#this took so damn long to type. never again man

[erikcampbellsprettywife]

“Ink Me, Baby.”

Part 4 – Inframammary Tattoo

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Erik Campbell x Bimbo Reader

The bell above the door jingled as you stepped into Erik’s tattoo shop like you owned the damn lease. Heads turned like always when that bell chimed—but this time, even the co-workers blinked twice.

Because damn.

Black lace mesh heels tapped against the floor in soft, deadly clacks, each step echoing like a countdown. Your legs were wrapped in sharp fishnet diamonds that glimmered slightly under the dim shop lights, like little traps stitched straight onto your skin. That micro leather skirt? Practically indecent—slick, high-cut, clinging to your hips like it owed you rent and was already two months late. And your top? A sheer, gothic daydream of a blouse—bell sleeves, high neck, and jet-black lace that hinted at the silhouette underneath but left nothing to the imagination if the light hit you just right. Tiny buttons undone just so. Collarbones peeking. Your hair was beautiful, it swayed with you. Not a lick of makeup. Not even gloss. Just your pretty colored skin, glowing like an expensive chandelier under candlelight—dewy, soft, and criminally pretty.

You walked in like you were here to either bless the shop… or destroy it.

Bag of greasy fast food in one hand. Large soda in the other. You were the definition of I came to cause problems and feed my man.

Erik looked up from his station—hands gloved, lip piercing halfway in on a client—and the second his eyes landed on you, his brows arched just slightly. He didn’t say anything right away. Just took in the whole look, slow and steady, blue eyes tracing from your heels up to your face with the tiniest twitch of a smile like it physically pained him how hot you looked.

The door softly automatically closed behind you. “Why’s everyone lookin’ like I just strutted in here naked?”

“You might as well have,” Erik muttered, dragging the piercing needle through the guy’s lip with expert precision, his voice flat—but his smirk wasn’t. “You’re lucky this isn’t a kirk.”

The guy in his chair turned slightly and blinked at you, his voice garbled through the lip clamp. “This is your girlfriend?”

Erik didn’t even pause. “Nah, this is just some chick that keeps showing up dressed like sin and feeding me like a stray.” He shrugged. “It’s working, unfortunately.”

You gave a single, sweet, mocked gasp.

The guy blinked again, confused.

“Don’t worry,” you said to the poor pierced man, waving your soda. “He flirts with everyone. It’s part of his customer service voice.”

Erik groaned softly. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

The client snorted as Erik finished the piercing and gave him the usual care spiel. Once the guy paid and shuffled out mumbling ‘damn, she really bad though,’ Erik finally peeled off his gloves and turned to face you fully.

“And what happened to all your pink?” he said, eyes narrowed slightly, that smirk tugging at the edge of his lip. “You look like a Wednesday Addams fever dream.”

You slumped the food bag dramatically onto his counter and took a long, slow, loud sip of your drink. Slurp. “Oh, so I’m not allowed to be your dark angel now?”

He leaned on his elbow, watching you lazily. “Never said that. Just… didn’t expect you to show up looking like you bite people for a living.”

“I do bite people for a living.”

That made him laugh under his breath, tongue brushing over his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you mused, resting your hip on the edge of the counter, cleavage just slightly visible through the lace. “Don’t you like..? How do I put this… alternative girls?”

“That’s my style,” he said, stealing a fry from the bag. “Not my type, babe.”

Your stomach fluttered. Stupid, girly, chaotic butterflies. The good kind.

So you leaned closer, lashes fluttering. “Anyways. I brought you food. I expect eternal devotion in return.”

“I already give you eternal devotion,” he said, mouth full of fries. “That’s why I didn’t kick you out when you sent me thirteen stupid-ass memes at three in the morning.”

“They were wholesome.”

“They gave me a migraine.”

“Shut up, you saved two of them.”

“I saved one.”

“You saved two. I saw. You even sent one to Bobby.”

He scowled softly. “Snitch.”

“You’re welcome.”

Erik pulled out the burger and took a bite, eyeing your outfit again from the corner of his eye like he couldn’t not. “I like the grunge,” he mumbled through a bite. “But I like you in pink better.”

You blinked. “Oh?”

He just shrugged, casual, cool, chewing slowly. “You shine different when you're glossy and glittery. Like a pretty little gem. All sparkly and obnoxious.” He booped your nose lightly with a ketchup-covered finger and went right back to eating.

You literally almost combusted. Like, your heart did a full cartwheel in your chest and your spine felt fizzy. Your pupils practically morphed into pretty pink hearts on the spot—wide, dilated, love-struck. You looked at him like he’d just told you your birth chart was perfect, your credit score was 850, and he canceled all your red-flag exes from the timeline.

Your stomach? In knots. Your brain? Mush. Your soul? Wearing a tutu and doing pirouettes like a majestical ballerina.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you breathed, voice a little squeaky with how violently you were holding back a full-body reaction.

You looked down at your lace-covered chest like you needed to make sure your heart was still inside your body and hadn’t just glitter- bombed out onto the floor.

You softly wipe the ketchup off your nose.

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m gonna cry.”

“Please don’t. I’m eating.”

You smiled so hard your face hurt and slid onto his rolling stool like it was your throne. “Well. I’m here for another tattoo, booboo.”

Erik paused mid-chew. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He sighed, eyes closed. “I just did your back. Literally like a week ago.”

“That’s such a hyperbole statement to claim. Besides, I tipped you like a desperate stripper.”

“That you did,” he muttered. “Where this time?”

You pointed. “Like, under my tit.”

Erik squinted. “An inframammary tat… today?”

“Yup,” you said, kicking your legs innocently. “I even shaved for you.”

He stared. “It’s gonna hurt.”

You smirked. “Kinky.”

He choked a little on his drink.

“Jesus Christ, you freak” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I don’t have another client till three.”

You stripped off your lace top like it was nothing. No shame. “If you weren’t my boyfriend, this would be so wildly inappropriate.”

Saying as if he hasn’t recently just pierced my nips.

“You are wildly inappropriate.”

“And you love it.”

He tossed you a pair of petal-shaped nipple covers. “Stick these on. And please don’t flirt with me while I’m sanitizing the machine.”

You slapped them on dramatically, topless now except for your leather skirt and heels, sitting cutely like a statue in a museum of hot messes. Erik didn’t even pretend not to look.

“Eyes up, Campbell.” You scoffed at the perv.

“I’m trying,” he muttered, chuckling as he prepped the stencil.

He wiped the skin clean, leaned in close, and pressed the transfer gently against the side of your ribcage. The chill of the stencil solution made you arch a little, which earned a quick glance.

“Careful,” you whispered as he adjusted the placement. “You might fall in love while shading that butterfly.”

He paused. “Too late.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

He smirked and didn’t answer.

The machine buzzed to life.

He began to tattoo.

And you? You laid on your side, comfortable on that tattoo bed, soft breaths falling from your lips as the needle hit your skin. It burned, but in that way you liked.

That pretty pain.

And not to mention his hand placements, he was so comfortable, sitting on his rolling stool while leaning into your body, it made it easier anyways.

It went on like that for nearly two hours—banter, bickering, teasing.

“I’m bored,” you groaned mid-way through. “Tell me about your childhood trauma.”

“No.”

“Tell me about your favorite band.”

“You’ll roast me.”

“I already roasted your band poster.”

“That is my band.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“You’re lucky I feed you.”

You moaned once—dramatically—just to mess with him.

He groaned. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Sounding like that. This is a public space.”

“Oh, please. I’m literally your girlfriend. You pierced my nipples.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to flirt while I’m stabbing you.”

“But I want to flirt while you’re stabbing me,” you pouted sweetly, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. Your big, starry doe eyes shimmered up at him—all soft, glowy mischief and natural pretty charm, framed by long dark lashes that you didn’t even have to curl. You were made to get away with things.

He knew what you were doing, that thing you did with your pretty eyes that always got him hard.

Erik didn’t even look up—just shook his head with the ghost of a grin tugging at his mouth, biting back how badly he wanted to kiss you instead of tattoo you. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dabbing gently around the stencil. “You need therapy.”

You smirked, chin tilted. “You’re literally giving me permanent trauma right now. This is therapy.”

“God help me,” he muttered again, finishing the last little heart with a careful swipe of ink and a flick of his wrist, like you were a living canvas and he was trying not to lose his mind over it.

When he wiped it clean and wrapped the area, you sat up slow, braless and glowing.

He admired it.

You admired him.

“Gorgeous.”

“The tattoo or me?” you asked.

He looked at you—eyes low, voice rough. “Both.”

You slipped your top back on and flopped up straight on the client chair like you were made of silk. “Will you rub lotion on me later?”

“No.”

“Even if I pout?”

“...Maybe.”

“Even if I cry?”

“...Ugh. Yes.”

You grinned. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

You kissed his cheek, stole a fry, ruffled his messy hair, and looked at him like he was the only boy who ever mattered.

“I’m still your goth sugar baby now.”

“‘Pink’ sugar baby,” he corrected, popping the last bite of burger into his mouth. “Goth’s temporary. That obnoxious glitter in your soul? That’s forever.”

You beamed. “I’m glad you love it.”

And Erik just shook his head like he was doomed.

“God help me,” he muttered, wiping his hands. “I really fucking do.”

Then he looked at you—really looked at you.

Still perched half on his client chair, legs crossed at the knee, shirt barely pulled back on over your braless chest, the bandage peeking out beneath the hem. Your hair was a little messy from where you’d flipped it back too many times, your lips slightly parted, skin flushed from the needle, and your eyes—

God, your eyes.

Big, glossy, pretty things—starlit and full of trouble. Your lashes fluttered like they were made of velvet. That soft, slow smile spread across your lips like honey melting in the heat.

He stood and stepped closer.

Didn’t say a word. Just reached for your waist, guiding you off the chair gently, his palm splaying warm and possessive against your hip as he tugged you closer until your bodies were nearly flush. You tilted your chin up, lashes lowering just a little.

“Hi,” you whispered, voice all sugared silk.

He huffed a soft laugh through his nose, eyes scanning your face like he needed to memorize every detail, every sparkle of light across your cheekbones.

Then—slowly, finally—his hand slid up to your jaw, thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone, fingers grazing the underside of your chin. His touch was reverent. Gentle. Worshipful.

“It’s actually kinda insane how much I like you.” he said, almost under his breath.

And then he kissed you.

Not fast. Not greedy.

Slow.

Like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment, and this was it.

His lips met yours in a soft, almost cautious press—warm and deliberate. He kissed you like he was figuring it out, savoring every second. His fingers curled at the back of your neck, drawing you closer. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders instinctively, pulling him in until there was no space left between you.

The kiss deepened.

His mouth parted against yours, the slow drag of his bottom lip catching slightly as your noses bumped, and then again, more certain this time. His tongue brushed the seam of your lips and you sighed, parting them willingly, melting into the taste of him—mint, salt, a hint of spice from the fries, and something so Erik it made your stomach twist.

He groaned low in his throat when you nipped his bottom lip, barely there, but it wrecked him.

You giggled softly between kisses. “Thought you weren’t the soft type, Campbell.”

He kissed you again, firmer this time, like he needed to prove you wrong.

Then pulled back just slightly, lips still brushing yours as he whispered, “Shut up.”

But his smile was real. Soft. Crooked.

And when he kissed you again—one hand fisted in your hair, the other sliding low on your back—you felt it all: the hunger, the heat, the tension that’d been building since the second you walked in wearing lace and leather and that damn smug smirk.

You kissed him like you meant it.

And he kissed you like he was already yours.

Your fingers stayed curled in the front of his shirt, knuckles brushing warm against the chain at his collarbone. You were still close when you finally pulled back, just barely, noses brushing. Your lashes fluttered and you blinked up at him with those big, pretty eyes—doe-eyed and dangerous.

Then, like a sweet little afterthought, you gave him one more kiss. A soft, slow peck. Then another. And one more, right at the corner of his mouth, your lips barely brushing his skin like a sigh.

His hand stayed firm on your hip, but his smirk came back lazy, lip a little red and kiss-bitten.

“Mm,” you hummed, smiling like a devil in lace. “Can I give you a tattoo now?”

Erik blinked.

“...Excuse me?”

You shrugged innocently, pulling back just enough to plop your cute ass right back into his rolling stool like you were about to ruin his life. “What? I brought food, got stabbed, kissed you passionately—I deserve to ink a little heart on you or something.”

He stared at you, equal parts horrified and amused. “You are not touching my machine.”

“But I’m so gentle,” you teased, batting your lashes. “I’ll be so sweet, Erik. I swear.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I could do a little butterfly,” you pouted, voice sing-song. “Or your name in pink cursive. Ooh! Or a Hello Kitty with fangs—”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“C’monnnn,” you pleaded, reaching for the tattoo gun dramatically. “Just a lil' dot? A sprinkle of chaos?”

Erik pointed at you like he was about to lecture a toddler. “If you so much as breathe on my setup, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out.”

You tilted your head, smiling wider. “Handcuff me while you’re at it.”

“…Unbelievable.”

“And yet you’re still in love with me.”

Erik sighed, deeply, and muttered, “God help me.”

But the way he leaned down and kissed your temple? Yeah. You were totally winning.

Twenty Minutes Later

You were fully straddling Erik’s lap now—bare thighs warm against his jeans, his shirt somewhere on the floor, and your manicured hands steady as you held the tattoo machine like it was your own personal wand of chaos.

He sat leaned back in his client chair, head tilted lazily against the headrest, abs flexed just enough to distract you if you weren’t in full artist mode. His nipple ring caught the light, glinting silver just below where your tattoo stencil rested—right above his pec, high enough to make it cheeky, low enough to make it dangerous.

And you?

You were in deep, sparkly focus. Starry eyes narrowed, lips slightly parted, the tips of your lashes kissing your eyebrows as you leaned in close and focused, needle buzzing like a secret between you. Your tongue poked out a little in concentration—so unfairly adorable it almost distracted him more than the needle did.

His hands were tangled loosely in your hair, fingertips softly stroking your scalp like he was grounding himself with every motion. His rings brushed your neck every so often, cool and comforting.

You’d chosen a delicate crescent moon, turned just right above his heart. And tucked along the curve? Three tiny bats—each one barely larger than your pinky nail. Perfectly spaced, dainty little wings outstretched like they were in mid-flight. It was witchy, moody, just the right mix of spooky and sweet.

“This is gonna look so good,” you murmured softly, not looking up. “You’re gonna thank me later when someone compliments your sexy bat titty.”

Erik let out a low chuckle, thumb still idly brushing behind your ear. “My what?”

“Bat titty,” you repeated sweetly, tapping the skin just above his piercing. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m never saying that out loud.”

“You will when you look in the mirror and feel hot as hell.”

He hummed, smirking lazily under you. “I already feel hot as hell. You’re on my lap in fishnets.”

You grinned but didn’t lose focus, angling the machine slightly to finish one wing. “Aw. You’re flirting with your tattoo artist.”

“I’m in love with my tattoo artist.”

“Yeah, well,” you whispered, glancing up through your lashes just once, “she’s dangerously talented and kind of a hazard.”

“Sounds like my type.”

You went quiet again, finishing the last delicate swoop of a wing. The buzz stopped. You gently wiped the area, leaning back just a little to admire your work.

And Erik?

He was still watching you.

Like you were the art.

You slid off his lap with a satisfied little wiggle, careful not to bump the fresh ink. Your leather caught the light as you stood, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn that was far too smug for someone who just tattooed a crescent moon and bats above her boyfriend’s nipple.

Erik exhaled through his nose—amused, wrecked, and still a little dazed-looking—as he reached for the black tee he’d flung over the back of the stool earlier. He slipped it over his head with zero ceremony, tugging it down in that lazy way that made the hem catch slightly on his waistband before falling into place. The fabric hugged the slight taper of his waist, hiding the view you’d just spent twenty minutes worshipping like it was a damn Greek statue.

A tragedy, honestly.

His abs weren’t even that defined in the current lighting—soft shadows and silver piercing glinting just barely through the cotton—but still, the man looked like a forbidden snack from the back aisle of Hot Topic and you were starving.

You took a moment to watch him while he moved around his station. He tossed y’all’s used gloves into the waste bin, sanitized the table and machine like muscle memory, and wrapped the fresh ink over his chest with practiced ease. His hands worked quickly, slipping tools into drawers and rearranging ink caps, cool and quiet as ever.

Even now, even cleaning, he moved like something unbothered and wild—fluid and confident and full of quiet power. Your chaos. Your calm. Your favorite walking contradiction.

Finally, stretching his arms just once, cracking his neck. “Neck tattoo client’s coming in like… five minutes.”

“Yikes,” you winced. “Good luck with that. Neck people are always so dramatic.”

“Says the girl who just got stabbed under her tit and moaned.”

“Those weren’t moans,” you smirked, snatching your bag. “Those were emotional gasps. There’s a difference.”

He gave you a look like he was resisting the urge to pull you back into his lap again. But instead, he leaned down and kissed you once—quick, messy, warm—right on your gloss-less lips.

You smiled against his mouth and pulled back just slightly, brushing some hair off his face. “I’ll see you tonight?”

He nodded, blue eyes locked on yours. “Yeah. Text me when you're home.”

You booped his nose one last time for good measure. “Only if you promise to dream about me.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning. “I always do.”

And with that, you swayed toward the door, heels clicking lightly, fishnets whispering against your thighs, makeup-free face glowing like the world’s most dangerous angel.

The bell jingled behind you.

And Erik?

He watched the door long after it closed. Already counting the hours.

[kuidore]

hi, could you do some random romance HCs with Rumi & Jinu (i think thats how you spell his name)?

i’m so late on this bc i’ve been prioritizing other ships but yes it’s time

RuJinu Headcanons!! ☆ Rumi x Jinu ☆ KPOP Demon Hunters

☆ Jinu is the type of weirdo to sleep with a top sheet. it’s honestly just because that’s what came in the set he bought and he just assumed every human used it. despite this he never makes his bed ever

☆ Rumi always does and she literally has to teach him how to do it because she’ll be damned if she lets him leave her bed all wrinkly on days she has to leave the penthouse first

☆ it took like three days for them to start sleeping in the same bed, the whole sacrificing his soul thing did soften the betrayal a lot

☆ he still had to spend those three days grovelling like a beggar for Rumi to forgive him, practically wailing about how he messed up so so so badly and would never ever let himself be so selfish again, how he’d spend eternity making it up to her

☆ she takes pity on him. cause honestly it’s getting a little bit pathetic and he does clearly feel real fuckin bad about it.

☆ and also. the soul thing. she honestly was ready to forgive him after that but Mira smacked a little sense into her

☆ “DUDE. Make him work for it at least a *little*, because if he can do that soul thing again he’s gonna think it’s a get out of jail free card!”

☆ Rumi highly doubts he can do the soul thing again, neither of them are even fully sure how he managed to show back up after having done it in the first place, but she does admit that Mira was right and she does at least deserve an apology that’s not happening while he’s actively dying

☆ Rumi sleep talks. a lot.

☆ usually it’s just incomprehensible nonsense, but Jinu will stay awake to listen to it just because he thinks it’s cute

☆ (he’s hoping she’ll say his name or something)

☆ When she finally does it sounds like she’s angry at him in her dream and he pouts about it all night

☆ she was dreaming about them playing mario kart. he beat her. that’s why she was ‘mad’ at dream Jinu.

☆ She ends up telling him this, after having to pester him for actual hours about why he seemed so pouty

☆ he was trying to hide it but. he’s not good at it. Bitch is an open book, especially to Rumi

☆ he’s double embarrassed. one because he got caught watching her sleep (she didn’t care, she kinda already knew he did that because on multiple occasions she literally wakes up to him staring at her and ignoring the book he’s supposedly reading) and two because he assumed it was some sort of serious dream about maybe his betrayal or something and got all self-hatey about it

☆ Rumi has to have a genuine talk with him about just pouting and keeping his emotions to himself because like. dude. that’s at least a little bit of what got us here in the first place.

☆ and also he’s her boyfriend and she wants to be there for him obviously

☆ emotional vulnerability ain’t my man’s strong suit but Jinu is trying. for Rumi. and he’s very very slowly getting better

☆ That woman has the patience of a saint, and it also sort of helps that she’s currently also trying to work through her own self-demon-hatred, so she can’t really fault him for taking such a long time when he’s been struggling with this shit for like. 400 years.

☆ Demons don’t technically need sleep, and Jinu in particular does not like sleeping

☆ it’s a latent guilt thing from the ‘sleeping in silk sheets in the palace every night’ – after a few months with Rumi, he finds it a lot easier to lay in bed without thinking of his own sins

☆ eventually he actually starts sleeping when she does, sometimes. But usually he prefers to read or sometimes clean but mostly watch Rumi sleep.

☆ Edward Cullen ass bitch

☆ Sitting and doing nothing except looking at his girlfriend for six to eight hours is still a thousand times more entertaining than the demon realm he spent four centuries in, so he doesn’t exactly get bored or tired while she’s knocked out

☆ Rumi has like. a sixth sense for when Jinu is about to start Spiralling™ about something, and she will literally use those kindergarten breathing techniques to calm him down because it’s the only thing that works

☆ “okay, pretend you’re blowing out birthday candles”

☆ (she has to explain what birthday candles are, but that’s exactly why she uses the kindergarten metaphor ones; not only do they calm Jinu down, but having to sit there and listen to her explain them also slows down his mind and makes him think about something other than his own guilt or hatred or whatever it is this time)

☆ For the first little while in their relationship, Jinu does the same thing we see him doing in the second half of the movie as he actively hides his demon features from Rumi

☆ all the other Saja boys have varying degrees of ‘caring about human-ness’ when they aren’t in public, Jinu is the most extreme. He will never show his demonic features if he can avoid it, and at times when he can’t (ex. excessive anger or emotion), if he’s with Rumi he still manages to force it back

☆ If for some reason he can’t do it, he will leave the room until he can. This happening is what finally makes Rumi realize what he’s been doing and why

☆ He’s ashamed of being a demon, while Rumi is tired of hiding and desperate to let go of her shame. It was honestly just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when it does it’s the thing that causes their first big fight and jumpstarts Jinu’s emotional maturity journey

☆ Rumi breaks down and says something along the lines of ‘if you’re so ashamed of that part of you, then how can you possibly love me?’ and it clicks

☆ he realizes the difference between ‘not caring’ and ‘accepting’, and realizes he’s been doing the former when it comes to Rumi’s demon half.

☆ intentionally or not, he realizes that hiding and being ashamed is also telling Rumi that she has - and always had - something to hide

☆ The boy has a bad habit of being very ‘me me me’ with his emotions, not that he doesn’t care how they effect others but he quite literally doesn’t fathom that they do, after having been a demon for so long where his emotions and shame are all his own, where he didn’t have the social connections where people would care if he was hurting or care about how he felt about things at all

☆ his fight with Rumi helps him relearn the fact that his insecurities can damage other people, and he very slowly starts dialing back the self-hatred

☆ he’s not mentally ready for therapy but boy does he need it

☆ he’s also skeptical about how much a human therapist could help with ‘400 years of internalized shame about betraying your family and simultaneous indebtedness to a demon king’

☆ the compromise is little self-help books that he doesn’t want to admit are actually helping because their titles are so fucking stupid

☆ He also makes an active effort to be less weird about his demon markings and eyes, and be more vocal about how much he loves the parts of Rumi that show exactly what and who she is – demon-ness and all

☆ he becomes a little bit obsessed with kissing along her marks/‘scars’, to the point where it’s almost embarassing

☆ When Rumi gets pissed off, she does start to go through a bit of a transformation herself, similar to what we saw in the movie

☆ When this happens, Jinu is always the one to calm her down. He takes her hands and kisses her fingers and her claws, he lightly traces along the marks on her arms with his fingers, until the repetition and the familiarity helps to her calm down

☆ Talking to Rumi when she’s so pissed off she’s started transforming is almost useless, especially early on when she’s still struggling with so much hatred for herself. it just exacerbates her anger and sends her into a spiral, so sitting in silence together and letting Rumi calm down and trying to ground her with physical sensations or stimuli is Jinu’s solution, and it works really really well

☆ It eventually gets to a point where Rumi can control it similar to how the boys can, but the scars from her markings never go away even if she’s not actively making them appear. she can’t make them disappear either, they’re just there now and she has a bit of a hard time accepting it at first.

