#x fem!reader

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[rafesbimbo]

ᴄʀʏʙᴀʙʏ ꜰᴛ. ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ

Warnings: 18+, 2.2k words, porn with plot, LOTS of tears, choking, dacryphilia, degradation, praise, overstimulation, make-up sex, (toxic??), pet names used, possessive!rafe, doggy style, hair pulling, reader is def sensitive !!!, unprotected sex, creampie

Pairing: Mean!bf!Rafe Cameron x Crybaby!Reader

You looked too pretty tonight.

Too fucking pretty for your own good.

Rafe hadn't stopped watching you since you stepped out of the bathroom of your shared hotel room earlier, wearing that soft little dress — dark blue, strappy, hugging every curve. You’d even worn those little heels he liked, the ones that made you sway when you walked.

Now, standing beside you at the wedding reception, Rafe’s hand rested heavy on your waist. His thumb was sliding slow circles over your side, possessive, hidden from everyone else's eyes.

"You look good, baby," he said low against your ear.

"Real good."

You smiled up at him, sweet and soft, cheeks warm.

But Rafe's eyes were colder than his voice. He saw the way other people — other men — kept sneaking glances at you across the ballroom. The way the waiters lingered a second too long at your table when they refilled your champagne glass. The way your pretty laugh carried when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

And it was getting under his skin. Fast.

"Rafe," you said, laughing when he squeezed your waist a little too tight, "relax."

"Can't." His voice was clipped. "You don't see the way they’re lookin' at you."

You gave him a look — gentle, patient. "Nobody’s looking at me like that, honey. You’re just bein’—"

"Don’t tell me I'm being crazy," he snapped, a little too loud, a little too sharp.

Your smile faltered.

A few people turned their heads.

You pressed your hand to his chest, trying to soothe him, your eyes pleading.

"Please," you whispered. "Not here. Let's just have a good time, okay?"

Rafe forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

He kept his arm around you the rest of the night, grip firm, jaw clenched, like he was daring anyone else to even look at you.

2 Hours Later

The drive back to the hotel was suffocating.

Rafe’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His jaw was locked tight.

You sat curled against the passenger door, arms folded, trying to make yourself small. The pretty dress you wore felt too tight now. The silence buzzed between you, thick and ugly.

Finally, you tried to break it.

"Baby—"

"Don’t."

His voice was sharp, slicing through the space like a knife.

You swallowed hard. Turned to look out the window instead. The streetlights smeared gold across your blurred vision.

Rafe let out a humorless laugh, bitter and cold.

"Bet you liked it, huh?" he muttered. "Them looking at you. Bet it made you feel real special."

You turned sharply toward him, heart cracking. "That's not fair!"

"Not fair?" he sneered. "Sweetheart, you were fuckin’ eatin' it up. Laughin' with every guy that came near you. Flirtin' like you didn’t have a man right there next to you."

"I wasn’t flirting!" you protested, voice breaking. "I was just being nice!"

"Yeah? Maybe you’re just a dumb little slut who doesn’t know the difference."

The words hit you like a slap.

Silence.

Crushing, awful silence.

You curled in on yourself, biting your lip so hard you tasted blood.

Tears blurred your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not in front of him.

Rafe gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles straining.

He heard your sharp, shuddering breaths.

He knew he went too far.

But he was so fucking mad he couldn’t stop himself.

"You got no clue what you do to me," he muttered. "Walkin' around lookin’ like that. Actin' like you’re free."

You flinched.

"I’m not free," you whispered. "I’m yours."

Rafe’s hands flexed on the wheel.

The hotel came into view, glowing against the dark.

"You sure about that, sweetheart?" he said, voice low, dangerous. "You sure you’re mine?"

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

The lump in your throat was too thick to speak around.

And Rafe didn’t say another word as he pulled into the parking lot, yanked the key from the ignition, and stormed around to your side of the car.

You sat frozen until he ripped the door open.

"Get out," he ordered.

You stumbled out on shaky legs, trying not to cry.

He grabbed your hand — rough, unforgiving — and dragged you behind him into the hotel.

Rafe slammed the hotel room door shut behind you, the sharp click of the lock echoing in the silence.

You stood there trembling, your little clutch purse slipping from your hands onto the floor.

Rafe just stared at you.

Breathing hard.

Eyes dark.

Jaw ticking.

You didn’t know whether he was going to yell or walk out.

Both would have gutted you.

"You’re mine," he said finally, voice low and wrecked.

You nodded shakily, tears pooling in your eyes. "I know, Rafe."

He stalked forward, chest heaving, grabbing your chin rough between his fingers. Tilting your head back to make you look up at him.

"You don’t act like it," he hissed. "You act like some little whore that don’t know who she belongs to."

The first tear slipped down your cheek.

You gasped, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let you go.

"Aw," he sneered, even as his voice broke. "Cry me a fucking river, sweetheart."

Another tear fell. Then another.

You whimpered, chest heaving with the effort not to sob.

You didn’t even recognize yourself — standing there in your pretty dress, makeup smudged, heart breaking right open in your chest.

And maybe that’s what finally snapped something inside Rafe.

Because suddenly he was cursing under his breath, yanking you against his chest, hands fisting in the back of your dress like he could tear it right off you.

"Fuck," he muttered harshly, burying his face in your neck. "Fuck, baby, I'm sorry."

You hiccupped a breath, body trembling.

"I didn’t mean that shit," Rafe whispered fiercely, kissing up your jaw, your temple, frantic. "Didn’t mean a fuckin’ word."

"I-I hate when you’re mean," you sobbed, fists weakly pushing at his chest.

"I know, baby, I know," he groaned, squeezing you tighter. "I’m a fuckin’ asshole. But you—you make me lose my goddamn mind."

He dragged the zipper of your dress down with shaking hands, yanking the straps down your arms, baring you to the cool hotel air.

"You’re so pretty, sweetheart," he whispered against your skin. "So fuckin' sweet. Don't wanna hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good."

You whimpered when he pushed you gently onto the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed behind you, big hands shoving your dress up around your waist.

"Need you," he rasped. "Need to feel you cryin' on my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you tell me you're mine." You heard the sound of a belt buckle coming undone.

You nodded frantically, tears still spilling down your cheeks.

"I’m yours," you cried. "Always yours, Rafe."

He groaned like the words physically hurt him.

"You’re my good girl," he praised, lining himself up at your soaked entrance. "My sweet little crybaby."

Then he pushed in — one hard, brutal stroke — splitting you open so deep and rough you choked on a sob.

"That’s it," Rafe growled, snapping his hips into yours, relentless. "Cry for me, baby. Let me fuck it all outta you."

Your fingers scrabbled at the hotel sheets, bunching the crisp white fabric in your fists.

Every brutal snap of Rafe’s hips drove you forward, the bedframe creaking under the force.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, dragging one hand down your back, nails scraping lightly. "You're so fuckin' tight. So good for me."

You sobbed into the mattress, overwhelmed — by the stretch, by the heat, by the way his cock hit that perfect spot inside you over and over and over.

"Fuck. I love hearin' you cry for me," Rafe muttered, voice raw with need.

He grabbed your hair, not too hard but firm, pulling your head up so you weren’t hiding your pretty tears from him anymore.

"Wanna see you," he panted, rutting into you harder.

"Wanna see my sweet little slut fall apart."

You whimpered helplessly, tears streaking down your cheeks.

"Fuck—baby, I'm sorry," Rafe groaned, pressing kisses to the back of your neck even as he kept fucking you rough. "Shouldn't have said that shit. Should���ve been tellin' you how perfect you are."

You clenched around him, making him curse under his breath.

"You forgive me, sweetheart?" he rasped, voice breaking, hips slamming into you without mercy.

"Y-yes, Rafe, yes!" you cried out, the words high and broken.

"Good girl," he praised, biting down gently on your shoulder. "My good fuckin' girl."

You felt so small under him — crushed by the weight of his body, the heat of his love, the intensity of his need.

Your thighs shook violently, the pressure building unbearable.

"Can't," you sobbed, hips jerking. "Rafe—gonna—"

"You can, baby," he coaxed, fingers slipping down to rub quick messy circles over your clit. "Be my good girl and cum for me."

Your whole body locked up, toes curling, vision whiting out as you came hard around him, your wails muffled against the sheets.

Rafe groaned loud, thrusting deep, deeper, chasing his own release.

"That's it," he hissed. "Fuckin’ love you, my crybaby."

"My perfect little slut."

With a strangled growl, he buried himself inside you to the hilt, spilling hot and heavy, grinding his hips against yours as he rode out every wave.

He collapsed over you, not pulling out yet, panting against your skin, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he could keep you from slipping away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, over and over between desperate kisses to your shoulder blades. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, baby. Never wanna hurt you. Only wanna love you."

Rafe didn’t pull out.

He stayed buried deep inside you, both of you shuddering from aftershocks, breathing hard.

