#so I'll probably just start with the ones that are for sure on there

[fangdokja]

Hello!

May I ask you about yandere!ex - boyfriend?

Did the yandere tendencies begin with the relationship or did they materialize after the breakup? And will there be a fic about him in the future?

Thankyou for answering in advance! 🫶

She wasn't looking for love, but love wasn't asking for permission.

❤︎ Synopsis. A calculated partnership born out of convenience spirals into something far darker, as control slips and obsession takes root. What started as a deal now feels like a dangerous game—and neither of them is willing to lose.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend x Reader

♡ Novella. Friction & Fire - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 9,000

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, possessiveness, objectification, suggestive themes, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching

♡ A/N. Another planned work in my drafts that I haven’t released yet before, but here it is now. Technically an ask, but I prefer to answer this with a fic :)) Ok….. so I checked it and it's turning into 12k+ words. Went a bit ham, and still going. Might turn it into a Novella. Why do I write so much, ahh. So, I'll be dividing the parts (6 parts). Sorry. Probably, the slowest burn yandere among all my works at the moment.... I think. But, still for me, pretty fast burn romance, because we focus on yandere content. Lol. Also side note, if you like ENTP 7w8 yanderes (e.g. Gojo, Hawks, Dazai, Vanitas, Kuroo)? Well, this one's for you. Made a hardcore ENTP 7w8 yandere this time.

The first time you met him, it was as if the universe had aligned—not in some whimsical, romanticized way, but with the brutal precision of mathematics. A logical equation where X equaled Y. You needed a shield, someone to deflect the probing questions of your overbearing parents and the inevitable parade of suitors they had lined up. He needed a partner who wouldn’t demand too much—someone who understood ambition, who wouldn’t suffocate him with expectations of sweet nothings and fairytales.

It wasn’t love. It was convenience.

You found him sitting in the back of the lecture hall, legs spread wide and a pen dangling between his fingers like a cigarette. There was something insufferable about the way he grinned at you when your eyes met, as if he already knew why you’d approached him. You ignored the flicker of irritation his cocky demeanor ignited within you.

“I have a proposition,” you said, arms crossed and chin high, voice cutting through the low murmur of the room like a blade.

His gaze trailed over you, assessing but not predatory, as if you were a puzzle he was already halfway through solving. He tilted his head, the grin widening. “Do tell, golden girl.”

That nickname—it would become a staple, laced with amusement and, eventually, something sharper, more cutting. But for now, it was just a playful jab.

“I need a boyfriend.”

That caught his attention. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, the smirk never wavering. “And what makes you think I’m boyfriend material?”

“I don’t,” you replied coolly. “But you’re convenient. Senior year, right? Close to graduating, no time for real commitment. And you seem…” You hesitated, letting your gaze sweep over him pointedly. “…unserious.”

He laughed, a low, throaty sound that drew a few curious glances your way. “Unserious. I’ll take that as a compliment. What’s in it for me?”

“Your parents are investors,” you said, your voice crisp, businesslike. “I’ve seen the sponsorships they’ve secured for student startups. You want their connections, don’t you? Stick with me for the rest of the semester, play the part, and I’ll make sure you have their ear.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, to your surprise, he leaned back, his grin softening into something that felt almost genuine.

“You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to think of myself as efficient.”

He held out his hand. “Deal.”

From that moment on, the two of you fell into a rhythm. It wasn’t romantic—not in the way people might imagine when they looked at you, the golden child, and him, the sharp-tongued, perpetually smirking senior. You didn’t hold hands unless necessary. You didn’t go on dates unless it served a purpose. He played the charming, doting boyfriend at family dinners, his wit and charisma winning over even your most skeptical relatives.

And you? You became his silent shield at parties, the poised partner who kept the clingy girls at bay and gave his otherwise reckless image a veneer of respectability.

It worked. For a while.

You didn’t notice, at first, the way his gaze lingered too long when you weren’t looking. How he started rearranging his schedule to align with yours, his texts becoming more frequent, more personal. You chalked it up to him playing his role—nothing more, nothing less.

But beneath the surface of your carefully constructed arrangement, something was shifting. Slowly. Inexorably.

And neither of you realized it yet.

────────────

The partnership was a tightrope walk over a chasm, a precarious balance between your structured determination and his reckless improvisation. Where you sought order, he thrived in chaos; where you demanded precision, he operated on instinct. Your interactions were a battlefield of clashing ideologies, the tension sharp enough to draw blood.

You didn’t like him. Not really. And he knew it.

“You’re wound tighter than a noose, golden girl,” he’d say, leaning back in his chair during late-night meetings in the library, a toothpick shifting lazily between his teeth. “Relax. Not everything needs a ten-step plan.”

“And you’re far too comfortable winging it,” you’d retort without looking up from your notes, your pen scratching across the page in rhythmic defiance. “Some of us actually care about results.”

“Results?” He’d laugh, low and mocking, his voice a rasp in the dimly lit room. “You mean the kind your parents can frame and hang on a wall?”

That stung, though you never let it show. You simply straightened your spine, raised your chin, and met his gaze with a glare cold enough to freeze fire.

“Do you even have a plan for your life after graduation?” you shot back, your words slicing through his amusement. “Or are you planning to charm your way through that, too?”

The smirk faltered for just a moment, a crack in his otherwise impenetrable facade. Then it was back, sharper than before. “Why bother with a plan when I’ve got you to micromanage everything?”

It was always like this. Barbs exchanged like gunfire, neither of you willing to yield an inch. But when the conversation shifted to the projects you were working on together—the startup pitch for your entrepreneurship course, the meticulously researched presentations you delivered as a team—something strange happened.

The arguments faded, replaced by an almost eerie synchronization.

“What if we market it as a subscription model?” he’d suggest, his tone uncharacteristically serious, his fingers drumming against the table as his mind raced ahead.

You’d hesitate, biting the inside of your cheek, before nodding slowly. “It could work. If we tie it to a loyalty program—discounts for long-term users.”

“And gamify it,” he’d add, his eyes gleaming with an excitement you rarely saw in him. “Make it addictive. People love chasing badges and achievements. Psychological manipulation at its finest.”

“That’s… a disturbingly good idea,” you admitted, scribbling notes furiously.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased, though his grin lacked its usual edge. “Even I can be useful.”

For those brief moments, it was as if the constant friction between you two ignited something productive, something almost electric. You hated to admit it, but working with him was exhilarating in a way that was entirely new to you.

And yet, outside of those moments of collaboration, the tension only grew.

You started noticing the little ways he got under your skin: the way he’d leave his half-empty coffee cups on your desk during meetings, forcing you to clean up after him. The way he’d interrupt your carefully rehearsed presentations with off-the-cuff jokes that somehow always landed better than your meticulously prepared slides.

“You’re infuriating,” you snapped one evening, your voice tight with exhaustion as you shoved a pile of his crumpled notes back into his hands. “Do you even take this seriously?”

“Of course I do,” he replied, his tone unusually soft, his gaze steady. “I just don’t take you seriously. Not everything’s a life-or-death scenario, golden girl.”

You hated him. You hated the way he dismissed you, the way he seemed to find amusement in your frustration. But more than that, you hated the way he could turn around and say something so insightful, so perfectly aligned with your own thoughts, that it left you reeling.

It was a strange kind of intimacy, this constant push and pull, this battle of wills that neither of you could seem to win.

And though you didn’t know it yet, the cracks were already beginning to form in the walls you’d built around yourself.

────────────

The first time he saw you, he knew exactly what you were: a fortress. Polished stone walls, towering spires, and gates sealed shut with bolts of iron. Your every movement, every word, every carefully measured breath screamed control.

And he? He had never met a fortress he didn’t want to sack.

At first, it was curiosity. A passing interest in the girl who spoke with the precision of a scalpel, who held her chin high as if the weight of the world rested comfortably on her shoulders. He’d seen your type before—sharp, ambitious, ruthless—but there was something different about you.

It was the way your voice never trembled, even when your words cut like glass. The way your eyes locked onto his, cold and unyielding, like you were daring him to try something. Anything.

So, he did.

From the very beginning, he made it his mission to chip away at that armor, to find the cracks in your flawless facade.

“Golden girl,” he’d call you, the nickname dripping with mockery. He loved the way your jaw would tighten ever so slightly when he said it, how your fingers would twitch like you wanted to slap the grin off his face but couldn’t quite bring yourself to do it.

He started small—interrupting your meticulously organized schedules with his “spontaneous” detours, leaving his belongings in your space just to watch you bristle. But as the days turned into weeks, his methods grew more deliberate.

“Relax,” he’d say, leaning too close during one of your late-night study sessions, his voice a low murmur that was equal parts teasing and commanding. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep clenching your teeth like that.”

Your response was always the same—a cold, cutting remark delivered in that icy tone of yours, your expression a mask of indifference. But he could see through it. He could see the flicker of irritation in your eyes, the subtle way your shoulders stiffened.

He loved it.

Because while you thought you were unshakable, he knew better. He saw the storm that brewed beneath your surface, the fire you tried so desperately to hide. And nothing thrilled him more than coaxing it out of you, one spark at a time.

One evening, he pushed too far.

“I’m starting to think you like this,” he said, his voice low and mocking as he leaned against the edge of your desk, his presence an unwelcome shadow in the otherwise sterile room.

“Like what?” you asked without looking up, your tone laced with exhaustion and barely concealed annoyance.

“This,” he gestured vaguely, his grin widening. “The arguing, the tension. You get this little spark in your eye when you’re mad, you know. It’s cute.”

That did it. You slammed your pen down with a force that echoed in the silence, your eyes snapping to his with a glare that could have burned through steel.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed, your voice sharp enough to cut.

And yet, even as you said it, he caught the faintest tremor in your voice. Barely noticeable. But to him, it was everything.

He leaned closer, his grin softening into something almost intimate, almost dangerous. “Maybe. But you’d miss me if I was gone.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with an electricity that neither of you fully understood yet.

It was in those moments, in the way you tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length, that he realized he was beginning to crave you. Not just the fire in your eyes or the sharpness of your tongue, but you.

The fortress was starting to crack, and he intended to be there when it fell.

────────────

The cafeteria was alive with a cacophony of voices, laughter, and the clinking of trays. It was a battlefield of social interaction, chaotic and loud, yet somehow orchestrated, with alliances formed over shared meals and fleeting camaraderie. You didn’t belong here.

You kept your steps measured and precise, your gaze fixed forward, avoiding the swirling mass of humanity around you. People parted instinctively as you walked past, their conversations dimming for just a moment before resuming. Your presence was a ripple in the atmosphere—not disruptive, but enough to remind everyone that you were there.

And then you saw him.

He was in the center of it all, as he always was, the eye of the storm. His laughter carried over the din, rich and unrestrained, a sound that drew people in like moths to a flame. He sat perched on the edge of a table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, spinning some ridiculous story that had everyone around him enraptured.

They hung on his every word, their faces lit with genuine amusement, their eyes sparkling with admiration. He had that rare, inexplicable magnetism, the kind that made people want to be near him, to bask in his energy. He wasn’t just popular—he was adored.

And you?

You were the anomaly. The outlier. People respected you, even feared you, but they didn’t enjoy you. They didn’t invite you to sit at their tables, didn’t seek out your company for anything beyond necessity. You were an island—solitary, unyielding, and self-sufficient.

You didn’t envy him. Not exactly.

But as you stood there, watching him effortlessly weave connections, a quiet thought slipped into your mind like a shadow in the dark: What if you were different?

What if you could be like him, with his easy charm and boundless charisma? What if you could laugh like that, unburdened and free, instead of wearing the cold mask you’d perfected over the years?

The thought lingered for a moment too long, and then you shook it off, burying it deep where it couldn’t touch you. You didn’t have time for such things. You were efficient, logical, focused. Emotions had no place in your life—not since childhood, when you’d learned the hard way that they were a liability.

So you turned away, letting the sound of his laughter fade into the background as you made your way to the meeting room. The sterile, quiet space was more familiar to you than any cafeteria, more comfortable than any crowd.

He was already there when you arrived, sprawled in his chair with a cup of coffee in hand, his grin as sharp as ever.

“You’re late,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words.

“You’re early,” you replied, your tone neutral, as you set your things down on the table.

“Touché,” he said, watching you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Saw you pass through the cafeteria. Thought you might stop by to say hi.”

“I don’t make detours,” you said curtly, pulling out your laptop and powering it on.

“That much is clear,” he muttered, almost to himself, before taking a sip of his coffee.

The meeting began, the two of you falling into your usual rhythm of sharp exchanges and begrudging collaboration. But somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny sliver of something stirred—a flicker of awareness, of something you couldn’t quite name, whenever he spoke or laughed.

You told yourself it was nothing.

And for now, you believed it.

────────────

The garage was thick with the scent of motor oil and cigarette smoke, the hum of a barely-functional heater filling the space with a low, constant drone. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered occasionally, casting long, jittery shadows across the room. The boys were sprawled around the billiard table, cheap beers in hand, the air crackling with laughter and banter.

He leaned casually against the edge of the table, cue stick in hand, a smirk playing on his lips as he lined up his next shot. His movements were lazy, almost careless, but his sharp eyes betrayed the precision in every calculation.

“So,” one of them started, a wiry guy with a perpetual grin that made him look younger than he was. “This new girl of yours… she’s the one keeping you so busy these days?”

Another guy chimed in, his tone dripping with mock suspicion. “Yeah, man, you’ve been skipping out on poker nights. Thought you were allergic to commitment.”

He laughed, the sound low and throaty, as he took his shot. The crack of the cue ball hitting its target echoed through the room, the striped ball sinking neatly into the corner pocket. “Allergic? Please. I don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

The guys laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, their teasing picking up momentum.

“So what’s her deal, huh?” The wiry one pressed, leaning against his own cue stick. “Rich? Hot? Bet she’s one of those uptight types you love to mess with.”

He straightened, twirling the cue stick between his fingers as he leaned back against the table, his smirk widening. “You could say that. She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting,” another guy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You? Interested in someone? Hell, what’s she got—blackmail material? A hit out on your family?”

“Not a chance,” he replied, his tone light but edged with something sharper, something darker. “She’s just… different. Keeps me on my toes.”

The wiry one snorted. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Isn’t that the point?” he shot back, his grin sharp as a blade.

They laughed again, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression as he took another swig of his beer.

“Come on,” the wiry one said, jabbing his cue stick in his direction. “You’re not seriously into her, are you? Thought you didn’t do serious.”

“I don’t,” he replied smoothly, setting his bottle down with a loud clink. “It’s transactional. Mutual benefit, you know? She gets what she wants; I get what I want. Simple.”

“Sounds like a business deal,” someone muttered.

He shrugged, his smirk never faltering. “Aren’t all relationships?”

The guys laughed again, the conversation shifting to the next round of the game, but his mind lingered on the question.

He wasn’t serious about her. Couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be.

And yet, every time he saw her—the fire in her eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw, the way she tried so hard to keep him at a distance—it felt like a challenge he couldn’t ignore.

She was a fortress, and he was a conqueror.

For now, he could laugh, joke, and deflect. But the truth was darker, heavier, lurking in the corners of his mind like a shadow he couldn’t quite shake.

