#so it’s already minimal pressure

[twistedappletree]

why are all my friends so afraid of dOING SHIT

[fideidefenswhore]

Both girls were delighted with their new brother-- Mary for maternal reasons, and Elizabeth because it gave her a playmate nearer to her own age. By March 1537, the Sheltons had no longer been in charge of the girls' household, which must have been a relief to Mary.

Elizabeth's Women, Tracy Borman

[misskamelie]

Every interaction I have with my peers is always somehow permeated by a halo of "they can tell there's something off about me"

[golvio]

The Republican Party is run by Christian Zionists who are convinced that starting WW III in Jerusalem will fulfill an apocalyptic prophecy that will automatically teleport them to heaven. As horrible as the Palestinian genocide is under these crusty old war hawks who’ve been baying for blood and oil since the Iran-Contra era, I guarantee you it will be ten million times worse if Donnie takes control and he has the entire Christian Dominionist donor convention hissing flattery into his ears.

It sucks balls, but if it comes down to it, we have to vote pragmatically. And even if you don’t want to cast your vote for the Lesser Evil and put Harambe as the write-in candidate instead, at least show up to the polls to make sure your county government doesn’t vote some whackadoodle Liberty Mom who wants to put all gay teachers into a wood chipper onto your school board.

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau put forward a new regulation to limit bank overdraft fees. The CFPB pointed out that the average overdraft fee is $35 even though majority of overdrafts are under $26 and paid back with-in 3 days. The new regulation will push overdraft fees down to as little as $3 and not more than $14, saving the American public collectively 3.5 billion dollars a year.

The Environmental Protection Agency put forward a regulation to fine oil and gas companies for emitting methane. Methane is the second most abundant greenhouse gas, after CO2 and is responsible for 30% of the rise of global temperatures. This represents the first time the federal government has taxed a greenhouse gas. The EPA believes this rule will help reduce methane emissions by 80%

The Energy Department has awarded $104 million in grants to support clean energy projects at federal buildings, including solar panels at the Pentagon. The federal government is the biggest consumer of energy in the nation. The project is part Biden's goal of reducing the federal government's greenhouse gas emissions by 65% by 2030. The Energy Department estimates it'll save taxpayers $29 million in the first year alone and will have the same impact on emissions as taking over 23,000 gas powered cars off the road.

The Education Department has cancelled 5 billion more dollars of student loan debt. This will effect 74,000 more borrowers, this brings the total number of people who've had their student loan debt forgiven under Biden through different programs to 3.7 Million

U.S. Agency for International Development has launched a program to combat lead exposure in developing countries like South Africa and India. Lead kills 1.6 million people every year, more than malaria and AIDS put together.

Congressional Democrats have reached a deal with their Republican counter parts to revive the expanded the Child Tax Credit. The bill will benefit 16 million children in its first year and is expected to lift 400,000 children out of poverty in its first year. The proposed deal also has a housing provision that could see 200,000 new affordable rental units

[pumpking64]

I will write these exams in pure spite, I will be absolutely foaming at times, so I am honestly a bit concerned about my keyboard. if it survives my angry exam-writing this may I have no other requests to my computer in it's final years (except maybe don't delete everything when you stop functioning)

[nap-thym3]

Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert 🌊

Part-One /Fluff/1,886 Words

____________

Synopsis: In which when I first played pressure I just stood and stared at Sebastian’s character model for a solid five minutes. So this was born. yayayaya

____________

Army crawling on your knees and elbows, your chest rattles with your wheezing breaths. Truth was, you’d never been an active person. The most legwork you’d gotten in a day was typically at work, and even then, that was minimal. Suffice to say, being thrust into this shitshow of a scenario where running from constant threats was the norm, the situation couldn’t be anymore dire.

You wave a hand about in front of yourself, fanning away the disrupted layers of dust that fluttered in the cramped ventilation shaft as your rasping coughs bounce off the walls and create a cacophony of god-awful racket. You mutter a slew of curses to yourself, clapping your palm over your nose and mouth in a pitiful attempt to stifle your coughing fit. It would be just your luck for a nearby eldritch-horror to overhear your pathetic, asthmatic-self in the vents and drag you out by the ankles. The thought alone brings an electrifying jolt of anxiety through your person, and if you had the space you’d be looking over your shoulder in paranoia. Alas, the best you could do was put your jittering nerves to use and crawl just that little bit faster. Honestly, it was an accomplishment in of itself that you managed to shimmy-shammy your adult self into such a claustrophobic passage in the first place. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve just marched straight past the most convenient and inviting looking vent in the world. Probably assuming it to be a blatant trap. Except, you did know better. Just a few feet ahead lay maybe the only place in the entire bowels of this hellscape where you felt you were well and truly safe.

Crawling out of the shaft like an NYC subway rat, you’re finally free to hack up your lungs in peace without fear of death by angler. At least, no death from this one in particular. Blindly you lean back to sit on your haunches, eyes straining to pick up any movement in the darkness.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your shoulder’s jump as a voice drawls from the far-side of the room. Soon after, a gentle glow begins to illuminate the occupied space.

Now with your gracious host offering you visibility, you blink your adjusting vision over to watch as Sebastian seemingly just wraps up whatever file he’d been perusing in the dark. Before you can even attempt to try and sneak a peek at whatever he’d been reading, said folder closes shut with a swift snap. The merchant then carefully tucks the item away into his inner-coat’s pocket. A shame, your snooping has been so swiftly shut down before it ever had a chance to begin- you pout at the missed opportunity. Sebastian catches your longing gaze fixated on his coat, and gives a condescending little pat to the area where you know the concealed document is to be hiding. Wordlessly daring you to even try. Cheeky fish.

“Not even a ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you’? I could’ve been dying in there!” You bemoan in a familiar way of greeting, gesticulating between yourselves wildly as you saunter forward. Sebastian, unphased by your usual eccentricities, drags an unimpressed eye over your much smaller form. Analyzing. Probably looking at your absolutely filthy diving suit- sweat-drenched and caked in dust, grime, and maybe even a little bit of blood as it was. At least you assumed so, if the distaste visibly evident in his features was anything to go by.

“I was hoping whoever it was would die a little more quickly.” Was his dry response, before turning his head in indifference; seeming to have found whatever it was he was looking for on your person.

You scoff, “I see chivalry really is dead.” You gripe without any real bite in your voice. Already beginning to survey the merchant’s wares. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he begins to preen over his nails, pretending to be checking for dirt. Or blood, you didn’t know the guy well enough to say for certain what he did in his free-time. Your attention travels upwards, from his large hands up to his round face. The light emanating from his angler’s bulb casts an almost ethereal glow to his features. Especially with the way his eyes gleam that cerulean blue that’s quickly becoming a favorite color of yours. In addition to these qualities, there’s a very light sprinkling of bioluminescent freckles smattered across his cheeks. Sort of reminiscent to that of stars. Idly your fingers twitch, the sudden urge to reach up and map them like constellations startlingly strong. All these qualities make Sebastian feel so surreal, so out of this world. In juxtaposition to all of that, you’re confident to say that if he had the means, he’d be snobbishly turning his nose up at you right about now. The mental image brings a small, secretive smile to your face.

Sebastian rolls his eyes- or at least, you get the impression that he does. His lack of distinctive pupils makes it hard to tell.

“Are you going to actually buy something today?” He snips, cocking out a hip. “Or are you just going to keep gawking at me?” The merchant sneers through grit teeth(or maybe that was just his face?).

Snapping out of your reverie, caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie-jar, blood rushes to your head as you grin sheepishly up at his accusatory glare.

“Sorry, you’re just…” you wave a hand up beside yourself, willing the right words to come to you. Sebastian, amused by your silent floundering, quirks a knowing eyebrow at you. As if saying ‘Go on?’ The soundless goading sends you into a mental spiral- what did that mean? What did he think you were going to say? God- you don’t want to accidentally offend him, but you also don’t want to sound like a complete idiot. You gulp, mouth opening and closing a few times as you attempt to formulate words that will appease him.

Seemingly tired of you embarrassing yourself, Sebastian moved to speak, assumedly in an act of mercy from this sad display. Quickly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, before he could beat you to the punch.

“You’re just really pretty.” Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth. Yup. Those are. Definitely words that you just said. To his face.

Muscles tensing, you brace for his reaction. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, disgust, maybe? Mocking laughter, most probably. Any and all situations your brain can conjure up are absolutely humiliating in equal measure. However, as one moment drags into two, and the silence has still yet to be breached, you cautiously look Sebastian’s way. The sight that greets you is a rare one. The infamous Z-13, Sebastian Solace, is left speechless.

The Merchant’s smug expression falters, a look of genuine astonishment crossing his face. The dim light cast by his lure does little to mask the way his stature curls inwards slightly. A slight too much, in your opinion. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching- as though internally wrestling with a response. Just as you had been a moment prior. The knowledge that he was just as at a loss for words as you were eases the tension in your shoulders, if only by a hair. Miser so does love its company, after-all. There’s a brief pause, heavy and awkward, until he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual.

“Pretty?” he echoes, almost disbelievingly. He then swallows, visibly thrown off-kilter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called… At-At least- that is to say, not in a good long while.” The second half of his sentence is murmured, as if mostly said to himself. But you had overheard, and he looks as if to have noticed the way your brows pinch in a confusing whirlpool of emotions. Mostly sympathy, pity, among other emotions neither of you were too entirely ready to put out on the table. God forbid you two express emotional maturity and speak plainly like adults. Sebastian flexes his long tail, the serpentine appendage looking as if it were going to either pull or push you away. However, before it can make any progress in either endeavor, Sebastian, -noticeably uncomfortable- clears his throat.

“Silly little thing.” He croons, swooping down from his towering height to give you a patronizing pinch to the cheek with his clawed index and thumb. “You should be mindful of your tongue, hmmm?” As he speaks, his usual edge returns to his voice. Your head helplessly tilts side-to-side with the motion of his ‘affection’. Affronted, and a little whip-lashed with his quick recovery, you swat the offending hand away from your face.

“Jerk! I was trying to be nice!” Despite the biting words, you can’t help but feel relieved to be set back on familiar ground. Whatever emotional vulnerability present in the moment prior was slowly ebbing away, returning to your regularly scheduled squabbling. Sebastian chuckles, bodily retreating to his previous stature and re-clasping his hands before himself with an echoing ‘clap’. You rub at your reddened cheeks, whether their heat was due to Sebastian’s rough treatment or from an entirely other emotion, was only for you to know.

Sebastian continues on distractedly, seeming to have already recollected his composure. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, you know. But… thanks.” You think you see his eyes dart away for a brief moment, before locking onto yours again. A curl of his typical smirk splaying across his lips.

You gasp dramatically, a goofy smile erupting on your face. “The mighty Sebastian? Saying thanks?” You tease.

Sebastian waves a hand about in the air dismissively. “Yeah yeah, just don’t let it get to your head.” He says, crossing his arms defensively. He steamrolls on before you get anymore wise ideas to- eugh, compliment him. “Now hurry up and buy something already!” He snaps, motioning to the various goodies strapped to his person. Not having to be told thrice now, you hurry and make your selections. Eager to move on from everything and anything to do with word ‘cute’. Nothing major, just a few batteries for the road and a mobile hacker or two. Sebastian seems to approve of your choices, and if the price he demands of you seems a little cheaper than the usual- well. You certainly weren’t going to complain.

Getting everything tucked neatly away and ready to go, you begin to trek back towards the vent before being stopped once more by Sebastian.

“Oh! And Traveller?” He calls. With an answering hum, you look back to maybe your only friend down here. The merchant in question seems to look like he’s turning something over in his head, before continuing with a withering sigh.

“Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright? I’d hate to lose such a profitable costumer.” He sing-songs grimly. Despite the harsh words, you can’t help but notice a slight undertone of warm endearment. Feeling like a certified Sebastian-whisperer, you pride swells in your chest at being able to read between the lines. With a barely concealed snicker at his thinly-veiled concern, you toss a final farewell his way before retreating. All throughout the next dozen or so rooms, you journey forward with a skip in your step. Feeling invigorated with newfound determination knowing that a certain merchant was counting on your safe return.

______________

eeeughh I’m so rusty with writing. Like. It’s not even funny how long this took me for just a one-shot? Idk I might continue this, I just suck so bad at staying motivated for fanfics. Anywho, hope any fellow Sebastian enjoyers out there liked this, there’s not enough content out there of him👍 please make more content guys pls I’m starved for the fics puh-LEASEE

[toxicanonymity]

hello, my dearest Toxy🩶

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

the gusset

2k, "daddy" Joel x f!reader x uncle tommy

Tyvm for the inspo, Aly! And for all your beautiful gifs🖤 love you *forehead kiss*. 18+ MDNI cumplay, smut, incidental incest via double vag penetration & cum cleanup. ain't your thing? scroll on by. don't overthink it, mild weather, reader can wear Joel's shirt. masterlists: joel & uncle tommy, joel.

“What's wrong, baby?” Joel asks in the rearview mirror as you squirm in your seat.

“Nothing, daddy. I'm just kinda--I'm fine.”

“You’re doin’ great, baby,” he says.

Uncle Tommy sympathizes, “panties take some gettin’ used to if ya’ain’t used to wearin’em, huh cupcake?”

Well, dry panties would be a different story. These are filled. They made sure of it before y’all left the house. One load from Tommy and two from Joel.

Each moment that passes, more of their spend oozes out of you and onto the soaked gusset. It's pouring out of you faster than the cotton gusset could absorb it, even if it weren't already soaked through. The abundance of cum has built up and formed a little pillow along your crotch. A growing pillow, threatening to spill under the elastic edges of the panties.

It's farmer’s market day. That's when Joel hauls some produce from Lincoln to the Boston QZ perimeter to trade. Last night, Tommy volunteered to do the job, and when you dared to ask if you could join, Joel said, let's all go. Joel hated to let you out of his sight and he couldn't bear to do it in public. You almost wonder if he filled you up on purpose so you wouldn't want to get out of the truck.

Now the bed of the truck is loaded with apples and peaches. You’re slouching in the back seat of the extended cab, trying to minimize the pressure on your panties. If the growing bulge of semen were to breach the underwear, it would be an even bigger mess than it already felt like.

It’s been turning you on, feeling their thick, warm seed ooze from your hole and fill up your whole slit, bit by bit. Gush by gush, it's occupied every crevice of your parts, coating the puffy outer lips of your tired pussy, then accumulating between the cotton and you.

While arousal stirs in your belly, your skin is hot with embarrassment knowing you’re going out in public. It feels indecent. Which somehow makes it hotter, at the same time. It’s an awful cycle, and the throbbing of your cunt churning out slick isn’t helping the near-overflow situation.

Joel glances in the rearview twice more, then suggests, “Why don't ya come sit in uncle Tommy's lap?”

“It's okay,” you reply.

Not used to your rejection, Tommy turns around with big, gentle eyes and a furrowed brow. “What's goin’ on, babygirl?”

Joel pulls over and your heart speeds up as the wheels slow on the pavement.

-

With the car in park, Joel unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches to the back seat. His tan forearm flexes with his green flannel rolled up over his elbow as he unbuckles your seatbelt. “Spread your legs, darlin’. an’ hike up that dress for me.”

You pull your dress up and spread your knees slightly.

“Spread’em, sugar. C’mon now, nothin’ to be shy about.”

You spread your legs wide, earning a soft, “Good girl,” from your daddy as his gaze settles between your legs and the bittersweet scent wafts to his nostrils and yours. Wetness trickles from your cunt into the crack of your butt. Joel reaches further and softly pats the soft, inflated crotch of your panties with his thumb. A drop escapes the side and he gives a low whistle.

Tommy looks back, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the view, then his cheeks fill with air as he exhales.

“I’ll fix ya, baby. Hold on,” Joel exits the truck.

As Joel stands outside the truck and straightens his shirt, Tommy smiles at you and says, “Didn’t ‘spect ya to leak that much. We fucked ya wide open, didn’t we?”

Your upper body heats up and your lower body throbs as you remember how they did it.

~~~~///~~~~~

Tommy was laid back on the bed, reclining against the headboard, with you between his legs, speared on his cock. He had been fucking you excruciatingly slow in small strokes from the bottom, and you were gushing, desperate for more. He cradled your naked breasts and gushed, “She’s such a good girl,” with his cock stiff and throbbing in your cunt. He paused his movements.

“She sure is,” Joel agreed.

Tommy tilted his hips down and asked, “You good, cupcake?”

“Mmm,” you answered, lacking words. “Daddy” you looked at Joel with pleading eyes. You savored the brief burn as Joel squeezed his own tip into your occupied entrance right along with Uncle Tommy's cock. Joel leaned down and gave you a kiss as he let your body catch up. Then he asked, “Ready, baby?”, and you nodded dreamily. Dripping wet and ready.

Joel pushed his hips forward, stretching you with his rock hard manhood, more than doubling the girth inside you. At the same time, Tommy tilted his hips up to spear you deeper.

Your mouth hung open and you grunted with the stretch, then moaned at the push of their stiff cocks against your walls. You were packed full and could swear your sensitive walls felt the heartbeats of both dicks that were crammed inside you. Joel admired your face and when half his mouth broke into a smile, you realized you were drooling. From both mouths.

~~~~///~~~~~

Joel opens your door and gives your thigh a squeeze. “Lay back for me, darlin’.”

You lie flat on your back, and Joel arranges your legs so one foot is on the floor and one is on the seat, with your knee up. He lifts your dress higher and you feel air on your lower abdomen.

He gently thumbs your swollen panties, feeling the pocket of cum move under his touch. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. He slides his thumb gently up and down, watching the bulge move under the cotton, and you flinch in pleasure.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers and palms himself in the front seat. The tips of Joel’s fingers rest warmly on the skin of your lower abdomen as he gently rubs your crotch with his massive thumb. He rubs with an upward stroke over your entrance, working some of the cum upward. The wetness creeps up your mound as he works to spread it. Each time his thumb passes over your clit, more tension builds in your core.