☆ Jinu’s habit of tracing along them is one of the first steps to her acceptance of the scars as a part of her, an important one. She was never necessarily ‘ashamed’ of them, but moreso were worried that other people would think they were ugly or that they made her look weird

☆ She eventually starts smiling instead of frowning when she brings a hand up to touch the ones on her face when she’s looking in the mirror

☆ Rumi doesn’t blush easily, the only real tell that she’s flustered is the way the tips of her ears go red and she starts stumbling over her words

☆ Jinu pouts about this until he realizes he can hear her heartbeat speeding up when she gets nervous or flustered, and at that point he realizes Rumi actually gets flustered a lot more than it seems like she does

☆ Girl has a poker face of steel but inside she’s screaming throwing up punching holes in the walls desperately clawing against the urge to climb Jinu like a tree whenever he puts his hand on the bottom of her back to lead her through a crowd or something

☆ They’re not a major PDA couple, especially compared to the absolute fucking menaces that are Zoeystery and MiRomAbby, but there’s barely a moment in public where those two aren’t holding hands

☆ If a moment does in fact occur, Jinu will do everything in his power to at least keep a hand somewhere on Rumi, especially if they’re in a crowd because he’s terrified of losing her in it

☆ she could handle herself perfectly fine. neither of them have any issues with crowds, she’s not gonna panic if she’s alone. but he will, not about him being alone but about her. he’s just. weirdly worried about losing her in crowds of people?

☆ there isn’t a deep-seated trauma reason or anything he’s just a protective little weirdo who doesn’t like it when he can’t see his girl for more than five seconds at a time

☆ it’s like he thinks she’s gonna get trampled or something

☆ Jinu went back to the bridge for like a full week looking for that bracelet lady so he could get a matching one for Rumi

☆ She makes a comment that ‘maybe he’s not so hopeless after all’ and pats him on the shoulder, and he almost cries

☆ (he does. he does cry. he just waits until she’s too far away to notice)

[ironladders]

zaterran/saurian lore masterpost (all games)

these are mostly meant to be notes for myself so i don't have to constantly check the fandom wiki because i hate using that website, but anyone can use this post as a guide or reference point. there is only so much information about zaterra and its people, but i tried to compile and summarize everything we do have.

if i missed anything, or got something wrong, let me know.

note: i will be referring to them as only zaterrans just to make this easier. midway couldn't decide on a name, and nrs was stuck on that for a while too—but now that mk1 has seemingly settled this, i refuse to go back and forth between them all.

history

original & alternate timelines:

millions of years ago, zaterrans lived on earthrealm, being a bipedal people descended from dinosaurs. unlike their dinosaur ancestors, they had evolved more intelligent brains and were able to thrive as a proper society. however, when shinnok turned against his fellow elder gods and came into conflict with raiden, the following battle was so disastrous that it triggered the K-T event on earthrealm that wiped out the dinosaurs and almost all life on earthrealm. the surviving zaterrans fled the disaster and were split into two: some of them left earthrealm to reside in a realm called zaterra ("new earth") in hopes of rebuilding their culture, and the rest took refuge underground in hollow earth.

for the zaterrans that were displaced, things were fine for a while, until shao kahn came along to conquer their realm. the zaterrans lost the effort against the emperor, and following the trend of other realms that have been conquered by shao — such as edenia, vaeturnus, osh-tekk, and arnyek — zaterra was absorbed into outworld. after this, the zaterrans left were taken into slavery and driven to near extinction. it's not known exactly when shao took zaterra, or how long it took for the zaterrans to start dying out out, but syzoth's mortal kombat 2 bio mentions that his race was believed to be extinct "millions of years ago." in addition, the few remaining zaterrans alive don't actually remember these events happening.

as for the zaterrans that fled to hollow earth, they managed to endure and thrive underground without any interference. there is not much information on their history or what they experienced in hollow earth, other than that they went undetected and are ruled over by a matriarch.

the new era:

in liu kang's new era, zaterra is part of outworld, making zaterrans now native to outworld instead of residing in the realm as a result of conquest. adding to this, there's now more than one species: instead of being different terms to refer to the same group, "zaterran" and "saurian" are now two separate species from one another. the difference between them has not been elaborated on yet. syzoth's mk1 bio calls zaterrans "one of the reptiloid races which lives on outworld's fringes", so whether there are more reptiloid groups outside of zaterrans and saurians is also up to debate.

zaterrans are no longer a near-extinct race, but they still face hardship and are heavily discriminated against. the full history of zaterran-outworld relations in the new era is unknown, but several of syzoth's intros indicate that they once thrived above ground in outworld, before being herded underground by "warmbloods"/non-reptilians. they, along with saurians, now reside in outworld's subterranean areas. why exactly they were driven underground has not been explained yet, but the history there has resulted in both groups hating one another; outworlders are openly bigoted to zaterrans such as syzoth, while warmbloods are generally unwelcome in zaterra.

zikandur has been brought up in some lines, most likely being an area in zaterra where lots of outworld’s reptilian people currently live. its history is unexplored, aside from mentioned past events like the zikandurian floods. it is apparently at risk of being invaded by the kytinn, though why the latter are doing that is also unknown.

at some point in time, a policy was passed in the zaterran government to kill all zaterran shapeshifters. the reasoning behind this and how long ago it started is unknown but considering that syzoth was bullied relentlessly for his shapeshifting mutation, knowledge of zaterran shapeshifters must have faded from the general public after this order was first carried out. in general, zaterra's government is implied to be extremely corrupt.

many zaterrans are dissatisfied with the royal family, either attempting to start or joining rebellion efforts. after his bloody escape from lei chen prison, general shao has been recruiting these dissatisfied zaterrans to join his rebel army in outworld, with the goal of overthrowing mileena's rule.

biology

original & alternate timelines:

the design of zaterrans changed over the games, but they were generally depicted as green (though this also varies, i.e in the case of khameleon) bipedal humanoids with scales, claws, and lizard-shaped heads. they are also close to size of the average human as well. similar to chameleons and frogs, zaterrans have tongues that can extend far beyond their body to catch prey. zaterrran saliva is acidic, able to be used in kombat as a attack/defense mechanism and possibly to help digest food. this acid is very strong, able to melt right through flesh. for some reason, their blood is green.

a zaterran's diet differs from the average human one, mainly consisting of live bugs/insects/worms, but raw meat (including humans) is also on the table. zaterrans are able to make themselves and others around them invisible.

in the first two timelines, all zaterrans possessed the ability to shapeshift between their true forms and more human-like appearances. there is a catch to this, though: their society is matriarchal, and any zaterran who spends too long away from a matriarch & her influence will devolve, losing their ability to maintain a human disguise. this will also negatively impact the mental state of the affected zateerran. however, if they make their way back to the matriarch, the ability to look human and general sanity will return.

alongside all of this, there is a card in mortal kombat mobile that confirms they can regenerate their limbs.

the new era:

in the new era, zaterran biology is generally similar to how it was in the previous timelines, but with some changes.

for starters, these new zaterrans are bigger and more animalistic-looking than their old versions. they are still able to walk on two legs, but one of the moves syzoth's boss has in his invasions season confirms that they can also run around on all four legs. the previous games flip-flopped on whether or not to give zaterrans tails, but in mortal kombat 1 they have tails again—these are used by zaterrans to grab and move things, essentially like a fifth limb.

i have no clue if their actual limbs can still regenerate or not.

outside of these small changes, there is one very significant one in the new era: the average zaterran is no longer able to shapeshift. there are some zaterrans who are able to shapeshift between a human form and reptiloid form, but those who hatch with this mutation are not accepted by their people and often bullied, run out of their homes, or killed. they also don't seem to be matriarchal anymore.

all known members

original & alternate timelines:

SYZOTH/REPTILE:

a long-lasting franchise staple and the most well-known zaterran in the series, syzoth — better known as his codename "reptile" — lived a long life of servitude. original timeline: syzoth was one of the last surviving members of his species, desperate to find a way to bring back his people. syzoth loyally served shang tsung and shao kahn, who kept his loyalty with the promises of restoring the zaterran race. ironically, shao was the one who caused the extermination of his people, but syzoth did not know about this. after shao was murdered by the deadly alliance, syzoth wandered around before he turned to serving nitara (who he'd ran into previously and gotten his kirehashi blade from), as he did not know how to live without serving a master. nitara accepted him, but unbeknownst to syzoth, she too was deceiving him. the vaeternian manipulated syzoth into battling cyrax, damaging the cyborg, which in turn would help with nitara's goal of getting the portal sphere. when syzoth eventually realized he was being used, he was enraged and chased after nitara and cyrax to the lava shrine, but arrived too late. the only thing there was the egg of onaga. it hatched, shining a beam of light onto syzoth, making his body become a vessel for the dragon king. much later, when shujinko defeated onaga and his soul was bound to the netherrealm by nightwolf, syzoth was once again able to have free will and gain control of his own body. he was seen in the red dragon's lair for unknown reasons (most likely trying to create hybrids that would restore his race), and joined the forces of darkness at the battle of armageddeon. he was killed at the battle, along with the majority of the other fighters. alternate timeline: thanks to the reset by raiden, syzoth was back to serving shao kahn and shang tsung, fighting against the earthrealmers in the tournament and later battles. after losing the tournament, syzoth knew that shao kahn would not take kindly to this failure and kept his guard up. he was proven right when the osh-tekk warrior kotal was sent to assassinate him in his sleep; however, to syzoth's surprise, kotal spared his life and didn't go through with killing him. the following morning, shao kahn formally introduced the two, saying that kotal had hand-picked syzoth to serve under his command. from there, kotal earned syzoth's genuine loyalty. when shao died and mileena seized the throne, kotal declared a coup against her. syzoth was at his side during this, taking a blow for him, and continued to loyally serve afterwards. understanding that kotal saw value in him where shao did not, syzoth was committed to serving the new ruler of outworld as a close follower and friend. his whereabouts and status after the events of mortal kombat X are unknown, outside of a few mentions in intros and a small appearance in the krypt from mortal kombat 11.

KHAMELEON:

debuting in mortal kombat trilogy as a secret character, khameleon was the last known female member of her race. unlike syzoth, khameleon actually knew the truth of their people's history. however, because she chose to fight for earthrealm and wished to slay shao, this meant the last surviving members of the zaterran race were mortal enemies. at some point, khameleon set out to search for syzoth. she spent a long time looking for him, wishing to inform him that shao kahn was responsible for their race's extinction, and try to start a new generation of zaterrans. once she found him and reveal the truth, syzoth initially agreed to help her kill the emperor—only for him to fall under shao's influence once again, turning against khameleon. she escaped and wandered the realms until she heard of a battle that would happen in edenia, with the victor being given the prize of ultimate power. khameleon knew that shao kahn getting this would be disastrous and joined the forces of light in the battle of armageddon. along with the rest of the fighters, khameleon died at the pyramid. while she was referenced a few times and even made a brief cameo in the background of mortal kombat 9, khameleon's whereabouts and history after raiden's timeline reset are unknown.

CHAMELEON (unconfirmed):

debuting in the same game khameleon did as a fellow secret fighter, ch-ameleon never actually got a storyline or arcade ending in mortal kombat trilogy, unlike his female counterpart. the only information about chameleon at the time was that he was mentioned to be "one of shao kahn's deadliest warriors." it took until chameleon's next appearance to finally get a (extremely vague) backstory: supposedly, he was present at every major event in the games dating back to liu kang's victory in the tournament, but constantly kept himself hidden and watched everything unfold while waiting for "his moment" to arrive. he fought with the forces of darkness at the battle of armageddon, dying at the pyramid with everyone else. chameleon's presence in the alternate timeline is also miniscule. in mortal kombat x, one of syzoth's mirror match intros will have him question if the counterpart in front of him is chameleon, implying the two know each other. in addition, chameleon falls to his death in mortal kombat 11's krypt, but the canon status of the krypt is debatable. other than this, there's no information on him. the reason that chameleon's status as a zaterran is marked as "unconfirmed" is because.... uh, it has never been outright stated he is one in any game. considering he shares traits with khameleon, who is a zaterran, chameleon being one himself would make sense. there is also the fact that syzoth mistakes his mirror match for chameleon, further alluding to him being a fellow reptilian. in addition, mortal kombat co-creator john tobias has said that his original intention was for chameleon to be a fellow zaterran, but this information just didn't make it into any of the games for some reason. at the same time, if chameleon was a member of the zaterran race, this would directly contradict established information about syzoth being the last living male zaterran. i don't know, man, the devs do not care about this guy and it shows.

QUEEN SYTHOLIN:

presumably the former ruler of zaterra, before shao kahn conquered the realm. no information about her exists, but sytholin's blade — one of the few remaining zaterran relics — can be found inside of goro's treasure chamber in the mortal kombat 11 krypt; according to its description, the wielder can control the minds of smaller reptilians and have them obey the user's will.

the new era:

SYZOTH/REPTILE:

unlike his previous iterations, mortal kombat 1's syzoth is not in a desperate cycle of trying to restore his race. however, he was run out of his homeland of zaterra after being relentlessly bullied for his shapeshifting mutation. up until his arcade ending, syzoth believed he was the only one of his kind who possessed this ability. syzoth joined a traveling carnival to profit on his shapeshifting skill, even marrying an unnamed woman with whom he had a son with. him and shang tsung crossed paths, and when the latter asked to experiment on him, syzoth denied the offer. but shang tsung took syzoth's family hostage anyways, using them to keep him obedient in being a slave; from there, he was experimented on and aided in shang's inhumane experiments on others, all for the sake of his family. that went on for months, before the earthrealmers and baraka were captured and fought their way out of shang tsung's laboratory. syzoth tried to stop them, knowing that if he didn't his family would be killed, but lost the battle to baraka. after this, syzoth learned the truth: his wife and son had already been killed devastated by this, but also understanding that there was nothing keeping him under shang tsung's thumb anymore, syzoth escaped into the living forest with the other men. from there they met ashrah, attempted to stop the sorcerer quan chi from activating his soul stealer in the living forest—but despite failing at that the group still captured him with the intention of bringing him to earthrealm for questioning. to help his companions escape, syzoth disrupted the shivai ranatai festival in sun do and fought off several other characters, providing enough of a diversion for everyone to flee the realm (without quan chi, who managed to get away). it's not known what syzoth did for the remainder of the main story after arriving in earthrealm, but in his tower ending it's revealed that mileena appointed him as her emissary as thanks for helping unveil the truth behind shao and shang's plans. with his renewed political status protecting him, syzoth journeyed home to zaterra, where he discovered the conspiracy by the zaterran government to exterminate all shapeshifters. at some point after the main story's events, syzoth entered a romantic relationship with ashrah, but the details of how this began are (sadly) currently unknown. (more info TBA if khaos reigns gives me anything else)

KHAMELEON:

in the new era, khameleon is no longer the last female zaterran alive. in fact, khameleon isn't even the same species as syzoth anymore. an intro with takeda reveals that khameleon is a saurian, which is said to be distinct from zaterrans. the details of khameleon's life are largely unknown, but she is a member of the umgadi, a group of warrior priestesses. umgadi members are selected from firstborn women in outworld, taken as infants to be raised as one and train to protect outworld's royal family. khameleon was seen throughout the main story assisting tanya in fights against percieved threats to the royal family. she is probably a fellow reptilian shapeshifter, but unlike syzoth she keeps strictly to a human form. (more info TBA if khaos reigns gives me anything else)

ARCHDUKE MAHAZZEM:

only being mentioned once in a syzoth/sindel intro, mahazzem is one of zaterra's many archdukes. the only known details about mahazzem is that sindel considered him to be a friend, but this "friendship" was a mask. in truth, he secretly plotted to betray sindel and rebel against her rule. (more info TBA if any intros or even KR, while unlikely, gives me anything else)

OTHER POSSIBLE MEMBERS: erlac dicharr, nareb nevets, hatigo mesgo, sever nahhan, sykin foh

these are names from syzoth's gear that could be of other reptiloids, as they don't really sound like locations or events, and i don't think they're references to real-life things as nothing comes up when i google them. but at the same time i'm not entirely sure, so take this last bit with a very large grain of salt

k thats all for now byeeeee

[simpforboys]

Surprise! (3)

Drew Starkey x fem!singer!reader

Summary: reader and Drew celebrate the release of the ‘Perfume’ music video!

Warnings: fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), praise, swearing, male masturbation, dirty talk, missionary position, sex on couch, daddy kink, protective piv sex, boob worship (?), drinking wine, fangirling

Part one, part two, part four

taglist is full :(

Two weeks had went by.

Two long, busy weeks of you not hearing much from Drew, other than the promotions and photo stills you would send him.

It was finally the release day, and within 18 hours, the video had already reached 200 million views.

You were currently sitting on your light grey couch, flicking through Netflix movies when your phone buzzed with a notification.

Drew Starkey: Hey, congrats on the success of the video. I’m still very honored you wanted me to he apart of it. You still down to celebrate?

Oh.

In all honesty you were expecting Drew to stop talking to you after the shoot.

But within those two weeks, you were both extremely busy, so reaching out was hard.

That didn’t mean you two didn’t text at all, it was just two or three messages a day.

Drew was notorious for being a bad texter, not to mention how filled up his schedule was.

So you never took it to heart. Or, at least tried.

But seeing the notification that he actually still wanted to hang out, wanted to celebrate with you…

Your User: hi, thank you so much! i’m still so happy and grateful you said yes <33

Your User: and yes i’m still down to celebrate!! when are you free?

Maybe the double texting was too much, but you were already a glass of wine in, and texting your celebrity crush.

To your surprise, he replied pretty quickly.

Drew Starkey: I’m actually free rn surprisingly, are you?

Oh.

You were in fact free, but ready was the better question.

No, you were not ready to see Drew fucking Starkey, especially looking like how you were currently dressed.

Only wearing sweatpants, a shirt that is three sizes too big, fuzzy socks, and no bra was not exactly presentable to meet the love of your life.

Your User: yes, but i look absolutely horrible rn

Again, another quick response.

Drew Starkey: I doubt that. Can I come see you?

You typed out a message.

Your User: CNEOSHWOSHEODNEOWHSOWBSIFBEOSBAJDBDKDHOSBSKSBDJSHS😜✊👍😜🤭🔥🫶😩

That was what you really wanted to reply with, but instead went for something more nonchalant.

Your User: yeah, you want my address?

It was never good to share your address to anyone online, especially after only meeting in person twice.

But it was Drew Starkey. You would send anything to that man, no questions asked.

Drew Starkey: Yes please

You had spent the last 30 minutes frantically cleaning your apartment. Not that it was a complete mess, but you did want it to be cleaner than what it was.

A soft knock on your door was heard, heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking with nervousness.

Peeking through the peephole, seeing his familiar face was enough to make you almost back out.

Why did you have to be so fucking nervous? He was just a man.

Your fingers unlocked the door, opening it gently.

“Hey, Y/n.” Drew smiled warmly at you, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi… come on in.” You grinned back, trying to hide the feeling in your chest.

Drew’s long legs guide him inside the apartment and he takes a second to look around.

It was cozy, and definitely you.

“I got these f’you.” He hums, holding out the flowers.

“Oh, these are my favorite flowers, Drew… you didn’t have to do that.” You awed, taking the bouquet as he practically handed it to you.

He knew they were your favorite flowers. He might have looked up y/n l/n’s favorite flower onto Google. Not that he would ever admit that, though.

“Really? Damn, lucky pick, I guess.” He chuckled, scratching the side of his neck a little sheepishly.

Putting the flowers in a vase, you realized that he was wearing sweats and a hoodie. It was 10:23pm on a Friday, and clearly you two were appreciating a night off.

It made you feel better about your outfit.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink? I have white or red wine, beer, vodka, soda, water…” You trailed off your options.

“What’re you drinking?” He hummed.

You nodded over to the coffee table, an open bottle of wine with a half filled glass on it.

“Wine.”

“I’ll just have some of that, then.” Drew murmurs.

You grabbed another wine glass and walked over to the couch, hearing his feet behind you.

Sitting down on the couch, you got all comfortable underneath the blanket again, then reached over to pour him a glass of wine.

“Cheers, to the success of ‘Perfume’, and to you.” Drew says softly, holding his glass out for you to clink.

Feeling your face grow a bit warm, you tapped your glass with his.

“Cheers to you being amazing.” You took a sip of the wine, your eyes locked onto his blue ones.

“You have a nice apartment, by the way. Forgot to say that.” He hums.

“Thank you, I wanted to make it as cozy as possible for those rare times I am at home.” You explain.

"Yeah, I get that. Life nowadays is just so hectic." He agrees, blue eyes trailing over your face, as if committing each feature to memory.

"Well, yeah. You're all big and famous now," you tease.

He chuckles sheepishly, his large hand running along the back of his head.

"You have any big plans coming up?" He asked you.

"Yeah, actually. I'm supposed to be preforming at the iHeartRadio Jingle Ball festival in a week," you nod.

"Really? Damn. That beats me, then." He joked.

"What do you have coming up?" You questioned.

"Variety is going to have Harris Dickinson and I do that Actors on Actors interview thing."

"Yeah? That sounds fun," you hummed.

The two of you spent an hour and a half talking about life, success, and just got to know each other.

You both finished the bottle of wine and were now onto your second bottle, the two of you tipsy as you giggled on the couch.

Your body felt warm and you weren't completely sure if it was from the alcohol or the fact that a beautiful man was sitting a foot away from you on your own couch.

Drew felt the same, and one specific joke you made had him laughing a little too hard. His eyes creased in the corner as he smiled, those pretty dimples on display.

But when his large hand went to rest on your knee, the wine in your system completely fought off your anxiety, making you more relaxed.

You found yourself leaning into his touch, your hand resting atop of his.

"Your laugh is so cute, Drew," you murmured.

"Yeah? You're cute," he responded.

You bit your lip, eyes locked onto his. "Is that the alcohol talking or you?"

He grinned, shaking his head.

"That's me talking."

Oh.

"You're sweet..." you trailed off, trying to ignore how butterflies filled your belly.

He just hummed, a comfortable, tension-filled silence falling between you two.

"So, you really had a crush on me for four years?" He teased, squeezing your knee a little.

"Oh, god. We're back at this now, huh?" You grumbled in embarrassment, although there was no real malice behind your tone.

He smirked, licking his lips. "We never left it."

"I certainly did."

"Yeah? You don't have a crush on me anymore?" He murmured, the playful tone in his voice making your stomach turn more.

"I didn't say that...." you trailed off, picking at the extra skin near your nails.

His eyes trail over your form again, taking in every inch of you he can see that's not hidden by the blanket on your lap.

"Hm? Sorry, I didn't hear you."

You rolled your eyes, face hot. "I'm sure you didn't."

He laughed, scooting a little closer to you so your legs were touching.

"'m just fucking with you," he said softly.

"I know..." you glanced over at him, eyes instinctively falling down to his pretty lips.