He lined up his next shot, the sharp crack of the cue ball echoing through the garage.

This wasn’t serious.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

────────────

The room was suffocating, its air thick with the sterile scent of recycled oxygen and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above. Papers were scattered across the table like fallen leaves in the aftermath of a storm, their sharp edges curling under the weight of your restless hands. The tension in your shoulders was a tangible thing, coiled tight and ready to snap.

He watched you from across the table, leaning back in his chair with the kind of casual ease that set your teeth on edge. You were all sharp lines and rigid control, while he was a picture of unbothered confidence, spinning a pen between his fingers like the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on him too.

“You look like hell,” he said finally, his voice low and infuriatingly amused.

You didn’t bother looking up, your focus glued to the screen of your laptop, the keys clicking beneath your fingers with a ferocity that spoke of barely restrained frustration. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure you are,” he replied, leaning forward now, his elbows resting on the table as his gaze bore into you. “Fine enough to bite my head off if I ask what’s wrong?”

“I said I’m fine,” you snapped, your voice colder than the sterile glow of the room.

That gave him pause, his smirk faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d seen you angry before, irritated, exasperated—but this was different. There was something raw in your tone, something brittle and sharp, like glass on the verge of shattering.

Still, he couldn’t help himself.

“Fine,” he echoed, dragging the word out like it was a joke only he understood. “You’re so fine you’ve been staring at the same spreadsheet for ten minutes without typing a single word.”

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard, and for a moment, the room was silent except for the distant hum of the building’s ventilation system.

“Drop it,” you said finally, your tone icy enough to frost the windows.

“Not a chance,” he shot back, leaning closer, his voice dropping into something quieter, more deliberate. “What’s going on with you, golden girl? Family drama? Business crap? Or is it just me getting under your skin again?”

His teasing grin was met with nothing but silence as you slammed your laptop shut with a force that echoed through the room. You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and turned to leave without so much as a glance in his direction.

“Hey,” he called after you, his voice following you like a shadow. “You can’t just walk away from me.”

But you did.

The door closed behind you with a quiet click, leaving him alone in the oppressive stillness of the room.

For a long moment, he sat there, staring at the spot where you’d been, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air.

He didn’t like this.

Not the way your walls seemed higher than ever, not the way your shoulders trembled just slightly when you thought no one was looking, and certainly not the way his chest tightened at the thought of you breaking under the pressure you refused to share with anyone—not even him.

With a frustrated sigh, he leaned back in his chair, the tension in his jaw a stark contrast to the easy grin he usually wore.

You could try to shut him out, build your walls higher, bury yourself in your icy fortress.

But he’d be damned if he let you freeze him out completely.

────────────

The argument started small—a quiet refusal on your part, your tone clipped and dismissive as always.

“I have work to do,” you’d said, fingers gripping the edge of the desk like it was an anchor in the rising tide of his persistence.

He didn’t care.

“No, you don’t,” he replied, his voice too light, too casual, the grin on his face sharpening as he loomed over you. “Not today. Today, you’re going out. With me.”

You scoffed, turning your chair away from him in a move that was more defensive than you’d ever admit. “I don’t have time for whatever this is. Go bother someone else.”

“Not happening,” he said, and before you could blink, he was behind you, his shadow engulfing yours. His hand was warm and firm on your shoulder, and when you tried to pull away, his grip tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you of how much bigger, stronger, and more stubborn he was.

“Let go,” you hissed, twisting in your chair to glare up at him, your voice venomous and cold.

Instead of answering, he bent down, his grin infuriatingly smug as he hooked an arm around your waist in one fluid motion.

“Don’t you dare—”

Your words were cut off with a sharp gasp as he hoisted you up with ease, your stomach flipping as he slung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing at all.

“Relax,” he said, his tone still maddeningly cheerful as he adjusted his hold on you. “You’re overdue for some fun, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Put me down!” you snapped, your fists pounding against his back, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“Not until you promise to stop being such a workaholic,” he shot back, his grin audible in his voice. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re mad.”

The sound of your struggles echoed through the hallway as he carried you out, your threats growing more creative with every step. But he didn’t falter, didn’t even seem fazed, his grip on you secure as if your thrashing was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

When he finally set you down, it was with the kind of exaggerated care that only added insult to injury. You found yourself standing in the middle of an amusement park, the air thick with the smell of cotton candy and fried food, the distant hum of roller coasters roaring above the sea of colorful lights.

“What is this?” you demanded, your voice tight with irritation as you glared up at him, your arms crossed defensively.

“A date,” he said simply, his grin softening into something almost genuine. “You’ve never been to an amusement park, right? Figured it was time to fix that.”

“I told you, I don’t have time for—”

He cut you off with a sigh, his hand ruffling his hair in exasperation. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Work, work, work. But you’re here now, so you might as well enjoy it. Who knows? You might actually have fun for once.”

You stared at him, your mind racing for a retort, but the sound of children laughing and the sight of the spinning lights around you left you momentarily disarmed.

“Fine,” you said at last, your voice begrudging and low. “But don’t think this means anything.”

He laughed, the sound warm and rich as he held out a hand toward you. “Wouldn’t dream of it, golden girl.”

You didn’t take his hand, of course. But you didn’t walk away, either.

────────────

The amusement park was loud—a riot of color, noise, and movement that grated against your carefully constructed barriers. You were used to silence, to the sterile calm of office rooms and library corners. This place was chaos incarnate, a swirling mass of laughter, screams, and the clatter of machinery that felt like it could grind your composure to dust.

And he loved every second of it.

“Come on,” he said, his hand tightening around yours as he pulled you further into the fray. His grip was warm, insistent, and utterly unyielding, a stark contrast to the chill of your reluctance.

“This is unnecessary,” you muttered, your voice clipped as you tried to keep up with his long strides. “We’re wasting time.”

“You mean you’re wasting time,” he shot back, glancing over his shoulder with a grin that was equal parts teasing and determined. “Me? I’m having a blast.”

You tried to tug your hand free, but his grip only tightened, his strength a quiet reminder of the power imbalance you hated acknowledging.

“Let go,” you demanded, your tone sharp enough to cut glass.

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, pulling you closer until your shoulder bumped against his. “Boyfriend privilege. Now stop sulking and try to look like you’re having fun.”

Before you could argue, he steered you toward a brightly lit stand selling oversized stuffed animals and cheap prizes. The attendant handed him a small air rifle with a grin, and he lined up his shot with an exaggerated flourish.

“You’re kidding,” you said flatly, watching as he aimed at the array of moving targets.

“Don’t underestimate me, golden girl,” he replied, his tone dripping with mock seriousness as he squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, and a tin can toppled off its perch. He turned to you with a triumphant grin. “Told you.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as he handed the attendant a crumpled bill for another round. “This is ridiculous.”

“This is fun,” he corrected, his eyes narrowing in playful focus as he took another shot. Another can fell, and the attendant handed him a large, garish stuffed cat. He turned and thrust it toward you with a flourish.

“Here. For you.”

You stared at the stuffed cat, its glassy eyes staring back at you with an absurdly cheerful expression. “I don’t want it.”

“Too bad,” he said, pressing it into your arms. “Consider it a reminder to loosen up once in a while.”

You glared at him, but the faintest flicker of warmth crept into your chest, uninvited and unwelcome. He caught the twitch of your lips and grinned wider, his satisfaction practically radiating off him.

────────────

The roller coaster clattered upward, its chain mechanisms grinding with a metallic groan that reverberated through the skeleton of the ride. Each tick of the ascent was a promise, a prelude to chaos as the world below shrank into a mosaic of glittering lights and blurred figures. Beside you, he was practically vibrating with excitement, his grin a wolfish slash of white against the neon glow.

“You nervous yet?” he asked, his voice carrying easily over the mechanical din.

“No,” you replied flatly, your tone as unflinching as your posture. Your hands were clasped loosely in your lap, your expression an unmoving mask of calm.

He huffed, his grin faltering into something more incredulous. “Seriously? You’re not even a little scared?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

The drop came suddenly—a violent plunge that pulled the breath from everyone around you, their screams mingling with the wind's roar. The car tilted, twisted, hurtled through the loops and spirals with bone-rattling speed.

And you didn’t flinch.

When the ride screeched to a halt, his hair was wild, his cheeks flushed with adrenaline, and his grin wide enough to split his face. He turned to you, fully expecting to see some crack in your armor—a flicker of unease, a faint trace of thrill.

But you were already unclasping your seatbelt, your face a portrait of indifferent calm.

“Wow,” he said, dragging the word out as he climbed out of the car behind you. “Not even a scream? Not even a little ‘oh no, I’m gonna die!’?”

“It was fine,” you said, brushing invisible dust from your jacket as if the entire experience had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

“Fine,” he repeated, his tone a mixture of disbelief and mockery. “It’s a death machine on rails, and all you’ve got is ‘fine’?”

You shrugged, your gaze drifting to the next ride. “What’s next?”

He stared at you for a moment, a mix of frustration and amusement flashing in his eyes before his grin returned with a vengeance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

———

The next stop was a haunted house. The entrance was cloaked in fog, its jagged letters dripping with artificial blood as distorted moans and sinister whispers spilled from within.

“This,” he declared, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the dark maw of the attraction, “is where you’re finally gonna break.”

You stepped inside without hesitation, the darkness swallowing you both. Animatronic ghouls lunged from the shadows, their plastic claws snapping inches from your face. A specter floated above you, its hollow eyes glowing red as it let out a guttural scream.

But you didn’t flinch.

By the time you emerged on the other side, his grin had soured into a frustrated scowl. “You’re kidding me,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing? Not even a ‘holy crap, that’s creepy’?”

“They tried too hard,” you replied evenly. “The suspense was predictable.”

“You’re a robot,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “An actual, emotionless robot.”

———

At the dart-throwing booth, he claimed he’d win you another stuffed animal to add to the growing collection he’d forced on you throughout the night. The attendant handed him a set of darts, and he aimed with exaggerated focus, his tongue poking out slightly in mock determination.

You stood beside him, arms crossed, your expression as neutral as ever.

“Bet I can hit all three bullseyes,” he said, tossing a dart into the air and catching it with a flourish. “And if I do, you have to smile. Deal?”

“I’m not making that deal,” you replied, your voice as dry as the desert air.

“Scared I’ll win?” he teased, launching the first dart. It missed the bullseye by a hair.

“Not particularly,” you said, watching as he threw the second dart, this one landing even farther from the center.

By the third throw, he groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up as the dart barely grazed the edge of the target. “Okay, maybe I’m a little rusty,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Or maybe you’re just bad at this,” you said, your tone cool but tinged with the faintest edge of amusement.

He turned to you, his grin returning full force. “There it is! A hint of a smirk! I knew you had emotions buried under all that ice.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the next attraction. He followed, his steps quick and eager, like a hunter who’d finally glimpsed their prey.

The night stretched on, filled with more teasing, more dragging you to rides you didn’t care for, and more attempts to crack your facade. By the end of it, he was exhausted but victorious, a spring in his step as he carried yet another oversized stuffed animal under his arm.

“You had fun,” he declared as you walked toward the exit.

“You’re delusional,” you replied, but there was no venom in your voice.

“Admit it,” he said, leaning closer, his grin practically glowing in the dark. “You loved it.”

You didn’t respond, but for the briefest moment, the corner of your lips twitched upward—a flicker of something you didn’t even recognize as a smile.

And that was enough for him.

────────────

The Ferris wheel loomed above like a spinning constellation, its skeletal frame outlined in garish neon light that flickered against the starless sky. You were already seated, arms crossed, gaze fixed forward as the car rocked gently in the breeze. He slid in beside you, the faint scent of cologne and adrenaline trailing in his wake, and the metal bar clamped down with an ominous click, locking the two of you in place.

“Relax,” he said, his voice a shade softer than usual, though still laced with that persistent edge of mischief. “This is the best part of the night. Views like this? They don’t come often.”

You didn’t respond. The city below unfolded in a sea of chaotic lights, each one a reminder of the noise you’d been forced into. A quiet hum of tension coiled in your chest, a restless ache that he seemed to notice, though you wished he wouldn’t.

The wheel began to ascend, the creak of its movement loud in the silence between you. His gaze flicked from the cityscape to you, studying the profile of your face as though trying to decipher a puzzle he didn’t know how to solve.

“You know,” he began, leaning back against the seat with an exaggerated sigh, “you’re really bad at this whole ‘fun’ thing.”

“I’m aware,” you said dryly, not bothering to look at him.

“You’re supposed to be amazed by the view,” he teased, gesturing toward the glittering expanse below. “You know, lean in a little, say something like, ‘Oh wow, it’s so beautiful.’”

“Do I seem like the type to do that?” you asked, finally turning to meet his gaze.

“No,” he admitted, his grin lopsided and warm in a way that caught you off guard. “But it’d be nice to see you try.”

The Ferris wheel stopped suddenly, your car swaying slightly as it perched at the very top. He looked out over the city, his grin fading into something quieter, something uncharacteristically reflective.

“Pretty high up, huh?” he said, more to himself than to you.

You followed his gaze, the city spread out like a map, its lights blurred and distant. The air up here felt thinner, cleaner, as though you’d left the chaos below and entered some liminal space where nothing could reach you.

And then he looked back at you.

———

For the first time in a long time, the constant noise in his head—the laughter, the jokes, the relentless chatter that kept the silence at bay—dimmed into something else. Something quieter. Something unsettling. He wasn’t used to this kind of stillness, this kind of weight pressing against the walls of his ribcage.

You didn’t notice, of course. Your gaze was fixed on the view, your profile illuminated by the cold, artificial light of the Ferris wheel’s cabin. To anyone else, you might’ve seemed serene, but he knew better. There was tension in the set of your jaw, in the way your fingers gripped the edge of the seat as though you needed to hold onto something to keep from slipping away entirely.

He hated that he noticed these things. Hated that, for once, his usual shield of irreverence and detachment wasn’t enough to keep this gnawing feeling at bay.

It wasn’t love—not the dizzying, saccharine thing he’d seen in movies or read about in books. It was something darker, sharper, as though you were a shard of glass lodged under his skin. He couldn’t stop himself from turning you over in his mind, dissecting every detail, every flaw, every crack in your otherwise impenetrable armor.

You were fascinating in a way that felt dangerous.

He didn’t know what to make of it.

His hand twitched on the seat between you, the urge to reach out almost unbearable. But he didn’t. Couldn’t. The thought of touching you—of closing that impossible distance—was terrifying in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t fear of rejection; he could handle that. It was something else, something far more primal.

Because if he touched you, if he broke through that careful veneer of professionalism and indifference, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and uncharacteristically quiet.

You didn’t turn to look at him, your gaze still fixed on the view. “What what’s like?”

“To feel alive,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your brow furrowed slightly, but you didn’t respond.

He let out a soft, humorless laugh, leaning back against the seat. “Never mind. Stupid question.”

But it wasn’t. Not to him.

Because for the first time in years—maybe ever—he felt something. Something real.

And it unsettled him.

———

“I don’t get you,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “You’re impossible to crack, and for some reason, I can’t stop trying.”

You raised an eyebrow, more out of habit than genuine curiosity. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe it is.”

