#you know for all this shit he did up until that point

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

Such a wondrous and painful thing to be loved

Remmick x female!reader

Warnings; somnophilia, non-con touching, non-con oral sex, messy kissing, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, bodily fluids, blood exchange, SELF HARM, SUICIDE, murder, vampire transformation, mentally unstable character, bad parent-child relationships, awful family dynamics, stalking, obsession. Summary: Remmick survives that night in Mississippi and wonders around the world for decades. Until he sees you, a quiet girl from a dysfunctional family. Word count: 11.8 k A/N: very little proofreading, sorry if there are mistakes. Don’t forget the check the warnings pls.

“Get the damn suitcase girl.” Your mother’s loathsome voice echoed in the open field as your father was walking back and forth between the old car and the house. You picked up the suitcase from your mother’s hand and looked up to the house your parents bought just few days ago. Your dad was swearing under his breath about the amount of things your mother packed, and your mother was screaming in the house about how everything was broken.

You took a deep breath as you watched your father enter the house to scream back at her. When you were left alone outside, you looked around the field. You were middle of nowhere with closest neighbours an hour away with car. No cars drove past. No electricity. It was quite literally pure silence. Nothing at all. The thought sent shivers down your spine as the cool wind surrounded you. The weather was chilling out here, grey clouds covering the sun light that barely reached the surface.

Your hair covered your vision for a moment with the wind and you felt like seeing a silhouette in the horizon, near that one big tree that was slowly dying yards away from your new home. When you were seeing clearly again, there was no one. You blinked once or twice before your feet moved to enter the house.

“Cannot believe you dragged us with you into this shithole.” Your mother spoke aloud, almost like a scream as she was trying to move the old, creaking rocking chair into the corner of the living room. You moved quickly to help her which she responded only with a grunt.

“Ya can go back to your own shithole if you want, bitch.” Your father said from the kitchen that was right next to the living room. You saw him standing next to the window and smoke his cheap cigarettes. Your mother said something under her breath which you did not pay attention to.

That was your normal at this point. Since you knew yourself, your father and mother hated one another. Yet none of them had dared to part their union as they knew no one could put up with their shit as each other did. You did not know if there was a time they loved one another. Maybe it was before you came into this world. You were not asking questions about their relationship or your family dynamics anymore. The questions were not fixing them, only giving you headaches.

You all sat down and ate dinner together. A dinner that was full of your silence and their bickering. After dinner everyone found a place for themselves in the old house and ended the night.

You had chosen the bedroom on the second floor, end of the corridor. It was a small room with a double sized bed, a small wardrobe and a very tiny desk that looked like it was about to collapse. You walked to the window that was at the foot of the bed and saw the backyard. Like before, it was just nothingness for kilometres. The sun was setting, and the chilling weather was getting proper cold.

You changed into your nightgown and got into bed as moonlight already filled the room. You knew you were going to struggle to sleep in your new bed, new room. The place gave you the creeps but you had no other choice. You were already missing your life in the city and would go back if you could. If your whole family wasn’t searched by the money collectors your father was in debt to. You knew about his gambling and alcohol addiction. And you knew how it always got him and rest of you in trouble. Your family was always in debt to somebody. A friend, a neighbour, the bank, the boss… but it was a different matter when they were trying to get either their money or your life. So the only choice left was collecting everything you owned and move into a countryside house that your parents bought in the time of life and death.

You had no friends to tell about your departure, no boyfriend to give you a goodbye hug. No one cared if you just disappeared or died. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. And your breathing slowed down with the exhaustion of the day.

—

A hand was on your thigh. The touch was cold as ice and soft as feather. It went up and down on your skin, caressing so gently that you felt your breathing get stuck in your throat. Then you felt nails, sharp nails like claws dig into your skin, deep enough to draw blood. You hissed with the pain before a hand covered your mouth. You opened your eyes immediately, only to be greeted by a pair of red eyes looking down at you.

Your heart was beating so fast that you wanted to cry with the pain in your chest. The hand on your thigh moved up, until it reached your stomach then your breasts. Cold, cruel fingers pinched your perked nipple, twisted it until your body trembled in pain again. The red eyes were so close to your face that you could not see the owners of them.

That was a demon on top of you, you were sure. A demon from hell, came to ruin you. Tears spilled from your eyes and dropped to his hand that was covering the half of your face. You heard him hiss when your tears touched his skin. Then you felt him press himself down, letting his body go on top of yours. You were sure you were going to die tonight, in seconds maybe. He was going to kill you or your heart was going to fail.

“Do you think you know what it means to be loved?” He leaned in closer, until there was only inches left between your eyes and his own. His whisper came in like a dagger, cutting, butchering trough your senses. You felt your skin tingle and burn. Your tears were burning your eyes and his touch on your skin was making you shake like you were freezing.

This was something unholy. This was something from hell. This was something that made you feel unclean.

“It is such a precious thing to be loved.” He spoke like a snake hissing. His words and his eyes were making you want to cry. Was this a punishment because you never knew how to love? Was God this unfair when he was the one who cursed you with this life?

His hand traveled to your throat and his finger wrapped around your delicate neck. The pressure made your breath get stuck in your lungs, unable to escape. It was then, the hand that covered your mouth lifted. You could not speak, you could not breath. Your lips were parted, your tongue slightly sticking out with the hope of getting any oxygen. Instead you felt something foreign on your tongue. Something that felt like sin.

His tongue was on yours. He was not kissing you, no. It was just his tongue entering your mouth and taking the last breath in your system away. Unlike his hands, his tongue was warm. So warm that it made your loins burn. His body between your legs, pressing himself hard against you and his warm tongue in your mouth made your underwear get wet in seconds. His tongue played with yours, his spit dripping into your mouth and making you open your lips more.

Your tongue traced over his lips and his teeth. You winced in pain when his sharp teeth poked the flesh of your mouth. Then you realised what you were doing. This was not a man on top of you, it was the devil. You heard him laugh when your body trembled under him in terror.

“What a beautiful girl waiting to be loved.” He whispered and you opened your eyes, drenched in sweat and moonlight filling your room, making you almost blind.

You sat ip on your bed in rush, hands finding your throat as your breathing echoed in your new room. Your whole body was burning and your legs were shaking. Your fingers found your underwear, and met with the wetness of your arousal, bringing the rosy tint of shame onto your cheeks.

You looked at your window, it was still dark outside early in the morning. Was it all a dream? No, a nightmare. A nightmare that felt too real. A nightmare that messed with your body. You threw the covers away and got up. Your gaze immediately found the blood stains on your white nightgown. You stopped breathing as you lifted the skirt up. There they were. Wounds that were freshly cut on your legs, blood smeared around them. Your heart started to beat faster, your fight or flight instincts kicking in. How could this be happening?

You jumped in the spot when your mother’s voice echoed in the house, reaching up to the second floor and you. She was calling your name. What time it was? Barely 5 in the morning and she was wide awake which was unusual.

“Come down, help me with this shit.” She spat out as you heard a loud knock at the front door. You quickly changed into your daily clothes and tossed the bloody nightgown into the corner of the room.

As you were going downstairs, you heard your mother and father talking, rather arguing about something again. They were at the entrance, the door wide open, wind blowing into the house and making the long white curtains of the living room float. They did not pay attention to you as you stood next to stairs and listened to their conversation about the kitchen sink not working. Then someone appeared behind your father, a man holding a box. Your father moved to side with the noise behind him and you saw him have the biggest smile you have ever seen in your entire life. Your cold, piece of shit of a father was smiling. Genuinely smiling at this man at the door.

“Come on in son.” Your father said and you looked at the man carefully for the first time. He had dark blonde hair, blue eyes that pierced trough your soul and a smirk that made the hairs on your neck stand up. He did not look at your father, or your mother. For those few seconds his gaze found you and never left you. You wanted to run up to your room and hide under your blankets. You wanted to get behind your mother and beg your father to shut the door to this man’s face.

He stepped into the house and left the box next to the door. Then your father turned to you and your mother, his hand on the man’s shoulder, patting softly. He was so gentle with him that it felt strange. It was like you were seeing another side of your father. It was like this was not your father at all.

“This is Remmick.” Your father uttered the words and your chest got tight. “He lives in the town. He helped me carry some things and gave me a lift.”

“My mama always said that I should help my neighbours, sir.” He said, and hearing his voice made you want to vomit.

“What a good son she had raised.” Your mother said, cheerfully, her earlier grumpiness long gone. Remmick smiled shyly at your mother's words and he kept his smile on his face until he looked at you again.

“My daughter.” Your father introduced you to Remmick. He gave you a small nod, his smile still stretching his lips and his eyes shining with something you could not name. He did not look genuinely happy nor kind. He looked like he had something sinister in his eyes. The way he gazed at you made your stomach twist.

“Hello.” You said, your voice cold compared to your parents who were watching the interaction between you two.

“Hi.” He said, his voice low and deep, coming from his throat. You felt chills run down your spine. “Nice to meet ya.” He extended his hand out.

You looked at his hand, your throat going dry. Then your palm found his own, his fingers hugging your hand and holding tight. Your lips parted with need to suck a breath in. The coldness of his hands made your body shake and the make the pit in your belly grow. It felt like he opened a black hole somewhere in you, and it was swallowing everything.

“Come, have breakfast with us, son.” Your father said as he kept patting Remmick’s shoulder. For a moment you saw Remmick frown in annoyance, as if your father disrupted something. Then his mask came back on, a smile widening on his lips. You looked at his lips for a second. They were pale and looked dry. You felt your mouth water.

“I cannot sir, I gotta head back. Thank you. Welcome to town.” He said as he escaped from your father’s hands and stepped outside. The sun was slowly rising and bringing the new day. Three of you stood at the entrance, your father and mother looking at him with a smile as he walked to his truck. You could only watch as suspicion and fear creeped into your heart. You heard your mother and father walk back into house as his truck’s engine started to work.

Before he drove away, he looked back at the door. When his deep blue eyes found your figure, standing, looking at him with curious eyes, he smiled again. A smile that was vastly different from the ones he gave to your parents. You felt breeze hit your skin as he looked up and down at you, like some wild animal examining his prey and trying to decide if you were worth the hunt. You shut the door as your breathing quickened. The sounds of his wheels filled your ear.

After breakfast you picked up your book and notebook, made your way outside. You could not stay in the house, with your parents who seemed to go back to their usual selves after Remmick left. For the whole breakfast, he was the only thought that occupied your mind. You could not erase the image of him looking at you, deep into your eyes and holding your hand in his own cold ones.

It was strange, very strange. For some reason meeting him right after waking up from that horrible nightmare made you feel sick. Your mother made some comments about you not helping her settling down in the new house but you did not say anything back as you left. You looked around the empty countryside. The sun was at the top, burning mercilessly and making it difficult to breath. It was a nice day compared the yesterday. You held your bag in your shoulder tighter and started to walk on the sidewalk. Your attention got caught by the big, old tree that was few acres away again.

You sat down by the tree and leaned against the trunk. It was nice under the shade. You grabbed your book and continued from the chapter you left. The sweet autumn wind cooled the heat of your body and the sounds of birds filled your ears. This was peaceful, you thought. Far away from the arguments and screams of your parents, far away from the questions that busied your mind, far away from the dangers of the world. It was just you and the silence.

“Hi.” You jumped with the voice of the stranger that came from somewhere close. When you turned around quickly, it was a young man in a jumpsuit and large hat, looking at you under his long eyelashes and smiling awkwardly.

“What the hell?” Your voice came out shocked and scared when you stood up and took a step away from him. His expression changed immediately and a look of concern filled the lines of his face.

“Sorry for scaring you.” He said as he took his hat off and pressed it against his chest in the kindest way possible. “I live down the town. I’m the preacher’s son.”

His accent was strong and from the clothes he was wearing, you could see that he was from this area. You took a deep breath before you introduced yourself.

“I’m Jimmy. Nice to meet you.” He said and looked at you shyly.

“You scared the hell out of me Jimmy.” You said as you sat back down. He giggled at your words before he took his place next to you.

“Sorry. I just got excited when I saw a new face around here. Not many people come to countryside these days.” He pointed at the open field as he spoke. You could see your house from the point you were at. And it felt liberating to be away from it.

“Is that so Preacher’s son?” You said with a small smile on your face. Jimmy laughed with your words before he looked at you. His eyes were emerald green and his eyelashes were dark as night. His nose was straight just like his defined jawline. You could see the freckles and little sunburn over his cheeks. God, you thought to yourself, he was very much beautiful.

“Are y’all planning on staying long?” He asked. You shook your head to confirm.

“It looks like it.” You answered as you looked back at the house. The thought of staying at this place with your parents for long time sounded dreadful.

“You should be careful around this place.” You frowned with his words. Then the pit in your stomach seemed to come back when you looked at him again and saw his shy, playful expression had faded away.

“What is that mean?” He seemed to not to know how to answer your question. Yet he knew he had to answer it now since he changed the mood of the conversation.

“How to say… there are things in this town, I mean that’s what people around says. I personally never saw something but we always lived by some rules.” He took a deep breath and pulled out a cigarette from his jumpsuit’s pocket before he started to speak again. “Don’t let anyone in that comes to your door after sunset. Don’t even open the door. Don’t talk to them.”

The seriousness of his voice sent shivers down your spine. He took a deep breath from his cigarette. You opened your mouth to speak yet no words came out of your mouth. What was that mean? Who could knock on your door after sunset when there was no one living around? Or why shouldn’t you let them in? Were people that dangerous in this area? You felt cool breeze shake the branches of the tree above you.

“It’s getting late. You should head back.” Jimmy said as he tossed the finished cigarettes to the ground. He got up and offered his hand for you to hold. His calloused hands felt warm against your skin. He grabbed your book and bag before he smiled and looked at your house.

“I can walk you home.” He said as you were fixing your dress. You shook your head to decline his polite gesture.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t want to bother you. Thanks for the company.” You said before you started to walk away. You could feel his eyes on your back as you got away from the tree. Before you were not too far away, he called out your name.

“Remember the things I said. Maybe it’s just superstitions but it wouldn’t hurt to follow them.” He said as he put his large straw hat back onto his dark brunette, wavy hair. The sun was setting and the orange lights were washing all over you. For a moment you saw his green eyes shine under the sun light and realised he could be one of the most beautiful humans you ever saw.

“I will.” You said with a small smile and walked away from him and the tree.

The days were coming to an end quickly with the upcoming winter and you hated it. It was getting dark very early and it was not getting any brighter until it was late in the morning. There was nothing to do other than reading, writing and sleeping. The days were warm enough yet the night was freezing cold.

After dinner with your parents who seemed to be very calm after you got back, you found yourself in your room, in your bed again. The blood covered nightgown was still in the corner, tossed around on the dirty floor. You could not bring yourself to pick it up and see the small blood stains again. For some reason not seeing them made them feel unreal and did not remind you of the nightmare. You got under the covers, bringing your book with you. it was easier to fall asleep when you were not thinking of other things.

As you were embraced by the comfortable arms of sleep, you felt like floating. There was a noise that sounded like wind in your ears. Every breath that you took in, you felt like rising up and up. The weight of your body was not there. The weight of your thoughts weren’t there. Everything was light as feather. There was a warmth all over your body. There was warmth between your legs. The tingling sensation under your belly made you squeeze your thighs in need for some sort of friction. You could feel yourself getting wet and your clit throbbing in need.

Then came the warmth of something unfamiliar. The wet, warm thing went between your folds and made you shriek like an animal in heat. You threw your head back when the unfamiliar tongue licked up and down between your folds. The lips that wrapped around your clit in the most delicious way brought you into the high levels of pleasure. He sticked his tongue into your clenching, awaiting hole, his skilful muscle moving in and out as if it was made for it. A loud moan escaped your mouth when his nose was nudging against your clit. The pleasure was too much that you tried to close your legs and get away to breath properly.

Yet his strong hands grabbed your hips harshly and he pressed his head deeper into your cunt. He was just breathing in your scent and getting drunk with your taste. You were about to pass out with his tongue deep in you. Then suddenly the tip of his tongue hit that one spot that made you scream until your vision went completely black and you stoped breathing. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as you tried to catch your breath and open your eyes.

It felt like you were in another dimension. It was so dark in your room that you could not even see your own hands.

“Look at me.” He said, his voice low and deep in the darkness of night. Your gaze met with pair of red eyes and the bliss of your extraordinary orgasm left you in seconds. You wanted to scream for help and get away from him. Yet your body was not moving nor a sound was coming out of your mouth.

“When you were young you wished that someone loved you. All those nights you cried yourself to sleep as a little child and expected someone to come to your room.” He said as he leaned closer to you, his cheek pressed against yours and his lips right next to your ear.

“Expected someone to ease your pain and soothe your heart. Yet no one came.” He whispered, his voice is cold. You could hear the smirk in his tone. He was smiling as he spoke your pain out. You wanted to throw up and cry until you could not move anymore.

“No one loved you. But I do.” He said as the weight of his body suffocated you. There was a musky smell that came from his body. It was dominating and off putting. He smelled like death and it was filling all your senses. Only thing you could feel on your exposed skin was him. Only thing you could smell was him. Only thing you could hear was his cruel words and only thing you could taste was him when his lips found yours. His mouth tasted like you and every life he had consumed to this day. You kissed him back with a hunger that scared you. His warm tongue entered your mouth just like it entered your hole moments ago.

His sharp teeth cut your lips and tongue yet you did not care. All you wanted was kissing him until he consumed you too. There was an urge in you that wanted to be eaten by him. You imagined him feasting on your flesh, his teeth crashing into your bones and your beautiful, thick blood flowing down his chin as he ate. The image made you moan into his mouth.

“I’ll come for you, little dove.” He said and you gasped as you rose in your bed from your sleep. Your hands came up your chest immediately to ease your fast breathing and heart beats. It was broad daylight outside. The sunlight was creeping into your room and warming your skin. You just looked at the white covers of your bed as the moments from your dream filled your mind. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you remembered his red eyes looking at you from between your legs. Your body trembled when you remembered him looking down at you as you crawled underneath him, your mouth covered in your own blood.

These dreams were getting so realistic that you could feel the effects of them all day. Your gaze met with the tossed nightgown in the corner. You wondered if you were getting possessed by some kind of demon or you were just going insane in the countryside. The second option seemed more reasonable.

You walked downstairs to be only greeted by your mom smoking in the kitchen, sitting by herself with the most sorrowful expression you have ever seen.

“Where’s dad?” You asked as you made yourself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. You heard her scoff as you sat down in front of her. Her under eyes were purple and hallow, her cheeks sucked in and her face pale like she was sick.

“God knows where that bastard is.” She said, her voice stern and angry. She finished her cigarette and lit another one right after. You looked at her with a confused expression as you ate your cereal.

“Did he not come back this morning?” Your mother nodded as she looked out of the window. Why this was a big deal this time? He would always leave and not come back for some days, drink himself to death on the streets and get into some sort of trouble.

“I’m sure he will be back by afternoon.” You said to reassure your mother. But she did not look like she was convinced. She just kept looking out of the window as her cigarette burned.

And in fact your father did not come back. At first you did not pay much attention to it. It was actually nice without him in the house. There was silence and no arguments which was something you craved for. But your mother grew restless every passing hour. She wanted to call everyone possibly could know where he was yet the phone wasn’t working. You were not surprised that there was no signal out here. Even though your mother was losing her mind over this for some reason, you did not mind, truly.

Until sun was setting and the countryside got swallowed by dark again, days after your father’s disappearance. Those few days you could truly sleep with no nightmares unlike your mother who did not even eat something healthy. That evening your mother took a sleeping pill and locked herself into her room. You were down in the living room, reading your book. You could not get yourself to sleep, your mind now occupied by your father and his strange absence that took too long this time.

It was quiet in the house. Yet it did not make you feel comfortable or peaceful as it usually did. There was not a single sound even outside of the house. No birds singing, no foxes screaming, not even crickets. It was just pure darkness covering your house. You could not look out of the window as you just kept reading your book. Your head down and facing away from the entrance.

Someone knocked on the door.

The sudden noise made you jump on the couch, your book falling into your lap. Your head turned to the closed door immediately. After the knock there was a silence as if both sides were trying to hear something from behind. You slowly got up and walked to the door. Your hand was reaching for the handle before the person at the other side knocked again. This time it was louder and harsher. You saw the door wiggle in its frame with the amount of force. You gasped and took a step away with shaky knees. A familiar voice from the other side called out your name.

“It’s me, dad.” Your father said with a cracked voice that sent shivers down your spine.

“Dad?” You asked as you got close to the door again. You heard his raggedy breaths.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, open the door and let me in.” He said, the words coming out of his mouth rushed and breathless. He sounded like he was in pain and the thought made your heart ache. Your hand went to the handle again, and your fingers grabbed the cold metal tight.

“Do not open the door!” You heard Jimmy shout from outside suddenly. Your hand on the handle froze as you heard screams and grunts on the other side. Your father was swearing, Jimmy was swearing back. You rushed to the window that was facing the front porch. Your father was on top of Jimmy, his face close to his neck. Jimmy was holding your dad away from himself by trying to push him trough his shoulders. You saw them rolling over the porch, fighting like animals. You could not speak or move.