His arms wrapped around your waist tighter, chest pressing against your back.

You could feel his heart hammering, feel how hard he was trying not to lose it.

"You're mine," he murmured against your ear, softer now. Reverent. "My sweet girl. My only girl."

You hiccupped a tiny sob, the last of your tears spilling.

Not from hurt this time.

From love.

He kissed your temple, your damp cheeks, your hair, whispering little apologies between every kiss.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he breathed. "Didn’t mean to say all that ugly shit. You’re too good for me, sweetheart. Too good for this world."

You turned your head just enough to look at him, your pretty lips trembling.

"I love you, Rafe," you whispered.

His whole face crumpled.

"I love you more, baby," he said hoarsely, brushing your hair back from your face. "So fuckin’ much it makes me crazy."

Slowly, carefully, he eased out of you.

You whimpered at the loss, at the sticky mess between your thighs, at the emptiness.

Rafe caught the sound instantly, shushing you gently, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you flat against the bed.

"Stay there, baby," he said, voice full of warmth. "Lemme take care of you."

You nodded weakly, too floaty to argue.

You listened to him move around the room — wetting a warm cloth, muttering curses under his breath when he couldn’t find what he needed fast enough — and then he was back.

Rafe cleaned you up so tenderly it made more tears slip free.

He kissed every spot he touched.

Murmured praises nonstop.

"Such a good girl," he whispered. "So fuckin' beautiful, even when you're a mess."

You whimpered when he wiped between your thighs, the cloth soothing against your sensitive skin.

"Did so good for me, sweetheart," he praised, kissing the curve of your ass, your lower back. "Took it all like my perfect, sweet girl."

Once you were clean, he grabbed one of his big T-shirts from his suitcase and slipped it over your head.

It swallowed you whole.

You looked so tiny in it it made his chest ache.

Then he climbed into bed, dragging you into his arms, tucking you tight against his chest like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You nestled into him, breathing in his warm, familiar scent — soap, sweat, cologne — and finally, finally relaxed.

"Don’t wanna ever fight with you again," you mumbled sleepily.

Rafe's arms tightened around you.

"Me neither, baby," he murmured into your hair. "Next time I'm mad, you just sit on my lap and remind me who the fuck you belong to, yeah?"

You giggled softly against his chest.

Rafe grinned, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you slow, deep, and sweet.

"My girl," he whispered. "Always my girl."

And you fell asleep right there — wrapped up in him, heart full, body sore, soul safe.

[nthewriter]

Okay I don't really like the idea that Price’s wife is something meek small and shy I do believe the contrary but that's up to anyone to believe what they want

Price's wife not being a small pretty soft and kind little thing but an absolute menace leading her own task force

The boys meeting Price’s wife after a botched operation, being shocked that this woman barking orders and shooting enemies left and right is suddenly kissing their captain when they reach the transport vehicle

Price’s wife own task force specialised in picking up stranded soldiers in dangerous areas, renowned for saving anyone at any time

Jokingly nicknamed Valkyries, even if the squad is half male, the Valkyries strike to save anyone and succeed in their missions

Price's wife being muscular, with a few scars here and there, a sharp and keen eye, you don't want to get on her bad side

Price's wife keeping her own surname and Price had told the boys he had wanted to take hers but she had refused when they got married

“You're married?????” “Yeah since the 2010's :D my wife's wonderful”

Being unable to conceive so Price and his wife treat their squad as their children. They know it's bad, because there is no way some can stay alive during the operations, and there has been time where it was very difficult to mourn them

You can be sure after this encounter, Price and his wife invite the 141 and the Valkyries at their cottage, the two squads starting a rivalry to know who is more loved

Keeping pictures of their squads and their families on the walls of their cottage home, behaving like proud parents and grandparents

[spookysanta]

The Stack Effect. (3/3) (MBJ)

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x reader

Warnings: smut

part three babies! enjoyyyy

She didn’t expect to feel nervous.

But as she walked the familiar path toward his trailer, lunch in hand and butterflies chewing through her stomach lining, it hit her that this time felt different.

Michael was back to himself.

No gold teeth. No silk shirts. No slow-drawl, slick-smiled Stack. Just Michael. Hoodie up, sweatpants low on his hips, head bent over a script.

She knocked anyway.

The door cracked open a few seconds later, his head peeking out. His smile was immediate.

“Twice in one week? You tryna spoil me or something?”

“Brought you lunch,” she said, lifting the bag.

“Mm.” He stepped aside, motioned her in. “Or you’re just missin’ me.”

She walked past him, trying not to inhale too deeply. He still smelled like set: cedar, sweat, heat. But cleaner now. Calmer.

Normal.

Except nothing about her thoughts were.

He shut the door. Locked it. Then leaned against it, arms crossed.

She set the food down on the little table but didn’t unpack it.

He watched her. Smirking.

“You weren’t this obsessed with my other characters,” he said slowly. “Why now?”

She blinked.

“Huh?”

He pushed off the door. Took a few steps forward.

“I’ve played all kinds of motherfuckers. You ain’t never looked at me like you were ready to risk it all in public. But Stack?”

Her face flushed.

“Stack had you folded. Blushing. Shaking. Needing.”

“Stack is…” She shook her head. “Different.”

Michael raised a brow. “How so?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

He stepped closer. Close enough that she had to tilt her chin to keep eye contact.

“You ain’t got the words? Thought you were the one always teasing me about staying in character too long.”

She swallowed.

“Michael.”

He smiled, but there was no warmth behind it.

“Nah. You called him by name when you came. Twice.”

Her knees weakened.

He leaned in, nose brushing her temple.

“Now you’re bringin’ me lunch like you’re innocent. But I can see it. You still feel him in your body, don’t you?”

“I came to feed you,” she whispered.

“You did.” His lips ghosted her neck. “Now let me feed the part of you that’s starvin’.”

She didn’t have time to answer before his hands were on her hips, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the counter.

He stood between her thighs, mouth inches from hers.

“That character ain’t got shit on me,” he murmured. “You think he was bad? You ain’t seen obsessed yet.”

He kissed her like it hurt. Hands greedy, rough, dragging down the front of her shirt until skin met skin.

“You know why it’s different?” he said between kisses. “’Cause I’m the one who gets to keep you. Not him. Not the accent. Me.”

He bit down gently on her collarbone, made her gasp.

“He had his fun. Now it’s my turn.”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t let her breathe.

By the time he dropped to his knees, hoodie still on, eyes dark and locked on hers, she realized this wasn’t about proving himself.

It was possession.

And he was never giving her back.

Tags: @childishgambinaax @blackisy2k @hamzahsf4vg1rl @siasoup @heyyimmisunderstood

If you want to be tagged in any of my future pieces, click here to sign up for my tag list.

[diejager]

Can u do pyramid head fucking n overstimulating reader in a headlock?

Like his arms are fucking massive so imagine how good it’d feel to have one around your throat while he absolutely rails you😭

Headlock Cw: smut, overstimulation, creampie, headlock, tell me if I missed any.

You struggled against him, nails digging into his arm forearm, wailing out in pure bliss. You jerked forward with every hard thrust of Pyramid Head’s thick cock, his bulbous head ramming against your spongy cervix. He held you still, his strong arm curving over your neck with a vice. He never faltered even as he drove in and out of you, standing still on two muscle-bound legs that you doubted would buckle under his fast and rough pace.

The veins that ran from the base, over the fat middle of his cock and to the tip felt heavenly with the slight curve upwards, rubbing your spongy walls. You rolled your hips, legs kicking wildly under you while you squirmed, crying out for him for something. You didn’t know anymore, one second you’d be craving his cock, drooling and moaning for more, and the other second, you’d beg for him to stop, plead your case from your soft and tender cunt.

Your cunt pulsed, a loud beat that echoed in your head, it throbbed with a striking warmth, almost painful but never hurting. You came one too many times, slick dripping down heavy balls and his sculpted thighs. He proudly growled in your ear, hips slapping against your ass with loud, wet sounds. He revelled in your cries and mewls, your begging only egged him on to fuck you.

“Please! T-too much!”

He loved the sound of your voice, the high squeaks and your broken voice. You were his drug, something he couldn’t get enough of. It left him wanting and wanting, there was always more he wanted to have. The difference between you both was something he salivated at, that made his cock grow hard and leaky, your soft and round limbs, your shorter stature and your weaker strength. It played on his instincts, it attracted him to the more vulnerable.

His chest rumbled with a soothing growl, still thrusting with an erratic pace and a throbbing cock. He breathed out in short puffs, arm tightening around you as fast as your walls tightened around him, milking him for all his worth for a third time. His balls contracted, his body shaking as he came, slamming into you even as his tip spurted cum, painting your warm walls white with monstrous cum.

You shook, body trembling in his arms, gasping for air as you rode your nth climax, loosing count of the number of times Pyramid Head made you come on his fingers, his tongue and his cock. You couldn’t feel your legs, the loud beat in your ears deafening you to the world and you monstrous lover.