The silence between you two was a taut string, stretched so thin it felt as if the smallest sound might snap it. Outside the cabin, the Ferris wheel creaked as it swayed gently, the city sprawled below like a graveyard of flickering lights. Inside, the air felt heavier, dense with something intangible and electric that neither of you dared to name.

He shifted closer, so subtly that you didn’t notice at first. The slight groan of the seat’s weight-bearing joints was drowned out by the pounding of his own heartbeat, a rhythm he suddenly couldn’t ignore. His arm rested casually against the back of the seat, but his entire body was taut, every muscle coiled as if anticipating some unspoken impact.

His gaze drifted to you, no longer playful or teasing but something else—something raw, a little desperate, and utterly unfamiliar to him. He could see the faint outline of your lashes against your cheek, the soft curve of your lips as your expression remained distant, detached.

And yet, to him, you were a storm barely contained, your quietness thrumming with an energy he could feel in his bones.

He didn’t notice the way his own breathing had shifted, deeper now, as if his body were bracing for something he couldn’t quite define. His eyes flicked downward—just a moment, a heartbeat—and caught on the soft shape of your mouth. It wasn’t intentional, but once he saw it, he couldn’t unsee it.

He swallowed hard, the sound audible in the tight confines of the cabin.

“I—” he started, his voice faltering like an engine choking on its own fuel. He barely recognized the sound coming out of his mouth, stripped of its usual bravado and swagger.

He should’ve stopped there. Should’ve cracked a joke or leaned back with that cocky grin that had always been his armor. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

His hand lifted almost on its own, shaking slightly as it reached toward your face. The tips of his fingers brushed against a stray strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear with a gentleness that felt alien to him. It was clumsy, hesitant—nothing like the smooth confidence he usually exuded.

The heat radiating from you was intoxicating, pulling him closer even as his mind screamed at him to stop. His breath hitched as he leaned in, so slowly it felt as though time itself had slowed to a crawl.

He wasn’t thinking anymore. The usual whirlwind of his mind—sharp, quick, always moving—had stilled completely.

All he could focus on was you.

The curve of your lips. The faint rise and fall of your chest. The way you still hadn’t looked at him, so lost in your own world that you hadn’t yet noticed the dangerous proximity between you.

His breath mingled with yours now, warm and unsteady, as his lips hovered just a hair’s breadth away from yours. His eyes half-closed, the edges of his vision blurring as every instinct in him screamed to close the gap.

And then—

Your eyes snapped to his, sharp and unyielding like a blade cutting through fog.

It hit you like a jolt of electricity, the realization of just how close he was, how dangerously near his lips hovered to yours.

But it hit him harder.

The sharpness in your gaze was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the fire he hadn’t even realized had been consuming him.

His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he froze in place. He looked at you—not just at you, but into you—as though seeing something he hadn’t been prepared for.

And for the first time in his life, he felt utterly and completely exposed.

———

His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and rough, as though he’d swallowed gravel. “You’ve never been kissed, have you?”

You stiffened, your brows knitting together in a glare that could have frozen the sun. “That’s none of your concern.”

He laughed softly, the sound devoid of its usual bravado. “Oh, but it is, sweetheart. I’m your boyfriend, remember?” His voice dipped into that familiar, playful lilt, but there was something else beneath it now—a hunger, a yearning he didn’t fully understand.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you didn’t pull away. Not yet. That tiny sliver of hope spurred him on, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out every rational thought in his head.

“I bet no one’s dared,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin as his thumb traced slow circles against your jaw. “You’re too intimidating. Too untouchable.”

He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “But not to me.”

And then, he closed the gap.

It wasn’t a calculated move, nor was it born of confidence. It was instinctive, driven by a force he couldn’t name. His lips brushed yours, tentative and hesitant, as though afraid you might shatter beneath his touch.

For a fraction of a second, everything else fell away—the city lights, the Ferris wheel, the constant cacophony of his mind. All that existed was you, the impossible warmth of you, and the way your lips were softer than he’d dared imagine—

And then, the world snapped back into focus.

Your palm connected with his cheek in a sharp, resounding slap that echoed through the tiny cabin. The force of it sent his head snapping to the side, his lips tingling from the abrupt end of the kiss.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hissed, your voice as sharp and cold as a blade.

He blinked, stunned for a moment, before his signature grin broke across his face. His cheek was already reddening, and he rubbed it with a dramatic wince, leaning back in his seat as though to put some distance between you.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I get it. Ice queen stays frosty. My bad for trying to thaw you out a little.”

His tone was playful, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something raw and uncertain that he buried as quickly as it surfaced.

You glared at him, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “This is a transactional relationship. Don’t forget that.”

“Transaction noted,” he quipped, the grin never leaving his face. “But for the record? That slap was totally worth it.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath that he couldn’t quite catch, and turned your attention back to the window.

But he didn’t stop watching you.

As he rubbed his sore cheek, his grin softened into something quieter, something closer to a smile. He didn’t fully understand what had compelled him to kiss you, nor did he understand why your rejection didn’t sting the way it should have.

All he knew was that, for the first time in his life, he wanted to try again.

———

“Did you think that was going to work?” you interrupted, your tone sharp enough to cut steel.

He let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as the initial shock melted into something more familiar: that damn grin. “Wow, okay. I go for one kiss—one—and you act like I tried to steal your soul.”

“You did try to steal something,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “My patience.”

“That’s already gone,” he countered, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “You can’t slap me twice for the same crime.”

“Try me,” you said, your glare unwavering.

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine as he rubbed his cheek. “Man, you’re vicious. It’s kind of hot.”

────────────

He watched as you rubbed your sleeve across your mouth, your motions brisk and unrelenting, as though scrubbing the very memory of him off your skin. His grin faltered for just a second, invisible to anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. Of course, you weren’t—you never were. Your focus was singular, your eyes narrowed and lips pressed in a thin, disapproving line as though he’d just committed a cardinal sin.

It stung more than he cared to admit. Not that he’d let you see it. No, no. His ego may have been bruised, but he wasn’t about to lick his wounds in front of you. Instead, he leaned back in his seat with a dramatic sigh, one hand pressed over his chest as though your rejection had physically pierced him.

“Wow,” he drawled, his tone laced with exaggerated disbelief. “I didn’t realize my kiss was that traumatic. Should I be offended or impressed by your dedication to erasure?”

You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but it only fueled the smirk crawling back onto his face.

“Seriously,” he continued, ignoring the icy tension radiating off you. “I’ve seen people wipe ketchup off their mouths with less vigor. I mean, I’m not that bad, am I?”

You didn’t respond, too busy swiping at your lips like a woman possessed, as though the mere memory of his touch was a poison you needed to purge.

He leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes sharpening to a dangerous edge. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re gonna scrub your skin raw. And here I thought I was the one who left a mark.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snapped, your tone colder than the winter wind.

“Oh, but it’s so easy when you’re this much fun.” He rested his chin in his palm, his grin widening as he studied you like you were his favorite puzzle. “Though I gotta say, you’re hurting my feelings here. Most girls would be swooning right about now. But you?” He whistled low, shaking his head. “Stone cold. A real ice queen through and through.”

“Good,” you bit back, finally lowering your sleeve. “Maybe you’ll think twice before pulling another stunt like that.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, but there was a flicker of something more behind it—something softer, unspoken. “You think I’m gonna stop? Not a chance. You’re way too fun to mess with.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze back to the window. “Whatever. Just…keep your distance.”

“Sure thing, princess.” His voice dipped into a mock-serious tone, but the glint in his eyes betrayed him. “But don’t blame me when you start dreaming about it later. They say first kisses are unforgettable, after all.”

Your hand twitched like you were debating whether or not to slap him again, but you refrained, choosing instead to glare daggers at the glass.

He leaned back with a satisfied hum, crossing his arms as his grin softened into something quieter, something almost contemplative.

You might have been disgusted, but at least you weren’t indifferent. That thought alone was enough to keep his grin intact.

———

The cabin settled into a tense quiet, broken only by the faint creaks of the Ferris wheel as it descended. You’d stopped scrubbing at your lips, though the memory of his clumsy attempt lingered, palpable and unwelcome. With a slow, deliberate breath, you turned your focus outward, toward the sprawling view of the amusement park bathed in fractured, golden light.

“I’ll have you know,” you said softly, your voice sharp yet devoid of its earlier venom, “that wasn’t my first kiss.”

The words were like a scalpel, slicing clean and deep, leaving behind a sting that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t show it. He never did.

Instead, he let out a short laugh, tilting his head as though brushing off your statement with his usual flippancy. “Well, color me surprised,” he drawled, his tone laced with mock astonishment. “The ice queen has a romantic history. Who’d have thought?”

You didn’t respond, didn’t rise to the bait. The apathy in your gaze was unyielding, and that, more than your words, struck a chord he couldn’t name.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly restless, the smirk on his face becoming harder to maintain. Something stirred beneath his practiced exterior, an unfamiliar heat that crawled up his spine and settled, uncomfortably, in his chest.

Why did it matter?

He leaned back, forcing a casual posture, though the muscles in his jaw tightened. “Well, good for you,” he said, a little too quickly, a little too brightly. “Guess I can’t claim to be your first, huh?”

There it was again, that strange burning sensation. It twisted and coiled, feeding on itself, until it became something dark and unrelenting. He told himself it was nothing—just his ego stinging from your rejection. But deep down, in a part of himself he rarely acknowledged, he knew it wasn’t that simple.

You tilted your head slightly, your profile illuminated by the faint glow of the park below. “It wasn’t anything special,” you said, your tone devoid of emotion. “Just another transaction.”

Another transaction.

The words settled like lead in his stomach.

He laughed again, louder this time, but the sound rang hollow in his own ears. “Figures,” he said, his voice pitched light and teasing, masking the weight behind the words. “Trust you to make even romance sound like a business deal.”

You glanced at him, one brow arched, and for a moment, he thought you might say something else. Instead, you turned back to the window, your posture relaxed but distant, like the space between you was a chasm neither of you could—or would—cross.

His gaze lingered on you, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way the faint light cast shadows across your face. That burning sensation flared again, sharp and insistent, as though it were trying to tell him something he wasn’t ready to hear.

He didn’t understand it—this sudden, inexplicable need to prove himself to you, to earn something that no transaction could buy. It gnawed at him, a quiet fury that wouldn’t be silenced, no matter how much he tried to brush it off.

For the first time in his life, he felt unsteady, uncertain, as though the foundation he’d built himself on was beginning to crack.

And he hated it.

“Must’ve been a hell of a boring kiss,” he said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bet I could’ve done better.”

You snorted softly, but didn’t take the bait.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with something unspoken, as the Ferris wheel continued its slow descent.

And for the first time that night, he didn’t feel like laughing.

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring

[mimipolo]

nam-gyu hate fuck? Maybe hes pissed at you because you almost knocked him over in red light green light, and then had the audacity to click x at the vote. So when the lights go out he follows you to the bathroom?

Nam-gyu X reader

(nsfw)

I'll be honest I had no idea what I was doing at first but I swear I had an awakening half way through.

You'd pissed him all the way off now. He could put up with your teasing eyes and the way you managed to still look hot in a crappy tracksuit, even when you had the audacity to nearly knock him off the finish line in the first game . But why would you choose "o"??

His eyes glared daggers into your back as he watched you press "x" confidently as if you'd get away with it.

He'd make sure that wasn't the case.

Votings over and it's ended in a tie, everyone's tense and trying to convince the other to join their side. Amidst all this you slip away to go to the bathroom, he leaves the crowd slowly to follow suit.

You were just shaking off your wet hands when he swings open the bathroom door and casually walks in. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets and wearing an expression that just looks like he's plotting something. Why the hell is he in the woman's bathroom??

Immediately you recognised him as the guy always with Thanos, always just a step behind him ,but just as cunning. The only interaction you had was when his friend had made the odd attempt of hitting on you. But right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You went and chose "x" huh?"

You remain quiet, eyes darting around the bathroom as you back away from him but he grasps your arm suddenly making your heart jump.

"You're gonna ignore me now? You gotta mouth, speak."

"What's it matter to you what I chose."

You say through gritted teeth, nervous to speak up to him but also refusing to let him push you around. Your expression sours as he begins to grin wide, like he's pleased with your response and it'd justify what he's about to do.

"Vote "o" next round." He says harshly as he tugs you closer, his body close to yours. He only chuckles when you try to step away, grabbing your other arm to keep you near.

"That a no?" He's tilting his head down towards you, it's almost like he was hoping you'd go against him, you could hear his heartbeat as he eyed you over lustfully.

Unfortunately you had missed the arousal in his hate filled gaze as you spit back a "Hell no", you're being pulled into a bathroom stall before you could even think.

"How bout I convince you to choose "o" yeah? I'm pretty good." His words are smug as he has your back to the colourful stall wall, his hands already fumbling to unzip your tracksuit, kissing loudly at the skin of your neck. The whole situation had your hairs standing up on end, an alarming sense of arousal coursing through you.

A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder has you flinching, a pained gasp escaping your lips as he looks up at you sadistically.

"I bite though, hard. But you'd probably like that, not even sayin' a thing."

"You asshole..."

You're left shocked by his lust coated words, your hands finally moving to grip his own tracksuit in an attempt to get him off but he's unfazed. Sucking and biting into your flesh as his hands reach down to rest on your hips, one sliding down the waistband of your sweats and into your pants.

You jolt violently at the intrusion, eyes widening in shock as you feel your resolve start to crumble. Your hands tightening around his clothes rather than pushing him away, craning your hips forward when cold ringed fingers press against those bundle of nerves. Shivering softly at the sensation, he just laughs at you, pulling down your tracksuit more for better access.

He didn't lie when he said he was good, each swerve of his fingers had you twitching against him, desperate for him to slip just one inside.

"You're wet from just this? Almost making me feel bad... but you've been the one teasing me this whole time."

"You're fucking crazy-" you manage to barely get out between gasps.

His tone still comes off as arrogant but you can hear him becoming breathless from just watching you crumble under his fingers. Two thick digits pushed inside you. Immediately taking him like you'd been hoping.

"Didn't even hav'ta push that much, you been fucking in this shitty place?"

The accusations make you whine softly as you squeeze around him, it's not true but something about the way he says it has you hooked. He was such an asshole, a sleeze and a junkie but you couldn't defend how you were murmuring against his chest for more.

"More? I knew you were just playing hard to get..."

What you didn't expect was for him to flip you on your back, hands roaming up your body to squeeze at the soft flesh as he presses his evident hard on against the curve of your ass.

"You'll never think of leaving after this." He hisses against the shell of your ear stripping himself down to line himself up against you. Before you could argue with him, even lie and say you'd vote "o" this time he's already inching himself inside you, a sharp jolt shooting through your senses. He's huffing and moaning when he bottoms out, not wasting a moment as he's already moving, making sure you take all of him as he pulls your hips back.

He's surprisingly slow, almost affectionately so. But his words are vulgar and degrading, his hands harshly grabbing anywhere they wished. Your arms are braced against the walls and your eyes squeezed shut with ecstasy as he softly reshapes you. It was like he was making sure you knew and remembered what he was doing to you.