Jimmy threw your father away from himself and rushed back to his small van. Your father distracted by the fall, his gaze found you watching them trough the window. He run towards you, his hands pressing against the glass, alongside his face right in front of yours. You felt like your world shatter, when you were greeted by a pair of red eyes looking back at you. Red just like the ones that gave you sleepless nights and brought endless amount of shame to you. Your breath got stuck in your throat as your father looked like some starving feral animal with drool flowing down his chin, his teeth sharp abnormally, and his eyes mirroring a demon.

“You used to listen to me when you were my little girl.” He said, his voice now sounding foreign to your ears. You shook your head as tears started to fall down your cheeks.

“Be my good little girl again and let your father in before this fucker-“ his words got cut with a sound of gunshot. You felt like your heart stopped beating. Your father’s eyes were locked with yours before more gunshots were heard. Last one was straight to his head, shattering his brain and making it explode right in front of your face. Blood and brain pieces hit the glass that separated you and your father. His lifeless body sunk into the ground. You could not look away as his blood was forming a pool beneath him.

Jimmy walked to him, the shotgun on his left hand, and a piece of sharp wood in his right. He didn’t look at you as he kneeled by your father’s body and stabbed him trough his heart with the wood. Your father’s body trembled, shaking as Jimmy sinked the wood deeper into his chest. When he was satisfied with his work, he looked at you for the first time since you heard him. There were drops of sweat flowing down his temples, his eyes looking tired and his face covered in blood. You didn’t know if it was his own blood or your father’s. He stood up and looked at you from the exact spot your father did moments ago.

Your tears were making your vision blurry. Your jaw was shaking and you did not know how long your legs could keep you standing. This was all a nightmare for sure. A very realistic one that you would always have since you came to this place. Jimmy gave you a look, as if he was pitying you.

“Do not open the door to anyone until sunrise.” He said before he walked to his van. You silently watched him walk away from your dead father’s body and you. Your chest was aching and your tears were keep flowing down your face without your control.

You couldn’t look at your father for last time before you started to walk upstairs. Your steps were silent, like a ghost as you walked passed your mother’s room and entered your own. Window was open. The chilling wind of the night was filling your room. The bed sheets were cold and your pillow was too hard to sleep on. It felt like laying on spikes. Your body was hurting, your soul was hurting. Yet there was no thought on your mind. Your piece of shit of a father was dead.

You woke to an eery silence of the house. You rose from your bed, catching a glimpse of your swollen eyes and purple under eyes in the mirror before you left your room. The long corridor of the second floor was empty, as it always was. You walked to your mother’s room and knocked on her door. Yet she didn’t answer. She was probably still asleep or didn't want to be disturbed, you thought to yourself. Then made your way to downstairs.

It was just like how you left last night. Your book was on the couch, next to your mother’s favourite blanket and your father’s favourite mug that you used to drink tea last night. You walked to the kitchen to open the window. The weather was cloudy and rainy. You wished to see a glimpse of sunlight yet walked away disappointed. You checked the fridge to make some breakfast for you and your mother yet the fridge was empty.

You sighed with annoyance before you walked upstairs again, to alert your mother of lack of food in the house and ask to go to shopping to town. You knocked on her door. There was no response. The pit in your stomach was there again. It was eating away your insides with worry and fear. You slowly opened the door and stepped into her room. She wasn’t here. Her bed was tidy, as if she never slept on it last night. The windows were shut, the air was suffocating with the lack of oxygen. You saw her glass of water, untouched on the nightstand next to her bed.

Your steps were slow and steady as you walked to the small bathroom in her room. The door was shut yet you could hear a sound of water dripping. You frowned in confusion as you reached for the handle. The first thing you saw was blood. The blood mixed into water that was flowing down the bathtub reached at your feet in seconds. Then the smell. The metallic, heavy smell of blood hit your nose. The sight of it came last. Your mother, your own mother was laying in the overflowing bathtub, in her own blood, her eyes wide open just like her mouth, facing the ceiling and looking into nothingness. You saw her slit wrists on either side of her, blood still dripping down in a thick form. You wanted to throw up yet nothing came out from your mouth. No words, no scrams, no cry. You silently looked and looked at her.

There was a strange silence in the house. Silence was something you had always craved. Yet in this moment you wished nothing more than the chaos that was always present in your household since you knew yourself. You wished to hear your parent’s argument again. Wished to carry your drunk father to his bed with your mother’s help. You wished to separate your mother and the neighbours fight. You wished to scream back at them when they decided to mess with you after getting bored of messing with one another. You craved for what you always knew. Was it possible to ask for the pain you knew because the comfort was a too much of a stranger?

You walked back to your room, your body was about to collapse. You sat on your bed. Maybe minutes, maybe for hours. You just sat there. Your eyes were on the nightgown that was tossed in the corner. You sat there until sun was setting, until darkness of the evil came rushing back to the countryside. You sat there until someone knocked on your door. The sound from downstairs echoed in your house. Your heart beats fastened again, your lips going dry.

“It’s me Jimmy. I came to take you to town. I spoke with my father. We’re concerned for ya.” He said as you walked downstairs silently. You stood right in front of the door, your heart at your throat, your palms sweating and drops of sweat flowing down your back.

“You said never open the door to anyone after sunset.” You spoke for the first time since yesterday, your throat hurting as the words left your mouth. You heard him grunt and swear under his breath. You looked around your living room to see if there was something you could use to defend yourself.

“Not me, I won’t hurt you. Would you not like me to take you somewhere safe? He might come any moment.” He said with clear worry and fear in his voice. You wondered what he was so scared of after he killed your father right in front of your eyes. What if it was also him who killed your mother? Why would he want to destroy your family, your life like this?

‘How to say… there are things in this town.’

His words echoed in your head. Maybe the things were him from the very start? You felt like throwing up when he knocked the door loudly. He was trying to open it. The tears formed in your eyes when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Open the damn door and let me help you. You will die out here.” He screamed as he tried to break the door by kicking it. Your feet carried you to the kitchen, to the backyard door that you kept shut since you moved here. You tried to open it yet it was locked. Jimmy threw another kick to the door and the lock broke down immediately, letting him in. You turned around and saw him standing at the entrance, his shotgun in his hand, looking at you who was struggling to open the back door. As he was about to step into the house, you screamed in terror and forced the door more. But he didn't come in. You dint hear any footsteps approaching you or his voice calling your name.

You slowly looked back at the front door over your shoulder. He wasn't there. There was in fact no one looking at you or stepping into the house. It was just darkness and cool wind blowing in. You walked to the door after grabbing a knife from the kitchen. You would kill him if you had to, if he didn't shoot you first. The porch was empty. His van was parked in front of your house, engine on yet no one at the driver seat. The small light at your porch was flashing fast but weakly.

You walked away from the porch, made your way to the right side of your house that was facing the main road to the town. You kept your back on the wall and moved silently, checking your back and corners every second to see if he was coming back or hiding somewhere. Was he trying to lure you outside so it would be easier to kill you? You shook with fear and cold weather. You weren’t feeling pain or hunger anymore. You wondered if you were going to survive this night and see the run rise one more time.

There were no cars passing. Was it possible to walk to town all that way and find someone to help you? Your eyes found someone in the darkness. There was someone standing next to the tree that you sat by just a day ago. He was shorter than Jimmy and had broader shoulders. Yet it could be just you trying to convince yourself. You wanted to walk to him and beg him to help you to get away from that psycho.

“There you are.” You heard Jimmy’s voice right next to you as you were still looking at the strange figure. You screamed in terror and started to run away before he could catch you. The man next to the tree turned to look at you with the shouts and screams. It was this Remmick guy. You felt relief settle into you as you run towards him. He smiled when he saw you, his eyes not even looking at what was behind you. He opened his arms as you got close. You were crying your lungs out when you found yourself in his arms.

“No! Get away from him!” Jimmy raged when he saw Remmick holding you against him. Remmick’s grip was tight and cold. His body against yours cooled you down, your breathing going back to normal and your heart beats getting slow. You felt Remmick move your body slightly.

“No, no, no preacher’s boy. We wouldn’t want to have you hurt this precious girl.” He said as his hands went up and down on your back. You took a deep breath of calmness when your face found a comfortable place in the crook of his neck. Just like you remembered, he smelled strange yet this time this smell brought you the feeling of safety and security. You didn’t question why you remembered how he smelled like. He giggled when you snuggled against him more. You were going to survive.

“You made me work hard for you, little dove.” He said, his voice calm yet playful. The peace lasted short when you heard the last words he said. You wanted to pull away yet he didn't let you. You were not thinking of Jimmy anymore. Only thing you could think of was Remmick. As if he was conquering your mind, your senses and making you unable to think of anything else.

“It is such a precious, magnificent thing to be loved.” He whispered to your ear. His warm, flaming lips moving down to your neck. You felt him leave a small, soft kiss on the skin of your neck. His kiss, his touch didn't feel unfamiliar. Your body knew his touch, your body knew his words.

“W-what?” You managed to bubble a word out of your mouth. He laughed at your state, his chest falling and rising against you.

“The preacher’s son Jimmy wanted to be your hero. But I cannot let him, unfortunately.” He said, his mouth right on your pulse. You felt your heart sink when you felt his sharp teeth on your skin. These were the teeth you had already felt on you for nights. They were not dreams. It was him.

“I met a preacher’s son long time ago. They’re always, how to say… interesting. Maybe he is still out there somewhere.” He said, his voice curious, still playful, scratching your brain. His arms got tighter around you, until you could’t breath anymore. You held his arms, tried to break away from him yet you couldn't do anything against his inhuman strength. You wished that Jimmy would shoot both of you in this moment.

Your vision went black when you felt sharp, stinging, burning pain on your neck. It was so unbearable that you couldn't even scream when his teeth sinked deep into you. You could feel blood flowing out of you, filling his mouth and rest spilling down his chin. The coldness of his fangs burned the fresh wound on your neck. The air that was hitting the wetness of your blood made you dizzy. He sucked on your neck like he was starving as his hands roamed all over your body.

That wasn't a demon or it wasn't you getting possessed by some kind of entity. It wasn't your brain making up things either. It was Remmick from the very beginning. You realised it was him Jimmy was warning you about. It was his voice that was making your heart skip a beat in the dead of the night. It was his hands touching your body and making you tremble under him.

“You taste better than any mortal I have ever tasted, little dove.” His voice echoed in your mind. You didn’t know if he was actually talking or you were going insane at this point. Your legs gave up but his arms held you up in the air. You were floating in his arms as he started to kiss the wound on your neck. The pain was too much that your heart beats slowed down alongside your breathing. Your ears were ringing, your mouth going dry.

“I’ll love you forever.” He whispered as your consciousness slipped out of your body. Everything went black. No sound, no light. It was pure nothingness. Your senses were dull and you couldn’t feel your body. Everything was too light around you. There were no feelings. You were not scared anymore. Nor you were calm.

When you opened your eyes again, the darkness of the night seemed brighter than any other time. Your eyes scanned the field, seeing small animals hidden amongst haystacks. Your ears filled with the sounds of small crickets, birds breathing on the tree branches, people laughing in the distance, your mother’s blood dripping down in the bathtub. You felt the dryness of your throat first. It hurt so much that you wanted to scream out. Remmick rocked you gently in his arms. He was saying something yet you could not focus on his words.

The delicious smell of him hit your nose so suddenly, with the wind carrying his scent to you. You pushed and manage to get Remmick away from you. There he was. The preacher’s son. The poor boy Jimmy who only wanted to help you and risked his life for you. He was standing not so far away from you, frozen and shaking in fear. You wondered if your eyes were shining with the soul of devil within you. Remmick was in you from now on, from the moment he sinked his teeth into. From the first moment he laid his eyes on you. From the first moment he tasted your skin.

You took a step towards Jimmy only for him to raise the shotgun to you. You did not care if you were going to die. The urge to feed yourself was so strong, almost blinding. You took another step, and he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit your shoulder. It felt like a bee sting that was spreading over your flesh. Then the bullet slowly fell off the wound, dropping to ground. You heard Jimmy gasp, start to whisper prayers under his breath as you walked to him. Your hands found his shoulders, forced him to get closer.

“Jimmy…” You almost pleaded as your teeth cut trough his skin. He screamed and tried to push you away in terror, yet everything was happening too fast. Before you could even stop yourself from harming him, his tasty blood touched your tongue. And you felt a wave of energy travel trough your body. Life was breathed back into you with his sweet liquid of life. You felt it burn trough your throat and mix into your system in seconds. Every drop of his blood was burning your insides in the most pleasurable way possible. You drank it like madwoman. It was dripping from your mouth, escaping from the corner of your mouth. You tried to catch it as if your life was depended on it, licking everything possible. You were so hungry, the feeling in your stomach hurting you, making your headache and your fangs sizzle with soreness.

“That’s enough little dove. You drained the poor boy.” Remmick said as he laughed. He wrapped his one arm around your waist and picked you up easily. The lifeless body of Jimmy dropped to ground as he slipped away from your grasp. You saw him fall, his face pale, his lips colourless, his once cheerful, shy eyes looking dead more than ever. You jaw dropped, tears filled your eyes as Remmick carried you away as if you were piece of feather. You tried to push him away, get away from his touch but he looked unbothered by your attempts.

“We can go back to your house and spend the day there until sunset. What do you say little dove?” He asked, his face close to yours, his eyes twitching with mischief. He disgusted you beyond imagination with the smirk on his face.

“Get away from me!” You said, your voice coming out like an animal growl. His eyebrows raised in curiosity when you tried to scratch his face. He put you down suddenly when two of you were on the porch, holding your arms tight enough to break your now very strong bones. Every sensation was still too new. You could still smell Jimmy’s blood, still hear the noises coming from afar, still feel Remmick’s bite burn and ache.

“I have waited for you for so long.” Remmick whispered with a gentle voice you didn't expect to hear from him. His fingers found your face, caressing your cheek that was wet because of your tears. His fingertips that once felt ice cold now felt like they were belong on your skin.

“Wondered around for centuries to find someone like myself only to find no one. Until you.” He said as his eyes never left your face. He was looking deep into your eyes, seeing your deprived soul behind them. You wanted to get away yet your body was frozen as if he put some spell on you. What was this nightmare? Had God abandoned you in this countryside? Had he left you into the arms of this devil?

“I am no devil.” Remmick said, mirroring your words. “I only have love to give you, little dove.”

“You have taken my humanity from me.” You said, your voice shaking with sorrow and rage. The soft look on his face disappeared in seconds. His hand on your face grabbed your cheek tight, bringing your face closer to his own.

“What a humanity that was?! That humanity killed my people, destroyed cities, burned children, enslaved men. There’s nothing glories about that humanity that you grieve.” His words were full of poison as he spat them out. His eyes were scanning your face, looking at every detail possible. Under his gaze, you felt your skin burn. The bite he left on your neck sizzled again, making you hiss.

“I will show you great things. Things you could never imagine in your human life.” He said as his body was pressed right against yours. You felt your skin tingle against him, making you shift uncomfortably under his touch.

He brought his face closer, until there was few inches between your lips. His fingertips were pressing into your flesh, leaving possible marks on you. The thought of carrying the marks he left on you made you thighs clench. As if he was reading your mind, he held you tighter, his nails cutting trough your skin like it did nights ago.

“Let me show you my most precious thing. My love…” He said as his lips gently touched the corner of your mouth. His short moustache tickled your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. You wanted his lips on you but he wasn't kissing you. His mouth was slightly open as his lips went right and left at the corner of your mouth. His warm breath was licking your face, making you forget everything that you had on your mind just seconds ago.

His lips captured your bottom lip first. He gently kissed your mouth as if you were a piece of glass. Then his tongue slowly made its way into your mouth. With this new body, the taste of his tongue was exquisite now. He tasted like wave of destruction, the plague, the angel of death, your sweet blood that he drank minutes ago. He tasted like the end and foreverness. You kissed him back like an animal, hungry, wild and in need for killing. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, pressing your body against him so hard that you thought your bones were crushing into one another.

He first got rid of his own clothes. His pale, smooth skin was shining under the cold moonlight. You felt your mouth water as his hands ripped your clothes away. The stretch of the ripping clothes on your skin made the wetness between your legs grow bigger. Before you knew what was happening, his hand was in your hair, gently tugging the strands to expose your neck. He leaned closer and breathed your scent in. Then his wet lips left a shaky, small kiss that made you moan out loud in frustration. His touch was so gentle that it made you feel like you were walking on a thin sword. You wanted to get cut by that sword more than anything in this moment.

“I watched you, listened to you, touched you. I waited to make you mine so patiently.” He whispered as if he was talking to himself. His hand on your hair pulled harsher this time, making you fall onto your knees. He followed you down soon after, laying you onto the ground. You didn't care about the hard, uncomfortable surface of the porch. Only thing you cared was him between your legs, looking down at you like you were a part of his whole being.

“I won't be gentle.“ he said, as he left a kiss to your temple and caressed your hair. You did nothing but nodding as he waited for your reaction. His eyes didn't leave your face as he grabbed his dick and aligned himself with your awaiting, clenching wet entrance. The first stretch took your breath away. Everything was too foreign to your body. His tip went in and stretched your walls that sent a wave of shock trough your whole body. He kept looking at you and you could not take your eyes off of him. It was like your were one with him in this moment. Your very existence was full of him. Your insides were full of him.

His dick made a room for itself as he mercilessly stretched you out. When he was all the way in, his tip close to your cervix, a cry came out of your throat. Your chest was hurting and your eyes were burning. You felt sick. Pleasure of the pain was making your vision cloudy. You could not think anything other then him being inside you, against you, on top of you. He rolled his hips once and you couldn't control the noises that came out of you. It sounded like an animal crying out in pain, a shriek of sorrow, a moan that was full of pleasure and sin.

“Let it go.” He whispered and captured your lips once more. You moaned into his mouth as he started to roll his hips again and again. His skin was slapping against your skin, the sounds that came from both of you echoed in the field. There in the darkness, two wild monsters, seeds of the devil were making love.

His pubic bone was pressed against your clit, going up and down and providing the friction you were craving. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and bit you again on the same spot. This time the pain of his teeth made you shake in ecstasy. You were scratching his back, drawing blood and sinking your nails deep enough to make him hiss. You could feel your blood once again fill his mouth. You felt your tongue go dry, your fangs get sore in need of biting something. You could feel your thirst get worse as his hips slapped against yours, your walls clenching around him tight and wet.

“Go on, bite me.” He whispered between his bites. Your eyes widened with his words and the pit in your stomach made you tremble.

Without even thinking you took a long lick of the skin of his neck and bit him. He hissed and you felt him twitch inside you, going deeper in you as if it was possible. His ancient blood touched your tongue and you felt euphoric. It was much different than Jimmy’s blood. Remmick’s blood was full of wisdom and evilness. It was bitter and addicting. You felt it get into your veins, mix into you in seconds and fill you up with darkness.

“Harder!” You moaned as you licked the bite on his neck like a lunatic. His thrusts became harsher, leaving your skin burning and bruised. He was digging into you, making you squeal and cry his name out.

“Fucking hell woman!” He grunted as he held your thighs and pushed them against your bare breasts. He pressed his body against yours, trapping you between him and ground. With the new position, you could feel him deeper in you. Your walls were clenching and getting wetter and wetter with every thrust. Your mixed liquids were flowing down his balls to the ground, pooling under your hips.

His name was like a prayer on your lips. In this moment he was all you knew, with your new body and mind, with your new nature. He was your creator, as he eliminated the first one that trapped you into a miserable life. You hugged his shoulders and kissed him again. The kiss was mixing with your tears that were flowing down your cheeks. He moaned when he tastes the salty liquid. He was liking everything better when it pained you. How sick and twisted someone could be?

“You tasted way better than your father.” He whispered, making sure you heard it clearly. Your hips that were thrusting up and meeting him halfway stopped. Your tears dried on your cheeks and your arms fell to your sides from his back. He buried his face into your neck as his thrusts started to get sloppy and carelessly deep. Your face was blankly looking at the black sky that was full of stars. He was going in and out, his hands holding your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips sucking on the sweet spot on your collarbone.

He was terrorising you from the moment you had came to this place. He was haunting your dreams, making you doubt what was real and what was not. He had taken your father first, turning him into a monster like himself, like you. Then he had taken your mother, on an early cold morning. He wasn’t satisfied with any of this until he had taken your humanity, your innocence and mercy from you. He had made you kill an innocent person who only wanted to help you. And now he was never going to let you go. You felt your chest tighten with the thought of spending one more day with him.

His moans got louder, eventually turning into screams of pleasure. With one last hard roll of his hips, he spent himself in you, painting your clenching walls white with his dead seed. You wanted to throw up as he was still caressing your skin and kissing your neck. He was smiling against you, his dick still inside you, keeping you full. Your eyes turned to the side and you saw horizon line lighten slightly by the rising sun. Your breathing stop. It was going to be bright soon.

“I want to be on top.” You said as you ran your fingers trough his dirty blonde locks. His dick started to harden inside you with your words. Then he immersed flipped you over, laying himself on the ground that was warmed by your body. He was already hard when you aligned his tip at your entrance. The stretch was better than first time, going easier with the slick of your folds. You went down until he was all the way inside you. The new feeling took the breath out of your lungs. Your loins were fitting together like pieces of puzzle. He looked at you under his eyelashes, a sweet smile on his face as his hands grabbed your breasts. You started to roll your hips without letting your body adjust to him first.