“Are- are we done?”

[just-zy]

I chose you

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: When Wednesday transferred to Nevermore, the school lacked the fiery hostile attitude Y/N always spat out, perhaps a change of heart. But frankly, it never left in the first place. Wednesday frequently hears of the comments about your temper all around nevermore—it's like living hell, they said. Well, she thinks otherwise.

A/N: okay hi, long ass "summary" but short ass oneshot, sorry, so readers ability? ignition touch, anything the reader touches can be ignited on command. Mhmm makes this less boring lmao, dk if the story still needed it tho. (w and r are dating!)

warnings!: reader's a big ass bully (but an absolute baby) to basically everyone LOL (idk this js sounded so fun to write, dk if others would agree), use of curse words (ton of them), arrogant reader idk

Masterlist

One way to make Y/N's blood boil was simply looking at her wrong, asking her stupid questions that held no common sense whatsoever, and definitely bumping into her, accidentally or not. You're in for one hell of a ride, you'd think she's kept that attitude bottled up all night, but the thing is, that temper doesn't die down easily. First thing in the morning, once you see her passing by the hallway, even just a glance, she surely wouldn't notice, right? Well you'd be entirely wrong.

Because after that glance, she'd be all up on you, no matter what.

"The fucks with you, huh? Got something to say, stoner?"

"Look at me like that again and I'll fuck you up, one on one, mermaid."

"I'm not entitled to control my anger because I don't care, you mutt!"

You were ignorant, an absolute arrogant jerk who looks down on everyone, literally. You may have been a high-achiever, sure but you were boastful about that too, you were better than everyone in the school premises, even Bianca Barclay has presumed you are.

Egoistic and all, you were top of the class, every class you took you outstood, even the teachers took accountability of the mistakes you mentioned about the way they educate.

Weems wasn't all too scared of you, she didn't have any reason to be, obviously, you basically saw her as a mother-figure, and you respect her too much to actually do something rebellious in the school. You've always said empty threats, from the very beginning, you claimed it as being bored all the time, so you rile up the students just for the hell of it. Hopefully that was why you were constantly high up your ass, although you've always wondered how Weems don't nag your ear off about your behaviour.

Then the goth gore girl came, you didn't think much of it, more so even glanced at the name of the introduction of the girl. However, it took you by surprise how the new girl stood out from the others, not that she tried, she just did. You had wanted to take a harmless nap in the middle of the class, but then you heard it, a question from the teacher that was quite tricky to answer. Plainly you wanted to show off, not like anybody expected less, it just runs to your veins like a satisfying clink of glass wine to brag about your brains.

Then, a beat. Before you could lift your head, you heard an unfamiliar voice that belonged to none other than Wednesday Addams herself.

Even after she got the answer correct, you'd still wonder how deep thought her response was, it wasn't indifferent to yours, but it definitely was something else. And that's all it took to get you hooked by the raven-haired beauty.

—

When Wednesday met you, you weren't uptight, you weren't intense nor did you act like a hardheaded maniac that all inside them was fined with anger complaints.

You were chivalrous, courtly and noble, totally the opposite of what people imagined you were to be in a relationship. Shocking.

But, you were committed, of course you were, and that felt like a stroke of luck for the Nevermore students, satisfaction. No more angry mob of knuckles so early in the morning welcoming violence, no more flaming wide arms trying to wager students with fist fights, or in a more unbalanced and prejudiced way—a lit of fists with the opponent stuck with non-magical hands, and definitely no more sharp tense stares that can bury you six feet under in under a second.

There wasn't a day where Wednesday had to question anything with you, she's now too smitten to care less about you. Today's just the start of a trial in understanding you better.

—

Wednesday was reluctant on following a panting Enid, tho the pup insisted that it was important, her hand hovering over Wednesday's while she had her brows scrunched, clearly annoyed.

"Touch me again and I'll have your limbs fed to your fellow pack of werewolves."

"Okay! Chill out! I can't breath- Y/N's.. well she's okay but these students were interrogating her and–"

Well that was all it took to have the goth girl stride all the way to her beloved who was apparently in some type of crisis.

"Quad!"

And she was full on sprinting, all the thoughts in her head were full of you, all of you. If you were okay, if you were still breathing fine, god forbid Wednesday gets none historical days.

"Y/N."

The way she says your name was like capturing you with cuffs that were too tight on your wrists, her voice so evident it made you halt.

There you were, standing with rage and destruction. The way she sees your eye twitching, your ball of fury hung in the air ready to strike another punch, the other hand of yours scooped on the collar of the student who obviously had the guts to say anything in the first place.

The image itself was disturbing enough to make someone run away and sob. Honestly, a random student passing by would probably do that.

"Wednesday..I– I'm.. Look I—!"

You stumble on your words. You never do.

Wednesday didn't need to say anything, she just huffs and turns but doesn't move until she hears your boots drawing near.

She doesn't wait for you to say anything else tho, that's when you knew you were in a tough spot.

Wednesday wasted no time, after you both got into your dorm, she immediately tends to your wounds that would soon make bruises all over. Your bloody knuckles, your busted lip. Of course she mildly thought you looked sophisticated, but you didn't need to know that. She's supposed to be upset with you.

"I didn't... start the fight."

Wednesday let out a hum, urging for you to proceed while she gently nurtures your injuries.

"They said something about you.", your voice wavers, on the public's eye it probably wouldn't have been anything serious, but to Wednesday? It was every feeling that she felt when she heard your voice that way, the ache in her chest was undeniable. It was everything she's ever loathed.

"That you were only with me now because.. you've never really seen me so pissed off. And well, it got to me, I know it shouldn't have but what if it were true?"

Oh, how Wednesday's cold heart ached.

Wednesday gave out a light sigh while still caring for your wounds, the way her fingers suddenly twitched every time she heard your voice quiver, the way she just wants to embrace you till everything feels better, till her everything feels better.

And that's just what she did.

Her light touches meant so much to you that if someone were to ask you what your weakness was? It would be Wednesday Addams.

"Ever since I've been held captive in this hellhole, trying to get out of this place, then I saw you, yet I didn't care. You saw me and thought it would be easy waltzing your way into my life."

It wasn't supposed to be funny, but it was. Well, to you. Your ego was so high up, her barrier broke just for you.

"Allowing you in my life may not have been a conscious decision at first, but choosing you to stand by my side was a deliberate and genuine one."

You sobbed into your lover's arms, pulling her impossibly closer to you, afraid if you let go, she'll vanish on thin air.

"And I will remain by your side, not out of obligation, but simply because I choose to, because I chose you."

She was never planning to let you slip away—not now, not ever.

______+______

A/N: short and bad ik ugh i need to be on my A game next time, but anyway.. hope u enjoyed

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Miguel O'Hara having you bent over the kitchen counter, legs spread wide and back arched. His enormous hands on your hips, holding onto you with bruising strength while he pounds you.

You're a sobbing, moaning mess, your every sound a pathetic whine that begs for more. And he gives it to you.

He fucks you almost too hard, his thick cock pushing your velvet walls to their limits, the bulbous head bruising your cervix.

“You're so pretty when I'm inside of you, princesa,” he grunts, an enormous hand spanking your ass. “Makes me want to take a picture of you, all full of my cock.”

You reply with more mewls and whimpers, nails digging into the counter top, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Miguel!” you cry out, cunt clenching as your orgasm grows nearer and nearer.

“Already?” he taunts, laughing almost maliciously. “I've just started with you.”

You whimper, an embarrassed blush spreading over your face.

Miguel tangles his fingers in your hair, tugs on it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. “If you come before I let you, I'm going to punish you. And it won't be pretty, princesa.”

You try to hold yourself back, but every ounce of self-restraint vanishes when his rough, calloused hand slides under you to play with your swollen, throbbing clit.

You come hard, body shaking, mouth falling open as moan after moan of ecstasy leave you.

Miguel smirks. “Oh, princesa.” He clicks his tongue. “You owe me now. You're gonna be my pretty little toy for the rest of the night,” he says, his mouth moving to your ear. “I'm going to use you over and over again until you're broken, see if you learn your lesson then, hm?”

You shudder, knowing there's no escaping this, knowing you'd never want to escape.

-----

Just a little thought that popped into my head while I was trying to fall asleep :)

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio

-----

Blog masterlist

[lxvvie]

"Look at how that pussy wraps around my cock." -Gaz while watching himself pull his cock back out.

"No, no, no, darling, don't turn away," is what Gaz croons gently when you close your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations, too flustered by the way he's staring so intensely at you.

"Look at it," he says when he pulls out midway and holds himself there with a soldier's restraint and you tremble and want to clench around him, "Look at me..."

You do.

"There we go, gorgeous..."

And he slams back in.