It had been too long since you felt them on you.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the boost of confidence Drew had gotten, but he slowly leaned in, his free hand going to run his index finger and thumb on your chin.

"Is this okay?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah... yes..." you breathed out shakily, heart racing.

He hummed, gently connecting your lips to his own.

Feeling that familiar, addictive spark when his skin touched yours. You immediately kissed back, your left hand going to cup his jaw.

Kissing. You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey. And it wasn't for work, wasn't for cameras. He kissed you first.

Within moments, he was laying you back on the light grey couch, the fluffy blanket being left abandoned on the floor.

His tongue was in your mouth, sculpted body hovering over yours. Your thighs were spread for him to nestle in between, left hand still cupping his strong jaw, right hand in that soft brown hair.

On instinct you pulled a little on the strands, making him grunt into your mouth. He disconnected your lips, trailing sloppy, needy kisses down your jaw and neck.

Chests pressed together, it was as if you two couldn't get any closer.

"Mhmm... Drew..." you whimpered softly when he nipped at the skin of your pulse point.

"Yeah? That feel nice, sweet girl?" He murmured, voice muffled from his attention on your neck.

You nodded, legs squeezing him in between your body.

"Can I take your shirt off, baby?" He asked, not wanting to do anything you weren't desiring.

"Please.." you breathed out, heart racing, stomach flipping.

His large hand slipped the oversized fabric off and over your head, a small whine leaving him when he saw your pretty tits.

"Fuck, Y/n... you been hiding these from me?" He mumbled teasingly, continuing his line of kisses and nibbles down your collarbone, in between the valley of your breasts.

"All you needed to do was ask," you panted. Your back instinctively arched up, your chest needing some attention from his warm mouth.

He groaned at your answer, moving slightly down your body until he was eye level with your hard nipples. He swirled his tongue around the bud, blue eyes locked on your face when he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

Your body jolted a little, making him hold your side with his left hand, his right hand massaging the other stiffened bud.

He switched sides after a few moments, relishing in the sounds of your pretty moans and pants.

But something else was throbbing and aching, desperately needing his attention.

"Drew," you whined.

"Hmm?" He hummed, still worshipping your boobs.

"Need you."

"Yeah?" He cooed, reluctantly disconnecting his mouth from your right nipple as he continued to kiss down your stomach.

You nod, breathing short and needy. He got to the waistband of your sweatpants, looking back up at you.

"You can take those off too." You gave permission, already knowing what the man was going to ask.

He wasted no time in slipping the fabric down your legs, readjusting so his face was in between your spread thighs.

"Look how you ruined these panties, pretty girl... you're so needy f'me, huh?" He murmured softly.

All you could do was whine when he pressed a tender kiss to your clothed clit, the fabric absolutely soaked. It had been way too long since you'd had sex.

His large hand slid the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely bare for him.

"So beautiful, baby. So beautiful..." he muttered, talking more to himself than you.

Your legs twitched when he flicked his tongue against your clit, hands digging in his hair.

"Drew--"

"I know, baby. Let daddy eat this pretty pussy, yeah? Just sit back and relax."

A needy whimper left your mouth, but you didn't respond. Not that you could, as he licked a stripe from your pulsating hole to the top of your clit.

He hoisted your thighs over his broad shoulders, moaning a little at your taste. His movements became more eager, beginning to lap at your cunt like a starved man.

Right hand in his hair, left hand gripping the couch. Your eyes rolled back, hips bucking up towards his face.

He made a grunt directly into your clit, another jolt of pleasure going into your body.

"Daddy... fuck..."

His piercing blue eyes were feeding off of your facial expressions, his cock throbbing in his own sweats.

He slipped two fingers into your cunt, focusing his mouth on your clit. His left hand slid down his own pants, beginning to palm his cock through his boxers.

"Yeah? Is daddy making you feel good, sweet girl?" He coos, whining a little as his own hips buck on the couch, desperate for more friction.

His noise and hips bucking made your cunt clench around his fingers, as if trying to pull him in deeper.

The knot in your stomach was already forming, almost embarrassing how quickly he turned you into a mess.

Legs trembling over his shoulders, hips rocking against his face and chin. You couldn't even announce you were coming, mind fuzzy from the pleasure.

He hummed when he noticed you releasing, continuing to lap up all your juices as he came in his pants.

When your body calmed down, he pulled away from your pussy and kneeled in between your legs.

He peeled his own hoodie off, revealing that perfect, toned body of his again. Your eyes drank in the sight, licking your lips.

“You’re so hot, Drew…” you murmured.

His ears were ringing, need coursing through his veins as he slipped off his sweats and boxers.

You had to physically hold back a gasp when you saw his cock for the first time.

People had always written it differently in all those guilty pleasure Rafe Cameron fanfics you would read when you couldn’t sleep.

But seeing it in person was just a whole new experience.

It was long and thick, which was to be expected. The man radiated big dick energy.

Pretty mushroom tip that was still leaking, his pubic hair slightly fuzzy as if he hadn’t shaved it in a week.

“Holy shit…”

“Mhm? Better than you imagined?” He asked teasingly, a smirk on his face as he grabbed a condom from his wallet.

You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes, a small snicker leaving you.

He rolled the condom onto his shaft, moving to hover over you again.

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked softly, eyes gazing intently into yours.

“Yes… please fuck me, daddy.”

He let out a small groan, nestling himself in between your thighs. He used a long, strong arm to grab a couch pillow and tuck it under your hips.

You watched as he teasingly slid his head up and down your slit, tapping it against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Don’t tease me, please,” you beg.

Your pretty begging weakened his resolve as he slowly slid into you.

Whimpers and noises of pleasure left the both of you at the feeling, a course of energy being shared within your two bodies.

He kept pushing until he was all the way inside, giving you a moment to adjust as he captured your lips in his.

Your hands roamed over his biceps and back, loving the way the muscles flex against your palms. His skin was burning, adding to the electric feel.

When he felt you stop tensing around him, he began to slowly pull back, before pushing in, creating a delicious rhythm.

“Fuck… you feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” He moaned.

Your legs tightened around his hips, a noise leaving you as he rubbed right against that spongy spot.

“So deep, Drew… can feel you so deep,” you whined in between breaths.

“Yeah? You take this dick so good, pretty girl.”

His movements were getting a little rougher with every minute passing, both of you needing this.

Your crush on him for four years, the sexual tension you shared in the music video, the chemistry when you first met him on The Tonight Show.

It was all so surreal and felt like you were living straight out of a fanfic or dream.

His head dropped down to your chest, clearly having a thing for your hardened nipples as he nibbled gently.

Maybe one day Drew would fuck you without the condom and be able to feel your warm, velvety walls squeezing him without the protection.

He could dream.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You swore, the pillow under your hips allowing for his tip to kiss your cervix with every thrust.

“Mhm, yeah. Good girl.” He praised breathlessly, feeling a little lightheaded from everything.

The couch creaked a little beneath you two, your nails digging into his back.

He was already close, eyes fluttered shut as he lifted his head to press a kiss to your forehead.

His calloused thumb went to rub your clit, making your legs twitch around his sculpted hips.

Your cunt squeezed around his cock, your belly on fire with your building orgasm.

“You gonna cum f’me, sweet girl?” He choked out, hips snapping against yours.

“Y-yes!” You squeak, mind hazy, body trembling.

“Yeah… that’s it… let me feel you…”

His breathy words, deep penetration, and touch on your clit sent you over the edge again.

You moaned loudly, clinging onto his body as he talked you through your orgasm.

He was also talking himself through it, feeling his cock twitch as he spilled his seed into the condom.

His body was still against yours, both of you catching your breaths from the intensity.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead again, his chest rising and falling.

“You okay?” He asked you softly.

“Mhm… ‘m good…”

You kissed his lips again, more gently this time. His nose brushed against yours when he pulled away, lips connecting to your cheek.

He reluctantly slid out of you, kneeling between your legs again as his blue eyes gazed down at your cunt.

“Did you bring any more condoms?” You ask after a few moments.

He looks at your face, then reaches over to grab his wallet. He pulls out two more condom wrappers.

You grinned, licking your lips.

“So are we going two more rounds or what?”

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear @kaiparkerwifes @herbookgarden @luvleyshif4 @caraxes-syrax @mymultiveres @reader1402 @dinnodallas @darkreymbow @vinaluvsu @sarahskywalker-amidala @christinechickiee @hoelesslyt @tincanhat @scenesofobx @james-bucky-barnackle @angvl3tears @belledawnidk @millietozier @vrsluts @chimmysoftpaws @brathwaite444 @urmanicpixieangelgirl

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Keep Talking

Your LADS man hitting it so well that you start speaking another language. Here's how I imagine they would react. [Requested by: tianalamb] A/N: Took some creative liberties as always CW: ‼️MDNI‼️fem!reader, afab!reader, p in v, raw dogging

Zayne

Type: Checks if you’re okay

Zayne is already incredibly touch starved so anytime the two of you are getting it in he is absolutely drowning in you. Nothing, but tangled limbs, faint snow particles that melt when they touch your heated skin, heavy breaths, searing wet kisses and whimpers of pleasure. Such a gentleman in the streets, but a real pussy pleaser in the sheets.

Here you are straddling him, dripping down his dick, watching him whimper under you. Unfortunately for you those thighs of yours are starting to burn. “Wooo hold on Zayne” The only thing he’s holding onto is your hips as he plants his feet and pistons up into you. The sudden change in power has you throwing your head back in ecstasy. Your sudden loud moans mingle with the string of foreign words. Zayne slows his pace and pulls you down; examining your face with concern “Is this okay? Did I go too fast?” You’re still trembling on the brink of another orgasm “No Zayne it was perfect keep going I'm close” He would waste no time snaking an arm around you and holding you close as he continued to bully your swollen pussy with those same vicious strokes that continuously massage your g spot.

Rafayel

Type: Speaks back to you in Lemurian

Rafayel is all red ears and shaky breaths yet somehow you always end up pinned underneath him. His lips never leaving your neck as he slid into you so tenderly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close while he gave you long languid strokes. The way you gripped him already had him whimpering with each thrust, but the minute you started to beg him to go faster he thought he’d lost his damn mind. He’d slip his hand between your sweaty bodies, thumbing your clit while pounding your weeping pussy mercilessly. You jerked and squirmed under him as tears pricked your eyes.

When those foreign words reached his ears Rafayel would raise his head meeting your gaze and respond in Lemurian. Knowing that he’s hitting it so good you’ve reverted to your mother tongue would boost his ego immensely. He’d sit up pressing one of your legs down by your head and throwing the other over his shoulder so he can get even deeper — repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. That devilish smirk gracing his lips when he sees your eyes rolling from pleasure. “Raf- ngh! I’m cl- ah!” he’d lean down — folding you like a pretzel — taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving you a sharp nip before whispering “I like when you speak in your mother tongue”

Xavier

Type: Gets turned on even more

Xavier was always insatiable when he got hot and bothered. He knows exactly what to do when it comes to making a mess of you. His goal would always be to have you begging for mercy while simultaneously begging for more. “One more baby just give me one more you can do it” his words were said through gritted teeth as he gave you rough calculated strokes. He would stare into your lust filled eyes as foreign words fell from your kiss swollen lips.

He had no clue what you were saying, but that silky voice of yours only turned him on even more. He gripped the fat of your hips and continued bullying your dripping cunt like he wants to mold the shape of your gummy walls to fit him and him only. Shudders rippling up his spine as your orgasm has your pussy spasming around him making him fall right over the edge with you.

His grip on you would become bruising as thick ropes of his cum filled you up. He’d pull out slowly watching his seed drip out of you. Just when you think you’re going to get a chance to catch your breath Xavier has you bent over the couch stretching you on his cock again. “Keep talking to me like that” he’d say breathless trailing wet kisses wherever his lips could reach.

Sylus

Type: Talks to you in the same language

It should be known by now that Sylus is a polyglot because he refuses to hire an interpreter for his business. He has the patience of a saint when it comes to prepping you. So when he has you pinned under him squirming and shaking from your second orgasm it’s not a surprise when foreign words roll off your tongue draped in pure bliss.

“You’re divine” He says slipping into your sopping cunt, audibly groaning as he sinks every inch into your welcoming heat. Once he bottoms out inside you he has to take deep breaths to stop himself from cumming too quick. His thumbs lovingly stroke your waist as he starts slowing moving. He’d already have you overstimulated so it didn’t take long before your third orgasm crashed over you.

His grip is turning harsh as he talks you through your third — his hips snapping into you at an even pace making your high last even longer. His breath is hot and choppy next to your ear; he’s trembling just as much as you. Sylus would have you so drunk on him that you didn’t even notice the entire time he was talking you through your orgasm he was speaking in the same language you were rambling in. You’d try your best to run, telling Sylus it’s too much. He’d hold you in place, singing your praises in your language as he added his fingers to the mix. Light spanking straight on your puffy clit had you practically screaming. His thrusts become sloppy right before spilling into you. Heavy ropes of cum painting your insides as Sylus holds you close whispering what feels like poetry into your ear.

Caleb

Type: Makes you repeat yourself over and over

Caleb could never get enough of you. The way his hands roamed from your boobs, to your hips, down to your thighs and slowly but surely making their way back to your waist. Your mind already going blank from the multiple orgasms he’d snatched from you. His thrusts are deep and slow “I could stay like this forever” he’d whimper as your cunt squeezed him mercilessly.

He perked up when those breathy foreign words dripped from your lips like honey. You pressed a hand against his stomach, covered in both your juices and his cum, whining for a quick break. Caleb has no idea what you’re saying, but the way you squirmed and whined under him only made his desire grow.

One moment you’re clawing at his back and next you’re flat on your stomach being pressed into the mattress. “Say it again” his breath is hot against your ear, but his tone has the heat in your core reigniting with a passion. His hand slipping under you and propping your chin up so he can hear you clearly as you ramble in your native language. He’d slip two of his long fingers into your mouth when you try to stifle a moan by biting your lip “Again” he’d demand. He licked and sucked on your neck while you drooled from both sets of lips, eyes rolling as he bullied his cock into you until you were whimpering uncontrollably; barely forming words. “Keep talking” Caleb really couldn’t get enough of you especially now.

[vivwritesfics]

"My Girlfriend Made It"

Its simple, really. Lando is wearing something his girlfriend made for him. (more of a blurb, rly)

In recent times, Lando Norris had become somewhat of a fashion guy on the grid. He dressed well, at the very least (looked absolutely smashing at the most).

But today was different.

Lando normally pulled off nice jeans and some kind of sweater-y type thing. But not today. The nice jeans were still there, he wore his usual necklace and sunglasses.

But his jumper.

What the fuck was his jumper?

Well, everybody knew what his jumper was. It was his helmet design on another medium. On a wooly, fuzzy medium.

It stayed on his body just long enough to end up on the F1 Instagram account (he had a mental note to ask the admin to tag the brand that had created it, he just hadn't gotten around to it yet), before he changed into his team kit. As nice as his jumper was, he was roasting.

But he laid it on the little sofa in his drivers room with so much care, like he thought it was going to unravel in his hands.

As soon as his new jumper was safely put away, he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it.

my love 💖

YOU WORE IT!

Lando grinned as he typed out his reply. For the first time in a while, the woman he loved couldn't come to the grand prix with him. She was busy, her career was taking off, just as his was.

He was so damn proud of her.

It had taken so long, so many years of hard work. So many nights of her working through her tiredness until her work came sloppy and she started over again after a couple hours nap. Lando was beside her through it all, watching as she grew her brand, grew her business.

lan 🎀💕🎀💕

gonna get the instagram tagged

my love 💖

better talk about the brand in interviews 😤

Before this, Lando had nothing to do with promoting her brand. He did help, taking pictures of her work (the boyfriend on photographer duty, of course), moral support while she posted it. He helped her pick the colours of her work sometimes, and it either ended up gorgeous or fucking hideous.

The Lando jumper (not for sale, just something special she had made for the man she loved), was a labour of love. It took so much time, so much trial and error, but she was so proud of it.

Lando didn't have to wear it. She wasn't forcing him to wear it with the goal of promoting her brand; he was simply wearing it because he loved her, because he loved it.

He knew her text wasn't serious. Her serious texts never had emojis, were more than one sentence, and had punctuation. He didn't have to talk about her crochet and knit brand, but he was going to.

(It was inevitable that he was going to get asked about the jumper. It was bright and loud and it looked fantastic. He was going to get asked about it).

Five words. Five simple words. He'd been talking about the race weekend ahead, about their chances on track. But then those five little words were uttered.

"Tell us about the jumper."

There was a glint in his eye as he leaned in close to the microphone. "My girlfriend made it for me."

But that wasn't it. He kept talking, kept telling the world about her brand. Y/Nknitcro. The brand of Y/Ndoesart. He promoted the shit out of it, promoted the shit out of the little shop she'd had since they met, promoted the shit out of her social medias, promoted the shit for the brand she had ready to drop.

He was so damn proud of her, and he wanted the world to know it.

[mercvry-glow]

staying is harder than leaving

parings. jack abbot x reader

summary. you'll never understand what brings you back to jack abbot, all you know is that you want to stay.

warnings. age gap (jake late 40s reader early 30s), bitter sweet, reader and jack are really bad at feelings, mention/illusions of sex, mentions of smoking and cigarettes, overall just a bit angsty with a soft fulfilling ending, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I'm so sorry this was all I could get out, but I'm pretty happy with it. I'm like the danny mcbride of angst, everything has closure in one way or another and it's always a good feeling at the end. as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 3200+

You didn’t know how you got here.

Lying in the bed of a man you had no business being with. Not really. Not ever.

Jack Abbot wasn’t the kind of man people fell into by accident—he was deliberate, sharp-edged, the type you saw coming and still couldn’t avoid. Older. Hardened by the Army and the ER and everything they took from him. Gruff in the way only someone who’s cared too much and been burned for it could be.

And your boss.

He was supposed to be off-limits. But lines blurred late at night—between empty hospital corridors and frantic hands, between the quiet moments when he looked at you like you were the only thing holding him together.

Maybe it was the sex. Maybe it was the way he let his guard down in fragments only you got to see. Maybe it was the ache in your chest that whispered this was more than just bodies colliding.

But whatever it was, it was getting harder to breathe in his space without losing a part of yourself.

The room was dark, swallowed whole by the blackout curtains. Still, you could feel the hour—it was too early for anything but regret.

Jack was asleep, sprawled on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the blanket barely covering his hips. His back was turned to you, freckled and scarred, every mark a map of a life lived hard.

You’d spent too many nights like this. Drawing constellations across his skin with your fingers, trying to make sense of something that never really did. Pretending he was yours. Pretending you weren’t drowning in the quiet.

But now, with your heart thudding too loud in your ears and the stillness pressing in, reality came creeping.

Your skin prickled with the kind of unease that settled deep—shame curling tight in your throat, dread rising like smoke.

You didn’t belong here. Not in his bed. Not in his life.

And deep down, you knew—he was never going to stop you from leaving. Not because he didn’t care.

But because he didn’t know how to ask you to stay.

It was overwhelming how much you felt for him. How much more you wanted to feel. And the worst part was having nowhere productive to put it.

You were just as much a workaholic as he was—another lifer in the ER, made of pure grit and sleepless nights, proud of the scars you earned under fluorescent lights.

The golden R4 of night shift. Jack’s prodigy, the way Frank had been Robby’s. People used to joke that you were cut from the same cloth as Jack—sarcastic, unflinching, impossible to impress. You’d hated how right they were.

Because somewhere along the way, he stopped being just your mentor.

 And you stopped pretending you didn’t want more.

What you had wasn’t exactly a secret, but it sure as hell wasn’t something, either. At least, not in the daylight.

You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t his anything, besides a damn good doctor. Just someone who knew what to say when he couldn’t talk. Someone who understood the blood-soaked language of trauma. Someone who stayed long after her shift ended because she didn’t want to go home alone.

And it was killing you.

Piece by piece.

Because in the quiet moments like this—before the rest of the world stirred, before the next shift started—you wanted to reach for him. Say something stupid like Don’t let me leave again… Or I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t love you.

But you couldn’t. Because you already knew how Jack operated.

He let you in just far enough and then he shut the door, quiet and clean. Like it had never opened in the first place.

Your eyes burned, your chest heavy with unsaid things.

The same weight it always carried. 

You shifted under the covers, moving slowly, carefully—like if you breathed too loudly, this entire illusion might crack open. Jack didn’t stir. His breathing was steady, slow.

You watched him for a moment longer, memorizing the way his jaw slackened in sleep, the faint scar above his left shoulder blade you never had the nerve to ask about.

He looked peaceful like this. Human.

And that only made it harder.

You slipped out of bed as quietly as you could, bare feet hitting the cold floor, limbs stiff and aching. Every inch of your body protested—tired, sore, reluctant to leave him. 

But your heart was louder.

You bent to collect your clothes off the floor, holding your breath, hoping he wouldn’t wake up. Because if he did—if he so much as whispered your name—

You didn’t trust yourself not to stay.

All you slipped on was a loose t-shirt—his, you realized halfway through pulling it over your head. It hung off one shoulder, collar stretched from too many late nights and maybe a few desperate hands.

You didn’t have it in you to put on the rest.

Just the pair of panties you’d had on hours ago, still faintly wrinkled from where they’d been discarded in the dark.

You needed a cigarette. God, you needed a cigarette.

You weren’t even a regular smoker, not really. But nights like this—mornings like this—you craved one. Not for the nicotine. For the ritual. For something slow and quiet and burning between your fingers to focus on instead of the way your chest felt like it was caving in.

You padded out of the room silently, careful not to step on the floorboard near the dresser that always creaked. The hallway was cold. Sparse. A stark contrast to the warmth of the bed you just left.

Jack’s apartment was neat, lived-in but impersonal. A few books shoved onto the built-in shelf. Stacks of old med journals. A photo of him and Michael on some fishing trip ages ago, both of them sunburnt and squinting and younger than you’d ever seen Jack look.

You bypassed the kitchen, went straight for the balcony. Slid the door open just enough to squeeze through.

The city was still asleep. Pittsburgh before sunrise had a strange, almost sacred hush to it—still full of steel and ghosts.

You leaned your elbows on the railing, the hem of Jack’s shirt fluttering around your thighs in the early morning breeze.

You didn’t even have a cigarette. Just the craving.

The silence. The ache.

You let your eyes slip shut for a second, trying to slow your breathing.

Tried not to think about how badly you wanted this to be something it wasn’t. How stupidly, hopelessly in love you might be with him. And how deeply you hated yourself for it.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, bare legs prickling against the morning chill, teeth gently worrying your bottom lip. The city stretched out below—silent, gray, and endless.

It was terrifying how much you wanted him.

Not just his hands, not just the way he whispered your name when he was too tired to keep up the act. You wanted all the messy, sharp-edged parts of him. The things he buried beneath sarcasm and coffee and barking orders in trauma bay one.

You wanted the man who rolled his eyes at residents but stayed a few hours after his harder shifts ended to check on critical but recovering patients. The man who never flinched in chaos but looked like he might unravel every time you brushed your fingers through his curly hair.

And you hated that he had no idea. Or worse—he did, and chose to ignore it.

Because you weren’t asking for everything. You would’ve settled for something.

Something real. Something honest.

Even just a reason to stay.

You let out a shaky breath and rubbed at your arms, suddenly aware of just how little you were wearing—and how much that shirt still smelled like him. Soap and antiseptic. Jack Abbot in every thread.

You were so lost in your head you didn’t hear the door slide open.

“Thought you were gone.”

