgrgrr Ghost is a silent lover, (this can really apply for annnnnyy au im just barfing my brain out here) brushing your hair out of your face as you sleep, cheek smooshed against your pillow. Oh my god you know that man would invest in silk pillow cases if you mentioned that silk is better for your skin n hair. That one stuffie you can't seem to sleep without, it never seems to get dirty, you don't think much of it. That's cause Ghost brushes it out for you, making sure theres no limp neck syndrome either (basically the fluff gets separated from body n head leaving none for neck) mention that you like a certain snack? or found a childhood snack you had but could never find after a certain point? at least 5 of them in the cupboard, 2 if they come in big packs.

John loves to spend time together with his sweet girl, he doesnt often have the time for it but when he does he loves to savour it. Loves Loves Loves being able to have you on his lap, a cigar in one hand, the other on your waist and a whiskey on the table next to his recliner. Memorizes your routine, if you have somewhere to be that you have to wake up for, he wakes you up, very gently. Kisses against your shoulder, traveling to your face. Kissing your cheek before turning you onto your back, just admires your relaxed face before he whispers your name. ASS!! GRABBER!!! grabs your ass, sure here n there he'll greet you with a gentle spank but he. grabs. ASS. He memorizes your coffee order too!! He may tease you a bit if it something like, 80% cream, 12% sugar and 8% coffee but still. sniffle snorgle so sorry for the long ask snifhghgrngr i love them. and i LOVE your blog, been following for a super long time, found you from pierro tags and just been obsessed. Take care of yourself okay?? MWAH (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

AHHHH THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS DARLING *MWUAH* I'm really glad you like my humble little blog so much and stick around for such a long time <3

I'm gonna go with omegaverse with these again bc I'm obsessed :<

And yes yes you're right!! Alpha Si is a silent lover but he's so expressive when he wants to be! If you're close enough you'll see all the little things; ticks, micro expressions even with the balaclava and/or mask, the little noises like chuffs or rumbles, everything! It's like a whole new world opens up and that's when makes being mated to Ghost beautiful <3

And he can be surprisingly clingy and touchy too! Definitely not right from the start but give him time and soon you'll have a 6'3 baby clinging onto you. What he may lack in verbal communication he compensates with physical affection and little noises; he will literally purr like an engine and make little chirrups in answer to your own as you nuzzle and preen each other in your nest.

Another thing about him are his surprisingly strong nesting instincts! He never really got to make a nest, or rather felt safe enough to do it. With his past, his father who always mocked him for nesting it never felt right until he got with you. Will take up the whole bed and literally roll in it so it's covered with his scent and pheromones and let out a pleased rumble when he finally deems his den good enough and safe before dumping you in it <3

Alpha!Price on the other hand loves quality time spent with you <3 He's much more verbal with you than Si and is quite touch himself in the privacy of his office or den, will always try and keep a hand on you and never let you out of his sight. He's the oldest of the alphas, much more mature and secure in his position as head alpha but will bellow and growl like crazy if he went out for a second out of the den to check up on something and upon returning he notices that you're not there anymore only for you to return from the bathroom confused what's all the commotion about.

Would never admit it out loud but he loves loves loves scenting you! Especially if you're on base with him. John has a strong masculine smell that screams 'ALPHA' in the most pleasant way; will make you go weak in the knees just from a whiff <3

Likes to rub on you when you're laying in your nest at night, his face shoved right into your scent glands and your delighted giggles bring him immense joy as he tickles you with his beard <3

[theswanqu33nsblog]

Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer!

Warnings: mention of p and v, kind of agressive, sex in public, very vulgar language.

Whatever and it didn't matter, you were in the back seat of the car of a police officer, or rather good-for-nothing Colin Zabel, a detective who hasn't had a case since...he was almost murdered in Easttown. And you knew that whenever he arrested you you would get out the next day, or that maybe it would be your last day enjoying your freedom.

It was late Friday night, Colin had arrested you because you accidentally (not actually) stole a perfume from a hidden store in the city, you thought there were no cameras but oh surprise! Detective Zabel always had the area monitored. So you were in the back seat, and a safety gate so you wouldn't try to attack Colin while he was driving, singing some stupid song from the 80s.

"ya' know, you should have known that I'm everywhere y/n" Colin said as the radio continued playing the music in the background, while one of his free hands was tapping his knee to the rhythm of the song. "I mean, I think I've counted the number of times I've arrested you this last month."

Colin laughed, thinking it was a great joke, perhaps to impress you or perhaps to make you understand that behind that tough detective facade (which he was not) existed a good and funny man... although it always went wrong.

"i could care less" You said rolling your eyes and looking in the rearview mirror where he saw you, he chuckled and raised his eyebrows.

"yeah, i already know that..." Colin said, taking even a slower route to the station, somehow he enjoyed talking to your snarky and sass attitude. "Hey you know, the other day..." he started to speak but you interrupted him again.

"i said, i literally don't care" You repeated, looking at him again, he raised his hands in surrender while his feet controlled the pedals of the car, and in his failed attempt at being a good person he almost ran over a cat, causing him to put his hands on the wheel and swerve the poor little animal.

"You should relax your temper a little, you know? I'm just trying to do my job," He said as he got back to driving well and then clenched his jaw a little. After a while, he felt a slight discomfort in his pelvis informing him that he couldn't hold back the urge to pee. So, parking the car on the side of the road and turning off the engine, he looked at you and then said "I'll get off for a few seconds...I have to make a call, don't get out of the car or you know what's happening to you."

He looked at you for a few seconds and when he saw that you nodded, confused that you had paid attention, he got out of the car, closing the door behind him, he left but then he came back looking at you through the window, which made you raise your eyebrow. "I'm sorry, making sure you listen to me."

He smiled and then went behind a tree, while you tried to see what he was doing there, because clearly, not a call, because the idiot left his phone in the car. Colin unbuckled his seatbelt a little quickly, not being able to resist the urge to pee, this would have been easier if he were going to a gas station but he couldn't risk you running away and getting a quick taxi, at least here in the middle of the nowhere. Everything would be difficult for you to escape. Then he unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper, and then lightly pulled down his boxers, taking out his member and taking it with both hands, looking for some direction to point to to pee, well, if he peed in the tree he would be like a dog and he doesn't want to mark territory...that would be strange. Meanwhile, you, amid all the movement he made in that tree, were able to see what he was doing, just his ass on full display and that was enough for you to smile and try to contain your laughter.

Finally determined, Colin began to pee in the grass, moving his hips and drawing a smile in the dirt with his urine, then he frowned when he realized what he was doing and looked away concentrating on peeing. You kept watching what he did, a slight movement and that was enough to steal a glimpse of his dick, to be honest you always wondered what he was hiding under those black pants every time he arrested you, So when he moved, you could see enough, a good sized dick and veins decorated it, Colin's hand squeezing it as he shook it after he finished peeing, how could such a stupid action turn you on in seconds? Maybe it was because you were ovulating and starved for sex and it didn't even matter if it was casual. Colin fastened his pants and belt, wiping his hands on his pants and running back to the car, sitting in the passenger seat and closing the door behind him, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Damn it's...hot out there" he said letting out a sigh, the smell of his perfume again invading the police car.

"You were peeing right?" you asked even though it was already obvious, he was going to ask you how you knew but you interrupted him "you left your phone here."