You're honestly convinced he's louder than you, your voices filling the air as you take him. Eventually he gets desperate, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster and his dirty words only getting whinier "such a slut", "just keep taking it."

Your stomach drops when you hear the bathroom door open, he's quick to silence you. Placing a firm hand over your mouth as his other hand reaches between your legs again to press roughly against your sensitive bud. He's biting his own lip to keep quiet as his hips shudder and he spills everything he's got in you, painting your walls thickly with his cum. He's murmuring and panting against your shoulder about how good you took him before slipping out of you.

He snickers quietly watching you almost fold when he releases his hold on you, pulling up your pants and sweats and sitting you down on the toilet seat.

"I trust you know what to vote, I'll come remind ya if you forget." He whispers as leans down to grin dazily at you, his eyes scanning your fucked out expression. Clearly happy with his work he kisses your cheek deceptively sweetly, before leaving the stall. You hear him wash his hands and whistle softly as he walks away, the creak of the bathroom door signalling his exit.

What the hell was that about...

[iwashie]

Sevika, and reader on her period headcanon...

Sevika is in her late 30s and probably doesn't suffer with her period-or do-, but dating a younger woman, at the peak of hormones and period, makes her think about her time and asks herself how she handles you and all your versions during it.

She knows your period is coming by just seeing your breasts swelling, some complaints about your back hurting, and mood changing during the day as you always do but never remember it's that time of the month.

She always has a lot of pads, your favorite food stockpiled, medicine for your various pains, always ready to massage your back, legs and belly, brings you a lot of water and a hot water bottle for cramps.

"Doll, it's normal to have a period. Don't be angry or disgusting for it. I know you don't like having pains, and all that stuff period brings on, but it's normal. And you have me by your side."

Your mood swings are a challenge for her, but she handles somehow. Just like the day you two were walking around Zaun, enjoying a street food you begged her to buy and then she notices you're not by her side, looking back to see you stuck in the place, your eyes on the ground, on your food on the ground. She immediately ran back to you, soothing you as your eyes filled with tears and mumbled that you haven't even bitten. "That's alright, doll. Have mine and everything is fine."

Or the day she made a joke at the wrong time and wrong place, making everyone at the table in Last Drop alternate gaze between you two just to look away when you lashed out on her and left the place without her. Or the day a woman looked at her for too long, and you had to show that woman that your woman was your woman. Or tried to throw punches at every man whistling at you- Ran had to stop you and Sevika at this one.

She thought your period cravings were something else. Why so much sugar?!? It's was possible worse than pregnancy cravings. "Are you on your period, or are you pregnant?

"I'm craving something sweet, like really sweet." You said, searching for something in the cabinets. "Have some sugar." You looked at her with fire on your eyes, and she felt a cold sweat run down her back. "What about some chocolate cake, ice cream, or some food deep-rooted with sugar? I'll buy it, doll."

She can't keep up with your energy, always accepting whatever you want and following behind you everywhere with a scowl, but making sure you're good, safe, and happy. She doesn't understand how you have so much energy left after doing a lot of things during the day to her about your day and plans, just to fall asleep suddenly.

She also handled you crying over everything and making traps for her, like asking her if she'd love you if you were a worm, or her worst nightmare: "Would you love me if I was from topside?" and her long silence was answer enough for you to start weeping. "Doll, it's just a dumb thought. Of course I'd love you and gonna be with you forever. I promise!"

She prefers to handle you when you are calmer, too sore to handle the world on your back, and stays in bed, being doted by her. She always cuddles you, her human hand on your belly to warm it up, whispering sweet nothings or watching a movie with you, both wrapped in the blankets. "I love you too, doll."

Maybe the best thing about your period is the much horniness you have during it. Your wild side is always showing up at this time of the month; always teasing her with dirty whispers, handsy. She loves fucking you, making love to you, making you cum and all. But, damn, you've come three times already, and you're looking at her with those eyes again, and she isn't young anymore, she needs to catch her breath. "Please, Vika. Just one more. You can use your fingers on me this time. Pleaseee."

She loves it when you are horny and take the lead, playing with yourself, teasing her until she does something about it and makes slow, tender, sweaty love to you. "Fuck, doll. Your pussy is so wet and creamy for me, gotta fuck it properly, huh. Do you want this? Want my cock deep inside your pussy? Good girl, doll..."

Your crazy ideas always caught her by surprise. She is sure that these ideas are made up before your period, and you only come with them to blame on the "period hehehe"

"You know what? I really want-" "Please, a normal thing for once." "You to impregnate me." A silence in the room. "Impossible, doll." "What do you mean it's important? DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?" "It's biological Impossible to get you pregnant with my babies." "Well. We gotta keep trying, vika!"

Your low self-esteem is the biggest problem, like how she's gonna put inside your head that you are the most beautiful person in Zaun? The prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on! "Your body is completely fine! Your skin is normal! You're not fat, square, or I don't know! Your clothes are completely fitting, you're fucking beautiful and perfect. The only woman for me, doll!"

At the end of your period, she would be exhausted, needing vacations away from Zaun, but glad to have you surviving another period without trying to kill her and every other Zaun citizen. She would be so glad to have her girl back, not that you're much different but still.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[the-ace-with-spades]

My train ride thoughts:

You know all those memory loss fics where they have an accident and forget the past five years they've been married and still think they're rivals? Can we move it slightly to the left and reverse a bit?

Jake and Bradley dated from 2006 to 2010. Bradley did the breaking up - in a brilliant act of self-sabotage, not because he didn't love him, but because he loved him enough to think Jake deserved someone better than Bradley.

Fast forward to 2017 and the mission training - Jake is the one to have an accident, not Javy, and has to eject. He has a head injury (among other things) and is medavac'ed.

He won't fly the mission, but he's mostly okay. However, the first thing Jake asks Javy when they finally let him see him is, "Where is Bradley? Why is he not here? Did something happen to him?" which opens a whole other can of worms.

Turns out, Jake thinks it's the summer of 2010, about three months before he and Bradley had broken up. He didn't say anything in front of the medical staff because his mind still thinks DADT is in place and he doesn't want any of them in trouble. So Javy has to break it to him that 1) it's 2017, which Jake's reply to that is just, Yeah, you looked kinda old (rude!) and 2) well, DADT no longer exists and no one can officially penalize him for being gay.

Which is enough to make Jake cry. And Javy doesn't continue with the whole 'So, Bradley broke up with you 7 years ago' because Jake starts mumbling different things like, We can get married. Oh god, are we married already? Where's my ring? Did I lose it in the accident? Where's Bradley, why did they not call my Next of Kin?

Because, you know, even in 2010 he thought he and Bradley are forever, surely they must still be together and probably married. Which, Javy shouldn't be surprised because he knows Jake had a whole wedding planner, children's names list, house decor theme, and god knows what prepared for them.

And Javy is not going to break his heart, AGAIN, so he chickens out and instead calls a nurse to tell her all about Jake's amnesia. They take Jake away for more tests and exams and just as he is rolled away, he shouts at Javy to 'Tell Bradley I'm okay when he comes in, he worries so bad when hospitals are involved'.

So Javy calls Bradley. Just calls him and tells him to come to the hospital and tell amnesiac Jake they've broken up because he's not explaining it to Jake himself. In truth, Javy doesn't even know why Bradley broke up with Jake but he didn't give him a reason beyond 'we just don't match' and Javy had been also pretty sure Bradley was as much of a goner as Jake and he hates Bradley for making him be so wrong.

Javy avoids the topic as much as he can, but he's not actually expecting Bradley to show up - why would he care now, right? - but just as Jake starts drilling the question, Bradley steps into the room..

Not only does he step in, he lets Jake hug him straight away

Bradley's also brought a bag of clothes and they must be his own because where the heck would he find Jake's and, oh, look at that, that's Texas Cowboys pajamas and Jake asks, "I still have this thing? God, it's so worn out," and Javy chokes on his own tongue. Sure enough, there's a mix of t-shirts that must belong to both Jake and Bradley and a new pair of sweats and those socks must be Bradshaw's because there's no way Jake would wear plane-themed socks.

"Do you have my wedding ring? Or did I lose it forever somewhere in the field?" Jake asks and Bradshaw looks spooked before the bastard recovers and covets under Jake's sad eyes and say, "No, you didn't, our rings are still in the locker room on the base."

And Javy just--stares at him.

"I promise I'll bring them tomorrow."

Javy stares harder.

Why did you not tell him? is what Javy spits out as soon as they leave the room and Bradley's reply is just Why didn't you, huh? and they just stand there pointing at each other like in the Spiderman meme.

Well, Bradshaw will have to explain himself because he sure as hell isn't going to magically produce wedding rings tomorrow morning.

And Javy is proven fucking wrong again because Bradshaw brings TWO wedding rings, with their NAMES engraved and a little thin band with Jake's birthstone that matches the wedding band perfectly.

Javy is speechless but Jake just shines with, oh, they're so pretty, put it back on me, I knew I have good taste.

And Bradshaw is all innocent when he says, "Actually, I chose them. They're made from my parents' melted wedding rings."

And Javy can't tell if he made that up on the spot or not. [He did not.]

And so the lies fucking go on. Jake is discharged, but not for flying, and to keep up the little charade, Javy packs all his things and brings them to Bradshaw's place - where Jake will be staying until they come back from the mission.

And of course, Bradshaw and his--whatever his issues with Maverick are make it onto the Dagger Team. Javy can only imagine the tearful goodbye 2010 Jake would give his married man, sweet husband Bradley.

"You've gotta fucking come back because if you don't, he's going to fucking find out he's not your husband when the will comes out."

And Bradshaw, just like that, replies, "He's the only person in my will anyway."

(Dunno how this would end tho, this is where I had to change trains and I forgot after...)

[starlost-maniac]

My Significant Bother - Ch 2

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Minho.." You look at your boyfriend, shocked.

"The delivery guy was being a creep, hyung. He was coming into the house and she called for me. Since you were in the shower, I pretended to be her boyfriend and the creep wanted proof." Jisung wipes his mouth again.

"It's not a problem, Ji. Thank you for protecting kitten for me." He smiles at you both, stepping closer to you.

"You aren't mad?" You look at him as he stops in front of you.

"Why would I be mad? Jisung was keeping you safe when I was unavailable." He leans down and kisses your head softly. "Let me go and get dressed, and we can eat dinner. Ji, can you bring the food to the living room and find a movie or something?" He asks, looking at his friend. The boy nods, making sure the door is locked before grabbing the pizza boxes and heading to the living room. Minho pats your ass softly before turning around to go back to his room to dress. You stare after him before going into the living room, sitting on the couch opposite of where Jisung planted himself.

"Thank you, Jisung." You say quietly. You were thankful he helped, but now you were a bit confused. His kiss didn't feel like he was doing it just to help you.

"Don't mention it." He says, flipping through movies on Netflix. You stare at the TV until Minho comes back out and sits between you two. Once a movie is decided, you all eat and watch the TV, cleaning up afterwards. Jisung goes off to take a shower while you do the little bit of dishes that were piled next to the sink. Minho comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back.

"You feeling ok, kitten? You've been quiet." He kisses the back of your head.

"Yeah, just never had anyone be that much of a creep before. Made my skin crawl and I was scared. I couldn't call for you and I didn't think Jisung would help me." You sigh as you wring out the sponge, turning off the water afterwards.

"Just because you two fight, doesn't mean he won't help, kitten. He's still a decent human being." He kisses your temple. You nod, smiling when your boyfriend starts peppering your cheek with kisses. You laugh and squirm in his hold. He moves his arms and picks you up. "Let's get this kitten to bed. I'm sure she's tired." He carries you off to bed, playfully tossing you onto his mattress. You laugh out and turn onto your back, smiling up at him. He smiles and slips his shirt off and climbs into bed with you. He hovers over you a bit, looking into your eyes before he leans down and kisses you ever so softly.

You move one hand to his cheek as you close your eyes, the other lays on his chest, his skin warm against yours. He moves his free hand down to the bottom of the shirt you stole from him, slipping his hand under it to place his hand on your stomach. He kisses you deeper, gently nipping at your lower lip. Just as he slips his tongue in your mouth, Jisung knocks on the door. Minho let's a 'hmm?' escape his throat and the younger boy pops his head in a bit.

"Is it cool if I sleep in here? My room is cold and I can't find the extra blankets."

"Mhmm." Minho continues to slide his hand up your stomach a bit, the shirt not lifting far enough to show your skin off. You lightly tap his chest when he gives Jisung the ok, but Minho just chuckles. Jisung walks in and over to the bed, somehow oblivious to what's going on. He lays down next to Minho and stares at the ceiling. Your boyfriend grins into the kiss before pulling away, moving his head down to playfully bite at your nipple through his shirt. You gasp and moan softly, giving him a light tap again.

"Hyung..?" Jisung says after a moment of silence.

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Mm..just teasing kitten a bit. Nothing bad." He laughs out.

"Uh-huh." He's quiet for another moment. "Should..should I leave?" He starts to sit up. Minho chuckles and lays down.

"No. I'm done." He laughs and pulls the blanket up, covering you up, Jisung lays back down and pulls the blanket up as well. Jisung turns onto his side, facing away from you and Minho, not wanting his friend to feel that his dick was hard from your moan.

——

It's been nearly a month since Jisung started working at the same company as you. He was surprisingly very good at the job, and even more surprising, he was easy to work with. Your coworkers loved working with him as well. You were typing away on your computer, answering emails when Jisung came next to your desk.

"So, how do they do birthdays here? Cause I caught wind that both Felix's and Seungmin's birthdays were on the weekend."

"Usually we get a cake for the floor, obviously one big enough to accommodate around 30 people." You sit back in your chair. "Felix and Seungmin didn't want anything extravagant this year, so per their request, we didn't celebrate. Still wished them a happy birthday though. Chan may or may not celebrate his with us as his is coming up."

"Hmm." Jisung nods. "Speaking of birthdays, did Minho say anything about celebrating his birthday this year?"

"Not really. We might just go out for dinner and a movie. It's what he likes to do." You run your fingers through your hair, the scent of your shampoo wafts up to Jisung's nose. He inhales it deeply but quietly. "We may go to the animal shelter to see the cats. He loves to see them." You smile softly, thinking about how cuddly he gets when he plays with the cats and kittens.

Jisung nods. "Sounds like fun." He stands there for a moment longer, enjoying the scent of your shampoo.

"Is there…anything else I can do for you, Jisung?" You look up at him. He stares down at you, doe eyed. He shakes his head and goes back to his desk. The rest of the work day goes by with nothing exciting happening. Minho picks you and Jisung up and brings you home. You do your regular routine of taking your makeup off and changing into comfortable clothes, this time opting for a longer style crop top and sleep shorts. You go and sit on the living room couch, legs tucked underneath you. You scroll on your phone quietly as Jisung sits on the recliner off to the side.

"Do you two want anything specific for dinner tonight, or should we just order something? I'm kinda in the mood for Chinese." Minho calls down the hall from the bathroom.

"Chinese sounds good, baby." You call back, Jisung seconds it.

"Ooh, sounds like you two are finally starting to agree on things." Minho teases.