His voice was low. Rough with sleep. And somehow still managed to scrape down your spine like he meant it to.

You didn’t turn around right away. Just stared out at the skyline, eyes burning. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

Silence stretched for a beat. Two. You could feel him behind you, the weight of his presence like gravity.

“You didn’t.” He sounded closer now. “You cold?”

You shrugged, not trusting your voice.

Jack stepped beside you, his hand brushing your elbow, the warmth of his skin startling after the chill. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there.

Looking at you like he wasn’t sure what you were doing out here. Like maybe he was afraid to ask.

Like maybe he already knew.

And it would’ve been so easy to say nothing. To go back inside. To pretend.

But pretending was starting to feel like slow suffocation.

The silence stretched, long and taut, like the few inches between your bodies were holding back something massive—unspoken, unbearable.

Your arms stayed crossed over your chest, but your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like it might anchor you. The wind picked up slightly, brushing your hair across your face, but you didn’t move to fix it.

You blinked hard. Once. Twice. But it didn’t stop the way your throat tightened or how your eyes blurred at the edges.

You weren’t even sure why you were crying.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was standing next to someone who could make you feel so much and give you so little in return.

Maybe it was the way he was looking at you now—concern buried beneath the usual guarded expression, like he knew something was wrong and didn’t know how to fix it.

Your chin wobbled, just barely, and you tried to suck in a breath. Swallow it down. Pretend it wasn’t happening. But then your shoulders hitched, and the first quiet sob slipped out before you could stop it.

“Shit,” you muttered, brushing at your face, willing yourself to hold it together. “God, I’m sorry—just—ignore me. It’s fine.”

But Jack didn’t move. Didn’t walk away.

He was still as stone beside you, until he suddenly wasn’t.

You felt it before you saw it—the weight of his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you into the warmth of his chest like he didn’t even think about it. Like it was instinct.

You froze at first, breath caught mid-sob, body stiff. But he didn’t let go.

His other hand came up slowly to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, cradling you gently—like you might shatter if he held you any other way.

“You’re not fine,” he murmured against your temple. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not here.”

You let yourself fold into him then, tears soaking into his shirt—his damn shirt—your hands fisting into the fabric like it might hold you together.

And for a minute, he just held you.

No tension. No boundaries. No pretending.

Just Jack. Warm and quiet and there.

You didn’t know how long he held you.

Long enough for the sobs to taper off into something softer—just a tremble in your chest, the occasional sniff as your face pressed against his collarbone.

Jack hadn’t said anything else. He didn’t need to. His hands had found their way to your back, slow and steady, like he was grounding you the way you’d done for him more times than you could count.

You were the one who finally pulled back. Not far—just enough to see his face.

The early morning light caught the edge of his jaw, the tired lines under his eyes, the hint of wariness there. Always. You could practically hear his thoughts spinning—calculating, retreating.

You could see him closing the door already.

So you asked quietly, breaking the hush between you both: “Do you ever think about what we’re doing?”

It wasn’t accusing. It wasn’t dramatic.

Just honest.

His brow furrowed slightly. His hands didn’t move from your back. “You mean... right now?”

You gave a small, tired laugh. “No. I mean this. Us. What this is.”

Jack was quiet again. But his jaw tightened. That always came first with him—before the words, before the honesty. His body braced like he was expecting a blow.

“I try not to,” he said finally, voice low. Raw. “Because if I do, it scares the hell out of me.”

Your heart stuttered at that.

He looked away, gaze fixed on some point out across the balcony railing. “I’m not good at this,” he added. “I’ve never been. And with you…” His throat bobbed, the muscles in his neck tensing. “It’s not casual. Not for me.”

You stared at him, not sure if you’d heard him right.

“It hasn’t been for a long time,” he said, softer now. “I just didn’t know how to tell you without ruining it.”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Like something in your chest had split open, but not in the way that hurt.

“Jack…” you whispered.

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. And for the first time, he wasn’t guarded.

Wasn’t hiding.

Just a man, standing barefoot on a balcony at five in the morning, holding the only person who had ever made him want to try again.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “But I don’t know how to keep you either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just watched him.

Jack Abbot—brilliant, maddening, insufferably closed-off Jack—was finally cracking open, right in front of you. And not because you pried him apart. Not because you caught him in a weak moment.

Because he chose to.

And God, that scared you. Maybe even more than the silence had.

You swallowed, voice still hoarse from crying. “I wasn’t going to come back after last time.”

Jack blinked. “What?”

You gave a small, sad smile. “After that shift where I got pulled to peds… You didn’t say a word to me for almost 48 hours. Didn’t even look at me unless someone else was around. I told myself I was done.”

Jack ran a hand over his face, guilt flashing across it like a burn. “I remember.”

“I thought maybe I imagined all of it,” you whispered. “Everything between us. That maybe I made it into something it wasn’t just because I wanted it to be.”

His hazel eyes met yours, sharp and searching. “You didn’t imagine it.”

Your chest pulled tight.

“Every time I shut down, every time I pulled away—” He shook his head, jaw clenching. “It wasn’t because I didn’t feel it. It was because I did. Too much.”

That silence came again, but this time it wasn’t as heavy.

You leaned your hip against the railing, arms still folded loosely, the edge of his shirt catching in the breeze. “Then why push me away?”

“Because if I let myself want this…” He exhaled like the words tasted bitter. “If I let myself want you—then it’s real. And if it’s real, it’s not just sex or more shared shifts… Or a warm body in my bed when the world’s too loud. It’s something I could fuck up.”

You stared at him, something raw blooming beneath your ribs.

“You’re not fucking it up,” you said quietly. “But you will if you keep treating me like I’m  something to be afraid of.”

Jack didn’t answer at first. Just looked at you with something unspoken in his eyes—hope or regret or maybe both.

“I don’t know how to be what you deserve,” he said finally. “But I want to try.”

You let the words hang there. Let yourself feel them.

Then, slowly, you reached out—your hand finding his, fingers curling around the calloused warmth of it. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He looked down at your joined hands like it was the first time he’d been touched. Then back at you.

“Then stay,” he said, voice rough. Barely a whisper. “Just… stay.”

He didn’t say another word.

Just looked at you—eyes tired, earnest, open in a way you’d almost forgotten he could be. And then he laced his fingers fully with yours, squeezing gently like a silent promise.

Then, without fanfare, he turned and led you back inside.

The balcony door slid shut behind you, sealing out the cool morning air and the hum of the waking city. Everything inside was still—soft shadows spilling across the floor, quiet warmth clinging to the apartment walls like it had soaked into the bones of the place.

Jack didn’t let go of your hand. Not even when you passed through the living room. Not when your bare feet padded across the hardwood. Not when the bedroom door came into view.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t speak.

He just brought you to the bed—unmade, sheets rumpled, still heavy with the weight of what had happened between you hours before.

But this time, he didn’t pull you down onto it like he usually would.

This time, he turned to face you fully, and with the same careful touch he used when someone flatlined under his hands, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m not good at a lot of things,” he murmured, voice so low it barely carried in the stillness. “But I’ll be better. If you let me.”

You nodded, throat thick, and he bent to press a kiss to your forehead—tender, reverent. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for anything. That just was.

Then he gently guided you down with him, one arm curled around your waist as he pulled the covers over both of you.

There was no urgency. No edge. Just the press of his body behind yours, solid and warm and present.

His hand rested at your hip, not possessive, just there. His breathing evened out slowly, and after a while, so did yours.

You didn’t say anything else.

You didn’t have to.

Jack’s breath was warm against the back of your neck, steady now, like the storm had passed through him and left something quieter in its wake.

You shifted just enough to turn toward him, your nose brushing his chest. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, sleep tugging at the edges of both of you, but neither quite ready to let go.

You watched each other in that stillness. No shields. No walls. Just two people, bruised in all the same places, finally giving in.

His hand came up to your cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath your eye, as if to wipe away what your tears had left behind. You leaned into the touch without thinking, heart slow and aching.

Then, slowly—like he was asking permission with every breath—he kissed you.

Soft at first. Barely there. A whisper of a promise pressed to your lips.

Then deeper. Warmer. Like he was pouring every word he hadn’t said into the shape of your mouth. It wasn’t hungry or hurried. It didn’t ask for anything more.

It just was.

When he finally pulled back, you were still close enough to feel the words rumble against his chest.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, and you aren’t either.”

The last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered closed was the faintest trace of sunrise creeping through the edge of the blackout curtains—soft, golden light spilling into the room like forgiveness.

And with his arms around you, breath synced with yours, you let it pull you under.

For once, you didn’t fight it.

You just stayed.

mercvry-glow 2025

[chromehoney]

Hey really like your writing and I was wondering if could do more smoke and stack black!fem!curvy/plusize!reader. I do think this will go well with the nerdy/girl next door or the independent baddie type of reader. But you make her personality and lifestyle whatever you want.

aweee thank youu!!! and ofcccc , this is a little rushed since i just wanted to get atleast one request done today so excuse errors!!!

You was tired. Tired of them twins—Smoke and Stack—playing in your face like they didn’t want you. Like they ain’t watch your ass in every room, talk about “that damn dress,” whisper in your ear at family functions, make you cream off one look. They’d tease, flirt, touch your thigh in the truck, but never make a real move. And the second you put a little distance? Act like they owned you.

So tonight, you said fuck it.

Your thick ass was outside at one of your friends parties in a strapless bodycon that gripped every roll and dip like sin itself. Soft pink, and made to make a man stutter. You had on lashes that batted without tryin’, nails long and wicked, diamond studs shining through your wild curly hair as you laughed with your girls. You posted a story before you left the house, of a picture you took of your body in your long vertical body mirror, the dress was thin so the picture got the outlines of your tits and your nipples were poking out, and the picture also showed a lil’ hip. You weren’t playin’ shy no more.

That was until your phone buzzed in your purse.

SMOKE: Bring yo’ ass home.

STACK: Before we come find you.

Your heart jumped.

You swallowed thick. Laughed a little too hard, trying to play it off—until you caught sight of him. Trey. One of Smoke and Stack’s old running buddies. Standing across the bar like he ain’t have a damn drink, arms crossed, eyes on you. No smile. Just watchin’. Close enough to move if needed. That’s when you knew. They had eyes. Ears. Everywhere . Shit, they probably knew what color your panties were before you left the house.

You snatched your keys. Whispered to your girls, “I gotta go. Emergency.” They looked confused, but you didn’t stop to explain. Just shuffled fast in those heels, heart pounding, thighs rubbing, heat blooming between them before you even made it to your car. The house was dark as hell when your car pulled up.

But the porch light was on.

They was waiting. Smoke leaning against the railing, Stack sitting back in the chair beside him, both passing a fat joint between calloused fingers. Lazy, country, smug as hell. They wore black tees that clung to muscle, jeans sitting low, boots tapping against the wood.

You stepped out the car slow.

Their eyes dragged down your body like rough hands. That damn dress clung to your ass like it was made to sin. Stack’s jaw clenched. Smoke exhaled smoke through his nose, eyes low and hot. “Didn’t we say bring yo’ ass home?” Stack muttered, voice thick like molasses and thunder.

“She was tryna show out,” Smoke said, barely glancing at his brother, like he couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Look at her. Lil’ dress tight as hell. Like she want somebody to rip it off.”

“You mad?” you asked, head cocked, lips pursed—trying to keep your bratty edge, even while your thighs pressed tight. “No,” Stack stood up, slow and towering, licking his lips. “We done bein’ mad.” “We done playin’, too,” Smoke added. You ain’t get another word out before you were pushed back against the front door, that joint flicked into the grass.

Four hands. Rough, greedy, mean.

Smoke grabbed your chin and made you look up. “You think you grown, huh? Think you can tease us? Walk around in that lil’ dress and not get fucked like we hate you for it?”

Stack was already behind you, hand fisting the hem of that tight fabric. “You made us chase you. Made us watch you postin’ pics like you single.” “I am—” His hand cracked across your ass. “Say it again.”You whimpered. “I ain’t!…” “Damn right,” Smoke growled, dragging his tongue down your cleavage. “You ours. Say it.”

“Y-Yours—”

And then they was on you. Everywhere. Clothes ripped, dress yanked, lips bitten, thighs pinned wide against the door. You were lifted, filled, devoured. One held your wrists while the other fucked you deeper than breaths. Their mouths left marks on your tits, your throat, your soul. Each thrust came with a growl, a curse, a whisper about how they should’ve claimed you sooner. You cried and came, then cried some more—smeared and swollen, your lip gloss gone and your sass unraveling like lace.

They fucked you like they hated you. But kissed you like they owned you. And when it was over—your body limp and slick in their arms, breath shallow—Smoke played with your curls as he fixed his mouth to speak. “We done playin’, baby.

Stack kissed your neck, slow and possessive. “Time to settle the fuck down.“ You blinked up at them. Mascara running. Cheeks flushed. And all you could do was nod. Because deep down… You knew you weren’t going nowhere ever again.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers!

btw , i got alllll yalls requests done! i’m surprised but i did it. so imma drop em in bulk , another one should be coming out either later on today to tomorrow .. depending on how im feeling!! after they all drop imma give myself a few daysss to rest from writing before i start a new fic.. ‘m thinking maybe annie x fem reader ??? andddd there’s also gone be a new series comin’ out so stay tuned for that.

[jks1uv]

𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 ; re 4 remake leon kennedy | one-shot |

summary: you think leon is an angel sent from heaven just for you, he believes it’s the other way around.

pairing: gf!fem!reader x bf!re4remake!leon kennedy.

trope: established relationship.

genre: fluff + romance + angst (if you squint).

warnings‼️: crude language + suggestive (they make-out).

word count: 810.

random disclaimerrr: devs = gods. inspired by an ai-generated tiktok audio of leon’s voice saying “you seem uncomfortable. do i make you nervous, baby?” TONGUE SHAKING EMOTE 😛😍😝 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

you’re a perspicacious woman, sensitive to other people’s energy.

your type in men and standards of living and romance are things you don’t won’t compromise upon.

because of your cautious nature, you’ve dodged some bullets. whether they be in potential friends or potential romantic relationships with men.

others call that picky but to you, it’s just liking what you like.

for the first time in a long time, the devs are on your side.

he approached you with the charm of an awkward yet intriguing stranger. he cracked a dad joke that made the corners of your lips quirk up just a bit and when he asked, ‘tough crowd?’, he’d won you over.

you gave him a chance and he took it.

he’s different you thought.

he’s tall; 5’11, a little over 6 feet with combat boots on and has soft, dirty blonde strands of silk for hair. his eyes remind you a cool glacier, the icy blue a stark contrast to his sandy, warm toned skin.

and his biceps, goddamn.

the sight of his arms and back, clothed or not leaves you breathless.

but it’s his smirk that makes you weak. it makes you giddy inside like a schoolgirl because it’s just for you.

he’s so sweet, so considerate of you.

you want to go get some food? okay, he can eat. he’ll be there to take you and pay, his excuse being ‘a gentleman never lets a lady pay on a date.’.

got a flat tire? no worries! he knows a thing or two (many, actually) about cars. free of charge, except maybe a kiss or two.

he’s also such a gentleman.

he’s always there to open any and every door for you, always pulls out a chair, always waits for you to sit down before sitting down.

he never raises his voice at you, always a gentle tone and soft-spoken; even in arguments which happens to be a rare occurrence.

when you’re wrong, he calls you out on it without having to fight. he’ll graciously accept his fault and will silently vow to never do it again, and he fulfills it.

he buys you flowers invariably. Including “just because” flowers!

being showered with affection everyday has a tendency for it to get old, you say that’s for superficial people.

you never get tired of leon’s attention because it’s he never gets tired of you.

your friends are impressed, with you and him.

“where the fuck did you find him?!”

“how is he so well-behaved?”

“it’s about damn time you got a man!”

it was that last comment that made you evaluate your relationship.

how did you find someone so perfect?

leon answers that with ease. “you’re you and i’m me.”

you snort. “what does that mean?”

he looks at you. “i get to be the best version of myself because you’re yourself around me.”

you’re taken aback.

the sofa you’re occupying turns into a soft cloud and you’re floating in the sky.

they’re words, so simple to him. you believe in the concept of being with someone on your level, but you learn so much from him.

in terms of emotional maturity and growth, he’s taught you things school and socializing hasn’t.

he’s a cop, a government official who has a beyond well paying job. he’s been awarded with a medal for fucks sake.

you think a man of such stature would be with a woman of equal ability but he denies that notion.

“it’s always been you.” he murmurs.

his hands find your hips and they squeeze affectionately. he gently lifts you into his lap and you smile as he noses your throat.

leon presses a kiss to your jaw, lips and temple.

“i really, really like you.” you whisper.

the “L word” will take some time to say but leon knows it’s what he feels for you.

“i really, really like you too.” his voice liquid honey and you find yourself wanting to drink it all.

you kiss him like it’ll be the last time.

your heart sounds like thunder in your ears. your hands delicately hold his face and he kisses you back with equal fervor.

his body is between your knees and you’re in his lap.

his hands slide up and down your thighs, feeling the goosebumps that prick your skin.

you pull away for air and he plants soft kisses down your neck, your head tips back in dizziness.

your lips tingle from the pleasant assault and your hands are on his shoulders, your fingernails pressing down on the muscle.

he presses one last kiss to your collarbone and you feel warm, quick breaths hit your neck.

“angel.” he mutters against your lips.

“that’s new.” you manage to slip out between your stuttering breaths.

“it’s true.” he wittily replies.

you’re bashful under his heavy gaze but it’s shining with adoration for you.

[twilightau]

LOVE VIRUS; L.DH

synopsis — after a fateful encounter with a mysterious resident, you decide to follow his example and became a nurse, just to get the chance to see him again. romance, fate-like moments, you expected a lot from your first meeting after many years... just to find out he is the most insufferable jerk!

genres — first love au, co-workers-to-lovers, doctor au

pairing — lee donghyuck x fem!reader

warnings — language, mentions of death, incorrect medical descriptions, accidentally attempted suicide, sharp objects, medical setting

word count — 7,6k

[ ♡ previous part. ] — [ ♡ next part. ]

Nobody liked the ending of things. Everyone liked beginning something believing or hoping it would help them reach a specific place. Still, that certainty stops once you get the spot you only dreamt about.

Endings were never your think. Everyone liked beginnings, it meant starting on a dream, creating hope, believing in a certain goal. But it all halts it's fairytale-like meaning when you don't know what to begin with.

High school ended in less than eight days, and you were wasting time with your girlfriends in the streets of Seoul, none of you with any ambitions for the future. All you could think of was which bars to sneak into and how to convince a tired convenience store employee on midnight duty to give you a pack of cigarettes for cheaper.

Uncertainty scared you, but it was so damn frustrating to find a career path that suited you. You weren’t the smartest in class, you hated numbers, you were far from the most athletic, and frankly speaking, you hated studying in general. No one was going to accept a student with a bad rep anyway, even though most of the bad doings were done by your friends, you were just merely a bystander.

But what will you become if you cannot find the right path in time?

These wandering thoughts and ‘what ifs' were eating away at your sanity. Your drunk friend waved at you, signing you to another night of drinking all your insecurities away. You smiled at her, about to join the group when you heard a loud clatter behind you. A small elder who was collecting cartons onto his little cart fell to the ground, his frame getting smaller with each bathed breath you took. 

You didn't know how you crossed the road in seconds. Your heart was still racing while you asked the elder if he was alright. You could still hear the ringing in your ear while you told him to follow your breathing pattern. He tried to grasp for something inside the cart, you leaped forward to find his bag hanging on the handle of the cart. But it was too late, the man was already out cold on the ground.

If what you felt before was anxiety, you are now in full worry. “Sir, can you hear me? Please answer me if you can?” You heard his breathing but it started to sound more labored by the second. You searched his bag for any indication but found two unfamiliar types of medicine. You were not a pre-med student and stood frozen at the realization that you did not know how to help this elder.

“Someone help! This man collapsed on the ground!” You yelled into the empty streets of Seoul at twilight. Everyone was busy zombie-ing themselves to a restaurant or club to relieve stress, the working class could not afford to save another person but themselves. You kept shouting for help, feeling the man’s pulse weakening. The sight was making your heartache.

“Are you alright?” You heard from your left, you nodded before taking the outstretched hand without looking, pulling the person down with you to observe the elder. He didn’t seem to mind, immediately getting to work. “Okay, what happened?” You told him how you found him and how long you have stayed and watched his condition.

The stranger starts looking around, grabbing the elder’s bag and rummaging through his things as if looking for specific items. It is the first time you look at the stranger, and you realize it is a handsome stranger. 

The points of his curly brown hair are slightly darker, soaked in sweat as if he came running. His nose had a soft round tip and his lips were upturned, a wide cupid’s bow engraved in his upper lip. You almost start counting the moles on his face before you realize what he might be looking for.

“A-are you looking for these?” Your outstretched hands contain the two unknown tubes of medicine. The stranger looks relieved and nods. He opens the cap and you realize it is a needle instead of a pod of pills. He stabs it into the leg of the elder with a force that shocks you, but his smile reassures you ever so slightly.

“Can you call an ambulance? The number is on that utility pole, I think–” He looks at the medication bottle for a second, “Mister Hwang is going to be just fine, don’t worry.” You nod, but your hands still tremble, the adrenaline leaving your body. The stranger holds you still, “You did well. Mister Hwang is going to be okay thanks to you.” He gave you a warm smile and patted your head encouragingly. 

When the ambulance arrived, the stranger took over the situation entirely. “Hello, my name is Lee Donghyuck. Please go to Neo-Seoul Medical Center, I’m a 2nd-year resident there.” The paramedic nodded and Haechan hopped onto the vehicle behind the stretcher. You watched as the back doors closed and the car drove away, the whole scene leaving you in awe.

The words he had spoken to you were still replaying in your mind, slowly woven into your heart like a design into a sweater that cannot be removed. For the first time in your life, you did not screw something up, you helped save a human and you succeeded. Haechan and the ambulance were long gone by now, but it was almost like the trail it left behind was highlighted in gold; you had found your career path in life thanks to him.

♡

Neo-Seoul Medical Center was one of the most prestigious university hospitals in all of South Korea. Standing in front of a hospital to start your career was unimaginable for you five years ago. And if it depended on your GPA back then, you’d have never been able to start a medical career at all. It helped that you had good study buddies who helped you with the selection exams as well as teachers who truly saw your good qualities behind all the natural clumsiness you radiated.

You smiled at the building once more before Chenle called your name, telling you to hurry up before you got late for your introduction week. He was one of the few close friends you made during nursing school. He was similar in the way he always went beyond for the people he cared for, but unlike you, he doesn’t always act on his emotions.

Your introduction group consists of two other rookie nurses: Ningning and Sion. You weren’t familiar with the two, but it wasn’t unknown that Yizhou was the top student during your years in nursing school. 

The receptionist pointed your group towards the eleventh floor where a head nurse would appoint you each to a department.

Once the elevator door opened, you were met by an administrative nurse who told you to wait a bit. The LED screen above the reception showed that there were several surgeries being performed right now. Your eyes widened at a familiar name between them.

Lead surgeon – Lee Donghyuck – General Surgery  00:02:10:37

He has not left this hospital despite all these years. A small smile creeps up your face. Ever since you decided to study nursing, you had secretly wondered if you’d ever get to work with him. The image of the two of you rushing to help patients always helped you ground yourself while preparing for another practical exam. 

A familiar mop of dark brown curls passed your daydreaming state and you were quick to react. His scent, his hair, his soft features, and his moles; it was just like you remember. You start to realize that he hasn’t moved, your hands unbeknownst to you holding onto the sleeve of his dark blue scrubs. He looks at you with confusion, about to speak but you beat him to it, almost in a hurry to tell him everything you wanted to him all these years before you lose your courage.