“Well shit,” Tommy marvels, watching. It must show on your face. “Can’t get enough, can she?”

Your hips begin to lift into Joel’s hand, and he watches your chest rise and fall. He settles into a trance, thumb moving on its own at a slow rhythm as he watches your nipples harden and feels you getting closer. “Daddy,” you whimper, and he pauses his efforts to rub you for pleasure. His thumb speeds up. “Daddy,” you whimper again, and unravel into a moan as you reach your peak.

Your walls spasm and push more cum out of you, creating a warm new bubble beneath the damp cotton Joel had just flattened. A growl escapes Joel’s chest at the sight. He pauses, then grabs you by both thighs to pull you closer to the door. The echo of your orgasm continues to ooze more of their seed out of you.

Tommy shudders, and you hear the squish of his fist around his cock. “Fill’er back up?” He offers.

Joel nods at him in agreement. You sigh in resignation to the utter mess between your legs. “It’s okay baby, I'll clean ya up,” Joel reassures you as Tommy exits the truck.

-

Joel steps out of the way and you look up to see Tommy’s kind eyes glued between your legs as he slowly strokes himself. “Ffuuck,” he mutters, and pulls you almost off the edge of the seat. “Sit up, honey,” he breathes, and you do.

With his thumb, he yanks your panties to the side, and the elastic crackles past its limit. Then you wrap your hands around his neck as he pulls you off the seat. You bury your face in his hair and whimper as he impales you on his cock. You sink onto him with ease, plugging what's left of the earlier cum, pushing it back up into you. He firmly holds your bottom, then begins to erupt, pulling you onto him as his seed throbs into you. His body jerks with a broken moan. He sighs as he finishes.

“Good girl,” he whispers with a squeeze of your butt, then bends his knees and helps you back onto the seat. He slides out of you and helps fix the crotch of your panties to cover you up again. Cum drips onto the leather beneath you. A product of the extra load as well as the loosened elastic on one side.

Tommy stuffs himself back in his jeans and gives Joel a nod.

“fraid it’s just gonna come right out,” Tommy chuckles.

“Savin' mine for the ride home,” Joel says, cupping his balls then squeezing the thick sausage sitting on his thigh before adding, “You're drivin’ home, buddy.”

“You got it,” Tommy agrees as he goes back around the truck.

-

You start to put your dress back down and Joel stops you with a gentle “not yet, darlin’, lemme see.”

He collects the spilled cum from the leather with a swipe of his thumb, then brings it to your lips. He presses his thumb gently into your mouth, against your soft tongue. You suck the digit clean. “good girl,” he says, “Lay down again for me.”

Joel kisses his sticky thumb as you assume the position again.

He uses the same thumb to trace the slightly loosened edge of the panties' crotch, then the other edge. “daddy, wait—If I come again, it’s gonna make a big mess,” you warn him.

“I know, babygirl. Ain’t gotta cum. Just relax.”

You trust him enough to un-tense your muscles and let him clean up.

“Attagirl.”

He dips his head between your legs and starts low, on your inner thigh where it meets your butt. He licks along the edge of the panties, dipping his tongue slightly under the crotch then forcing himself to withdraw it without going further. He goes back to tracing the edge.

When he’s licked up the seed that spilled from the gusset, he blows along the pantyline, then presses a soft kiss against your mound. He inspects the other side and repeats the remedy, although there isn’t as much to clean up. He taps his thumb against the cotton that covers your entrance, feeling only a small amount of cum give way. Far less than the earlier pillow.

He presses a soft kiss on your lower belly, just above your panties, then looks up and studies your face as he puts your dress back down. “Lay like that if ya want, baby. we’re almost there." He gives your thigh a squeeze and winks at you before closing the door.

Before putting the truck in drive, Joel looks back and gently offers, “Don’t gotta get outta the car if ya don’t wanna, okay?” Tommy gives him a look.

“She’s somethin' else,” Tommy mutters as Joel gets back in the truck.

-

You *knew* it! You try not to let it show on your face. He’s so controlling.

Well, Daddy’s not gonna get the satisfaction of you choosing to stay in the truck. Any type of outing is so rare that you have to take advantage to the fullest. You daydream about seeing a stray dog, sniffing around, following the scent of meat.

One time, Joel took you to an abandoned barn to gather some tools, and you met a barn cat. Anything was possible.

“Can we go by the old barn on the way home?” You ask from the back.

“We’ll see, baby,” Joel answers and you roll your eyes, out of his view since you’re lying down. You stew in frustration and by the time y’all park at the QZ perimeter trading tent, you’re trying to force away tears.

Joel gets out and looks in the backseat. “Stayin’ put?” He asks, then registers the look on your face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He gets out and opens your door. “C’mere, talk to me.” he helps you sit up. You take a deep breath and look away, heat rising to your eyes.

“I do wanna get out,” you tell him.

He takes your jaw gently in his hand and makes you look at him. His brows knit in concern when your eyes meet. “Okay, you’ll get out,” he quietly agrees. “Hey, you’re okay, baby. You're okay.” He cradles the back of your head.

You try to fix your dress and Joel’s face changes from concern to pity. He untucks his flannel and starts unbuttoning it, strong forearms flexing. Your face softens and your eyes brighten, making Joel’s sparkle.

He helps you down from the truck, and his broad body blocks the view as he holds up his shirt for you. You admire the way his biceps and chest stretch his plain white under-tee before you turn around and slip your arms into the flannel. You turn around and while Joel is still facing you, he adjusts himself, then untucks his t-shirt. He takes your hand and says, “Uncle Tommy’s gonna unload. You stick with me.”

________________________________________________

Make sure you check out bonezone44's amazing artwork to see how Joel looks at the end.

thanks for reading!

Your comments delight me and help my confidence which helps me write. Love y'all.

[pucksandpower]

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

[sukirichi]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling — although bloodied — face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor. 

𐙚 — Doctor! Zayne x Gangster! Reader

𐙚 — NSFW, MINORS DNI. public sex, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), descriptive smut, explicit sex, curse words, deep throating, unprotected sex, sleepy morning sex, fluff, smut, fucking while the reader is recovering from an injury, unrealistic ending LMAO, minimal angst, violence, attempted murder. 13k WC

𐙚 — this is my first lads work please do not judge me AGHSJKA. divider from @/cafekitsune

You’d been in this state before.

It wasn’t anything new, really, and yet the pain never got any more bearable. Each shot always felt like the first one, and you clenched your teeth hard to keep yourself from passing out in the hallway. It was dark, thanks to the old lights that flickered on and off, and you were sure that if someone saw you in this state, they would probably run away. You can’t blame them, because you were pretty banged up.

Heaving a deep breath from your lungs, you leant against the wall, careful not to leave any bloodstains as ragged breaths escaped your mouth. You shuddered from the pain. Your hand was already clutching your wounded shoulder, putting pressure to stabilize the blood oozing out from the wound while your other arm was wrapped around your waist where two bullets had perfectly been shot at you. Your vision had started to become blurry by now, and your knees were growing weaker with each passing second, but his door was just there. Just a few more steps until you found the comfort you so desperately sought out.

With a groan, you pushed yourself away from the wall and wobbled to his front door, letting out a whimper when you realized he kept the door locked. Of course. Plucking out a few hairpins from the back of your head, you twisted it into his doorknob before sighing in relief as the lock opened with a click. You fell almost face first to the floor, your weight becoming harder and harder for you to carry until your legs finally gave in, and you fell on the ground with a loud ‘thud.’ You whimpered in pain, chest heaving up and down in discomfort as your shaking fingers pried the material of your tank top away from the wound. Frowning when you saw the white cotton had been stained completely red.

“Who’s there?” A soft voice asked just as the lights flickered open, making you wince in your spot. “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

He scurried to your almost passed out form, his dark hair coming into view as his huge eyes stared back at you. You noticed his hands were hanging awkwardly in the air as if unsure to touch you, and you felt a little bad when you saw he was still in his doctor’s coat. He had probably just gotten home after a hellish shift at the hospital, and you ruined the little amount of sleep he allowed himself to have.

You forced a smile on your face as your hands reached up to brush the hair away from his eyes, the action leaving a blood stain on its way. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

“You’re seriously crazy,” was all he said before his strong arms wrapped around you securely, making you groan as he scooped you up, your head lolling into his chest before you curled yourself into a ball. You felt the warmth of his leather couch hitting your bare legs, thanks to your ripped denim shorts before he disappeared from your side. A sound of several medical equipment clanked through the tense silence, and soon enough Zayne appeared in your line of sight once more. His hand gently helped you to prop your head on the pillow, a frown painting his soft features as the sound of medical gloves stretching hit your ears.

He didn’t look too happy.

“Two months. You’ve been gone for two months without even a phone call or a simple text to tell me how you’re doing, and now you come back all beaten up?” He shook his head, passing you a bottle of alcohol and a towel to bite on before lifting your shirt up. “You’re seriously going to be the death of me.”

Well, you knew you weren’t exactly deserving of a warm welcome, but that didn’t stop you from feeling bad anyway.

Zayne sighed, showing you what seemed to be sterilized medical tweezers and a kidney shaped looking metal bin placed on the coffee table. “This is gonna hurt. I don’t have anesthetics.”

“Just get it over with.”

He nodded, although a look of hesitation crossed him before he peeled your shirt away from your skin. A pained and hesitant grimace was sent your way as he assessed the damage, and you assured him you’d be fine. This wasn’t the first time he’d taken care of your injuries, but that didn’t make it less painful for the both of you. For you, it was just physical torture all throughout, and your eyes seared with hot tears that threatened to fall as you remembered your most recent stab wound. Zayne had been the one to take care of it as well, and you felt a little guilty that the only times – well, most of the times, anyway – that you spent at his apartment consisted of him tending to your wounds. And fucking. Lots of fucking.

Now that you thought about it, it’s been too long since you saw Zayne, and the sight of him biting his lip in concentration as he pulled the bullets out was enough to turn you on.

Dark bags were under his eyes, eyes lidded heavily and his little button nose scrunched up a little at the stench of blood. In your own dazed haze of admiring his beauty and all his little quirks you’ve learned through two years of knowing him, you momentarily forgot the heated pain you were in through until he counted down from one to three. He pulled the bullet out, making you bite down on the towel placed in between your teeth.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just one more and we’re good.” He cooed, his soothing voice contrasting well with the pained whimpers that left your throat. While he was busy placing the bullet onto the metal bin, you spat out the towel and drank the beer in one go, feeling the burn of it sting your throat. Zayne was looking at you worriedly, but you nodded at him encouragingly to keep going. 

“I’ll be fine.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand.

You were propped up on your elbows as he sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time of that night. His hands were cool against your heated skin, eyes locked on yours as his fingers moved to slide the straps of your tank top down ever so slowly that made you hitch your breath. He’d just finished with taking out the bullets from your waist, and now he was staring intently at the blood that flowed from your collarbones to the swell of your breasts. You swallowed.

His fingers – those same fingers that had the skill of fucking you into another realm and saving lives of people – worked skillfully into plucking the bullet out. Zayne’s other hand was placed on your good arm gently for leverage while his minty breath fanned against your face. You shuddered as you realized you were caged inside his arms. His face was so close to yours that you were sure you could count his eyelashes.

You trailed your gaze lower from his eyes to his thin lips, the ones that you learned kissed softly and passionately in contrast to how rough he was in bed, and only then did you realize how much you’d missed him.

“I love it when you’re on top of me.” You purred, a strangled and yet erotic moan leaving your lips as he successfully took the bullet out. 

Zayne coughed.

“You are shameless,” He murmured with a shake of his head, feeling incredulous as he patched bandages on your wound. You stared at him with a smirk on your face. “You barge in at what, two in the morning, all beaten up and you flirt with me? Didn’t anyone tell you not to distract a professional from his duties?” 

“Can you blame me when you look so fucking hot when you’re concentrated?” You whispered huskily, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear before you pulled away. He was staring at you wide eyed, “Consider it as payment since you’ve been inside me so many times.” 

Zayne was now blushing madly as he leaned away to get more bandages from his first aid kit. “Oh my god – are you serious? That isn’t the same... You know what, just keep your mouth shut. Let me do what I need to do. You’re being way too weird right now.” 

You grinned, making sure he saw how much of a teasing shit you were. “I know, and you love me anyway.”

Your deal had gone perfectly well that Jenna had rewarded you handsomely. The weight you’ve been carrying for days had now been lifted off, and you were finally free from the anxiety of fucking it up. It wasn’t your first deal per se, but it was perhaps the most critical assignment she’d ever sent you on. You remembered not being able to sleep for days as you calculated the ins and outs of it. Although Jenna had assured you all you needed to do was trade the goods with them at the port and it was all over, the worry hadn’t eased one bit. Sylus was infamous for leading a drug cartel after he killed his own father to precede him, so it was only natural you felt scared you would meet the man himself. Alone.

But… he was actually alright. He went straight to business and didn’t dilly dally further, and once he was sure your goods were fresh and genuine, he gave the promised money and left without a word. You came back to Jenna with a satisfied smirk, and now you were on your way to this bar that seemed a little too vanilla for your liking. The blinking light of the bar sign was red and neon, and you scoffed as it read Pleasure Cave. 

Seriously?

This looked more like a brothel than a bar, and you eyed the girls in skimpy outfits and blood red lipsticks waiting in line with distaste present on your face. No wonder Nero recommended this place. He was never after the drinks, he was after the girls. Well, you couldn’t blame him. Living in shabby apartments and doing underground work wasn’t entirely fancy, plus being a full time gang member didn’t allow him to spend as much time with girls as he would like. Well, whatever, you were here for the drinks. 

Now that the deal was done and over with, you were going to get absolutely wasted. 

Passing by the hundred people waiting in line, you smiled cheekily as the six foot tall and perhaps three hundred pounds of steroid bouncer glowered at you. “Get in line, sweet cheeks.”

“I don’t think I need to.” Pulling down your shirt a little to reveal the tattoo on your collar bones, the bouncer glared at it before he stood back up with recognition. He said something through the crackled intercom of his walkie talkie. There was a pause, then the doors opened with a heavy creak, the thumping bass of the loud music inside faintly heard. Now that worked well. You grinned wider, stepping on your tippy toes to press a sloppy kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you, angel.”

“Anytime, Ma’am.”

You stepped inside, feeling the cold breeze of the air conditioner nipping at your skin, and you were in a state of elation. Releasing a sigh, you maneuvered through the crowd and plopped on the bar stool, smiling confidently at the bartender before ordering something strong. He merely glanced at your smoky eyes that were lined with kohl, and you winked at him before chewing your gum obnoxiously. Sliding down several shot glasses your way, you sent him an impressed look – he knew you’d be here for quite a long time.

And oh, a long time it was. Seven shots later, the bartender sighed when you raised a finger to signal one more shot, and that’s when he came. It was probably because you were intoxicated and desperate to release some stress, but whatever the reason, you didn’t regret any of the decisions you made that night. 

The first thing you noticed about him was his smell. The faint aroma of rubbing alcohol mixed with a masculine scent was enough to make you turn your head, and you downed your shot in one go as you watched the stranger order something fancy. Huh. The raven haired man was dressed to the nines; a baby blue shirt tucked underneath a pair of tight fitting black pants that you were sure groped his ass. You raised a brow at the mere sight of his slender waist that had you ordering two more shots. You noticed his hands first – long and beautiful – and the image of him choking you as he fucked you from behind made you scoot closer to him. 

“Hey.”

Surprised, he jumped from his seat and spilled some of his drink to his pants accidentally, his crotch now wet and sticking to his skin. You raised your brows as you noticed the large bulge. He wasn’t even aroused yet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, although you weren’t sorry at all. Pulling out the handkerchief from your pocket, you made sure you looked at him under your lashes while you patted down his groin. The man’s eyes widened at the action, but he didn’t pull you away. He swallowed rather audibly, his hands coming up to circle at your wrist. You noticed the tips of his ears had gone red, and you felt a smirk making its way into your face when you saw his arousal constricting uncomfortably against the fabric.

“That’s enough, thank you,” he whispered, his minty breath fanning your flushed cheeks. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled away from his grasp and clasped his hand to pull him towards you. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you an idea of what I’m capable of.”

In an excruciatingly slow manner, you wrapped your lips around his finger, sucking the digit into your wet cavern. He let out a quiet gasp at the sensation of your tongue licking the underside, your eyes closed in bliss as you felt the bitterness of sanitizers and the saltiness of his skin. It took almost all your willpower not to grind on his lap right there and then, because even though you were a rather kinky woman, you wouldn’t go that far. 

“Stop.” He commanded, and you opened your eyes languidly before pulling him out with a lewd ‘pop’. “Do you think I’m the type of man who sleeps with strangers?”

You laughed. “I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me so well, but hmm… you’re a little boring, don’t you think?” Feigning disinterest, you turned away from him, ordering another shot. “Must be a mistake. I forgot men like you were too up in their heads to know how to make a woman feel good.”

He was practically fuming as you downed another shot, a sign that your plan was working. Next thing you knew, strong arms had wrapped around your waist and you let out a small yelp as he heaved you up effortlessly, until you were on his lap, and boy did he look angry. A choked moan left your mouth as he roughly grabbed your hair to expose your neck, and you felt even wetter at the thought that he could fuck you right here in the bar, out in the open for everyone to see. Public sex was something you’ve never tried, but now it seemed like a good idea. 