"yea' right"

He let out a light laugh and then both stayed silent, he looked at you in the rearview mirror, although in fact he was looking at your breasts in that long-sleeved shirt you were wearing, weren't you wearing a bra? Damn, your nipples were noticeable, something that made his pants start to tighten. He cleared his throat, putting his fist to his mouth and then said. "I uh.."

"You have a big cock" you said, being completely honest, you loved intimidating people although you didn't know exactly when, he looked at you with a wtf face trying to process that.

"alright, thanks....???" He said, with a light blush on his cheeks, then he ran his veined hand over his forehead and hair, pulling it a little with his fingers and then he said. "Hey, I've never understood why girls don't wear bras under their shirts, is it fashion or...?"

When you heard that, you didn't hesitate to laugh, sure sure, he had seen your tits.

"it's comfy" you smirked, and then it occurred to you to shake your breasts, making his eyes open completely, and then he would turn around to see you in full display. He lightly licked his lips watching your breasts bounce when you finished doing that, then looked into your eyes swallowing quickly.

"why did you..." He trailed off

"because it's sexy, isn't it?" you said, speaking softly, and leaning into the protection that separated both from back seats to front seats, your face close to his between the holes.

He just didn't think, he just nodded, it had been a long time since a girl had acted that way around him, in fact, since his fiancée abandoned him at the last minute. "How can you know if I like that? or if someone is okay with doing that in front of an officer" he asked you, looking at you between the holes, speaking softly and with a thick voice.

"All men love that" You whispered with a slight smile, looking at his lap he noticed a tent forming in his pants, great. The only thing missing was being turned on by a girl that he had to take to lock up that night.

He just, got out of the driver's seat, took out his keys opening the door where you were, almost pushing you aside roughly so he could get in back there, then he closed the door and put the keys in his vest. He looked at you, and sighed saying. "It's sexier to do it when you're handcuffed."

You could only smile at that, feeling your belly tingle and your panties slowly getting wet at that, looking at him closer, you could notice his prominent jaw, those fucking brown eyes looking at you as if he wanted to take you as fast as possible. He quickly laid you down on the back seat, getting on top of you, and kissing you slowly on the neck, shit it felt so perfectly good that if you had your hands free you would undress yourself in front of him. His hands slowly caressing your hips, and slowly entering your shirt while you couldn't do anything but close your eyes and gasp wishing you could touch him again.

"shhh" you felt the soft tickle of his breath in your ear, making you bite your lip in anticipation, as then his perfect nose slid over your cheek to your lips, and then slowly kissing your bottom lip, his hands moving up inside your shirt. until he touched the curves of your breasts without a bra, squeezing them from below while he kissed you. Two fingers of his right hand, touching your nipples and squeezing and twisting them hard, pulling on them as you let out a small moan that made him smirk. "Are you wet already?" He looked into your eyes, while he squeezed your breasts, biting his lip, and with his knees, pushing your legs to the sides of him so that you were spread open, just as you could have wished before. Who wouldn't...

"Do you have condoms?" You asked, even though you knew the guy probably got no sex, you didn't want to risk any sexually transmitted diseases, he frowned, removing his hands from your breasts and said.

"Do I look like I'm carrying a whole package of condoms?" He asked and then let out a laugh. He looked at the car windows hoping that no one would pass by or a person would come out of nowhere. And it was almost time to open the gift, his fingers undoing his belt while you noticed the sexy veins in his hands and forearms, damn man how sexy he was. After that, he took your handcuffed wrists, and put them above your head so that you were not in the way, finally, lowering his pants a little followed by his boxers, which you could see were black Calvin Klein ones.

It was no surprise, this man gave off the aroma of Calvin Klein, he was just so perfect. His veined hand pulling out his good sized cock, with two veins adorning the length, he gave it a pair of pumps while with the other hand, he lifted your skirt a little, and pushed your lace panties aside. His thumb rubbing circles on your clit making you gasp with desire, he then said. "Shit...you're so wet" The sound of his voice was so sexy that you probably felt yourself slipping into the seat of his car, he continued to rub your clit making you wetter while with his other hand he continued jerking off his cock to make it harder, which was throbbing of need to be inside you, on the other hand, he remained strong enough not to sink into you so quickly.

His finger slid over your pussy slit, expanding your juices as your legs trembled looking at him, slowly grinding your hips, he brought his hand to his mouth, licking the tips of his three middle fingers, and spitting a little, then brought them back to your pussy and rub more.

"Holy fuck! You are torturing me Zabel, just fuck me" You let out a moan, he just let out a playful giggle, and leaned towards you, biting your earlobe, and finally, you felt the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your slit, and his hand that was now free, He took your leg, lifting it on his hip and pressing his fingers into it, slowly pushing his tip into you making you moan, and pulling it out again, finally, he pushed himself inside you all the way, touching the depths of you. He grunted leaned his forehead on your neck and whispered.

"fuckkk, you're so damn tight," he whispered, then his other hand took your other leg, placing it on his hip as well and squeezing your thighs with his fingers, slowly, moving his hips back and forth, while you moaned close to his ear.

"yes...ghhh...Zabel" You moaned slowly as your arms tried to go towards his neck to hug him, but releasing your thigh he aggressively pushed your cuffed arms back against the car door, and put his hand on your thigh again, fucking you a little faster than how it started.

"Don't touch me" he said, as he gasped, you felt his cock was completely hard inside you, his balls slapping against your ass as he ground himself a little and started to fuck you faster, you could hear the sounds of skin slapping or clapping. in the silence of the car, while your moans increased and his gasps the same.

"yes...yes...just like that, please zabel..."

Your moans ran through his ears, while he bit his lip and his cockhead brushed hard against your hilt, resting his forehead more on the small hollow of your neck, you moaned more and more. His hand, slowly spanking you, sliding up and down your thigh, as you tried to push yourself further into him.

"fuck i think im gonna...fucking cum" He whispered shakily, while his hips hit your pelvis hard making you moan even more than before, feeling a strange sensation of wanting to come without anticipation, you wanted to touch him but surely he would refuse so you preferred to hold on to the roof of the car, squeezing your legs. on the sides of him. His cock slid back and forth inside you, making you gasp and drip on the seat, the mixture of juices began to form when his cock was filled with your white liquid and with one last thrust, perhaps very strong, he came inside you. of you, pressing his pelvis hard against yours to make sure your pussy swallows every residue of his semen, your womb totally infested with him, damn, you even wanted to get pregnant by him so you could tie him to you and have him fuck you like this fucking time.

Gasping, he raised his head looking into your eyes, sliding out of you and shaking his cock to release the last liquid into your vagina, then he pulled up his boxers and buttoned his pants. "Now, let's go, you must be locked up tonight"

As if the little moment of sex you had was going to change the fact that you had to go to fucking jail that fucking night. "What if I give you a blowjob?"

He smiled as he adjusted your panties and skirt and lowering your cuffed wrists he said "Then make sure you keep that mouth shut for when you leave tomorrow, I need a good good morning blowjob."

He got out of the back seat, closing the door and returned to the driver's seat, while you took care of sitting down properly, although as if once again your pussy felt the need for him, with your forehead sweating and panting you said. "Oh shit, you're a son of a bitch," you muttered.

He looked at you in the rearview mirror as he took the car out from where he parked it and told you, "but you moaned so well for me, didn't ya, doll?"

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary: Dr. Vis gives you the responsibility of the patient in room 393.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

Note : This fic is a bit of a slow burn so don't expect overly heated smut in the second chapter itself.

