#{ tried to leave this as vague as possible }

[buccellato]

Going a little insane thinking about how from Knives' perspective, his olive branch for Rem was rejected by his childhood perception of her loyalty to humanity, but Rem was assessing the situation as both a ship official and a parent and definitely making the choice she thought would maximize his and Vash's survival chances...like, if she was following duty as a crew member first and foremost, she'd head immediately to the bridge and tell the boys to head to the escape pods via comms or something. But instead she spent valuable minutes ensuring that Vash and Knives were safely strapped in and ready to escape, and then turned around to minimize the ship damage. Plus she had no actual way of knowing whether the plant ships were on a crash course, either—and while tristamp Nai can survive completely without food and water, no version of Vash has been shown to be able to do so completely (plus all other versions of Knives are shown at least drinking lol). So from her perspective she didn't just need to save both her kids and the humans on board, she also would've needed to save as many dependents as possible just so the boys had a way to stay alive.

She did the best she could do as a parent in that scenario, and Knives forever locked himself into a traumatized child's reasoning for her actions and blamed her to cope with it and then never reassessed from the perspective of an adult due to his, well, issues with everything. That's rough buddy.

[aurevell]

Returning the Favor Sterek | 5k | T

Stiles pays a nighttime visit to his boyfriend in secret, or so he thinks. Unfortunately, the Hale family has keener ears than he realizes.

It’s late when Derek hears the noise at the side of the house. A creak of siding that cuts through the backdrop of cricket song. Just one lone sound, but there’s something cautious about it. Probing.

He lowers the book he’s reading, but no other sounds follow. Derek has been lying sprawled across his bed, drowsy and warm and comfortable, sweatpant-clad legs resting against the wall—but now that he’s conscious of the sound, his focus sharpening, he thinks he’s been hearing quiet noises grow nearer for some time without quite comprehending them. A wild animal outside, maybe, creeping slowly around the foundation of the house. Something large enough that the mulch in the flower bed crunches beneath its weight.

It’s not often that a solitary animal grows bold enough to venture this close to a werewolf pack—the scent always scares them off first. They don’t even get raccoons out here, especially not with the cold this time of year. It could always be their cousin Warren, who’s always thought it funny to startle his relatives with unexpected visits in the dead of night. Or any one of the nasty things in Uncle Peter’s wild stories, supernatural things that creep into the house come dark.

Derek glances at the window, book still resting on his chest, but the house is still.

Maybe it’s gone. That’s just as well: he’s too comfortable to drag himself over to the window to look.

And then another sound comes, an unmistakable creak. Heavy weight settling into place.

Downstairs, his mother sighs. “What was that?” she demands, her voice faint with distance. She and his dad are likely out on the porch swing at this time of evening, even though it’s nearly winter, lunatics that they are. “If Laura and Cora are at it again—”

“I’m sure they aren’t, Tal,” Derek’s father replies, sounding amused. “You put the fear of god in them.”

Mom scoffs. “If we have to repair another door, it’s coming out of their pockets.”

“Not everything is my fault, Mom,” Cora mutters pointedly from down the hall. There’s heavy metal coming from the vicinity of Laura’s bedroom, just low enough to be blasting from her headphones, and she doesn’t pipe up to defend herself.

The thing hasn’t gone away. Metal squeaks a moment later, and then the scrabbling returns, punctuated by a thump and a muffled grunt.

Annoyed, Derek tosses the book aside and clambers to his feet, crossing over to the window. When he hoists up the sash, letting the night chill waft in, he peers down into the dark and finds that the source is worse than anything he could have imagined.

It’s his boyfriend, scaling the side of the house like some deranged cat burglar.

Stiles is hanging onto the drainpipe, having managed to hoist himself several feet off the ground. He’s leaning against the metal awning over the kitchen window, one foot atop the shutter and the other scrabbling for purchase against the siding. At the clatter of Derek’s opening window, he looks up, startled, and nearly loses his balance.

“What are you doing here?” Derek hisses.

“Just returning the favor.” With a moment to catch himself against the awning, Stiles gets his bearing and grins. “What? Don’t make that face. C’mon, you can show up at all hours of the night, but turnabout isn’t fair play?”

With that, he sticks his tongue between his teeth, which he sometimes does unconsciously when something demands his full attention. And the perilous task of climbing should get his full attention, given how often he stumbles when both of his feet are on the ground. God, Derek is about to witness his idiot boyfriend fall to his death or something.