[warmestandcoziest]

“what have i told you about cooking with no clothes?” jack’s question floated through the warm air of your kitchen, exhaustion laced in his tone. “i’m wearing plenty clothes” you responded as you looked over your shoulder. his eyes trailed down your figure, loose shirt and small shorts covering just enough for you to be standing in front of the kitchen window comfortably.

too much he thinks, dropping his bag and walking towards you. jack’s strong arms wrapped around your middle and squeezed you closer to him. you dropped the tongs you were flipping the bacon with to rub his forearms. your head tilted back on his shoulder, his scent flooding your nose. he huffed as a wordless response to which you placed a kiss on his neck. “you hungry baby?” you asked, turning back to your food.

“always” he responded simply, sneaking a cooked piece from the paper towel. you popped the top of his hand before reaching for the cabinet above the stove. “pancakes or waffles?” you called to him while he retreated to the bathroom to shower. “surprise me” he called back making you roll your eyes with a smile.

[the-californicationist]

sneaking around

you didn't mean for him to hear you. you thought you had been quiet enough. not a sound had escaped from your tight-pressed lips and your clenching throat even as you teetered on the brink of an orgasm. you were so needy, and yet, you couldn't wake him up to take care of you, no matter how badly you wanted to. john price was a busy man, and he was exhausted from jetlag and warfare and all sorts of terrible responsibilities.

you could handle it, you could take the edge off yourself, slip your shorts off without shaking the mattress, tuck your finger under the elastic of your panties to tease yourself, playing inside of your hole and wishing he would wake up and roll over you, taking you like an animal without the slightest concern for your comfort. it was his hole, after all. he told you so all the time.

but, disappointingly, you held your breath, you fought the urge to move your hand too quickly, battled within yourself to keep from whining lest you wake him up.

it wasn't enough. you needed more. you were so close. you felt the electric surge of your bliss teeter just beyond your reach. your finger needed to be thicker, longer, rougher. your movements needed to be faster. you needed to be more like him. if you could just...

suddenly, you felt the bed dip. you stopped moving, freezing in place, your hand trapped inside of your panties, caught in the act. he turned over and you felt a warm, furry, heavy body roll over to embrace you from behind, his mouth sighing into your ear in a dark, smoky purr,

"mmm, what's this then? needy little slag..."

he moved his hand over your shoulder and down your arm, slow and gentle, tracing soft lines as he passed over your elbow and your forearm before finally wrapping his fist around your twisted wrist. he fanned out his palm and dipped inside of your pantyline right along with you, shadowing your exact position, all the way down until he traced the edge of your knuckle as it was buried deep inside of your throbbing hole.

you tried to apologize, worried that he would be upset,

"john, i'm sorry to wake you, i jus-"

"keep going."

"no, i'll stop. you need to sleep."

"keep. fucking. going."

that last command had the same effect as a hammer to a nail. he drove you forward, and you began to fuck yourself in earnest, moving your fingers through your flesh and chasing your hot, sticky joy. all the while, his hand was glued to yours, doing noting to help and yet feeling the way you were sprinting after your own pleasure.

his arm was heavy, and it was hard to get the pacing right, but he didn't seem to care. he was stuck to you like glue, and every time you wanted to reach deeper, he followed you, his hand pressed to yours like a cast. every time you drew lurid circles around your clit, his finger lay right beside yours, tracing the exact same line.

"tha's my girl. just like that. feels good, yeah?"

"yes... mmfh..."

"thought you could sneak one by me," his rumbling laugh goaded you, "cheeky whore. fuckin' yourself right next to me like i wouldn't know."

"i wanted... i need... please, john, i n-"

"tell me what you need," he snarled, making a point to drag his swollen prick over the back of your thighs, painting your skin with his drooling tip.

"please..."

"say it. tell it to my face, darlin'. i wanna hear you beg for it."

"fuck me, please, john. i need... unghh... i need you to fuck-"

and that's how you found yourself pinned beneath him, your body shaking like a leaf from a cascading barrage of orgasms, your thighs bruised from his punishing grip, trembling from the mind-blanking surge of heat and joy. you were so sensitive, and he knew just where to touch, just where to suck, where to push, where to pull.

before sunrise, you could feel your hole dripping with round after round of his slurried come, and you watched, helpless, as your captain's big body fucked his own spend back into you for a second, a third, a fourth time. the scent of his sweat and his sex were permeating the room, drugging you like a potion, making you wonder why you ever thought you could handle this on your own.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

How would Bruce be affected after the kidnapped fic ?

So many people liked this fic, I have to do a follow-up post! But here's the post if you all want to see it again. Kidnapped fic

Reader is avoiding the bats at every chance they get. Like, you're not even 6 ft apart; isn't that enough? You need them far away from you. They're the reason you got kidnapped in the first place. You weren't a child of Bruce Wayne; if you weren't associated with him, this could have never happened. Not only that, you start to blame yourself. Like a lot, you think maybe if you were strong like Damian, you could have fought them off. Maybe if you didn't rely on them for almost everything, then you would have been safe. You're spending every waking moment and every hour with your mom. She's holding you tight, saying everything is going to be okay. She sleeps with you in your bedroom and never leaves your side. It's crazy how you feel so much safer with her than you'll ever feel with the bats. But since you're at a distance from them and won't even speak to them, their yandere tendencies are literally skyrocketing. Bruce is using the Batcomputer to find the goons that kidnapped you and ruin their entire lives. Dick is literally outside of your room asking—no, begging—for you to let him in. He leaves little notes at your door, trying his hardest for you to talk to him. At one point, he's going to bust down that door just to try and comfort you. Jason knows what it's like to be abandoned and forgotten. He did call you a spoiled brat, but he never really meant it. He's your big brother. Please let your big brother help you when you need him the most; he can relate to how you're feeling right now. He swears just let him protect you; he wants to be the one to save you, whether you like it or not. Tim is watching your every move. You finally feel confident enough to go out alone by yourself, but he's two steps behind you, staring. He had a nightmare that you were taken away again. He opens your door and watches you sleep for hours, just to make sure that you're still there. Duke is trying to help you gain confidence by going outside and being out at night, but every time he tries to hold your hand or keep you close, you pull away instantly. It breaks his heart to know that he has to keep you at arm's length because that's the only way you guys can connect. But don't worry; he'll be the night light in the city of darkness just for you. You and Damian have a tough relationship; really tough. But he just doesn't find it fair that you're confiding in Alfred or your mother or everybody else except him. When he tries to get close to you, you flinch away. He's not going to hurt you; he swears he's not. He may be the grandson of the demon head, but he's nothing like Ra's, and he's trying to prove that to you and to himself. It doesn't matter; he's chaperoning you no matter where you go, forcing you to hold his hand or stay close. As Robin, it's his job to keep people safe, especially the people he cares about, even if they don't know that he cares about them.

[lon3lystarr]

run, lassie , run

•pairing: remmick x fem!reader

•summary: y/n always inspired to be a musician. music called her in ways nothing ever called before, her soul yearned greatly to create beautifully crafted melodies. she was determined to and she would do anything in power to have her music being heard.

•warnings: vampirism, blood,physical affection, setting is around the 1930’s, cursing, the use of y/n, y/n is a little stupid but this is fiction, a lot of flirty name calling, mentions of saliva and blood, “i love you” WIIIIILL be in this story, his may be a little lengthy, i didn’t proofread so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos ://

•a/n: i just watched sinners for a second time…don’t judge me

likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! <3

the perfectly hand crafted guitar heavy in her palms. y/n has always wanted to express herself through hums and melodies, wanting to embrace the gorgeous tones her grandfather once played for her in her youth, it seemed like her grandfather was the only one who supported her and her musical talent, he always spoke of how she was born with a powerful and strong voice. the kind of spiritual pull that brought multiple generations, spirits of several ancestors and different cultures together. she was greatly gifted and she knew it, her grandfather knew it, everyone knew it..even ones she didn’t know was listening in the cold shadows.

y/n found herself singing for the children in town daily, it was a routine created to bring a little joy to the innocent. young faces lit brightly when they spotted her with her polished dark cherry colored guitar in her hands, smile painted on her lips as she walked to her regular spot away from the rest of the townsfolk, right under a big longleaf tree, the harsh sun rays being block as the wind was sweet and refreshing “well aren’t i glad to see my sweet little birdies” y/n kindly said to the group of giddy kids, small voices shouting out “hi’s” and “hello’s” to y/n sitting all around her in a semi circle “what do y’all wanna hear today hmm?” asked y/n, fingers on the slim neck of the guitar, the little voices around her all seemed to go quiet, thinking before yelling out “this little light of mine” y/n knew that was going to be their answer, that was one of their favorite songs she sang to them. with a gentle smile she began to play the first cords of the song, her finger softly playing the guitar as she sang in a mellowed voice.