“Dr. Donghyuck, I– I’m so glad to see you again. Thanks to your help, I was able to see the path before me and worked hard for the past 5 years to get here. I am so happy to be able to enter the same hospital as you and look up to you as–” He holds up a hand, making you stop mid-sentence. He raises a brow and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. 

“Listen, I don’t have time for this right now.” He looks at your badge and then your fellow rookie nurses behind you. “You are the new rookie?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes before continuing, “Okay. Listen up, you guys, too. Do not ask stupid questions that you could have studied beforehand, do not waste doctor’s time, and –,” he looked straight at you, “Do not talk to me unless necessary. I’ve got better things to do.” You let go of his sleeve, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment and anger. Who the hell does this jerk think he is?

“Seems the rookies have met our fellow Donghyuck” A female voice states, you look to your left to find a woman in purple scrubs next to your group. “Hello rookies, my name is Karina Yu. I’m the head nurse of the emergency department and your temporary mentor while you do the rotations. Now get out your little notepads, write down everything I’m telling you, and make sure to ask if something is unclear. The emergency department isn’t a place that goes slow and steady, if you notice something you must be fast on your feet and react quickly. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Nurse Karina is fine, by the way.” She smiled kindly before it dropped and she started to walk and talk like it was a military drill. 

♡

“Okay, this is our weekly schedule board. We have it digitally but since the emergency department is about always being on the move, it would be too troublesome to have someone look it up every seven minutes. I added some ID pictures so you guys can easily distinguish which surgeon and doctor is who.

This is Lee Mark, he is a cardiac surgeon who often handles emergency cases since he just recently switched to CS from GS. The cardiology department is on the eighth floor, but you will find him in the doctor’s room of our department more often. If you have any questions, go to him and he will answer them in detail for you.

This fellow is Lee Donghyuck, he is from general surgery and the main surgeon you will work with here. Liu Yangyang is also a fellow GS specialist and the other surgeon you will meet the most often. Both the general surgery specialists are quite strict and meticulous in their work and it shows in the way that they will hold you accountable for any mistake you make. Remember, this is not nursing school anymore, you passed your exam: now it is real.

“Yes, earlier you mentioned we will start rotations in the ER. Do all four of us start in the ER?” You ask, trying not to get too embarrassed by your little stutter.

“No, from the spreadsheet I received only nurse Yizhou and Y/N will start in the ER. Nurse Chenle will assist Dr. Lee Mark in cardiology and Nurse Sion will join neurology and assist Dr. Qian Kun until the further rotation. The four of you will rotate around cardiology, neurology, and emergency as you have chosen these preferences. Of course, if in any case, those three departments end up not befitting your best qualities, you can apply for any of the other departments you want to try out. After your introductory period, you can decide which department you want to join.” The four of you nod at Karina’s words. 

“The surgeons in our team seem to be young, do we not have any senior doctors in our team on site?” Ningning asks. Unlike the way you asked your question, Yizhou remains cool and focused, her hands writing down everything she hears while her eyes are trained on everything Karina points out.

“Good question, we do have young surgeons because they are exceptionally good and adaptive to the always-changing situations in the ER. Do not let their age fool you, Mark has already finished his fellowship and is only a humble step away from his next promotion. Haechan and Yangyang are both in their last stretches as well and have gained enough trust from the Chief of General Surgery dr. Kim Doyoung to work independently on ER cases while our emergency surgeon Dr. Lee Taeyong is on leave.”

♡

The soft melody of a random R&B song plays in the living room while you clean the fog of your mirror. You look at your tired reflection, but muster up the energy to smile back at yourself. As much as today went by fairly peacefully, you can’t shake off the unfortunate encounter with Dr. Donghyuck. Was five years enough time to change an entire personality, or did your young and naive self paint him in a light he was never meant to be seen in?

“Y/N, where did you put the remote? I swear you never place it back at our designated spot!” Winter complains, already in the doorway of your shared bathroom to give you an earful about designated spots for shared items. But every word she planned to say dies down when she sees your face.

“Y/N? Is something wrong? Didn’t your first day go well?” She takes your hand and leads you to the couch, two cups of warm tea already on the coffee table. “What happened?” She asks after you haven’t answered her first question.

“It’s nothing. Just some nerves” You try to shrug it off, but your roommate keeps staring at you with suspicion. 

“Babe, as a third-year nurse, I have already honed the ability to sense lies whenever I ask my patients about medication. I don’t want to play nurse when I’m at home as well. So spill, what is upsetting little spring sunshine?” You crack a small smile at the nickname; your overexcitement on the first day of moving in made the apartment owner laugh, she said a little spring sunshine will move in with the resident winter princess. Since then, Winter and you have started to call each other those nicknames to become more comfortable with each other as roommates and friends. 

“Remember why I joined nursing school in the first place?” You asked, looking down at your takeout and poking in it with your fork. “Yeah, you fell in love with a resident and wanted to become a nurse so you could work beside him,” Winter answered breezily, slurping a long strand of noodle loudly as she looked for you to continue. 

“Don’t make it sound like I’m doing all this over a crush! I truly got inspired to get into this work field!”

“Was anything I said false though?” You didn’t answer. “Point proven.”

"Anyway!" You try to continue the subject so the two of you won’t go down that tangent. “I met him today and he became a completely different person. I’m not saying I expected him to be 100% the same, but it is kind of sad that I couldn’t find traces of the guy who inspired me in him anymore.” Winter hums, putting the plastic fork to her lips.

“Hold up, you met him today? If you were in intro group four…and you start rotation in the ER…” Minjeong taps the crease between her brows, trying to piece the strings of information together. After a few moments of silence, she gasps at the realization.

“Your first love is Lee Donghyuck isn’t it?” You nod, the burdened expression on your roommate’s face unsettles you. “You look at me like I made a big mistake, is he in a relationship or something?”

“No,” You felt relieved for some stupid reason. “But Donghyuck isn’t exactly the type of guy I imagined you being into. I thought you meant Mark Lee when you first talked about your crush.”

“What’s wrong with Donghyuck?”

“I want to say it’s a rumor, but I saw it firsthand once with a rookie nurse a few years ago. A nurse quit after just a week because Donghyuck gave him a hard time. Be perfect or he will lecture you until you’re about to hand in your resignation letter.” You pale at your roommate’s words, deeply regretting every course of action you took today, including entering the hospital. “But I’m sure it’s just a facade, so don’t lose hope yet!” She tries to cheer you up, but it is already too late. You have dug your own grave.

♡

As if the gods wanted to mess with you for a bit, you were assigned to assist Donghyuck’s patients. To say your first week went bad was an understatement. Karina was right when she said Donghyuck has a low tolerance for questions he gets annoyed at anything relatively quickly.

On your second day shadowing him, you noticed that he had long legs. Legs that do not wait for you and your cart to keep up. He gave you a side-eye when you eventually arrived at the right room, you also got lost because he didn’t wait up.

(“If this were an emergency alarm, the patient might have already died. Keep your head in the game, dreamer.” He mockingly taps his writing clipboard against your cart before turning around and smiling brightly at his patients. You feel like you were fuming from the ears at his act.)

On your fourth day in, you discovered a little hiding area where you could take a break without Donghyuck throwing mean remarks at you. You figured, if he can’t find you, he can’t talk bad about you.

The little box of cookies you found in a drawer was already half gone once you heard two people enter the room, a small curtain separating you from them. 

“Dude, I think that Nurse Y/N might have a crush on you!” Dr. Liu said with excitement. It has been a while since romance blossomed for his friend and the littlest indication that it might happen again made him happy. 

Donghyuck raised his brow, “Who?”, and Yangyang’s smile drowned away. He doesn’t even know your name? “Nurse Y/N, she is – dude?" Donghyuck shakes his head. “For real? The nurse who has been assisting you for the past four days?” 

“Oh, the dreamer. I doubt she’d have a crush on me.” Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face, but your delusion might have caught a bit of a somber tone in his voice.

“Besides, the chances of something happening between me and her is 0.00001%. Any other rookie might even be better than her.” Lee Donghyuck has proven once again that he is hard to empathize with.

(“Have you seen my chocobi cookies, by the way? I was planning on eating them but I couldn’t find them in my snack drawer.”)

You finished his nasty cookies with no regrets. 

Your fifth day came around and you were doing your rounds without Donghyuck, the doctor was yet to return from a four-hour surgery and thus you ended up doing the rounds with Mark. 

Although Mark was a bit too much of a talker, it was a nice change of pace compared to the GS specialist who criticized your every move. 

“You just have to look through the words,” Mark said after he finally made you share your worries with him. The two of you already arrived at the third room for the current check-up round.

“I’d rather not look straight into his eyes. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t have made it past day one, dr. Lee” You slide open the door and greet the patients warmly. In the room were four patients from a traffic accident that happened on your second day. Because it happened late at night, Mark was already scheduled for a long surgery for pediatrics, causing Donghyuck to do back-to-back surgeries on these four patients. 

Minnie, a high school girl, greeted the two of you with a timid smile, her eyes lingered longer on Mark before meeting yours again.

“Dr. Donghyuck is currently occupied, so Dr. Lee Mark over here is guiding me today.” You explained to the girl, the feeling that she might have a crush on Donghyuck was unbelievable but also kind of cute.

“She has been waiting to thank him since yesterday evening.” Riku, a college student, commented, earning a glare from the girl which caused him to laugh. You hum while prepping Mrs. Choi for a blood sample. After you finish filling two small tubes for the tests, she signals you to come closer.

“Dr. Donghyuck allowed her boyfriend to visit her yesterday, even though visiting hours were already over. The academy hours these days cause students to finish their studies at late hours.” You look back at Minnie, noticing a singular rose in a tiny vase next to a small teddy bear on her nightstand. The scene reminds you of a sweet youth drama.

“How is your appetite, Mrs. Choi? I noticed you didn’t eat much the last few days, if you want, I can alternate a few things on your menu plan to help get your appetite back?” The older woman softly shakes her head. “No need, the doctor gave me some stomach medicine yesterday. I feel much better now.”

Although you added a small comment about Mrs. Choi’s appetite into your nurse log before you clocked out for the evening, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to take the note as seriously as he did. Writing up medicine for patients always required a lot more paperwork, and your seniors in nursing always recommended trying to minimize the prescriptions doctors had to make. 

“I’m glad it is working out, Mrs. Choi. Let me know if you need me to adjust anything, alright?” The lady smiled before turning to Mark. “The other doctor and nurse Y/N make such an interesting duo, don’t you think? They remind me of my first love.” You were already halfway through the room to check on the last patient, the comment made you stop in your tracks a second too long. Mark laughs, “What was your first love like Mrs. Choi? I wonder how Donghyuck and Y/N compare to it.”

You try to focus on the teenager’s stats, Jisoo is also seemingly intrigued by what Mrs. Choi has to say about her first love and late husband.

“We were like opposites. Chan was always driven by his ambitions, he never knew when to stop and enjoy the slow and steadiness of the world. After we met, he used to tell me how I re-taught him how to live life.” Mrs. Choi’s gaze was fixed on the window, but you knew that she was also holding back tears, it was evident in the way she spoke about her late husband. 

You finish up Jisoo’s check-up before returning to Mrs. Choi’s bedside, squatting down and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “He sounds like a love worth spending a lifetime with, Mrs. Choi.” Her gaze turns to you and you can see the glossiness of her eyes. “Thank you.” She whispers before lying down again, Mark and you bid the other patients goodbye before leaving the room.

“You handled that situation well, nurse Y/N,” Mark says after a beat of silence. You give him a sad smile, “She lost so much in the past few days, dr. Lee. If I can lighten that pain for even a moment, I will.”

“You live up to that speech dr. Nakamoto gave on your second day, huh?” You smile, thinking back at the random visit of the pediatrician. He was looking for a specific person (you later figured that person to be Mark) but got thrust into giving the rookie nurses a motivational speech by nurse Jaemin.

(“I don’t think I’m in any position to give a speech, dr. Na.” Yuta eyed the nurses with an awkward laugh, making Jaemin, the ER doctor, challenge him further. “These nurses will rotate into your department soon, anyway. Besides, I doubt you’d come all the way down from the tenth floor to disturb us in our busiest hours, right Dr. Nakamoto?”)

Doctors treat illnesses, nurses heal patients.

Although he probably said those words without much thought behind them, you found new meaning behind those words. Sure, ever since working with Donghyuck, many of your rather superficial motivations disappeared into thin air. But Dr. Nakamoto’s words were a good reminder that Donghyuck wasn’t your only reason. 

It’s patients like Mrs. Choi, those who don’t only suffer bodily injury or illness, but also have a wound to the heart that needs healing. The surgical scars will eventually fade, but without genuine and continued support and care, a patient might carry painful memories for a long time. To you, soothing their hearts for even a moment was a reward worthy of suffering through the nursing program, and even Dr. Donghyuck’s never-ending remarks.

♡

The taste of Winter’s cooking was one you could never quite get enough of, the girl was always in her element in the kitchen and it was evident in her food. Tonight you were also accompanied by Karina. Although you already knew Winter had invited a friend over, it didn’t quite dawn upon you that the nurse friend she mentioned from time to time was going to be the head nurse of your department. The awkwardness from your greetings earlier still lingers ever so slightly in the back of your head, but you try to pay it no mind. It did help that none of you talked about work, rather giggling away with every sip of wine as you talked about your college adventures.

“You know, I think you will do well in the ER, Y/N. If you can handle someone as cold as Donghyuck, I don’t doubt that even the most enraged Karen will get to you.” Karina says in between hiccups. Winter is already leaning on her arm, slowly drifting off with occasional mumbles while Karina keeps rambling on about random thoughts she has. 

You weren’t a heavy drinker, but luckily Winter had opted for wine (the two women had already finished a few shots of soju before you came home) which you were able to handle.

“I think Donghyuck truly has a stick up his ass like he knows the ER is heavily understaffed and yet he is driving any nurse he sees away.” Karina huffs, another large gulp of red wine. 

“It’s one thing to feel entitled because you’re a good doctor, but it’s another to assume every nurse to be at that level from the start, right Y/N?” You try to pry the wine glass away from her hands, but she downs the entire glass before you can.

“Karina, are you going to be okay?” You watch as she stands up and points her finger at the decorative succulent on your dining table. “This plant is dying, it’s withering away.” It was a fake plant.

“I will call a cab for you, Karina. Where do you live?” The woman seems to acknowledge the time and her condition, already stumbling into your hallway to grab her shoes. You follow behind her with her belongings. She laughs a little too loud at your questions and points upstairs. “I’m alright, Y/N. I’m your upstairs neighbor!” She chirps happily as she spreads her arms in the air before blacking out. Great.

The trip is anything but easy: the elevator decides to take everyone else to their respective floors before arriving at the sixth floor, and of course, Karina keeps wiggling in your hold while the other residents keep side-eyeing you in your pajamas.

Since she didn’t quite tell you which unit she lived in, you had to walk past each front door like a creep with Karina’s arms nearly killing your neck. None of the unit numbers 601-604 had her surname on it. You were praying that you didn’t have to go all the way down the hall to unit 610 before you finally read her name underneath unit number 605, right next to Lee Donghyuck’s name. 

You froze, trying to process what this meant, but Karina had already woken up and was loudly banging on the front door of unit 605. You were torn between leaving her here, but she didn’t quite look sober enough to stand steadily.

The door opens after a few loud bangs from Karina, an annoyed – nothing new there – Donghyuck opens the door. His hair was damp and he was wearing grey sweats and a black shirt, a towel around his neck, and black-framed glasses adorning his face – definitely new. It takes everything in you to not admit he looks like a cute nerd in those glasses.

He was about to hurl a mean comment. At this point, you are pro at recognizing this. Donghyuck stops when his eyes settle on you. He raises a brow, and you only reply to his wordless questions with a sheepish smile.

“Your girlfriend had dinner over at our place, sorry. I put some hangover medicine in the pocket of her jacket for her to take in the morning. See you tomorrow, Dr. Lee!” And you ran away, accidentally pushing Karina into Donghyuck’s arms, but you weren’t going to stay there a second longer than needed.

Even though you thought you were pretty sure that you didn’t like Donghyuck anymore, the new information that he lived upstairs with his girlfriend still left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

♡

You were transferring your notes into the nurse logs when Karina entered your little cubicle. “Hey Y/N, are you busy?” You shake your head, moving to the side so the head nurse can comfortably stand in your little workspace.

“Normally I wouldn’t talk about personal affairs during working hours, but I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was upset at my boyfriend and when Winter said the two of you were going to stay at home and just casually drink, I couldn’t help but ask to join. I needed some company for a bit.” She starts to explain, and you start to notice that drunk Karina and sober Karina aren’t much different. 

The scary image of head nurse Karina fades away as you watch her ramble, animatedly making her points with her facial expressions and hands. You smile at the sight, realizing the subtle cuteness of Karina’s true character. “It’s okay, nurse Karina. We all have ups and downs in relationships.” Karina shyly nods, “I also have a little request to make.” You let her continue. 

“Please don’t tell our colleagues about Donghyuck and I living together, it’s embarrassing.” Although you were confused as to why it would be embarrassing, you promised her you wouldn’t tell a soul. She gives you a grateful smile before her pager goes off. Before you turn back fully to focus on your logs again, Karina calls your name. “You can just call me Karina when we are alone. I think we are way past the formalities after what happened.” 

Karina disappears behind the doors and your polite smile falters slightly. You wonder why Winter and Mark didn’t warn you about the relationship between Karina and Donghyuck, feeling stupid that you were so open about your admiration for the man in front of people who knew he was already off the market. 

It wasn’t like you were full-on pursuing him, but it does hurt to know that his type and you were so far off, evidently marking that 0.00001% to be true. Karina was extremely pretty, smart, and good at her job. Sure, she was a rambler and loud drunk, but she easily carried herself in confidence.

A soft cough pulls you back from your thoughts. Donghyuck leans against the wall, handing you his clipboard. “I saw you were filling out the logs, can you upload this chart to Riku’s profile?” You wordlessly take the papers and start typing, expecting him to leave after he says what he needs, but you don’t hear any footsteps. Before you can ask, he starts speaking again. 

“She’s my cousin.” His words were rushed and Maeda Riku’s chart had already taken most of your attention, making the only sound coming out of your mouth a confused ‘huh?’.

“Karina, she is my cousin. I’m not dating anyone. That’s what I wanted to tell you yesterday before you ran off.” If someone told you you would see an awkward Donghyuck less than two weeks into the job, you wouldn’t believe them. The man had a sharp tongue and – just like his cousin – carried himself with certainty, attitude, and incredible skills that steadily established his dominance in the department. But for some unknown reason, he was avoiding eye contact and fumbling with something in his pockets in front of you. 

“Oh.” 

“I gave her the hangover cure, it helped.” He added after way too many seconds, still fumbling with his white coat pocket. You give him a weak smile, not knowing how to act in this strange situation. The air was not tense like it usually was, but it was far from comfortable.

“I got you the same one.” His hands were too fast, but the bottle on your desk and his empty pockets prove that he had been fumbling with the hangover medicine all this time. 

“Thank you…” The act of kindness (?) made you speechless. 

“You were reaching for your head a few times while doing rounds. It’s disturbing my work and the patients. If you can’t handle alcohol, don’t drink.” And the Lee Donghyuck you knew has ruined the moment again.

“I don’t think I deserve scolding when your cousin ended up like that.” Your remark earned a half-hearted scoff from him. You hated the way your heart started beating like your younger self again.

“Just drink it and get ready to join me for your OR testing.” 

♡

The biting winter air felt like tiny pricks against your exposed skin, but you remained seated on the cold wooden bench while hugging your bottle of water tightly. Your OR testing didn’t go wrong, but it didn’t go smoothly either. 

It wasn’t necessarily what Donghyuck said, but it was the way that he said those words to you in a room filled with your peers and other colleagues. He was complaining about how handling different tools wasn’t just about speed, but also about precision, how you were too hasty and could cause dangerous accidents. How he wouldn’t tolerate it if it were to happen in his OR and how you weren’t going in there anywhere soon.

It hurts that just when you finished painting him as an awful person, he started to make you doubt him again, causing his words to twist as painfully as they were the first few days as his assisting nurse. 

You weren’t a big fan of crying, it felt like losing control over your feelings, but you couldn’t help it when you’re so deep into your self-pity party. 

“Nurse Y/N?” The voice of an uncertain Minnie makes you look up, staring into the eyes of an equally teary-eyed teenage girl. You try to wipe away your tears in a hurry to attend to the girl, but she just hands you a handkerchief with a sympathetic smile.

“You know, crying does make everything a bit better, don’t you think?” She asks through a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. You breathe in some more air, feeling better despite being spotted by one of your patients. The two of you don’t say much at first, sitting in a comfortable silence while staring at the few white dots in your pitch-black sky. 

“Boys are stupid.” She suddenly says, catching you off guard. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“They just are, I think girls cry more often because of them than any other reason.” She explains nonchalantly, making you grin at your words.

“Can’t disagree on that.” You mumble.

After a while, you returned inside to finish one last welfare round before switching out with the night shift nurses. You greet Karina as you pass the nurse station, she holds you back by your arm. “I had a word with Donghyuck about what happened during testing, are you alright?” Admittedly, you were still a bit mad at his choice of actions, but you couldn’t blame him for correcting you on something you did wrong. 

“I will get over it, but thank you for looking out for me.” You grabbed your necessities and walked through the dimmed hospital corridors, making your way quietly through the resting areas of your patients. Most were already asleep, some mumbled soft words while you gently checked their stats and some even bid you a good night before turning around to sleep. 

Once you made your way into room 4, you expected Minnie to have returned when you opened your curtain, but her bed was still empty. You frown, remembering how she mentioned how cold it was and that she should quickly return and sleep the night away. 

After a few confused moments at her bedside, you notice the small but important details surrounding her little sleeping space. 

The rose she received days ago bore no petals and the little teddy bear was stuffed inside the small trash can. The conversation from before replays in your mind, and you take out the handkerchief she had handed you. 

You recognize the handkerchief was part of a goodie bag for a small promotion the hospital held once in a while. The words 2023 on the embroidery make you speed walk towards the storage room where older items were kept for PR. 

The storage room wasn’t a huge mess, but it was evident that someone had roughly opened the stored tissue papers and used a few. Your heart ached, thinking how the young girl must have cried in here, feeling lonely and betrayed.

Without thinking, you put out your pager and send out a notification for a missing patient, running towards the terrace where you last saw her. You kept calling her name, heart hammering in your chest as different thoughts spun in your mind. 

Different nurses and medical staff on the floor start spreading and calling out for Minnie, everyone equally worried for the young teenage girl.

You end up on the eighth floor, briefly informing Mark before rushing off into another hallway, feeling more and more anxious with each passing second. You hear a click from nearby and rush towards the sounds, opening the door to a balcony wordlessly as you freeze, Minnie’s hands on the railing and a devastating look in her eyes.

“Minnie–”

"Don't!" Her voice shakes as she puts one leg over the railing. “I don’t want to hear about how young I am, how much life I have to live. What is the use if no one will love me?”

“Why would no one love you?” You ask softly, still stuck in place, afraid that one wrong move will make her do something irreversible. 

“Because I’m permanently broken. Because I have a scar that will never heal. Because I will have to return to the hospital every few years.” Minnie wasn’t directly looking at you, she was staring down the levels, the tears in her eyes dropping down eight floors.