“I love you.” He whispered breathlessly, the smile on his face never fading away and his eyes dropping in the bliss of your body. You held onto his chest as your movements got faster. Your whole body was burning with the knowledge of sun slowly rising in the horizon. He was lost in you, unaware of the new day coming.

With the force of your knees you started to bounce up and down, taking Remmick’s breath away. His legs were shaking just like your knees that were about to give up. Your body was tired but your mind was wide awake. You were not going to spend the rest of your life with him. You were not going to let him go either. He had to pay for what he did to you and even if it meant to die with him, you were willing to do so.

“I love you.” He said again. His eyes were closed, hands on your legs, his chest rising slowly with the deep breaths he was taking in.

“Come here.” You said when the friction on your clit made you tremble on top of him. You were going to come. He opened his eyes and rose up to hold you on his lap. Your arms were wrapped around one another, body tangled and hips meeting in order to get satisfaction out of one another. He pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing and making your eyes tear.

“I love you… I love you…” he kept repeating as your legs started to shake and your eyes rolled back into your skull. You saw flashing lights and stars in your vision as your clenching walls made him grunt like an animal. The knot in your belly exploded and pleasure burst into your veins. You cried out, tears flowing down your cheeks and he licked every each one.

“I love you.” He said as you kept rolling your hips. You could not say that you loved him back. Though of uttering those words disgusted you. You guided his mouth back to the wound on your neck which he gladly accepted once again tonight. You sinked your own teeth onto his shoulder. Your bodies exchanged blood and pleasure at the same time. With that he was sent over the edge and his orgasm hit him for the last time.

Two of you slowly laid back, you on top of him, him still deep inside you. You could feel his seed leaking out of you. The feeling made your legs shake and your clit throb. You feasted on him from the last time. You were going to die with his taste on your tongue and his seed in you. No matter how hard you tried to get your self away from him, you were his.

The sun lights came first. Then the warmth. It was sweet sensation first. As you drank from one another, it warmed your skin. You didn’t look up to sunlight but the feeling was bringing you peace maybe for the last time in your life. The thought made you want to cry. Remmick slowly raised his head up from your neck but you didn’t let him.

“Please drink more.” You said as you pushed his back to your skin. Your loins were burning. You smelled burning flesh. Then felt the pain on your skin. Remmick’s skin was starting to turn red, looking raw and painful. You were feeling his pain on top of your own. Tears kept running down your cheeks as he kept drinking your blood. He was consuming you as if he was drunk on your essence. He was keep repeating the same few words even when the sun was getting higher in the sky;

‘I love you.’

The sun was brighter today. It was warmer, more blinding. The sun was rising for you today. Today, sun was rising to clean the world from evil. And you had accepted without fighting against. You pressed your head against Remmick’s shoulder and started to hum a song that was from a distant memory. A song that was sang by a mother, to her baby. A lullaby it was. This wasn't your memory, no. Your family was full of too much hate and contempt towards one another. You had never truly loved your parents and even though they had little love for you in their heart, they had never liked you as a person. All of your memories were full of arguments and screams.

The lullaby was from Jimmy’s memories. The same one that his mother sang to him nights before she had died. The same lullaby he sang by himself to remember her. And it was the same one that he had imagined to sing to his kids one day.

Sun lights were coming directly now. You could feel them getting under your skin and make their way into you in order to destroy your existence. Remmick shifted beneath you, as if his consciousness was coming back. He tried to push you away yet you didn't let him. With your last strength you held him tight and close to you.

“What are you-“

“You said you loved me more than anyone ever did. I want you to die with your love.” You said as you looked into his eyes. There it was again, his mischief smile that made your blood boil with rage.

He tried to get away from you but you were not letting him go. Sunlights were frying his skin now. The smoke that came from your bodied filled the air with the smell of burning flesh. The flames were coming from your insides. It was burning from your belly to your throat to your bones. You wondered if every death was this painful.

The flames got bigger and higher. Only thing you could see were orange-red flames and his eyes that never left your face. He was looking at you as if he was trying to understand if he was actually dying. Being on this earth for centuries, seeing empires rise and fall, being the most powerful being on the planet and take thousands of lives wasn’t something someone could leave behind easily.

“After everything I did for you?” He said, but you could not tell if he was actually talking or you were hearing things as you died.

“I never wanted any of this. ” You said, tears flowing down your cheeks and your heart aching.

“Why?” His voice is now full of sadness and his eyebrows raised up in hope. The possibility of you never loving him was now crossing his mind for the first time. You didn’t love Remmick. Yet the problem was, you couldn’t hate him either. You knew you were supposed to. And the guilt of not hating him was eating you away.

“Only someone who knows how to love could hate.” Remmick’s grip on you disappeared when the words left your mouth. “Anything other than hate and love is nothing at all.” He shook his head as if your words getting carved into his head. He pulled away from you, facing the creeping sunlights from the horizon line. You looked at him, and gasped with his beauty. His body was like a statue against the shimmering lights. You wondered what was the last time he properly seen the sun.

He looked at the horizon line, didn’t speak for some time until you touched his cheek. His side profile was perfect with his red eyes shining and reflecting the upcoming light. His mouth was covered in your blood and his body was covered in bites and scratches all over. The corner of your mouth curled up with proudness of your work. You were truly going insane.

“I don’t remember the last time someone loved me.” He whispered. Yet the weights of his words were so loud that it was heard in the whole field.

“I searched for something that could make me feel close to what I had before I was this.” He said as his hands pointed at himself.

“But I have been on this earth too long. Nothing, no one of my time survived yet I am here.” He said as he finally turned to you. You realised in that moment how similar you were. Since you spent your life trying to fit into a world that never tried to make you feel included. Your parents were dead, you had no home to go back. Your hands were covered in the blood of an innocent.

“Maybe we weren’t meant t survive this long.” You said. He smiled and nodded.

You did not know if he said something after that. It felt burning, then cold. Then nothing at all. Your existence turned into a bunch of ash and wind took it away.

As the sun rose in the sky, there were ashes on the ground of the porch. There were torn clothes, and blood. Not so far away from the house, there was a dead man, laying on the haystacks, a shotgun by his side.

A naked man who was covered in burns disappeared into the house, seen by the cars passing by. Yet they only found the bodies of the woman out of the family that moved into the house and the preacher’s poor son. There were no traces of the father and the daughter. Not a single trace of any body else other than them.

A/N: hope you liked it. Feel free to share your thoughts on it.

[oldermenfucker]

You’re losing me | Dr. Robby

summary: he doesn’t notice how his behavior in The Pitt is making you fall from his arms, until the consequences of his actions catch up with him.

warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst with a happy ending, fluff, Robby doesn’t even realize he’s being a dick until it’s a tad bit too late, fem!reader, resident!reader, Abbot!reader (yes she is Jack’s younger sister), age gap (she’s late 20s/early 30s & Robby early 50s), p in v sex, lots of praise, mentions of blood & trauma (it’s The Pitt soooo), English isn’t my first language<3

word count: 9.8k+

an: hiiii so this is my first fic in this fandom hopefully you guys like this!!! More fics of our gorgeous Dr. Daddy and his bestie our other Dr. Daddy will be coming your way<333

Reblogs & comments are always appreciated!💕✨

You hate the quiet days of ER, as peaceful as it can get through. You crave the adrenaline rush you get from a trauma running through the doors, half bloody and half dead, but today even those cases can’t make your blood pressure as high as the scene in front of you does.

  Collins chuckles at something Robby says, snorting and putting her hand up in surrender, patting his biceps before she leaves him alone. And him? He smiles back, his wrinkles around his eye deepening as his eyes follow her.

He is doing exactly what he labeled as ‘unprofessional’ behind closed doors with her, making you mad at him. He told you you must keep your relationship a secret or it would turn into The Pitt’s hottest gossip, and he didn’t want that, and given how most of the nurses and doctors know about his past relationship with Collins, it upsets you beyond belief.

You took this residency program to be with your brother and Robby, and also to get a steady job in the same hospital. Jack helped you tremendously with your transfer, making sure everything was perfect for you to take the morning shifts with your boyfriend, all so you could spend time with him more often.

  But now, you are rethinking your decision to the point of no return. It has been months since you started your shifts here, and from the very beginning, Robby treated you like shit. Always hard on you, always criticizing your diagnosis, always on your back with a harsh comment.

  You played it off like everyone else did, making sure to nod and say ‘yes, sir’ and move towards the next patient. But every word stung, and when you would tell him at night when you cuddled in his bed, he would brush it off and act like nothing happened.

  It was fine at first, or at least you tried to deny what it truly was, but now, seeing him being so lighthearted with everyone in a slow shift while he barks orders at you left and right tears your heart into pieces, and worse, the smiles are always thrown in the direction of every doctor and nurse but you.

  You look away as best as you can, trying to find a good case as you lean on Robby’s workstation, tapping your fingers in a rhythm as you scan the trauma board, biting your lip as you hear his footsteps approaching.

  “Dr. Abbot,” he says, standing behind you while he looks between you and the board, “What are you looking for?”

  “Something to take the edge off,” you don’t mean to sound snappy, but the words come out harsher than intended, and you take a deep breath because with the uncomfortable silence between the two of you, you are sure he has raised an eyebrow at you, waiting to come up with a snarky comment, “I’ll take the biker, Santos is with me.”

  “Good,” he nods, pushing his fists into his pockets, but you don’t bother yourself to even glance at him, pushing past him as you drop your stethoscope around your neck, calling for Santos to follow you to the trauma bay.

  You do not turn around to see Robby’s reaction; he is probably stunned by the way you ignored him. You have never done that despite how he treats you; it just never settled right inside you to be mean to him, but that was enough to set your mood off for the rest of the shift.

  “Alright, what do we have here?” One question, and you get bombarded with answers, and you get your hands on the patient to stabilize him. Santos answers your questions and helps you with everything you might need.

  You are light on your feet, keeping everyone in check in the trauma room to make sure the best treatment is given to the poor man who had crashed his bike. Santos listens closely, being snarky and witty about her comebacks, but helps you as best as she can, nonetheless.

  “How’s the patient?” You watch as Santos starts to intubate the biker, her hands slightly shaking, ignoring Robby’s presence as he gloves in and moves next to stand next to you, listening to the nurses update him on the patient’s status.

  “I’m in!” Santos beams, looking up at you, and you smile back, giving her a quick thumbs up before you turn around, suddenly chest to chest with Robby.

  He looks down at you, a silent question hanging in the air between you as he keeps staring back, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. You take a deep breath in response, taking off your gloves roughly, making a loud smacking sound of plastic echo in the trauma room.

  “He’s stable and ready to go to the OR,” you fist the gloves in a ball, pulling the white gown off in a hurry, taking a step around Robby to avoid his burning stare, “Santos helped a lot.”

  “You called the shots without telling me first.” It’s not a question; it is a statement, and he does not look happy at all. “You are still a resident, you have two more years to go! Why are you being so reckless?”

  “The patient was dying, Dr. Robby, I had to do what was necessary—“

  “You were unsupervised—“

  “She wasn’t,” Collins steps into the room, looks between the two doctors with a small smile, pointing at Santos, who stands awkwardly next to Collins, pouting slightly and rocking on the balls of her feet, “Dr. Santos came to me and told me about this case.”

  You gape at her, fighting off a small grateful smile before feeling your heart thumping in your ribcage as if it’s ready to jump out; you are angry at him, furious even, and Robby is just as hot-headed if not more. You can see the dark glare in his eyes as he looks between Collins and you, finally settling them on you.

  “Dr. Collins is also a resident, you must consult an Attending. Don’t ever do that again,” he whips out his own gloves, his usual warm brown eyes hold nothing but anger, “You are lucky he is stable.”

  “I am not lucky, Dr. Robby.” You take another step closer, feeling his hot breath fanning against your face, “I am a good doctor, hell, even a great doctor. I can do it on my own.”

  “Trauma coming through in two minutes! Drowning victim!” Dana’s shout stops Robby from firing back a response to you.

  “We’re not done yet,” he points his finger at you, scoffing when you look up, trying your best not to break down in front of everyone. With that, Robby jogs toward the gurney Langdon is pulling into another trauma room, leaving you, Santos, and Collins alone.

  “Walk with me, Dr. Abbot?” Collins smiles, muttering to Santos to go find another patient before she waits for you to join her at the door, watching you closely as you slam your gloves and gown into the trash, using the sanitizer machine on the wall before you give her a quick smile.

  “Sure.”

  You both walk to the nurse station, standing shoulder to shoulder while you look at the trauma board. You are nervous; how can you not be? Collins is Robby’s ex. She is gorgeous, intelligent, and a very talented doctor. But what is making you shake slightly is how she stepped in to save you from your boyfriend’s scolding.

  “Thank you…” You mumble quietly, or as quietly as you can in a chaotic ER, giving her a grateful yet awkward smile as well.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she sighs, pushing her hands into the pockets of her jacket, shrugging before she continues, “I’ve been in your shoes a few years ago. It’s exhausting.”

  “What?” You ask, confused and dumbfounded, your lips parting in surprise when she side eyes you playfully, shaking her head and laughing slowly, “What do you mean? What are you laughing at, Dr. Collins?”

  “You guy are not as subtle as you think you are,” she sighs, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she looks back at the board, squeezing your shoulder, “I can see how you look at him, I used to do the same, having high hopes that one day he’ll quit being harsh on me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try to play it off cool, acting as if you have no idea what she is saying, but Collins sees straight through your lie, raising her eyebrows at you with boredom. You sigh, dropping your head on her shoulder, “Fine! Yes, he’s my boyfriend, or at least I thought he was. It is… tiresome to deal with his mean words every day.”

  “He’s been riding you for so long,” she sighs too, patting your arm gently, “It’s no excuse, but… he thinks if he pushes you away, he can maintain his professional standards or whatever he calls them. He’s done it before, and he’s doing it again.”

  “I know what he is trying to do,” you shake your head, exhaling shakily, “He doesn’t want anyone to find out he’s dating his resident, and Jack Abbot’s younger sister, so he goes on a spiral to be mean to me and put a distance between us.”

  “Well, he’s doing a poor job at both,” she snorts, letting go of you to reach for an iPad, going through different cases to choose one for you. “He is an idiot, you just have to learn to live with it if you wanna work here.”

  “Sometimes I think he hates me.”

  “Hey, no—“

  “What are you two up to?” Dana interrupts Heather, leaning on the station behind her as she looks between the two of you, “What has he done this time?”

  “He’s being unreasonable to Dr. Abbot.”

  “Not unreasonable, but… just how an attending with a ‘Robinavitch’ last name would be,” you try to crack a joke, but Dana winces and gives you a sympathetic look.

  “C’mon, I’ve known him more than your experiences combined. He is being a dick to you because he is scared, give him hell for it, alright? Now go play doctors until I knock some sense into your loverboy.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Collins says, pointing at one of the trauma rooms, “South fourteen, Twenty-four years old male with a twisted ankle — probably sprained. Take this, Dr. Abbot, it’ll give you a break until you are well enough to come back.”

  “Thank you,” you say, grabbing the iPad from her hands, nodding as you walk towards the patient’s room, head swirling with different thoughts about what those two women just told you.

  You are aware of what Robby is doing, or at least you think you do. It makes sense to some extent; he is a professional man, a doctor who runs The Pitt and barely survives every day, and yet, he gives you the worst treatment out of everyone because he doesn’t want to reveal your relationship to the world.

  And it breaks your heart to tolerate his mean words and being the punching bag to his sour moods, receiving all the blows just because you are in arm’s reach — what makes it worse is that he does not even realize how bad his words are, and when you confront him at night after his long hot shower, he only shrugs and tells you if Dana found out about you, then everyone can.

  Excuse after excuse.

  You roll your shoulders back, knocking on the door as you enter the trauma room, finding Princess going through the patient’s file and waiting for you to join them.

  “Good morning, I’m Dr. Abbot!” You smile and get to work, sitting on the chair next to the bed as you examine the guy’s ankle, looking for inflammation and bruising as you try to distract him from the pain.

  “Well, you’re lucky it’s not broken,” you nod, taking your gloves off before turning toward Princess, “Send him to radiology to get an X-ray, I’m sure it’s only a sprain, but let’s take a look anyway.”

  “Dr. Abbot!” Mel barges inside the room, panting slightly as she looks at you with wide eyes, “New patient! Forty-five-year-old female with a head concussion and a broken stick in her upper arm. She fell on the fence while she was trying to clean the windows of her house.”

  “Let’s go,” you stand up, dropping the gloves you used on the previous patient into the bin, sanitizing your hands before running towards the gurney, finding Mohan and Robby discussing different procedures, “How is she?”

  “Pupils dilated, unresponsive—“ you try to focus on what Samira is saying, you are, but Robby’s gaze moves from the patient to you, watching you closely as you and Mohan start to stabilize the patient, but it is awfully hard to not get distracted with how intense his presence is.

  “She’s having a heart attack—“ you rush to lower the back of the bed, flattening the patient before scissoring her dress, baring her chest to Mel to put the pads on, Mohan increasing the voltage to two hundred, waiting for everyone to step back, “Clear!”

  The patient does not respond to the shock. Mohan and Robby work together to keep her blood pressure high, but all of a sudden, the lines of the monitor go flat, and the beeping stops.

  “Asystolic…” Mel whispers, standing next to you as Mohan takes off the pads, waiting for her Attending’s orders.

  “Start compressions!”

  You put one knee on the bed, interlocking your fingers before starting to push on the patient’s chest, huffing with each move as everyone waits in the room with bated breath.

  “Hold compressions,” Robby tells you, waiting to see if the heart restarts, but when he sees the flat line again, he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, “Push an epi and resume compressions again.”

  You begin to push down on her chest, body, and shoulders, moving with each press, trying to keep your breathing in check while you look at Robby to say something, anything.

  But the line falls flat again after you stop, but before you can bend down to restart CPR, Robby’s voice stops you, “She’s dead,” he announces, looking down at his watch before he exhales deeply, “16:38…” 

  You step down from the bed, throwing your head back with your hands on your hips, shaking your head as you silently mourn the loss of your patient.

  “Doctor Abbot, a word?” 

  Your fingers tighten at your hips, and when you look back at him, you find him already leaving towards the break room, not even waiting for you to follow him. With a scoff, you move behind him, ignoring Mel and Samira’s confused stares.

  “What is it—“

  “What was that?” He stops as soon as you both are in the break room, pressing his lips into a thin line as he intertwines his fingers behind his neck, letting out a humourless chuckle.

  “What was what, Robby? I did what you told me—“ you try to answer as best as possible, but when he turns around, his chocolate eyes overflowing with disbelief.

  “Who does a compression like that? They were too weak, not deep enough, and they were not helping! Just a waste of time on a patient we could have saved—“

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” You raise your voice, pointing to his chest before fisting your hands and lock your hands next to your body, “They were fine, just as they should have been! Don’t put this loss on me, she had a head concussion and god knows how many wood chips in her bloodstream. We didn’t even get to check that—“

  “You are messing up real bad today.”

  “This case was supervised by you, Doctor Robinavitch,” you spit the words out, gone the calm girl who would brush his horrible words off, now replaced with a furious woman, “How hypocritical of you to say belittling isn’t a good way of teaching and yet, you are insulting and belittling me, your girlfriend, Robby!”

  “This is my workplace, I am your Attending, not your goddamn boyfriend,” he replies, his tone dangerously low, and for the first time, he seems to be taken back by his own outburst, dropping his head as he takes a long breath.

  “Fine,” your lips quiver, voice breaking slightly, which makes Robby’s head snap upwards and his eyes widen as he realizes what unbelievable damage he has done, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  “Wait, honey—“

  “Don’t.”

  With one last glance, you march out of the room toward the nurse’s station, looking for Dana to see if you can clock out earlier. You cannot stay in this place any longer, it is eating you alive and tearing your sanity apart.

  “Have you seen Dana?” As soon as you see her walking with Collins, you approach her with teary eyes, nails digging harshly into your palms, “Dana, I need out.”

  “What happened to you, kid?” She asks, putting her hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing your arms up and down, “Come on, let’s get you some air.”

  Heather only smiles and reaches to pat your back, shaking her head as she watches Dana guide you towards the ambulance bay, turning to glare at Robby, who just stepped out of the break room.

  You don’t have the strength to keep your tears from falling as soon as Dana leads you out. You cry softly, wiping the tears as they stream down your cheeks, melting into Dana’s motherly embrace.

  “I’m sorry—“

  “Shh, you’re okay, kid,” she wraps her arms around you tightly, holding your face to her shoulder as you cry out, “I’m gonna kick his ass, don’t worry.”

  You cackle a little, squeezing her before letting go, allowing her to cup your face in her hands, giving you a soft, defeated look before she starts talking.

  “You are a great doctor, alright? One of our best residents, don’t let a man fuck it up,” she holds your head straight, forcing you to open your eyes and look at her, “He is a dick, I know that—“

  “There’s a but coming and I don’t like it.” You try to move away from her, but she keeps your head locked in place, her gaze turning serious.