Species dysphoria, that's what they called it, a feeling of displacement or non-belonging in one's own species and feeling as if you belong to another. Your mother used to talk about one of her patients who felt this way and believed he was a crow - he would make crow sounds, walk and act like one, and even attempted to fly like a crow, which led to him breaking most of his bones.

Upon learning about Daemon's condition, you recognized the similarity to the patient who thought he was a crow, but you also recognized that Daemon was not constantly pretending to be a dragon, he just said that he was one, not just a dragon but a hybrid instead. As you had woken up this morning Mona had informed you that Dr. Vis wanted to meet you which had immediately made you all nervous.

“Good morning Dr. Vis” you mumbled politely so he gestured to you to sit down. He was an intimidating man with brown hair and few wrinkles that came with age of course, eyes always hidden behind those thick glasses, and you had never seen him in anything but the professional suit he would wear and of course the doctor's coat. As the silence made you uncomfortable you began to pick on your nails nervously like you always did in anxious situations.

“The new patient in 393 is not allowed to leave his room for two days, I want you to make sure his meals and medicines are taken care of” he passed you a piece of paper as he spoke so you nodded. The paper contained a breakdown of the patient's diet plan and a list of medications.

“Anything else sir?” You asked him so he gave you a smile,

“Don't be fooled by his charm, he's insane but very sharp minded, he can read weaknesses and he will try to manipulate you”

You felt slightly offended at his words, just because he was a semi good looking man that didn't mean you were going to salivate after him like Shyla and others.

“Don't worry sir, I don't get overly involved with patients”

He gave you another smile but it only made you more uncomfortable.

“That's why I'm giving you this responsibility, get going now”

You got up and proceeded to step out of his office, there was always a shortage of staff in the center, the main reasons being that it was located right in between the dense woods where it wasn't really possible for everyone to spend hours commuting back and forth everyday, and not everyone was willing to stay here 24/7, only single people and those desperate for a job did so. People like you.

During Lunch time you grabbed the plate for Daemon and placed it on a tray as you made your way to room 393, you knocked on his door twice before you entered yourself.

It was dark in there as the blinds were off so you placed the cart on the side and were about to open the blinds when you heard his distinct voice.

“Don't do it” his voice came out all groggy so you hummed in response and turned on the bedside lamp instead to not irritate him further.

“You need to eat before your medication” you mumbled softly as you neared the bed, he was laying on his front with his head squished into the pillow, as usual he didn't have a shirt on. You couldn't help but stare at the large, diagonal scars that stretched across his back, which looked like they'd been inflicted by a large object. Despite the urge to touch them, you refrained but you wondered how he had gotten them.

“Daemon?” You called out his name again so he rose from the bed and stepped towards the bathroom, letting out a low moan of discomfort. You had to turn around quickly because as the sheets dropped his naked sculpted behind came into your view. His room was also freezing cold so you wondered how Dr. Vis had allowed him this privilege in this cold weather.

As Daemon stepped out of the bathroom he smirked as he saw you standing with your back against the bathroom. You had your usual work uniform on, a light brown colored dress with a cardigan on top.

“Never seen a man naked before?” He asked as he pulled his pants up you so you rolled your eyes, that was none of his business even if you hadn't.

“Don't speak to me like that, I'm not your servant” you warned him as you turned around hoping that you'd not see him naked again.

“Mmmmmhhhmmm of course you're the doctor's servant aren't you? That is why you are here, attempting to impress him with a job well done so perhaps he'd pity fuck you finally and you'd get a promotion?” He spoke with that annoying smirk on his face but his eyes softened as you teared up, you had never been spoken to this way, people mostly respected you here, patients and staff alike.

“Finish your food, I'll be back in half an hour” you told him sternly as you walked past him but your breath hitched as he grabbed your upper arm.

“Stay, I'm sorry, I don't want to be alone” the tone of his voice had changed suddenly so you sighed,

“Will you behave?” You asked him sternly so he nodded before he sat down on the bed so you passed him the plate of food you had brought for him.

“I'm not your enemy alright, i have been assigned to take care of you-” before you could even finish your sentence he cut you off and looked you in the eye,

“Take care of me? Pretty girl you have no clue what you'd have to do for me if you really want to take care of me” he mumbled as he shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. You never had an urge to slap a patient until now.

“You're doing it again”

“I'm jesting..I'm bored senseless,”

“Well you must have pissed them off to deserve the confinement, otherwise you'd have been out there doing fun activities with other patients” you retorted so he opened his mouth and smirked again,

“Does the fun involve orgies?”

Taking a deep sigh you didn't respond this time as you didn't want to encourage him. When he was done eating you made sure he had ingested his medicines before you left him alone for good.

After two days of isolation, Dr. Vis had granted Daemon the brief privilege to take a walk outside. You were entrusted with accompanying him throughout the premises. Despite the fact that he was handcuffed, you couldn't help but feel nervous about being alone with him, given his unpredictable nature.

As the two of you reached the conclusion of the walking path, Daemon chose to settle on a grassy patch, he seemed calm for once so you didn't want to disturb him.

“Sit with me y/n” he mumbled softly so you nodded and sat down next to him to offer him some company. Isolation wasn't pleasant.

“What's a lady like you doing around here? Does the constant exposure to such madness not drive you mad as well?” he asked you with a touch of curiosity so you turned to look at him.

“First of all What do you mean a lady like me?” You asked him so he made eye contact with you before he smiled like a cheshire cat.

“You're too pretty to be cleaning up after crazies” your face felt warm as he said that, you didn't appreciate him calling the fellow patients crazy but his compliment almost sounded genuine and you weren't used to being complimented this way, it also sucked that he was kind of sort of beautiful, you couldn't help but stare at his sharp features, perhaps those strange features contributed into making him believe that he was an otherworldly creature that don't even exist..

“What's wrong with helping people? Besides they're not crazy…most of them are just sick and traumatized from their past, there's a reason behind every ailment” you emphasized so he let out the sort of smile that you could hear.

“How old are you?” He asked you so you shrugged in response.

“30..close to 31” you mumbled softly and you could tell he was surprised by the knowledge.

“You don't look a day older than twenty five darling”

“Well there's not much difference between 25 and 30.. how old are you?”

“Why would you want to know?”

He asked you and you almost felt embarrassed, now you could see what Dr. Vis meant when he said that Daemon was a charming man.

“I'm just countering your questions buddy”

He chuckled as you said that.

“I'm thirty four sweetheart”

“Mhhhm and since when you feel that you're a uhhh…a dragon?”

The look on his face changed as you brought it up , he turned his whole body towards you and scooted closer as he looked at you intently.

“Don't mock me frail little thing, it would do you no good” he hissed his words, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you but he was handcuffed. What's the worst he could do? And why did you want to figure it out so badly?

“I was just asking you a genuine question”

“Did Vis ask you to shove your nose into my personal business?” he questioned so you shook your head immediately.

“Noo i am curious”

“Ohhh I know you're curious”

He tilted his head and pressed his nose against your neck to sniff you again, this time in broad daylight, if someone was to see you like this it wouldn't go down well.

“You didn't answer my question”

You mumbled gently so he dragged his nose over the vein on your neck before he stepped away, that's when you were able to let out the breath you had been holding in.

“For as long as I could remember, I knew what I was”

His voice was deep as he whispered, pupils dilated now as if he was drunk or high on something all of a sudden.

“Why do you sniff me like this?” you asked him, curiosity apparent in your tone.

“To read, to assess, to judge”

“What are you assessing?”