the kids in front of her clapped their tiny hands as y/n finished the song they recommended, they gave y/n tight hugs before they ran off to attend their chores for the day, y/n did the same while her guitar was glued to her side. by the time she finished with her chores the sun started to set, the sky bursting with shades of orange and yellow glowing mississippi one last time before nightfall. y/n sang the whole way back home, singing gave her a sense of peace and relief, an escape from the reality she had to endure everyday since birth, the lyrics flowing out her lips smoothly and quietly, the birds chirping, flying and soaring around over her head spontaneously and carefree without stress or worry in the slightest, must be nice.

y/n finally reached her home, it wasn’t much, just a small one level wooden house that was just on the outskirts of town, far from civilization and society but she liked it that way, she didn’t need to worry about how loud she was singing or during the late hours of the night she was up singing to the insects right outside of her home. it was like her own little world and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

while y/n lit some candles to bring light to the empty icy house, she sang under her breath, the same song she sang for the kids in town, she was finally settling down and peeling off the clothes she wore for the day into the long airy lightweight off-white nightgown, the wooden floors creaking and groaning under her weight as she made her way out onto her front porch with her guitar in hand, the swinging bench covered in a wool blanket comfortable, welcoming and warm. she sat down and started playing the song she’s been practicing for weeks now, this was her nightly routine for the past couple of nights so tonight wasn’t any different.

as her voice flowed with the cool night air she suddenly felt eyes on her, of course there wasn’t anyone around for miles but something in her gut told her she wasn’t alone, maybe she was paranoid or maybe someone did hear her singing and decided to listen, either way she continued singing and playing until the end of the song, playing the last chord of the song silence now heavy in the air, the night sky dark with no stars or clouds just the big round pale white moon centered in the sky, it was the only light provided. y/n closed her eyes to enjoy the peaceful silence for a while, the stillness put her mind at ease, it felt like a reassuring hug tell her that everything will be fine, everything will go the way she so desperately hoped it would, hopefully

“darlin’ what ya doing here outside all alone?”

a voice spoke, cutting smoothly and coyly, the voice was deep and masculine his accent very pronounced. at first y/n able to see the figure that spoke but the figure suddenly stepped closer to her and she was able to match the voice to a face. he was handsome, his skin pore-less and pale slightly glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his dark brown hair clung to his forehead as the ends of it curled in every direction, his lips chapped but still rosy red “cat’s got ya tongue huh sweetheart” he stated like he already knew the response to that “just a little surprised that’s all sir” y/n spoke, voice airy and standoffish “oh no need to speak so formal, i’m Remmick. what’s your name hm?” he asked, smile wide and inviting “i’m y/n..” she replied while gripping the neck of her guitar a little tighter “well y/n i must say you have the most beautiful voice, truly one of a kind darlin’ i heard it from down the road, i had to hear a little closer” Remmick said, his smile becoming more softer “thank you so much, i greatly appreciate that remmick” y/n replied kindly, her heart jumped a little from the compliment, it felt just as genuine as her grandfather’s compliments he once gave her “you know..i play a little as well, not as beautifully as you but i’m sure i can manage. may i sit with you?” remmick asked respectfully, he waited for y/n to answer “yes you may, i would love to have a second voice singing with me” y/n said, smiling the first time tonight.

remmick gently sat next to her on the rocking bench, his banjo sitting in his lap while y/n’s guitar in hers. remmick recommended a song she knew all too well, a song she only played for her grandfather when he still had a beating heart, she was glad someone else knew the song and knew the chords of it, while they both sang together, voices harmonizing she felt a little closer to him, yeah that was stupid to think but that’s how she felt at the time. the last lyrics flowed out of their lips as, the song came to an end “you have a talent that’s powerful, when you sing i feel it in my bones song bird” remmick sweetly remarked, his eyes shining with admiration and interest “what’s stopping ya from getting out of this place and becomin’ big?” remmick asked, confusion and curiosity present in his tone “well the only audience i have is the kids in town, i used to sing for my grandpa but may god rest his soul passed on a couple of years ago…so i’m just here in mississippi playin’ for whoever wants to listen” y/n replied, she knew the thought of becoming bigger was ridiculous, she didn’t even know where to go if she wanted to live out her dream “my condolences honey…i didn’t mean to bring ya down. it’s just confusin’ to know you haven’t made a name for ya self.” remmick said, his voice tender and comforting “i’ve had an amazing time singing and sitting with you…tomorrow night will ya be out here again?” he asked, sliding closer to y/n’s form “i enjoyed spendin’ time with you too and yes, i’ll be here, like always” she replied, her eyes gazing into his, their body heat swirling around one another from how close they were sitting together “you don’t mind me joinin’ you again?” the brown haired male asked, he slowly raised his right hand to gently lift the sleeve of her nightgown back onto her shoulder, y/n shuddered from the sensation from his cold hand, the hand covered in scars, the pink skin tissue looked raw like it still needed some time to heal, he softly caressed her silky skin still looking at her moon lit face, mesmerized “i don’t mind at all” y/n whispered her reply, as if there was anyone else around to hear them “well we have a deal then darlin’. see you tomorrow night” remmick said, sliding his hand down her arm to her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers then planting a small kiss onto the back of it, he then rises from the bench and into the dark shadows of the night, leaving nothing but the butterflies in her stomach from their interaction.

many many months passed with y/n and remmick meeting up every night. singing and talking the night away, it became an easy routine to follow especially when it’s remmick who’s keeping her company. y/n didn’t mind spending time with him, the cool night breeze kissing her cheeks as she listened to his soothing voice talking about his past experiences and his future aspirations, it was nice to just listen to him speak about something he’s passionate about “and that’s when i decided to learn how to play the banjo, i wanted to feel that spark i was missin’ in my life and music makes me feel that spark. you understand right honey?” remmick said, turning his attention to her, waiting for her response but it never came, y/n just stared at him with her shiny eyes “somethin’ on my face sweetheart?” remmick asked, laughing softly “no no, sorry just deep in thought…but i was listenin’ to what you were saying” y/n said, she didn’t want him assuming that she wasn’t listening, she always listened to him “deep in thought huh? what ya thinking’ about?” remmick asked, curiosity eating away at him “whether or not i should give singin’ a real chance. ever since i was just a little girl i always dreamt of being something big and i’d do anything to get my name out there but..maybe i should give up…maybe that’s not my future aspiration” y/n explained, she started loosing hope in her talent, sitting with her thoughts wasn’t the healthiest “don’t say that. don’t give up. it’ll be a waste of beautiful talent if ya do, you need to follow that dream and make it reality…i can help…i can promise you the future you desired since younger” remmick spoke, assurance and certainty laced in his words “and how will ya help remmick? don’t make empty promises you can’t keep. that won’t be kind to do” y/n said, her words came out a little harsher than she expected but she was a little frustrated, it felt like he was mocking her “have you ever questioned why we only spend time at night together? does that not raise some eyebrows darlin’?” remmick pointed out, y/n thought about that once in awhile but she only assumed he preferred and chose to stay inside during the day, maybe he didn’t like being out during the day and she didn’t blame him if that was the case, the morning and afternoon heatwaves weren’t the kindest “sometimes…but i didn’t really go into thought about it, why are you pointin’ that out?” y/n asked, confused on the switch of topic “i’m pointin’ that out because i’m not human,i’m a vampire…i once was able to walk into the sun and feel the warmth of it but not anymore, not since thirteen hundred years ago” he admitted, the words he said sounded foreign, sounded supernatural, sounded fake

“i’m not human…i once was but not anymore, not since thirteen hundred years ago”

those words made y/n’s heart drop, she didn’t want to believe anything he was saying but something told her he was speaking the truth, the heavy silence made y/n ears ring like white noise “sweetheart…i know this may be shockin’ or unbelievable and i can show you how real it is. i just want to be able to give you the opportunity to live out your dreams” remmick said, he didn’t want to scare y/n off, she already seemed like she went mute on him, god knows how scared she’ll be if he showed her his true form without warning her “…show me…if you aren’t human, i want to see what and who you truly are..” y/n demanded, her ears and her brain couldn’t register what remmick admitted to her.

remmick stared into y/n’s eyes, his blue-grey eyes cast over and changed into a glowy red color, his teeth that were once dull turned into sharp knife-like fangs, clear drool seeping from his lips like a predator hunting down his prey, he looked sinister, animalistic and wild. “i’m not gonna hurt ya dolly, i wouldn’t dream of doing that. just don’t be afraid of me, don’t go runnin’ from me, i can be your way out of here. you wanna create a name for ya self and i can help you…just stay with me” remmick pleaded with her, it’s been centuries since he felt the connection like the one he had with y/n, he didn’t want to lose her and the thought alone scared him.

y/n stared at the creature in front of her, if someone told her the man she spend weeks getting close to, being vulnerable with, finding comfort in was a vampire she’d never believe it but now it’s become her reality and she’s speechless and emotionless.