“But it will heal, Minnie. Both your scar and your life.” You carefully take a step, noticing how she doesn’t flinch at your movement. “Right now, you are in a very tough battle, wanting to look the prettiest for a boy you like, don’t you?” She is quiet.

“And having him see you in a hospital gown, having him not see the best version of you, it hurts, doesn’t it?” She closes her eyes, whispering a small and shaky ‘yes’, but you heard her.

“I used to think like that, too. I used to think that once I meet the love of my life, I have to be perfect already so that he will fall in love with me.” Minnie doesn’t react, even though you are certain she knows you’re closing your distance slowly.

“But I found out, quite recently, that I don’t want to be perfect to be loved. I want him to see me at my weakest, and see how I fight my way through my weaknesses. Don’t you want to show him that you are a fighter, too?” Minnie looks up at you, although she doesn’t say it, her eyes tell you everything you need to know.

“Thank you, Minnie. Give me your hand and I’ll help you down slowly, is that alright?” She nods, giving you a hand before turning around. The action makes her foot slip and she slides off the railing with a scream. You lunge forward, holding her hands as tight as you can. 

“It’s okay, trust me, I will not let go.” You grunt, trying your best to lift her, but she is too heavy for you to pull up alone. “Somebody, help!” You shout out in between reassuring words for Minnie. You feel her trying to climb up, causing her grip on yours to loosen. You shout for help again, begging the skies to help this little girl. You were fighting a rough battle with exhaustion, using every fiber in your being to keep the hold on the girl’s hands. 

You start to lose grip, you shout out for help one more time before you feel a warm body against you, arms surrounding yours and holding onto Minnie’s forearms.

“I got you” Donghyuck speaks to you softly before raising his voice for Minnie to hear. “Minnie, I will count to three, and Nurse Y/N, and I will pull you up. I need you to use your legs to climb up, okay? Everything is alright. We got you.”

You finally look at him and he nods counting to three before you gather all your remaining strength to lift Minnie. The three of you land on the ground of the balcony, most of the landing softened by Donghyuck embracing you both. 

Minnie holds onto you tightly, crying into your chest as she keeps mumbling apologies. You close your eyes to keep your tears in, soothing the girl with strokes through her hair. “Everything will be fine from now on, Minnie. You are a fighter, remember? You will show everyone that you are a fighter, okay?” Donghyuck stands up, typing on his pager before the medical staff comes through the door with a wheelchair, taking the shocked teenager from your arms. 

You are still shaken from everything that happened in the past 10 minutes, your legs and arms have completely given up after all the adrenaline wore out. Donghyuck wordlessly helps you on your feet. “Let’s go, my shift ended as well. I’m taking us home.” His voice was soft again, just like when he told you that he got you in your most fearful moment. 

He tugs you forward, but you don’t budge causing him to shoot you a questioning expression. “I can’t walk anymore.”

You didn’t have any ulterior motives when you said those words, but getting a piggyback home from Donghyuck did feel nice.

It still felt odd, you were sure a week ago that you hated his guts, but now and then, he made your heart flutter like five years ago. The thoughts confused you, making you unsure about how you should act around the man. Avoiding him wasn’t an option for now, although you knew your rotation in the emergency department was coming to an end soon. 

“You have potential.” He suddenly speaks as your apartment complex comes into sight. “You aren’t as fast as Nurse Ningning or as knowledgeable as Nurse Chenle, but you notice the small things about patients.”

“I doubt small things matter as much as accuracy and knowledge in this work field, Dr. Lee.” You mumble into his shoulder.

“You might think so, but I know for a fact that if you didn’t notice those things, we might have lost a lovely person today.” It was hard to find the right words to say, so you stayed quiet and let him continue.

“Your attentiveness saved a life, Y/N. Don’t ever think any less of yourself as a nurse.” Normally, you’d assume he is saying this to mock you, but even without seeing his face, you know he said those words sincerely. 

“Thank you for finding me, Dr. Lee.” You say after he steps out of the elevator on the fifth floor. “It’s hard to miss you when you still shout like an endangered teen girl.” Your heart skips a beat.

“So you remember me?” You don’t know why you’re holding your breath, but you are.

“I didn’t at first, but after all the hints and pieces I got from why you joined the nursing program, together with what happened today, I just followed the string of information and realized that young girl was you.”

He has stopped in front of your apartment and you try to hurry off his back before your roommate sees you, but he doesn’t let you go as smoothly as you thought. Your roommate seemed to have sensed you because the door swung open. Winter looks at you, your arms around his neck, and then Donghyuck himself. Before she can open her mouth to say anything, you rip yourself from Donghyuck’s hold – ignoring the immediate absence of his warmth – and wave him goodbye, slamming the door in his face and shushing Winter.

“Girl, you act fast.” Minjeong throws you a smug grin. 

“Please don’t even start, Winter” Unfortunately for you, her grin only widens.

The two of you continue to argue, unbeknownst to you, Donghyuck was still outside, listening to your little arguments with a chuckle. He stops himself from mumbling how amusing your reaction was, the word ‘cute’ almost escaping his lips. His footsteps start echoing again after your voices fade away, heading home in high need of some back pain-relieving patches.

any like, reblog, comment and feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be on the taglist of this fic, let me know through an ask or comment on this work ♡

[bunny-jpeg]

the devil in red and his bride

charles leclerc prompt: “you’re stuck with me, my love”

tags: smut/pwp, possessive behavior, mob au, mob boss!charles, forced marriage, dub-con, virgin!reader, slow & passionate sex, wolff!reader, au typical violence, dark themes/dark fic, references to the devil

a/n: a lot happening with this. read with caution, and if you liked it. let me know!

charles knew what he wanted, and went for it. he wasn't the type of to ask for permission or play within the established rules of the organization. it felt like every day someone was trying to put a knife in his back. so when toto wolff's boys brought charles' right hand man back beaten and bruised.

it was only fair that charles retaliated - it was such a shame someone as beautiful as you got caught in the crossfire.

this was supposed to be your wedding day. except you were meant to be married to george, your father's confidant over the years. but instead, in a near empty church you were walked down the aisle by a man with a broken nose and a cast on his arm.

he seemed fine given that his other hand carried a gun pressed into your back, "you owe the family at least this." the blond said, his eyes never looked to you, but you knew his gaze was cold and calculated, "your brother's little boys did enough damage already." and you swallowed, held the bouquet in your hands a little tighter like a security blanket.

you ended up at the alter, across from you was the charming man himself. the devil taken a human form. with piercing green eyes and a smile that was meant to make you feel comfortable, but rather you were scared. this was the man you were to marry. you looked over to your future husband's right hand and you swallowed.

he was not coming to your rescue, neither was kimi or george, or even your father.

the devil had a name, charles leclerc, and he looked to his long-time friend. he smiled at him, "thank you for finding her, max. and thank you for not getting your revenge in other ways."

max briefly looked to you then back to charles, "i'd rather not have that british snob break my nose again. i'd rather see his future wife married off." then turned away and headed to the pew. this was your wedding.

and it took everything in your power not to crumble right there. it went by in a blur, you were certain that parts were missed especially in a catholic wedding, like your vows. instead charles said his, and took you by the back of the neck. he smiled, feeling accomplished as he kissed you on the lips. you wanted to hit him, but you were certain that max still had that gun on hand and from rumors said. he was a damn good shot.

-

you weren't in that dress for long. in a private room with the door locked, charles' broad hands grazed across your back, his lips on the nape of your neck. you whimpered.

"shh, it's alright. i know, i know. it's a big change for you. russell was promised to you, a sign from your father for good behavior. but... your family has crossed such a line for me." his voice made your stomach twist in knots. he placed a hand over your stomach, "a ring on your finger and my son in your womb, send you back to your father."

you swallowed, "charles, please." your knees quivered and you winced when the dress was taken off of you. you covered your breasts with your hands but he stopped you.

"don't make me tie you up on our wedding night." he kissed the side of your neck once more, "i bet they're looking for you right now. sweeping through all of monaco to find the wolff's daughter. not even close." he chuckled lightly, "even if they knew we were in italy, it would take far too long to find you."

you felt scared. your father never trained you to be a fighter, he said it wasn't in you to be that kind of person. you were meant to be a wife, and you guessed that what was what you became.

he guided you to bed and you laid out in the underwear you arrived to him in. mis-matched and old. but charles didn't care. he took off his red tie and thought for a moment to bind you with the silk. but you two had an entire honeymoon for that. for now, he wanted to feel his wife. the woman he had the pleasure to marry.

from a wolff to a leclerc. quite the change, but you'd adapt.

once he was nude, you eyed his figure. toned and tanned, he looked beautiful without the heaviness of the expensive clothes he wore. he however looked dangerous, especially when you caught sight of the stallion tattoo on his arm.

your gaze met his as he pressed you further into the bed. you were about to lose your virginity to your swore enemy. the man who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him. he got between your legs and you felt tense as he rubbed his cock up against your entrance.

"if your father saw you now. under me. what did he say, a wolf was better dead than submissive? i remember he said that before he pulled a gun on me." he sighed as he continued to rub up against you, "i've been caused enough trouble. if anything, your father owed me this marriage. it was an olive branch, but your old man is quite stubborn. so he'd never do that, so i simply had to take it for myself."

he leaned in closer and his blunt cockhead nudged against your entrance, "just as you will take me." before he sank into your virgin pussy. your noises were music to his ears.

you covered your mouth, but he pinned your wrists to the bed. he loomed over you, his cock inside of you. but you wrapped your legs around his waist without thinking. this was a sign of submission, and it riled him up.

he moved against you. his pace was particularly rough or fast. it was like he wanted to drink all of you in. he wanted to feel every inch of your pussy as he took you raw. the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him only spurred him on further. but he showed restraint and kept his pace even.

"see, you look better like this." he cooed, "so much better." he wiped the sweat from his forehead, "your father was trying to marry you off to someone in exchange for power. but i picked you, it was an easy choice, but the moment i saw those photos. i knew i had to have you, your father just made it easy." he held onto your wrists a little tighter, "harming one of mine. it would have been easier to cut off my right hand himself." he leaned in to kiss you, but before he did, he said, "but your father is a coward." then pulled you in for a hot searing kiss. your thighs clenched around him as he rocked into you.

the kiss was heated and you felt the pleasure curl in you. an unfamiliar feeling as he thrusted up into you. he hit all the right places and made your entire body tense up at the feeling. this was unlike anything, not even the secret toys in your room.

your eyed fluttered shut and the consent around this entire act for muddled. it felt wrong, it was wrong. but there was a small canary song in the back of your mind that said this felt good and that maybe this was not the worst outcome.

but you were so full of emotions that it was hard to tell. charles continued to thrust up into you. he continued to move against your body with heavy, slow movements. mapping out every inch of your pussy with his cock, your noises got louder and you couldn't fight it any further.

charles made you feel good, in ways that you didn't think another person could. you moaned a little louder and charles only smiled. knowing full well that he was making you feel that good.

"see." he said. he spoke like the devil, tempting you to hell. the hot reds of the family only added to the burn that he fueled. the hatred sowed deep in you was nowhere to be found as he thrusted into you. he kept his gaze on you as he fucked you.

you couldn't find your voice, but the pleasure flowed deep. his words felt distant, and it made your core throb for him. this was unlike anything else, you shared another heated kiss and you moaned into it. this was a total betrayal of you and your family, but yet you succumbed to the pleasure. the promise that you were charles' wife, the bride of the devil.

no one of your family would find you until charles wanted them too. and by then you'll be secured in the marriage to him. not even family war could snap the bond. with a few more strokes of charles' hips you finished around his cock.

he cooed to you softly as you came. the pleasure made you near limp under him. he moved a bit quicker to meet his own climax, and then pulled you in for another heated kiss as he spilled himself inside of you.

he was going to smother any ounce of wolff in you with his own seed. rewrite you just like he rewrote your last name. you were his, now and forever. not even death could keep him away from you.

"mine." he said lowly.

you mumbled, "please, charles."

he chuckled lightly, "you'll learn it in time." he pulled out, his cock shiny with your wetness. he curled himself up around you like vines around a tree. he held you close, your warm cheek against his chest. he rubbed your hair, the most gentle he had been all night.

"your father made you weak." he said, "makes sense. he wouldn't want his own daughter to surpass him." he looked down at you and when you looked to him, he rubbed your face. he asked, "how do you feel about learning how to use a gun?"

"won't i just use it on you?"

charles chuckled lightly, "that is what i like to hear. but, i have a feeling that after our little honeymoon. you'll be more inclined to see things my way. because after all, you’re stuck with me, my love. and i don't believe in divorce."

he held you close once more, your thoughts were swimming. you felt fear, anger, but a small piece of your mind was tempted to see how deep the devil went. and if you'd ever be found <3

[fleurfiles]

can you please write a crazy fanfic where billie is like a fuckboy and she meets reader at a house party in LA and wants her so bad but reader plays hard to get and they end up having sex at hers and billies friend is in the room but billie doesnt gaf ? <3

FOR TONIGHT | b. eilish.

ꨄ︎ this is probably the filthiest thing i’ve ever written. read at your own risk!

house parties were usually never your thing until you met charli.

you had bumped into the pop star in your coffee shop once while running late to work, and somehow the both of you sparked up a conversation when you muttered something (mostly derogatory) about your manager under your breath, earning a laugh from the girl, and ultimately leading to your undying friendship.

ever since the two of you became friends, charli had pulled your buried, most innermost extroverted parts out, dragging you along to house parties and clubs with various famous people— from actors to DJs, you had your fair share of once in a lifetime interactions.

tonight, you currently sat on the floor of your best friend’s room, finishing off the wing of eyeliner that boldly lifted your cat eyed look. you were clad in a lacy spaghetti string top and a pair of short brown leather shorts, a pair of boots that you borrowed from charli waiting for you by her vanity— which she was currently sitting at, finishing off her makeup.

“you ready for this party tonight?” she asked you, turning around in her rolley chair to offer you a wiggle of her eyebrows, excitement glossing over her eyes, “i’m so excited, we haven’t been out in ages.”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged honestly, standing up and lazily dragging yourself to a spot on her king-sized bed, careful not to get any of your makeup on her pure white sheets. “i feel like it’s just another party we’re going to, nothing too special.”

charli turned her attention back to the mirror and applied her blush in gentle but swift movements, a pinky tint beginning to blossom against her cheeks as she called out to her alexa to shuffle her getting ready playlist. when it turned on some of her notorious house music, she bopped from side to side, speaking loudly over the beat, “you’ll have fun tonight, though— it’ll probably be more chill than usual!”

you rolled your eyes, because charli’s chill and your chill were on opposite sides of a spectrum. but you couldn’t even protest because you swore up and down you’d stop being so damn antisocial, and actually try going out again for once, though it made you cringe at the thought of stepping out of your comfort zone.

it didn’t take long for your best friend to finish getting ready, and when the both of you had your bags in hand and empty shot glasses discarded in the sink from your pregame, you strutted out the door and made your way to the uber that waited outside her door. you yanked the car door open and greeted the driver, who was a young-looking man with fierce blue eyeshadow and curly blonde hair. he was sweet and genuine when he said hello back, pulling off into the road and typing the address into the GPS.

anxiety began to bubble in your chest, but not because you were scared— it was mainly because charli wouldn’t let you be a debbie downer and not drink or dance with her tonight. it wasn’t that you weren’t in the mood, but it had been so long that you just felt like you were out of your element.

“i’m fuckin’ pumped!” she hooted from the seat next to you, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small glass of pink liquid, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her when you realized that the liquid was actually pink whitney.

“charli,” you mumbled, mostly out of second hand embarrassment for the poor driver, “did we not just pregame?”

she shook her head as you arrived at the party, insinuating that the shot you both took together wasn’t enough for her. your eyes widened as the car came to a stop— this house was huge.

you didn’t even really know who was throwing the party, just that you were invited, but whoever it was clearly had enough money to spend it on this huge, all black penthouse. cars were lined up and down the driveway and road, ranging from bentleys to ferraris and porches, and your stomach twisted when you saw a couple familiar faces walking in and standing in the lawn with red solo cups in their hands.

charli picked up on your anxiety and rubbed your back as you both thanked the driver and exited the vehicle, “relax a bit, love, we’ve done this before.”

“that isn’t as comforting as you think.” honesty is laced in your voice as charli shrugs at you, hand on the small of your exposed back, leading you inside. the lights were completely off except for a few LEDs here and there. people were all over the place, from corners in the living room to people gambling in the living room, and the secular atmosphere made you tense up a little bit. it had been so long since you had been to one of these functions, and at first, you weren’t sure you were going to survive.

however, about an hour into the night, you had thanked charli a million times over for getting a little liquor in your system. you weren’t drunk, but you were tipsy enough to where every nervous atom in your body told you that being timid was just a suggestion, not a command. you were pretty much all over the place now— cutting up on the dance floor with charli, carrying on with some of your friends— it made every tense moment soften up.

you were dancing and singing loudly to whatever was playing on aux when the beat suddenly switched to more of a synthy sound, and you immediately recognized charli’s voice that was amplified from the speakers above.

“hey billie, you there?”

you thought it was slightly ironic that they were playing her own music at the party, but you just shrugged as you weaved yourself through the thick crowd, making your way over to the drink station.

you were waiting patiently for your drink when you heard a familiar voice behind you, and then someone’s warm skin connecting with your own on your exposed legs. you turned around and met eyes with none other than billie eilish, who was offering you a small grin as she held her red solo cup next to you, swishing the liquid in it around a few times, “didn’t expect to see you here, angel.”

you spun around on your heel, your face just inches away from her own as she took a sip of her drink, still holding eye contact with you over the rim of her cup. the way she looked at you— lowly and dark with her blue eyes sparkling in the sparse light, it made a unfamiliar heat crawl up your neck as you sucked in a breath, “eilish. nice to see you.”

“definitely nice to see you,” billie giggled, irises scanning you intensively as she leaned up against the marble counter next to her, “you look really fucking good.”

“for someone you’ve only met a couple times before this, you’re awfully bold.” you swallowed with a laugh, downing another shot as the alcohol burned your throat, making you let out a quiet cough. you smacked the shot glass against the counter and smirked at billie, “and for the record, i’m not really into the bold type.”

billie titled her head as you started to walk away, though you fully expected her to follow you— and you were right. her footsteps were close behind yours as you muttered apologized throughout the large crowd, finally settling on escaping through a pair of big glass doors, stepping out into the warm california air, perching against the balcony.

the teal eyed girl eventually leaned closer to you, her smirk widening as she took another sip out of her cup, “well, good thing i’m not all that bold, just persistent.”

you roll your eyes, “can’t you just go torture some other girl?”

“only if you admit that you like the attention first.”

although she was annoying, billie lived up to her word that she was extremely persistent with her wits. you ignored her attempt to flirt and reached into your leather handbag, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter. as you grab one and take a thick drag, billie pouts at you, but you shrug off her half-irritated expression. the faint orange glow from the end of your cigarette illuminates against your face, and you turn your head and exhale your smoke when you hear billie speak.

y’know that’s gonna kill you, right?”

a shrug is all you offer to her, letting it be known that her opinion was absolute last on your list of things to consider.

“hope it does,” you speak coolly, “so i can get away from you,” you seethe with obvious annoyance laced within your tone, but it doesn’t make billie stop her advances. she just watches as you smoke, admiring the waning sunset and the chatter of people’s voices muffled over the sound of music playing from inside the house. the silence is comforting until of course, billie breaks it, “okay damn, do you always have an attitude like this?”

“only when people think they can tell me what to do.” your reply backs up the action of you bringing your cig up to your lips to take another puff, almost to prove a clear point to billie, who’s watching you with intense eyes. she shoves her hands into her pockets nonchalantly, “m’kay, miss hard to get— what do i have to do to make you not hate me?”

“probably die.”

“ouch. but you’re not as scary as you think, angel.”

her words piss you off, but mainly because there isn’t much of a false statement within them. you weren’t scary at all, but you were mainly just annoyed and too almost-drunk and cigarette buzzed to give a damn about whatever she was saying. everytime you saw her at a party, it was this— her trying to hit on you, you refusing but in a flirtatious way, and then you went about your business. but there was something enigmatic about her advances now that made your skin tingle, especially when she looked at you with those fucking icy blue eyes.

you finished off your cigarette and threw it on the wooden floor below you, smushing the butt of it with your booted heels, a sigh passing through your swollen lips. billie spoke again, a little more softer this time, but her voice still intense as always.

“why do you play so damn hard to get, y/n?”

the question makes words of honesty roll of your tongue, the feeling of intoxication rolling over you like a small wave as you spoke lowly, “honestly, it’s just fun watching you try this hard.”

billie laughed at that, the sound smooth and sultry, and stepped closer, her body nearly brushing against your own, making your breath hitch slightly in your throat.

“be careful, baby,” she warned, her voice soft, but still weaved with her usual tone of challenge and determination, “i’m not sure you really understand what you’re getting into.”

your eyes locked with hers as she spoke, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how serious she was, yet how stupid she sounded. “wow, billie, i’ll hand it to you— you talk a lot of shit for someone who hasn’t made a single move yet.”

billie’s smile faltered a bit, swooping all her hair to one side of her shoulders as she moved so close to you that you could hear her breathing. she gave you a quick scan with an unclear motive behind her eyes, whispering, “don’t worry, babygirl. i’ll do plenty.”

you scoff, though the lack of distance between you and billie made you anxious now. her skin was touching yours now, and the contact sent ribbons of electricity up and down your spine as you looked up at her. you didn’t even realize that you weren’t breathing until she told you to do so, and embarrassment crawled onto your face when you caught your lost breath.

she had grabbed your waist without a word, her face already so close to yours that it was like you were asking for her to kiss you— so that’s exactly what she did.

she hungrily pressed her lips onto yours, fingers digging so hard into your sides that you were sure she left marks. the kiss was hungry and lustful, your body succumbing to her touch as your hips rocked against her own involuntarily, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

she pulled away with a laugh, “somebody’s a little worked up now, hm?”

before you could respond to her teasing, a loud crash echoed from deeper inside the house, the sound sharp enough to cut through the thick tension in the air. instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder, but billie didn’t loosen her grip on you, her hands still firm on your waist.

“don’t even think about it,” she murmured, her voice low, a warning laced with something a little darker.

“what if someone needs help?” you teased, trying to play it cool despite the heat swirling between you. you were trying to play off the fact that the effect she had on you was now to her knowledge, but your attempts were failed.

billie leaned in closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered next to you, her breath tickling your skin. “oh don’t worry— they’ll be fine. but you? you’re mine for the night.”

you sucked in a breath, her words pulling a spark of something unexpected in your chest as you spoke, “you’re awfully possessive for someone who just met me,” you shot back, though you couldn’t quite ignore the way your heart raced at the thought of going home with her tonight. it didn’t seem like such a bad idea now— it was nothing serious, just a loose hookup with some hot girl from a friend’s party, what ever could go wrong?

billie grinned at your statement, her thumb now tracing small circles on your side, sending shivers down your spine. “maybe, but i’m sure you like it,” she said, her lips brushing against yours lightly, teasingly, as though she was waiting for you to make the next move.

you whined at that. your little ‘hard’ act was over now, and all you wanted was for the little issue that had soaked your underwear to be fixed, and fixed immediately. but you couldn’t let billie know that just yet, so you tilted your head and leaned in, speaking seductively, “and what if i don’t, hm?”

“then i guess I’ll just have to convince you,” billie replied, the smirk on her lips growing nothing but wicked as her hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you in closer.

the words made a sharp feeling of arousal poke inside of you, and before you could process them fully, she kissed you again—fiercer this time, like this was her only shot at you. you didn’t want it to end, really— but she cut it off to whisper in your ear, her nails digging into your soft flesh.