“Assessing whether you are as sweet on the inside as you smell and look”

“Alright…umm we need to get back now” you stood up suddenly so he snickered as if he was proud of himself.

You knew you had to maintain some professional distance from him if he was going to sniff you out of nowhere.

And you knew you had to deny the fact that it made you feel so warm and tingly sudden whenever he was so close to you.

Perhaps you had an ailment of your own because you had never really felt a genuine sexual attraction towards a man all your life, the only crush towards the opposite sex you remember having as a child was on this actor from the movies, Paul Newman. Men didn't attract you, nor did women, you loved the idea of romance and love but you had never experienced it, you never found yourself thinking or dreaming about anyone constantly. It made you yearn for that sort of connection but you were never able to find it in a man. You had learned to accept it as it was.

But something changed that night, as you laid down on your bed you found yourself thinking about him, his hazel eyes that you could have sworn were glowing under the sunlight, his silver hair longing to be touched.

“Fucking stop it..he's sick ..he's sick…he's a patient, you're responsible for him in a way so stop indulging him” you mumbled in your head over and over again until you were drifted into sleep.

But the sleep didn't bring you any relief, it worsened it instead. You saw him in your dream, you saw yourself laying on the same patch of grass and he was on top of you all naked, as you pressed your head up you realized you didn't have any clothes on either, your legs were secured around his slender waist, his hair falling on your face so you tucked them behind his ear, that's when he lifted his head up to look at you.

He licked your lips with his tongue, before he kissed you and it was as if you could feel his touch all over you, he was burning like a fire but you didn't feel uncomfortable, it calmed you instead. The wet grass beneath your flesh, the warmth of his body all around you, the smell of the forest, everything intoxicated you.

He then let out a growl as his hips moved slowly against yours,

“Daemon–” you couldn't help but moan his name, your fingers clutched onto the strands of grass so he grabbed your hands and placed them over your head,

“You're mine you know that right? I have got my eyes on you and I'm not leaving without you, the moment I saw you i knew you belonged to me, a part of my soul that I have been missing”

He mumbled between his staggering breaths and all you could do was whine and whimper in response, your arms wrapped around his upper back and then you felt something.

Something protruding out of his back, wings, you felt the wings….

That's when you were awakened by the loud sound of your alarm, drenched in your own sweat, breathing was faster as if you had raced away from something, and worst of all your panties were soaked.

“What the fuck…the fuck” you groaned as you got out of the bed.

The dream, it was so vivid, it felt so real. It felt like a memory you have never lived.

That afternoon you were asked to grab his meal and leave it outside of his room but that bothered you. Why wasn't he present in the cafeteria with other patients? Had he done something to warrant confinement again?

As his plate was made you placed it on a cart along with a glass of water and made way to his room..

You were instructed to leave the food outside his room with a knock but you felt restless. Why weren't you allowed to see him?

After wrestling with your thoughts for a moment you decided to enter instead, there was no one around the hallway and if you were caught you'd simply tell them that you only went inside to check up on him because he hadn't come out for his food in a while.

As you stepped inside his room you found him on the floor instead of the bed so you quickly closed the door behind you,

“Daemon.. hey” you crouched down to check up on him as he wasn't conscious and immediately checked his pulse for signs of life. Upon confirming that he was indeed breathing, you proceeded to look around for signs of injury or drug overdose, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Desperate to awaken him, you snatched the glass of water and sprinkled the droplets over his face.

And it worked, you saw him moving his eyes before he opened them up slowly,

“Heyyyy ..oh thank God, are you okay” you asked him worriedly so he sat up slowly. He was still in his uniform as he had returned from his therapy session with Dr. Vis.

“What happened?” He asked you so you looked at him worriedly.

“You were unconscious..I don't know for how long” he placed his hand over his head and that's when he cursed loudly.

“The bastard zapped me”

“What?” You asked him confused so he groaned as he tried to stand up on his own but his body felt weak so you offered your support and that's when it clicked what he had meant.

“He used a stun gun on you?” You asked him as you helped him sit down on the bed.

“Leave me alone” he mumbled as he placed his head down into his palms so you sighed and got up,

“Will you eat?” You asked him and perhaps it was the gentle tone of your voice but as he looked up at you, his eyes were teary

“Don't go…don't leave me alone”

The sad murmur of his voice made you feel really awful for him, the constant mood swings, the way he seemed so broken bothered you alot.

“I can't stay, I was asked to leave your food outside, I'm already breaking my code”

You said to him so he grabbed your hand, his thumb ran over your fingernails, they were red and flamed from the recent biting and picking and you felt a little embarrassed by them, not to mention his touch was making you feel weak at the same time.

“Why did he use a stun gun?” You asked as you crouched down on your knees and placed your palm on his shoulder to comfort him.

“So I'd accept that I'm not a dragon, that I'm just an ordinary man like him.. like all of them”

He mumbled somberly, his words were broken in pieces and it made your own eyes tear up “I am not crazy y/n”

“I know, you just need help-”

“I don't need help, I need to be understood”

“I..” you were at a loss for words as he said that, you wanted to comfort him but you didn't want to lie to him.

“Understood?”

“I know what I am..I'm not delusional or whatever they're trying to make me believe”

“Okay..then why did you agree to come here?”

He went quiet as you questioned him. This wasn't an asylum where people were forced against their will, it was a wellness center. If he didn't want to get better then why did he come here?

“I made a mistake out there .. I didn't know.. couldn't control my powers–they come and go in waves..i have no control..no–” the moment he saw the perplexed look on your face he stopped his rambling, he was saying too much too soon, you weren't going to believe him, nobody believed him “Just go ..I'm done talking”

You nodded as he said that as you didn't want him to get upset or mad again but before leaving you made sure that he was fed.

You felt conflicted about him, he didn't seem dangerous, sure he had his moments of aggression but so did several other patients, why was he being treated so harshly by Dr. Vis?

You couldn't stop thinking about him even when your shift had ended. Sick people were capable of convincing you that they were not sick at all, it wasn't their fault, that's just how their brain operated but Daemon seemed different, you couldn't put your finger on it but he seemed different from the rest of the patients.

That week you didn't see much of him because you weren't really allowed to, Dr. Lisa had informed all the members of the staff that Dr. Vis didn't want anyone interacting with Daemon due to his aggressive and unstable temperament.

Such restrictions only made you want to seek him out further, your mother always told you that patients flourished when they were allowed to be free and form human connections with their caregivers and fellow mates so why was Daemon being treated so differently? That night on the way to the terrace you knocked on his door twice before you climbed the stairs, as you reached up there you didn't lock the door this time from the inside,

“And here I was thinking you were a stickler about this job”

You heard his voice so you smiled and turned around, you had your coat on and your arms crossed together due to the cold but he was without a shirt again. Why didn't he feel cold? Or was he good at pretending he wasn't affected in the slightest?

“I am not going to offer you a cigarette if that's why you came here” you told him so he walked closer to you.

“Tchhh that's a bummer but this ain't too bad either”

He mumbled as he walked past you and leaned against the ledge to look at you intently. What was he thinking you thought, perhaps the fact that you had invited him upstairs when you had no obligation or rights to do so.

“You're cold” he mumbled softly so you chuckled in response

“It's cold out here”

“Mmmhm come here” he tilted his head as he spoke and it made you nervous, the look on his face sent shivers down your spine. You had to remind yourself of your situations to snap back to reality.

“So they will be lifting the restrictions tomorrow..you must be doing well in the therapy” you switched the conversation so he rolled his eyes in response,

“I'm doing what he want me to do”

“And why is that?”