“You think you’re funny?” He raised a brow, his other hand trailing under your shirt to squeeze your breast through the material of your bra. You felt him pinch your nipple and you bucked forwards, grinding against his hardness. It must have felt painfully good, because he dragged you towards him. His tongue licked a trail from your neck to your ear before he threatened lowly. “Don’t fuck with me, angel. I’ve had a rough week, and I can ruin you.”

“You sure about that?” You replied huskily, palming him from underneath you and feeling his erection grow harder. “Because I’m no fragile thing, and I doubt you can give it to me how I like it.”

He hummed against your neck, and you felt your core getting wetter when he mumbled angrily. “And if I prove you wrong?”

“Then you can do whatever you want to me,” You supplied, glaring at him through the lashes. “Now, are you gonna make me wait, or are we gonna fuck?”

That seemed to trigger him, because soon he’s shoving you off his lap and pulling you outside to the back door. You faintly heard the bartender shouting at you to pay, but you were too clouded by your arousal that you let this nameless man drag you out to the dark alleyway where he wasted no time in slamming his lips to yours. You moaned when your head hit the hard bricks of the dirty alley, the searing touch of his fingers under your shirt as he pulled the cups of your bra down and tugged at your nipples enough to send sparks of fire running along down your centre. You were wet, so fucking wet, and you yearned to feel his touch right where you wanted him most.

Your hands had a mind of his own, and he growled into your lips when you blindly unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down. When you palmed his erection and slipped your hands inside his boxers, you ran your finger against his slit and felt your fingers become coated in his pre cum. The stranger grunted, his tongue slipping inside your mouth before the wet muscle collided with yours in a heated manner.

“Fuck.” You moaned into his mouth, pumping your hand up and down his shaft slowly. He pulled away with his chest heaving up and down to look at where your fingers tried to wrap around his thick girth.

Shit, you knew he was big, but you didn’t expect him to be this big. The thought of his cock stretching you out and filling you so deeply had you removing your hands away from his cock to take off your stupid fucking leather pants that clung so tightly to your legs. He laughed at your obvious struggle, and you glared at him. Soon enough, his laughter died down when you shimmied out of your pants, completely speechless as he eyed your bare pussy.

“You haven’t been wearing underwear all this time?”

“I had a feeling I’d meet you tonight,” You joke, but he doesn’t find it funny because he growled, his hand cupping your sopping cunt that left you breathless.

His roughness took you by surprise that you found yourself clinging to his bicep for dear life. It wasn’t long before he slipped two fingers inside, scissoring his way through to your walls to stretch you out, and your head fell back against the wall as you felt him pump into you in an addicting manner that had you seeing stars at the back of your vision.

“You’re so wet already,” He commented, his head diving forwards to suck harshly onto your neck that has you moaning lewdly. You realized this stranger had his fingers shoved deep into your pussy in a dark alley, and while no one could see you at this place, you were sure someone would see the both of you if they passed by. And shit, how fucking hot that was. “That look on your face,” he noticed, “Are you turned on by the thought of getting caught?”

“Aren’t you?” You shot back, and you pushed his hand away when you felt that familiar coil in your belly.

He made a sound of protest that you ignored, and you pulled him down by the tie to attack his thin yet pillowy lips that were red and bruised by now. Your hand snaked between the both of you as you pulled his cock out and lined him against your centre, his breath coming out in stutters when you wrapped one of your legs around his waist as his tip entered you.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” He moaned against your lips before slamming his hips forward until he’s penetrated you into the hilt, and you let out a small whimper of pain. He was big, bigger than you’d imagined. Ypon seeing the look of discomfort in your face, his hands came up to caress your face worriedly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You bit your lip, finding it oddly sweet he could be so gentle even when he was tearing you apart. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute, you’re really big.”

“Okay,” He nods, resting his forehead against yours, his hand still carefully holding you by the waist to help keep you up.

You realized you weren’t able to see his face well under the neon lights of the bar, but seeing him now just a breath away, you realized he’s really good looking. His eyes were warm and kind looking despite the evident lust pooling through those greenish-brown orbs, and his gaze was piercing as he seemed to assess your features back. His once gelled hair had now fallen into stray chunks, adding more to his striking features.

You were momentarily lost in his eyes and gentle touches that you forgot he still had his cock deep inside you.

With that thought, you moved your hips forward, your walls suffocating his length. He suddenly shut his eyes in pleasure, murmuring “Oh, fuck” under his breath. You didn’t need to say anything else, the clenching of your walls against him was enough for him to know he could now fuck you senseless. His eyes snapped open, any signs of the previous warmth he held had completely vanished into thin air as his hands hooked behind your knees, silently telling you to jump, and you wrapped both your legs around him.

“I’m not going to go soft and slow with you.”

“Wasn’t asking you to,” You teased, feeling smug at seeing such a composed looking man slowly losing himself in you. He growled at your remarks, and your teasing ceased when he pushed you firmly against the wall, his hands gripping your waist tightly that you were sure you’d get bruises the day after as he rammed into you at a relentless pace.

You were a mess in his arms, your breasts bouncing and slapping your chest up and down as his cock reached places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He stared at it as if hypnotized before he leaned down, capturing one nipple and lapping at it like a starved man.

Your hair was now sticking onto your skin uncomfortably, uncontrollable moans flowing from your mouth that had fallen open at how each of his strokes seemed to hit everything perfectly. He was stretching you out, filling you so well that each snap of his hips had you tugging at his hair, hard, and he grunted at the pain of you pulling onto his strands. As if encouraged by the action, he pulled out all the way until only his tip was left inside. You stared at him in bewilderment, and he smirked at you arrogantly.

It was just about the sexiest fucking thing you’ve ever seen, and it didn’t help the sweat from his skin made his shirt clung onto him tightly, giving you a teasing view of strong pecs underneath.

You only had a few seconds of rest before he slammed his hips harder than the first, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming. He was good, so good, and your wetness coated him so well as if urging him to fuck you harder. The sound of your moans, his low grunts and the wet sounds of your arousal dripping onto his length was so dirty and erotic that when he hit your sensitive spot, you cursed loudly as your head fell onto his shoulder. 

Your back grazed the brick wall rather uncomfortably, but all you could focus on was the sweet torture his cock was abusing your core with. He snapped his hips in a deliciously tantalizing manner, your eyes shut tight as he grunted lowly when you clenched around him, a sign you were close. Judging by the way his thrusts had become erratic, it seemed like he was too.

“Baby, I’m close.” He announced, beads of sweat falling onto his cheeks. He looked fucked out with the way he was gritting his teeth as he continued to slam into you, his hips coming forward hurriedly as if desperate to reach his high. You knew you didn’t look better. Tears threatened to escape your eyes at the way his tip was brushing against your sweet spot abusingly, over and over again. You were so lost in the pleasure you felt that he tapped his fingers against your cheek whimpering at the sensations flooding through.

“I’m close,” he panted, “Where can I cum?”

“Inside,” You breathed out, a moan falling from your open lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You nod tiredly, looking down to see how your pussy engulfed him completely. His length disappeared back into you after every withdrawal, as if your womanhood didn’t ever want him to pull away. And from the way he throbbed inside you, it seemed like he didn’t want to pull away either.

“Oh fuck,” He rasped out, his thrusts stuttering as you felt him release inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you up so good.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You mumbled in the crook of his neck as he spilled himself inside you, feeling your combined essence dripping out of your hole. He groaned, riding the both of your highs before you felt him soften inside you. You were both breathing heavily, and you were taken by surprise when he kissed you again, softer this time. His hands crawled up to the nape of your neck as he nibbled on your lower lip, and you groaned into the kiss, thinking if there’d ever been a time you were taken in a such a debauched manner yet kissed so sweetly.

Your memories came up with nothing.

The contrast of him passionately kissing you like a lover had you feeling lightheaded from how he had roughly fucked you, but you basked in the warmth of him anyway. He smelled faintly of sweat, sex, and his cologne, a scent you think you could get used to forever. His hair was soft as you threaded your fingers through it, and he sighed in content at the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp, his large hand now cupping the side of your face.

When he pulled away from you, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes tired and drooping. The silence of the night engulfed you both as he stayed inside you, and then you both started laughing out of nowhere. He helped you get down safely, his hand still gently placed on the small of your back before he slid out of you completely.

You bit your lip to restrain yourself from fucking him again – the sight of his soft member leaving the warmth of your slick folds shouldn’t have been so erotic. You didn’t want to pull away from him – at least not yet – so you reached forward, tucking his cock back into his boers as you ignored his heated stare at the back of your head. Soon, you pulled your pants back up, wincing at how wet you were down there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not missing the way he stared at how your tight pants outlined your pussy. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uhm, I’m sorry about… that,” he gestured to your camel toe, and you scoffed in amusement. “I can take you home, if you’d like.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” You shook your head, smiling innocently at how his shoulders seemed to drop in disappointment. “Although I must say, it’s gonna be hard to walk home tonight…  Doctor Zayne.”

The sight of his eyes widening and his mouth falling open almost seemed comical to you. “Wh-what? How’d you know my name?”

You grinned, showing him his wallet and work ID card. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish before he puffed his cheeks out instead. He patted his pockets in a frenzy, and at the realization that it was indeed empty, you threw his belongings back to him sloppily, his arms flailing out before it fell to the ground. He mumbled a ‘thanks’ at your way. You nodded at him and walked away, letting the darkness of the night swallow you before he called you out. You paused in your steps.

“Wait!” He shouted, although you failed to hear the sound of footsteps. “Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“I don’t think I need to,” You smirked over your shoulder, mockingly saluting him on your way. “I have a feeling we’ll meet each other again.”

Zayne was left in the dark alley that night. As much as he wanted to run after you and take you home, he had a strong feeling you didn’t want to be followed. Once you’d been completely swallowed by the darkness, he jumped in his spot when the back door flung open harshly, and he was met with the sight of a pissed off looking man. It was the bartender.

“Well?” He huffed, “Aren’t you gonna pay?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your girlfriend left without paying,” He hissed, shoving the receipt into the smaller man’s face who looked lost. His eyes skimmed over the amount you’ve drank, grimacing when he saw the hefty price. “Pay up. Now.” Zayne cursed inwardly, handing over a wad of cash to the bartender’s outstretched palm before going home with a frown. 

He should have known you were trouble. One look at your predatory gaze, and the way you sized him up like he was your next meal, he fell right into your trap. He kicked a bunch of pebbles in frustration, hating the way he felt so attracted to you the moment he landed his eyes on you. It didn’t help that you were the exact embodiment of sexiness either. You were confident, and carried an aura that made him feel like you could’ve conquered the world should you wish. 

In conclusion, you were the exact image of his desires that came to life, and now he faced the consequences of falling into the trap of a seductive temptress. 

He just hoped never to see you again. 

Weeks passed by since the last time he saw you, and Zayne refused to admit that he went back to the bar several days in a week in hopes of seeing you again.

But after the fifth night that the bartender sent him pitiful glances, he never came back once informed you hadn’t returned ever since. He didn’t even know why he should care, he didn’t even know your name. And yet… he found himself wanting to know more about you. Call it simple curiosity or just him being plainly attracted to your mysteriousness, he didn’t care. One thing he could admit though, was that he thought you were quite the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The way you held yourself so surely and knew exactly what you liked was enough to bring out the primal side of his being.

But, those thoughts aside, you just screamed trouble.

And Zayne worked hard to get where he was now. He still remembered those hellish nights he was unable to sleep when his midterms were coming up, because medical school was just both a curse and a blessing at the same time. It was even harder since his parents had passed away long ago that he had to support himself at such a young age. His childhood – or lack thereof – had been a blur of working two part time jobs to afford his school fees and stacking his mini fridge of bottled coffees just to survive that night. Because of his hectic routine and his dedication to his dreams, Zayne never got to date anyone.

It wasn’t because he didn’t look good either, no, it was quite the opposite.

He’d received multiple confessions in medical school from wonderful girls who all came from good families, but one look at their preppy attitudes and cookie cutter perfect image, he knew he would never fit in. Sure, they were nice, sweet, and smart, but most of his classmates in the resident school had only gotten in because they were born privileged. They would never understand his struggles. And so, with a polite smile, he turned them all down and focused on his own future instead.

He just wanted to pave a better life himself first. Love could come afterwards.

Zayne just never thought it would come in the form of a leather jacket clad woman with blood red lipstick who hauled a man twice her size on her shoulders, cursing at him for being ‘a stupid fucking dimwit’ into the emergency room, exactly on the time of his shift. Zayne shot upwards from his seat in a flash, rounding the counter and making his way towards you and your friend, who he realized was sporting a gunshot to his thigh.

At the sight of your most recent – and undeniably the best fuck you’ve had – wearing a black button-up hidden under a white coat, paired with squeaky white shoes, a stethoscope hanging around his neck and just looking so damn fuckable, had you laughing with glee. 

Never mind Luke who was groaning in pain. It was his fault for getting shot anyway. You told the younger male multiple times not to play around with guns and not to challenge your shooting skills because you’d always be better than him. But he refused to back down due to the fact he was so butthurt over it and dragged you into the shooting fields, only for the gun to slip into his sweaty hands, successfully shooting his own leg in the process.

Yeah, you didn’t care at all.

“Doctor Zayne!” You exclaimed gleefully, pushing Luke’s heavy weight off of you until he fell to the hospital bed. You ignored his screams in pain. “What a coincidence!” You glanced at your friend, “Luke, look how lucky you are. Zayne’s in tonight. I heard he’s the best doctor.”

Luke eyed you both, watching carefully as Zayne only nodded at you in return before he proceeded to pull out several doctor shit you had no idea with, but they did seem familiar. You only recognized them briefly from those times you had to dress your wounds yourself, and it wasn’t exactly a memory filled with sunshine and rainbows. 

“Okay, I’m going to inject you with some anesthesia,” Zayne’s voice cut through the air, and you watched in awe as he proceeded to do everything flawlessly. 

Soon enough, Luke, who was always a wuss when it came to pain, had already passed out by the time the raven-haired doctor had plucked out the bullets and proceeded with the stitching. Not wanting to interrupt, you jumped up on the nurse’s counter, swinging your legs back and forth with your palms placed flatly behind you before assessing the place.

It was a rather big and well known hospital, so you were confused that Zayne seemed to be the only one around. The only sound that filled the air was Luke’s hiccupping followed by snores, and you scoffed at him, eyes trained on Zayne’s skillful fingers working on the sutures flawlessly. You noticed his brows were furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and you tipped your head to the side in admiration.

You didn’t understand what was so endearing about a professional man concentrated on his work, but you found yourself enamored by the mere sight of him. 

Somehow, he managed to look absolutely perfect under the bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room, and you thought it was unfair. He wasn’t even dressed to impress. His white coat was wrinkled, and only now does it make sense when he told you he’d had a rough week the first time you met him. Dark bags were under his eyes, and you squinted at the sight of several headache pills and cups of coffee neatly placed behind the counter where he once sat, waiting for patients who needed his help.

Guilt immediately washed over you. 

Here, Zayne probably spent day and night saving countless lives. Maybe people like him would have been able to get more rest had people like you not existed. 

Your train of thought was cut off when you suddenly felt a warm hand caressing your face, and you froze under Zayne’s touch. Looking up, you swallowed when you realized his face was close to yours – way too close – that you could see the worry present in his gaze.

“What happened?” He asked softly, concern coating his dulcet voice that you couldn’t help but feel small inside his arms. You blinked. Wait, what? Felt small? You almost wanted to laugh, because you both led different lives. In your world of kill or be killed, you were definitely on the ‘kill’ side. People like you weren’t weak, so you sat up straighter, tearing yourself away from his soothing touch as you flashed him a lazy grin.

“Don’t mind him, he was just being stupid,” you gestured to a passed out Luke.

Zayne shook his head, pulling off his medical gloves before throwing it into the waste bin. “He could have been in a critical situation if you hadn’t brought him here earlier. Your friend got shot in the leg, and it was dangerously close to his bones. A single shot to the leg, especially the thighs, could have been deadly. The bullet could have exploded into tiny pieces until it flowed into his bloodstream, and those little shrapnels could have killed him,” he sighed tiredly, placing his arms beside your body. Even with you sitting on top of a counter, Zayne still managed to be taller than you. “Your friend could have died tonight. He needs to be confined for further treatment.”

Your eyes almost popped out its socket, “What? No! We need to be back by tonight!”

“I can’t allow that,” he shook his head, “He needs proper recovery.”

“But–” you started, pausing in your words when he gave you a look that told you you didn’t have any way out of this. But you had to get Luke back to the base tonight before Jenna woke up. You didn’t want your boss finding out his best asset and the newest fresh meat he assigned you to train to end up with a medical record accessible by your enemies, unless you wanted to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Then, an idea flashed into your mind, and you looked around for the possibility of anyone walking into you. Looking back at the sexy doctor hovering over you firmly, you flashed your most seductive smile, running your hand down his chest before purring, “–you can always have exceptions, right?”

Zayne glared at you, although he didn’t stop you from looping your fingers to his pants. If anything, he’s a little grateful for the distraction. He realized you were much better at waking him up than any of those energy drinks and coffee. No, you set his nerves on fire, and he started to panic when you jumped off the counter and went down on your knees.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” He whisper-hissed, stopping you from doing whatever you were about to do. “My co-workers are just on their break, they’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” You chuckled arrogantly, looking up at him innocently. The image of you looking absolutely cute while at eye level with his now growing arousal was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “With how good I am, you’d come undone in two minutes.” And I’d get Luke out in no time, you thought to yourself.

Zayne scoffed when he realized you had a knack for bruising his ego, and you laughed harder when he shoved his pants down until his erection sprang free, his cock bending towards his stomach. You smirked at the fact he was already hard, his head now red and dripping with precum. You felt proud it didn’t take much to turn him on. 

Oh, you were gonna have fun indeed.