Stiles heaves himself mostly onto the awning, clawing for purchase with a grunt. When he reaches for the window, he loses his grip, nearly sliding backward onto the grass; in a flash of panic, Derek grabs him by his shirt and yanks him forward.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demands, aware of their volume and even more aware of their audience.

The awning rattles as Stiles draws up his long legs to slip inside the window feet first, ducking under the sash. He’s panting a little as he pulls himself upright, though he bats his eyes sweetly in the face of Derek’s scowl. “Oh, please. I knew you’d catch me. ‘My hero,’ and all that.”

“Should have let you fall and die,” Derek retorts, shutting the window.

“Probably. Oh man, that was so athletic. Sometimes, I amaze myself.”

Derek doesn’t have anything smart to say to that. He’s only half paying attention, too busy bracing for the discussion sure to follow.

He and Stiles may as well have stomped up and down the stairs blowing air horns as far as the rest of the house goes. Everyone will have heard. Derek is absolutely sure because you can hear a pin drop, like no one’s even moving, like everyone’s waiting with bated breath—either gleeful or judgmental or both—to hear what comes next. Even Laura’s deafening headphones have gone silent. Fuck.

Worst of all…Stiles doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t yet know about the secret the Hale family hides, or how keenly they can hear, or that every word he says will be seized up and cheerfully dissected and gossiped about in real time.

Read the rest on AO3

[philicheesecake]

I love that your female characters don't have breasts. To be honest, such content has already become annoying: it is being shoved everywhere. But it's not like that with you. Everything in your content is acceptable and within the norm. It's pleasing to the eye.

CW talk about mature physical features, though we dance around the words so we’re trying to stay PG-13 with our wording here. Be mature yall.

———

Thank you. To clarify, I’m all for female characters having more present feminine features that aren’t solely to be objectified and sexualized. Unfortunately female characters are disproportionately sexualized in media. It’s a natural body part and afab people shouldn’t be sexualized for it against their will.

For my series’ lore however, I just thought it made most sense for my giant species to only really have a prominent chest if they’re actively raising an infant. Otherwise, there isn’t a functional use for that extra tissue, so it goes away when it isn’t in use, similar to most other mammalians. Humans are an unusual case where the extra chest tissue just sticks around. My giants don’t necessarily have a strict resemblance to humans, and this just felt like a realistic anatomical choice to make for their lifestyle and unique biology.

Also side note, I prefer the term “chest” instead of “breasts” since it’s more gender-inclusive, and I unfortunately see the latter term used more often when sexualizing it. Chest is more neutral and it isn’t as often used in sexual context, to my knowledge.

[cinnamon-bunni]

NOT okay right now im thinking abt pokemon leaving scars on their trainers + everyday, domestic problems.....

[wizmischief]

the    wizarding    trials    had    begun    [    …    ]    and    alex    had    to    follow    through,    along    with    justin    and    max.    one    of    the    tasks    was    to    hunt    down    another    supernatural    being    on    the    hierarchy,    the    stronger    the    better    according    to    terms    and    conditions    passed    down    by    power    hungry    wizards    hundreds    of    years    ago.    she’s    strolling    downtown    mystic    falls    during    night    time,    not    because    she    deemed    that    as the appropriate time    to    get    the    task    done,    but    because    she    wouldn’t    have    minded    catching    a    break    in    one    of    mystic    falls’    entertainment    places.

all    goes    according    to    plan    ;    the    streets    seemed    quiet    from    supernaturals,    the    only    noise    at    bay    coming    from    humans    enjoying    a    night    out,    which    was    exactly    what    the    middle    rashid    wanted.    a    couple    drinks    at    the    grill    were    enough    to    stray    her    from    the    original    plan,    her    original    focus,    to    meet    the    ends    of    the    wizarding    trial    and,    instead,    she    focused    on    socializing,    despite    her    state.    “    this    is    stupid,    i    don’t    get    why    we    have    to    do    this    when    we    already    know    the    ending.    ”    she    muttered    beneath    gritted    teeth,    when    suddenly    her    gaze    fell    upon    another.    oddly    familiar,    yet    she    couldn’t    pinpoint    how    that    was    possible.