  “But…” you sigh, rolling your eyes at her, but she only cracks a smile and continues, “He is lost. It’s been so long since he has felt like this. The last time was with Heather, and let me tell you it was just as bad in the hospital.”

  “So he treats his girlfriend like shit until she gives up?” Your voice shakes again, finally freeing yourself from her grip, pacing in the ambulance bay, “I hate how he says to remain professional, yet all he does is complain and belittle me for my medical decisions and when I bring it up he says it’s all empty fucking words and he doesn’t mean it!”

  “He doesn’t mean any of it, I’m sure—“

  “I’m done, Dana,” you sniff, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, looking at her with eyes full of sorrow. “I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Look at me,” she raises your head with a finger under your chin, her tone dead serious, “I know it must be exhausting, but do you want to know what it is that makes the thing you have so special and worth the effort?”

  “What?” 

  “He is in love with you,” she smiles, bringing you into her arms again, rocking you back and forth as you smell her hospital-induced scent, “I have never seen him like this.”

  “It doesn’t make it okay for him to insult me… he said,” you hiccup on your sob, “He said that when we are here he isn’t my ‘goddamn boyfriend’ and… he said it like the word repulsed him.”

  “He’s such an idiot,” she groans, watching in confusion as you reach for your phone, pulling it out before you call someone, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling Jack.”

  “No, ah uh, nope,” she shakes her head, giving you a disapproving look, but she knows how hard Robby’s words must be, and they definitely have taken a toll on you and your relationship. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kid.”

  “Too late for that,” you sigh, tapping your feet on the ground as you wait for your brother to answer, “Jack, answer the fucking phone.”

  “Hmm?” 

  “Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” you scoff, throwing your hand up when he groans at your voice. “Be at least a bit excited to hear my voice, Jack.”

  “The day I do that you’ll bury me six feet deep,” Jack says on the other side of the phone, voice raspy from the deep sleep he must have had, “Usually texting me fills the hole in your miserable life, sister, how bad is it this time that you needed to call?”

  “I…” you try to say it, you really do, but the words get stuck inside your throat, a slow whine breaks past your lips, alerting your brother on the phone.

  “Hey, hey! What’s up?” His usual sarcastic demeanor fades away, his voice shifting into unimaginable concern, “Talk to me, kid. Are you okay?”

  “I…” you suck in a sharp breath, clearing your throat as you look at Dana smoking a cigarette next to you, “No, I’m not.”

  “Are you physically hurt? Do I need to come? What the fuck’s happened, kiddo?” You can hear him shuffle around, probably putting on his pants to bolt through the door and get himself to the hospital.

  “No and yes,” you sit on the edge of the pavement, “I think I wanna move back in with you—“

  “What the fuck?” He says with so much love, you nearly melt at the spot, “What happened? Did he do something? Do I need to break his nose?”

  “You love him more than you love me, so it doesn’t work like that,” you chuckle, sighing softly as you listen to him grumble and put his prosthetic leg on, “But… yeah, I can’t handle it anymore, I think I’ll move back in with you if you’re okay with it.”

  “Of course, kid, whatever you want,” you hear him zip up his jacket, walking towards the door of his apartment to come and get you. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

  “He’s so mean to me on our shifts, I can’t bear to be the only person he speaks to like that. It’s affecting my practices and my fucking sanity,” you drop your head between your arms, back hunching uncomfortably, “He acts more lovingly with Collins than he does with me and it upsets me so much.”

  “Listen up,” he locks the door and walks to the elevator, “He is an ass for whatever reason he must have, but I know you, and I know him. You don’t deserve to be the one on whom he takes out his frustration, and I know you’ve tried to talk it out with him, but he’s probably too far into his head to listen to the voice of reason. I’m gonna come and get you so we can talk.”

  “Okay, call me when you get here, I’m gonna go see a few patients before I clock out, love you.”

  “Love you, too, kiddo. Stay away from him.”

  “Will do my best,” you say and hang up, shrugging when Dana gives you her significant look, “What now?”

  “Nothing, just you’re too sweet and caring. Robby better get his head outta the water and see what he’s taking for granted.”

  You chuckle, shoving your phone back into your pocket, stretching your arms before getting ready to get back into the hellhole you chose to spend the rest of your residency in, Dana following you after she puts out her cigarette with the tip of her sneakers.

  “Let’s hope it’s not too late for that.”

  •••••

  You barely manage to handle a few patients for the next half hour without running into Robby, stabling, and helping with the triage from time to time until Jack gets here to pick you up.

  “I’m gonna go…” You announce to Dana and Collins, sitting down to finish one last report and head out, “I… I think I might take night shifts from now on.”

  “What?”

  “C’mon, no, that’s a stretch—“ Heather says, sitting down on the rolling chair and moving it to sit next to you, “We need you here. You’re an amazing doctor, besides every shift needs an Abbot at most.”

  “Yeah, well, the whole point of getting into the morning shifts was to learn from and spend time with Robby. Now that went down the fucking drain,” you look at Heather, your tone clipped and exhausted, “He is throwing a year and half relationship away for… whatever reasons. I don’t have to tolerate it anymore.”

  “Please, reconsider this,” Dana jumps in, leaning over the station, “Go for now, take tomorrow off, and talk with Jack.”

  “Will do— and my job’s done here! I’ll see you when I take the night shifts from you,” You smile, hugging both of them quickly before you go to the lockers, grabbing your belongings before you reply to Jack’s ‘I’m here, knucklehead’ with a quick thanks.

  You don’t look behind you as you bolt to the exit of the ED, not hearing Robby’s footsteps following you as you make your way to the park in front of the hospital, seeing Jack’s truck waiting for you.

  “Wait—“

  You don’t. You can’t. If you stay one more minute here, you will lose your mind. You pick up your pace, ignoring the calls of your name as you walk faster, sighing in relief when Jack steps down from his truck, but as soon as you reach him, Robby grabs your arm, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to ground you.

  “Where are you going?” He asks, his eyes wide in anticipation, chest heaving rapidly, as if he is imagining all these, “Your shift isn’t over yet…?”

  “I can’t continue working on a shift that my Attending has no respect for me,” you turn around, looking at him dead in the eyes but the tears betray you sooner than you expected, “I have already told Jack I’ll switch to night shifts with him and he said he’ll sign it off for me—“

  “I did?” Jack whispers, raising his eyebrow at you as he glances between you and Robby.

  “Don’t do this, darling, look at me—“ Robby cups your cheeks in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumb, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—“

  “I need time! You clearly don’t like me enough to be a decent human being to me on our shifts! I chose to stay with you, to learn from you and be with you during the hard days but you are fucking unbelievable!”

  “Alright, alright,” Jack interrupts when he sees Robby’s glassy eyes, and it is only a matter of time he will breakdown in front of you — something that has never happened before — so he puts his hand on Robby’s back, “I’ll take her home for now, brother. Both of you need some time away from each other.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then…” Robby replies hopefully, gently stroking your arm as he stares into your eyes, waiting for any sign of forgiveness, but when he sees none, he nods and steps away.

  You miss the warmth of his grip immediately, but the ache in your chest is far too great to push everything aside and cave in. You need this time off, you must think and come up with a solution. Perhaps the night shift might help you take your mind off him.

  “I’m off tomorrow,” you reply, wiping the tear that falls on your cheek quickly, turning your back to the men who are looking at you attentively, “I just need some space.”

  “Okay…”

  “Alright,” Jack hugs Robby, patting his back, “I think you fucked up big time, brother. Let me talk to her and see what happens, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Robby nods, head hanging low as he watches you get inside the truck, sighing deeply before he says his goodbye to Jack and leaves, running a hand through his hair while he walks away.

  “Talk, kid,” Jack starts the truck, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you only stifle your sobs and look down at your hands, squeezing your eyes shut, “Only the senior Abbot gets to be the traumatized sad one. So… “

  “He is… a lot, but I thought I could handle it,” you wipe the tears, resting your elbow on the window’s edge, watching how Jack starts turning the wheel and drives the car out of the parking, “Hell, I was handling it, but I didn’t know he would turn into such a short tempered and spiteful person only towards me. He even…” you choke on your sob before you continue, “He even treats Gloria better than me, can you imagine it? He criticizes every diagnosis I make, every order I give, every single pill I prescribe, but it’s just me, his girlfriend…”

  “I’m sorry,” Jack sighs, stopping the car when the light turns red, reaching to hold your hand, his hazel eyes finding your teary ones. He shakes his head slightly, his heart clenching at the sight of you tittering at the edge of a breakdown before he pulls you closer, resting your head on his shoulder, kissing your forehead as the two of you wait for the light to turn green, “He is being a dick to you because he is scared… he did the same thing to Collins but… It’s pretty different this time. I know it, I can see it, he is afraid of losing you more than losing himself.”

  “It doesn’t make sense!” You hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes, “Can’t he see that being so-so harsh on me leads to exactly what he fears? He is losing me, Jack, and I hate it. I don’t want him to lose me, but every day I spend in the ER with him, I feel him slipping away from my fingers slowly. I don’t wanna lose him either.”

  Jack keeps quiet, kissing the crown of your head once or twice as he starts driving again, letting you tell him everything, opening your heart to him.

  “I saw how he was with Heather years ago before I even began to like him,” you say, no longer crying, just voicing your feelings in a numb tone while your heart aches for some sort of relief, “And I thought we were different, I thought he changed, but… maybe there is no hope for us either.”

  “He loves you,” Jack replies, “He loved Heather too, but… he is in love this time.”

  “How are you so sure?” You ask, straightening your back as you look at his side profile, watching how a small smile takes over his face.

  “I know him better than you do, kid.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” you scoff playfully, “My brother knows my boyfriend better than I. Are you sure he’s not cheating on me with you?”

  “Please, I’ll never lower my standards to Robby.” he winks at you when you snort, “You bet no one wants him, he’s all yours.”

  “Well, I’m not really sure about that anymore,” you shrug, “I don’t think he’s even mine anymore… and mind you, I always wanted my partner to be like you, so take it as an insult with a grain of salt, asshole.”

  “You wound me,” Jack chuckles, glancing at your soft, unsure smile, “on the night shift thing… Are you sure you want me to be your Attending? I can be worse than him.”

  “I’m used to your horrible attitude, and besides, we don’t have sex, so your chances of hurting me are half as likely.”

  “I’m too old to be the victim of your incest jokes,” he reaches for the remote to open the door to the apartment’s parking lot, “And I do have sex, but unlike you, I don’t like shoving it in my sister’s face.”

  “I never did that!” You laugh, nudging his side with your elbow when he safely parks the car, “I’m just saying I don’t take your insults as my Attending seriously because we’re blood related and I know what goes through your head.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” Jack sighs, rubbing a palm over his face, “Not maybe, definitely. He can’t say what goes through his head and… it bottles up inside him until he explodes.”

  “Then that’s too bad, cause the only person he harms is me.”

  ••••••••••

  Robby has been searching for you all through the ER for the past week. You know it is not the most mature way to go through this crisis, but it doesn’t hurt to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

  You start taking the night shifts, meeting with Dana and Collins as night owls take over the floor while you openly avoid Robby at all times, fleeing the scene every time you get so much as a glimpse of his navy blue hoodie in the corner of your eye.

  He, too, has been chasing you relentlessly. Making sure to stay a few more hours to just see you and get to tell you a simple hello, but you go out of your way to hide in the bathroom until Ellis comes and collects you, giving you a thumbs up that means Robby’s given up on finding you again.

  This is the routine for a good few nights; escaping Robby for the first hours of your shift, having a breakdown in the bathroom, save a bunch of lives and argue with your brother — Attending —  until you sneak out of the hospital without Robby seeing you when he comes to take over the floor from your brother.

  Jack forces you to take a few days off this week. You have been running through ER every night on caffeine and energy drinks, four hours of sleep, and a broken heart. So, given how much of a great brother Jack is, he tells you to take a few nights off this week.

  Home alone, comfy under a blanket with a boring movie playing on the TV, the least you could expect is to hear a knock on your brother’s apartment at such a dark hour — and worse? You recognize the pattern of knocks immediately. Three knocks: one slow and unsure, the second one stronger and confident, the last one shy and anticipating.

  You want to disappear, to ignore the knocks and melt through the cushions of the couch. But the very familiar pattern is pulling you in, making your heart race and limbs tingling.

  With some courage that is near nonexistent, you push the blanket off, slowly padding towards the door, flexing and relaxing your fingers a few times, a couple deep breaths before you reach for the door knob, twisting it and revealing a very tired and teary-eyed Robby.

  Your breath hitches as you take him in; shoulders slumped heavily, eyebags much darker than you remember, his body tense with so much unresolved emotion, and his eyes… his eyes, those pools of chocolate brown that always make your face warm and your heart beat rapidly — they are filled to the brim with shame and guilt. It will only take one push to have those watercolor droplets stream down his cheeks.

  “Robby…”

  He closes his eyes, taking a deep inhale as if hearing his name fall from your lips is the freshest air he has ever breathed. You can see him visibly relax, your voice soothing his concerns about your well-being.

  “Hi,” he leans with his hand on the doorframe, looking down at his shoes as he tries to keep his voice from breaking, “Hi…”

  “Hey,” you bite your lip, looking behind him as you try to gather your thoughts, “What are you doing here?”

  “I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers tightening around the wooden frame, dragging his eyes back to yours slowly, letting you use them as a mirror to his soul, “I had to see you.”

  “Robby—“

  “No, no, let me talk—“ he cuts you off, resting his hands on the bridge of his nose, then sighing and putting them on his hips, “I fucked up, I know that. I-I messed up so bad, I know, I fucking know. You’re a goddamn amazing doctor, my best resident, I loathe myself for how I treated you.”

  “You were so mean…” You can feel your own tears stinging your eyes, and it only gets worse when you look up to him, finding him flushed and on the verge of breaking, “Why?”

  “Just my mind playing tricks on me. I thought if I pushed you away in the hospital, we could work better together, and then-then the lines blurred and I couldn’t notice how far I distanced myself from you.”

  “I was right there, Robby,” you gasp, sucking in a sharp breath as the tears finally burst, “All you had to do was to give us one chance to work together.”

  “Don’t cry,” he whispers, hands shaking as he reaches to cup your face, his face wet from seeing your tears, “I can’t handle it, I will break beyond repair if I see you cry, please…”

  You put your palms on top of his, leaning forward to gently rest your forehead against his, sobbing in his arms. You are quite surprised when you hear him sniff and cry, just as equally pained and sad — he is crying because you are crying.

  “No one deserves your tears,” he leans down and kisses the droplets slowly, his chapped lips making a beautiful contrast with your soft skin. First your cheeks, following the wet path down to your chin before he comes up and pecks your closed eyelids, “Much less me.”

  “Don’t say that—“

  “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” you can feel him softly crying as he presses his lips to the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo he so desperately misses, “I can’t function without you on my shifts, I can’t think straight, I can’t… my life is incomplete without you.”

  You tilt your head back, forcing him to look at you, but the way you gaze at him only spurs him on to continue, and when those three words fall from his lips, he can no longer control his emotions.

  “I love you,” he closes his eyes, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, wetting his beard each passing moment, “I don’t show it a lot, I’ve treated you so poorly, you must be thinking I don’t care about you, but I do, a lot. I love you, and there is nothing nearly as good as you in my life. I hang in there for twelve hours, but when I see you, it feels like my entire life makes sense, like I have a purpose, a reason to come back, a reason to move forward.”

  “Oh, Robby…” you cup his cheeks, pulling his face down, brushing your nose against his, “I love you too, so much.”

  You close the distance, pressing your lips to his softly, just a taste, perhaps a promise of a better tomorrow. He doesn’t rush you either, he kisses you back with relief, the weight lifting off his shoulders slowly. 

  He doesn’t deepen the kiss, allowing you to lead him this time, tasting the remaining bittersweet flavor of his nicotine gum. Robby’s hands go to your back, pulling you closer if possible, feeling the heat of your body seeping through the layers of his outfit.

  “Robby,” you break the kiss, hovering your lips over his as you speak, “I still need some time. I… I have been getting along with the night shift, and I need some time away.”

  “Name it and it’s yours,” he nods, his fingers tightening around your waist, “I’ll do anything you ask, anything.”

  “I know, my love,” you pout, stroking his bearded cheek gently, “There are a lot of things we have to work on, but for now… I need to step back.”

  “Alright.”

  •••••••

  Maybe it was a bad decision to listen to your brother and take another night off. You feel useless being home alone without your stethoscope around your neck and those god-awful tight scrubs the hospital gave you.

  Now you are sure it was a terrible decision to take the night off, because now you have to explain to a very anxious brother and a much more anxious boyfriend why you and nearly thirty other injured people are being rushed to the PTMC’s ER.

  “Abbot?” Shen is in the triage they made of the ambulance bay, rushing towards you with Ellis in toe to help you out of the car, “What the fuck? What happened to you?”

  “I was in the same restaurant, fuck, my leg—“ you groan, clinging to the doctors as they sit you on the wheelchair, Shen giving Ellis a look to take you inside, dodging the gurneys and patients left and right until she finds you an empty corner, telling you to wait for someone to come and help you, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

  “Kid?” Dana gasps, jogging toward you as soon as her eyes fall on your face and stretched leg, “Fucking hell, you okay? What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to have a nice dinner out, unfortunately, it was the same restaurant that collapsed,” you scoff, trying to pull the sundress you are wearing down to cover at least your mid-thigh. “Don’t give me that look, I’m fine! Probably just a hairline fracture on my Fibula and a bunch of bruises on my body.”

  “You look like you’ve fist fought a three hundred pound man,” she glares at you, kneeling in front of your wheelchair to take a look at the bruises on your neck and arms, “For whatever’s worth, you look like a piece of candy in this dress.”

  “Too bad no one was there to appreciate me,” you crack a smile, hissing when she pushes the sundress’ sleeve further down your shoulder, her fingers stroking the huge purple-ish spot.

  “I’m gonna order you a CT, can’t wait to get a doctor here,” she looks at you, noticing the sadness in your eyes, “You look beautiful, don’t worry about him, he’s a moron.”

  “I’m more worried about how he’ll lose his shit if he sees me like this—“

  “Sister?!”

  “Jesus fucking christ,” you groan, tipping your head back as Jack runs towards you, kneeling on the other side of the wheelchair as he takes in your state. You look at Dana, giving her a pleading look, “Help me escape?”

  “And miss Robby hovering around you like a mother hen? Hell, nah,” she chuckles, caressing your head before she stands up, “You’re in good hands, kid. Dr. Abbot here knows a thing or two about medicine.”

  “Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, Dana,” Jack rolls his eyes playfully before he looks back to you. “How bad is the leg? Did you hit your head? Let’s get you a CT first, then radiology—“

  “Nope, I don’t need a head CT, I just need some painkillers and an X-ray. Think I have a tiny hairline fracture in my leg—“

  “Can you stand on your feet?” He asks, helping you up with his hands on your waist, watching how you stand up in pain, “Where does it hurt the most?”

  “Around my ankle, lateral malleolus,” you hiss again, holding onto Jack’s shoulder as he guides you back on the wheelchair, “Maybe it’s not even a fracture, just a sprain, yeah?”

  “Possibly, but you’re not the doctor here.” he fixes you with a stern look as he applies pressure around your ankle, trying to see where it hurts the most. “Let the adults handle this.”

  “Then get a responsible adult in here,” you say, laughing when he makes a gurgling noise, pressing on the spot where it hurts the most, making you shrink and pull your feet out of his grasp. “You’re pushing fifty and still act like you’re ten. Grow up.”

  “Unfortunately for you your ‘responsible adult’ is Robby who is—“ he turns around, finding Robby stopping midway when he gets a glimpse of you on a wheelchair, “Near freaking the fuck out. Have fun, Miss Abbot.”

  “Wait— no! He can’t treat me, he can’t handle it, I swear, Jack, if you take one more step—“

  Your words die in your throat as you watch Robby walk your way quickly, his hands shaking and his eyes — his sad fucking puppy eyes that have your heart running miles an hour — scanning your entire body in a hurry.

  “What happened?” Robby’s voice shakes as he reaches to hold your cheek in his hands, his touch hesitant and trembling, “What did Jack say? Do-do you need to go up? Are you okay—“

  “Robby, I’m fine,” you reply gently, smiling as he keeps on bombarding you with several questions you have already answered, watching as he closes his eyes and shakes his head when he sees the huge bruise on your shoulder, “It’s nothing. I’ll be back to my very energetic ER resident in a few days. I can even help now—“

  “No, absolutely not,” he purses his lips, ghosting his knuckles over your bruise before he sighs and looks back to your face, “You gonna go home, take some painkillers, you know which ones help you the most, and rest. What were you doing there anyway? What happened?”

  “I wanted to treat myself to a nice dinner, got ready and all,” and you smile shyly when his eyes finally drag on your body, taking in the way the sundress clings to your chest and stomach.

  “Fuck,” he huffs out a laugh, “Bad timing, darling. Now I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of the night.”