“Two minutes,” he growled, his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as his hips thrust forward, his cock slapping against your cheek. The essence of his arousal making your face feel sticky. “You’ve got two minutes to make me cum.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Not wasting a second longer, you placed your hands on his strong thighs before taking him into your mouth. Zayne moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock. You licked the underside of his cock, feeling every protruding ridge and vein before you started sucking him. Bobbing your head up and down, Zayne closed his eyes in pleasure, thrusting forward when you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Ah, fuck,” He grunted, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and your gag reflex clenched around his head. It was a beautiful sight to behold, seeing him lose himself in the feeling of your mouth around him. You sucked him off earnestly until you pulled him out with only his tip left inside, his muscles quivering under your touch. 

Feeling that he was close, you took him all the way back in until you’re gagging on his length again. Tears started to fall on your cheeks at how he had completely taken over. Soon enough, you felt him grow bigger inside you until you knew he was about to cum. He pulled away, or more like tried to, because you placed your palm flat on his ass to keep him right where he was. You started choking and gagging on his cock when he harshly thrust inside your mouth, his warm seed spurting on your tongue.

Zayne fought back another groan. He struggled to breathe from the orgasm you gave him, and you opened your mouth, showing him that his cum was all over your tongue before you made a show of swallowing it. Your lipstick had also smeared, the red smudged all over your face. Deciding to tease him further, you wrapped your lips around him one more time, leaving lipstick stains all over his semi hard cock.

“W-wait,” he tried to push your head back, “Sensitive – I can’t–”

Determined to clean him off, you licked all around his member, still tasting the saltiness of his cum coating your tongue before pulling him out with a wet ‘pop.’

You stood up and brushed the dust of your knees, thankful that your skinny ripped jeans hadn’t been stained the slightest. Zayne pulled his pants back up, glaring at you when he saw you trying not to smile at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” you said, “Did it feel good?”

“I came in a minute and a half, what’d you think?” He snapped, and you laughed at how moody he seemed. Zayne rounded the counter before typing something away at his computer, not sparing you a glance as he asked for your friend’s personal information. He looked up at you with a raised brow. “I said, what’s your friend’s name?”

You crossed your arms against your chest. “You know, I blew you off. Let me off the hook just this once,”

“What?” He asked, bewildered, “What part of your friend needs proper recovery don’t you understand? He needs to be under supervision.”

“We have a resident doctor,” you informed, “He just wasn’t around today, but I assure you he can take care of him. Come on, Zayne, it’s only right that you repay me for making you feel good, no?”

“You made me pay for your drinks at the bar. I think I deserved that blowjob.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, trying to do the puppy eye method and wishing it would work on him. It didn’t, and you sighed in defeat. “I can repay you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he hissed, and you groaned, exasperated.

There would be a next time because you wanted him as much he wanted you!

Desperate to make him change his mind, you tugged your crop top down to show that again you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Zayne’s eyes immediately clouded with lust at the sight.

He scoffed, though he doesn’t tear his gaze away from your perky buds. “Did you think you could bribe a professional with your gorgeous body?”

“Of course,” you replied confidently, pushing your shirt back to its place before walking beside Luke, ignoring the way Zayne eyed your tattoo weirdly. You shook him awake, but he only mumbled and slapped your hand away, and you sighed. Zayne was still watching you both curiously from behind the counter. You gave him an ‘ok’ sign before slapping Luke hard on the face, to which he immediately bolted awake.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?!”

“That’s not how you talk to your senior,” you scolded him while helping him get up with his arm looped around your neck. Turning to Zayne, you winked, “I have a car, don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’ll get taken care of.”

He hummed with a frown etched on his face, not liking the thought of you alone in a car with a different man. “Will you tell me your name now?”

Luke was halfway passed out again in your arms, and you grinned cheekily at the hot doctor who was patiently waiting for your answer.

Finally, you introduced yourself, “But try not to say my name too much.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re gonna get hurt if you do.”

Just as fast as you appeared and always gave him something to remember you by, you disappeared.

It was starting to infuriate the doctor by now, at how he knew the curves of your body but otherwise had no idea of who you were. He knew you weren’t a normal citizen like him, and he’s pondered several times if maybe you were a criminal. It made him wince; the thought of falling for a criminal out of all people was enough for him to be thrown off balance.

Every morning, he woke up at the thought of your smile, of how adorable and innocent you seemed when you just laughed to your heart’s content and your eyes formed into little crescent moons. He also remembered the way you smelled, a mix of roses and something entirely soft and feminine. He grew afraid of forgetting your sweet scent that he even thought of not showering before he realized how undeniably disgusting that was. And so with a disgruntled thought, a hard on that made him jack off in the shower at the thought of you, and very confused feelings, Zayne decided to throw himself into work and just forget about you completely.

Things were much better that way anyway.

Desperate to ignore how his mind was heavy at the thought of you, of how he craved to hold you instead of touch you, he took on several shifts that absolutely left him drained by the end of the day. He was basically sleeping in empty operating rooms by now, the stench of rubbing alcohol and metallic steel comforting to him. He was so overworked that even nurses and several doctors had become worried for him.

“Zayne,” Nurse Jude addressed the dark-haired doctor who had a clipboard cradled to his chest, well on his way to looking like a zombie right now. “I think you should go home. You don’t look too well.”

Zayne only smiled gratefully, always finding comfort in the quieter nurse’s presence. Jude was a calm and gentle steady energy, and he secretly envied at how he seemed to have everything balanced. If he remembered correctly, he still managed to have the time to take his girlfriend out on dates despite also basically living in the hospital. Jude was well rounded and had everything he wanted and needed, while Zayne just felt left behind for silently chasing (not really, he hadn’t seen you in months) a woman who he was certain was a criminal. 

Or worse, a murderer.

He really needed to set his mind straight.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he lied, checking the patient’s vitals while Jude places the suggested meals for their recovery. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Is it a girl?”

He paused on the act of scribbling down the rates, his hand reaching up to rub his neck awkwardly. “Is it too obvious?”

“A little, yeah,” Jude laughed before patting him on the back comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it too much, I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.”

Zayne smiled sadly. The likelihood of even meeting you again was highly unlikely, what even more the possibility of you liking him the same way he liked you. But he nodded anyway, not wanting to make Jude feel bad. “I sure hope so.”

“It will,” he insisted, and the spectacled nurse gives him a small smile before making his way out. “Oh, and I talked to Nurse Jang, she said she’ll gladly cover your shift for you. Go home, Zayne, you need to rest.”

Zayne smiled, silently asking himself why he couldn’t have just been a woman and dated someone like Jude instead. He was smart, attractive, and caring. 

He shook his head in disbelief, bidding the patient deep in slumber a farewell before following his co-worker out the hallway to retrieve his stuff and go home. Jude and Nurse Jang both gave him bread in hopes that he would get his much needed rest soon. Since Zayne was feeling like taking a stroll in the night, he pocketed his car keys and walked all the way to his apartment.

The stars were out and bright, and he stared at them astonishingly, wondering if you were looking at the same sky as him; if you saw the stars the way it was now. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling cold and lonely in the empty night as his mind started to get swarmed by thoughts of you. 

He really didn’t understand why he felt attracted to you, all he knew was that there was this… spark, or connection, however corny that sounded.

And he knew he just wasn’t after your body – although he would love to fuck you again, in his bed this time if you’d allow him to take his time with you – no, he was completely drunk at the thought of you.

It was weird, how he didn’t even know your last name, your age, or what you really did for a living. And yet, he didn’t care about all those, all he knew was that he wanted to be with you. He wants to spend time with you and get to know you better, and hell, he wants to pamper you with so much love that he doesn’t understand fucking why. Frustrated, he runs his hand down his face with a groan, unable to get his mind off of you. Maybe it was because you had a good sense of humor, and you always kept him on his toes and there was just something about you that let him know he had to cherish each and every moment.

With a sigh, he stopped looking at the stars because it only reminded him of how you were probably somewhere, unsafe. He didn’t have the slightest of how you were and he was worrying for a complete stranger. 

Too lost in his own thoughts, he failed to hear the sound of a gun clicking. Zayne froze when he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing against his forehead, followed by a gruff voice cutting through the silence of the air.

“Give me your money.”

Zayne gulped, pocketing his wallet immediately at the sight of the man holding him hostage come at eye level with him. He gulped at how his left eye was closed due to a scar that ran until his chin. Obviously, this guy had seen some real things that Zayne doesn’t even want to be involved in, and his heart was picking up a mile a minute. He was about to hand his wallet and cellphone over, making sure he still kept his work ID, when a feminine and a strangely familiar laughter joined in the scene.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Carefully, Zayne turned around, only to see you leaning against the wall lazily with a cigarette dangling by the edge of your lips, somehow looking bored at the scene. If he wasn’t about to piss in his pants right now in fear of getting his brains blown out any moment, he would have admired you openly. He swallowed at the sight of you wearing nothing but a lace black bralette under a washed denim jacket, paired with ripped skinny jeans and untied combat boots. Still so pretty, even when his entire body warned him not to get too close.

Like the first time he saw you, you screamed danger, and Zayne found himself unable to look away.

“Go home, little girl,” the man snapped, “This isn’t a place for youngsters like you.”

You sighed tiredly. “Whatever. Just let the man go, and learn a little lesson from him. If you want money, you gotta work hard like everyone else.”

A tick seemed to go off in him, because soon Zayne was being shoved aside. He shouted your name loudly when the man had his gun pointed at you instead. However, you only grinned at him, cocking your head to the side in pure amusement. Zayne watched as the man lowered his gun, fingers stuttering as realization dawned on him.

“Are you part of the–”

“Exactly, sweetheart,” you smiled sweetly, taking his fingers off from the weapon. “Now, run along before I kill you, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

Tha man nodded before scurrying away, and Zayne pushed himself up to his feet to place himself beside you. Your eyes were still trained on the offender’s retreating form. Zayne was about to pull your attention to him when you suddenly raised the gun with a squint, the sound of a gun firing echoed through the night. Zayne gasped, disbelief written all over his face as the man fell down.

You turned to him with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t kill him, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t kill?!” he asks, enraged. “You still shot someone!”

“I know Jason, he’s gonna run for a little bit and come back to you. Did you really think I’d risk you getting killed when I could have prevented it?” Your words came out with spite that Zayne didn’t respond to, watching as you stashed the gun into the back pocket of your jeans. “Thought so. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Jesus, Zayne,” you said exasperatedly, “Out of all the places you could’ve taken a detour in, you had to choose a bad neighborhood, didn’t you? I’m taking you home, and that’s final.” Zayne started to protest, but one glare from you had him shutting up. Once sure he had given in, you showed him your trademark carefree smile, bowing down mockingly. “Lead the way, sir.”

“I live close by,” he rolled his eyes, and you fell into step with him easily. 

The two of you walked in silence, your hands swinging back and forth obnoxiously as your legs took longer strides to keep up with him. When he realized he considerably walked faster than you did, he slowed down until you were right next to him, and you were taken by surprise when he looped his hand through yours, eyes staring directly ahead. “This is just so you don’t fall behind.”

“How sweet,” you commented cheekily, reaching up to peck him on the cheeks. Zayne, not expecting the innocent gesture even in his wildest dreams, whipped his head so fast to look at you. He looked so ridiculously cute that you couldn’t help but kiss him again, making sure your lips remained to his skin a little longer than the first. “You look so adorable.”

His cheeks burned at the way you looked at him, your eyes completely youthful, innocent, and just looking at him with so much adoration that he thought… he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. He liked you. 

Upon rendering him speechless, you giggled before tugging him forwards to walk home. Zayne turned away from you to hide a childish grin.

The walk back was peaceful, and the mere scent of your rose scented perfume was enough to soothe his nerves as well. Maybe it was because he knew he was safe, and that’s why he felt comfortable, but one look at you humming a tune to yourself, he realized he was calm and at peace because you were safe. 

You obviously led a life that would be hard to explain to him, and while he wanted to get to know you better, he also didn't want to push you into divulging information you wouldn’t want to.

For now, he was just glad to see you and have you by his side again, and he was going to try to elongate this moment for as long as he could.

And so the stoic doctor walked slowly on purpose, and you, being observant and calculative as ever, knew exactly what he was getting at and walked slowly as well. It was a little chilly, and your lack of clothing didn’t help, so you pressed your body flush against his, your head naturally finding its place into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but his strong arm encircled your waist. You didn’t find it in yourself to complain.

You just missed him.

And he missed you too, although no one would ever say that out loud.

“How was work?” You asked softly, “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, turning slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head before his apartment came into view and you both walked upstairs. “I couldn’t get my mind off this amazing person, and I had to work a lot to forget her.”

You chuckled breathily from his hold, and Zayne smiled when he felt the vibrations of your chest rumble to his skin. “Maybe it’s much better to forget her. She’s just bad news, you know.”

“I don’t think I want to forget her,” he admitted, now standing in front of his unit. Zayne loosened his hold on you, his hands finding its place on your shoulders before bending down to look at you. “I think… I want to keep seeing you.”

A smile made its way to your face, but it was more confused than sad. Shrugging his hold off of you, you lifted your denim jacket to show him the intricate dragon tattoo that ran until the top of your breasts. “I’m a criminal, Zayne. I’m part of an underground gang, and, well… as much as I want to see you too, I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

“We won’t know until we’ve tried,” he insisted, and your eyes lit up in amusement at how he seemed intent on getting to know you better. It warmed your heart in a way that you’d never felt before, and your smile only grew bigger, perhaps even a little shy when he continued speaking. “Can I – feel free to say no, but please don’t – take you out on a date?”

Your eyes squinted so hard from how large you were smiling, and really, how could you say no? Fishing your phone out from your pocket, you typed in his name next to a heart emoji before handing it to him. Zayne laughed in disbelief as he texted himself through your number and saved his contact information. 

“I’ll text you the details. When are you free?”

“I’m a busy woman,” you told him, cocking your head to the side teasingly. “But if it’s for you, I’m always free.”

Zayne’s face flushed. “Wow, okay, I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

You rolled your eyes, walking away from him with a wave of your hand. “I’ll see you around, Doc. This is my first date, so it better not be disappointing.”

“It won’t!”

And Zayne really did keep to his word. Only three days after you walked him home, your phone buzzed from its place rather loudly that you accidentally knocked Luke’s gun out of his hold. A shot rang through the air and a scream tore its way from his throat. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he almost shot himself again.

“I swear, Luke, I’m not taking you to the hospital again because of your stupidity.”

He had the audacity to look appalled. “You made me drop my gun!”

“Tough luck,” you teased, grinning as you read Zayne’s text. He was asking if you were available tonight, and you immediately replied back saying you were. “Okay, tell the boss I’ll be out tonight. Don’t ask why. I’m meeting someone.”

“What does that me–hey! You know Jenna will kill me if she finds out you went out again!”

“That was kind of the plan,” you laughed, twisting your car keys into your finger before running away from the younger male who had gone pale in fear. “But don’t die tonight!”

You expected someone like Zayne to take you to a quiet, upscale restaurant for your first date, the kind of place where you could sit across from each other and talk softly about your lives over candlelight. But instead, you found yourself in a small, crowded theater, where the seats were a little too close together and the air was thick with anticipation.

As you settled into your seats, you couldn’t help but smile at the contrast between the setting and the man beside you. Zayne, usually so composed in his button-ups and scrubs, had opted for a simple black hoodie and jeans, his hair down and slightly tousled. The look softened his serious demeanor, and you found it endearing.

“I didn’t expect you to pick a horror movie,” you teased as the previews began to roll.

Zayne’s lips quirked up in a shy smile, but he kept his eyes on the screen. “I thought it’d be...interesting,” he replied, the hesitation in his voice betraying his nerves.

“Interesting, huh? You sure you can handle it?” you nudged him playfully.

“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse things,” he said, though the faint tension in his posture suggested otherwise.

As the movie started, you noticed how intently he was watching the screen, his posture straight, his eyes focused. The suspense began to build, and you could feel Zayne tensing beside you. The protagonist on screen was slowly inching closer to the inevitable scare, and you couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Zayne. When the jump scare finally hit, the theater erupted with screams, and Zayne flinched, his grip on the popcorn box tightening. He let out a quiet exhale, his eyes darting to you as if to gauge your reaction.

“Are you okay?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

He gave a small nod, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’m fine. Just...not my usual choice of entertainment.”

You grinned, finding his honesty charming. “Well, I’m glad you’re here with me anyway.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He shifted slightly in his seat, and his fingers brushed against yours on the armrest. It was a subtle touch, but the warmth of his skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the movie continued, Zayne remained composed, though you noticed how his hand eventually settled over yours, his grip gentle yet reassuring. It wasn’t overt or flashy, but rather a quiet sign of affection that made your heart swell.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he turned to you. His expression was soft, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you expected,” he said, his thumb grazing your hand as he spoke.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. “Zayne, this was perfect. I didn’t need anything fancy. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He looked relieved, and as you both stood up to leave, he helped you to your feet, his hand resting lightly on your back as you exited the theater. The cool night air greeted you, and you felt a sense of calm between you, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words.

“Do you want to grab a coffee or something?” he asked, his voice low, as if he was still feeling out the moment.

“Actually,” you said, stopping him as you turned to face him, “I was thinking we could just...walk for a bit?”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “I’d like that.”

As you walked side by side, the city’s lights twinkling around you, Zayne reached for your hand again, this time with more confidence. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I have to admit,” he said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “I was really nervous about tonight.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You? Nervous?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fixed ahead. “Yeah. I’m not exactly great at this...dating thing.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, your heart warming at his confession.

When you reached a quiet spot away from the bustling streets, Zayne slowed to a stop, turning to face you fully. There was something in his gaze, a mix of shyness and determination, that made your breath catch. “I know I’m not the easiest person to read,” he began, his voice steady despite the slight flush on his cheeks, “but I want you to know that...I’m really glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You smiled, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad too, Zayne. Really.”

He hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, meeting him halfway. The first touch of his lips was soft, almost tentative, but as you responded, he deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The kiss was everything you hadn’t expected – gentle, warm, and unhurried. It wasn’t about passion or fireworks, but a press of lips where you familiarized yourselves with each other’s taste. When you finally pulled away, you found yourself smiling shyly at each other.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he gazed at you.

“Not in so many words,” you replied, your voice teasing but soft.

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression that made your heart skip a beat. “You do. You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Zayne held your gaze for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, still holding your hand as you continued your walk. The night was calm, and with Zayne by your side, everything felt just right. He took you to a diner afterwards where you feasted on burgers and milkshakes. It definitely wasn’t anything out of the norm, but it was perfect nevertheless. He refused to let go of your hand under the table, and although you told him he’d struggle to eat with one hand, he just shook his head with a smile and insisted he never wanted to let you go.

You should have known that night would be just one of many.

And it was never easy.

Of course, being a gangster had never been on par with dating a doctor, and even though most of your things are now placed in his apartment, it still wasn’t easy. You often left without a word, only coming back near the verge of dying, and Zayne would always hold back his tears as he took care of you. 

It wasn’t easy because you kept coming back to him and your old life, two worlds that never blended well together, because he was the preserver of life and you were the bringer of death. It wasn’t easy when it always felt like you had too little time that made Zayne always had to cherish every moment he had with you. It wasn’t easy for you, and definitely not for him, yet Zayne never asked you to stay. 

Instead, he always watched you leave in the middle of the night, silently hoping you’d come back safely.

Today was not one of those days.

Jenna had sent you off somewhere far away to handle one of her deals for her, and it didn’t end up looking pretty when your so called client tried to run away without payment. Needless to say, you got stabbed in the gut, but you came home with bags of money anyway. It was a miracle you were able to drive yourself all the way back without passing out. 

Just like when Luke accidentally shot himself, the resident medic wasn’t around, and you found yourself limping to Zayne’s apartment. It was a little ways past midnight, and he was still awake, back hunched over a few papers of his patients. Upon hearing the sound of rapid knocking he knew was yours, he immediately cleared off his table to take care of you. Just like how he always had. 

And like always, you looked at him dreamily, because he was the only light in your life. Your heart swelled with your feelings for him, because whether he had you bent over the counter as he fucked you from behind or you were just cuddling him – or moments like now where you were barely breathing and your gaze was unfocused – he always looked at you the same way.

He always looked at you like he loved you, and you knew he did.

“I missed you,” you croaked out, coughing up blood afterwards. He shushed you before proceeding to stitch you up. “I’m sorry I’m always gone and you keep having to take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand momentarily cupping your cheeks.

You looked up at him with so much affection that made him wonder if you were hurt at all, and those were one of the things about you. You had your own demons, yet you always seemed bright and carefree, and he sighed. 

Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling – although bloodied – face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor. 

Like always, he was just glad you were safe. 

You soon passed out in his dining table, your clothes stained with blood now seeping through and making a mess of his furniture. But he didn't mind, and instead carried you bridal style to his room where he lets you rest. He peeled off your dirty clothes away from your body before draping you his oversized yellow hoodie, his heart stirring with worry and happiness at seeing you in his bed, in his clothes, and in his arms.

To him, that was enough since he knew there wasn’t much you could give him, so he cuddled next to you, careful not to add pressure to your wounds before falling asleep.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been out for, but by the time you’d woken up, you realized you were in Zayne’s bed, dressed in your favorite hoodie of his. Groaning, you covered your eyes when the sunlight streamed in harshly. Zayne stirred from beside you. You let out a little gasp when you felt his erection pressing against your ass, his husky morning voice groaning in your ear.

“Baby,” he moaned, his hands lifting your – his – hoodie up as his fingers trail your skin up to your breasts. “Can I fuck you?”

“I,” you started, pausing when your throat goes dry. “Yes, please.”

Zayne groaned as he scooted closer to you, his hair starting to tickle your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers pushed your panties to the side, the tip of his erection teasing your folds before he pushed all the way in. “Fuck,” he moaned lowly, “Tell me if it hurts anywhere.”

You only chuckled lightly as your lips gripped him tightly, because only now do you remember the previous incident you were in. True to his words, Zayne was careful not to hurt you, his hands finding home in your hips instead of your waist. You shuddered at the same time he let out little grunts next to your ear. You wished you could turn around to see how his face contorts in that way when he’s about to cum, but he doesn’t let you. His hand started to grip your breasts under the material of his hoodie, making you close your eyes in the feeling of him filling you again.

It had been too long, way too long, and you missed him. 

Your body was sensitive, that even though his thrusts were slow yet deep, the constant action of his cock plunging into your depths had you mewling. Zayne began to whisper your name, and that was enough for you both to reach your peaks. He came inside you with his thrusts getting sloppier by each minute, and you shut your eyes close as his warmth started to drip outside your pussy. 

Zayne pulled out, gently turning you to your side to face him. He was looking at you softly, a shy smile decorating his sleepy features as he muttered out, “Hi.”

“Hello,” you greeted back as softly as he did. “Did you miss me?”

“So much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he soothed, sitting up before helping you to do the same. “Just promise me you’ll spend the night.”

Now that you could promise. “Sure. Jenna let me off the hook anyway.”

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the thought of that, and soon you both made your way to his kitchen where he started whipping up breakfast. You winced at the bloodstains you’d left, making a move to wipe it off, but he reprimanded you to just sit down and do nothing. You apologized when he cleaned it up rigorously. He only winked at you, and you moved to plop yourself on his counter as you watched him cook. Zayne let the eggs boil for a while, and you watched him cross legged with your face cupped in the palms of your hands. He turned to stare at you, his face unreadable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, feeling self conscious as you touched your face. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head, walking towards you and placing his arms beside your body before he kissed you. “You just,” peck “look,” peck “so,” peck “cute.” By the time he moved on to peppering your face with kisses, you were giggling in his hold, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist .Zayne laughed at your poor attempts in trying to move away from him. 

“Stop!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, “You’re gonna spoil me!”

“Of course I’ll spoil you.” He stated, his hands keeping you in place to stop you from moving. You gave in to the strength of his hold and fall limp, the both of you falling silent as you just stared at each other looking lovesick fools.

“Kiss me again.” You mumbled, hands playing with the collar of his shirt. Zayne bent down to kiss you again.

“As you wish.”

You lost yourself in his lips for what seemed like the hundredth time since you met him, and it was his smell that completely intoxicated you. Zayne smelled like safety and comfort, and you were both laughing through the kiss when he suddenly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, noticing the panicked expression of his face.

“I forgot the eggs!”

You laughed as he ran to his boiled eggs, whining once he saw the eggs had already exploded. He tried to redo them again after scolding you for always distracting him, and the rest of the day was spent cuddling next to each other on his couch while lazily surfing through Netflix. The day passed by in a blur until the sun had already gone down by the time Zayne noticed you yawning in his arms.

He kissed your cheek, hands lazily making circles at your hip. “You wanna sleep, baby?” You hummed in response, and he carried you effortlessly back to his bed before snuggling under the covers with you. 

You played with his hand, a small smile gracing your face as you placed it flat against his, and realizing his hands were bigger than yours. Zayne had several moles in his fingers that you loved, and he watched in silence as you admired his fingers. Moments like this were what he lived for, to see you happy and comfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from uttering his next words.

“Will I ever have you?”

You paused, dropping his hand to the bed. Silence consumed the air as your eyes grew distant and Zayne started to wonder if what he said was wrong.

“One day,” you promised quietly, looking back into his eyes with a kindness you’d always kept hidden as your fingers started to comb through his hair. Zayne closed his eyes at the gesture. “You will. Just wait for me when you do.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You didn’t answer back.

Zayne wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see you for the next two months. 

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

“I know, and you love me anyway.”

Zayne playfully glare at you, and you laughed, only to choke afterwards because of the pain that shot down at your body. Groaning, you rested your head back into the pillows, his scolding voice now back. “What happened to you?”

At his question, you closed your eyes contentedly, blindly pulling his hand back to your lips. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” He snarled, “You got shot–”

You opened your eyes, looking at him with so much happiness that you found difficult to contain. “What matters is that I’m all yours now.”

Zayne stilled, pausing in the act of bandaging you up. You expected him to be happy, but you almost sat up in worry when a tear fell from his eye as he stared at you grimly. “Zayne, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he cried, wiping at his tears before finishing your bandages up quickly and crushing you into a hug, still careful not to hurt you. “I just–are you serious?”

“Yeah! I’m free from the gang.” You pulled away to look back at him, wiping his tears away even as he laughed to say the words he’d always been waiting to hear, “I love you too.”

How fitting, you thought, that Zayne was a doctor, because he had stitched up all the broken and missing parts of you together until he made you whole. And it was his stitches and kisses that brought you back to life.

[abslvr111]

police officer wife!abby anderson

cw. wlw (men dni), smut, nipple sucking, bondage (cuffs), riding abby’s strap, no outbreak au, (slight) size kink, this comes from my love of hot female police officers 💀 also haven’t posted in a bit sry sry gotta new kitten so i’ve been busy <33 + maybe a tiny bit cringe ngl 🥱

sum. riding cop abby’s strap while she’s cuffed and you’re wearing a slutty police outfit 😖

wc. 842 (wc goes up when it abby y’all 🤞)

you meet abby at a minor traffic stop, pure muscle under her police uniform as she walks up to your car window, you look at her in awe (expecting her to be some middle-aged dick officer— not eye candy), until you start to get bashful: remembering your pulled over by her.

you forgot to turn on your signal, she’s smirking by the time she heads back to her cruiser to run your information, and she writes you a warning— as well as her number. you can’t help but smile when you read the paper, happy to text her once you got home.

your first date goes perfectly and by the second one she has you laid out on her bed, you can remember your first time with her like it was yesterday— your memories stay vivid when abby’s in them.

you fall into a nice routine with her, waking up to her big arms around your waist, hugging you close from behind, warm lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as you blink sleep from your eyes.

you’ll watch her get ready as you slowly wake up, eyeing her as she puts on her blue uniform, smirking at the cuffs on her belt, you eventually get up to start your morning routine with her.

she teaches you how to shoot a gun, her front pressed up against your back as she holds your smaller hands in her bigger ones, she helps you aim the firearm, and your fingers touch, wedding bands clashing together, abby loves every second of your shared target practice.

abby thinks it’s cute, this is the first time you’ve put on a costume for her, lingerie, sure. but not this, you’re dressed in a slutty cop uniform— if you could even call it that (the only cop aspect being your blue hat), dark blue bra showing off your tits matching lace thong clinging to your hips, and showing off your figure nicely. black fishnets go up your legs, they look good against your thighs she thinks, sharp heels ready to be kicked off are on your feet, and a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs in your right grasp complete your outfit.

she’s used cuffs on you before, but never have you used them on her, she can’t help but smirk from her place on the bed, amused by what you have planned.

“is something funny ma'am?” you say, tone authoritative as you make your way to her.

“not at all officer,” she says teasingly, playing along with your game.

“are you sure? because i think you need to be cuffed.” you’re holding the fuzzy cuffs up to her eye level now, you continue, “and punished.” your stance is almost dominant but abby’s still almost taller than you even sitting on the bed, it’s adorable in her eyes.

she puts her hands out in front of her, complacent as you slip the soft loops around her wrists. when you’re done she lets her hands drop to her lap, making herself comfortable sitting at the edge of the bed.

you’re smiling cheekily as you begin to unzip her pants pulling her pants off, needy as ever you’re already straddling her lap, inches away from grinding on the strap below her boxers.

abby’s hands come up to bring both cups of your bar down, revealing your tits to her greedy eyes, her lips immediately begin sucking at your nipple, earning a whimper from you, she’s squeezing your other breast with her hand. now you’re sitting properly on her lap, grinding yourself across her cock, your fingers weave through the back of her scalp, putting minimal pressure on the back of her head.

you pull the band of her boxers down just enough for her strap to spring free, you rub your pussy over the silicon coating it with your slick, slowly, you bring the tip to your entrance, easing yourself down onto till you hit the base, moaning as you do.

abby draws away from your chest, her lips and tongue on yours as you begin bouncing yourself on her, setting a steady pace for yourself. her fingers pinch at your nipples, it makes you whine moving yourself faster on her lap, you drag your fingers to over your clit rubbing fast circles.

abby parted from your kiss, you looked so pretty above her, she felt herself get wetter by the second while she watched you, she might have to let you do this more often, watching you get yourself off on her after she gets off a long shift was nice.

she felt your thighs start to get wobbly, your orgasm approaching, the little blue hat on your head tilts to the side as your pace increases and gets rougher.

you’re grinding down on her as you cum, leaning on her as you do, you’re flipped to your back before you can catch your breath, a snap rattles in your ears as abby breaks the cheap fluffy cuffs, she’s smirking down at you, and you know you’re in for a long night.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗦

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N has severe low blood pressure, but seems to forget about it when getting up too quickly, causing her to pass out, but her boyfriend, Matt, is there to help her come back.

WARNING: Fainting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @heartzz4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Do you want some popcorn, baby?" Y/N asked in a whisper, turning her head slightly to the right side, her eyes running over Matt's side profile.

Matt gently caressed the girl's legs that rested on top of his own, humming and reaching for the TV remote, pausing the movie.

"Yes, please." He nodded, finally looking back at her, a small smile appearing on his face. "You want help?"

"No, baby. I got this." Y/N muttered, receiving an "okay" from Matt, who grabbed his phone from the bedside table, ready to distract himself while he waited for his girlfriend and the food.

Y/N straightened her position on the bed before throwing her legs off the mattress, standing up abruptly.

She took minimal steps forward before feeling an immense heat rise through her body. Her skin felt like it was burning, and her heart started racing as her feet and hands felt numb. Her vision went completely dark, thousands of white dots flashing in the middle of the pitch black.

Y/N tried to lean on the mattress, but the distance between her hand and the bed made her lose her balance. Her legs weakened, causing her body to hit the floor with a dull thud, her mind blacking out instantly.

Matt lifted his head abruptly at the sound, his brow furrowed as his eyes searched for its source. A shock went through his brain when he saw his girlfriend lying on the floor.

The boy quickly crawled onto the bed until he reached the other side of the mattress, throwing himself on the floor, crouching down and sitting on top of his own bent legs.

"Hey baby, come on, talk to me." His eyes roamed the girl's body frantically, waiting for a reaction, only then realizing that his girlfriend was completely unconscious.

Y/N had severe low blood pressure, which caused her body and mind to weaken with the simplest things, from not eating much throughout the day or not eating anything salty, to standing up abruptly from a sitting or lying position; Matt knew about that, having witnessed several situations in which his girl went unconscious or almost, already knowing how to deal with it.

He quickly turned her body so that she was lying upright on the floor and face up, his hands worked on lifting her legs a few centimeters off the floor, carefully watching her body's reactions.

It didn't take more than seconds and soon his blue eyes caught the fingers of his girlfriend's hands moving slightly - almost imperceptibly -, followed by her eyelids trembling, her eyelashes caressing her cheeks with the movements.

"There you go, baby. Open your eyes for me." Matt asked in a low voice, stroking her ankles gently, waiting for Y/N to wake up so he could let them go.

"Matt?" Her voice was airy, her eyes slowly opening as her pupils seemed to try to adapt to the environment around herself.

"Yes, baby. It's Matt." The brunette finally released her legs, slowly resting her heels on the floor before crawling to the side of Y/N's head. He placed his right hand on her cheek, pushing back the strands of hair that was on her face and caressing the soft skin with the tip of his fingers.

"Hey." Y/N whispered, finally managing to open her eyes fully, focusing on Matt's face, which was bent over hers, watching her intently.

"Hi my love, are you back with me?" His voice was soft, a smile stretching on his face as he saw the red color of her cheeks slowly return.

Y/N nodded, finally feeling her senses fully. She smiled and closed her eyes for a few seconds, enjoying Matt's caresses.

The girl slowly lifted her torso, sitting on the cold floor, crossing her legs and resting her right thigh on Matt's bent knees.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, lowering her head in shame for interrupting their movie afternoon.

"Hey, no. Don't apologize. It's natural of your body, and it's okay." Matt interrupted her self-deprecation, his right hand traveling to Y/N's chin, pressing the area upwards so that she lifted her head again, their eyes connecting. "Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back, her tongue escaping her lips momentarily, wetting them.

Matt quickly extended his torso, standing on his knees on the floor, his hand grabbing the Stanley cup full of water that always sat on the nightstand on Y/N's side of the bed. She always felt thirsty at night but hated having to get up and go to the kitchen.

"Here. Drink, sweetheart." He brought the cup closer to Y/N's face, pressing the pink straw against his girl's bottom lip, watching her carefully as she opened her mouth slightly, taking small sips of the contents. "There you go."

His hand holding the cup moved away from Y/N's face after she appeared satisfied, pushing his hand slightly.

"Are you feeling any pain? You hit the ground pretty hard, baby." Matt's tone was full of concern, his eyes inspecting the exposed skin of her body for any injuries.

"My shoulder is sore, I think I must have fallen on it." Y/N frowned, her hands traveling to her pained shoulder, touching the area lightly, a wince escaping her lips.

"It's okay, baby. Don't press it to avoid making it worse. I'm going to get some ice so we can put it there before it turns purple." He lifted himself off the ground, placing the cup on the bedside table again.

Matt curved his upper body slightly, sealing his lips over the top of Y/N's head for a few seconds, exhaling her sweet smell.

"I love you, I'll be right back." He murmured against his girl's hair before straightening his spine and walking out of the room in quick steps.