“do you trust me y/n?”

does y/n trust him? before she would’ve immediately answered “yes” but now…she wasn’t too sure. this was still him, still sounded like remmick, still behaved like remmick, still looked like remmick aside from the eyes and teeth. y/n truly still felt that connection she had with him, she still felt the attraction for him, she still craved his soft spoken words and gentle touches, and if that made her insane then she’s off her rockers. “i trust you remmick.” y/n replied, her hands gripping the nightgown anxiously “do you trust me enough to become what i am? be with me for all eternity, be able show everyone that gift you have for generations to come?” he asked, slowly getting closer to her “yes.” y/n said confidently, she didn’t need anymore convincing, the things he spoke was everything she wanted, to be able to create melodies and music for everyone to hear and she didn’t mind remmick being there with her every step of the way

“oh darlin’ come here” remmick said husky and low, his left hand gripping y/n’s delicate chin while he pulled her into his space, their lips barely touched, remmick teased her slightly, he just wanted to make this moment last. he kissed both corners of her lips gently then he finally kissed her, he slowly and sensually pulled y/n closer to him, pulling by her waist into his form wanting to feel the heat radiating off of her body, he needed her close, he wanted to feel the weight of her body on to his, her heart fast and wild “mmm baby, you’re sweeter than a berry…can only imagine how your blood tastes” remmick said seductively, one hand drawing circles on her glistening chest while the other was glued to her hip “taste me then remmick, no one’s stoppin’ you” y/n said, her voice matching his tone, her eyes low with lust, her response earned a sharp and firm slap to her plushy ass, y/n’s body yearned for any kind of attention he gave “promise me this is what ya want honey, don’t wanna do something you aren’t sure about.” remmick said, parting his body from hers to allow her brain fog to evaporate, to allow her to think clearly without the suffocating sensation of his body onto her body “i promise. i want this and i wouldn’t want to have it any other way. please remmick, give me what i want, you have my permission..” y/n said, she softly grabbed each side of his head towards her neck, giving him physical access to the vulnerable and delicate area

he sprinkled feather-light kisses on to the hot skin of her neck, she was his personal heater, his personal sun and he absolutely loved it “i’ll give you want you want baby, i’ll give you everything and anything you want” remmick mumbled against her before grazing his sharp teeth across her neck, giving her a slight warning before sinking his fangs into y/n’s mellow plushy neck. the pain spread all over y/n body, she shivered from the fiery hot sensation spreading like wildfire, y/n fisting remmick’s sweat covered back finding comfort in the person who was causing her pain. maybe she’s as sick as him but that just made them perfect for each other and y/n loved that.

remmick kept gnawing at her neck, black dots in her vision, her eyelids lowering as remmick continued his abuse on her neck, he eventually removed his mouth from the wound on her neck his lips,chin, neck and chest drenched in her blood, she could feel the sticky hot dark red liquid all over her chest. before she her heart slowed down and fully closed her heavy eyes, remmick smiled at her sweetly, his crimson stained teeth in full view “i’ll be right here when you wake honey” his voice sounded far and disorienting, she felt like she was sinking under deep water, darkness took over her vision and silence filled her ears like cotton. this was her choice, this was her decision and she made the right option.

by the time y/n woke, she felt energized and awake. the tiredness from her bones now gone, she stirred from her bed, remmick moved the both of them inside of her home, hidden from the blazing hot morning sun “hey baby, did ya slept well?” asked the familiar husky voice, his hot palm pressing against her lower back “mmhmm, slept amazingly.” y/n admitted, turning to face the handsome male with a smile, something felt different in her mouth, her teeth didn’t feel dull and blunt like before, the ends of her canines were sharp like razor blades and they felt longer than before “so gorgeous…my gorgeous woman” remmick said under his breath, his warm hand rubbing up and down the sides of her frame affectionately “my handsome man” y/n groaned out, wrapping her arm around him and roughly pulling his body to hers, she didn’t know how strong she became, she felt like she had the strength of a thousand men, it felt amazing “woah baby, you treatin’ me like a rag doll now?” remmick moaned out, liking the feeling of being roughly grabbed “i can get used to it” he said before kissing her soft lips, the kiss deepening into a feverish kiss “you’re somethin’ else honey…i’m glad you entered my life, you’re my missing piece” his voice tender and vulnerable with sincerity. he has never experienced anything like this, he never thought he’d be able to feel vulnerability and love especially with the monster he became decades ago, the open bleeding wound in his heart was now patched up, all because of y/n and he couldn’t have it any other way.

“you make my life beautiful y/n..and i’ll thank you even after my last days on earth.” he said, his eyes soft and kind, he rested his head onto the crown of her head, inhaling her comforting scent.

“i love you y/n.”

“i love you remmick”



[rafesbimbo]

You’d been on edge all day.

It started that morning — Rafe waking you up with lazy kisses on your neck, his hand sneaking under your oversized t-shirt, palming between your legs with a sleepy, possessive groan. He didn’t even make you come. Just got you soaked and aching, then whispered,

"Be good for me today, angel. Save it for me."

And like the obedient girl you were, you did.

All day, you followed him around like a shadow — sitting at his feet while he played poker with his boys, fetching him drinks when he barely nodded at you, your thighs pressed tight together, desperate for friction you weren’t allowed to have. Rafe didn’t even have to say much. Just those dark eyes on you, that slow, knowing smile, kept you compliant and messy, nerves wound so tight you thought you'd snap if he even breathed on you too hard.

By the time he dragged you into the bedroom, you were already crying — overwhelmed, overstimulated without even being touched properly.

Rafe chuckled under his breath, looking you over like you were a present he couldn't wait to rip open. "You been cryin' all day for me, huh?" he murmured, tilting your chin up with two fingers. You nodded, tears spilling over, bottom lip trembling.

"So fuckin' pretty when you cry," he muttered, right before he kissed you — hard, bruising, like he was starving for you.

You whimpered into his mouth, pliant, soft, letting him do whatever he wanted.

You always did.

He didn’t waste time. He shoved you onto the bed, climbed on after you, big hands pushing your legs apart with rough, greedy palms.

You could barely hold your own wrists behind your back when he barked a low, "Hands, now." But you did it anyway — the need to please him burning hotter than anything else inside you.

Rafe groaned, one hand locking your wrists together, the other grabbing his cock and lining it up with your dripping entrance. "Been savin' this sweet little pussy for me all day, huh?" he rasped. "Good girl. Best fuckin' girl in the world."

You sobbed at the praise, arching your back instinctively, offering yourself up.

The first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs — brutal, unrelenting — and your whole body jerked forward.

Rafe didn’t let up. Pounded into you with filthy, relentless strokes, keeping your arms trapped behind your back so you couldn’t do anything but take it.

"That's it, baby," he panted against your ear, voice thick with need. "You cry all you want. Still gonna be my good girl, aren't you?"

"M-mhm," you gasped, tears soaking the sheets beneath you.

"My fuckin’ angel," he groaned, biting down on your shoulder, driving into you harder, deeper. "Nobody better than you. Nobody."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

i hc that Marc has a biting kink. I just wanted to put that out. Marc is the kind of guy to suck first, pull back for split second- CHOMP

I am politely screaming!

(I blended this ask with another one, which I hope is okay!)

Late

Marc Spector x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: Sleepy sex, p in v sex, biting, love bites, pet names, cream pie, pussy smacking (but softly), Marc being a bit drunk on pleasure, not beta read, like really, really not beta read, I'm sorry, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 823

You gasp, arching your back as Marc pushes into you lazily from behind. His chest is warm against your back, his legs intertwined with yours and caught up in the bedding. 

You’d been about to fall asleep when he’d come back home. He’d tried to get into bed quietly, so as not to disturb you. But you’d wriggled back, pressing your ass against his crotch and muttering ‘I missed yous’.

One of his arms is squeezing your hip, urging you to rock and roll against him however you want, matching your pace as he languidly thrusts inside, rubbing your walls perfectly with the head of his cock. 

His other hand is wrapped under your neck so he can palm your jaw, pushing your head to the side so he can lick into your mouth and mutter nonsense against your lips. 

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps and moans, maveling in how your pussy squeezes and pulses, pulls him deeper inside. He pants, groaning, “You’re so warm and wet, god.” He shivers, bucking a little harder and whining when you flutter around him. 

He can’t help himself as he mouths at your neck, sucking and licking at your skin as he just lets himself sink back into the sensation, lets his mind slip into a buzzing quiet as his body’s craving for pleasure takes over. 

“Marc,” You whine his name, wriggling as you push back to get the best angle. He growls a reply, his eyelids fluttering closed as he sinks his teeth into your neck and sucks hard. 

You moan, shivering in his arms as he bites, littering your skin with bruises. 

His chest rumbles against your back as his grip on your hip tightens, his teeth pressing ever so slightly firmer. 

You gasp his name again, rocking back harder as you chase your pleasure, needing to feel him stretch the deepest part of you. 