"It's food, hyung. Chinese is also always a good option." Jisung reclines the chair, scrolling on his own phone. He occasionally sneaks a glance at you. Minho comes out and sits next to you, quickly ordering the food, knowing exactly what you and Jisung like. He tosses his phone on the couch and pulls you into his lap. You giggle and peck his lips.

"Hi baby." You kiss the tip of his nose.

"Hi kitten." He smiles up at you. "How was work today?"

"Same as usual. The guys get along with Jisung. He's surprisingly good at the job." Jisung complains from his seat. Minho laughs, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing your bare skin with his thumbs.

"Are you two getting along more though?" Minho looks between you two.

"Gotta be for the job. Especially since I'm the team leader." You raise your arms above you and stretch. Your shirt lifting just enough for Minho to see the underside of your breasts. Jisung watches you, just barely able to see the view Minho has. He leans over in his seat, resting his head in his hand, making it seem like he was getting comfortable.

Your boyfriend grins and brings his hands up to gently cup the underside of your chest. You laugh a bit and lower your arms, your shirt now bunched up some on his wrists. He gently squeezes the mounds.

"Can I help you, baby?" You ask, smiling at him.

"Mm, no. I think I'm good." He grins more, gently squeezing again before slipping his thumbs up to your nipples. He gives them a quick swipe, making the sensitive nubs harden. You give him a look that says 'really?' and shake your head. Jisung watches from his seat. He positioned himself where it looks like he's looking at his phone, but he can still see what Minho is doing.

"Jisung is still right there, baby." You place your hands on Minho's arms.

"He's too busy with his phone." His eyes flick to his friend. "Ji?"

"Hmm?" He focuses on his phone.

"See, kitten. He's not paying attention." Minho leans forward and kisses your breasts through your shirt. "Plus, it's not like you don't like being watched." He chuckles. Jisung feels his dick twitch in his shorts, gaze flicking back up to you and Minho. The older one sits back, catching that Jisung is watching. He grins and chuckles, playfully pulling your shirt up a bit more, uncovering up to just under your nipples.

"That's true, but I'd rather he not be the one watching." You state. Minho leans forward again, softly nipping at your skin. He chuckles when you let out a quiet moan. He lifts your shirt and tucks his head inside, kissing your breasts softly, effectively distracting you. You move your hands up to his shoulders, eyes closing. Jisung carefully adjusts himself in his shorts as he watches over his phone. Minho kisses and licks around your nipple, teasing you. You moan softly, head tilting back some.

Minho chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Minho flattens his tongue against your breast and licks slowly across your nipple. You gasp softly and moan again as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He slowly licks and sucks on your bud, enjoying the sounds you make.

Jisung lowers his phone, watching more obviously, thankful that you can't see him. He jumps when he hears a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." He mumbles, standing up. Minho grunts and switches to your other nipple, licking and sucking on your skin. Your head falls back more as you grip his head under your shirt. Jisung goes to the door, trying to get his hard on to go away. He opens it, and it's the delivery driver. He pays for the food and gives a tip, taking the bags before shutting the door. He locks it and walks back out to the living room, setting the bags down on the coffee table.

"Food is here, hyung." He settles back in his chair. Minho let out a 'mm' as he was still in your shirt, ravaging your breasts. Jisung watches as he pulls the food out of the bags and sets them on the table. He scrunches his brows together when you moan out as Minho's nips your nipples. Minho lifts your shirt, uncovering your breasts before pulling his head away and recovering your chest. Jisung was able to get a nice view of your breasts because of that.

Jisung clears his throat and looks away as Minho carefully moves you off his lap, his shorts sporting a tent. He grabs your food and hands it to you, looking at Jisung, he grins and winks—knowing how it was affecting his best friend—before he grabs his own and sits back.

"So hyung, your birthday is in a few weeks." Jisung says, turning the TV on.

"Mhmm." Minho pops a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"There anything you want this year?"

"Mmm.." Minho thinks, swallowing his food. He grins mischievously. "There's is something I want. But only if kitten is ok with it." Jisung looks at Minho and raises an eyebrow.

"Anything for you, baby." You smile and eat your food.

"What is that, hyung?" Jisung slowly eats his food, trying to keep his eyes on the tv.

"Remember what I said back on your birthday?" Jisung furrows his eyebrows, gaze shifting to Minho. "I want to see you and kitten go at it. I honestly think that you and her need a good fuck together to get all that pent up anger out of you. Plus.." he looks at you, your chopsticks sitting in your mouth as you stare at him, eyes wide and brows raised. "I'd still love to see my baby girl get railed by my best friend." His dick twitches in his pants at the thought. Jisung coughs at the request and looks at you. You were still staring at Minho, a confused look now on your face.

"Hyung, I still don't think that'll help any." Jisung says as soon as he stops coughing. You look over at Jisung. The images of him kissing you weeks ago come back to you. That night genuinely confused you. Jisung didn't kiss you like he hated you. He seemed to enjoy it. As the memories come back to you, the tips of your ears start turning red, and you're thankful that you left your hair down.

"Just think about it. I won't force you guys to do it, obviously, but just think on it for me." He smiles and continues eating his food. Jisung's eyes flick to you then down to his food. You look back at Minho, questioning him. Minho smiles gently at you, leaning down to softly peck your lips. "Only if you're comfortable with it, kitten." He whispers, pecking your lips again. He smiles and steals a piece of your food before offering you a piece of his.

You all end the night after cleaning up, Jisung going to his own room for the night, finally taking care of his aching cock. You and Minho go to his room for a long love-making session before bed.

——

"Y/nnie?" Felix waves his hand in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts. You hadn't realized you zoned out and it was already time for lunch.

"Hi, Felix. Yes?" You look up at the blonde.

"Changbin-hyung, Hyunjin and I were going to head out for lunch. Jising said he was eating here today, and we wanted to ask you if you were coming today." He smiles at you, his smile full of warmth.

"Oh, thank you Lixie, but I brought food today. I can come out tomorrow though?" You return the smile.

"Not a problem. You enjoy your lunch, ok?" He stands up straight and leaves the office, grabbing his jacket. You stand up and stretch, going to your office fridge to grab your food. Chan had mini kitchen areas put in each office to minimize food theft, which was a great idea in your opinion. Thankfully each office had space for it too.

You put your food in the microwave to warm it and take it to the couch in the office, usually used for customers to wait at. Just as you sat down, Jisung walks into the office, it seems he went to the building's cafeteria. He looks at you and nods a little, walking over to where you sat.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He points to the chair opposite from you, the coffee table between you. You shrug, not like you really can stop him from sitting there. He sits down and opens his container of food. You both eat silently for a few minutes. "So, hyungs birthday is in a week." He chances a glance at you.

"Mhmm." You nod, not looking at him as you eat.

"I…I think we should do what he requested..for his birthday." He says softly. You stop mid bite and look at him. You chew your food and swallow.

"Really? Why? You hate my guts, I hate yours." You wipe your mouth with a napkin.

"I just want hyung happy. Don't you?" His eyebrows scrunch a little. His statement makes you go quiet for a bit.

"No, I do. But I don't know. Fucking you isn't something I've thought of doing." It was a lie. Since the kiss that one night, you've thought about it a few times, but you couldn't let him know that.

"I mean, same." Also a lie. "But if it makes him happy, I'm willing to do it. He's my best friend after all." You sigh and nod.

"Yeah. I want him happy too. So, yeah. Let's do it." You watch him. Jising was honestly really excited about it, but he tried not to show it. He gets up and moves over to the couch next to you.

"We should..we should practice a bit. Get more comfortable with each other since we have a week till the big day." He gingerly puts a hand on your knee.

"Nothing too far since we are at work." You look at him, being stern. He nods and moves closer to you, your legs touching. He reaches up and cups your cheek, looking you in the eyes, his gaze flicking to your lips and back. He slowly leans closer to you, his gaze back on your lips. You feel your neck and ears getting warm with a blush, his breath against your lips before he softly slots his lips with yours.

You move a hand up to his chest, his hands sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. He deepens the kiss a bit, licking your lips softly. You hesitantly open your mouth and he immediately slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherries again, and you're thinking it's the chapstick he uses. He slowly makes out with you, taking his time with his tongue in your mouth. He groans a little bit before he softly bites your lower lip.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes when you open them. You were both breathing a little hard and he pulls away completely, his cheeks a little red. You nod and turn back towards the table in front of you. You feel your cheeks burning with a blush creeping up your neck.

"We should..uh..finish our lunch before the rest of the team gets back, yeah?" Jisung says, grabbing his food. You just nod again and eat your food silently. You feel Jisung staring at you the rest of the work day. When Minho picks you two up, he tells you that he's going to drop you and Jisung off at the house, and that he has to run out for a few things, but he will be back in a few hours. You tell him to be careful and that you'll see him when he gets home. You exchange a kiss and a smile and you get out of the car, following Jisung inside the house.

You've never been at the house alone with Jisung before. Minho was always there. You go to the bathroom and remove your makeup before going to Minho's room to change. You put on a pair of your sleep shorts and one of Minho's oversized shirts again. You pad out to the kitchen to find something for dinner. Pulling out leftovers, you warm them up in the microwave. You don't hear Jisung walk in, as you were zoning out again. He stares at you for a moment before stepping up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck, effectively startling you.

"What the fuck, Jisung?" You turn your head and bit to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Didn't mean to scare you, sorry." He mumbles against your neck. "Trying to get more comfortable again since we don't have to worry about our coworkers walking in." He kisses up your neck to under your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Just…give a warning next time, fuck." You close your eyes as he gently nips your skin. "No..no marks…not unless Minho says it's ok." You gasp out softly. Jisung just hums a confirmation.

"Can I..touch you?" He asks after a moment, gently squeezing your waist with his arms, fingers digging into your sides softly. You hesitate for a moment before nodding, letting out a whispered 'yes'. "I won't take anything off, I won't even look until Minho's birthday." He kisses across your neck again, sliding a hand to your breast. He gently squeezes your clothed breast, feeling your nipple start to harden through the fabric. He whispers 'so soft' against your neck, making you shiver again.

You bring a hand up to his head, gently gripping his hair as you lean back against his chest, he presses himself against you. Your cheeks flush when you feel his cock against your ass. He moves his head to the other side of your neck and starts leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along your warm skin. You let out soft, quiet moans, feeling his hands slide down your body to under the shirt you wear. His hands feel cool against your skin as he trails his hands up to your breasts. You physically shiver against him and he chuckles. Jisung gently cups your breasts, his breath shudders against you at the same time you gasp.

He quietly groans against your neck. He is resisting the urge to bite and mark you, as much as he wants to, he wants to respect your decision. Just as he starts to massage your breasts, the microwave beeps, indicating your food is done. It pulls you both back to where you are. Jisung pulls away, pulling his hands off you and stepping back. You shiver at the loss of his warmth.

"You should uh..you should eat. I'm going to um..I'm gonna go shower." Jisung mumbles out behind you before he turns and quickly leaves the kitchen. You stand in the same spot, cheeks and neck flushed. You blink a few times before stepping towards the microwave to grab your food. You sit at the kitchen island and eat. You clean up and sit in the living room, watching tv until Minho gets back. He greets you with a smile and you smile back. He holds up a bag from a store that sells expensive alcohol.

"Decided to get some for my birthday." He laughs out and goes to put everything away. You get up and follow him, helping to put things in their place. Jisung had finished his shower and went back to his room to get dressed. Once everything is put away, Minho turns to face you, a smile across his face. He picks you up and gently sits you on the counter, now having to look up at you.

"How was work today, kitten? Jisung didn't cause any trouble for you?" He steps between your legs, placing his hands on your hips. You shake your head, just as Jisung steps into the kitchen.

"When do I ever cause trouble, hyung?" He runs his fingers through his slightly damp hair, opening the fridge. He was shirtless again, just wearing a pair of gray sweatpants low on his hips.

"All the time." You retort. "But no, he's been…pretty good at work." You play with your boyfriend's hair.

"What about while I was gone?" He looks towards his friend, whose head was still in the fridge.

"He was…ok. Didn't cause too much trouble." Your boyfriend laughs at that, turning back to you. He leans forward and softly starts kissing your throat. Jisung grabs some food out of the fridge, shutting the door before going to the microwave. Jisung looks at you then at Minho before looking at the microwave.

"Hyung?" He puts his food in to warm.

"Mhmm?" Minho kisses around your neck, kissing your jaw.

"Y/n and I..we thought about what you said. About what you wanted for your birthday." He watches his food spin in the machine.

"Mhmm." Minho gently bites the crook of your neck, making you moan softly, leaving a small hickey there. You don't catch it, but Jisung's cock twitches in his pants.

"We both decided that..we will do it for you. We both want you happy, and if this makes you happy, then we will." Jisung turns around a bit, so his growing bulge won't be visible.

"I want you guys to do this too, because you want to." Minho bites your skin again. "Don't do it solely for my sake." He starts to slide his hands up your borrowed shirt, making you shiver. Jisung just hums out an 'ok'.

"I'm going to go eat in my room. I'll see you both in the morning." Jisung grabs his food from the microwave and goes back to his room, not shutting the door all the way. Minho slips the shirt off you, looking you over, just marveling at you. You smile at him, watching his eyes trail across you. He starts to tug at your shorts, pulling them and your panties off when you lift your hips.

"Gonna fuck you right here, kitten. Missed your pussy all day." He pulls you towards the edge of the counter. He undoes his pants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans when the cool air hits his shaft. He slides one hand between your legs, slipping two fingers into your cunt, smirking at how wet you are. You close your eyes and moan out. He slowly starts to finger you, pumping his cock with his other hand. He pulls his fingers out and puts his tip at your entrance.

"You ready for me, kitten?" He slips his tip into you.

"Y-yes, baby." You wrap your legs around his hips as he slides into you slowly.

"So nice and warm for me.." he mumbles as he slides his length into you. He kisses you deeply once he bottoms out. "My good little kitten." He whispers against your lips. You shiver and moan his name softly. He chuckles. Holding your hips, he slowly starts to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning his name out again. He leans down and sucks on your neck again. Picking up the pace of his hips, he grinds into you, his cock rubbing against your clit at the angle he grinds in at.

You gasp and arch your back, the knot in your belly tightens quickly. You moan out as you clench around Minho. He grins and chuckles against your neck. He sucks on your neck, fucking into you hard and deep.

"My good little kitten. Such a good girl." He leaves a large hickey on your collarbone. You arch your back and moan his name loud as you cum, clenching hard around Minho's cock. He groans against your neck as he thrusts deep once more before cumming in you. He thrusts into you a few more times as he empties inside you. You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe hard. Minho gently rubs your sides, hips and thighs, your legs still wrapped around him as he was still buried deep inside you.

"How about a shower, kitten? Get you all nice and clean." Minho peppers your shoulder with soft feather-like kisses. You nod and let out a soft 'mhmm'. He smiles and gently picks you up off the counter as you tighten your grip on him. He grabs your laundry off the counter and walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Just as Minho passes Jisung's door, the younger one opens it to bring his dishes out. Minho winks at him, holding you close to his chest.