“    this    —    i’m    not    crazy,    just    speaking    to    myself.    ”    the    only    person    besides    her    best    friend    harper    that    would    understand    her    was    herself.    lips    pursed    together,    realizing    how    weird    that    must    make    her    look,    fingers    curling    into    a    fist.    “    i,    uhm,    looking    for    this    place,    uh    …    ”    salvation?    salv    –    something?    a    boarding    school,    where    supposedly    supernatural    beings    were    residing    and,    if    she    were    lucky,    a    monster    was    also    lurking    in    the    shadows.    “    a    boarding    school.    do    you    know    where    that    is?    ”

a random starter based on this wanted plot for @tricursed

[woednesdayaddams]

  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️【 ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️@luposcainus 】

  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️something   ominous   was   lurking   over   hawkins   —   so   ominous   that   not   even   wednesday   could   decipher   what   it   was,   but   knew   that   nothing   good   was   going   to   happen   nonetheless.   call   it   a   feeling,   a   token   from   beyond   that   alerted   her   of   something   imminent   and   destructive.   too   long   had   she   forsaken   the   warnings,   from   residents   disappearing   and   winding   up   dead   to   the   thick   air   shrouded   the   town.   the   addamses   were   delighted,   an   apocalyptic   event   was   on   their   bucket   list   since   they   were   wednesday’s   age   and   their   daughter   did   share   this   morbid   desire.   however,   there’s   something   bigger   than   desire   that   fascinates   wednesday   addams   and   that   is,   knowing   the   culprit   and   how   it   all   unfolds.

  ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️a   damsel   wandering   the   woods   [   …   ]   who   is   she?   the   next   victim   or   the   next   threat   over   benighted   citizens   of   hawkins?   twigs   break   beneath   her   weight,   feet   dragging   on   the   rug   of   dead   leaves   —   she   didn’t   even   try   to   hide   her   presence.   unbeknownst   to   her,   her   little,   lonesome   journey   got   her   into   a   trap.   she   found   herself   on   the   other   side   of   hawkins   laboratories,   a   metal   fence   being   the   only   palpable   object   keeping   her   apart   from   discovering   something   new,   something   essential.   fingers   wrap   around   the   bars,   gaze   fixated   on   the   building.   something   about   it   called   upon   her   on   a   sensory   level   beyond   the   primal   senses.   alas,   a   sound   broke   the   trance   she   found   herself   in,   moment   in   which   she   slowly   pulls   always   from   the   gates,   peripheral   gaze   used   to   discover   the   stalking   culprit.   turning   around   on   her   toes,   she   takes   a   look   around,   a   frown   settled   upon   her   visage,      ❝   who’s   out   there?   reveal   yourself.   ❞      she   bellowed,   knowing   it   was   a   matter   of   other’s   choice   (   whoever   might   that   be   )   to   reveal   themselves   or   suffer   the   consequences   when   wednesday   finds   them   herself.

[extravalgant]

HI!!!! how did u like novus.

HI LEIGH!!!!!!

i "finished" novus a while back (i.e. watched another wiztuber stream it bc im not caught up) and overall id say i like it +_+

i can explain some more belooooow hehe

IM TRYING TO THINK BACK ON HOW PREVIOUS ARCS HANDLED THE STORY... the only consistent one we have in arc 4 is dasein and we generally swap out new companions for each world for the most part . which is usual so im not complaining about that

ITS A DASEIN HEAVY STORY FOR THE MOST PART but i liked the kind of storytelling that they were trying to do... the journey of being essentially "taught" right from wrong and how that also defined us as the wizard and ultimately how theres more responsibilities that come with being the 'savior of the spiral' in a sense. theres a lot in the way we also find out even more about the wizard through the lens of other characters (most notably dasein) without having the story state it outright. almost like the wizard is kind despite never getting a thank you 75% percent of the time, and knowing that they have responsibilities now. i think dasein tried to replicate that kind of perspective in this world and was overwhelmed as a result. kinda makes you wonder how the wizard handles it lolol

I DONT THINK THERES A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THE COLONIZATION BITS i do like that they never sort of. get "redeemed" in a sense and that we managed to royally piss them off by the end of novus and i was like. wow 3 spiral super powers hate us thats neat

THAT ENDING THOUGH.... TURNING IT AROUND IN MY HEAD MARINATING IN IT ETC. i could post the pics i drew now since i was waiting for a few more people to catch up on novus... +_+

[museguided]

[ SLIP ] Neya to Mikaela!