  “Good,” you reach for his hand, stroking his fingers as you explain what happened there. “There was some construction work on the building next to the restaurant. One second, everything was fine, but then something dropped on us, half of the ceiling came down, and we ran out. I fell down while I was trying to get past the exit.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head,” his tone grows serious, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles, “But what if you did? You should have told someone you were there, you have to stop being so reckless and—“

  “Robby—“

  “What if something worse happened to you—“

  “Robby—“

  “What if you ended up like one of these people, I wouldn’t be able to live—“

  “Michael, stop!” The way his first name falls from your lips freezes him immediately, his eyes widen in terror, but when he sees you smiling at him, he melts down instantly, “Look at me, I’m fine! Nothing a splint and Tylenol can’t fix, besides, I have two doctors hovering around me all the time. I’m fine and I will be fine, okay?”

  “Okay…” he nods, clinging to your hand as he fights a few unshed tears, “I panicked, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, I’d be worse if you were in my position,” you sigh in annoyance when you see Whitaker coming your way, squeezing Robby’s hand to get his attention, “Go, they need you now. I’ll buy the splint on the way home, I just need to find my bag.”

  “I have it!” Dana comes with Jack on toe, “Checked for keys, phone, credit cards, a bunch of lipsticks, and your necklace. All in there and good to go.”

  “Thank you, seriously!” You say, resting your arm around Robby’s shoulder as he helps you up by one hand on your ribs and the other on your waist, “Don’t worry about me, I can get home safely, alright?”

  “You need a key? I can hand you mine,” Jack says, and raises an eyebrow when you hesitate and bite your lip, looking back at Robby before you shake your head and grab your purse, “What?”

  “I think I’ll go back home,” you utter softly, looking into Robby’s eyes as his pupils blow in surprise, “If it’s okay with you?”

  “You wanna come back?” He asks, his voice no louder than a whisper, his grip tightening on you as he waits for an answer.

  “Yeah…”

  “Okay then,” Jack interrupts, “Sorry to be the bearer of the bad news, but we've got patients and you need to rest. So go back to your place and sleep.”

  “Do you…” Robby clears his throat, “Do you have the keys? Or should I grab mine—“

  “No, I have mine,” you smile, leaning up as best as you can on one foot to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you back home.”

  “Yeah, sure,” you say your goodbyes to others as well, giving Dana and Jack a halfway hug, limping over to the back door of the floor before you call for an Uber and drive back home.

  •••••••

  You take the advice and rest. You don’t know what time it is when you hear the quiet jiggling of the keys and the front door being pushed open, but the familiar sound of footsteps is enough to calm your racing mind.

  “Hey,” you say, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up on the bed, watching how Robby relaxes immediately when he spots you.

  He takes off his hoodie and scrubs, sitting on the edge of the bed topless as he takes off his socks slowly, sighing contently when you scoot closer, rubbing a hand over his warm back, kissing his broad shoulder.

  “How are you?” He asks, turning around so he can take a better look at your face, “Anything hurt?”

  “No,” you reply, gently running your fingers on his neck, caressing his collarbone, “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “Honestly?” He scoffs, looking down at your exposed thighs, under one of his worn-out t-shirts you have on, “Exhausted, but… I’m very happy you are back.”

  “I’m happy to be back too,” you lean down to kiss his shoulder again, “Go take a shower and come back to me. It’ll help you relax.”

  He nods and leans down to peck your lips, sighing in relief when he rests his forehead on yours. Robby nods again and, with a deep breath, he forces himself to stand up and let your hand fall from his skin.

  He comes back ten minutes later, hair towel dried and another one hanging dangerously low on his hip bones. He lets out another tired sigh, smiling when he finds you sitting up against the headboard.

  “I missed having you here.”

  “I missed being here,” you point to the empty space next to you, extending your hand so he knows what to do, watching as he slowly crawls on the bed, carefully resting his head on the soft podge of your stomach, circling his arms around your waist.

  “You’re okay, Michael.” You thread your fingers through his soft hair, gently rubbing his scalp as he hums and buries his face further into your belly, “I got you, my love.”

  “I thought I was losing you,” he tears up, biting his tongue in order to stop himself from crying, but it is in vain because the second you lean down to press a kiss on his head, he is breaking, “I did, for a few days… and it was the worst time of my life. I wasn’t alive, I… I just existed. I breathed, but I felt numb. I couldn’t believe that I let my insecurities get this far, that I had to let go of you.”

  “But I’m here now,” you wrap your other arm around his shoulder, holding him close as he cries silently, his shoulders shaking, but not a sound coming from him, “I’m here to work on these things. I never left to begin with, I… I should have knocked some sense into you when you told me my CPR pose was bad.”

  “That was a low blow, I’m sorry,” he holds on to you tightly, one of his large palms starting to caress your hips to your knees, letting his fingers follow the path of your thigh, “You’re a magnificent doctor, and I’m sorry that you had to endure months of suffering because of me. Fuck, I should have been the one to stop others not to be the one to give you a hard time.”

  “It’s over now, Robby.” You watch him sit up slowly, his much larger body cornering yours to the headboard without even trying to, “We gonna figure this out. I’ll stay on night shifts until we sort out everything, but for now, I just want my boyfriend.”

  He nods, closing the gap between your face until he reaches your lips, pressing a soft, experimental kiss before you grab the back of his neck to deepen it. Robby keeps himself up by one hand on the headboard and the other on your hip, moving his lips with yours in sync.

  “I don’t wanna hurt you more—“

  “Shh,” you nibble on his bottom lip, gently lowering your back on the mattress before you pull him on top of you, your free hand playing with the edge of the towel around his hips, “You will definitely hurt me if you deny my request.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I need you, Robby.” You frown when he doesn’t immediately get rid of the towel, and his eyes lock in on your face. Suddenly, a wave of sadness hits you: “You don’t want to… have sex?”

  “No! I do, I really do!” He chuckles, lowering himself on top of you after he pushes the covers off your body, grabbing your hand gently before he brings it to the very evident bulge under the towel, “See what you do to me? I need you too, so so badly, but I will hate myself if I make you uncomfortable more than you probably are.”

  “Stop overthinking and fuck me already!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he leans down again, kissing you passionately while you untuck the towel and drop it on the floor, making him hiss in pleasure as you wrap your arms around his aching lenghth, “Fuck, I missed this.”

  “Me too,” you reply breathlessly, letting him pull off your — his — shirt and pushing your panties to the side, “If you don’t do anything, I won’t let you sleep on this bed for another week.”

  “Bossy,” he kisses you quickly before he grabs your thigh in his hand, mindful of your other foot being in a splint while he makes home between your legs, his heavy cock resting on your hip as he tries to adjust your positions, “Jack’s wearing off on you.”

  “Don’t talk about my brother when you are about to fuck me,” you wrap both of your arms around his shoulder and your good leg around his waist, “Unless you two have something for each other that I don’t know about.”

  “Have some faith in me, I have a good taste in Abbots, and he is not the one,” you both laugh, and he nudges your nose with his, his warm brown eyes filled with pent-up lust and longing, “I love you.”

  “I love you too, so much.”

  He pulls you in for another kiss, guiding the tip of his cock to your soaked entrance, easing himself into you slowly, careful of your bruises. 

  Both of you moan into each other’s mouths, clinging to the other with every fiber of your being as Robby stretches you out, pushing his cock until he has nothing to give. His dick’s snuggled tightly between your velvet walls, your cunt gripping him like a vice and never wanting to go.

  He gasps when you clench around him, resting his forehead on yours as both of you begin to pant, your chests heaving with each breath.

  “You feel so good, Robby,” you whimper, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, making your breath hitch as his cock reaches deep inside you.

  “You look so fucking beautiful,” his lips fall open as he picks up his pace, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “The most perfect human ever.”

  “Oh, fuck—“ you throw your head back, tangling your fingers in Robby’s soft short hair, tugging at it as he slams himself inside you with a newfound desire — his movements tactical enough not to hurt you but just the right amount of roughness to make your leg shake around his hip, “I’m not gonna last long!”

  “Me neither, darling,” he groans, the sound of squelching filling the room, nearly tripping over the edge when he sees you reaching between your bodies to rub on your clit, “Fuck, baby…”

  “I’m gonna come—“ you release a loud moan, spilling around his girth as you reach your peak, your heel digging into his butt as you writhe beneath him.

  “There you go, sweet girl,” he beams at you, watching as your face twists in pleasure; lips swollen with all the kissing, eyes shut and lashes kissing your cheeks, “I’m so close…”

  “Inside,” you open your eyes, cupping his cheek in your hand while caressing his face, “Come inside me, Michael.”

  “Fuck, fuck—“ he groans, thrusting hard and fast into you a few more times before he begins to tremble, biting down on the skin of your neck as he comes, his cock twitching inside you, filling you up to the brim.

  He comes for an embarrassingly — in his opinion — long time, just holding you close and panting into your skin while he shoots thick ropes of his cum inside your cunt.

  You pull him down until he rests the majority of his weight on you. You have to force him, though, because he thinks it would hurt your bruises and put you in pain, but his weight grounds you.

  The proximity makes his head spin in warmth, but you can feel how worried he is, so you don’t keep him caged on top of you, allowing him to pull away until he can get a better look at your body.

  “Please be careful next time,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the large bruise on your collarbone, then the one on your arm, then lower on the side of your stomach, “Or better, I keep you locked up so I know you’re safe.”

  “You can’t even get me locked up in a surgery, good luck with doing it for the rest of my life,” you chuckle, thanking him when he helps you sit up.

  “I think I need another shower,” he says, standing up, naked as the day he was born, before he turns to you, extending his hand for you to take, “Care to join me?”

  “You’re far too horny for your age, Dr. Robby,” you tease him, but take him on his offer nevertheless, resting your weight on his arm as he slowly helps you limp to the bathroom.

  “I’m not old,” he scowls, and you laugh at his little frown, smoothing a finger between his brows, “but no, I don’t wanna have sex, I just wanna hold you, sweet girl.”

  “Nothing is stopping you, my love.”

[slaaneshsleftovergender]

*cracks knuckles* 

I have not been failing to beat the furry allegations for years, just to ignore this call to action now

I'm basing my takes on…vibes, mostly. Also there's no set system. Each primarch gets personal evaluation on Culture, Cannon, my view of what Big E would consider “sick as hell”, and just…them, ya know?

-

Lion - Obvious one*, very large and sturdy, leaning heavily towards a Dungeons and Dragons Leonin design. 

Fulgrim - My knee jerk reaction is snake, Slaneesh saw n made it happen, but I was torn because honestly when I think of Fulgrim, I think about his hair. Solution, hood like a cobra. I would love to draw Fulgrim as a Medusa now

Perturabo - Look, this all started with the Ultramoorines, and (possibly) bad news, Petty Turbo is also Bull. Same sacred symbolism situation between cultures, plus shit temper, and stubbornness. 

Khan - Okay, I'm not gonna say horse. He likes horses, I don't think he is one. I did think the basic bitch answer Cheetah, but that does not have enough flavor. He's a Hawk. That man is a hawk. 

Leman Russ* - Wolf. I really want to appologize for saying something so obvious.

Dorn - Gonna be real, knee jerk reaction is his Fursona is human. “Humans are animals” mfer.

For real though, wasp. The kind that makes nests in your rafters - builders, short temper, color scheme - I'd hear the argument for Bees as well. 

Konrad Curze - Now, a lot of people associate night lords as bats, AS THEY SHOULD. It is the morally correct thing to do. However, HOWEVER, might I interest you in cat boy Curze? 

Listen, feral bastard, actual night vision not echo location, one of the most efficient hunters in the animal kingdom. Also, someone here on Tumblr dot com said "Konrad with a cat mom" and I will never not wish that in my deepest soul. 

> Also people, normal ass people, with like cat ears and tail, do not count as furries....but like *holds up Catrad* 

Sanguinius - His alluded me. He's got wings, there's been jokes about him being a goose....but he wears a leopards pelt, maybe could take some licenser with that?

Until it hit me.

It's griffin. He likes big cats, has wings, and I want more mythical creature primarchs. Plus, they got an air of nobility while, also, kinda being a mutant in their own way. 

Ferrus - Armadillo Lizard. Look, imma be real, I don't know much about him. However, he's gotta be a reptile to match Fulgrim, and the metal arms translates to armor scales in my mind. I think the evolution of the scales would please him too, cause the Iron Fists got that whole weakness of the flesh thing going on. I think. Also cute as fuck

Angron - I was thinking maybe something that balanced before n after nails, but honestly, Wild Boar. Angry bastards. Also associated with gods of War :3

Guilliman - is locked in, Bull/Cow. I've heard Ultramoorines started due to either the symbolism, or Guilliman wanting to be a farmer. Either is fantastic….but if I COULD change it…Owl just because of Minerva? Felt worth saying lol.

Mortarion - I was thinking Spider for some reason, but I think ultimately it's another one where the chaos god called it. Also, I can see him really liking Moths in general.

Magnus - I've seen him likened to a jackal, and I do really like that. And it would be fun to draw. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think Ibis fits better. Ibis was associated with Thoth - God of Wisdom, so big point there, but, once more, chaos god involvement = birb. 

Horus - Capybara 

Okay, okay. So Horus obviously likes wolves, but bro is domesticated honestly. He's really good with people, he charms them. He is a dog. 

Lorgar - Ram!!! He's got that biblical sheep symbolism energy. And horns. And I can't think of anything else lol 

Vulkan* - Dragon. Big, happy dragon.

Corvus Corax* - Raven.

Alpharius and Omegon - "Well Hydra Dominatus, they would be some kind of Scaley-" WRONG! FOX BOIIIZZZZZ

Bonus: 

Jago Sevatarion's is shark.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRfdbtvK/

[heavenlybodies333]

Do I make you horny baby? - S.R

Spencer Reid x needygf!reader

You’ve made it a habit. Showing up at Quantico when you know the team’s still working late, sliding in past security with two coffees and a bag of takeout like you belong there. You basically do at this point—Hotch has stopped scowling when he sees you, Rossi greets you with a knowing smirk, and Penelope practically squeals whenever you bring snacks.

But tonight, the bullpen is dark. Mostly empty. And Spencer is the only one left. You find him alone in the conference room, glasses low on his nose, sleeves pushed to his elbows, hair a little messy like he’s been running his hands through it too much. There’s a stack of case files in front of him, but he barely glances up before smiling softly.

“You didn’t have to come.”

“Yeah, I did,” you say simply, setting the coffee down. “You forget to eat when you’re here this late.”

“I wasn’t even hungry.”

“Sure,” you smirk, popping open the container. “Well, now you are.”You pull out the chair beside him but pause, glancing at him through your lashes. Then, instead of sitting next to him, you swing your leg over and straddle his lap, settling down as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Spencer stiffens instantly. “W-what—?”

“Relax,” you purr, handing him a fork and reaching for the food. “Your thighs are comfy. You focus on your work.” He’s blushing, hard. But his hands—traitorous things—settle on your hips. Tentative. Like he can’t help himself.

You feed him a bite. He chews in silence, trying to focus on the report behind you. You reach up to brush his hair back from his forehead, fingers lingering. Then you take off his glasses and set them down gently on the table. His eyes are wide behind them, pupils blown. You don’t give him time to protest before you lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

His hands clench at your waist. And that’s when you roll your hips, grinding deliberately down over the hard length of him.

He chokes on air. “W-What are you doing?” he sputters, cheeks flushed red, hands instinctively gripping your thighs like he’s about to lift you off him.

“You okay?” you whisper, feigning innocence as you lean in and nuzzle your nose against his jaw.

“Y-Yeah,” he lies, face scarlet. “I’m fine, just—trying to focus.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Focus on what, exactly?”

“I need to finish—fuck, don’t do that—”

“What?” you ask sweetly, grinding down a little harder, feeling the full weight of him press up against your panties. “This?” shifting your hips again, deliberately grinding over the growing bulge beneath you. He chokes on air.

“Y-You can’t just…” He trails off, trying to form words, hands tightening on your waist like he doesn’t know whether to push you off or pull you closer. “I’m at work—”

“Uh huh,” you murmur, grinding down again, slow and sinful, feeling the ridge of him through his slacks. “And you’ve got a stack of files and a raging hard-on. Real productive.” you began fumbling with his belt before Spencer lifts you just enough to slide your panties to the side—soaked, because of course you are—and pulls his cock free from his slacks. He’s flushed, panting, completely unraveling as he strokes himself once before guiding you down.

You sink onto him slowly. “Holy shit,” you whine, bracing your hands on his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. You’re moaning against his ear, and he’s gripping your ass like he’s about to lose control, thrusting up into you with reckless need.

His desk chair squeaks beneath you as you ride him slow, dragging your hips in tight circles while Spencer pants into your throat, whispering helpless curses against your skin.

“God, I missed you,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently, making him groan. “Didn’t realize how badly until now.”

“I’ve been—ngh—thinking about you all night,” he confesses, breath ragged. “You sitting in my lap like this? Fuck, baby, you’re not making it easy to concentrate.”

The thrill of it pulses through you—how filthy this is, how wrong it should be. Fucking him on Bureau property, lights low, anyone could walk in. But you don’t care. Not when his cock is buried this deep inside you, fucking you like he is.

You shift your weight, lifting just enough to start bouncing properly in his lap, skin slapping against skin as you fuck him deeper, faster. You’re shaking now, clinging to his shoulders, crying out his name in soft, choked gasps as he fills you over and over, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you.

Your walls flutter around his cock, drawing him over the edge with you. He groans—low and rough—and spills inside you, hips jerking erratically, mouth falling open as he pulses deep in your cunt.

You collapse against his chest, panting, sweaty, “That was definitely a breach of FBI protocol,” Spencer mutters, voice still breathless. You hum against his neck, utterly fucked-out and satisfied.

“Um,” he says softly, brushing your hair behind your ear, “do you think this room has cameras?”

You go completely still. “…Are you serious?”

He winces. “I think they’re turned off after hours, but I didn’t, um… verify.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. Then you burst out laughing, head falling forward against his chest. “Spencer. You couldn’t have mentioned that before my ass was riding you?”

“I was a little distracted,” he mumbles, cheeks flaming. You giggle, shifting in his lap, and he groans quietly. “Please don’t move unless you want round two right here.”

You smirk. “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” he says seriously, brushing your hair back. “Because this chair is very much government property. As is my dick, technically.” Then Spencer shifts beneath you and winces slightly.

You blink at him. “What?”

“I think we broke my chair.”

You glance over your shoulder. One of the legs is definitely a little...off-kilter. The chair wobbles under you both with a telltale squeak.

You gasp. “Spencer!”

He looks horrified. “That was government property!”

You burst into laughter, burying your face in his neck. “You fucked me into a federal chair violation.”

He groans. “Hotch is going to kill me.”

You’re still giggling when you climb off his lap, legs shaky as he helps you stand. He tucks himself back into his slacks with flushed cheeks, straightening his shirt like it’ll somehow cover the fact that he just had sex in a government conference room.

Hopefully Hotch wouldn’t notice the broken chair.

a/n: the chokehold this man has on me is baddd

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[wheresarizona]

Big News

summary: Ellie and Dina have something to tell Joel. 

pairing: Ellie/Dina

rating: G (*Spoilers for S2E4* This is fluff, Joel POV, Joel being the best dad, Ellie giving Joel shit, big news, domestic fluff, AU where Joel lives, not canon compliant)

word count: 600+

a/n: *Spoilers for S2E4* Hi, I made myself really sad thinking about how excited Joel would be finding out he’s going to be a grandpa, so I wrote it to make myself feel better. Enjoy this fluff! 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

“We need him to sit down,” Dina whispers to Ellie, but Joel can clearly hear as the pair stand in front of him. 

“Good idea,” the other girl quietly replies. “He’s old. We gotta think about his heart.” 

Joel takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes and presses his fingers to his forehead. 

Ellie and Dina had met him at the house for their weekly dinner and movie night. When they arrived, they found him in the kitchen, where they are now, and said they had something to tell him. 

“Girls,” he cuts in, and lowers his hand to look at them. “What is goin’ on? Did you get in trouble for messin’ around on patrol and not checkin’ in again?” 

“Hey,” Ellie responds. “That happened one time, and we’ve explained many times that we don’t know how the radio got turned off!” 

“Uh huh, and you smelled like weed because?” 

“There was that blizzard, and we had to hole up at Eugene’s weed-growing place, but forget about that. We have something to tell you, and you need to sit down.” 

He sighs and decides to humor them by walking the few steps to take a seat at the little breakfast table. In all honesty, his heart is pounding over what they possibly had to say. He’s thinking the worst, but he’s not quite sure what that would even be. 

“Okay,” he says. “What is it?” Ellie inhales deeply and says something so quickly on the exhale that it sounds like gibberish. His eyebrows pull together, and his attention goes to Dina. “What did she say?” 

“We’re having a baby,” Dina answers. 

Joel looks between them. “I beg your pardon, what?” 

“We’re having a baby,” Dina repeats. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Ellie adds. 

Now, Joel knows they’ve been dating for a month or so, and he loves seeing them together. He just has one question. “How…?” 

Dina uses her thumbs to point at herself. “I’m pregnant.” 

Again, he asks, “How?” 

“If you want to get into the specifics, I had sex with Jesse—”

That’s enough for him to hear, Joel putting up a palm as he interrupts her, “Okay, okay, alright. Jesse’s the father. That’s all I needed to know.” Then it dawns on him what they’re saying, and his hand drops, his eyes widening as he looks at Dina. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” 

His attention goes over to Ellie. “You said you’re gonna be a dad?” 