Jisung's cheeks flush a bit when he notices you're naked. Your boyfriend enters the bathroom with you and sits you on the sink, your eyes closed as you were tired. He starts the shower and Jisung watches for a moment, looking both you and Minho over before he goes to the kitchen. Once the shower is ready, Minho undresses and picks you up again, stepping in with you. Jisung goes back to his room, another tent in his pants. Once Minho cleans you up, he washes himself up before getting you both ready for bed. You cuddle up to him and fall asleep quickly.

Tag list

@tenshimara

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

joe burrow x uc student!reader has been on my mind so this is for my college babes

growing up in ohio, you never really would expect to be in a situation like this.

ohio has a few perks to it, but overall is mostly corn, dingy neighborhoods, and like three big cities.

so how did the top nfl quarterback end up in your bed?

it was kind of hard to look back on as your hangover hurt the harder you tried to think. at least he looked peaceful sleeping next to your hello kitty squishmallow.

shit.

"oh god this is so embarassing," you think out loud. all you remember is going to a dinky bar with your friends after lowkey bombing a history test and then...

oh. now you remember.

the kelces were in town last night. they were of course university of cincinnati alums, and joe burrow was along for their reunion tour. they did a whole interview in fifth third arena, that you got to miss of course because you were crying in your pillow over american history. afterwards they decided to visit the small college bar for the nostalgia, and that's where you saw him and he saw you.

joe was so hot.

everyone was freaking out, you as well on the inside, but you decided to order another vodka cran instead of gathering around them like the rest of the bar was. it was your third drink of the night, so you were definitely feeling it to say the least.

after a while the hype started to die down, and you felt a towering body right next to yours. you looked over and see:

him.

"hey. i'm joe," he said with an awkward smile on his face, sticking out his hand.

you don't feel super nervous, as you had enough liquid courage in your system to form a sentence.

"hi i'm y/n and i definitely know who you are," you laughed and reciprocated his handshake. your friends were behind you freaking out. you cringed a bit.

"i see you're with your friends, but i was wondering if you'd want to come with me to a more private bar? i have a driver out back and i can meet you out there so we don't cause a scene or anything" he said.

okay you definitely drank too much because now you must be hearing things.

"sure! i mean yes haha," you replied, trying to control your excitement.

"cool i'll see you out there y/n".

he walked away. your friends came from behind you, pestering you for the details of you and joe's interaction.

"he just asked how i was doing guys that's all. i do think i am going to head out though. i have to wake up early tomorrow," you told them. it was a pretty solid lie as they just pouted and said their goodbyes.

you made your way through the crowd towards the back door of the bar. someone, probably security, was at the back door and asked for your name. you gave it to them and you walked outside. there were two sleek black cars. one for joe, and one for the kelces. the kelces were still inside, reveling in their hometown glory, so you guessed it would be just you and joe.

the driver opened the door for you and you slid inside. your beat up honda had nothing on this vehicle. you and joe both said hey and he offered you a drink. and who are you to say no to a free drink?

you took it and the driver started going towards your destination. joe asked you questions about yourself and what brought you to the bar that night. you give him details and also embarrassingly told him you flunked a history test.

he laughed, talking about his college experiences and himself as well.

you finished your drink as you both arrived at the bar.

it was really nice. definitely a bar they don't let just anyone go into. luckily you were wearing a slightly cute dress.

joe took your hand as you exited the car. your face got hot at the gesture (or maybe it was the alcohol) and he walked you inside.

he led you to the bar where you guys both ordered some drinks and he started a tab. you guys talked for a while, getting closer and closer with each drink.

"you know i think football is kinda boring," you said without thinking, the alcohol taking over your conversation skills.

"you just have to get to know it better, like how i'm getting to know you better," he replied speaking closely to you.

"you should come to one of my games sometimes," he added.

"i would love to! but only if i can get a ja'marr chase jersey," you joked to him.

"totally not funny, you'd look way better with my name and number on your back," he responded defensively.

before you could respond you heard one of your favorite songs to dance too.

"oh my god! i love this song. come dance with me," you said as you pulled him to the dance floor.

you started swaying your hips to the rhythm of the song with him behind you. he matched your rhythm, putting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his hard on. you felt it on your lower back, surprised, and starting to get turned on.

the song finished and you turn around. he grabbed your neck and kissed you. you grabbed the back of his hair and stuck your tongue in his mouth. he kissed you like you were giving him oxygen to breathe.

this led you two out of the club towards the black vehicle, not being able to keep your hands off of each other. you requested to go to your apartment by your college since it's close. and joe just wanting to be inside of you didn't care to object.

you and joe continue to make out in the car. you are rubbing his hard on while he is making hickeys on your neck and grabbing your boobs.

you guys finally got to your apartment, thanked the driver (and probably traumatized him as well), and made your way inside.

you and him rushed to the bedroom, where you and joe immediately started to strip.

joe laid you on the bed where he started to eat you out.

"oh f-fuck joe," you moaned. he sucked your clit, gripping your thighs so that you wouldn't get away from him.

you grabbed his hair, pushing him more into you, which made him grunt in response. he continued pleasuring you for a while.

"i-i'm gonna cum," you whined. this made him get up, kiss you, and flip you over.

"fuck baby you are so wet for me. i wanted to cum just from eating you out," he replied, breathing heavily.

he pulled your ass up into the air, his cock lining up with your hole.

"i want you to cum with me baby," he moans, sticking his girth slowly in your cunt.

oh my god he was so big.

it felt like he was splitting you open in the best way possible. he immediately was hitting your g-spot, having you moan so loud your whole building could probably hear.

he was moaning too, and was gripping your ass so hard as he pulled you into him with deep, hard strokes.

"fuck your little pussy is so perfect baby, he moaned loudly.

you were clawing at your bed sheets, loving how vocal he was too.

"oh daddy i'm gonna cum, oh my god!" you scream. he pulled out, flipping you over again, and reentered you.

"i wanna see your face when you cum for me," he huffs. he's holding your thighs up, fucking you deeper and harder than before. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you released. he soon followed releasing deep inside of you.

he kissed you. you reciprocated but were quick to fall into a deep sleep, and so was he.

it was an eventful night.

so now that you remember...

you put on an oversized tee and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. you are pretty much in your own world, thinking about last nights events, until you hear joe walking down the hallway. he has his clothes on. he looks at you sheepishly.

"hey, so i really had a good time last night," he said to you.

"so did i," you replied smiling.

"i hate to do this but i kinda have to go. my manager called and i'm kind of late to a meeting," he says a little embarrassed.

you're face looks disappointed.

"but-," he adds. "here's my number. please call me. i really want to see you again and have you in my jersey in the stands like i talked about last night".

"i would love that," you reply, mood brightening already.

he moves into kiss you passionately, and then leaves.

how are you just supposed to go back to school monday now?

[staryscorner]

My savior

Didn't reread this so it might have some errors ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

Paring: The Salesman x Female Reader

It was a tiring day after working one of your many jobs but after your current shift you would have to run out immediately to catch the last train. You ran and yelled at someone to not let the doors close but it was too late the train had left and there you were alone at the platform with another man sitting on a bench. He called you over.

“Would you like to play a game?” He said with a cheeky smirk

“I'm sorry but I have to get to work or else I'll probably get fired.” You said in a panicked tone 

“But what if you could with 100,000 Won just by beating me at ddakji” still smiling at you

You thought about it for a while…that was way more than what you would make in a night and you then agreed to play his game. 

“I'll pay you for every time that you beat me but if I win you would have to pay me the same amount”

You were not expecting him to say that.

“Um sir i'm sorry but I don't have that kind of money” you said in a sheepish tone.

“Well there is another way you could pay me” He said grinning from ear to ear

“H-how?” you said trying to keep your composure 

“I'll show you once we played the first round”

After playing the first round and losing miserably he looked at you and not even hesitating he lifted his hand and slapped you…

You stood there putting your hand where he had slapped you feeling the sting and almost wanting to cry but you still decided to play. You needed that money… you needed to have your child back. 

After what felt like an eternity you had finally won you could feel like tears were going to fall from your eyes. He opened his briefcase and you saw that it was stacked with cash. You really wanted to continue but you knew you had to get home so you could get at least some sleep before your next job in the morning. You thanked the many for the opportunity and told him you had to leave. He looked at you a bit surprised. No one had quit the game this early, but he decided to just let you leave.

As you walked off you started to feel weak and then soon collapsed when it happened. He might be cruel but he was not a monster. He was not going to leave a women lying on the ground in the middle of the night especially you who he found quite interesting for leaving so early into the game 

.

.

.

You woke up confused, finding yourself under a warm blanket and comfy bed. You looked around and saw that it was a fully furnished room which looked luxurious. then you hear footsteps coming closer to where you were and there he was the man from last night 

“I see that your awake” he said holding a cup of coffee and having that same smirk from last night

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude” You said trying to quickly get up.

He pushed you on the bed and tucked you right back in handing you the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Drink this and tell me why you decided to play.” He said sitting near the edge of the bed.

He already knew about your situation and how much you needed that money, but he still wanted to hear you explain it

You hesitated a bit to tell him since you had only met last night, but there was something about him that made you trust him.

“Well about a year ago things were great. I was married and had a beautiful daughter. It was a perfect life, but until one day it wasn't. My ex husband began to hit me…” you paused letting out a big sigh trying to not let your emotions take over. “I tried my best to make sure he never got to my daughter . I wanted to protect her but I couldn't.” “Then one day I came home and there was no one inside”. 

As tears started to stream down your cheeks he came over with tissues and tried to clean your tears away.

“I looked all over for my daughter in that house but I never found her. The police were no help and that's when I started to hire private investigators to look for her but none have ever gotten a lead. That's why I work from morning to night just so that I could pay them to look for her” You were trying to keep yourself together. Then He hugged you and held you close. You could hear his calm heartbeats which helped you.

You both stayed like that until you felt better.

“Hey how about this I will take care of all your debt and help you look for your daughter and get her back”. You sat there in shock after hearing what came out of his mouth.

“But with one condition… you go out with me” He said giving you a sly smile

He saw how fragile you are and didn't want you to go through anything like that again.

You wanted to say yes right away but could you really trust him you did like him and he was willing to help you find your daughter

“alright” you said with a hint of blush on your face

He stepped out of the room and began to make some phone calls you didn't know to who but you just laid on the bed until he got back. When he said that he found the address that your daughter and possibly your ex husband might be at.

“WHAT YOU FOUND HER JUST LIKE THAT!” You began to cry tears of happiness

“We can go to the address right now if you want?”

“Yes please I want to see my baby girl” 

As soon as you finished your sentence he hurried you to a car that was already waiting for you both outside he opened the door for you to enter and after you went in he followed right behind you. From being in a rich area of seoul to a rundown and shady neighborhood you made it to an apartment building that was falling apart when you both entered it smelled rotten you reached a room that slightly opened as you both went in there was not many things inside the room but what caught your attention was a small closet that was right next to you so you decide to open it and what you saw was your worst nightmare

.

.

.

 it was your daughter with just a small blanket covering her and she had lost so much weight. You dropped down and picked up her small fragile body. Then came footspes from the other room. It was your monster husband.

“What do you think your doing here” He started yelling at you 

After saying those words he began to run towards you and holding a knife in but before he could get to you the salesman pushed him on the ground 

“Dear if you don't mind, could you grab your daughter and carry her outside and don't come back in here ok? I'll be out in a few minute” 

Not wanting to know what he would be doing next you grabbed your daughter and brought her to the car that was still there. He came out a bit after with a few red stains on his shirt you didn't even want to ask he then got in and asked the driver to take them to the nearest hospital as the car drove your daughter began to flutter her eyes open.

“Mommy” she asked in a weak voice

“Yes baby I'm right here” You said holding her close to your chest 

He just held your hand not knowing what to do 

Once you made it to the hospital the doctors took her from your arms and brought her to a room and they made you wait outside the room until they said you could come in. He was there the whole time with you making sure you were ok. Bringing you water and just comforting you. You never expected that meeting him at the station that day would bring you here and you felt love when you were with him not wanting to spend any time apart from him.

After a few hour the doctors finally came out and told you that she was in bad condition but nothing to much to worry her all you would need to do is give her the medicine that he proscribed and everything would be fine after he left you ran into the room where she was and then you saw her with the biggest smile you went over to hug her and all the stress left your body and you began to cry heavily not ever wanting to let her go the salesman came over to her bed and introduced himself as her new daddy and she loved the idea of having him as he new dad. (you did blush a bit when he said that) but these 3 days have been the most tiring but you could definitely see him had your husband and the love of your life even if he has a few screws loose thats what makes you love him even more.

A/n: OK im literally hyperfixating on this man so I just had to do something with him so this is kinda like a rant. I feel like it started off strong but I did spiral a bit on what to do with this but hope you all enjoy it!!! Pls suggest some ideas :P

[draconicred]

Experiences in the Alterhuman Community (and Beyond) as a Fictive

It's a weird experience being a fictional character, especially dealing with fandom, the fact that your source is fictional, and interactions with people based on that--including some of the dehumanisation that's so common toward fictionfolk. I'm gonna go into that here because I need somwhere to collect my thoughts, so this might get long. I'll be talking about my experiences as a fictive, but this could very well apply to anyone who identifies as a fictional being--fictionkin, fictionlinkers, etc.

So, I see the version of me on the screen as an AU version of me, in short. I mean, I'm me, and I don't think I even looked exactly 1:1 with my canon self--so naturally, even though events line up pretty closely, I see my source as... Almost like a fanfic of my life? Like sure, that's decidedly me, and decidedly a lot of the things that happened to me and my friends, but also not me. I'm not that guy on the screen, he's what represents me.

Even though I fully believe I got here by dying in a literal past life, my source media here is absolutely fictional to me and I just... Don't look at it in really any other way. Which I guess makes sense if you put it into my perspective--what else would it be? It really is like reading a fanfic based on your life though, or reading an article about yourself in the news. A bit of a shock, a bit of "why did they include THAT?" sprinkled in here and there, a bit awkward sometimes, and it does tend to resurface bad feelings. But overall, it's not that personal to me. I'm largely fine with it existing.

On the other hand, what is shocking is that people see me as fictional. I'm a fictional introject, from a fictional source, from the perspectives of a lot of people here. But I look at my source and I go well... Yeah, that's fiction of course, but my life is an actual thing that happened to me. Realistically I know that not everyone has spiritual beliefs and not everyone even accepts fictional identities as something "real", but man is it weird to just... Have it be spun in such a way?

I'm used to being in the media, I'm used to having cameras on me and being in the public eye. I'm used to articles and stories and posts on the internet. I'm used to fans even! But this isn't your regular, run-of-the-mill experience of people wanting to know you because you're a hero. This is people who see your life and experiences as a fun story they saw in a book or on TV, coming up to you with the idea that you're their favourite character, and not... A whole entire person. It's so damn weird.

There's still that level of disrespect that comes from people who are a little parasocial with you, but it almost hits deeper here because a lot of the time, you know they're not seeing a hero or the things you've literally done in your memories. They're seeing that guy on the screen they think is cool, and while he represents you, he's not you. And they're treating you like a celebrity because of that weird fanfic version of you on the TV or in that book.