“I want my freedom” he mumbled so you nodded but what he said next made your heart skip a beat “and i miss a certain lady's presence in my room and her forcing me to fucking eat all the time”

You couldn't help but smile as he finished his words.

“Do you feel better?” you asked him in the hope that he won't notice the warmth his words had brought.

“I do now”

Was he flirting with you? You couldn't really tell, you had no idea what he was planning in his head.

“Okay we should go back now–” you mumbled softly so he followed you as you walked side by side, being as careful as you could be.

As his room arrived you whispered a soft good night so he grabbed your hand in his own, his eyes then raked over your fingernails before he looked at you intently

"Next time you're anxious you can use my flesh to pick on, don't ruin yourself"

And then he went in without causing a scene. You hadn't realized all day that you had been smiling constantly these days for some reason. Perhaps you had a crush on him, if this is what a crush on a real man felt like. It was wrong, completely wrong but a crush was just that, a crush. You'd get over it, you were confident about that.

However the next morning you were greeted with an unexpected turn of events as you arrived at the staff area. Mona informed you that Shyla was let go that morning so you'd have to take up double shifts for a few days until the new member was hired,

“Wait ..what happened?” You asked her worriedly so Mona's expression turned serious as she glanced around, ensuring no one was in earshot before stepping closer to you.

“She was caught fooling around with the dragon boy, such a stupid girl”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

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[faggot-vampire-dies-epicly]

Love me in spite

Summary: In the dimly lit corridors of a warehouse, Vanessa seeks solace for the haunting memories of her father's legacy—animatronics that once brought joy, now concealed in the shadows. As the newly hired security guard, you find yourself drawn into Vanessa's world, your professional duty transforming into a deeply personal connection. | Words: 3.072K

Warnings: References of child death, murder, trauma, references of manipulation and coercion, references of stabbing, hurt/comfort, some fluff, kissing. Fem!reader.

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, writing is way harder than I remembered. I still don't know if I did well, so if you have any advice or compliments or even criticism you can comment. I promise to be quicker with the other releases. Title's from Out like a light by The Honeysticks.

Main Masterlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

After months of job hunting and sending resumes, you were starting to lose hope. You had applied to any possible position just to pay the bills, but still, nothing came of it. 

The day you finally contemplated just giving up, the phone rang. Stunned, you had answered to find a woman on the other end offering a job - night guard at a warehouse. You had never wanted to work in a warehouse, let alone as a night guard, but you were desperate, and the thought of having a salary seemed heavenly, even if the pay was narrowing the minimum wage.

You agreed with the woman to meet the next day at the warehouse and hung up.

The next day you showed up at the warehouse and found a police car parked outside. You frowned, confused as why would a police car be in a place like this. The warehouse's door opened, and a police woman stepped out of the building. Her gaze met yours and she smiled, “are you Y/N?”

Your heart fluttered, her voice was soft and sweet. You nodded and she gestured at you to follow her.

“My name's Vanessa. Vanessa Shelly. I was the one who called yesterday,” she explained as she guided you around the building. You arrived at a room where animal looking robots were standing on a makeshift stage.

“The job is simple, the shift starts at midnight and finishes at six. All you have to do is stay awake, keep an eye on these guys,” Vanessa said, pointing at them, “and of course, make sure no one gets in.”

You stared at the curious looking robots, you had never seen anything like them before. “What are these?”

Vanessa grinned, “animatronics. They were used for children's birthday parties back in the 80s.”

You hummed, getting closer to them to see them better. “How come they're in a place like this?”

Vanessa shifted, a little uncomfortable and sighed, “well, I suppose the owner brought them here for a good reason. It's not part of our job to ask those questions.” She shrugged nonchalantly, you stayed silent.

She stared at you for a moment, “come, I'm going to show you your office.”

“How come you are the one hiring me and not the owner?” You asked, entering the office with her. She hummed. It looked like she didn’t like being asked too much questions.

“Well, let’s say I owe the owner a favor,” she spun around, facing you. “This is your office.” 

You looked around the room, it had just a few things. A bunch of monitors with the security cameras footage, a desk and a chair. 

“Cozy,” you murmured and Vanessa chuckled, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel heat crippling from your neck to your face.

She cleared her throat, “Well, that’s basically it. Remember, no sleeping,” she warned. “Hope you have a good first night,” she turned to you, extending her hand and you shook it. She smiled at you one last time and then left the building.

You had stood there, heart beating wildly in your chest. It looked like it was going to be harder than you initially thought.

It had been weeks since that first encounter and you had grown accustomed to her presence. She would sometimes show up to bring you food or coffee, and sometimes even just to check on you.

After the first night with the animatronics, she had called you to check up on you and you had frantically asked why those things moved. She sighed, explaining everything to you. From the disappearances of the kids in 1985, to where the bodies where.

You had been horrified, and she offered to just pay the night, saying you didn’t need to come back again if you didn’t want to. But you stayed, “I need the money after all,” you told her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Why did you want to hire someone instead of leaving them here?” You had asked Vanessa, one of the times she had shown up to bring you food. She sighed, lowering her gaze, “I… I don’t want the kids to be alone. I wanted someone to check on them. I know, it’s stupid.”

You hummed. “I don’t think it’s stupid, I guess it’s kind of sweet?” You said, chuckling. She smiled. 

“Does the owner know?” You asked absentmindedly as you checked the cameras, Foxy was still in his cave, and Bonnie was beginning to move. “Know what?” She asked, her voice cautious. 

“Does he know what’s inside the suits?” 

She shivered, her expression dropping. She looked uncomfortable, frightened. You frowned at her silence, turning to look at her. “What's wrong?” 

She realized she had to tell you everything. And she did.

She told you about her dad, how he had forced her to help him with his crimes, even when she was a child. “He said he was doing bad things to other kids so he wouldn’t do them to me,” she whispered, teary eyed and a knot formed on your throat. 

She told about what happened the last time he tried to harm someone, how a guy named Mike and his little sister, Abby, had saved her after her father had stabbed her. She told you she had spent weeks in the hospital, slipping in and out of a coma. How relieved she felt he wasn’t here to manipulate and harm her anymore, how guilty she felt for that relief. How grateful she was of Mike and Abby, who had understood her, and helped her when she believed no one else could.

And you felt for her. You felt her pain, her relief, her gratefulness. You felt angry, too. At her father for being a horrible person, at the world for leaving her on her own to deal with all this trauma. How did no one ever realize something was wrong?

You hugged her, and Vanessa, sobbing, returned the hug.

After that, you only grew closer.

She would visit more often, smile more, and worry about you. You couldn’t stop noticing the lightness on your chest whenever you thought of her, the way the blood rushed to your cheeks when she touched you absentmindedly as she told you about her day, or how she got closer when she told you something she was excited about. You didn’t know when it started, you just knew it was too late to prevent your feelings from invading your mind and senses.

It didn’t feel like a burden to you, though. You were ecstatic. Every day you were more excited to go to work, you wanted to see her, hear her, be close to her. You didn’t know if she felt the same, but you didn’t expect it either. You knew she still had a lot of things to sort out, and you didn’t want to become one of those things and give her more trouble than what you were worth. You were more than happy being just her friend.

It was a day like any other when Vanessa arrived at the warehouse, unannounced. She opened the door to your office and stood there,keeping a strong grip on the doorknob, looking at you before she had the courage to step in. 