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[acapelladitty]

The Ghoul x Knife Kink

Hotter Than A Match Head

Pairing: The Ghoul (Cooper Howard) x Female Reader

Summary: A late night fuck turns into something more when Cooper decides to bring his knife into the fray. (1.1k words)

(tw for: knife play, rough sex, nipple play, dirty talk, threats of violence, mild blood, dom/sub dynamics)

Link to AO3

Fic Masterlist

Fucking Cooper was like being trapped in a hurricane; a constant flurry of movement, of your body being manipulated, shaped, and generally thrown around with minimal care. The ferality which he so closely monitored and kept at bay only ever appeared to slip through as he ravaged your body without mercy - by hand, by teeth and by cock.

He was relentless in what he wanted and reckless in his pursuits.

But not tonight.

Tonight he was much more careful in his considerations as he pinned you to the dirty floorboards of the abandoned house you had agreed to spend the night hiding out in. The floor was cold and gritty against your back but you hardly notice it, so engrossed by both the cock which was spearing your cunt and the wicked ghoul attached to it. A man who had pinned you to the floor many minutes before and was currently rolling the edge of his hunting knife across your chest like he were mapping out an assault.

You had watched that same knife sink into countless bodies, living and dead, and the graze of the serrated edge against your collarbone was electric. It was a blade which had seen more violence than most, but the dexterity with which he wielded it was stunning to see. A skill which had led to more than one heated fantasy that Cooper had finally seen fit to make a reality.

"Don't move." Cooper threatened, his eyes ablaze with unfettered arousal as they loomed free of his sunken face. "Don't wanna accidentally slice off something that I might miss."

At the warning, he rolls the flat of the knife across your right nipple - the nub peaked and already reddened by his teeth as he had 'perked' them up earlier in your little game. Shuddering at the sensation of the cool metal, your hand grips even tighter at his forearm and the leathery skin there has very little give beneath your clawing fingers.

His knife glints in the meagre lighting, a single, shitty lamp providing illumination against the dark room, and you tighten around him; your cunt as wet and willing as ever as the thrill of his knife adds an extra layer of danger that makes you dumb as all fuck and desperate to see it used.

Writhing and groaning as he trails the edge of the blade across your skin, not deep enough to cut but with enough harshness to threaten, a cruel smile splits his ragged lips as his bright eyes refuse to leave your expression.

"It really makes you this willing, eh? Haven't seen a bitch in this kinda heat for a long time, sweetie. Maybe I'll even throw ya a bone."

Swiping the knife free of your chest, he continues to lazily thrust within your cunt - his thick cock making every rut of his hips feel like your walls were being hollowed out and punished - as he taps the knife against your stomach in a slowly descending pattern.

Your knees spreading even further, heels determined to gouge out a section of his lower back as they push into him roughly, a keening moan slips free of you as he teasingly grinds the butt of the knife against your engorged and somewhat neglected clit.

It's a fresh hell; sparking pleasure mixing with overstimulating discomfort as your most sensitive nerves are subjected to the cool leather and cruel pressure of the knife. It's a rough texture, every ridge making you flinch and whine, as the sudden onslaught has you stuttering out a slew of utterly incomprehensible pleas which simultaneously beg him for more while demanding he stop.

"It would be so easy." Cooper muses, pulling the knife away and letting it hang between his fingers as he presses his hand to the ground. "You're far too soft for this kinda life. Cut me and it don't make a difference. Hell, I'm not sure I'll even bleed. But you-" He trails off, his groin never ceasing in its movements as he continues to deliver shallow, punishing thrusts to your cunt.

"You should do it." You pant, meeting his aggression by rolling your hips against his groin to stimulate every pulsing nerve in your sex. "Cut me. Mark me as yours."

"Can't be doing that, darling." His breathing very quickly grows ragged, his cock noticeably jerking within your cunt at the lustful demand. "Cause I might never stop. By the time I was finished, you'd be painted even redder than I am."

"Cooper." A keening whimper as his hand abandoned the knife to wrap around your throat, squeezing and testing the skin there as he enjoyed the sensation of you swallowing around his fingers. "Please. Just one. Just a-an intital. You can choose where."

Punctuating each sentence with a thrust of your hips as you remained pinned beneath him, the ridges which sat along the hollow of his nose appeared to flare for a moment as he considered his options - interest alighting behind his darkened eyes.

"You're a tricky one, sweetheart. I've known seasoned whores that're less convincing than you."

It's almost a purr, his accented syllables glossing over the backhanded compliment like an old blanket, but he complies anyway as he releases your neck and snatches his knife back up, the point coming to rest on your hip.

Stilling your movements for just a moment, the feeling of his cock as it stretches you out with its unrelenting heat growing more and more intoxicating. Every passing second is a constant discomfort which makes the pleasure all the sweeter as you warm his cock for him as he works.

"Be ready." Is all the warning you get before he digs the tip of his knife forward into your unprotected hip, the sharpness of the blade splitting the skin like it were little more than butter.

As aroused as you were, it still hurt like fuck, and a stuttered cry is buried into his shoulder as you push your head up - the pain flaring with a wicked intensity before dissolving just as quickly into a dull ache. In the same instance, a tickle of dripping liquid rolls down your skin and you lie back on the floor as he discards the knife to the side with a noisy clatter.

Instantly his hand is pressing over the wound and the pain of the pressure adds to the adrenaline which is making your fingers tremble and your cunt clench, the latter making him grunt as he presses his groin as tightly against your sex as he can to fill you with every inch.

"S'only a superficial cut." Cooper groans, enjoying the determined way in your cunt was milking him with every inviting spasm. "For a scar we'll need to keep poking at you 'til the tissue is so damaged, you'll need to skin it off to get rid of me."

Pulling his blood-tinged fingers to your face, you nip at the pads of his fingers - the leathery skin rough against your lips - as you wrap your free arm around his back. Using him as leverage, you begin to roll your hips once more as you chase the release your body is now desperate for, every inch of your skin feeling sensitive and raw.

"That's the best- ah, the best fucking news I've heard all day."

Unleashing a low chuckle at the enthusiam, Cooper meets your determination with some of his own as he resumes his merciless fucking - all the while, his hand refusing to let up its pressure on the crimson 'C' which lay, freshly carved into your willing skin.

[xoluvx]

An idea for the “first of many” list could be meeting Billie’s family 🤭

omg yes i love this! 💖

you were nervous. so nervous you felt sick to your stomach. when she said she wanted you to meet her family, you were excited about the implication. to you, it meant she was serious about this. you were happy, but another part of you was terribly nervous because it meant you had to meet her family. she spoke of them fondly. you knew how close they all were and here you were. her girlfriend? she hadn't really asked so that only added to the layers of complexities that were your feelings.

"don't be nervous. they're gonna love you," she assured squeezing your hand as you stood at the door of her parents' house. she'd promised something small. low key. no pressure. just lunch. just her parents and finneas. maybe claudia if she was in town. she hadn't confirmed that yet, but that was already more than you could phantom.

you tapped her hand nervous clinging to her arm as she opened the door. the house was empty, but she moved with conviction leading you to the backyard where you heard the lively chatter of conversations and laughter.

"yo," billie announced her arrival as you let go of her hand not wanting to come off as clingy and informal.

"bils," claudia beamed rushing to her and trapping her in a bear hug.

"how was the trip?" she asked when she pulled away still holding onto her shoulders as you stood by her side awkwardly.

"amazing, but i'm happy to be home," claudia beamed as she turned her gaze to your shy frame. "and this is..." she extended her hand as billie introduced you even though she knew exactly who you were if it wasn't obvious by the big goofy smile on her face. it was no secret billie had been babbling about you to her practically sister-in-law.

you smiled sweetly shaking her hand before gasping as she wrapped you in her arms. billie looked at you as your eyes widened and she tried to hide her blushing smile as claudia pulled away. the rest of her family were still chatting as the three of you approached. it all went so seamless as billie hugged and kissed her mom's cheek. as she leaned into her dad and fist bumped finneas. as you clung to her side letting her take the lead and introduce you. as you shook hands with maggie deciding that was too formal, hugging you instead.

you sat in peaceful chatter next to billie and her mom. they laughed and goofed and asked you minimal questions while still making you feel part of the family. like you'd always been part of the family. like you were the part that was missing during their family gatherings. billie found your hand under the table, fingers interlacing with yours as she glanced at you with a small smile. her eyes shone bright as yours sparkled while you bit your lip still a little nervous. then she leaned in and kissed your cheek calming the remaining of your nerves when no one thought it out of the ordinary for her to just kiss you in the middle of lunch.

with hugs and kisses on cheeks, you said goodbye. billie held your hand as she led you to her car. you leaned against her baby before she opened the door for you. your hands on her shoulders. her smile proud and content.

"i told you they'd love you. maybe not as much as me, but-" she scrunched her nose and your lips parted at her inadvertent confession.

"you love me?" you whispered tracing every curve of her face as she came to the realization. there was no getting out of this. she knew that as she shut her eyes and smiled so big as you bit your lip nervously waiting for her to say something or do something.

"i do," she inhaled meeting your eyes as you squeezed her arms and almost squealed. "so i guess i should probably ask you to be my girlfriend, huh?" she whispered cupping your face and licking her lips. it was her turn to wait.

"i'm your girlfriend then" you couldn't contain your smile and the giggle that followed as she closed the gap between your bodies completely oblivious to the two women peeking through the curtains. they clung onto each other awing. the plate of food running cold in maggie's hand.

masterlist

[crestfallenyh]

new light ; jyh

cw: yunho x reader. reader making things hard for no reason, so this is quite long. sweet boyfriend yunho. a bit of a corruption kink. unprotected sex. backshot lol. breath play, hair pulling, biting and overall roughness mixed with a natural sweetheart yunho. not proofread, i'm testing the waters to start posting again.

"you should still talk to him, you know"

seonghwa's slightly muffled voice made its way to you as you groaned in disagreement with your face buried on his pillow. he gave you a sympathetic look before laying on the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbows and seemingly preparing to repeat the same speech about trust and communication he'd already given you twice in the past hour. before he could start, you rolled on your back and laid there, staring at the ceiling where the silver lightning from his bedside lamp drew funny shapes.

"i know i should, i'm just not sure if i'm ready to face his rejection yet"

you ignored the stern look he shot at you, he knew better than anyone how dramatic you could get when it came to your relationship. your fears were not unfounded, though. you had been thinking over and over for the past couple of weeks about the topic and yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak to yunho about your worries, and as much as you shouldn't do it, you couldn't help but convince yourself time and time again that it wasn't worth bringing it up. you wondered why, because your boyfriend hadn't been anything but supportive throughout the couple months you had been together. perhaps that was the problem. deep down you knew he wasn't going to judge you, much less laugh at you, as understanding as he was. it was just that the relationship was still quite new, feelings yet so fresh that despite his bright personality, he was often rather shy around you. the thought of him looking at you with flustered cheeks and doubt on his gaze, not from nervousness and anticipation but because of embarrassment, held you back from getting too sincere with him.

"i know he's gonna listen and maybe even try if i ask, but i don't want him to do anything he's not comfortable with," you sighed and put a hand over your eyes, the lights suddenly too bright.

"you wouldn't, though," seonghwa tried to reason, "yunho is not the type to not tell when he doesn't like something. also, i have a feeling he might be into that even if he doesn't know yet"

and with that you were left thinking. in more than one occasion you tried to play different scenarios in your head on how he could respond. your soft and sweet giant... how would he react if you ever told him about the dark fantasies running through your mind everytime you saw him, simply existing? what would he say if he knew how badly you wanted him to share the same passion for roughness you had, the same hunger?

up until that moment your sex life had been good, for the most part. he was always respectful and mindful of his strength whenever he held you, kissing you with light pressure and fucking you equally as soft. you liked it, but you wanted more. you needed more. you needed his weight on top of you, suffocating and hot. you needed his hands everywhere, those long fingers of his biting into your skin. he was always nice to everyone, it was no surprise he would be gentle in bed too, but you didn't want him to be nice to you. not in that instance.

maybe it was worth a shot. maybe if you told him what you wanted, he would find a new side to himself too. your hope it was, at least. that's why, by the time you met with him at your place a couple of days after your conversation with seonghwa, you were so nervous it was impossible for you to look him in the eye because the possibility of it going wrong scared you as much as the possibility of it going great. he noticed, of course. after all, he was always perceptive of any minimal expression you made and although he tried not to worry, his mind wandered off to sad places whenever he tried to touch you, hug you or kiss you and a slight hint of a wince appeared on your face. were you about to break up with him or something? his mind was restless, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense, with short whispered answers and stolen glances. you hadn't felt that awkwardness in forever. instead of dissipating the awkward feeling, the anxiousness of the situation going in the wrong direction already made you grow even more coy, and you reprimanded yourself. pull it together, you thought.

ten minutes into the movie you were watching and he sighed, pausing it and looking at you with a question in his eyes. impressive, you thought. he held quite well, but it was now your turn to hold your breath. you weren't ready, but you knew you had to let it out. one big sigh of yours after and you tried to ignore the slight shake in yunho's hands as he repositioned on the couch. him being as nervous as you somewhat calmed you, though you didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"it's nothing bad, i promise," you caressed the back of his wrist with your index finger, rummaging through your brain to find the right words, "it's just... you know, i've enjoyed our relationship quite well so far..."

yunho's eyes were fixated on your expression as you spoke for several minutes about how much you liked spending time with him and how he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, so intense that you couldn't help but avoiding his gaze. you said not to worry but your body was sending contrasting signals, eyes looking everywhere but him and twitching hands. he was slowly spiraling, waiting for the 'but' within your ramble. he couldn't even feign nonchalance.

"... i've never quite liked being with someone like i do with you, but..." yunho gulped, "... you know, i just.."

"what is it, love? are you not comfortable with something i did? tell me what is it and i'll fix it"

you shook your head slowly, finally making eye contact, "i don't think it's something you did, yunho. it's more like something i want but i fear i might make this awkward"

"you know when we have, you know, sex?," yunho nodded, more confused than before, "well, there's a lot of things i wanna try, and don't get me wrong, i like what we do now but i just... i don't know if you would want to do most of those things, and that's why i don't want to make you uncomfortable"

you cringed on your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were finally saying it and wondering if you should backtrack.

yunho's eyebrows furrowed.

"try me, y/n. do you want me to tie you up in the air or something?," he was so very obviously trying to joke but seeing how you made yourself small against the couch, he coughed, "wait, seriously?"

"would that make you uncomfortable?"

he stopped for moment to think about it, and finally shook his head no. he'd never tried in the past and he'd actually never thought of something like that to do with you, so he was surprised at his own answer. he considered himself a pretty standard guy when it came to intimacy, vanilla, if you will. he was too aware of the size of his body, so he never entertained the idea even though he knew people did lots of stuff out there. the more he thought now, the more he found himself interested on how the whole thing would play out. he was only worried about the safety of it all, and as such he explained to you. you listened, still a bit shaken up, relishing on how he was seemingly taking it serious even when barely anything had been discussed and you yourself had never thought of trying bondage, not too much at least.

"but seriously, if you wanted us to try something different, you should've told me before doll," he noticed how his words could come up as nagging, so he explained further, "i believe you when you say you've enjoyed it so far, but i'm always open to listen and i would want you to love it, instead of liking it"

and so, a long discussion ensued. at first it took a lot of courage from you to stop downplaying your actual desires and took a lot from yunho to stop blushing with each word you said. he never thought of you as the type to want to be choked and marked up, if he was honest. he wasn't scandalized per se, but the more you explained, the more he started feeling heat all over his body. he knew he was considerably taller than most and in the back of his head he knew people found that attractive, but knowing now how much you wanted him to do all those things to you and take full advantage of his strength made him lightheaded. he really appreciated how, although you couldn't seem to stop talking once you finally turned off the shyness switch, you still listened to everything he had to say to make sure he was also comfortable and just how far he was willing to go.

once the conversation died down you let the silence sink between you two, processing everything you talked about with your gaze lost in the distant glow of the long forgotten movie. after a while his voice and his hand on your thigh brought you back.

"you were scaring me back there, you know," yunho chuckled, soft eyes and a fond smirk drawn on his handsome face, "i thought you wanted to break up and turns out you just want me to rag doll you around"

the simplicity of his tone made you frown.

"well, now that you say it like that..."

he knew you were joking, and from one moment to the next you found yourself swiftly placed on his lap, curling his soft black hair around your fingers and kissing him, softly at first. his embrace around your hips was tender but firm and you trembled a bit, relief replacing the anxiety from before. seonghwa was right, after all, though you would never admit that to his face. you quickly forgot about your friend when you adjusted yourself on top of yunho and felt his hardness against your body. his eyes met yours and your breath hitched. how come the look in his eyes was so dark now?

"we can wait before trying changing things, you know," your soft whisper fell against his plumped lips, "think about it till you're comfortable"

yunho kissed you again, this time more fierce before tightening his grip on you and starting a trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck.

"do you want to do it now, though?," shivers ran down your spine as his now slightly hoarse voice ringed in your ears, "because i do"

you nodded almost too desperately as those electric eyes of his bored into yours and that was all the confirmation you both needed. suddenly your back was against the couch and he held up a hand to caress your face, moving the scattered hair aside while he positioned himself on top of you. as a reflex your legs wrapped around his lean figure and soon enough you were nothing but a bunch of short breaths and flushed pink cheeks, his hands went up and down your sides and a gasp left your mouth when he gripped your thighs with his ringed fingers. amongst the passion there still existed some gentleness and you whimpered, pulling him against you with need. everything was suddenly too hot. his touch, his breath, his forehead against yours after a particularly long kiss.

yunho unfastened the buttons on your shirt and removed it as well as your shorts, leaving you almost completely exposed under his exploring hands. he glanced at you to check how you were doing and you so badly wanted to wipe off the smugness from the curve of his lips, but before you could say anything, two of his fingers pushed your underwear aside and made contact with your wetness. your head fell back with every movement of his, soon enough his lips were on your neck and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. nothing on your head but him, everything was filled with the feeling of the cold metal of his rings against your folds and the sharp occasional pain from his biting on your neck that made you sink your nails on his broad shoulders.

it was intoxicating having him like this, his instincts so good at that moment that he knew where to touch you so as to pull the sweetest sounds from your mouth. he just knew your body so well. you wanted to return the favor, make him feel as good as he was making you feel but as soon as you lingered around the button of his jeans he used his free hand to grab your wrist and hold it above your head. you whined and his response was a chuckle. it was more fun than he expected, and he was honestly enjoying himself, drinking in the expression on your pretty face and the cloudiness on your hazy eyes.