“Yep.” 

Now, he’s looking between them. “Does…” His throat feels tight. “Does that mean, I’m gonna be a grandpa…?” 

Both girls nod and say at the same time, “Yep.” 

He stares off behind them at the kitchen wall. 

He’s going to be a grandfather. 

After losing Sarah, and with Ellie dating girls, he never in a million years ever thought he’d be a grandfather. He figured he lost that chance when he lost his oldest. Really, it wasn’t something he even thought about until now. 

A grandfather. 

He’s going to be a grandfather. 

His girls are having a child. 

“Did we break him?” Ellie whispers. 

“Shh, he’s processing. Give him a second.” 

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“I’m gonna be a grandpa,” he breathes, focusing on them. 

Dina nods, her eyes red-rimmed and teary. “Yeah, Joel. You’re gonna be a grandpa.” 

There’s no stopping his big grin, as he quickly rises to his feet. “I’m gonna be a grandpa!” he excitedly says, wrapping his arms around them. Dina giggles, and Ellie groans, but they hug him back. “I’m so happy for you kids,” he tells them. He’s already thinking about what he’ll carve the baby—maybe a giraffe. “You’re gonna be great parents.” 

And that’s not a lie. They’re good together. They'll be great.

This might be the happiest day he’s had in over twenty-five years. 

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[wakasaz]

Caught

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Pairing: Wakasa Imaushi x Benkei Little Sister!Reader

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Not Proof Read

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ WC: 1.4K

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ TW: 18+, MDNI, Age gap, unprotected sex, oral, humiliation?, public sex, pet names, Wakasa being a little shit, I think that's everything.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

It wasn't supposed to happen at all.

You work at the gym with your brother Benkei and his best friend Wakasa. You're pretty sure Wakasa only agreed to hire you because of Benkei. You work the front desk and occasionally clean the equipment, while Benkei and Wakasa teach classes and have one on one personal training with different members of the gym. You're the only girl who is ever here well except for Senju but lately she's hardly here.

The gyms members are mostly delinquents or former ones. Men your brother grew up around or fought at one time. Occasionally you get a random civilian who walks in thinking it's a normal gym but quickly leaves when they see the clientele.

Today was supposed to be like any other day and it was until Benkei left. Claiming he had important Business to take care of and it was urgent. You sit at the desk flipping a magazine while you blow bubbles with your gum and twirl a strand of your hair.

You didn't realize how quiet it has gotten till just now. You look up when you hear the slam of the front door and realize your alone. well not totally. Wakasa is standing across the gym, shirt off, sweat dripping down his chest and a towel around his shoulders as he wipes down the equipment he was just using.

You don't mean to stare and honest you don't even realize you're doing it until

“Oi!” Your eyes widen “just gonna lean against the counter and gawk at me all day little Arashi?”

“I—”

“Didn't know I was looking?” He raises a brow and you bite down on your bum popping the last bubble you blew making a popping sound. As you stand up straight.

“Just going to stand there looking like a deer in head lights or are you going to do your job and come help me clean up so we can leave?”

You nod your head and run over. Grabbing a towel and disinfectant on the way. You go to equipment across from Wakasa and start wiping it down trying to ignore him behind you. You can feel him staring.

Minutes pass in silence then you feel warmth against your back and you feel someone breath against your neck.

“Ever boxed little Arashi?” Wakasa says as he puts his hands on your hips

“W-what?” He chuckles

“Ever spar with anyone? your dear older brother ever show you how to throw a punch or did he just say to call him when you're in trouble?"

He grips your hips tighter

“I can throw a punch!”

He laughs against but this time he spins you around so face you get dizzy then your nose to nose with him. He's smirking at you.

“Show me”

“What?!”

“You hear me Little Arashi. Show. Me” He leans in close when he says the last two words.

“You want me to hit you?”

He's full of laughter now. A laugh you've never heard from him before.

“You think you can?” He tilts his head his hair swaying to the side, raising an eyebrow, smirk widening.

You glare, knitting your eyebrows together and you fist you hand and go to hit him because how dare he think less of you but just as you do he grabs your hand instantly. Stopping the hit like it was nothing. He raises a brow a again and widens his smirk.

“Really? you call that a punch? A kitten could hit harder”

You huff and yank your hand away about to leave because while you might be his employee you didn't sign up for him to pick on you while your older brothers gone.

“In the ring”

“Huh?”

“Get. In. The. Ring.” He points to the boxing ring in the middle of the gym. You're eyes widen and he starts walking over towards it pulling the ropes down. “I'm going to show you how to throw a real punch. Now get over here.”

You do as he says. He helps you in then gets in himself. Both of you discarded your shoes before getting in.

You stand opposite of each other when he explains the basics then tells you to come at him promising to go easy on you and not really hurt you. He blocks every hit like he can see what you are planning before doing it. You're panting and sweaty while he looks bored.

“Is that Really all you can do?” He tilts his head again. You huff and go at him again determined to land one hit even if it doesn't hurt just one. But he shocks you. You yelp when you feel him grab your wrist and yank you forward then you feel him swipe your feet out from under you. You're falling backwards and hit the bottom of the ring but what makes you gasp is Wakasa is on top of you pinning you down. You both bounced when you first hit the ground but now you're pinned down by a solid chest of muscles.

He's so close your noses almost touch, you can feel his breath on your lips. “Benkei really should have taught you to fight. It's dangerous around here especially for someone as pretty as you”

Your eyes widen and then you gasp as you feel his lips touch yours. He using your gasp to his advantage, slipping his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss. Before long you're kissing him back. Your hands end up in his hair and he is grinding against you. Your legs on either side of his waist. You don't know when you spread your legs but right now you don't care to remember.

His hand is At the bottom of your shirt and slips up under it. You can feel the warmth of his palm on your skin and you mean into the kiss.

He's kissing your neck now as his hands play with your tits under your shirt. You're pulling his hair and moaning. Before long you're naked below him and his Head is between your thighs eating you like a man starved. He's licking and biting anywhere his mouth and tongue can reach. Switching back and forth between tongue fucking and finger fucking you.

You're moaning his name as your back arches coming undone on his face as he licks up ever drop like it's gold. He crawls up your body before discarding his workout shorts And boxers. You gasp when he pushing in not expecting him to be as big as he is. He bottoms out and waits for you to adjust before moving. Once you nod he starts thrusting, slow at first but slowing picking up speed.

You're both grabbing onto each other anywhere you can. Mouths all over the other, kissing, licking, and biting. The gym is filled with slapping sounds and moans. Wakasas hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing lazily as you both chase your high.

Wakasa flips you both over putting his hands behind his head “ride me Little Arashi” smirking up at you. You bounce and grind on him his hands going back to hips to help you move. You reach your peak minutes later cumming all over him. You don't remember how many times you have for him tonight too fucked out to care.“What would your brother think? To see his little baby sister getting fucked by his best friend and her cumming all over his mouth and cock”

And just as the words leave his mouth you both hear the door slam open. Your head whips to the door and you cover your chest, eyes wide.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Benkei yells as he storms over

Wakasa lazily pumps up into you from below “you're in my gym Benkei” He says lazily

“You're in my sister!”

Wakasa chuckles as he continues to lazily move. You threw yourself on him, embarrassed, hiding in his neck. “Aw, you're embarrassing her Benkei” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

they continue to argue before Benkei says something about wakasa being a dead man before you're being pulled off him and a jacket being wrapped around you. Next thing you know Benkei is chasing Wakasa around the gym. Wakasa is faster a lot faster. He runs over to you kisses you and says “we aren't don't little Arashi, I'm picking you up at 8” He winks and runs again after hearing Benkei yell he's going to kill him if he doesn't get away from you.

You stand in the middle of the gym in Wakasas jacket. Benkei must of grabbed it and threw it around you watching at Wakasa runs around like an idiot and your older brother screams behind him that he has killed men for less. But you just stand there smiling remembering how Wakasa gave you several of the best orgasms you've Ever had.

[sturniololuvz]

Hey I love you sm!! Could you pls do one where Chris gets into a fight (like a fist fight) with someone and when he gets home he’s snappy at everyone and Nick and Matt go in a bad mood with him but their younger sister goes in and helps him clean up, and like she ignores him telling her to go away and stuff and then he just ends up crying and she comforts him

“After the Storm”

The door slammed so hard it made the kitchen windows rattle.

Matt looked up from his phone, brows instantly furrowing. Nick, halfway through pouring cereal, paused mid-motion.

Then Chris stormed in.

His knuckles were bleeding. His shirt was torn. His jaw was bruised and there was something in his eyes — rage, shame, pain — that made the room feel colder.

“Jesus,” Nick muttered. “What the hell happened?”

“Don’t,” Chris snapped. “I don’t wanna talk.”

“You’re bleeding,” Matt pointed out.

“I said don’t,” Chris growled, throwing a hoodie over his shoulder and brushing past them. “Just fucking leave me alone.”

Your head poked out from your room upstairs, hearing the tension before you saw it. You saw the blood on his hands, the anger in his posture, and you quietly followed him down the hall into the bathroom.

He noticed you right away. “What did I just say?” he snapped. “Go upstairs.”

You didn’t flinch. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need help,” he said, but his voice cracked.

You stepped forward, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

He turned away from you, fists clenching. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

You opened the kit anyway, pulling out gauze and antiseptic. “You sound like a scared kid when you talk like that.”

Chris slammed his hand on the counter. “I said—”

You gently took his wrist.

And for a moment, he didn’t fight it.

He let you clean his knuckles, wincing. His breathing was shallow and uneven, like he was trying not to cry.

“Was it bad?” you asked softly, dabbing at the torn skin.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Guy was talking shit… shoving people. Said something about me being soft… I just snapped.”

You didn’t say anything. Just kept cleaning. Carefully. Gently. Like it wasn’t just blood you were wiping away — but the weight of everything he was carrying.

“I’m so fucking tired,” he mumbled. “I try to be good. I try to stay out of shit. But people always—always—push until I break.”

You looked up at him.

He looked so much smaller in that moment. Not physically — but emotionally. Like the rage had cracked open something deeper underneath.

“I scared Matt,” he whispered. “Nick too.”

“They’ll be fine,” you said. “They’re just worried.”

“I snapped at you.”

“I’m still here.”

Chris looked at you then — really looked. And his face crumpled.

He dropped to the edge of the tub and buried his face in his hands. “Why am I always like this?”

You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“You’re not always like this,” you whispered. “You just feel things deep. It’s not a bad thing. You just… need someone to remind you you’re not alone.”

He didn’t say anything. Just leaned into you a little, quietly crying as you wrapped your arms around him.

And in the next room over, Nick and Matt listened from the hallway — no longer mad, just worried — knowing he was finally letting someone in.

Even if it wasn’t them.

⸻

[salmsilly]

Van der Linde Gang 🍃 Headcanons

This is with modern era in mind btw

Arthur

Did it when he was younger but grew to prefer alcohol and only really does that.

John

Either the plug or leeches off of other people.

Like he just never has his own stuff, he's only smoking if someone will invite him.

He's cool enough that people don't mind but sometimes if no one has invited him he will "very stubly" try to suggest a session.

That's the only time people will get annoyed, they know damn well he's not bringing shit

He's always watching some show high too. Smiling Friends, Midnight Gospel, or Gumball

Javier

The plug, 100%

Super generous with his stuff, it's his way of bonding

Gets so excited to find out someone wants to smoke for the first time

"Oh, I got you! I'm off this weekend, you gotta smoke with me."

Has a bong collection too, it's pretty cool and he loves it.

Charles

He'll do it occasionally, like once in a blue moon really.

Does it more with Arthur if anything.

Great for a chill smoke, or if someone's freaking out and they need someone just there, they're always with Charles.

Charles will let it happen, even if they're a little noisy because he's been there unfortunately.

Mary-Beth

Did edibles once but she took wayyy more than she should've and greened out the fuck out

Figured, a bit later, a bong might be better and easier to measure so she asked to hit one of Javier's bongs.

Greened out after one hit. (This is me projecting) Decided that was wraps and she's never done anything since.

Swanson

God, everyone just wants him to switch to weed like everyone but it's been unsuccessful

It's because his tolerance is very high and they don't know why

Dutch tried to get him shrooms after reading about them but it ended in a very very heavy hospital bill and trouble with the police

Lenny

His guilty pleasures are reading a fuck ton of stories and experiences about DMT and other kinds of drugs, he's so deep into subreddits and forums.

He never actually takes them too seriously though nor has been tempted to try them.

He doesn't smoke weed too often either, maybe to focus on something.

Sean

God, when is he not stoned.

His car smells so bad.

It's gotten to the point where he'll forget full interactions with people because he was so far gone but has had enough practice to look sober.

So when they bring something up, he'll look at them all funny asking "When was that??"

Dutch wondered if it was amnesia or something until he found the drawer of empty carts. Like, it was a graveyard.

People struggle to tell if he's high or not at times but eventually they figured always.

Tilly

Never does it, has not done it, and with absolutely no interest.

John's offered a couple of times when they were younger but it was always an immediate and stern no.

It isn't that she minds it really, she just doesn't want to.

She has no problem hanging out with the others if they're smoking.

But for the love of God, please do not bring that stench into the house, it will creep up to her room and she won't be able to sleep.

Uncle

He'll try to peer pressure people to do it but, he's so corny about it

He sounds like he belongs in an 80's infomercial against drugs.

"C'monnn, everyone here does it!" and Tilly responds with the nastiest side eye.

He's so much more funnier high though? He gets genuine chuckles and laughs out of people, it might be because they're stoned too.

Goes to his ego a bit though and he tries to be funny again sober but it falls flat so badly it's a bit embarrassing.

But it's Uncle so he's not embarrassed.

Karen

Obviously prefers alcohol way more, its effects last way longer.

She hates having to do constant hits.

She does have her own cart though where she's hitting blinkers that cannot be good for her at out.

Her PR is 30 seconds while making a bet with Sean once. (Yes she threw up.)

Sean is also always asking for a hit of her cart.

Dutch

Opposite of Lenny. Hears stories about trips and thinks it's the most profound, eye opening thing of all time.

If he catches the kids smoking, he'll start babbling on about them and the deeper meaning behind these trips or whatever. Not a single soul cares at all expect for Bill.

Molly will try to listen but she really doesn't gaf.

His big secret though is he tried shrooms himself too but it was a horrendous experience.

He was too far deep into his pro-shroom trips that could never be wrong to take it back and admit not everything was right that he gaslit himself into believing it never happened and it worked.

Hosea is the only one that knows this, he lets Dutch live his delusions.

Hosea

Also, a great person to be with for a first time.

He obviously cannot be smoking anymore so he mainly watches over everyone else and observe whatever they do because they're always doing something

Though, if anyone pisses him off he will make them believe there's things that aren't actually there. Sean is the biggest victim of this.

"Hey, was that your friend you were with just now?" "What friend?" "The one behind you earlier. Tall feller, you must've not seen them."

Abigail

After having Jack, she stopped but she was starting to hate the smell and taste anyways. Blunts are the word offenders in her opinion.

If John tries to kiss her after any sesh she immediately slaps him and tells him to brush his teeth.

She'll take an edible with the girls though, after a lot of convincing and Jack put to sleep for the night.

Pearson

The best cook only when fried, it's a little jarring seeing the difference between his sober dishes.

He's like that "so booommmm tiktok" guy

Always so creative with his stuff and it comes out really good.

Everyone cheers when he decides to smoke a bit

Made edibles as gifts before, more than likely to Sean or Javier.

Sadie

Everyone thinks it'll calm her down from being so aggressive. It does not.

She might be worse actually.

But she's so incredible fun to be around, like every activity the gang decides to do was her idea.

Hosea doesn't do his tricks on her but she never pisses him off anyways.

Kieran

The only one actually doing it medically.

He'll smoke with the rest of the gang too, one of the few times he's comfortable chilling around them. He's just really quiet and never talks.

Anyone else not mentioned I js didn't have anything for them sorry </3

[wannabanauthor]

The more I think about a jealousy arc for BuckTommy, the more I crave it in fanfiction form.

Post breakup, post hookup and morning after, post Bobby going off to WitSec (still not acknowledging that death), and Buck happens to come across Tommy and another guy.

They don’t see him, but he hides anyway so he can spy on them.

They’re laughing, smiling at each other, “lingering touches” (in Buck’s mind, IRL it’s just two guys showing platonic physical affection like brothers or best friends would do), they’re carrying some shopping bags, and they just look so happy and fond of each other.

Buck doesn’t reveal himself because he thinks he’s missed his chance and that Tommy has moved on.

And true to form, Buck doesn’t reach out to Tommy, and instead pouts and mourns what he thinks is the permanent end of their relationship.

He talks himself out of contacting Tommy. But this time, he doesn’t talk to anyone else about it. He’s internalizing it, which is not good, especially since he’s still grieving Bobby’s retirement (still in denial).

It’s not until someone at the 118, maybe Ravi, notices that something’s up with Buck and asks him about it.

And Buck being Buck says, “Nothing, I just miss Bobby.”

Chimney and Hen look at each other then back at Buck.

“Fine!” Buck says. “The other day I saw Tommy on a date with someone.”

Chimney and Hen look slightly uncomfortable, and Buck picks up on that.

“What? Do you know something?” Buck asks.

Hen speaks first. “Are you sure it was a date?”

“What else could it be?” Bucks says.

“You do realize he has friends outside of work, right?” Chimney says.

Buck looks confused. “So?”

“So, what if he was out with a friend?” Chimney points out.

Buck shakes his head. “No, I would know if the guy was his friend.”

“How?”

“Because I met his friends!”

“A long time ago. It’s been months since you two broke up. He could have made a new friend,” Hen says.

“Please, friends don’t laugh like that or jokingly punch each other. The dude even checked out Tommy’s ass,” Buck counters.

(No, the guy did not. Tommy’s FRIEND is jealous that Tommy has a better ass than him. He’s not interested in Tommy at all. He glared briefly at Tommy’s ass).

Hen and Chimney look at each other like they want to give up. They pass. Various looks between each other, having a huge silent conversation right in front of Buck.

Chimney smiles at Hen, mouths “good luck” and walks away while scrolling through his phone.

Hen sits down next to Buck. “Maybe it’s time for you to reach out to Tommy. Regardless if he’s dating or not. You obviously want something from him, and maybe that’s closure.”

“I don’t want closure. I want to get back together with him,” Buck says.

“Then tell him that,” Hen says

Buck scoffs at that. “I can’t just tell him that. It’d be random, out of place, and he wouldn’t care because he’s already moved on.”

“What if Tommy thought the same about you? That you’re no longer interested in him, that it’d be random and weird if he told you he still had feelings for you.” Hen points out.

Buck scoffs again. “No, he knows I still have feelings for him.”

“How would he know that?” Hen asks, very pointedly.

“Well, because I’ve told—oh.” It finally dawns on Buck.

Hen just nods. “Yeah, didn’t think that one all the way through, did you?”

Bucks puts his head down on the table and sighs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fucked up.”

“No,” Chimney says as he walks back to them. “You Bucked up.”

Buck frowns. “I know! I know! Wait, why did you step away and come back?”

“Listen, kid, as much as we wanted you to figure this shit out on your own, I’m tired of you talking yourself out of potential happiness. Bobby’s gone. We’re all doing the best we can to adjust to this new normal, and you’re potentially isolating yourself from people who care about you,” Chimney says.

“If you want Tommy back, tell him,” Hen adds.

Buck gives them an eye roll. “How am I supposed to do that? Would he even take my call?”

Then they hear a helicopter landing outside.

Buck looks at Chimney. “You never answered my question. What did you do?”

Chimney gives him a big smile. “Now’s your chance to tell him.”

“What?!”

“Buck, if you don’t tell him, I’m playing him the recording of this entire conversation,” Hen says.

“That’s against HIPAA!”

Nobody even dignifies that with a response. He’s panicking.

Buck can’t bring himself to lift his head as Tommy walked over to them.

“Hey Tommy, you got here quick,” Chimney says and gives Tommy half a hug.

“I was already in the air and headed back when you called,” Tommy says and looks over at Buck.

“Got anything you want to say to Tommy?” Hen prompts.

“I saw you on a date with another guy,” Buck says, way too quickly.

He finally looks at Tommy and notices his puzzled expression.

Both Hen and Chimney sigh.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Tommy says.

“But were you on a date?” Buck asks.

Tommy crosses his arms. “Is this really what I’m here for?”

Chimney pulls up a chair for him. “Tommy came all this way for you and him to talk,” he says to Buck. “So talk to him.”

Chimney and Hen turn to leave.

“What? No help?” Buck asks.

“I got him here, and the rest is up to you. We can’t do this for you. You need to tell him yourself,” Chimney says and walks away with Hen.

“So…what’s going on?” Tommy asks.

“Was it a date?”

“No, Evan.”

“Then who was he?”

Tommy looks like he’s about to answer then doesn’t.

Buck notices Tommy’s walls are up again, and he blames himself for that. Why would Tommy come back to him when there are other guys who could easily give Tommy the reassurance he wants/needs.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. “I’m so sorry.”

Tommy looks a little confused. “About what?”