He mutters your name between bites and snaps of his teeth, suddenly rolling onto his back and pulling you with him like you weighed nothing. No matter how many times you bear witness to his superhuman strength, it still surprises you. 

Marc keeps you pressed against his back, rocking up into your heat as he moves from one side of your neck to the other to feast. He bends his knees, forcing them between your legs and spreading them wide as he fucks up into you, moaning as his cock bullies in and out. 

“Marc,” you writhe, reaching back for him and he growls again, grabbing hold of your arms and holding them to your chest as he plants his feet and moves faster. 

He pierces the very heart of you, spearing so deep you think you can see stars. Your thighs shake as you’re stretched over the thick base of him, pleasure bubbling and building in your stomach. 

He moans in your ear, his breath hot. “Fuck, fuck,” he mutters between nips at your skin. “Letting me fuck you like his,” he whines. “Letting me get so deep. You’re so good to me.” He swallows, spreading his legs wider so you're pulled tight as a drum. “You’re gonna make me come.” He kisses your pulse point, darting out his tongue to lick your skin and groaning when you shiver. 

He rolls his hips, thrusting up harder, faster, making the bed creak under his strain. He snakes his free hand down your stomach, and for one glorious second you think he’s going to rub your clit. But instead, he spreads his fingers out on either side of it, keeping his palm pressed against your lower belly. 

You gasp. “Marc, please.” 

He moans a response. 

“Please!”

“How much do you want it?” He groans, his eyes dark and hazy. 

“So much, please, please!”

He nips at your shoulder, rolling his hips in an almost hypnotic fashion. “So much, so desperate, you’ll take anything?” 

“Yes!”

“Fuck.” He swallows, the pressure at the base of his spine almost erupting. Without thinking he raises his fingers from your skin and then lightly smacks them down onto your clit. 

You jolt, moaning loudly. 

“Fuck.” He does it again rapidly, smacking with just enough pressure to send a thrill up your spine as he presses. 

You cry out, clenching around him and Marc screams. He comes hard, pulsing and spurting deep inside you as he fills you, whining your name the whole time. 

Quickly, he presses his fingers down, rolling and rubbing your clit in the rapid circles he knows will push you over the edge after him. 

You gasp, tensing and convulsing as you come on his cock and against his fingers. Pleasure floods your veins, whitening out your vision and liquifying your muscles. You moan loudly as he drags your orgasm out, pulling you thin as his thrusts become lazy and sated. 

He can’t help but buck up a few more times, groaning at the thought of pushing his come deeper inside of you. 

Thank you for reading!

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[fellominaarcher]

2 HOUSES, 1 FAMILY - Karina x fem!reader

→ Two couples. Four disasters. Zero boundaries.

EPISODE 1 — Welcome to the Block!

SYNOPSIS

→ When Yunjin and Chaewon move into the house next door, chaos immediately follows as Y/N and Karina "help" with the unloading, mostly by bickering and dodging real work.

→ author's note: I'm sorry if this doesn't match up to your expectations

──────────────────────

— COLD OPEN

EXT. KARINA AND Y/N’S HOUSE — SEORAE GROVE, SEOCHO-GU — LATE MORNING

It was forty minutes away from noon in Seorae Grove, a quiet neighborhood in Seocho-gu where tall, modern two-story houses stood in neat rows. The streets were clean, the hedges trimmed, and everything smelled faintly of wealth and pine.

Out front of one such house stood Karina and her wife, Y/N, loitering near their black Hyundai Tucson parked in the driveway.

“Are they arriving?” Karina asked, exasperation lacing her voice as she cast a sideways glance at Y/N.

Y/N nudged a small rock with her sandal, not bothering to meet her wife’s gaze. “Do you see a moving truck anywhere, Rina?” she replied dryly, one brow arched.

This was just how they communicated—mildly sarcastic, always borderline bickering, and perfectly in sync.

Karina said nothing at first, but raised an eyebrow in return and crossed her arms. She stared out at the empty street, unimpressed. “We’ve been standing here for at least fifteen minutes, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed, a little dramatically. “Just a bit longer. My sister and her wife are moving in next door—it’s our duty to celebrate this... significant event.” She trailed off mid-sentence, eyes lighting up. “Oh! They’re here!”

A white moving truck appeared at the end of the street, a white sedan leading the way. Y/N straightened with visible excitement and waved both arms as they approached. “They’re here!”

At that moment, Karina’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, glanced at the screen, and held it to her ear. “Perfect. A call from the office. You,” she pointed at Y/N with a raised brow, “entertain your sister and your in-law. I’ll be inside. Bye!”

And just like that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the house.

[Marriage Days Count: Karina and Y/N have been married for 2,289 days.]

INT. YUNJIN AND CHAEWON’S NEW HOUSE — LIVING ROOM

Yunjin and Chaewon waddled into the empty space, each carrying a box. Their arms were sore and their patience thin, but their eyes gleamed with excitement. As soon as the boxes hit the floor, they looked at each other with growing smiles and embraced tightly.

Yunjin sighed into Chaewon’s shoulder. “Finally. A good home to live my whole life with you.”

Chaewon nodded, smiling. “Yeah. Just... you, me, and your sister living next door.”

Her tone was light, but there was a hint of hesitation underneath.

“I knooow,” Yunjin groaned, dragging the word out. “You already know Y/N, and Karina unni is chill.”

Chaewon gave a tight smile, unconvinced.

From the hallway came a clatter and the sound of boxes being awkwardly kicked along the floor.

Y/N entered the room, panting lightly, pushing a stack of boxes with her foot. Her face was flushed but she still managed to give them a big thumbs-up.

She was clearly thrilled to be involved.

[Marriage Days Count: Yunjin and Chaewon have been married for 152 days.]

Fifteen minutes passed.

Y/N had helped carry in a few boxes but mostly the food and lighter items and had now settled comfortably on the sofa, scrolling through her phone with a bag of chips in her lap. Chips that definitely did not belong to her.

In the kitchen, Yunjin meticulously arranged appliances like she was curating an art exhibit. Being the executive chef she is.

Meanwhile, Chaewon knelt on the living room floor with an IKEA manual in one hand and a plank of wood in the other.

She glanced over her shoulder and cleared her throat. “Um, some help, please?”

Y/N didn’t react. Chaewon cleared her throat again, louder.

Finally, Y/N looked up, blinking. “Huh?”

Chaewon gestured toward the unassembled shelf. “Mind helping me set this up?”

Y/N gave a sheepish grin. “Let me rest for a bit. I was sweating. Plus, you just moved in. No rush, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to respond, but the doorbell interrupted her.

She placed the shelf part down gently and moved to open the door.

Karina stood on the porch, holding up a white-and-blue tote bag with a bright, polite smile. “Can I come in?”

Chaewon stepped aside to let her in. “Sure.”

“Here’s your housewarming gift,” Karina said, handing her the tote.

It was a clearly branded freebie from a bank’s wellness event. The material was thin, the logo loud.

Chaewon forced a smile. “Thank you… It’s... very modern.”

She took the bag with both hands, feeling the unmistakable crinkle of cheap promotional fabric.

──────────────────────

CONFESSIONAL — INT. CHAEWON AND YUNJIN’S HOUSE

Chaewon sat on the couch, legs crossed, eyes on the camera. “I don’t know how Y/N managed to convince Yunjin to move in next door,” she said flatly. “This is... interesting.”

Her gaze shifted off-camera briefly, toward the freebie tote in the corner.

Then she looked back, expression unreadable.

──────────────────────

EXT. OUT FRONT OF YUNJIN AND CHAEWON'S HOUSE — AFTERNOON

An hour had passed since Yunjin and Chaewon officially began moving in. The furniture was being unloaded from the moving truck, and the front yard had become a small chaos of boxes, cushions, and shouted instructions.

Near the porch, Y/N stood with her arms crossed, occasionally waving or gesturing like a low-budget traffic controller.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tilt it like that! You’ll lose balance carrying it!” Y/N called out, squinting critically at the movers struggling with a TV shelf.

One of the men glanced at her, squinting back in disbelief, then shook his head and continued hauling the shelf into the house without a word.

From across the driveway, the familiar shuffling of slippers announced Karina’s arrival. She stepped out of their house, arms folded, expression unimpressed as she took in the scene: Y/N standing there micromanaging while doing exactly zero heavy lifting.

“Go help your sister unpack or something,” Karina said, her voice sharp over the noise of boxes scraping and movers grunting. She mimicked Y/N’s frantic hand-waving motions with exaggerated flair. “Instead of just standing there doing this, that.”

Y/N sneered and turned to her wife, gesturing lazily toward the truck. “Eh, why don’t you help them instead?”

Karina gave her a long, slow once-over before raising her hands and wiggling her fingers in the air. Her nails gleamed a delicate light blue-white in the afternoon sun.

“I just got my nails done yesterday,” she pouted, her voice dramatically soft.

Y/N eyed her nails with a judgmental squint, her face full of betrayal. But instead of arguing, she huffed and returned to helping the workers by telling them where not to put things.