"no, doll. today you'll just take what i give you, yeah?"

he waited for confirmation and once he got it, he flipped you around, pressing his torso against your back and his clothed pelvis against yours. the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs made you shiver, griping the couch tightly as he got a hold of your hips with his right hand to stop you from pushing back to feel him. his other hand was busy with his zipper and afterwards with prepping you. he slowly pushed two fingers inside of you and you gasped at suddenly feeling stuffed. yunho whispered reassuring words in your ear and after a while he took his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. inch by inch, you shut your eyes closed until he bottomed out and the air escaped his lips in a quick exhale.

you'd never tried it like this before and he could tell you were struggling a bit to take him, which was unusual. he attempted pulling out to let you adjust better but your muffled "no, don't" stopped him. he raised his already furrowed eyebrows, it was hard to concentrate with your warmth around but he paid attention to your breathing, waiting for it to be more steady before intertwining his fingers with yours from behind for support and pushing down with each thrust.

your moans became sharper and sharper and he almost couldn't resist the urge to go harder and faster, afraid he might hurt you. yunho loved the outline of your body and how you jolted every time he hit the right spot. he laid down on top of you, letting his weight fall almost entirely on you and enjoying the way your whimpering was almost involuntary at that point.

after a moment he grabbed a handful of hair to turn your head a bit, just enough for him to be able to kiss your temple. as if that wasn't enough, his other hand sneaked around your body to get a hold of your throat. he didn't put much pressure, but the feeling of his large hand restraining your air intake little by little and the feeling of his large body trapping yours had you shaking with a silent scream around his cock. as you rode your high, yunho slowed down the speed but not the force of his thrusts and so you were left there, overstimulated in the best way as he was chasing his own high. he was almost there, and the ringing in your ears could only be interrupted by the sound of his grunts and moans.

yunho pulled put and let go of your neck to finish himself off, looking at your exhausted figure and blissed out expression was enough to have him cum all over your back with a choked out groan. you smiled at him, taking in the image of him with his dark hair sticking slightly to his forehead. it shouldn't be as hot as it was, but seeing him practically fully dressed on top of your naked body made you feel fuzzy on the inside. your boyfriend smiled back at you and ran to the bathroom for something to clean you up. you would have to hop in the shower at some point for sure, but for now, after he finished wiping his cum off, the only thing you both wanted and had energy to do was to lay down.

he quickly slid one of his shirts on your body so you weren't cold and held you close, both still too agitated to give in to your heavy eyelids.

after a while of him caressing your back and you drawing shapes with your finger on his arm, you heard his voice again.

"you know, i think i liked that a lot," you nodded in agreement, both you and him knew that figuring out what each other liked the best was going to be a journey, but you were grateful for his willingness to try and he loved that you finally decided to confide in him, "what do you say?"

"depends," you joked with a sleepy voice and fluttering eyelashes, admittedly a bit flirty for his inquisitive gaze, "will you spank me next time?"

[bubblegumgothglados]

Do you want to hurt your victim?

Like really really hurt them? Like worst pain they've ever felt? And you want to do it with minimal risk of permanent damage?

Have you considered pulling their fingernails out? Here's a guide

What you'll need

Restraints. You probably want them supine in case they faint. You definitely want the hand you're working on well restrained so they can't flinch half way through and hurt themselves. You also probably want to gag them so they don't bite their tongue off by accident.

Tourniquet. To cut off the blood supply before removing the nail and then to help reduce the blood loss afterwards.

Pliers. For the actually pulling, you want maximum surface area but you also don't want to be flattening the curved edges of the nail because snapping it would be bad. So the exact size that'll be best will depend on the nail you're trying to pull. In any case make sure you can get a really good grip on it.

Anesthetic and pain killers. I'm assuming you only have access to over the counter stuff but get the best you can. If your victim uses their safe word when their nail is half way off dose them with pain meds and apply a topical numbing agent. From there you can either get them to a doctor to finish the job with proper local or finish it yourself because once its half way off it has to come all the way off it will not reattach.

Wound care supplies. Antiseptic, gauze, bandages, etc. I'm assuming you know wound care already.

Method

Restrain them as much as you feel necessary, sterilise the area and your tools, have your wound care supplies ready, clamp pliers down onto the nail, apply firm steady pressure up and away from the finger, wiggle slightly as it comes off. Pretty simple really.

As always if anything goes wrong be ready to call emergency services and get your victim to the ER. But really there's very little that can go wrong here. The only complication would be the nail snapping in which case you would finish removing the piece of nail you still have a hold of and then remove the snapped pieces.

Aftercare

Apply pressure until bleeding stops. Slather on antiseptic, wrap in gaze, and bandage. Do not apply ice, ice does reduce swelling but swelling is part of the healing process and ice impedes that process increasing total heal time. Re-bandage after a day or two, if the bandage has stuck to the wound run it under water until it loosens, do not soak (do not let them go for a swim). Keep an eye out for signs of infection.

Normal aftercare rules apply I.e. snacks, fluids, rest, and whatever emotional aftercare you both like and need.

Make sure your victim keeps their hand above heart level as much as possible over the next five days to stop blood from pooling in the wound.

There is the risk of damaging the nail bed causing the nail to grow back not quite the same. I've had this happen to me and it's slightly annoying not actually a problem

The nail should grow back in about six months, and then of course you can rip it out again

[locomoqo]

flowery whispers

— goo kim x reader

summary: In a kingdom full of secrets and strict rules, the Empress starts to feel a connection with her playful royal guard, Goo. What begins as small moments and quiet exchanges slowly grows into something deeper, though neither of them dares to say it out loud. Until one night, the constant pressure finally makes one of them crack.

details: NSFW content, afab reader, historical au (specifically joseon dynasty), bodyguard trope, infidelity, p in v sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), brief mention of masturbation

wc: 6.2k whew

a/n: i am putting all the blame on all the historical kdrama ive been watching + bridgerton + bodyguard goo brainrot WHOOPIEEE there's a gun or maybe even jake fic forming in my head as i was writing this but hey save that for another time ppl are waiting for their reqs

if you liked this, pls reblog with your like, tyyy mwa mwa!

and ofc i cant forget to tag my gorgeous mutual @jonggunkitten

The Empress. 

A title you would never have expected to bear. Your family, ever ambitious, had pushed you into the emperor’s selection, hoping to gain even more power than they already possessed. Poor child, a victim of your family’s relentless hunger for influence. Yet, you still remember how your mother had cradled your face so gently before you left, whispering praises and wishes for your success. Against the odds, you passed the selection and became one of the emperor’s consorts. You would have been satisfied with such a position, even considered yourself lucky to have reached that far. But it wasn’t over.

With your new position came the brutal competition to become the empress. Unlike the other consorts, you had no desire for the role and instead kept to yourself, spending days in the library, doing embroidery, or walking in the garden. You found these “glorified” days as a consort increasingly mundane.

Ironically, your actions—or lack thereof—seemed to intrigue the emperor. He arranged private meetings, allowing you to know him better, only for you to find him… lacking. A self-centered, somewhat dim-witted man, the emperor relied almost exclusively on his advisors' counsel. He would crack jokes, and though you didn’t find them particularly amusing, the other consorts would laugh enthusiastically. Nevertheless, the competition ended with the emperor declaring you as his empress.

Normally, one would rejoice, perhaps even celebrate, at such news. But you felt no such thrill—instead, a sense of dread crept into your stomach. Though the emperor was not a bad man, becoming Empress brought on responsibilities you weren’t prepared to shoulder. You knew that soon, the court would pressure you about an heir. And no matter your own feelings, the emperor was equally persistent in his desire for a child.

You tried, half-heartedly at best, yet no child came. Soon, even your minimal efforts turned to nothing. It was then that the royal physician was summoned, and one dreaded word hung in the air after his examination.

Infertile.

One word, yet it changed everything.

You lay in bed that night, clutching the blankets tightly as the word “infertile” repeated in your mind. Rumors spread fast in the palace, of course. You could feel the scrutinizing stares from advisors and hear the hushed whispers from the other consorts. Rumors circulated that the emperor was considering replacing you with someone who could provide an heir.

Then, as if your troubles weren't enough, your father visited, but not with comfort. Instead, he gave you a scolding, his gaze filled with cold disappointment, an expression that lingered in your mind long after he left. Exhausted and stifled by these thoughts, you threw the covers off, dressed in a light robe, and decided to take a walk under the night sky. The moon shone brightly, casting its silvery glow over the earth—a good night for a walk, you thought.

You navigated the palace grounds carefully, avoiding guards and servants, not wanting anyone to stop you. Eventually, you found yourself in the palace gardens, a familiar refuge. The air felt cool against your skin, and you drifted toward the pond, noting how much livelier the garden appeared compared to your last visit. Lotus flowers bloomed on the water’s surface, and you crouched down, gently touching one of the petals.

“At least one of us looks lively,” you murmured to the flower, watching your reflection in the water. “What am I doing, talking to flowers?” you chortled to yourself, straightening up. “They’ll call me mad next.” You could imagine the servants gossiping if they caught you conversing with plants.

A sudden rustling made you turn, spotting a blond tabby cat slipping out from the bushes. It padded across the stone wall, pausing to look at you. With a glance over your shoulder, you made sure no one else was around before softly approaching the cat.

“Good evening,” you greeted the cat, immediately wincing at how silly it sounded. “Or, I mean, hello there.” The cat continued to stare at you. “Off somewhere, are you? Somewhere better than here?” you asked, almost answering your own question. The cat let out a soft meow.

“Oh, me? I’m...busy with matters, as usual—mostly with babies,” you mumbled, feeling a slight pang of irony in your words.

The cat meowed again, watching intently.

“Does it get tiring? Well, it certainly does.”

Another meow.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but... I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

The cat meowed again, and you nodded as if it understood. “Running away, you say?” you laughed quietly. “As if I could. They’d have my head. And my family would be dragged down with me.” You paused, a spark of rebellion igniting. “But what if… what if I faked my death? I could stage it—leave behind some blood, tattered clothes… they’d think I’d been killed. I’d be free.” You whispered the words as if saying them aloud made it more plausible.

The cat tilted its head, seemingly judging your plan. You scowled playfully. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a good plan,” you muttered, testing the vines to see if they might hold your weight.

“Sounds awfully impulsive.”

“It’s not—” You froze, instantly releasing the vine. Patting down your skirts, you slowly turned to see a tall, blond man standing behind you, a smirk on his face. Recognition flickered—you’d seen him before among the emperor’s personal guards.

“Your majesty,” he greeted, his tone far too casual for someone addressing the empress. “It’s a bit late for a walk, don’t you think?”

His informal tone surprised you. Struggling to find words and maintain composure, you finally spoke. “I—I was only…surveying the garden. Yes, making sure the gardener is up to standard.” You straightened, hoping to maintain an air of authority.

“Right. Because inspecting vines is vital at this hour.” He only grinned wider. He chuckled, bowing slightly. “Ah, where are my manners? Junggoo Kim, one of his majesty’s personal guards.” His introduction was polite, but the mischievous glint in his eyes made you wary.

“Junggoo…” you muttered, still thrown by his demeanor.

“Goo, if you’d like,” he added, seemingly oblivious to any formalities.

The thought that he’d overheard you talking to a cat—or worse, discussing escape plans—made your face heat up. “You won’t… tell the emperor, will you?” you asked cautiously. His grin widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, your majesty. Consider it our little secret.”

You stared at him for a moment, suspicion creeping in. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I have nothing to gain by exposing you. Treason doesn’t suit me, plus I’d hate to be painted in such a negative light in the eyes of my empress.” He held up his hands in a show of innocence. Reluctantly, you nodded, brushing past him. “I should get back then, before anyone else sees me.” You tried to sound dignified, but he easily kept pace beside you.

“Going so soon?” he quipped, feigning disappointment.

“Why are you following me?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“It’s part of my duty to guard the royal family, not just his majesty,” he replied smoothly.

You shot him a sidelong glare. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much. We’re within palace grounds; there’s hardly any danger.”

He shrugged, that amused glint still in his eyes. “Oddly confident, aren’t you, your majesty?”

“And you’re oddly informal,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

With exaggerated dramatics, he clutched his heart as if wounded. “My sincerest apologies.”

After a few moments, you arrived back at your chambers. Turning to face him, you found him still smiling, that same relaxed, teasing expression. “Apology accepted,” you said coolly, stepping into your room. The door closed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the odd encounter. He was, indeed, an odd man.

It wouldn’t be the last time you’d meet him. Just a few weeks later, the court held another meeting regarding updates, and yet again, you dreaded it. They could be discussing far more important topics—like addressing the needs of people in the nation’s more remote regions—but instead, the focus was on you. Heir this, heir that; it was as if they saw you as nothing more than a child-bearing machine. All the endless chatter made you excuse yourself from the meeting, eager to escape the countless prying eyes.

That night, you found yourself back in the garden, attempting, once more, to assess the climb.

"Checking the vines again, your majesty?" A voice rang out, making you flinch before quickly turning around. But you relaxed at the sight of Goo standing there once again.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, suspicion and confusion evident in your tone.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he chuckled, stepping closer, but with a respectful distance.

After a moment’s pause, you finally replied, “...Yes, I’m checking the vines again.” You glanced back at the wall, feeling a bit foolish. He hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, your majesty, if you ever need help with gardening, I could lend a hand—I may know a thing or two.” He offered with a wink, his grin widening as you rolled your eyes.

“Gardening doesn’t seem to be part of a guard’s duty. Or is it an interest of yours?” you teased, plucking a dry leaf from a vine.

"Neither," he replied with a shrug, which only made you smile more. "But you see a pretty thing struggling, you’d offer to help, wouldn’t you?”

“You don’t seem like the type to help people,” you noted, eyeing him with a smirk.

“Normally, I’d charge them for my assistance,” he said nonchalantly.

"So if I were to ask for your help, you’d charge me, too?”

“I’d make an exception,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh, bringing a hand to cover your mouth.

“Oh, I’m serious!” he insisted, trying to feign offense. “Business is business!”

The more you laughed, the more you saw his exaggerated pout, and you dabbed the corners of your eyes with your sleeve. “Aren’t royal guards supposed to be loyal to the family?”

“Not all guards fit that description,” he said, watching you with a curious glint in his eye.

“Do you realize how much trouble you’d be in if this conversation reached his majesty?” you whispered, leaning in.

“Are you going to tell him?” he challenged, leaning in just as closely. “...No,” you whispered back, and his satisfied grin made your stomach flutter. "Since we both seem to have secrets," he suggested, “how about we consider each other… acquaintances?"

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his straightforwardness. “Acquaintances, huh?”

“Sure, I could lend you an ear, or a hand. Maybe even a knife,” he quipped, his casual shrug somehow sincere.

“You’re a peculiar man,” you observed with a shake of your head. “Are you even meant to be in the inner circle of the royal guards?”

Goo gasped, putting a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. “You wound me, your majesty! I’ll have you know, I am very proficient in martial arts and fiercely loyal to—” he paused, “...my duty.”

“The family?” you pressed.

“Protecting the family, not necessarily the family itself,” he replied, his expression unreadable.

You raised both eyebrows. “Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the king’s quarters?”

“Not my shift,” he answered simply. A beat of silence stretched between you both.

“So, what do you say? Wouldn’t you like to spill all your woes to someone?” he offered, leaning against the wall with a smirk. You considered it. It wasn’t such a bad idea, really; inside the palace, there was barely anyone to talk to—not even your personal servants. “Are you trying to gain something out of this?” you asked, studying his face.

“Must every relationship be transactional?” he retorted, feigning injury once more.

“You’re the one who mentioned business earlier,” you reminded him.

“I already told you—I’d make an exception,” he said, both hands placed on his chest as if to prove his innocence. His antics were so out of place here in the palace, more fitting for a comedian than a guard. Perhaps that was why he felt oddly safe.

“Well then,” you relented, “I’ll think about it.” You glanced toward the palace. “Now, it’s time for me to get back to my room.” You heard his footsteps fall in line beside you. “And I suppose you’ll be escorting me?”

“Part of my duty.” He shrugged, flashing you another one of his mischievous smiles.

And, from that moment on, you noticed his presence everywhere. Whether it was outside the emperor’s quarters or by the entrance to the court meetings, there he’d be, flashing you that same, all-too-familiar grin. Over time, his presence became a quiet comfort, something warm in the midst of the palace’s frigid decorum.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you made your way to the garden—only to find him already there. Smoothing your clothes, you cleared your throat. “You beat me to my own spot.”

“Gut feeling told me you’d be around here tonight, your majesty,” he replied, turning to face you. “Here to inspect the garden again? Still not up to your standards?”

You shook your head, a small smile forming on your lips. “No, I came looking for someone willing to lend an ear,” you admitted. “Or maybe a hand.”

“Or a knife?” he added, his quiet chuckle warming the cool evening air.

You laughed softly. “Yes, something like that.”

"Alright, I’m all yours. What’s on your mind?” he asked, his gaze softening as he watched you.