“let’s go, now.”

there was nothing more that you could do to protest. you were hopeless at this point, so you latched your hand onto billie’s as she guided you back inside and through the crowd, pushing past people just to make it known that you were coming with her.

cocky bitch.

you eventually pushed past so many different people that a strong mix of cologne, liquor, and perfume filled your nose. you had made eye contact with charli, who did nothing but give you a wiggle of her eyebrows and a wink when she saw who you were leaving with, which made you even more scared.

as you made your way outside, a fresh wind of air flew against your face, and you felt like anxiety was the only thing pumping through your veins as billie led you to her black porsche, opening the door for you.

“my lady,” she joked as you climbed inside, though really, in this moment, it felt like her saying “my whore,” was more appropriate. here you were— playing hard to get at first, now cooped up in some girl’s car that you barely know after a party, and on the way to her place.

the car ride felt way longer than it actually was, because your mind couldn’t stop racing against your will about what was about to happen to you. you sat in the driveway now, and billie wasn’t speaking, which only made your nerves more amplified as she opened the door for you again, eventually leading you inside.

as soon as she closed the door behind you, she was on you like white on rice. her lips immediately smashed into yours— and it wasn’t sweet, either— it was hard and fast and so very impure. you were moaning into her mouth when she swept you right off of your feet, your legs wrapped around her hips as her back settled against the wall. one of billie’s ringed hands supported your ass as her tongue timidly crossed paths with your own, and soon enough, the only sounds that could be heard without her house were the sounds of heavy breathing and lips smacking.

billie pulled away and your legs detached from her hips because you felt like if you didn’t stand, you were gonna pass out. a whine left you as billie shot you a look of such passion that it almost scared you.

“look at you,” she talked louder now that you two were in private, her tattooed hand coming up to wrap itself around your neck, but lacking a squeeze, “just an hour ago you were so persistent that i leave you alone, but now the only thought in your head is of me fuckin’ you, huh?”

you can’t even respond because you know she’s speaking nothing but the truth. billie doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak, either, she just presses you further against the wall and swipes her lips against your own, backing up and leading you to her bedroom without breaking the kiss, your only guidance being her hand that was firmly pressed against your throat.

billie eventually had you laying back-down on her bed as she sat on top of you, hands roaming all around your exposed skin. you let out helpless moans— you were such a horny mess when you were drunk, but you didn’t care now— all you cared about was making sure billie understand how eager you were for her, how bad you needed her.

she broke the kiss and began to use her right hand to undo the zipper on your shorts, but when it jammed, she let out a thick sigh of annoyance.

“just fuckin’ get rid of it, it’s pissing me off.”

you adhere to her request with quick obedience, taking off your shorts quickly and discarding them by throwing them somewhere around the room. billie offers your neck light kisses before sucking at the bare skin, a moan passing through your lips as she left dark love bites on you.

“b-billie…” you moaned, “please, just…touch me already.”

“oh, i thought you couldn’t stand me.” she teased you, taking off your lacy top, revealing your bare boobs due to you not wearing a bra.

your nipples laid victim to billie’s touch as she sucked on your left one, her thumb and index finger rubbing against your right one, and it took everything in you not to cum right then and there.

the alcohol in your body made every single part of you so sensitive, and you didn’t know how much more you could take when billie left a huge hickey on the skin in between your breasts. she was relentless with her movements, her head now plastered right between your thighs, the tip of her nose meeting with the very tip top of your clit.

billie’s eyes drop to your pretty blue panties that you’re wearing, a noticeable wet spot forming in the crotch of them, making your cheeks feel hot to the touch.

“already so wet for me and i’ve barely even touched you. what a dirty little girl— you wanna be fucked all better by me, hm? someone who you hardly know?”

you don’t let anything out but noise, and billie yanks your underwear down with a swift movement, her head so deeply buried in between your thighs that you can feel her warmth against your sex. billie lets out a cocky gasp when her eyes lay on your pussy, “gosh, you’re dripping, baby.”

“eilish, just t-touch me already,” you stutter out pathetically, and billie can’t hold back anymore, so she listens to your request and fulfills it, fully. her tongue quickly maneuvers itself into your leaking cunt, collecting all your juices like trophies as her thumb comes up to rub your clit. the pleasure makes your skin feel hot and tingly as you arch your back, little moans passing through your lips.

just as things start to get more intense, you hear someone walking around in the living room and call out billie’s name. your eyes widen and you freeze up like a deer in headlights, but billie looks up at you and shrugs, “it’s just zoe.”

“just zoe?” you whisper-yell, “i don’t wanna be caught having sex with you when your friend is here!”

“then don’t get us caught.”

billie says it like it’s simple, and she returns to the task at hand, eating you out like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have. your hands found themselves in her hair, grabbing a handful of it so hard that it was the only thing steadying your body weight.

“you taste s’good, my god.” billie mewls against your sex, “made me work so hard for this pussy, feels like such a reward.”

billie switches out her tongue for two of her fingers now, and she doesn’t care that they’ve still got her rings on them. you both watch as your cunt swallows her digits that pump into you harshly, her silver jewelry now coated with your arousal. she curls her fingertips upwards, hitting a sweet and spongy spot deep within you that makes your hips buck wildly.

you feel your eyes start to shut, but billie gives you a slap to the thigh, forcing you to accept her offer of eye contact that she gives you, “look at me, slut. you wanted this— so you’re gonna watch me fuck you, and if you even make a single noise, i’m not letting you cum. understand that, princess? nod if you do.”

you nod fervently, your lips flattening out as you made sure not to make a single noise. footsteps sounded from outside and a knock was harbored against billie’s bedroom door, “bils? you in there?”

“a little busy right now, zo.” billie called out, still fucking into your pussy harshly with her thick fingers. you felt your orgasm bubble deep within you and you wanted to make a sound so show for it so badly, but it seems like billie picked up on the memo by the way she used her other hand to toy at your swollen clit.

“oh, okay! just wanted to let you know that there’s leftovers in the fridge, and that i’m gonna go ahead and hit the hay. goodnight, love you!” zoe called as her footsteps faded out, and billie yelled back something about how she loved her too and how she’d probably eat the food later.

she then turned her attention back to you, watching as you fell apart because of her hard, quick movements.

“bil…bil…billie, please,” you whined and whimpered and begged for the blue eyed girl, your hips crushing down onto her fingers in a desperate effort to get yourself off, “i’m so close…i’m gonna…gonna cum—“

“hm, i don’t know, should i even let you cum?” billie spoke through a teasing, soft voice, making you whimper at the fact that you may or may not be able to cum, and whatever the answer was it was completely up to her to decide.

you couldn’t take the teasing anymore— you were so damn close, and would pretty much do anything to finish yourself off. you looked down at billie and when you made eye contact with her, you immediately screwed your eyes shut. it was just too much.

but you wanted to reach that sweet point of pleasure so bad, so you whispered in pleasure, “p-please billie, i’ll do anything just…i wanna cum, i wanna cum so bad…”

“only if you ask nicely.”

clearly billie was fucking with you. you had obviously asked pretty nicely the first time, but it wasn’t adequate enough for her, needless to say. she had slowed down her thrusts, making that tight feeling in your tummy subside, and you let out a long whine of complaint at that.

just ask nicely, you thought— and if maybe you did it the right way, even though it chipped at your pride, you’d finally get to cum, the feeling you’d been waiting for for what seemed like hours.

“please, please, please let me cum.”

billie tilted her head to the side cockily, and you already knew there was gonna be something else she was going to force you to do until you could be granted that feeling of release.

“please, who?”

usually you couldn’t be paid to call someone anything other than terms of endearment or their legal name, but in this moment, it felt so effortless as the nickname slipped between your teeth, a small moan pressed behind it.

“p-please, mommy— please just…l-let me…fuck…!”

billie cooed underneath you as she fucked into you relentlessly, that familiar feeling reappearing in your stomach as your cunt fluttered around the girl’s fingers, her other hand busy with rubbing your puffy clit in big, sloppy circles, fueling your orgasm.

“that’s right, make a mess on me, it’s okay.” billie praised, watching you as you came undone on her fingers, a bunch of ‘thank you’s and moans leaving your lips as she fucked you through your orgasm slowly.

you can’t even speak it was so good, and billie gives your clit a couple lazy kisses before gathering your juices up onto her fingertips, placing them in her mouth and looking up at you with hungry eyes.

“taste fucking marvelous, babygirl.” billie giggled, coming up to your level to plant a kiss on your own lips before she stood up off the bed, venturing over to her dresser where she pulled out a thick, purple strap. she slipped her own clothing off and started to slip the strap on, making you gulp nervously when the length was put into perspective.

“y’know,” billie starts as she makes her way back over to her bed, where you were a quivering mess, laying on her plain sheets that were now decorated by your small wet spot beneath you.

“didn’t think you’d be so submissive in bed.”

“i’m not!” you protest, but you start to regret your words when billie slammed into you, the tip of her cock kissing your cervix, making a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure wash over you. it was a mistake to say that in short, billie wasn’t the only one capable of being the boss— and you wish that the statement had never left your mouth.

billie ruts her hips into your own, and her demeanor is nothing but mean. one hand is tugging at your hair, and the other slapping your ass every once and a while— unless her thumb is too busy rolling against your clit that was so sensitive to touch, it borderline hurt.

“talk to me, slut,” billie spoke naughtily, “how’s this feel, hm? my dick slamming into you, your pretty little pussy clenching around me? that feel good?”

“s-s’good, yes, bils!” you yell, completely disregarding the fact that zoe was just a door or two down from billie’s, but you didn’t care anymore. you couldn’t. the way billie was fucking you made it nearly impossible not to scream.

it seemed like her whole demeanor changed because she slowed down a little and placed sloppy kiss all over your cheeks and forehead as she thrusted deeply into you, the imitative cock filling your tight pussy up to the brim. billie lovingly held you now, “i know you wanna cum, princess— it’s okay, cum for me, wanna see your pretty face while you do it, too.”

it’s like she knew before you did, because as soon as the words left her mouth, you felt your second orgasm incoming, making you gasp. it felt much more powerful than the first, and you bucked your hips irregularly as you chanted billie’s name like a broken record, “i’m cumming, bil— mmph! i…i’m…”

“shh, it’s okay, i know it baby…i know how good it feels. tell mommy how good it feels.” billie whispers at you, and you offer her nothing but little whimpers as you came down from your high, still riding her cock slowly to fully finish you off.

when you finally settle down, billie pulls out of you, putting the strap away and returning with a washcloth and water for you. she makes you lay down even though you assure her that you can take care of yourself, wiping away at your pussy and inner thighs. she gives you a kiss and then continues her task, and when she’s finished, she lays beside you and cuddles up to you, skin to skin.

“you did so good, pretty girl. don’t worry, you’re always gonna be my good little girl.”

[bunni-v1]

Aventurine NSFW Headcannons

🍓This took me so long to get done, and I'm not 100% satisfied, but I wanted to get these out. There's so much I left unsaid, and I feel like if I kept going it would never stop. So enjoy the very basics of what I feel Aventurine is like in bed. Smaller posts are coming in the future so I can take time to work on the genshin stuff I have coming, alongside requests I plan on doing a full fic for <3

Tagging: @the-original-skipps (mwah mwah, just for you pookie)

Tw: Mentions of past sexual assault; Aventurine has unhealthy views of sex; Aventurine's past; NSFW; Pretty vanilla ngl; grammar errors

Info: Aventurine x Reader; Angst; Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

MDNI

-Aventurine and sex do not mix well – at least, not at the start. 

-Much like love, he has a very jaded view of sexual intimacy. He was (heavily implied to have been) sexually assaulted by many different unsavory types when he was younger. His body wasn’t his own then, and the sex was brutal and unkind – something he hated.

-As he grew, both in stature and into his title of Aventurine of Strategems, his hatred of sex turned into something different. It was still hatred, he hated the act more than anything in the world most times, but he realized his body was good for something.

-Aventurine was an attractive man, despite his eyes being a less than savory feature to most people. His body was lean and lithe, his clothes and hair perfectly styled and trendy, not to mention the air of mystery he had drew people in like moths to flame. 

-All of it was crafted by his own two hands, of course. He was attractive because he wanted – no, needed to be. So, he made sure he was, of course, no one would do business with him otherwise.

-Pretty as a peacock, you could hardly tell he was once a slave or a dirty Avgin boy.

-He’s pleasantly surprised to find that the body he so hated being born into was a good business tool when he needed it to be.

-People really will do anything to get off, and as much as it disgusted him to do such depraved things, he would do whatever he had to to get what he wanted.

-He’d scrub his skin raw in the shower afterward, trying desperately to get the smell of sex off him. Hoping that if he scratches hard enough the ugly purple bruises will wash away with soap and water. They never do, and they leave him feeling vile until they fade.

-Regardless men, women, monsters – he really didn’t care what he was fucking so long as it got him what he was looking for.

-That’s what sex is to Aventurine, a transaction. He scoffs at the idea of it being anything more than that. Sex was rough and sweaty and all kinds of disgusting, how could anyone derive pleasure from that? You fuck, you cum, you say goodbye. Simple. As. That.

-Ah, but, then again you come along and you just love challenging his worldview don’t you? With your pretty little eyes and your sweet, comforting words. You always make him question himself. It would be annoying if he didn’t love you so damn much.

-Your first time with him is… incredibly unpleasant. It’s not as though he doesn’t account for you or your wants, but there’s a disconnect. He’s too… pliant and yet all too controlling. First times are rarely good, but this felt alien. Like the person you were with was not your beloved Kakavasha, but some strange man taking his place for the night.

-He’s doing things he thinks you want, he’s saying sweet words he’d whispered to hundreds of other partners, it’s all that he thinks you need, what he’s decided in his head that you’d like, rather than something that comes from knowing you.

-He doesn’t ask, he just gives and takes and then it’s over. It’s unfulfilling and empty, leaving you with a dull ache in your chest.

-He doesn’t even offer you or himself aftercare, and you find him scrubbing his skin red in the shower afterward like he was trying to rid himself of any trace of you.

-It makes you feel terrible. Like you’re some whore he’s picked up off the streets and not his long-term partner with whom he’s shared some of the darkest parts of himself.

-You cry into those expensive satin sheets, ruining them with your sniffling. It’s quite the sight for Aventurine to walk back into.

-He expected you to be asleep, or at least resting in some capacity, but crying? His heart sinks as he rushes to your side, then somehow falls further when you tug yourself away from him.

-He’s perceptive enough to realize that he had been the one to put you in such a state, but he didn’t really understand why.

-When he’s able to calm you enough to get you to talk to him, you’re able to explain that you felt so disregarded. There was no connection or love or care from him, did he not feel you were worthy of sharing that in moments of intimacy?

-That makes him sick. Never in a million years would he want to make you feel as though he does not love you, despite previous behaviors. You were his whole world, part of the reason he continued to exist. How could he ever make you feel unworthy of him?

-He nearly spirals there, but your tears are enough to remind him that he is not the one who needs love and reassurance. So, always eager to learn and grow with you, he asks you what you believe sex should be like… and it’s quite different from what he understands.

-You describe it like an extension of yourself. A means of intimacy and trust a level deeper than words and affection can get you. You are vulnerable during sex, you are at your weakest and you are sharing that with the person you love. It’s the most intimate thing you could do with a person, and while it can be fun and it can simply be because it feels good, it can also be because you love the other person so deeply you have no other way to express it.

-Aventurine finds the definition to be rather naive, but you had always been a bleeding heart. (Which he, regardless of if Kakavasha or Aventurine was leading charge, would give anything to protect). Yet… Kakavasha likes it. Kakavasha wants to do that with you, he wants to show you how much he loves you, he wants to hold you even closer and share such sweet nothings with you.

-He tries to toss it out initially because if he thought about it like that he would have to confront himself. Look that trauma in the eyes and acknowledge that, once again, you’d proven him wrong in a way he was annoyingly not expecting.

-But as the days go by and you slowly begin to become physical with him again, he wonders fondly how it would feel. Taking his time with you, he means.

-He couldn’t help but wonder how nice it would be to really feel your skin under his fingers. To kiss every inch of you, to hear you sigh his name like he crafted the heavens with his own two hands. Ah, Kakavasha won again, it seems.

-So he goes to you, like an apologetic puppy, and he apologizes for how terrible he was. How he reflected and regrets it, and he wants to try again and let you take the lead this time. 

-Despite everything, you say yes, and you allow him this second chance to redefine his worldview yet again.

-Aeons it’s life-changing sex. 

-Slow, careful, and all kinds of intimate. He’s still on top because he could not trust even you to be on top. He needed that control. But he listens to what you need, and he finds he’s very good at servicing you. Just as good as he is at spoiling you with his riches.

-You guide him to kiss you deeply, tongues tangling in a tango to a tempo only the two of you could enjoy. You show him how to leave love bites that make his spine tingle. How different parts of your body make you feel different kinds of pleasure. He gets to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, taste your very being on his tongue, and swallow the angelic cries of his name.

-It’s a kind of intimacy and affection he’d never been afforded in his life. A vulnerability he hadn’t expected himself to enjoy, and yet as he sobs into your shoulder at his release, he finds himself wanting more.

-It becomes a problem, really. One taste of it and you have both your sweet Kakavasha and the hardened businessman Aventurine absolutely addicted. In the privacy of his condo, he can lust after you all he wants. You would never deny him the pleasure of freedom, though you would tell him no after the third night in a row for your aching hips. (He will draw you a bath and book you an appointment at the finest spa he can get you into for the next day.)

-In his office, or during a meeting, or talking to the Doctor, however… that’s a problem. He wasn’t supposed to like it that much, but that intimacy had him aching through his expensive slacks. 

-He thinks about it all the time, and he’s taken to locking his office doors and keeping the blinds shut airtight for more than half the day. He hopes no one notices how many bathroom breaks he takes during meetings. He tries his best to forget the boner he popped in front of the esteemed doctor talking about finances.

-You literally have him addicted to being in love with you, it’s quite the conundrum you’ve found yourselves in… but, would you really ever want to change that? He’s very good in bed after all, so it can’t be that bad.

-Aventurine is a switch-leaning top (so sorry Aventio shippers), and I say this only because he does not like relinquishing control. Especially when he’s in such a vulnerable state, especially with his past traumas, he would rather be in charge than trust you and have you hurt him.

-He softens up significantly as time goes on, and he is more willing to allow you to service him how you please, but he never really gives up his control. There’s always a reminder that he has the say-so in what does or does not go.

-That being said he is very giving, without having to be asked he will happily do whatever you need of him. It’s just in his nature to service, those pretty little moans are all the payment he needs.

-I won’t lie and say he isn’t a tease, though. He’s incorrigible, actually. He loves to tease you, be it with his words or his actions, he loves getting you squirming beneath him.

-He’ll mumble against your throat how needy you are for him, how you’re already so worked up and he hasn’t even gotten past your clothes, how cute you are when you’re so needy for him. His fingers will graze you with such feather-light touch you’ll whine at him, and he always coos at you like a needy little thing – as if he isn’t the one tormenting you.

-He’s a fan of edging, which just comes with the territory too. He spends hours of his time building you up to your orgasm, crooking his fingers and swirling his tongue so you’re right there, and then he’ll pull away leaving you crying for more.

-It’s all worth it when he does let you cum, though. The orgasm shaking the very foundation of you, sticky fluids staining yet another pair of satin sheets. 

-That’s not even mentioning his dick, which he is just as talented with. It’s slim, the same shade as the rest of him, with an upward curve that rubs against your g-spot so very well without him having to try.

-It fits so snugly inside, and if you watch closely you can see the effect you have on him as his perfect poker face cracks just a little. He loves to feel you from the inside, it may be one of his favorite things in the world.

-You are warm and squishy and so very accepting of him, conforming to the size and shape of his member like you were made to do so. Like you were made for him and him alone, it’s a deeply romantic thought that he would scoff at if he were in a less hazy mindset.

-He’s rarely rough with you, preferring to show you how much he loves you more softly, though he can be rough upon request.

-Sometimes if you get him jealous enough he’ll be rough on his own accord, but never uncaring or unloving. Even when he has you face down, ass up he makes you feel like the most precious gemstone in the entire world.

-He likes sex slow and long, preferring if it is dragged out across multiple sessions with sweet nothings and gentle care between the breaks. 

-However, he rarely has the free time for such things, and as such he gets very good at making the most of the time that he does have.

-Because of his high sex drive, quickies are common, but they are no less fulfilling than the long sessions he enjoys having. 

-He’s adept at getting you to cum in under five minutes with his fingers, he can do it in two with his tongue thrown in, and that’s usually fast enough for him to quickly get off and get back to what he needs to do.

-Unfortunately, he isn’t the kinkiest guy. He doesn’t like tying up or being tied up, he’s not a fan of power play, roleplaying seems to turn him off (again, not a fan of power play, which a lot of scenarios include this), no hitting or degrading, and pretty much anything that could remotely involve hurting either of you is a no from him.

-He thinks for a while he’s fine with it, and he is willing to try anything once, but it only takes him one time to realize he does not like physical or mental pain. It’s not sexy, it’s traumatizing and he won’t be convinced to try it.

-He does, however, really enjoy you wearing lingerie. Lacy ones dotted with expensive stones are his favorites. Frequently you’ll find a set sent to you in pretty packaging with a little note telling you to ‘enjoy your present.’ Meaning, he wants a picture of you in it ASAP.

-Also a fan of seeing you in his clothes. If he spots you lounging about in his shirt after a long day of work, he’ll be all over you like a helpless puppy.

-Cockwarming you when he works from home is a favorite of his, liking the way you wiggle and squirm as he combs over documents. His poker face really is something impressive, you have no clue how he’s re-read the same sentence ten times as you clench around him again.

-Office sex is unlikely, purely because he doesn’t like you being anywhere near IPC headquarters if he can help it. But if you do stop by for some reason, the likelihood of him bending you over the desk and fucking you raw is about 99%. He does miss you a lot during the day, after all, you can’t shame him for indulging in his favorite treat after so long without it.

-He just truly, deeply loves you. Once he begins to have a healthy relationship with sex and associate it with you rather than the horrors of his past, it’s nothing but loving and delightful. He takes the whole idea that it is an extension of his admiration for you very literally, and showers you in his affections through sex.

[sweetheartbitesb4ck]

part one || this is part two || part three || part four || part five

Simon wakes up late, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Usually- because of his big, strong build- he would get away without getting hungover, but today felt different.

His eyes widen as he remembers the antics of the night before, peering down at the inside of his wrist and the smudged scrawl of numbers. "Fuck..." Ghost gulps, standing up from his messy bed and pulling open the blinds to the mid-day sunshine. Thank goodness it was the weekend.

After a moment of just standing idly, recounting the evening as well as questioning life choices, Simon glances at his phone, turning it on only to see the bombardment of texts and notifications. Most texts were from Soap and Gaz, begging for a follow up on the 'window lassie' but also multiple from his other mates (who Soap had obviously blabbed too about the encounter) pretty much pleading for information and context.

"Shit," He moans, grabbing on a T-shirt and fumbling the blurry number into his contacts. He didn't even know your name, let alone why he was quite so smitten with you. The soldier takes a while typing out and deleting messages, almost feeling panicky over what to send. Christ this girl is making me soft. He thinks, frowning slightly as he hovers over the send button.

'hi'

It had taken him four whole minutes to pluck up the courage just to send two letters. 'hi'.

What the fuck.

You look over at your phone as it buzzes, peering at the notification from an unknown number. You assumed it was the man in the mask- Simon- from the previous night.