There's usually little acknowledgement of your life or experiences as "real". When you're presenting as your fictional identity around others, you tend to get put into one of a few camps:

Cool Character from Media who I love and adore and want to talk to (and will probably get fanperson excited about it). I will probably get dispraportionally upset if Character tells me to back off a bit because I don't want my blorbo to be mad at me.

Character from Media I'm in love with and will immediately start asking invasive questions to or outright flirting with. Could get real gross real quick.

Problematic Character or Guy From Problematic Media that I instantly dislike because that's so Problematic how dare you show your face. I'm reporting you for being Character, you should change your identity if you want to exist so bad.

Character from Media who is disabled/queer/mentally ill/has any soft personality trait ever and I will now be treating you like a sweet little babyboy cinnamon roll who could not hurt a fly.

Person who identifies as Character? How interesting! I'm going to really pry and question everything from your actions in-source (to get unique perspectives from Character) and question literally everything else. Because this is Science and I'll get mad if you don't tell me everything, you need to tell me everything or you're rude.

Of course there's nuance and there's absolutely times where you'll be treated as a normal person, but the above are... So damn common. I've been here for a few months and I've already had some weird stuff happen to me simply because I'm Kirishima and people feel entitled to give me cutesy nicknames or whatever. Even without knowing me or my system at all beforehand. It's just.. So different from anything I've experienced before? Being treated like a celebrity is dehumanising enough, but being treated like a character.ai bot or just generally a form of free entertainment and not a person is so perplexing to me.

There's also that if you're from a popular source, you see stuff about yourself everywhere. Posters, plushies, advertisements, posts on social media--all of it. Some of that I'm used to already, but it's kind of weird when you're mentally aware that this is all for that twisted-mirror version of yourself and not you. And if you get a little uncomfortable at some fanart showing up out of the blue, or someone making a source related joke... You're kind of just expected to brush it off. Which yeah, I get it! It's about the source, not me, but it's still just... A weird feeling. A feeling of not being allowed to be upset because it's about the source and not literal you.

I think there needs to be a line, maybe. Not saying that fictives should be putting a stop to any media or fandom ever, just.. That maybe respect toward us for being uncomfortable with fan content due to being a fictive or fictionkin should be more normalised. It should be more okay to say "hey, I'm Character, please don't joke like that" to a friend, or "don't send me fanart of this thing, I'm Character and that's weird"--which it normally is! But there does tend to be a sort of layer of "Oh, it's because you're Character. You know that's not you, right? You shouldn't be upset, you need to source separate more."--when if most other people were to set a boundary like that, it would usually be respected. Source separation can be great, but if someone hasn't separated or doesn't want to, why is it okay to still send them material they're uncomfortable with--or at least, why do people tend to argue that the fictive should "just separate from source" instead? It... Just boils down to alterhumisia toward fictionfolk, honestly. It sucks.

There's a lot of problems with basic respect toward fictionfolk of all kinds--hell, even in the alterhuman community where it's meant to be safe. I don't know if this rant is entirely coherent or not, I don't know if there's anything noteworthy to take from it--but if you do take something from it, let it be that fictionfolk want to be treated like people. Source separated, not source separated, canon divergent or compliant, hearted, linker, 'kin or 'tive--we're people. Don't let our identities change the way you instinctually treat us. Let us be openly us, and treat us as you would anyone else.

[atangledfate]

Lanolin wasn't going to let the current situation get in the way of helping the people here at the infirmary. Especially with the short staff and, Getting some help would let Dawn take a break. She clearly needed it. She knew even she had limits and, even if she said she was fine she had a hunch that wasn't true.

" Then get in touch with them and see what can be worked out. I doubt altriss has time to stop caring for his patients to bother, but i'm sure Nurse Dawn can give you what ever you need. If we can get the civilians to safety then i'm willing to deal... there safety is more important then anything right now. "

Dawn gave Lanolin a nod as she eyed the old man, as she still didn't like him or his wife. but they did need help and the mouse had access to files, numbers, and anything else they might need. Plus she could keep an eye on the GUN soldiers and doctors that came in, just in case they were up to no good.

" I can give you what you need, Altriss is swamped right now... unlike me he can't just make copies of himself... he doesn't have time to stop but, i can cover it! guess i'll be earning that overtime pay... "

=============================================

Her carapace was cracked, it was the equivalent to a concussion for anyone else. But her shell acted as an extra layer of protection. It still hurt and made her feel dizzy and nauseated. Though she expected the worst from the Skunks, it seemed they just wanted to get out of this bad situation. Knowing Clutch he probably didn't give them any other choice. She just needed her world to stop spinning for half a second so she could move.

She opted to just relax but knew closing her eyes was probably a bad idea. She gingerly touched the crack and winced, but at least it wasn't to bad. With a bit of tape, and a bandage she was sure it would heal on its own. The real trouble here was just getting out of the rubble and somewhere safe.

" I had a feeling Clutch swindled you both... Vanilla told me she had a talk with you both. I didn't think it would be enough but ... she had faith in both of you "

She spoke in a softer tone, as she leaned against the one holding her to steady herself.

" I came to get you both out of that cell, before something bad happened. I guess i wasn't fast enough..."

She gave them both a glance and was coming to realize that they maybe weren't so bad. A Little rough around the edges, maybe they just needed a guiding hand and a chance to do the right thing. She'd see if that was true, if they meant what they said---and Vanilla seemed to think so.

" GUN has the place surrounded, isn't anywhere for you to run anymore. Isn't anywhere for any of us to run anymore... if we want to make it out of this Crisis... we need to work together. "

She sat herself up but had to lean against the skunk boy just to steady herself.

" So, How about you two just come work for me... until this is over, i'll consider you my personal body guards. I'm starting to think i could use a couple..."

Twist would keep his opinion on Lanolin's comment about G.U.N to himself as there were more important things. "My contact ain't that high up, though they should be high enough to convince letting us move out civilians. That said, they might ask your crew to help out with that so they may let some more in, though that's a guess." The lemur wasn't sure what policy's had changed since he was honorably discharged from his service due to his injury.

"Though they may want to talk to the head doctor to confirm the number of injured as well as being short of staff. As long as they don't mind being drawn away from their work for a minute or two." Twist knew it wasn't as simple as that as if someone was heavily injured then stopping for even a moment could be dangerous. Still, there is a possibility they'll want to talk to the head doctor.

===========================================================

Tumble was a bit surprised when Jewel just, gave up and let herself fall. The skunk was quick to catch her and it was clear she wasn't looking so hot. "I think she has a point bro. She clearly isn't looking so hot." He was holding the beetle has gently as he could, not wanting to make things worse if he could help it.

"Then we just have to be careful and find a med kit somewhere! I'm doing the best I can!" Rough shouted as he finished busting the hole open and made it into the sewer line. "Sorry for shouting, though we're already back in trouble. I swear, we try to go straight like Ms. Vanilla said, though Clutch just kept asking more and more," the skunk said as she slipped into the hole.

"I guess that's true," Tumble said as he walked over to the hole and gentle lower Jewel in first for Rough to carefully grab before jumping down himself. The two skunk brothers starting to walk down. "Yeah, Ms. Vanilla was very strict about that, though we did try. Clutch just wouldn't stop asking us for stuff." They tried to stay on the straight and narrow, though so much for that.

"Stupid opossum getting us into more trouble. Just when we were about to talk to start talking Mamá again and work things out." Rough would beat up Clutch if he could, though a guy like that was too well connected and had way too much security so what choice did they have. "All we did was sign up to be the mascots, not all of this."

[x--sinner--x]

I love your blog. Tell me what you would do to me if you saw me on the street, meet me in a bar, etc. (No limits, and you can get as graphic as you want.)

Thank you so much.

Well if I ever saw you on the street or at the bar, it doesn't matter where - my first course of action would be to kidnap you - either giving you too much to drink or using chloroform at the right time when there aren't too many people around.

Once you pass out cold, I'll load you into my van and drive to a secluded place where no one visits at all, and it's some place only known to me.

I would tie both your hands behind your back and I'll probably wear a mask. And to raise the stakes I'll wear a mask and I'll put a blindfold on you and plug your ears with cotton so that your senses are isolated.

With you not able to see or hear - and in your passed out state - I'll start first by using your mouth in the car - you can't resist or push me back so I take my good time thrusting in and out of your mouth and cum several times until it drools out of your mouth.

And then I'll drag you out into the woods and tie you to a nearby tree - with you facing it so that I can use your pussy. I'll hold you in a position where your head is resting against the tree, you knelt down - I'll grab your hips and force myself into your wet pussy - even alternating between your asshole and your pussy, making sure I cum in both those holes too.

The alcohol would have knocked you out so good, so there is no risk of you waking up any time soon. And even if you did, it's not like you can run anyway.

Once I'm done with you - I'll just disappear for the day, leaving you there in the woods tied to a tree, cum dripping out of your holes - all naked and blindfolded - and you have no clue where you are or what to do - and you can't even see. Poor girl.

And since this is a place known only to me, your only hope is to pass time in that position until I come back the next day with food.

[just-null]

*gives null his favorite things in hopes of thinking about this*

What if, from all the stalking the Hantengu clones had done to their darling, their darling develops a lot of paranoia and doesn't let anyone near anymore?

Or maybe their darling has a lot of trauma from man going awful, unspeakable things to them?

((I don't know if I should refer to their darling as female or male and that's my first time ever asking a favorite creator of mine, please don't judge me))

((the Darling can be whatever you want them to be, but I'll always be as neutral as possible, so don't worry! 🐸💖))

Considering that these men are also horrible, it's not surprising at all to find yourself going insane! I wasn't sure whether not letting anyone close included the boys or not, so I did both!

[Cw! Yandere behavior, unhealthy dynamics, obsession, manipulation]

Your sudden shift was wonderful at first! They finally had you all to themselves, and it gave them so much more time to evenly spread your attention between themselves without getting into usual fights.

When finding out about your paranoia, they feed into it, affirming your fears about others just to have you rely on them further. Never stray too far, not like you can, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Do you want to go out but you're too scared? Wait, right there, they need to decide who goes first to clear the way while the others stay close by!! that way no one will bother you!

Their favorite hobby is stealing—er—borrowing! so you don't even need to worry about something as silly as money or finance to get what you want again!! All you need to do is ask, and it's yours.

Their bias is prominent. Where hantengu would yelp and shout, they'd laugh and scold, but if you were to do the same, they'd comfort and coo. It's cute.. do you want them to get rid of something for you? Hold you? Comfort you?

Nothing really annoys them (aside from each other) now that you fully rely on them. Be as clingy and jumpy as you want, and they'll coddle you. Being spoiled rotten is the goal as long as you continue to cower at the sight of another soul or the thought of being alone.

They almost seem like decent lovers at some point, solely focusing on you and your needs. Jealousy is at an all time low now that they don't have to worry about anyone else. They even begin to hide their violent tendencies, too happy that you're with them to care.

It gets to the point where THEY had to be the ones to leave for important tasks lest they be.. "scolded" by a man you don't need to stress over.

It's devastating when they separate from you.. When they fight, their attacks are ruthless. Brutal. Bloody.. Even Urogi and Karaku are more productive because the image of their beloved all alone and trembling has their unbeating hearts aching.

Even with all this, they're still scummy rats who work together to make sure things go their way.

Sekido doesn't rile up your paranoia unless you insist on going somewhere alone. "Be careful, don't wander off. Yell and I'll go get you, who knows what's out there." He's content with your fears already. In fact, he's.. sweeter. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, only slightly irritated.

Seeking him out to protect you from something small gets the most blissed out expression from him momentarily. His hold is still as firm as ever, but he doesn't insult you as harshly. Quiet grumbles like "Such a baby.. what is it this time?" are frequent, yet he does whatever you want.

Karaku is NOT helping at all. Ever since he noticed you got jumpier, he thought it'd be fun to make you squirm, though he probably teases too much and makes you cry.. Pointing and gasping at nothing, making noises from other rooms, asking, "Did you hear that?" until you're visibly shaking from every little creak.

But it's okay. He opens his arms every time and pets your head, cooing at you, "D'aww, don't start the waterworks, c'mere. I'll knock it off, I was just playing..! Even if I wasn't, you really think I'd let something get you? Never!"

Urogi probably will give you terrifying heart attacks. Because you're so dependent on them now, he can't contain his love for you the second he sees you. One second, you're conversing with one of the boys, then the next a blur of feathers and glowing yellow eyes barrels towards you, toppling you to the floor.

He can hear your heart beating through your chest as he presses his ear against it. He loves the sound!! "Did I scare you again? Hahaha!! You know it's only me who does this to you!! Anybody else would be dead before they even made contact. I love how warm you are, the thump of your heart, the feel of your skin, everything about you makes me too happy!!"

Aizetsu is your worst enemy.. He needs a damn bell! Each step is too quiet, and he knows this. it's purposeful. You need to remember why you're paranoid in the first place, so he lurks around, letting you find him if he's feeling kind or giving you that feeling of being watched if he's not. He doesn't do it for long, preferring to be the one you hold instead of watching the others make an opportunity out of his methods.

When he lets you find him, he pouts, tilting his head as if you're the one who intruded on him. "Dont mind me, I'm making sure everywhere is safe. Did you need something..? Or did you feel how much i missed you? Oh, you're so nice to me.."

———

But then.. you began growing distant towards them.

They're not sure what happened. Honestly, they might take it as rejection at first and double down until they notice you're TERRIFIED. They pause and regroup, planning their next course of action.

They're not as aggressive, just confused and hurt. Attempts to be considerate come off very stiff, but they're trying. They can tell you're not faking it. The terror in your eyes is undeniable.

They do a 180 and fight often when alone, blaming others, then each other for being too much on you. Their muffled yelling and thumping from fighting are loud enough that you hear, though they try making it up to you later.

Even if they're extremely upset about it, they put their feelings aside for you. There's no use talking to someone who won't listen.

Their attitudes get a lot more cautious but desperate. They've dealt with Hantengu's jumpiness and constant crying before, but being the cause in your case makes this more complicated..

They attempt to give you your space, and insist you stay home. Don't like the home you have? They'll find you a new one, a better one, and promise not to get too close. Give them some time. After that, they get rid of any external factors that could be harmful to you.

Unsurprisingly, they can't help themselves and will try to approach and speak to you, even if behind a wall or at a distance. Probably set up a wall divider just so you don't feel as scared to speak to them.

They're desperate and want what they once had with you.. please don't shut them out. this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Emotional reassurance isn't their strong suit (ironically). They never comfort anybody, not even Hantengu. Combat is their expertise! In their mind, fixing the problem outside will fix the problem inside ..At least, fingers crossed that they do.

It's because of those villains out there that you're so scared in the first place. What kind of disgusting shameless bastards assume they get the privilege to think of you, much less be near you?! The second they know what these "men's" faces look like, their insides will decorate the ground and-!

Ahem—

Let's just say they took a page from Akaza's book and treat men a little meaner than women. As in, making sure at least one bone of theirs is broken if they so much as breathe in your direction.

During the attempt at rehabilitation, they fall into roles according to how they handle you.

Sekido is your bodyguard that makes sure the others behave and you're taking care of yourself. His once long fuse shortened since he began blaming the others for your paranoia. He can't help but be protective. As much as he hates it, he won't focus on anything if he knows you're unwell. He doesn't say much aside from grunts and scoffs in hopes of not scaring you further.