Meanwhile, Yunjin and Chaewon emerged from their new house, scanning the front lawn for the next batch of boxes to carry inside. They were halfway down the steps when a new voice cut through the afternoon buzz.

Just then, from across the street, a familiar figure approached.

Ms. Ko, the sixty-year-old retired school principal, was striding over, waving a hand enthusiastically in the air.

“Oi! Karina! Y/N! Looks busy out here!” she called, a wide grin splitting her face.

Y/N's smile faltered. Under her breath, she muttered, “Not you again,” through gritted teeth, sending Ms. Ko a side-eye full of dread.

Still, both Karina and Y/N quickly pasted on polite smiles and greeted her in unison.

“Hello, Ms. Ko.”

──────────────────────

CONFESSIONAL — INT. KARINA AND Y/N'S HOUSE, HOME OFFICE

Karina sat behind her tidy desk, arms folded, looking directly into the camera.

“Ms. Ko is the neighborhood's self-appointed... information officer,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “One time, Y/N and I were arguing in the driveway over something important, like whether the stray cat we're feeding should be named ‘Vladimir’ or ‘Prof. Whisker’—”

She paused, deadpan.

“Ms. Ko comes marching over, asking if we’re getting divorced because we were 'shouting about the disagreement of naming a child.'”

Karina blinked slowly at the camera, her voice flat. “It was the name of a cat.”

She threw up her hands, leaning back in her chair with an exhausted sigh.

──────────────────────

BACK TO SCENE — EXT. OUT FRONT OF YUNJIN AND CHAEWON'S HOUSE

Ms. Ko chuckled lightly at the new faces and the familiar ones clustered near the porch.

“We’ve got new faces here! And who are you lovely people, if I may ask?” she said, turning her attention to Yunjin and Chaewon.

Chaewon stepped forward with a practiced, polite smile. “I’m Chaewon, and this is my wife, Yunjin. We just officially moved in today,” she said proudly, gesturing toward Yunjin.

Yunjin nodded brightly, adding, “I’m also Y/N’s younger sister!” She pointed between herself and Y/N, grinning like she was unveiling a grand secret.

Ms. Ko’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. She leaned in, squinting hard, as if trying to find the resemblance through sheer will.

“Oooohh, you don’t look alike at all,” she said, peering even closer. Then, without missing a beat, she added cheerfully, “Yunjin looks more okay compared to Y/N.”

The words hung in the air for a beat too long.

Y/N's glare could’ve set fire to concrete, and Yunjin’s smile faltered into a confused half-frown.

Ms. Ko, oblivious, waved a hand airily. “Ah, I can’t stay too long! I’ve got a dating show to catch up on, Yunseo is talking to another man in the show,” she said with a little giggle, excitement twinkling in her eyes.

“I’ll see you all again!” she called over her shoulder, already retreating back across the street, disappearing into her house like a mischievous ghost.

The four women watched her go in stunned silence.

Finally, Chaewon broke it. “By the way,” she said, turning toward Yunjin with a slight frown, “I can’t find my Sour Patch Kids or my pizza-flavored Pringles.”

Her voice had the distinct tone of someone realizing a crime had been committed.

Y/N, suspiciously silent, suddenly found the sidewalk, the tree, the clouds, literally anything else fascinating to look at.

Karina, standing right next to her, noticed immediately.

“We all know what happened to your snacks,” Karina said with a sigh, flashing a knowing smile toward Chaewon and Yunjin. “The answer’s right in front of your eyes.”

She patted Y/N’s shoulder with faux affection. “Anyway, I’m heading back inside. I have a monthly report to finish.”

And with that, she turned and strolled away, leaving Y/N frozen in place under the accusing stares of her sister and sister-in-law.

──────────────────────

INT. YUNJIN AND CHAEWON'S HOUSE — EVENING

Hours had passed. The house was no longer a hollow, echoing space. It had transformed into a warm home, filled with bits and pieces of Yunjin and Chaewon’s lives.

With the help of the movers, most of the heavy lifting had been done. Y/N carried lighter boxes inside, munching on stolen snacks while explaining the "neighborhood politics" to Chaewon like it was compulsory.

Karina? Well, she floated in and out, sweeping half-heartedly, placing a few decorative pieces here and there, then mentally calculating how much it would cost to “refresh” their own house's aesthetic. Priorities.

Now the space was halfway complete and already felt like a reflection of Yunjin and Chaewon:

A milk-colored couch draped with a light blue blanket.

Simple IKEA shelves lined with Yunjin’s prized cookbooks, framed wedding photos, and Chaewon’s oversized ring light, always ready for impromptu selfies.

And, of course, Yunjin’s precious kitchen—designed with the same precision as her restaurant, Dear Roseburn. Every pot, knife, and pastel-colored chopping board had its place. Each item was dangerously cute.

Chaewon’s idea, actually.

Meanwhile, Y/N was just happy to be near the kitchen toys, bubbling with an excitement usually reserved for dogs seeing their leash.

It was nearing six in the evening, the sky outside burning in soft hues of orange and purple. Time for the older couple to leave the newlyweds to their first night at home.

“Welcome to your new home, Yunjin and Chaewon!” Karina said cheerily, standing by the door with Y/N holding it open. “If you're having a housewarming dinner soon, don't forget to call us over!” she added, laughing a little too awkwardly.

Y/N gave Karina a weird look.

Inviting yourself already?

Yunjin and Chaewon, exhausted but smiling, waved them off.

“Yes, yes! I'll cook something nice for you both soon. Sorry I can't do a dinner tonight! We're beat!” Yunjin apologized, still waving.

And with that, Karina and Y/N made their way back next door. Karina unlocked the door with a quick twist of the key, both slipping into the familiar scent and neatness of their own home.

──────────────────────

INT. YUNJIN AND CHAEWON'S HOUSE — MOMENTS LATER

Chaewon flopped onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tucking her bob hair behind her ear.

“Finally,” she muttered, flashing Yunjin a small smile.

“Finally, a home with you,” Yunjin beamed, entirely missing the pointed tone of her wife’s complaint. She plopped down beside Chaewon, their knees bumping.

──────────────────────

CONFESSIONAL — LIVING ROOM

In front of the still-cluttered coffee table, Chaewon sat cross-legged, her body angled slightly to the right—her "good side" for the camera, of course.

“I meant it. Finally,” Chaewon deadpanned, tossing a thumb over her shoulder toward the chaos behind her. “My sister-in-laws were... a little bit of a help. Y/N was actually the biggest help, but mostly because she got excited about the pastel knives.”

She sighed softly, glancing off-camera.

“But our snacks... Yeah. Rest in peace.”

──────────────────────

INT. KARINA AND Y/N'S HOUSE — BEDROOM

Their master bedroom was a soft mix of lavender and grey—elegant, modern, and smelling faintly of the lavender candle Karina always lit depending on her mood.

If Karina was upset, she switched to the scented "Red Virgin Sacrifice" candle and the scented candles will be lit by Y/N one hour before Karina returned home from office.

Karina sat cross-legged on their bed, scrolling through a spreadsheet on her iPad, looking very pleased with herself and her young CFO status.

One of the many things to justify—she justified—her Penny Pincher tendencies.

The door creaked open and Y/N entered, happily munching on a big bag of strawberry-flavored mini wafers.

Karina glanced up, arching an eyebrow.

"What’s that?" she asked softly, pausing her scrolling.

Y/N popped another wafer into her mouth and grinned.

"This? This is food. Something that’s tragically rare in this house," she said dramatically, holding up the bag.

Karina frowned. "Don’t eat sweets in the bedroom. We'll get ants." She pointed her stylus pen at Y/N like a warning sword.

“I’ll clean up, Jjim-Jjim," Y/N sang out sweetly, using the special nickname she reserved only for Karina. A name she forbade anyone from using and defended jealously. "I got this from our sisters next door."

Karina's eyes narrowed.

“You mean you stole it from them? They just moved in, Y/N!”

Unashamed, Y/N nodded proudly and popped another wafer into her mouth, winking.

Karina chuckled and held out her hand.

"Give me some. But if we get crumbs on the bed, you're cleaning up."

Y/N straightened dramatically and bowed.

“Yes, my queen!”

Karina laughed softly, patting the empty space beside her. Y/N leapt onto the bed like an overexcited kid, settling in close and feeding Karina a wafer.

The room filled with the easy, quiet sound of laughter and stolen snack, the kind that comes from being married for six comfortable, ridiculous years.

Outside, the last traces of the sunset faded into night. The street was still, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Yunjin and Chaewon’s house stood proudly beside Karina and Y/N’s, their windows warm with light.

— EPISODE CLOSE

EXT. SEORAE GROVE - NIGHT

—NAVIGATION

> 2H 1F main m.list | > main m.list

> Next episode | > random Pinterest meme I found

— TAGLIST:

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