Sitting down on a nearby stone bench, you glanced at him before finally speaking. “Do you ever feel… trapped in your own skin?” The question came out softer than you intended, your hands clenched tightly in your lap. You let out a humorless laugh, “Of course you wouldn’t,” you added quickly, glancing down.

“Go on,” he encourages, his gaze steady on you, hanging onto your every word. His casual posture is contrasted by the intensity in his eyes as if he’s seeing through every layer you keep hidden.

You take a deep breath and continue, venting out the weight you’ve carried since becoming empress. “They’re calling me infertile!” you say, frustration and bitterness lacing your words. “It’s not even official, but you know how the court operates. The moment the physician spoke, the rumors took root. To them, his word is as good as the truth,” you finish with a defeated sigh, burying your face in your hands.

“Funny,” he muses with a bluntness that makes you peek out from between your fingers, “I always thought it was the emperor who had… issues.”

The statement makes you lift your head abruptly, staring at him. “What?”

He shrugs, looking off to the side as though he’s recalling something from memory. “I heard one of the physicians say there might be… something wrong with him.” His tone is casual, almost as if retelling a trivial story. But you know better; there’s something in his voice that hints at sincerity.

Rendered speechless, you just stare. He takes a step closer, studying you with an intensity that feels unsettling but comforting. “A theory,” he says, “is just a fancy way of saying a guess, don’t you think?” With gentle confidence, he places a finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “You’re the empress. You know your own worth. Why let them talk down to you?”

His words, laced with a playful smile, bring a faint blush to your cheeks. Embarrassed, you turn your head away, making him raise both hands in mock surrender. “Apologies, your majesty,” he offers, though there’s little sincerity in his tone. If anything, the glint in his eye suggests he’s thoroughly amused.

From that night on, a subtle yet undeniable bond begins to form between you. You seek him out, not just as a confidant but as someone who truly understands you beyond your title. He becomes your solace, the one constant amidst the coldness of palace life. And he’s there, unwavering, standing by your side as though he’s known you far longer than the palace walls would ever allow.

Goo feels himself teetering on the edge of a line he knows he shouldn’t cross. In truth, he suspects he’s already overstepped it. You may not realize it, but he’s been curious about you for a while now. He’s never given much thought to the royal family—until you arrived in the picture.

His first encounter with you in the garden left a lingering impression, an unexpected warmth stirring within him. At first, he brushed it off as pity, something any decent person would feel for someone in your position. But when the second encounter came, and you smiled at him, it took him off guard. Had he ever seen you smile before? He didn't think so.

After that, he couldn’t help but notice more about you—the way your eyes carried a hidden sadness, the elegance with which you held yourself even under the constant pressure. And when you began confiding in him, sharing your burdens, he couldn’t stop himself from caring. Oh, you poor thing, he thought to himself. Such a beautiful soul wasting your tears on someone as undeserving as the emperor. He knew of the rumors too, the whispers that floated through the halls as he passed the other consorts, women murmuring about how you’d lost your worth, how you’d be replaced soon. The emperor would be a fool to discard someone like you, but it wasn’t his place to decide that. Yet, he couldn’t shake his resentment toward the man, or the anger he felt for those who dared to insult you.

Goo knew he should keep his distance, staying within the boundaries of his duty, but it wasn’t easy. As much as he tried, his thoughts would drift to you in moments of solitude. And that was when he found himself in dangerous territory, unable to keep the rising emotions at bay. Despite knowing better, he let his imagination wander, fingers tracing along the growing need in his undergarments. He closed his eyes, your face in his mind, his hand moving in rhythm as he pictured you. Curses mixed with murmurs of your name escaped his lips as he imagined it was your touch that brought him pleasure, not his own. The thought of you, his empress, haunted him in ways he couldn’t control.

Then, one evening, it happened. 

The moonlight filtered softly through the silk curtains of your chambers as you sat by the window, lost in thought. Goo had been by your side for long now, his loyalty unwavering, his presence strangely comforting. But the more you let yourself linger in his warmth, the more dangerous it became—for both of you.

When you heard the quiet creak of your door, you knew it was him. He’d been on duty outside, and no doubt, he’d noticed your mood the moment he’d seen your expression that evening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was as light and easy as ever, yet there was a softness there, a familiarity that made your heart ache.

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “Goo… maybe it’s best if you’re not seen coming here so often. People are starting to notice.”

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a faint smirk, his blond hair catching the moonlight. “You’re worried about me? That's a first.”

“I’m serious, Goo.” You stood, folding your hands tightly to keep from reaching for him. “If they see us together this often, people will start talking. The emperor… he won’t be merciful if he thinks there’s reason to doubt my loyalty.”

Goo’s smirk faded, his expression growing serious. “Let them talk. It's not like I've ever cared for all the mindless rumors.”

“Your job is to protect the emperor, not…” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, knowing how much it revealed. But the unspoken words hung between you, charged with the tension you’d both been avoiding.

He took a slow step forward, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “Not what? Get close to you? Be around you, care about you? If that’s what you’re afraid of, then maybe I’m not the one who should be pulling away.”

“Goo…” you whispered, the plea in your voice as much for him as it was for yourself. But he wasn’t listening. He took another step closer, the air between you crackling with unspoken words, unvoiced desires.

“Do you think I care about the risks?” His voice was low, the usual humor stripped away, leaving only raw determination. “If the emperor’s men come for me, so be it. I’ll face a thousand of them, you know I can hold up in a fight just fine.”

“Then you’re a fool,” you murmured, but your words wavered, betraying the emotions you’d fought so hard to keep hidden.

You looked at him with a vulnerability that pulled him in, and he felt his restraint slipping. You were close, so close that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in. It was just a kiss—soft, tentative, barely there. But the taste of your lips was unlike anything he’d ever felt, a whisper of heaven he hadn’t known he could touch. For a moment, he understood why people lose themselves in loyalty to nobility.

The kiss was never spoken of, but it became the unspoken acknowledgment of something deeper. Afterward, you part with a soft kiss to his cheek, and he bids you goodbye with a kiss to the back of your hand. It’s dangerous, he knows that. It’s wrong. But he couldn’t help himself; with each stolen moment, each quiet meeting, his longing grew. He knew he was being greedy, wanting what he shouldn’t, yet he couldn’t ignore the desire building inside him—the desire to want you entirely for himself.

One evening, he found you crying. You sat in your room, your face buried in your hands, tears staining your cheeks. His heart ached at the sight, and he moved toward you without thinking. Crouching beside you, he gently lifted your chin, making you look at him.

“It’s my parents,” you whispered, voice shaking. “They came to visit, and… it didn’t go well. It feels like they see me as the problem—as if everything wrong stems from me when, for all they know, it could be the emperor who’s to blame.” You let out a quiet sob, a broken sound that made something snap inside him.

Without a second thought, he cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that kept falling. 

There’s a brief silence before he speaks, his gaze steady, softened in a way that’s rare for him. “All this talk about duty and expectations…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lifts, trailing softly along your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the moment. “If it were up to me, I’d tell you to let it all go. To do whatever makes you happy.”

You feel your heart catch at his words, your breath hitching. “What would you have me do, then?” you ask, voice barely audible.

“Simple,” he says, his lips curving into a hint of a smile, one hand moving to rest on the curve of your waist. “You’d just… stay here. Let someone else worry about it all for once.” He leans in, close enough that his breath mingles with yours. “Forget all those rules, let go of every plan and just… be here.”

There’s a beat of silence, thick and heavy, his thumb tracing gentle circles along your cheek. “Goo…” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in, mingling with the warmth that’s building between you.

“Besides,” he murmurs, his tone teasing yet low, almost reverent. “Who’d dare to question the Empress herself? If there’s any risk to be taken, let it be mine.” His voice grows softer as his fingers slide to rest along your jaw, cradling your face. “Just say the word.”

Your heart races at the promise in his words, his gaze unwavering as the distance between you vanishes. His lips hover just a breath away as he gently guides you to lay back.

A shiver runs through you, the deliberate slowness of his touch sending thrills down your spine. You exhale softly, the weight of his palm grounding you as his fingers trace the edge of your jeogori’s collar, lingering as if memorizing every fold of the fabric.

His thumb dips beneath the edge, nudging it back so it slips from your shoulders, revealing a sliver of skin. His breath hitches—a subtle, almost imperceptible reaction—but it’s enough to make your pulse flutter. His gaze darkens, roaming over the exposed skin as his fingers trace your contours, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’re quiet,” he whispers, his tone carrying a subtle challenge. “Empress.”

The faintest smile tugs at your lips, a spark of daring stirring within you. “And you talk too much,” you counter softly, placing your hand over his and guiding it lower. His thumb brushes over your fingers in a silent, mutual agreement.

He chuckles lowly, his face so close that his nose brushes against yours. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his lips hovering a breath away, close enough for you to feel their warmth. “I could show you better than I could tell you…”

His hand cups your breast, his head lowering to capture the sensitive peak of the other in his mouth. His thumb teases one while his tongue flicks over the other, attention divided yet equally intoxicating. Your fingers tangle in his hair and clutch his shoulders, soft moans escaping you.

He pulls back, his lips leaving heated trails as he begins to nip at your skin. A gasp escapes you when he bites down, harder this time. “Goo!” you whisper, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“What?” he grins, unabashed. “I can’t leave marks where they’ll see, so I might as well make the most of what I can, right?”

You roll your eyes, leaning back against the cushions. “Don’t be like that,” he purrs, pressing kisses lower with every movement. His hands glide down your sides, fingers gripping your hips gently. He pauses, eyes lifting to meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, your lips pressed into a small line as you watch him disappear between your legs.

The guilt and worry gnawing at you seem to vanish the moment he lowers his head. His warm breath brushes your folds before his tongue flattens against you, licking slow, deliberate stripes. A shaky breath escapes you as he savors you, his groan vibrating against your skin as he slurps at your arousal.

His tongue delves into you, mapping every sensitive part of your cunt with unhurried precision. The mix of his mouth and fingers—one sliding into you, then two—leaves you breathless. Your hips move on their own, grinding against his face. His eyes flick up to yours, satisfaction gleaming as he watches every gasp, every moan, every sign of pleasure that is his doing. His empress, shattering apart before him. It drives him to give you more. He needs more.

Your hand grips his hair as you whimper, “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your legs tighten around his head, and you feel his grin against your core before he presses a kiss to your clit, devouring you whole. It’s dizzying, overwhelming, everything all at once. His tongue and fingers work in harmony, unraveling you until you come undone, your juices spilling over his taste buds.

Goo pulls away, licking your release from the corner of his lips. You pull his face to yours, your mouths crashing together, tasting yourself on him.

“Under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to hear you,” he mumbles against your lips.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your mouth. “That is called greed,” you tease, your hands eagerly tugging at his clothes.

“What you’re doing is called greed,” he counters with a grin, his lips finding your neck as he helps shed his garments. Once bare, he meets your gaze, vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “You… you’re absolutely sure about this?”

Your hands cup his face as you nod. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

He searches your eyes for a moment before kissing you again. Lining himself up with your entrance, he moves slowly, the stretch pulling soft moans from your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your eyes flutter open, meeting the all-too-familiar ceiling—the one you’d rather not remember tonight.

“Wait—wait,” you whisper, tapping his shoulder. He pauses, brows raising in question.

“Just…” you adjust, shifting to straddle him. “Better,” you say, a smile on your lips as you begin to move.

He lets out a soft groan, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. “Better,” he agrees, his voice reverent as your walls embrace him, squeezing deliciously around him. His hips rise to meet yours, each motion driving you both closer to the edge.

Your rhythm quickens, every glide of your hips igniting sparks between you. Goo’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingertips digging into your flesh, guiding you as if the two of you were caught in a dance—one where neither of you wanted to stop.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his voice low and strained, betraying the control he’s barely holding onto. His eyes are locked on you, watching the way your body moves, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the flush of your skin. The sight alone sends a bolt of heat straight through him, and he can’t resist the urge to lift his hips sharply, filling you even deeper.

A startled moan escapes your lips, and his grin turns wicked. “Sensitive, aren’t you, your majesty?”

You lean forward, pressing your palms to his chest, your hair cascading over your shoulders like a curtain. “Quiet,” you murmur, breathless, though the command lacks any real bite. The way he fills you, moves with you, unravels you, leaves no room for authority—only the pull of desire.

Goo’s hands slide up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you down for a kiss. It’s desperate, devouring, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before his tongue sweeps inside, claiming you. He swallows your soft cries, his groans vibrating against your lips as he matches your movements with a feral need.

“Look at you,” he murmurs between kisses, his gaze burning into yours. “So beautiful like this, like you were made for me.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, a fire pooling low in your belly. Your thighs tremble, the pressure building inside you threatening to overwhelm. “Goo…” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

“Don’t hold back,” he urges, his hands sliding back to your hips, gripping them tightly as he takes control of your movements, driving you down harder, faster. “I want all of it—all of you.”

Your head tips back, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. His lips find the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing as your body trembles against his. He feels you tighten around him, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice rough and strained. “Just let go for me.”

And you do. Your release crashes over you, leaving you gasping as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Goo holds you steady, his own movements growing erratic as he chases his release. His grip on you tightens, a string of curses falling from his lips as he thrusts one last time, spilling into you with a shuddering groan.

You collapse against him, your body trembling, your breaths mingling in the heated air between you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close as if shielding you from the world beyond this moment.

For a while, there’s only silence—the sound of your heartbeats slowing, the weight of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” Goo finally murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement but softened by something deeper.

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Me? Dangerous?” you ask, a tired smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re the Empress who just brought her guard to his knees,” he says, his voice low, teasing. “Tell me that’s not dangerous.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against his chest. “Then you must be reckless for indulging me.”

His hand traces lazy patterns along your back, his lips brushing your temple. “For you? Always.”

You close your eyes, letting the world outside this room fade away, just for now. The guilt and pressures can wait. Here, wrapped in his arms, you’re simply you.

Goo hums as he polishes his sword, tilting it this way and that, even admiring his reflection in the blade. “What a handsome devil,” he muses, grinning at himself.

“Junggoo,” a voice cuts through his musings, calm but sharp.

Goo jumps theatrically, clutching at his chest like he’s been scared to death. “Gun! You trying to kill me?” he exclaims, glancing over his shoulder at the raven-haired man now standing at the door.

Gun doesn’t bother with a response, only rolling his eyes at the dramatics. “You’ve been reassigned,” he says bluntly.

Goo blinks, lowering his sword as his grin falters. “Reassigned?” he echoes, slowly standing, his lips already parting to protest. But Gun raises a hand, silencing him with a pointed look.

“Let me finish,” Gun says curtly, and Goo wisely shuts his mouth. “As I was saying, you’ve been reassigned to Her Majesty, the Empress.” Gun continues, his tone steady.

At this, Goo visibly relaxes, letting out a relieved sigh. “Oh, I thought—” He pauses mid-sentence, the words registering in his head. His eyes widen. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Gun gives a single, affirming nod. “General Choi’s orders.”

Goo’s grin slowly returns, and he’s already stepping forward, arms spread wide as if to embrace Gun. The latter narrows his eyes, and Goo halts immediately, retreating with a sheepish chuckle.

“Why the sudden change, though?” Goo asks, his tone genuine with curiosity.

Gun folds his arms across his chest, his expression unreadable. “Since Her Majesty is with child, General Choi believes she requires more… specialized security.”

Goo raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Specialized? I’m flattered.”

Gun tilts his head slightly, observing Goo in that unnervingly meticulous way he always does. Then, with no warning, he takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “That child is yours, isn’t it?”

Goo freezes, though only for a fraction of a second. “What child? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deflects, his tone light, his smirk firmly in place. “If anything—”

“You don’t have to act coy around me,” Gun interrupts, his gaze unwavering. “You think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes linger on Her Majesty longer than necessary? Or the smiles you two exchange when you think no one’s watching?”

Goo inwardly sighs, scratching the back of his neck. Nothing ever escapes Gun’s notice. “What’s it to you?” he says casually, though there’s a faint edge to his voice.

“Answer the question,” Gun presses, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

For a moment, Goo says nothing. He takes a step back, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he places his hands behind his back. Finally, he meets Gun’s gaze and offers a silent answer, one that needs no words.

Gun doesn’t react outwardly, his arms remaining folded, his expression as stoic as ever. “And how do you plan to handle this?”

Goo blinks, caught slightly off guard. “You mean…?” he gestures vaguely to his hair.

Gun pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling in exasperation. “Yes, that,” he mutters.

“We’ll call it a blessing,” Goo replies with a shrug, his smirk returning. “Besides, he’s going to die soon, isn’t he?”

Gun narrows his eyes, his tone shifting to suspicion. “And what does his death have to do with the child?”

“Our dearest Empress would be the sole ruler,” Goo says smoothly, his tone almost reverent. “You’ve seen how sharp she is. No one would dare challenge her authority.”

Gun’s expression remains neutral, though his silence prompts Goo to continue.

“Meaning no one would dare question the child’s legitimacy either,” Goo adds, his smirk now tinged with something darker, more calculated. He takes a step closer, placing a hand on Gun’s shoulder, his grip firm but deceptively casual. “And besides…”

His grin widens, playful yet faintly menacing. “I’ll be there to make sure no one does.”

Gun stares at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening slightly, but he says nothing.

“Now, my dear friend,” Goo says, clapping Gun’s shoulder before stepping back. “Don’t you worry your head about me. You’ve got bigger fish to fry, haven’t you?”

Gun’s gaze sharpens momentarily before he exhales and turns to leave. Goo watches him go, his smirk never wavering, but his eyes glint with something far more dangerous.

As the door closes, Goo picks up his sword again, admiring his reflection in the blade. “Ah, such exciting times ahead,” he murmurs to himself, his grin widening as he hums a tune, the weight of impending chaos settling comfortably on his shoulders.