You were in your chair, reading. The animatronics hadn’t been active that night, and you took advantage of that to finally start a book Mike had sent to you as a “welcome gift” as he and Vanessa had put it. You didn’t lift your gaze from the pages, choosing to tease her first. “What can I help you with, officer?” You said, amused.

She swallowed, looking at the floor before looking back at you, a few seconds passed in silence before she gathered the courage to speak. “He's back,” she whispered, her grip on the doorknob becoming stronger. 

Confused, you lowered the book before straightening up on the chair, “who’s back?”

Vanessa sighed, letting go of the doorknob and making her way to your desk, her head low and shoulders slumped. She slowly sat on the edge of the desk without answering your question. Your heart immediately sank.

“Vanessa,” you reached for her hand, “who’s back?”

Vanessa closed her eyes, breathing shakily while squeezing your hand. “My dad. He’s… he’s alive,” she took a sharp breath, “he’s alive and he’s looking for me. For this place.” 

She swallowed. "You need to run away from this place. From me."

You quickly stood up from your seat, grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to ground her. “Vanessa, look at me, okay? Breathe, take a deep breath with me." 

You guided her hand to your chest so she could feel you inhaling and exhaling.

She shook her head, agitated and retired her hand. ”He’ll come. He'll find you. He always does,” she said desperately, tears slowly spilling from her eyes.

She looked so fragile, so small. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her, maybe give her a kiss or two, but you scrapped that thought quickly, aware that this wasn't a good moment to yearn for that kind of contact. “How did you find out?” You asked. She shook her head again, “ it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, look at me,” you cupped her face with your hands, her green eyes met yours and she relaxed slightly, her breath starting to calm down. "Nothing is gonna happen to me, alright?"

You slowly brushed away the tears with your thumbs and she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. You whispered reassuring words to her, as her grip on your shirt eased. But her calmness didn't last long.

"You don't know that for sure." She answered, opening her eyes, her voice still wobbly. 

Vanessa had a pleading look in her eyes that said “please listen to me, please take my advice.” 

You sighed. “Vanessa…” 

There was no way in hell you were going to escape and leave her behind. You just couldn’t.

Her hands started smoothing out the wrinkles she had left on your shirt with her grip, “I know you need the job, but please. This isn't worth risking your safety.”

You frowned. “So you're just going to deal with him on your own?” 

Vanessa tried looking away, but you stopped her, gently placing your fingers under her chin, turning her face towards you and looking into her eyes. You smiled, trying to comfort her.

"You don't have to confront him alone anymore. You have me and Mike by your side."

Vanessa sighed, looking down, “with you, it's different.” Her voice was barely a reluctant whisper, and you had to lean in to catch it.

Vanessa pressed her face against the space between your neck and your shoulder, finding solace in the comfort of your embrace. She held onto you, desperate for warmth, for understanding. You wanted to give her that.

"Vanessa," you whispered. She raised her head, meeting your gaze. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, her eyes glazed and vacant. Your heart ached at the defeated look she gave you, Vanessa had always seemed so strong to you, it was the first time you had seen her act this timid and vulnerable.

“I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to simply leave you behind to save myself. I'm not like that, and you know it.” She let out a soft whine, muttering something about you “being impossible” as she tried to pull away from your touch, but you didn't let her.

“I care about you, Vanny. I really do,” you said softly. Her eyes widened at the nickname.

“I know,” she said, not looking at you, she couldn’t meet your gaze. “But that doesn't change anything. He's still looking for me. He's going to find this place, and you with it, and I won't be able to stop him.” Her bottom lip quivered and she finally pulled away from your warmth.

“I… I just, I just can't let you get hurt for my sake, I wouldn't forgive myself.” She bit her bottom lip, worried. You wanted to look at the beautiful green eyes you had grown to love and tell her she didn't have to worry about you, but she kept avoiding your gaze, wrapping her arms around herself.

You reached out to her again, but she drew away from your hands. “I can take him on by myself,” she offered, giving you a weak and sad smile. “You shouldn't become a part of this.”

“But I already am!” Your voice sounded desperate, you couldn't believe she would rather confront her father on her own than by your side. “Please, Vanessa, you are important to me–”

“You're important to me, too! That's why I want you safe!” Her sudden outburst left you speechless.

“You– you came into my life like a ray of sunshine, dissipating the shadows obscuring my heart and I just can't stand the thought of him hurting you.” 

Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and down her face again. You were shocked, your heart skipped several times and for a moment you thought you were hallucinating.

“You're just so… perfect,” she sniffed, blushing and looked away. You felt your face heat up as you blushed as well.

Your trembling hands reached out for her again, gently cupping her cheeks and she didn't push you away this time. 

She finally met your gaze, eyes wide and shiny. She focused on every detail of your face. “You fill me with a warmth I thought I would never experience,” she mumbled and you felt like swooning. “I’ve felt cold and alone for so long, but your presence is something that warms my heart and my soul. When I'm with you I feel alive.”

Her words and the look of utter adoration she was giving you felt overwhelming.

“Vanessa–” you began to say before she interrupted you. “I think that I… that I'm in love with you,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

You felt like all the air from your lungs disappeared, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. At your silence, she opened her eyes and noticed your shock. She tried to pull away again, giving you an apologetic look, but you spoke before she could.

“I'm… I like you a lot,” you said, breathless. “I've wanted to tell you how I feel, how I've always felt since the moment I first saw you at this warehouse.”

She shuddered, eyes watering again. You let out an incredulous chuckle, “please don't cry, I don't want our first kiss to taste like tears.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes. You smiled and leaned in, pressing your lips against hers. Her lips were soft and warm, and you felt time slow down as you took all in, from her sweet words to her gentle touch. Vanessa tilted her head to the side, deepening the kiss, pressing her lips to yours harder. Her fingers traveled from your shirt to your hair, pulling softly at your strands while one of yours stayed on her cheek and the other found the small of her back.

You pulled her closer and felt her hum against your mouth, and you knew you had to pull away before you got too lost into her. When you did, you felt her breath against your lips and it took every ounce of strength in you to not kiss her again.

You pressed your foreheads together as you tried to process everything. Her voice took you out of your thoughts, “this is the most cliché thing I've ever done,” she murmured and you laughed.

She pulled away just enough to look you in the eye, a small smile on her lips. “I never thought I would be here kissing you and telling you–” she cut herself off, red as a beet, “you know what.”

You smiled back at her, finding her blush extremely endearing. “I know.”

You let a few seconds pass in silence, “so, are you still going to tell me to run away and leave you? Because if you weren't going to convince me before, you definitely won't convince me now.”

Her smile wavered a little. “I… As much as I want this… I don't know if there's any hope for us.”

You stroked her cheeks tenderly with your fingers, humming softly. “I have hope. I can hope for the both of us until you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, too.”

"I don't think I'll ever see the light at the end of this tunnel," she whispered quietly, "I always thought that I'd leave this world with nothing but my fears and regrets. That I would be buried and forgotten, taking my father's sins to the grave.”

Vanessa looked away, "I've spent the past all my life hiding from the world." There was sadness and resignation in her tone, and you wished you could take all that away. "I don't want you to carry my burdens, too.”

“Maybe I can't do much, but I can always offer a shoulder for you to lean on. I can always offer you my comfort. I'll always be here for you. We can get out of this, Vanny. Together.”

Her green eyes met yours, and she blushed again. This time, she gave you a small smile, her eyes sparkling with something you couldn't quite decipher. 

“Together.”

You nodded and took one of her hands.  raising it to your lips, you pressed a tender kiss on the back.