“What I said. The morning after.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?!” Buck feels his anger and pain from the breakup surge back to life.

“What do you want me to say, Evan?”

Buck bristles at that. “Why won’t you tell me who he is if he wasn’t a date?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” Tommy snaps.

Buck is about to argue before he realizes that Tommy was right. Technically, it’s not Buck’s business. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something more to it.

“If you want to be my boyfriend again, then it is my business!” Buck snaps back.

“Wait, you want to get back together?”

“Of course! I didn’t even want to break up! You did!” Buck shouts. “Then when we had a chance to get back together, you accused me of having feelings for my best friend!”

The silence in the station is deafening.

Buck looks horrified at himself. “Shit, that’s not how I wanted to do this, and-“

Tommy surges forward and kisses Buck.

Buck’s eyes instantly close, and he kisses back. It’s practically muscle memory for him. He pulls back when he tastes tears.

“I missed you so much,” Buck whispers, a sob coming from his throat. He realizes that he’s the one with tears. But this time, he doesn’t let his fear stop him.

“I love you,” Buck says. “I’m in love with you. I never stopped having feelings for you. I know I’ve fucked up so many times, but I want another chance.”

Tommy cups Buck’s jaw and kisses him lightly on the nose. “I love you too. Technically, it should be me asking you for another chance. I was the one who broke up with you, and I’m so sorry. I got scared and ran because I knew I couldn’t survive you breaking my heart, so I broke it for you.”

“Tommy,” Buck whispers as he sees tears pour from Tommy’s eyes. He pulls Tommy closer to him, and Tommy lets him. “Will you be my boyfriend again?”

Tommy has the audacity to snort. “Of course, I will.”

Buck smiles so big that Tommy can’t help but kiss him again and again.

“I love you so much,” Tommy mutters against Buck’s lips. “I thought I’d never have the chance to fix things.”

“Hey,” Buck says softly. “I’m here. We’re back together. We’ll figure shit out.”

Tommy chuckles. “I hope so.”

“Maybe let’s take things slower this time,” Buck suggests.

“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” Tommy murmurs. He’s staring at Buck’s lips mostly, so Buck gives him another tender kiss.

Then he remember something. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?” Tommy hums as he places kisses along Buck’s jaw. Yeah, they’re still at the station, but they’re in their own world.

“So who was that guy?”

“Oh, that was my ex, Sal. He and I had a thing way back when we worked here. We broke up after he got fired, and he moved to Texas. He came in town to pay his respects to Bobby. We squashed our past several years ago and became friends. We hung out while we were catching up. He says there’s this cute guy in Texas that he’s been eyeing. His crush rents a house right next to him. He’s an Uber driver, I think.”

Buck watches a Tommy closely. “Sal or his crush?”

“Uber driver? His crush.”

“Oh, no,” Buck says. “Eddie is an Uber driver.”

“No, please no,” Tommy says and grabs his phone and hurriedly texts Sal. “Wait, are you sure Eddie’s straight?”

“Yes! For the last time, yes. He’s only interested in women. Wait, does that mean you were trying to get with him when you first met because a helicopter ride to Vegas is very suspect?”

Tommy starts laughing. “No, I was not interested in him like that. He was just a friend.”

“How do I know that you never had feelings for him?”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Har har, very funny.”

Buck smiles. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Funny enough, I heard from Eddie after Bobby’s funeral, and he was thinking of moving back to LA.”

“No, he’s not. He would have told me.”

“He didn’t want to since you are subletting his former house. But I wouldn’t worry. If he ever comes back, you can just move in with me.”

Buck almost does a double take and notices Tommy fidgeting. Oh, he’s serious.

Buck gives him a huge smile and leans in to kiss him. “You’re lucky that I love you.”

[multiheadcanons]

THE MERCS EATING ABSOLUTE SHIT ON THE BATTLEFIELD

scout: alright, scout can admit that he can get a little… a lot cocky. and that cockiness can, sometimes, occasionally… get him in shit he can’t run from. but by far, his dumbest moment, that even he’s willing to admit was pretty stupid, was after he had what he would call a really good day, running around with the doctor, he got a little too hyped for the moment as he was running, and he didn’t hear the doctor screech at him to turn, or maybe he did and didn’t care, and… he walked off the map. nobody let him forget that for a couple of months.

soldier: rocket jumping was a very difficult concept for soldier to pick up on. there are many moments of him trying to pull off bold, cocky plays, but the worst was always when he would almost pull it off and kill himself in the retreat. that shit had him punching the supply locker in the respawn room. he was getting so upset that he would get so close to pulling off a flawless execution of a perfect plan and he would fuck up on the final part… the team had to figure out how to help him out with rocket jumping so engineer didn’t have to keep replacing the locker.

pyro: pyro is given quite a bit of grace by their teammates. nobody really judges them for their… quirks, and what some could call… flaws. but what pisses the team off the most, and subsequently embarrasses pyro the most, is getting a spycheck wrong. especially when they’re convinced that they’re right when they are thoroughly wrong. and it pisses the team off more than anything. they’re already worried about one flamethrower, so why is the one that’s on their team following them instead of doing their job? when they finally get it through pyro’s head, pyro is so ashamed, and they’re both so far out of position by the time either one of them get to their stations the battle will most likely be over.

demo: demo is generally grateful for the respawn machine. because demo doesn’t think sometimes. and the only example demo has of this is while he was standing on the point, defending the point, you know, his whole job, he watched the blu team all begin to converge in one direction. he knew there was bound to be a massive push for his point. and he didn’t take the time to prepare. so when the push inevitably came, and he watched them all approach, in a panic, he emptied his sticky bomb launcher. and then advanced to them as he pulled the trigger. and in his defense, he really thought he would’ve taken at least some of them out. he didn’t think he was the only thing the bombs were going to take out. they lost that round, and nobody was really sure how.

heavy: you know, in situations like these, he almost does get why their strategies on the field had to change. because there is no reason the attackers... are defending right now other than they suck. but dammit, he's trying. and he really wasn't sure why he sent the doctor out there without any cover. that wasn't his brightest call, and he knew that through the doctor's stressed and baffled stare before he steeled himself and stepped out from behind their shared cover. he will probably pay for this later. but right now, all he can do is rub his temples and groan. he’ll have to double his efforts tomorrow to make up for this. he thinks he’s done trying for today.

engineer: the texan admits he’s a scrapper. he’s never been afraid of holding his own against an enemy. and he never will be. the texan doesn’t run unless there’s no other choice. and usually, he doesn’t have to! he doesn’t have to until he’s getting overpowered on one front, and as the team urges him to take whatever building he can grab first and run, and he does so, he realizes his stubbornness got them surrounded. but the one good thing about engineer is he learns from his mistakes. he won’t get his team caught like that again. he’ll get them caught some other way.

medic: he seriously didn’t know what was going through his brain. he can only assume he just wasn’t thinking. or maybe he was and he made a calculated risk and it didn’t work. but he didn’t know what could possess him to think he could successfully take down the heavy on the enemy team. in his defense, before the man got him on the ground then put his foot on the doctor’s ribcage, is at least he got a couple hits in. five successful hits in a row is harder to achieve than he thought. but, and this may be another poor risk calculation, he thinks next time he’s got it.

sniper: the australian has tunnel vision. okay there, he said it. everyone can get off his back now. he knows he gets a little too focused, he’s genuinely trying to do his job. that requires focus. focus is hard enough to get from this team on a good day. and yeah, it did piss him off that he, while focusing so hard on the heads connected to bodies running past his sight lines, that he didn’t realize he was moving until he fell down the hill. and as he tumbled, he reached out, attempting to stop himself in any way he can… and failed. he was livid as he made the trip to the respawn room.

spy: it was hands down one of the dumbest ways to die he’d ever experienced. but frankly, the fact he was even getting into a melee battle… with the scout… that should’ve gotten him fired. that wasn’t intelligent at all. so when he misread a cue, or hell, maybe the bostonian successfully faked him out, and he advanced on the scout, knife primed, he didn’t expect the kid to take hold of his lapel. and the burn of the shotgun shells obliterating his organs did not overshadow the sudden feeling of being pushed, and his feet never again finding purchase on solid ground. nor his ass. or back. wait. were they seriously fighting by the cliffside? this was not his finest moment.

[effietrinket1619]

Some headcanons for you…

Jess, Simon, Kyle, and Keli have all been carried to bed by Hal at least once. Keli more than once. Guy, John, and Jo can figure out who Hal carried to bed the night before based on how much he complains about his back hurting.

The movie that gets watched the most by the group is Treasure Planet.

There’s a video on Jess’ TikTok where they’re having an actual water gun fight. Half the comments are about a moment where Guy gets ambushed by everybody, and the other half is people thirsting after Hal and a few people saying that Kyle has a sleeper build

Kyle once managed to cut his face badly. No one else actually knows how it happened, and even he doesn’t actually know at what point it happened. He’d been home alone and the others all got home to find him sitting at the dining room table eating leftovers and practically covered in blood. This was the day that they all learned that Kyle has an unusually high pain tolerance.

THRILLED people are giving me material for my own au because i run out of ideas so fast

YES hal carries these people to bed. guy and john literally tell him that he doesn't have to as he hoists jess up for the umpteenth time that month and complains about it, but hal literally ignores them flat out or throws a pillow at them before trotting off to do his duty. he cannot be stopped. also it's so dear to me that keli gets that childhood experience of falling asleep on the couch and waking up in your own bed. jo is a little concerned for the old man's back. hal is mad about it (she's right to be worried)

i've never watched treasure planet but after skimming the summary fuck yeah i agree. i think lilo and stitch would also be a favourite based purely on vibes. guy did have to do a purge of their dvd collection because certain movies are just not kid friendly enough.

also lantern movie nights? kinda chaotic when jess and kyle can wrangle the lot of them that night. given their shitty sleep schedules and the unending whims of the guardians, it's so difficult. but they go all out with snacks and fighting over the movie selection and everyone takes turns throwing popcorn at the others (guy and kyle are the usual targets but at least guy can catch the popcorn in his mouth). the movie is torn to shreds if it's an action flick because if there are planes or cars of any kind, simon and hal are fucking on it immediately. 'that's not how it works--' 'SHUT THE FUCK UP JORDAN'

the water fight video? jess thought it'd be a fun and innocent video where they all gang up on guy and laugh about it afterwards. instead, now she's dealing with the thirst comments. after all of them (because when you live with people long enough, everything other people see as new and interesting becomes background noise to you and jess could not have predicted the fallout here in a billion years). hal is the obvious highlight and it's the first time anyone sees him even semi shirtless which might as well break the internet but everyone else? kyle's sleeper build is great and all but they're all superheroes and they're all hot. simon, john and guy get their fair share of attention too and jo and jess? yeah she cannot show anyone these comments for fear of inflating certain people's egos and making other people uncomfortable.

the lanterns' pain tolerance i fear is legendary. they've all been tortured enough to not blink at most things and no one can tell if that's a good thing or not. that instance of kyle getting cut isn't even an isolated one. it still scares the shit out of them all because concussions and brain injuries (god forbid anyone else get severely brain damaged in this family) and kyle insists he straight up didn't know he looks like a murder scene come to life until guy dropped his glass upon seeing him.

of course, then there's the fussing and the ribbing and the mild yelling because what do you mean you didn't know you're bleeding out. it doesn't help that head wounds bleed a stupid amount so it looks a lot worse than it probably is. and honestly? kyle mostly likely got it from standing up and slamming face first into the sharp edge of a cabinet door. something ridiculous like that which he brushed off.

anyway, kyle rayner, as it turns out, might be the ongoing cause of hal's new grey hairs. kyle denies any and all blame. hal needs a new box of dye.

[hitmehardnsweet]

not to rant about you netflix but it’s fascinating to me how bronte’s arrival is kinda where a flip switches with us as an audience with joe and how she is sort of an insert of the audience. generally speaking, we started watching the show knowing what joe does. we know this and we watch him stalk and kill and we accept that that’s who he is whilst feeling almost sympathetic towards him. he seems like a genuinely good guy!! he didn’t do what he’s done in bad faith!!

and bronte, learning about him for years, knows of joe the same way we did. and just like with us, his charm manipulates her to feel the way we did watching the previous 4 seasons.

but now,upon her arrival, as a viewer we have evolved passed that. we learned earlier that joe has been “clean” and happy for the last 3 years. he has his son back and kate genuinely loves him for the bad parts he has actually shared with her. and then bronte shows up and it’s like “really?? again??? for THIS girl????” she’s meant to be unlikeable. she’s ruining everything.

and that’s what flips the script on joe for us. now we’re tired of his shit. he’s going to throw away everything for this girl. he really is never going to change. we hoped, even after all we saw him do, that he would. because we were made to feel that way with his unreliable narration. kate was it. kate was everything.

and now we no longer feel that way. and that’s why it’s so sos soooooo satisfying when joe gets caught on camera killing that guy. (i forgot his name rip in pieces) Bronte played him like a fiddle. after years of watching him outsmart everyone, someone finally outsmarted him. big time. and it’s exactly what he deserved. until it wasn’t. bronte remains as we did as viewers. believing that joe wasn’t really a bad guy despite seeing it with her own eyes.

it’s starting to get frustrating especially as kate is figuring everything out and planning to stop him for good. it still feels hopeless. you start rooting for kate harder and harder as we watch bronte flip flop between questioning joe’s authenticity and wanting to believe he’s different this time. for her. how romantic of her to believe that. it’s annoyingly frustrating at this point. we figured it out, why can’t she?? and the moment she finally does hits like crack.

we root for joe to get what’s coming to him. some don’t like the idea of bronte being the “final girl” but that’s the point. bronte is us. the evolution of her feelings about joe mirror ours in the most frustrating way. and it’s so so so soooooo satisfying to watch him rot away alone in jail. the loneliness is eating him alive. it’s what he deserves. death would have been too peaceful for him. he needs to fester in his thoughts and memories of what he did and why he’s there.

joe’s last line is so painfully accurate. whether You wanna admit it or not.

anyway congrats netflix for not fumbling for once ig. im high

[anon-188]

pairing: AJ x f!reader | genre: fluff 🤍 | wc: 1.5k

summary: you were determined to make an old fashioned, you really were. but eagerness doesn’t always translate into success. good thing AJ knows how to step in—hands first, mouth second.

warnings: domestic tension, soft teasing, suggestive language, low heat, playful!AJ, neck kisses, fluff, established relationship, light spice undertone, mild explicit language, alcohol use.

a/n: here's some fluff—well, my version of it anyway. needed something soft to balance out the absolute filth of my last post. don't worry though, there's a good chance an alternative version of this one is already in the works ;) enjoyyy ♡

It was late—the kind of late that blurred time, where the world outside the bar felt nonexistent. Jake had closed up hours ago, but that never meant leaving. Not for this crew. Upstairs, the guys were still going strong, voices carrying through the bar in bursts of laughter and too-loud arguments over shit no one would remember tomorrow. Cigars were being passed, half-finished bottles lined the table, and no one was keeping track of anything—least of all how far past their limit they were.

But AJ? AJ always knew when to disappear.

He’d wait for the noise to settle, just enough, then slip away. The others wouldn’t notice—wouldn’t care. Because they already knew where he was going. Where he always went once the chaos quieted down. You.

Sometimes it was just behind a corner, where he’d press you against the wall, mouth brushing your ear just to tell you how good you looked. Other times, it was up on the rooftop, where the air was cooler, quieter—and his hands didn’t even try to behave.

And while you loved those moments—his hunger, the way he touched you like he couldn’t help it—you also loved his sweet side. Like tonight.

You were standing behind the bar with AJ, trying (and very clearly failing) to make an Old Fashioned on your own.

“Wait. What?” you asked, brows pinched as you held a glass already half full of ice.

“Baby, no,” AJ said, chuckling low as he reached over and gently took the glass from you.

He tossed the ice into the sink and set the empty glass off to the side. “Ice comes later, and this is the wrong glass for it anyway,” he added with a smile like he wasn’t completely calling you out.

You didn’t respond, not immediately. But he caught the way your tongue pushed against the inside of your cheek—your tell. That small, silent signal you always gave when you were trying really hard not to get annoyed. You’d told him you wanted to do it yourself, that it couldn’t be that hard. 

And you meant it. He knew that. You were eager, always willing to learn—and he loved that about you. But he also knew it made you stubborn as hell.

Still, his smile stayed on his face, completely unbothered—even when you sighed and crossed your arms, eyes narrowing at the now empty glass. 

"Come here," he said, nodding as his gaze finally caught yours again. "I'll show you."

He reached for you, gentle but firm, and you resisted—just enough to make a point. But it didn’t last. It never did. You gave in, a smile tugging at your lips before you could stop it.

AJ pulled you closer until your back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapped loose around your waist. You felt him lean forward, reaching past you with that effortless confidence to grab the right glass—a lowball.

You hummed under your breath, and he laughed softly behind you as he set it down in front of you. He moved again, his arm grazing yours as he reached for the bottle of simple syrup.

“Start with this,” he murmured against your ear as he handed it to you. “Just a little.”

You tilted it carefully, pouring slow, while he watched over your shoulder—his voice low and close. “That’s good.”

Setting the bottle down, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he was already reaching past you again. “Now,” he said, grabbing the small bottle of bitters, “a few dashes of this. Over the sugar.”

You followed his instructions, wrist flicking carefully as the bitters splashed into the glass, blooming dark against the syrup. AJ didn’t say anything—just chuckled softly as you carefully tapped it once, twice, three times before you set the bottle aside.

Then came the muddler. He set it gently in your hand. “Mix it—just enough to dissolve the sugar.”

Your brows furrowed with focus as you got to work, only for both of his hands to find your hips, fingers settling into his favorite spot.

“Easy, baby,” he said, voice warm and teasing. “It’s not going anywhere.”

A soft laugh slipped from you, and your movements relaxed. The mix started to come together, sweet and spiced, and when you were done, you set the muddler aside with a small clink.

“Now you can put in the ice,” he said, lips brushing your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, half-smiling, and dropped the ice in piece by piece.

Next came the bourbon. He unscrewed the top, handing you the bottle.

“Slow. I’ll tell you when.”

The amber liquid slid smoothly over the ice, your pour slow, just like he said. His hand came around, tapping your wrist.

“Right there.”

He set the bottle aside for you, his touch wandering lower—slow and unhurried—as he leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, then one higher, near your neck.

“Now stir,” he said. “Gently.”

Careful and smooth, you stirred the drink as AJ’s fingers traced lazy shapes against your waist the entire time.

Finally, he handed you the orange peel. “Last step—twist it over the glass. Then drop it in.”

You did as he said, the scent of citrus rising faintly in front of you. Then, you dropped it into the glass.

As you studied your handiwork, you huffed out a laugh—proud of the cocktail. You grabbed the glass and turned to face him fully, holding it out. He took it, fingers brushing yours—drawn out on purpose.

Your hands dropped to your hips as you watched him take a sip, eyes scanning his face for a reaction—though with AJ, that was nearly always a lost cause.

“Thoughts?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, teasing.

He lowered the glass slowly, already smirking. “Delicious.”

You arched a brow. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” he replied, smirk deepening, eyes full with mischief. “This is the best Old Fashioned I’ve ever had. Swear.”

His grin widened as your eyes narrowed, suspicious but amused. Still, you rolled them anyway, shaking your head.

“What?” he said, voice lazy and teasing. “You don’t believe me?”

You held your ground, giving him that look—the “serious” one that made him laugh more often than not. 

“You want to taste it?” he added, that playful look never leaving him.

“Yeah, I do,” you said quickly—ready to call him on his bullshit.

He nodded once, lifted the glass, and took another slow sip—eyes still locked on you like he was savoring the drink and the moment in equal measure. Then, without missing a beat, he lowered the glass and kissed you—his lips cool and sweet with the remnants of bourbon and bitters. You kissed him back for half a second before breaking into a laugh against his mouth.

He pulled back, his smile spreading wide across his lips. “Is that not what you meant?” he asked, entirely too pleased with himself.

You flashed him another look—part amused, part unimpressed—but your lips were already twitching as you grabbed the drink from his hand and took a small sip.

Your eyebrows raised slightly. To your surprise—it was actually good.

“See?” he said, already smug. “Better hope Jake doesn’t catch you pouring like that—he’ll have to fire Lili on the spot.” 

“Shut up,” you said under your breath as you gave his shoulder a half-hearted shove.

He laughed, catching your hand in his—then gently guided it up and around his neck as he slid the glass from your grip, setting it on the bar behind you. 

His mouth found yours again—softer this time, but like he meant it. Because he did. He always did. Your other arm came up slowly, looping around his neck as well, pulling him closer until there wasn’t much space left between you at all.

After a moment you pulled back slightly, lips still hovering close to his. “Thank you for teaching me,” you murmured, softly.

AJ’s eyes dropped to your mouth, then back up. “Anytime,” he said, voice low and full of suggestion. “But if that’s your way of asking for another lesson…”—his hands slid down to your hips, then roamed slowly over your body, fingers bold—“I’ve got a few things I could show you.”

Before you could answer, he kissed you—quick, then slower. His mouth lingering just long enough to make your breath catch before he dipped lower, brushing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. One after another, light, fast, and teasing.