'who is this?' you respond, clicking send without a second thought. You raise your eyebrows a little at the immediate response.

'Simon' You read his text out loud, laughing at how eager he must have been to reply so quickly. After adding him to your contacts under the name 'mask man (Simon)' you return to your conversation with the man. You giggle again as you see Ghost typing on and off for at least five minutes, spluttering as he finally sends 'U ok' three letters. No punctuation. Damn.

Simon perches on the end of his mattress, phone clutched firmly in his large hands. He was still texting you, freaking out a bit as he sees the three dots appear. He had that weird feeling in his stomach again... That unfamiliar (unfamiliar to Simon, at least) feeling that must be what other people describe as 'butterflies'. He stares into space, whole body jumping up as the phone pings.

'I'm good thanks'

'You?'

Ghost grins widely as he reads it, palming his face as if to switch back to a grumpy exterior. He couldn't fathom why he was getting so giddy over this girl and was even more surprised that he was this giddy without even drinking anything. (Not counting the night before, of course.)

'good'

You smile at his answer. You felt as if you knew this man you'd never even spoken to properly. Heck, you'd never even seen his face, but still found yourself blushing at the thought of him.

Taking a deep breath, Simon sends another text. Goodness knows how long it took him to write those three deadly words- 'are you free today?' He turns his phone off, tossing it onto the bed and pacing around the room for a minute. It was very cliché and comical, but very unironic.

When the mobile vibrates again, he throws himself across to the phone, heart beating quickly and face red with nerves.

'yeah. wanna get coffee or something?'

Ghost's reaction is the text book definition of a jaw drop, his eyes widening and pulse thumping in his ears. He jolts up again and starts rummaging through his chest of draws for any clothes that were somewhat decent. "I need new clothes, what the fuck is this shit..." He mutters, grimacing at the tatty old jeans and tops with weird and out of date slogans.

Unbeknownst to Simon, you were doing the exact same thing, grabbing out dresses and jeans and T-shirts and jackets, squinting at the old stuff you'd probably had since you were a teenager. You return to your phone, realising you hadn't proposed a time or place for meeting up.

'is 3ish good? The coffee shop along West Street?'

You can't help but feel a buzz of excitement as Simon replies with a thumbs up emoji, your whole face lighting up as you rush back to picking out a nice outfit.

All this for a man I barely know? You think, raising your eyebrows absent-mindedly. Sure. Why the fuck not.

At three, you stand outside the suggested café feeling way more anxious then you had expected to. You glance at your phone every so often, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket and gazing around at passers by trying to pick out your date from the crowds. Date? You thought it was a date, at least.

Simon rushes down the road, stuffing his wallet and phone into the pockets of the cleanest jeans he could find. He tugs on a jacket as he speed walks, also hosting a plain black T-shirt and the same skull printed balaclava as before. He figured he should probably explain the mask... just to ensure you didn't think he was a robber, or something sketchy.

Yet again, his heart starts to pound as he catches sight of you, his cheeks burning beneath the mask. He approaches you with a slower pace, trying to seem nonchalant. "Hi," He gasps, doubling over to catch his breath. Simon was usually a very fit man, what with his work, but the anticipation seemed to make him weaker.

"Hello," You respond, smiling warmly at the man. Still in that mask, huh? You think, raising your eyebrows and looking down as he gasps for air. "Are... you okay?" Stuttering slightly, you reach out, hand hovering over Simon's back unsure weather to pat it or hold him up or at least help him in some way.

"Sorry-" He grunts, standing back up and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I ran," He gushes, trying to justify his panting.

"Oh..?" You nod, a bit confused. "Should we go in?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. Ghost smiles with his eyes and nods, tentatively placing a large hand on your back as you walk inside together.

here's the part two, hope you enjoyed it!

I'll do part three if you guys want! (I'll probs do it anyways bc what can I say, I'm kinda invested)

@scaleniusrm

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Sleeping Beauty - Jake & Tsu'tey

Part of the Sleeping Beauty Series (all stand-alone)

inspo

Pairing: Jake Sully/Fem!Reader/Tsu'tey

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors dni, somnophilia, bi!Jake, dom!Tsu'tey, unprotected p in v (wrap it, you skxawngs), biting, swearing, surprise threesome, creative use of Na'vi words to avoid saying Y/n, oral (male receive), reader gets Eiffel-towered, reader is a bit of a masochist, creampie, Tsu'tey!lives au, Tsu'tey is olo'eyktan and Jake is just Toruk Makto.

A/n: Surpriiiiise! I feel like this one isn't as long as the last but I was almost desperate to push this out. I hope it's okay.

Also, I'm not gonna keep writing a 'Na'vi Words Used' section 🙃 Google is free, and this provides a browser that helps you quickly type in a word to find out what it means. Enjoy!

Jake knew from the very beginning that you had some sort of infatuation with Tsu'tey, but you would rather die than admit it. 

After all, you were with Jake, and in Na'vi terms you were mated for life. In human terms, you were married, and it made Jake extremely happy knowing that no matter what shape or form the two of you were in, you loved him no matter what and he loved you. When he decided that he wanted to pass through the Eye of Eywa and permanently transfer his subconscious into his avatar's body, you fully supported his decision. It helped that you had an avatar of your own, so you could still be a part of his world and occasionally return to yours if need be. You've only ever wanted him to be happy, and you always loved him, in and out of that damn wheelchair.

He knew you loved him, more than anything, but he catches the way you look at the clan's olo'eyktan from time to time. He knew you would never act on it. What you felt was just interest, nothing more, because you only wanted Jake at the end of the day. But then again, Jake was also just as curious as you, and if you weren't going to do anything about it, he was going to be the one to make the first step.

"Isn't she a doll? I mean, she almost is in the literal sense. A silent, inanimate object and pliable for me to play with however I want."

Tsu'tey didn't say anything in response, too caught up in watching the way Jake's large cock pushed into your squelching heat, the sound filling the kelku. The fact your avatar's body reacted according to Jake's touch without you possessing it had the Na'vi man completely transfixed from where he crouched near your head, a barely caged primal desire swimming in his yellow eyes. Watching how your lower lips, covered in your slick, spread, and pucker to stretch and accommodate Jake's unnatural size (thank you, labcoats), Tsu'tey's tail flicks with contained interest that was definitely questioning every rational thought.

He knows he shouldn't be here... but he had been thinking about this for months and not even Eywa could persuade him to look the other way after Toruk Makto was adamant about how both you and him wanted Tsu'tey.

Jake wasn't deterred by Tsu'tey's silence, knowing that if the olo'eyktan didn't want to be here, he wouldn't have followed Jake here after being invited. The two of them had gone out hunting that day and Jake thought it would be the perfect time to bring up his little... proposition.

Focusing back on the unconscious body beneath him, Jake grabs your avatar's hips with both hands and continues to gradually thrust inside of your pussy. Your body was already so tight and naturally became aroused and slicked up by the time Jake was done stretching you with his fingers. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to fuck you like an animal to his own completion when you look this enticing. Nothing was boring about your sex life, but with Tsu'tey's intimidating gaze watching his every move as Jake pumped in and out of your tight heat, something really hot and angry began to stir deep in Sully's stomach.

He lets out a punctured grunt, a wave of adrenaline coursing through him from the excitement of it all, a grin slowly plastering over his lips, glancing back up at Tsu'tey, "She lets me do this a ton, you know. She loves it. You would have never guessed she was such a minx, huh?"

Tsu'tey's ears twitch with that same intrigue, pupils further blown wide with barely contained desire, trying to ignore the growing strain of his loincloth. 

Jake's grin falters for a moment when your pussy grips him tight, a groan spilling from his lips and falling open in a silent gasp as his eyebrows pinch together in pleasure. He struggles to find his words again, huffing between sentences as everything else drains to his groin, "She said she was going to link up around this time. 'Should be waking up right... about..."

The first thing that moved was your avatar's eyebrows, scrunched closely together as your eyelashes fluttered. Tsu'tey watches as a soft flush rises up your body, reaching your face just as you open your eyes, pupils blown out of proportion as a soft, quiet whimper is pulled from your lungs. Your hands instinctively fly up to graze and scratch at Jake's tight chest and tummy when you feel that familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm.

"Oh, fuuuuck..." you moan out, tilting your head back as you close your eyes once more.

A deep, low chuckle reverberates from Jake's throat while staring down at you, slowing his thrusts until he's only grinding, the friction of his pelvis against your clit sending your growing moans to ricochet throughout the marui, "Hey, baby. Glad you could join us."

"Us?" You breathlessly question, managing to catch the choice of words. Looking around, you suddenly realize you and your husband are not alone. Craning your neck up, you find a familiar Na'vi crouching above your head, your eyes widening, "Tsu'tey?"

His eyes, so hard and intimidating like the rest of his physique, always piercing into your soul... had a lilt of something else that now pierced something deep in your abdomen and caused your warm and wet walls to flutter around Jake's cock. While Jake softly curses under his breath, biting his lip to stay quiet, Tsu'tey's eyes never leave yours even as his hand brushes over his straining loincloth to try and relieve the pressure, "Sevin..."

Any initial horror or embarrassment you might have felt at the thought of another man seeing you naked and being properly fucked started to melt and drift out of your mind the moment your eyes glanced down to the olo'eyktan's crotch. You now shamelessly watch and even feel a small ping of pride as Tsu'tey's clothed cock unexpectedly jumps under your attention.

Feeling some level of satisfaction now that you understood what was going on, you quickly replaced your shock with a smug smile as your eyes turned up to Jake, "You really wanted to spice things up that badly, huh?"

The grinding immediately halted and you whine loudly from the loss of friction. Jake smirks down at you, strong hands gripping the flesh underneath your knees, "Maybe I was just tired of watching you drool after Tsu'tey without doing anything about it."

"Like you acted any better," you found yourself snarling back in the midst of your sexual frustration.

Tsu'tey surprised even himself when he scoffed in amusement, attracting the attention of the couple in front of him. With both sets of "demon" eyes on him, the Na'vi man felt a warmth swirling deep in his gut, his own eyes slowly traveling down to the spot where yours and Jake's bodies connected, almost as if he appreciated the view. 

The expression on the olo'eyktan's face was not lost to Jake, who smiled with a hidden arrogance as he slowly dragged his hips back, pulling his hard cock completely out of your squelching heat, shiny from your juices, the loss of fullness forcing a broken whimper to escape your throat. Without warning, Jake grabbed your hips and flipped your over, gently smacking your ass until you got the message and moved to lean forward on your hands and knees, gasping from the sting of his hand that would definitely leave a mark in the morning. 

Jake moved to press himself up against your ass, idly twirling your tail around his veiny forearm and giving it a firm tug, "Why don't you put that mouth to work for Tsu'tey if you're just going to be a smartass, huh?"

You whine, feeling so degraded, and yet your body feels like it's on fire. Keeping yourself upright on your hands and knees, you flip your hair over to one shoulder and look up at Tsu'tey through hooded eyelashes, your face flushed and your lips shining wet from rolling your tongue over them as you watch his tight loincloth begin to dampen with precum. When you peer up at the silent warrior, your eyes lock and you can't help the way your mouth gradually falls open, poking your tongue out like a welcoming invitation that makes Tsu'tey's balls tighten.

The growl that leaves his throat softly echoes throughout the marui, and your pulsating walls clench around nothing, a flutter of arousal making its presence from such a sound. Finally, Tsu'tey unties his loincloth and both you and Jake shamelessly watch his cock spring up to attention once released from its confinements. He's not as big as Jake, but he's still long with a small barb leaking precum at the tip, which flushes an angry dark purple.

He doesn't waste any more time, not when you look so enticing. He grabs a hold of your chin, harshly, and squeezes until you're forced to hold your tongue all the way out, the dominance making your belly stir. He grips his cock with his free hand, angrily pumping himself with a few, firm strokes as his dark, gold eyes keep you frozen in your spot, your spine tensing with anticipation. Tsu'tey gently slaps his leaking tip against your tongue for a moment and you bring the appendage back in your mouth, moaning at the taste of him before you roll it back out for more.

Tsu'tey looked up and met Jake's gaze, and whatever Sully saw swimming in those same orbs made the muscles in his stomach clench. You can feel Jake twitch against your entrance and you whine while pushing back against him for more, all the while keeping your mouth wide open and panting like a bitch in heat, your warm breath fanning over Tsu'tey's length. The olo'eyktan groans lowly, eyes drifting back down to you as he lines himself up, parting your lips with his tip before gradually shoving his way into your mouth.

You choke once but then immediately relax your throat, breathing deeply through your nose to try and not gag, moaning around his cock when you taste more of him. You've barely been given time to relax and breathe before Jake finally pushes his own dick back inside your pussy, filling you up in one swift motion that makes your moans rise in pitch, the vibrations turning Tsu'tey into a growling, feral creature that forces himself to remain still... for now.

Jake faintly smirks while huffing out a small moan in response to your pussy contracting around him, "'See how her bratty mouth isn't running anymore?"

Tsu'tey's usual snarl appears as he gives Jake a warning look, "I wonder if the same conclusion will happen if I do the same to you."

You don't have to see to know that Jake's shit-eating grin is etched on his lips, leaving you moaning around Tsu'tey when your husband slides out and immediately plunges back in, a large, wet slap echoing in the air when his hips meet your ass.

"I think she'd like nothing better than to see you teach me a lesson," Jake pushes out while huffing a strained, small laugh, "She just got tighter."

Tsu'tey grunts in answer, feeling your throat constrict around his cock like a living being each time Jake pulls out and shoves his way back in. 

"Ngh, yes. Very 'ekxin," Tsu'tey groans out, finally giving in and starting to move his hips back and forth, small motions at first before eventually matching Jake's rhythm. 

You felt like a spitroast with both cocks thrusting in and out both ends of you, and even more so when you felt a burning warmth, pleasant and growing deep in the pit of your stomach. The way Jake's cock rubs against the lining of your inner walls is so addicting, but you're unable to savor it because you're instantly distracted by the reminder to breathe through your nose when Tsu'tey only manages to plunge further down your throat. It was the kind of edging that would make anyone insane... and you loved it.

"You're greedy, baby, ya know that?" Jake growls playfully as he bends over your back and nips at your ear, "First, you had Toruk Makto, but then you also had to go and want the olo'eyktan. Well, now you have both of us, and it looks as though you can barely handle it."

The whines you let out send shocks up Tsu'tey's cock, making him growl uncontrollably, like a cornered animal. His mind foggy with desire, he briefly forgets how he needs to be gentle and roughly grabs your kuru, pulling it back to force your head to tilt at the desired angle before thrusting deep inside your mouth. His balls slap the underside of your chin while your constricting throat makes the most obscure, spongy sounds as you take his dick.

One of your hands shoots out to tightly grab his thigh, gagging around his cock as the leaking tip hits the back of your throat, past your uvula. Your nails dig into his skin in an attempt to push him away, but that only appears to rile him up more.

He snarls down at you, pulling back his lips to display his teeth, "Take it, sevin."

Your eyes widen with tears as you choke around him, your tearful gaze only spurring Tsu'tey on. Jake bites down on your shoulder, either to muffle his moans or to remind you he was there, no one could say. 

"You heard him," Sully gasps as he lathers his tongue over your new bite mark, "Take it, baby. Take it all."

He tugs your tail a little tighter, reminding you that he still has his arm tangled around it. You whine loudly around Tsu'tey, feeling him twitch inside your mouth. The Na'vi man only rides your mouth faster, growling incoherently, precum leaking down your throat, making it tickle and threaten to make you cough or choke. Sensing he was close, you flex your tongue just underneath his length, hallowing your cheeks to the point his thrusts leave the most grotesque, sucking noises to fill the air.

"Yawntu-" Tsu'tey cut himself off with a snarl, his muzzle scrunching up like an angry thanator, "Kalweyaveng-!"

He's so deep in your throat that your nose bumps his pelvis, feeling his muscles tighten in his abdomen as he starts shooting his cum down your throat with one last thrust, driving himself as deep as possible while gasping for breath. You don't even dare close your eyes no matter how good it feels, watching his face contort above you, eyes closed as his brow ridge scrunched up as if in pain, and his mouth open while panting for air, loosening his grip on your kuru. He's still emptying his load as he slowly starts to pull out, the last couple of streams of his seed splashing over your lips and cheek. You close your mouth to swallow before your lips fall open to gulp down the air as if your life depended on it, your gaze flicking back up to him with half-lidded eyes. 

Tsu'tey's tail twitches behind him at the sight of your flushed and marked face. While the heat of his lust has dimmed slightly from his eyes, the way he looked at you made everything in your body instinctively tighten, forcing both you and Jake to start spiraling to your own orgasms.

Jake whines every time he pushes his cock back inside your wet heat, a ring of white cream now forming around his thickness every time he stretches your puffy ring, "Ah, ah, ah-!"

The first spurts of his seed filling your womb sends your eyes to roll back as you clamp down around his cock, forcing him to stop thrusting and just empty everything he has as deep as possible, painting your walls. You moan loudly as the warmth in the pit of your stomach bursts, flooding your body with euphoria, a high you have never been able to recreate without your husband, but this time it only felt better with both he and Tsu'tey pumping you full from both ends.

As usual, Jake's ears twitch erratically as the edge of his orgasm begins to fade, leaving him blubbering nonsense as he tries to ride it out longer, "Ohhhh, baby. That's it... oh, fuck. Clenching me so tight... god, I never want to leave this tight little thing. Took us so well. Our little doll."

Instead of replying, the overstimulation as Jake faintly moves his hips to form shallow thrusts makes you whine and reach forward to bite the inside of Tsu'tey's thigh, eliciting a deep sound in the back of his throat as his hand tightens in your hair once more, "Mawey, sevin."

Jake chuckles and slowly pulls out, groaning while watching a large amount of cum leak out of your abused slit, his tail already curling with interest, "Take her real quick so I can grab a cloth."

As if you weighed nothing, Jake takes your hips and lifts you up, passing you to Tsu'tey like the doll he claims you to be. Your face practically magnetizes to the crook of the olo'eyktan's neck, the corded muscle flexing beneath your lips as you playfully bite him stirring a small wave of amusement through you. Tsu'tey harrumphs while tightening his arms around you, his previous hesitance no longer there.

"Did I mention she bites?" Jake smirks while finding a cloth and wetting it down, moving back over to the two of you.

Tsu'tey scoffs faintly, but there wasn't any malice behind his tone, too exhausted and surprisingly relaxed to care while watching Jake dip the cloth between your legs.

As your gasp quietly at the feel, Jake dips his head down to whisper hotly in your ear, "So, tomorrow night... how do you feel about breaking your link and keeping both yourself and your avatar here so Tsu'tey and I can fuck both of your pussys?"

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @inolaphoenix @neteyamsoare @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neteyamssyulang @sullybrothersmate @rivatar avatar4eva @bdudette

[heartyluv]

Note: This is a little self indulgent because despite how cringey these movies are, I loveee Fifty Shades of Grey. Was never really a Jamie Dornan girlie, but I felt this worked the best. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, my luv. And thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy! Please —Click Here— to view the ask if you’d like!

Warning: Zayne’s a little jelly, but it’s nothing serious.

Word Count: 946 ~ i’m sorry if this is too short :(

Zayne/Reader

Your boyfriend was having an…interesting time, trying to figure out what about this film had you captivated. What about this woman blindly trusting and agreeing to have—something be ruled as explorative—sex with a rich stranger, had you so infatuated. So much so that you’ve watched it dozens of times.

“Why would he tell her that she must steer clear of him if he’s the one who invited her out for coffee in the first place? Surely he could tell she wasn’t someone to care only for the physical aspects of a relationship.” He was completely perplexed.

Zayne wasn’t a fan of romance movies. Not because they were inferior or anything, they simply weren’t his cup of tea. And scenes like this proved to him why he felt that way.

“It’s to build the characters and the foundation for his development, babe,” you chuckled. “He wants her, but can’t have her type of thing.”

“He is a billionaire and she clearly seems willing to indulge him. In fact, he’s the one to push her away. What is the issue?”

Your sweet and very matter-of-fact lover has always reminded you of an alien trying to understand Earth and the behaviors of humans for the first time when it came to him attempting to enjoy some of the things that you liked. He would always join you when you asked and if he was available, but you knew to be prepared for him to ask you all kinds of questions to better understand.

You honestly loved it, being able to enlighten him about things in the same way he does you with absolutely, well—everything. Even if it’s fiction, you still were like his trusted guide.

He occasionally looked between you and the screen as you two sat cuddled up on the couch, beginning to realize that it wasn’t particularly the movie itself and its…questionable story that always brought you back.

It was the man.

He noticed how you’d bite your lip and smile when this Christian Grey would say lines so cliche and cringey that it nearly made his eyebrows touch.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question. Factually, an observation.

You turn to look at him, pressing your lips together to suppress your smile. “He’s like…my celebrity crush, kinda. I guess. But you’re my boo, Zayne. You know that.”

“I do,” he responds with confidence. “This crush. I didn’t know you had one. I can’t decide if it’s cute or not.”

You pout your lips and smile fully this time, gently nudging his side. “Awww, don’t tell me you’re jealous, babe.”

“I’m not—” His jaw clenches and the blue light of the TV lets you see how his ears began to tinge red. He looks back at the screen. “Jealous isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

The movie progresses and Zayne knew there would be sex involved based on the brief description you gave to convince him to watch it with you. What he didn’t expect was the first time between the two characters, to be so intimate.

The music, the atmosphere—it was certainly unique for the type of trope that was being portrayed.

He looked over at you again subtly, his perfect brows raising when he sees how intensely you stare at the way Christian pulled Ana’s jeans down. How your thighs shifted and pressed together beneath the blankets when he kissed down her stomach until he got between her legs.

It was very easy as your man and your doctor to notice subtle changes about you. So naturally, he saw the way your breath increased and stared closer to see how your heartbeat was thumping faster right beneath your jaw.

Even how your damn pupils dilated when Christian ripped the foil wrapper of the condom open between his teeth.

Yeah, he was cutting this off.

You were taken out of your trance-like state when he grabbed the remote and paused the film, leaning over to turn the lamp on.

“Zayne!” you exclaim with a slight whine. “Why’d you stop it like that?!”

“Are you aroused?” He asks you so flatly and abruptly that it’s amusing. Well, it would be if you weren’t being questioned like you were sitting on his examination table and not in your living room.

“What does that even matter?!”

“Because your answer will determine if we will continue watching.”

“So you are jealous!”

“Can you blame me for feeling that way? You’re close to drooling over everything this…person says and does like you wouldn’t be cringing from inside out if you heard any of it in real life.”

“Oh, pooka butt.” Your tone raises a few octaves like you’re trying to coddle a baby. The corner of his mouth tilts in slight amusement at your teasing. as you pull him in to wrap your arms around him.

“Come to mama,” you coo when you squeeze him tight. “You know how much I love you, Zayne. In every universe and in any crowded room full of thousands of Jamie Dornans, I’d always pick you.”

“Frankly, I wouldn’t give you a choice, but the sentiment is…sweet, I suppose.”

“Okayyyyy,” you stretch out the syllable with an exaggerated, but playful sigh. “Don’t ruin my attempt to assure and love on you.”

“You’re right. My apologies. Please,” he presses a kiss right below your ear. “Continue.”

“If I continue anything, it won’t be with words…” you flirt.

“Actions do tend to show you what words can’t, or so I’ve heard. Maybe you should prove how much you love me.”

Creds to @/sweetmelodygraphics for the dividers!

A/N: I honestly don’t know how well I did with this…Time to shut my phone down LOLLL