She stayed with you until your shift was over, and you slowly made your way out of the building between kisses and giggles. 

The morning air was cold and crisp, but her fingers curled around yours made you feel warm. She pressed one last quick, tender kiss on your mouth before getting in her patrol car, promising she would call you later and then finally drove away. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world as you watched her car disappear in the distance.

Of course, you were worried about what would happen once her father found the warehouse. Of what would happen and what would you two have to do to avoid disaster and/or getting hurt. All the possibilities flooding your mind. But when you felt Vanessa embrace you tightly, you also knew that as long as you had her by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

A/N: Reblogs are appreciated.

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Carmen Berzatto’s Night Off - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

I would have had this out earlier, but I got hung up on a two-parter that I’m putting out in the fall. The platform is still pretty new to me so I’m still learning as well. This could be in the same universe as my last two or a stand-alone. I’m trying to think of a nickname or smth to use in place for this series without putting an actual name so it’s still immersive for everyone. I was also thinking about doing requests if it’s smth that has interest so if anyone has thoughts on either feel free to lmk. As always any thoughts or constructive criticism are appreciated! Thank you to everyone who has read and supported me. Love you all! - Elli🌿

TW: None.

A knock sounds at the office door, startling Carmy before it slowly open.

“Hey.” You call to him, walking over.

“Hey, what’s up?” Attention turning back to the papers in front of him, arm circling your waist. He squeezes your hip as you stand beside him while remaining in his chair.

“Just wanted to come see you before the day starts.” You lean down to place a kiss to the top of his messy curls. “Getting some paperwork done?”

He moves his arm to run both hands down his face in frustration before settling them in his lap. “That and the menu Syd’s pushin’ for.” Tipping back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

You lean back against the desk to face him, crossing your arms. “Shouldn't you be working on the menu Syd wants…with Syd?” Questioning what, to you, seemed obvious.

“Yeah, I will. I just wanna get some general ideas down and go from there.” he shrugged.

You lock eyes with him, expression showing you think he's full of shit. “You know this does nothing for your control freak allegations, right?” you laugh.

“I'm not a control freak. I just want everything to go well. It has to if Syd wants her star.”

Tilting your head with an endearing look, you grab his hand in yours. “I know you do, but maybe you should give yourself a break. Take a night off.”

He scoffed. “I can’t just take a night off. There’s too much that needs to get done. This fuckin’ paperwork, the menu, makin’ sure the deliveries are comin’ in and that those deliveries are actually what we fuckin’ ordered and-” He ranted, getting increasingly frustrated with each task mentioned.

“Fine, fine.” You squeeze his hand as a way to gain back his attention but also ground him as he spirals. “I get it, but you can leave on time for once. You get here early and you stay later than anyone else.”

“Because I'm running it.” he interjects.

“And the place won't cease to exist if you leave with everyone else. C’mon, just one night, and tomorrow you can dive head-first back into the neurosis. I'll even come in early with you and help if it'll make you feel better.” You plead with your best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“Don't look at me like that, Sweetheart. Please.” He tries looking away only for you to huff like a child trying to get their way.

“You are in need of some serious rest and recovery. Slow down a bit. Enjoying your life won't kill you.”

“Baby, c’mon. I gotta try and figure out these recipes or I'll get behind a-and everything will get derailed-”

“Okay, Cameron Frye.” You roll your eyes, mocking him. “I swear, your mind goes straight to the worst-case scenario every time.” Releasing his hand and turning to flip through some of the papers on the desk.

“Who?” He looked confused, shaking his head.

“Cameron Frye. Ferris Bueller's Day off? The best friend.” Focusing on what you think are the beginning sketches of a dish.

“Never seen it.” He said flippantly, going back to looking through the files.

Your eyes shot back up to look at him. “What?! How have you not seen it? Isn't old stuff your whole thing?”

“Vintage is not my whole thing.” He corrects. “I just like it. And I'm talkin’ about denim, not an era as a whole. I barely consume current media. Let alone somethin’ that came out 4 decades ago.”

“Oh, come on. You're missing out. The 80s had some of the greatest movies ever made. The practical effects of horror were unmatched. The love stories were iconic. Not to mention all the feel-good nostalgia. Which, not to be that girl, with your attitude you could probably use in your life.” You ramble on.

“Ouch.” Throwing his hands up slightly in mock offense.

You sigh, feeling as though you’re fighting a losing battle. “Okay, how about a trade? Tonight we go back to my place and have an awesome 80s double feature. You can cook whatever you want for us to enjoy it with. Call it practice for the menu.”

“I can cook anything?” He asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

“Yes, as long as you agree right now to two movies. I pick. No backing out.” You stuck out your hand with a pointed look. Giving the impression of a serious transaction.

If he was being honest, he found it quite cute.

“Okay.” He took your smaller hand in his, sealing the deal.

A smile takes over your serious expression, so wide your face aches.

“Okay! You make plans for dinner and I'll think about what we’ll watch.” Nodding your head as you move back towards the door, making your way out of the office to complete the necessary tasks before opening.

Carmy matches your smile. Happy to see you so excited. Shaking his head as his mind fills with ideas of what you might like and what is to come of the night.

______________________________________________________________

A knock sounds at the door for a second time today. Not to the office this time, but to your apartment. You race over and throw it open. “Well, hello.” You grin.

Carmy stands in the doorway, grocery bags in hand. “Hey, Sweetheart.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek as he passes you to walk to the kitchen, immediately making himself at home as if it were second nature.

When setting the bags on the counter he sees that there are already some there. “You stopped at the store?”

“Yeah, I just had to get a few things for tonight.” You shrugged.

“You shoulda told me. I woulda picked it up for you.” He didn't like the idea of you going out of your way for him. It was something he had trouble getting used to while being with you because he never wanted to inconvenience you.

“Well, next time we'll go together. Save the trouble.” You tease. Diverting his attention by pulling him into you, wrapping your arms around his neck while his came to your hips.

You bring him in for a soft, slow kiss. The kind that made him seem to sink into you.

He likes the idea of doing something so domestic with you. He always thought he was fine with being alone.

That was until he met you.

Now a trip to the grocery store sounds like the best way he could spend an evening.

He can’t stop himself from imagining how much of the cart you’d fill with random items. You’d swear it was because you had some sort of craving, but he’d know it was more likely that you’d gone on an empty stomach and were just hungry.

Breaking the kiss, he smiles at the prospect. “Okay.” He replied sincerely.

You release him so that he can continue to unpack the groceries, standing to the side of him and watching. “So, Chef Carmen. What's on the menu?”

“Chef Carmen?” He raised an eyebrow, letting out a chuckle.

“Stop, I'm taking this seriously.” You laugh. “You need inspiration for the menu and I'm trying to simulate a good environment for that.”

“I don't think a proper simulation involves you in the old Dio shirt you like to sleep in as a uniform.” Gesturing to your attire with a teasing grin.

“Fine, forget it. What's for dinner, Bear?” You relax, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter.

“Spaghetti.”

"Spaghetti? Hardly seems like something you'd put on the menu.” You questioned, confused.

“It probably won't be on the menu.”

“I thought that was the whole point of tonight? Practicing.”

That was the point originally, but the more he thought about what you would like and how the night would go he didn't want to practice.

He wanted to take work out of the equation completely.

It was obvious you were excited about tonight and he wanted a dish to match the energy of an evening with you.

Something warm and comforting.

“I changed my mind. It’s uh- kinda a family thing. Thought you'd like it.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but it comes out unsure as he spares a glance your way.