By the third kiss, you were already laughing—shoulders jerking as you tried to wiggle away. Your elbow bumped the glass behind you, nearly knocking it over.

“AJ!” you yelped, breathless, half-scolding as your elbow moved dangerously close to the glass again. “We’re gonna knock it over.”

“Good,” he murmured against your neck—lips brushing your skin as he grinned. “Gives me a reason to stay down here a little longer.” Then he kissed you again—slow and warm, like the rest of the world could wait, like being here with you was the only thing that mattered. 

Because in his mind? It was. 

please do not repost, copy, or claim my work as your own.

tag list: @alealuvshayden @haydenchristensenisbae @sythethecarrot

(my mentions have been a little glitchy lately, so if it’s not tagging you, let me know!!)

if you want to be tagged in my future posts, just let me know (comment or message me). i’m happy to do it! :)

links: materlist

[klarolinexluv]

No matter who you ship her with, the other is always down bad for Lily Evans because they don’t take lightly to someone messing with her.

James Potter? Well that’s self explanatory. He’d do anything she asked, anything. Nothing is too big or small. You wrong Lily and James is looking over her shoulder with the biggest grin, the kind of grin that is terrifying to see because rage is burning in his eyes. You’ll know he is planning something but you will never know what until it’s too late.

Regulus Black? Would kill for her, without question, without hesitation. He would go to any lengths, any means necessary to protect and love her. You say something remotely negative against her, (like whispering she has weird hair or something) and you will find yourself in a world of trouble. The rumours that come out about you will be unstoppable and so believable. You wouldn’t even know who started them but Lily knows.

Barty Crouch Jr? Would also kill for her but would deny he ever did it to everyone including her. Barty is so unhinged in how he looks after what he perceives to be his and Lily is no different. Think Regulus but without any restrictions/restraint (because Reg never goes too far, Barty crosses that line gleefully).

Evan Rosier? You said something he didn’t like about Lily? Damn, I hope your aunt recovers from that horrible poison she’s suffering from. Your best friend is ill? How worrisome, here give them this cookie. Nothing bad will happen, promise. Oh, you’re struggling in a class? That’s too bad, here have this potion, it helps with focus… no there aren’t any side effects, don’t worry about it.

Pandora Lovegood? You don’t see her coming until it’s too late. She will tear anyone a new one simply for looking at Lily wrong. You don’t even think that she will do anything, she’s so nice and sweet and suddenly you are hanging from your ankles outside the great hall with no way down, you’ve been there all night.

Mary MacDonald? You will never escape her glare. EVER. You slight Lily once and Mary will hold a grudge for all eternity. She will constantly bring up things that embarrass you casually into conversation and act like that was a normal topic to talk about. She’ll basically make your life an uncomfortable mess until she grows bored of playing with you. She will never forget what you did and she will randomly start up again later just because she can.

Narcissa Black? You will never step foot outside your house ever again. Your reputation would never recover. You’d be the laughing stock of society. People will stop talking when you approach them. You’re social life would be so awkward to nonexistant. And Narcissa will catch your eye and smirk so cruelly, you’ll quickly leave without second thought.

Marlene McKinnon? She is constantly around you for some reason. Constantly lurking. She offers to be your partner in class and has a glare so strong that nobody argues. She is constantly making snide remarks to your face about you. Little things that will get on your nerves. Marlene makes your life unbearable and then when it gets to a point where you are going to break, she’s suddenly gone. You are left on the edge of your seat waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’ll pop up every so often just to keep you on edge.

Dorcas Meadows? She isn’t afraid to use her beaters bat. It’s not that she carries it around her all the time but it definitely feels like it. She never makes the threat, not verbally anyway. But she’ll stare you down with her bat in her hands, swinging it or just playing with it to make the unsaid obvious. Once on Dorcas’ shit list, it is very hard to leave it.

Remus Lupin? He is the type to sit back and wait. Let you make the mistake of insulting Lily and then he will watch as your life falls apart. You worked for hours on an essay but now it’s missing? Oh and it’s due tomorrow and it’s like the biggest paper for your grade? How awful. He’ll make you think you are losing your mind, constantly moving or taking your things without you noticing and putting them somewhere else. He’s pulling Lily to his chest and glaring so coldly over her shoulder, most if not everyone will be scared off.

Sirius Black? He will prank you. Without mercy. And you will know he is pranking you because he is always there when it happens. Itching powder in your clothes. Dungbombs in your bag. Hexing your shoe laces together. Sticking charm on your seat. Everything. He will hold a grudge for the rest of his life, you wrong the people he calls his own, especially Lily and you will never know peace again. Sirius would also go to extreme lengths to make Lily feel protected and loved.

[authorautumnbanks]

Stranded With A Demon Lord and the Strongest Sorcerer (10)

Read Chapter 9

Satoru drums his fingers on his knee as he sits on the floor with his legs crossed. He's not sure what the deal is with this Yami dude, but what he does know is, the demon- half demon—better stop looking at Kagome like that before he breaks his fucking teeth.

Just because Yami looks like a kid doesn't mean he is one...so yeah, he can get all the smoke if he doesn't fix his face. Satoru turns his head ever so slightly to the side and observes Sesshomaru.

No reaction. No emotion. Nothing. Sesshomaru gives nothing and everything away. He's just as pissed-if not more so- as Satoru.

He chuckles to himself and goes back to watching Kagome.

"Ebeelx, is it possible for us to have a room to sleep in? I think we'll be staying around here for a bit longer if you don't mind," Kagome says, rubbing the back of her neck.

Is her neck bothering her?

Satoru stops drumming his fingers and gets up to move closer to her. He places his hands over her shoulders and massages the muscles.

"Oh, thank you." She flashes him a smile before turning her attention back to the goblin. "If not, we could find somewhere else to camp for the night. We wouldn't want to put someone out or make things uncomfortable."

"No!" The goblin throws their hands out in front of them and shakes their hand. "My lady! No! Please do not rest somewhere else. We are more than capable of providing lodging for you...and it shall soon rain. We would hate for you to be out in the rain and then have to dry your clothes."

"If you don't mind..." Kagome tilts her head to the side. "Right there. That's been bothering me all day."

Satoru presses his thumbs and kneads the tension.

"Are you two fucking serious?" the green-haired demon, Yami, complains. "Just kill me now. No one is trying to watch this shit." He sits off to the side, closer to Sesshomaru, with his arms bound with rope and chain. Earlier, Kagome pressed a hand to the rope before Sesshomaru tied the demon up. Satoru isn't quite sure what Kagome did to the rope, but Yami was fuming because of it.

Sesshomaru lifts a hand and sprays poison in Yami's face, knocking him out.

"Sesshomaru! You can't keep knocking him out every time he says something you don't like," Kagome lectures. "We might need his input."

"This Sesshomaru has not killed him at your request. That is mercy enough."

"Okay, but if you keep doing that, then he just might build a tolerance for your poison."

It's subtle, but Sesshomaru's lips twitch as if the mere thought is laughable. He glances at Yami's slumped over form and then at Ebleex. "Goblin, what do you know of the half-breed?"

Ebleex falters and then straightens their back, attempting to appear larger than they are, but their shoulders give way and drop before they can even mutter a word. "If there is a Chosen One, then there is always a Foul One that soon follows. The Foul One should have caused destruction first, but we are indeed lucky in that the gods saw fit to bring the Chosen One to our village before any harm could truly befall us." Ebleex places their hands on the floor and bows. "I thank you my Lady."

"Now—"

"This Sesshomaru grows tired. Get to the point."

"I—I," Ebleex clears his throat. "The Foul One is told to be a monster that does not fit in with anyone being. They bring destruction and despair wherever they set foot, destroying lives for the sport of it. They do not care about customs or for the well-being of others. The Foul One will bring death to the world unless they are reformed."

Reformed?

"So, we can kill him?" Satoru questions.

"Death is another way of rebirth, I suppose," Ebleex agrees. "The tale never specified if it were through death or through other means."

"Tell me, are there others like Yami? You know those that are a mix of two different species?"

"Yes... but they are shunned out of fear they will become the Foul One. We have none in our village as we are-were- a goblin community until the centaurs made peace with us." Ebleex lifts his head, but keeps his eyes downcast. "Argol is a warrior, and thus, he may have traveled further than I. He may be more of use to you."

"No," Sesshomaru says.

"No?" Kagome sighs. "If there are others like Yami—like InuYasha—then we should probably start there. Sounds like the discrimination here is awful." Kagome mutters under her breath, something along the lines of: stubborn dog.

"Alright, so what you're saying is everyone in this world shuns those that are a mix of two different species because they could be the Foul One in this tale... if that is the case and it is so ingrained in your beliefs, why even procreate with one of another species?" Satoru asks. What parent would want their child subjected to that? He doesn't really get it. Satoru presses his lips together and then glances at Sesshomaru.

Okay, if they look like Sesshomaru, or like Kagome, then he gets it.

"The Foul One has worshippers. Some desire the downfall of the world, for they believe it will bring them salvation." Ebleex lifts one shoulder and shrugs. "I am but a simple goblin that only hopes to keep his village intact; the desires of world domination are foreign to me."

In other words, Ebleex doesn't know shit.

Satoru rolls his eyes.

"Well, I'm not okay with fighting Yami while he is a child. That feels morally wrong," Kagome says. "So, I guess the other method is to try to change his heart." She flashes a smile at Sesshomaru. "Let's try getting to know him."

"He wishes to follow in Naraku's footsteps," Sesshomaru deadpans.

"Okay. Okay. But! Naraku, or the heart of Naraku, was relieved to be free of that anger and despair. If Yami is a half-demon like InuYasha, then maybe we could appeal to his human side..." She shrugs out of Satoru's embrace and stands. She plants her hands on her hips and leans forward.

Satoru swallows.

"This is clearly a tale of the power of friendship."

Sesshomaru pinches the bridge of his nose. "Priestess. We are not befriending the half-breed. He has attempted to kill you several times and will not hesitate to do so again."

"You tried to kill me, and look at us now."

Satoru stiffens. "Not a good example."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because you're fucking him."

Kagome turns and grins. "Are you saying with the power of my magical..." she trails off and then grimaces. "Never mind. I wanted to tease you, but now I'm disgusted with myself." She shakes her head. "I still maintain this is a tale of the power of friendship. He just needs to be shown that there is more to life than having to look over your shoulder all the time. I mean, if I could get Koga to stop eating humans, then surely Yami can be shown people and demons discriminating against him are more reflective of them and not him."

Sesshomaru holds up his hand, inspecting his claws. "This is one of your many terrible ideas."

"Keep it up, and only Satoru gets cuddles tonight."

"The half-breed may travel with us."

Satoru chortles. "You folded so fast!"

"Watch your mouth."

Satoru snorts. "Or what?"

Sesshomaru grins.

Something in Satoru snaps. A warning. He runs his tongue over the top of his teeth and forces himself to remain seated. There's something... well... demonic about that smile. He didn't even feel this uneasy when he got sealed.

"I'm going to put a barrier around Yami for now," Kagome says, breaking the tension. "Oh, excuse me. Ebleex, is this where we will be sleeping for the night?"

"Y—yes, my lady! Please stay here. You may use my lodging as you please." Ebleex places a hand on their leg and then stands. "We will have a feast tonight, and I will continue to gather the information you requested." Ebleex bows once more and then scurries away.

"What was with him?"

"His nose is more sensitive than your own," Sesshomaru says. "The goblin must have smelled the cursed one's arousal."

"Kagome was damn near bent over in front of me."

"If that is the lie you wish to tell yourself."

Satoru frowns, slightly put out. Damn, can he get anything past Sesshomaru?

"Anyway, we should go back to that area and see if there is anyone from my world."

"This Sesshomaru detests backtracking. Priestess."

Kagome blinks. "Oh, sorry, I was daydreaming." She laughs and then turns towards Satoru. "Since we're hoping it is someone from your world, let's make sure they come face to face with a familiar face. I just need some of your hair." She plucks a couple of strands from his head before he can fully register what's she asking. "Thanks."

"... You're welcome?"

Kagome places her hand over her palm. It glows a soft pink. What is she doing with his hair? He should be concerned, but surprisingly, he's more curious than worried. Kagome opens her hands, and five human-shaped papers emerge where the hair strands were. They jump down and then stretch, slowly morphing into... him.

"Okay, Shikigami Satorus, can you find your way back to the area we arrived at and look around for anyone that might be from your world?"

The shikigami army nods slowly and then walks out of the hut.

Satoru blinks several times, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. "Did you just summon five of me?"

"Well, they aren't really you, but yes. I figured that way we can cover more ground and Sesshomaru hates backtracking, so we can keep moving forward while they cover any areas we missed."

Satoru wets his lips. "Can you make copies of yourself?" His mind flashes with images of being surrounded by nothing but Kagome.

"I could..." She laughs. "Nice try, but we aren't having a shikigami orgy."

"A sorcerer can dream," he says with a wistful smile on his face. "Not gonna back me up, Sesshomaru?"

"Place the barrier," Sesshomaru says, moving from his spot by the wall. He walks until he is in front of Satoru. The hairs on the back of Satoru's neck and arms rise. The air is charged.

Satoru cocks his head to the side and flashes teeth. Is Sesshomaru picking a fight with him? He stands and smirks down at Sesshomaru. Between the two of them, he is taller. Kagome's energy rises and then falls. She must have put up a barrier.

"I put up two," she says. "Now, this is Ebleex's home, you two. Don't destroy it."

Not like there is much to destroy in this small hut. There's a small cot off to the side, and in the middle of the room is a place for cooking.

"Good bitch," Sesshomaru says, but he looks at Satoru when he says it. "On your knees."

Oh.

Sesshomaru's demonic energy surges. The pressure is too much. Too heady. Against his better judgement, Satoru sinks to his knees. He grits his teeth, determined to put up a semblance of a fight, but then Kagome's energy mixes with Sesshomaru's and Satoru is a goner.

"Fuck!" His breath is ragged. "Warn a guy next time," he wheezes out, trying to get himself under control.

"Sorry," Kagome says, but there's not a hint of sincerity in her tone. "I didn't want the barriers to fail. Sesshomaru's energy is harder to contain than others." She walks over to him and sinks to her knees next to him. Her hand caress the back of his head. She threads her fingers through his hair. "No one can see or hear us."

Sesshomaru unfurls his cock from his pants. "Suck," he commands.

Satoru's upper lip curls back at being commanded to do anything, but then Kagome touches him. He closes his eyes, breathing in Sesshomaru's scent. His nose may not be as strong, but the word that comes to mind is power. Sesshomaru smells and exudes strength. Satoru opens his eyes and meets Sesshomaru's gaze.

Sesshomaru narrows his eyes.

"If you're not going to—"

Satoru opens his mouth and wraps his lips around Sesshomaru's length. He grunts. How the hell did Kagome take this?

Sesshomaru pinches Satoru's nose and smiles. There's something utterly devastating about that smile or it would be if Sesshomaru wasn't trying to choke him. Satoru's eyes sting as he sticks his tongue out further.

"Good bitch," Sesshomaru murmurs. "My bitch."

Satoru curses Sesshomaru in his mind. It feels like an eternity when Sesshomaru lets his nose go, and Satoru can finally breathe again. He pulls off, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen, but Sesshomaru is relentless. He grabs Satoru and drags him back on his cock. Sesshomaru works him as if Satoru is nothing more than a cock sleeve. It should piss him off, the utter disregard but...

Fucking hell.

"How does his cock taste?" Kagome asks, rubbing his back.

Satoru grunts.

"I'll take that, as it tastes too good to be true."

Sesshomaru pulls away and comes on Satoru's face. He tucks himself back into his pants and then holds a hand out to Kagome.

Satoru's eyes twitch. That mother fucker.

"Oi!"

"Clean my semen off like a good bitch," Sesshomaru says, wrapping an arm around Kagome. He bends ever so slightly and whispers something in her ear. Kagome's face flushes pink, but she nods.

Satoru glances at his hands. He could wipe it off, but something tells him that will tick Sesshomaru off. Kagome kneels in front of him and grabs his face. His ears burn. Kagome licks his face, cleaning Sesshomaru's come off.

Oh. He thought—

Kagome kisses him, wrapping her tongue around his, sharing Sesshomaru's come. His heart is as loud as thunder. If it beats any harder, he might fall over.

"Kagome," Satoru says, voice strained.

"There, now he's all clean." She kisses him again, this time pecking his lips.

Satoru reaches down and tries to readjust himself. They cannot be serious. He's dying here, but Kagome darts out of his reach and back to Sesshomaru's side.

"W—wait!" Satoru's nostrils flare as he inhales. "What about me?"

Sesshomaru smiles.

Oh, fuck him and fuck that smile. Satoru closes his eyes. He wishes Sesshomaru just fought him instead.

"Is that a no?"

"Come, Cursed One, we have a feast to get to."

Satoru grits his teeth.

Yeah, Sesshomaru should have just kicked his ass instead. This is much, much worse.

***

A/N: "Will Sesshomaru be known as Sesshomaru Gojo?" - Man would Satoru get a kick out of that lol

"Will there be more jjk characters in this world?" Yes, I'm still brainstorming who it will be. Okay, I have an idea of who it will be but I'm trying to figure out how I want to approach it.

Thanks for reading! Wishing you a wonderful and productive week ahead. I hope you were able to relax this weekend. Make sure to get plenty of rest and drink your water! Next update will be How To Tame. Might make it a longer chapter since we'll have the wedding and then Satoru is for sure gonna want to have 'wedding sex' or whatever he wants to call it lolol.

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do one where the triplets are filming a baking video and Chris two year old, innocently picks up a knife not knowing any better and cuts her finger and the video ends with them in the hospital sitting in Chris’s lap crying while she gets stitches, while matt and Nick try to make her laugh or make light of the situation

“Just a Little Cut”

The kitchen was full of flour, laughter, and the chaotic energy of a Sturniolo baking video.

Chris’s two-year-old daughter sat perched on a stool by the counter, giggling at the mess her dad and uncles were making. Her tiny apron said “Official Taste Tester,” and she was mostly just there to steal spoonfuls of frosting.

“Alright, you mix that—” Chris pointed at Matt.

“Why me?” Matt groaned. “I’m the worst at mixing!”

Nick laughed behind the camera. “And yet, you never stop volunteering.”

Chris leaned over his daughter. “Alright, peanut, what do you think? More chocolate chips?”

She nodded enthusiastically, smearing frosting on her nose.

It was perfect chaos—until it wasn’t.

The camera was still rolling when Chris turned to grab something from the fridge, and Matt and Nick started bickering over the amount of baking powder.

In those ten seconds, Chris’s daughter climbed down from her stool—curious eyes locking on a shiny paring knife left too close to the edge of the counter.

She reached for it.

“Hey—” Nick caught it just as she grabbed the handle, but it was too late.

A sudden, sharp cry rang out.

Chris turned in a split second. “What happened?!”

She was crying—sobbing, actually—clutching her tiny hand as blood welled up from a shallow cut on her finger.

Chris’s heart stopped.

“Oh my God—baby—” he scooped her into his arms immediately, voice trembling. “It’s okay. Daddy’s got you. You’re okay.”

Matt’s face had gone pale. “Shit—shit, I didn’t see—”

“Turn off the camera!” Nick barked, already grabbing a towel and pressing it gently against her hand.

Chris held her close, trying to stay calm even as panic pulsed through him. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

⸻

At the ER

She wouldn’t stop crying.

She was tired, scared, confused, and in pain—and the bright white lights of the emergency room didn’t help.

Chris sat with her in his lap, rocking her gently as her small body trembled against his chest. His hoodie was soaked with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered over and over, kissing the top of her head. “You’re okay now. Daddy’s here.”

Matt sat across from them, head in his hands. “I shouldn’t’ve put that knife there.”

“It was all of us,” Nick said quietly. “She’s two. She doesn’t know what’s dangerous. We should’ve been more careful.”

Chris didn’t say anything—just stared down at his daughter, brushing her curls back while the nurse cleaned her hand.

She whimpered when the doctor mentioned stitches.

“No stitches,” she cried. “No, no, Daddy, no!”

Chris hugged her tighter. “I know, baby, I know. It’s just one, okay? Just a little stitch, like a Band-Aid. I’ll hold your hand the whole time. Promise.”

Matt, trying not to tear up himself, knelt beside the chair and gently poked her nose. “Hey. You’re braver than your dad, you know that?”

Nick grinned. “Yeah, he almost passed out when he got stitches once.”

Chris let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks, guys.”

His daughter blinked through her tears, a small smile breaking through. “Really?”

“Really,” Matt nodded. “He cried like a baby.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

By the time the stitches were done, she was still sniffling—but her eyes were drowsy, and she clung to Chris’s shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to safety.

“You did so good,” Chris whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “So, so good.”

Nick grabbed a sticker from the nurse’s station. “You want the sparkly unicorn or the space rocket?”

She pointed sleepily at the unicorn, tucking it in her hand.

And on the way home, as she slept against Chris’s shoulder, her hand wrapped in gauze and her favorite blanket over her legs, the triplets didn’t say much.

But every now and then, Chris would tighten his hold just a little — like he was making sure she was still there.

Because accidents happen. Life gets messy.

But she was safe. She was okay.

And that was all that mattered.

⸻