Karaku tries to lighten the mood and fills the silence with stories about what he's seen throughout his life, excluding the violent and aggressive details. Maybe even random stories he's heard, just to try and get your mind off of whatever is troubling you. He doesn't speak directly to you but around you so that you'll probably overhear.

Urogi is the material comfort, bringing you gifts that the others check before they get left outside your room. The gifts aren't as ripped or scratched as they would usually be, but that's because he's trying extra hard to give you something that'll hopefully make you feel better! With his talons and excitement, Urogi doesn't see you as much anymore unless it's through the window when you're asleep.

Aizetsu is the one who frequently speaks to you. He loves gathering information about you and hearing you speak in general. It's a pity you speak less, and when you do, there's a slight tremble.. it's cute, but you sound so miserable.. His airy, soft voice and gentle attitude grow sweeter when announcing himself, "How are you feeling? it kills me to see you like this.. please, tell me what to do to make everything better.”

The eyes you feel get worse since they're overprotective of you. At least they're not as secretive about it! They're insistent and happy that you avoid other people all together, though it'd be much better if they were an exception!

[mimorobo]

if you don't mind, could you go through your creative process? how you make your puppets, how you animate them and such?

Sure thing anon! I'll try my best..

First of all though don't expect anything AMAZING because this is super unprofessional and I basically improvise most of it, so uh, yeah.

I was making Frisk so we'll use them as an example I guess.

I make a base for the character first thing, using polystyrene ( DO NOT USE CHESTNUTS, your welcome) and pipe cleaners. (You can see I put Frisk's colours there too, cuz I think it's cool but it also serves an actual purpose... You can probably guess too ;))

(I added the stripes on the sleeves too, for Frisk it's because of that one sprite - you know the one! - and Chara weeellll, they're actually based on TS!UNDERSWAP Chara and they have the stripe there, also it just looks better...imo)

Then I just make the rest of the character, typically I start from down, up. I try to keep as close to the original sprites as possible, don't add anything and make sure it's simple. So with the hair only those slight details you can see and the clothes have just the stripes. Unfortunately I couldn't make a real onesie for Frisk :(

Don't really know how to explain this ... So I'll just jot down some things I do or I've learnt from working on them.

Whenever there's something on a character's clothes (eg. Frisk's stripes), I do that first before closing off the shirt, it saves an awkward hassle later.

If there's supposed to be a joint (e.g. knees, elbows) I separate the felt there. So I know where the joint is when I'm animating and it's easier to bend without restrictions. (You can most probably see this on Chara and Frisk)

The hands are my favourite to do! I make a skeleton hand (basically) out of wire and then stitch two hand shaped felts around it so that the wire is inside and you have posable fingers!!

The head is usually the trickiest part, (I never know how to do the hair!!) for me it's just trial and error, there's no point in planning it out on paper because I wouldn't even know where to BEGIN!! That's just me though!

The eyes and mouth need to be changeable, so no glue or anything, I just stick em on and they... Stay there. Sometimes.

WARNING! The amount of needles and felt pieces you will lose is catastrophic. You have been warned...

I used Chara as a reference here, copying what I'd done to get another fallen human...

And.... You got yourself a puppet!! :D

For a Chara sized puppet it takes 2-3 days, Flowey was done in one. Sometimes I come back and fix something up, or replace it, if I don't like it. I'll most probably do that to everyone at some point :'(

I'll make another one of these to show how I animate these guys, cuz I don't want this to be too long.

Also if anyone understood any of that and if you DO make a puppet based on this, I'd really love to see it! :D

[thezombieprostitute]

Dr. Hot Stuff

Summary: You're probably the only nurse who hasn't slept with Surgeon Johnny Storm and you're happy to keep it that way.

Warnings: Age gap, Implied smut, Medical setting, Talk about surgeries. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Many thanks to @bigtreefest for help with the medical terminology and more!

A/N2: Reader is 35+ years old and female. No other physical descriptors used.

You feel like a zombie, asleep on your feet after an incredibly long surgery. As much as you liked being Dr. Beck's go-to nurse for long and complicated surgeries, it still took a hell of a toll on you. As soon as you were cleaned up and in fresh scrubs, you were headed to the sleeping area.

When the doorknob doesn't turn you blink as your brain tries to process why you're not already laying down. You try a few more times but nothing. Is it stuck? It's not supposed to be locked.

Then the sounds of giggles and moans pierce through your brain fog and you put the pieces together. Dr. Johnny Storm, aka Dr. Hot Stuff, doing his regular, pre-surgery "ritual" with one of the nurses. You roll your eyes and shake your head. You should break down the door just out of fully justified spite! But you know you won't get much support. Apparently Dr. Hot Stuff earned his nickname. If there's one thing you'll give Storm, it's that his partners have no complaints, and they are the type to complain.

You slink off to the break room to find a recliner for a nap.

You're startled awake by Johnny loudly celebrating his latest successful surgery. He's proudly proclaiming his mastery over the appendectomy to anyone and everyone who will hear. You roll your eyes and start getting out of the recliner. You should be used to these kinds of things by now. Young surgeons are always so loud and proud.

Before you can get out of the recliner, though, Johnny steps in front of you.

"If it isn't my favorite veteran nurse," he smirks.

"What do you want, Dr. Storm," you sigh.

"You know you can call me Johnny, like all the other nurses, right?" he raises an eyebrow, grin never dropping. "I'm just trying to be friendly but you keep shutting me out."

"I just woke up, Johnny. And I'm still very tired. I'd be friendlier if I could've actually slept in a bed." You give him your best glare, hoping it would get him to back off, maybe apologize.

Instead his smile widens, "oh, sorry about that. Next time I'll make sure you get to join in." He winks and you scoff.

"I'm out of here," you shake your head. "I've gotta get back to work."

"Wait, please, I wanna talk to you!"

"About what?"

His facial expression changes into puppy dog eyes that your certain would work on a younger you. "Can you put in a good word for me with Dr. Beck?"

Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion. "What?"

"I'm doing so damn well with these appendectomies and cholecystectomies that I could do them in my sleep," he explains. "I want to get into doing the interesting surgeries, the ones that'll help my career, you know?"

"You haven't mastered the mundane yet," you tell him and he rolls his eyes while giving you a groan. "It's incredibly important for surgeons, especially new ones like yourself, to get experience with the variety that can come from even a simple procedure."

"What variety?" he protests. "It's all the same procedure. The same hand motions. The same instructions."

“You’re about to sever the common bile duct but your view is partially blocked by a section of hard adipose tissue. What do you do?”

"Predict where the duct continues under the fat tissue and make the incision,” he shrugs as if it should be obvious.

“WRONG," you loudly scold. "You just nicked the hepatic artery. Your patient is bleeding out.”

He starts pouting but you continue to grill him. You can tell he's studied but he's just too inexperienced and he continually falls short. Given how red he's getting, you can tell he knows it as well. When you finally let up on the questions he backs up so you can get out of the recliner but he's definitely not happy.

"Bet you'd put in a good word for me if you helped me with my pre-surgery ritual," he grouses.

"Not gonna happen, Junior."

"You sure?" he raises an eyebrow in that way you know works on the younger nurses. "I bet I could make you feel young again."

"I'm sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get back to work."

"I'll get you to change your mind one of these days," he promises with a wink.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Ooo! Giving me permission to think of you next time I can't sleep?"

You facepalm. "I walked right into that one."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[avionvadion]

Eleanora and Skully's New Years outfits!

Skully started part-timing before January hit, I think, since he can't just rely on Eleanora's allowance from her new dads all the time. Trey is an occasional part-timer (because I really love his outfit here and he's one of my bois) so he gets dragged into the New Years fuss, especially since Skully does need help with certain things as he's still learning about modern day. There's a lot he doesn't know, but severely needs the money since his daddy, the Halloween King, is, uh... long-since dead.

Honestly probably where Eleanora gets all the money she needs to buy Fellow decent clothes in town (which is how El and Kalim end up getting abducted and meeting Zaahira, hehehehehe) since Sam brings her in to act as damage control so his intimidating lottery crew don't scare customers away. Gidel typically stays with Fellow in Ramshackle (since Fellow comes back at the start of January) but is so used to Skully and El being around that he ends up missing them and drags Fellow to the Mystery Shop to visit. Grim is at Heartslabyul so someone can keep an eye on him.

The hilarity of Malleus simultaneously being the reason Sam hired Eleanora but also being the reason that she has to greet customers from outside in the cold...

Sam, upon recruiting Eleanora: "Just smile and wave, and invite the customers in! Lure them into a false sense of security so the scary little imps inside can intimidate them into buying things."

El: "....Isn't that coercion?"

Sam: "I call it... good business!"

Malleus:

Sam: "Also you have to stay outside so a certain little imp doesn't get distracted."

Malleus, raising a brow, mildly offended:

El: "..."

Sam: "You get to sit in a chair? And I'll bring you hot cocoa every now and then. The fur shawl you have should help keep you warm, too. I'll even toss in an umbrella so the snow doesn't fall on you! Won't you help out your good ol' pal, Sam?"

El: "I'm getting paid for this, right?"

Sam: "Yup. Same as the Little Imps."

El: "...Okay, yeah. Sure! Sounds good."

[a-chronic-overthinker]

Abstragedy Week Day 3 - Hurt/comfort

Knock-knock-knock.

Zooble knocked on Gangle’s door for probably the tenth day in a row, awaiting a response. They had been visiting her every day since they got back from the Spudsy’s adventure. Gangle had seemed sadder and more quiet since then -if that was even possible- and Zooble wanted to be sure they were okay. Besides, they always enjoyed Gangle’s company. And she had opened the door and welcomed them in every day (except today, apparently.) Just as Zooble turned away and was about to walk back to their room - they must have all gone on one of Caine’s adventures again, they thought - the door creaked open and Gangle’s mournful face offered Zooble a smile once again. They sat together in the vermillion room, decorated with red silk bows and littered with sketchbook paper and pencils. “Zooble?” she squeaked, anxiety in her voice. “Can I talk to you about something?” Zooble nodded, their eyes suddenly filled with concern. “Yeah? Was it Jax again?” "No, he’s not the problem. I am." she said, big tears surfacing from her voidlike eyes. "I really appreciate it. But you don't need to do this for me. I don't want you to feel bad for me, if you think I'm annoying you can say so and I'll leave you alone."

"What?" Zooble could have laughed at the idea of finding Gangle, practically the only good thing they had in the Circus, annoying. But they could barely put words together, her statement not fully registering. "Why... why would you think... who told you that?"

"Remember the fast food adventure? That's what Jax told me. And Ragatha too... I don't think she would have said it out loud, but she had some of that sauce? I don't know, I guess it made her more honest...." Gangle trailed off. "I just... I don't really know anymore."

"Gangle..." Zooble had so much they wanted to tell her, they wanted to stay with her as she cried, and fall asleep, safe in each others' arms... but everything was coming too fast again and all they could say was, "Why would I think that?"

Gangle blinked, wiping away a tear only for a new one to appear in its place. “W-what?”

“I mean,” Zooble said slowly, searching for the right words, “you’re the only person in this whole damn circus that I care about. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. I-” They were interrupted by the firm grasp of Gangle’s arms around their shoulders. “Thank you.” Gangle whispered. And Zooble wordlessly returned the hug. After they pulled away from each other, they just sat there, leaning against Gangle’s four poster bed. It wasn’t awkward really, they could just stay for as long as they wanted, being in each other’s presence. “I mean,” Zooble mused, “what reason would I have not to be honest with you? If I didn’t want to come over, I wouldn’t have. I do that all the time with Caine anyway…” and they suddenly became aware of what they were saying - oh shit why did I say that she probably doesn’t want to talk about it anymore we were doing fine and of course I had to go ruin it what the fuck is wrong with me -

But then Gangle cracked a smile. And she started to giggle. Which made Zooble smile too, and before they knew it they were both laughing together, gasping for breath, not even knowing why. It had been so long since Zooble had heard that sound out of their own mouth, and when they had both calmed down, they looked lovingly at each other.

Like they were the only people in the world.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Well, aren't these delightful?" Travis said, grinning as he looked over then, "I think I'll really love this grey and black stripy pair. Wait until the gym guys see this."

He then moved so he could take off the gym socks he had been wearing. It was time to let Erica have her break and make this guy shut up entirely.

"Yeah, you did, heh, you did tell me," Russell agreed, and he nodded in agreement with Erica, "And, and yeah, that, that did happen."

Russell awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck when he saw Lucien's reaction.

"I'm, I'm sure we'll, we'll get him out, out of here soon enough," Russell said to Lucien then, some sympathy in his face, "Now that, now that Rook's here I, I mean."

"I mean I probably would have suggested taking him if Custard hadn't said it," Travis said with a shrug, "But that would have been for revenge rather than pragmatism. I'm not the guy who had grow up being sneaky after all. But I suppose there is a first time for everything, even for people with your experiences."

Russell nodded.

"I, I guess not," Russell said, "And to, to be honest, it shows that, that we got something they, they don't have. As, as cliche as it might sound, we, we got each other's backs and, and we care about each other. They, they don't."

"And now you're starting to sound like Lewis," Travis joked, as he walked over, having put the new socks on and gotten the awful gym socks in his hand, "Open wide, asshole. Got a treat for you."

Russell felt a little shiver of fear push through him at the idea of Antonio coming into play, even if he didn't know entirely why.

"Big bro?" Travis asked.

"The, the magician with, with the cane," Russell confirmed. He decided not to mention anything feline about Antonio just in case that made Ratchet not take that seriously.

"The one with the really weird green glowing..." Travis started to ask.

"Y-yeah," Russell said, "It, it makes sense. He, he'll most likely be, be able to, be able to get him talking when, when we need him to."

"Want me to help bring him over to your magic man?" Travis said, "I got plenty of muscle to spare."

Erica smiled as she struggled to keep ahold of her excitement. Inside the bag were several pairs of cat paw socks wrapped in a yellow ribbon.

"I didn’t know what’s your favorite cat. So I got them all!"

So now they could get Ratchet away from her shadows and shut him up properly.

At least Rook didn’t seem too upset about there being a hostage whimpering on the floor. Being free to kick him definitely improved her mood.

"I bet you're having a great time, you fucking weirdo." Rook spat, before looking back, "…I told you guys not to look."

"She did." Erica confirmed, "And he did. But I didn’t do much about it because we need him still breathing."

"Really?" Rook turned back to Ratchet, "We've got to reward him appropriately for the courtesy."

Erica tilted her head while she watched her double went through some motions with her hands, before Ratchet started shivering. "Winter is coming!"

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a tired sigh. He wouldn’t mind as much if this wasn’t happening on the floor of his shop, but he had offered.

"It's fine, Russell. I’m not mad at you for getting the idea. I'm just— New to the kidnapping business. But I guess there is a first for everything with these motherfuckers."

"At least we now have the confirmation they are awful to each other as well." Lucien said, "I suppose the brutality wasn't personal after all."

"Well, I guess we can try to pry some information from this asshole." Rook said, crouching next to Ratchet, "That's right. You’re going to have a little chat with my big bro."

"Yes!" Erica cheered.