“Spaghetti sounds great.” You said softly, a small smile gracing your face.

He has to change the subject quickly before he abandons the idea of cooking completely in favor of you.

He clears his throat as he starts prepping the ingredients for the sauce. “What are we watching?”

“Well, I wanted to pick something I thought you’d like, but since you don’t watch a lot of stuff already I had to gamble with my favorites. First is The Thing since I talked about practical effects. It’s horror, but I don’t think it’s really scary in case that bothers you. The other isss-” You pause to drum your hands on the counter.

Carmen shook his head with a smile and laughed. This is why he likes you.

One of the many reasons he likes you.

You were weird but in a good way. Having the ability to be effortlessly fun in a way he could never be.

“Ferris Bueller's Day Off!” You beamed. “An obvious choice, I know, but I figured it’s the reason we’re having this night in the first place. Plus, it kinda has a little of everything. Friendship, romance, adventure and it takes place in Chicago! A little bit of a 180 from The Thing, but hopefully you’ll like it. It was hard to narrow it down to just two.”

“I feel like this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” He teases with a small grin.

He can see an immediate change in your body language. Suddenly turning shy for the first time tonight. He curses himself for mentioning it in the first place.

He was good at nothing if not ruining a good thing.

“It’s easy to talk about things I like,” you take in a deep breath, fidgeting with your hands “with someone I, yknow, really like.” Moving the strands of hair that had fallen in your face as your eyes focus on the floor.

Oh.

He pauses, thoughtfully. It was often hard for him to approach direct conversations, especially ones centered around feelings. But he knew if there was ever a time to try it would be for you. “Well-uh, those sound good. Maybe we could do another night? For the other ones you had in mind.”

The olive branch is all you need to perk up. Going right back to the bubbly personality he became accustomed to with you.

“Yes! Okay, I have so many ideas. A close runner-up was The Lost Boys. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about vampires though. And Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice was a good one and I heard they’re doing a remake so we could watch both if you like it and compare-“ You continue to ramble as Carmen listens intently. Nodding along to everything you're saying as he cooks for you.

______________________________________________________________

The dishes have long been forgotten on the coffee table. Empty since the first half of The Thing.

You’ve both settled back into the couch with large blankets and at least half a dozen snacks you picked up on the way from work because you insisted that ‘people enjoy movies more with fun snacks’.

It's logic he’s not quite sure he agrees with, but when it came down to the two of you he wouldn’t claim to be the expert.

Now onto the next movie, Jennifer Grey is front and center on the screen as her character sits in the police station.

You stare ahead, almost hypnotized. “Yknow she had been in a couple things at this point, but I think I read somewhere that her role in this is what helped her get Dirty Dancing. It came out a year after.”

“Is that one you wanted me to watch? Dirty Dancing?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d seen it before. It was something Sugar had played once when taking over the tv in the living room and he was forced to watch that or nothing at all. It wasn’t a movie he remembered in great detail, just that he was able to sit through it.

He was thankful Mikey and Richie weren’t around that day or he never would’ve heard the end of it.

You shrug, still transfixed by the screen. “Yeah, if you’re down for it. It would only be my second time so it’ll be pretty new for the both of us.”

“You only saw it once?” He asks curiously.

“Yeah, last month.”

He paused, looking over at you.

Sensing his gaze you turned to him and locked eyes. “What?”

“So you’re givin’ me all this shit about missin’ out on 80s pop culture when you didn't even see one of ‘em until a month ago.”

“I love the movie genre. It doesn't make me an expert! Plus, I used to get creeped out by the age gap between her and Patrick Swayze. But they do this flashback cinema thing at the movies sometimes and I thought ‘How often do people our age get to say they've seen Dirty Dancing in theaters?’ I figured if I was gonna give it a real shot I should watch it the way it was intended.” Your eyes lock back on the screen as a sheepish smile appears.

He just continues to look your way. “Did you like it?”

A grin breaks out on your face and you turn to him once again.

“I kinda loved it.” Your nose scrunching a bit. “I was wrong! I was totally wrong. The soundtrack was great. The choreography was hot. Even though the age thing creeped me out I did end up liking their relationship a lot. I mean, their chemistry was unreal. I guess you could say that about most romantic films, but I don't know… It felt different. Maybe because I built it up in my head?”

You let out a small laugh, turning back to the tv. “As soon as I left the theater I played the soundtrack and sang to it the whole way home.”

A moment passes as he looks between you and the screen.

He leans close to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, and whispers, “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”

You turn to him so quickly he thinks you might have whiplash.

“Hey! You got one!” You giggle.

Smiling at him, you once again turned your attention to the movie. Only this time scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder.

As the movie goes on, shared laughs and your mumblings of the dialogue can be heard filling the small apartment.

Towards the end, he goes to make a joke. When he gets no response he looks down to find you asleep on his shoulder.

Captivated by how peaceful you look, the voice of Ferris pulls him back to reality.

“Yup, I said it before and I'll say it again. Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Leaning down, he places a kiss on your forehead before laying his head against yours.

He's glad he didn't miss this.

[sirfrogsworth]

Adventures in Cardiology

Went to my heart doctor appointment today.

It reminded me how frustrating and inefficient medical appointments are.

They tell you to get there 20 minutes early. But then they call you in 10 minutes late. Then I have a nurse weigh me, check my vitals, listen to my heart, and she asks why I am there.

I tell her any time I exert myself I get sweaty, dizzy, feel like I am going to faint, and then I sleep for 4 hours. And the most worrying factor is my heart rate goes above 140 or 150.

She does a heart test with the little stickers and the line squiggles on the screen. And then rips off the stickers from my hairy chest with reckless abandon. Except her "rip it off like a band-aid" technique was more like, "fail to rip it off and attempt to rip it off 3 more times."

I then go back to the waiting room.

Then a physician assistant calls me back to her office. She looks at my squiggly lines for a minute, listens to my heart (again), and asks why I am there (again). You would think all of the information I gave to the nurse would be relayed or in my chart. But I have to redo my entire spiel about the sweating and the fainting and the fast heart rate.

But this time she types everything I say into the computer. So surely it is all documented and I will not have to tell my story again.

(I probably need to work on making my foreshadowing less obvious.)

Oh, and she was typing with two fingers. I haven't seen that in a while. She was pretty fast for a hunt-and-peck typist. But the confusing part was she was younger than me. How did she survive university typing that slow? I'm curious if maybe she has a finger condition or some kind of repetitive stress injury.

She then leaves the office and I am left to wait again. I sat there for another 10 minutes playing with my fidget spinner keychain that looks like Thor's hammer.

Finally, an hour after my appointment time and 80 minutes after my arrival, the doctor arrived. He listens to my heart a third time and then I have to tell my entire story. Again. Then the physician assistant tells my story but with slightly more medical sounding terms. And the whole time the doctor had a look on his face like, "He just told me all this. Adding the word 'palpitations' does not give me new information."

The doctor shrugs and says I need to wear a monitor while exerting myself.

He'll see me in a "few weeks."

And after about 5 minutes he disappears into the ether.

THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AN EMAIL.

Or a phone call.

Like, they could have done a pre-interview on the phone and determined this would most likely require I wear a heart monitor and have that ready to go for my in-person appointment. But instead, I waited nearly a month to get this appointment. Now I have to wait a month to get my monitor attached. And then I will need a third appointment to go over the results.

And I'm willing to bet I will need to tell my story several more times before this is over.