REASONS TO TACKLE. [ SLIP ]: sender slips on something and trips, bringing the receiver down with them in their descent.

Even with the device around his arm to protect him from the UV rays, the bright afternoon sun was still unpleasant for a vampire. Mikaela sought shelter within the cool shade of a seemingly abandoned building, knowing it would be a while before he needed to leave the area. No one would miss him if he happened to go off on his own for a few hours. Sharp eyes adjusted quickly to the change in lighting, careless steps carrying him further inside nonetheless. There hadn't been any issues since he arrived and he was confident he could handle anything that might arise

There were signs of human activity left in the mess they left behind. Empty cans, broken bottles, and flattened cardboard boxes suggested they had stayed awhile, but Mikaela couldn't discern if they would return. Or if they were still around.

He stood incredibly still, listening through the quiet for any sign of life. Faint birdsong still reached his sensitive ears, the ambiance from outside failing to cloak the sound of another's footsteps, of someone breathing. Curiosity led him to continue his exploration, as silently as a stalking predator. He heard a commotion, something falling or collapsing, but he didn't expect to run into someone hidden in the noise of it all, colliding hard enough to send them both sprawling to the ground.

His head collided hard with the ground, making him grit his teeth as he shifted under the weight on top of him. Moving to support himself with elbows pressed against the ground, his blue eyes met her crimson gaze—so similar to a full-fledged vampire's, yet the warmth found in them was unmistakably human.

"—Off!" Mikaela was quick to push her away, just in case her fall had been a clumsy assassination attempt. His astonishment shifted to suspicion as he got to his feet. The dust had settled, allowing his attention to remain on her; from her attire, he could assume she wasn't part of JIDA, but he couldn't let his guard fall just yet.

"Speak, human. What happened here?"

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.

Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3

[lustlovehart]

Monster!Twst is so good

I haven’t seen the entire lore but… I’d love to cuddle with slime Azul, I’d be more interested in studying them than killing them..

Since requests are open, how would the monster boys react to you trying to study them? Like by observing their bodies and behavior, and being sweet to them.

A/n: Just like the monsters list, characters who haven’t had their species revealed yet, will stay vague to avoid spoilers! and Fellow and Skully are here too— There’s also a new rule for requests! Anything above 5 characters will be in headcanon format rather than full fics! This also, ended up being way longer than it needed to be…

Pairing: [Monster!Twst] x Reader ft, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Jack, Ruggie, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Epel, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Sebek, Silver, Lilia, Rollo, Neige, Fellow, Skully

Warnings: Flirting (That Reader reciprocates w/o knowing), Obssesion, Posseive Traits, Reader is in their personal space, Indirect Kissing, Some are suggestive, mentions of their crimes, a lot of spelling errors, some are cheesy, Mentions of marking

Honestly, It really depends on when you try studying them. If you attempt this on your first meeting rather than later down the line, they’ll assume you’re like every other Monster Hunter who’s come after them. Out of the thousands, at least 500 of them must’ve tried studying their behaviors. Their attempts fail, as all of them don’t take very keenly to being used as guinea pigs to find more out about their species. Anyone who’s tried advancing their understanding, have disapeared without a trace.

However, If you’re you, and do this later in the line after your respective first meeting, it really depends on the monsters them self.

Those who like it/Help you

- Riddle, is actually very keen on helping you pursue your knowledge in the vast world of monsters (Only you though, anyone else ended up becoming a monster themself, or dead.) You should be more educated in this field, and truthfully, Riddle might as well be the reason why you know must of these beasts weaknesses. Though, you do find it a bit interesting he leaves details on ghosts vague. Unbeknownst to you, if anyone else was around, they would no doubt tell you he was doing it to knock out the rest of his competition much easier.

He grows a really bright red when your face is practically inches away from his unattainable physical form, which just makes it more embarrassing for him. For heavens sake, he doesn't even have an actual body for you to come close to, yet his knuckles tremble when your face is practically placed in the crook of his as your fingers ghost over his stitches. You can only feel the cold his figure provides, yet it doesn’t stop him from feeling all the warmth you exude in your fingertips alone.

“You’re very pretty when you glow Riddle.” He’s sure he would’ve died a second death at this moment if it was possible. He shoos away the thought when he sees the pure smile you grace him with. He inhales a deep breath, allowing himself to pretend to hold your hand in his, leaning his upper half forward.

“And… You don’t need to glow to be…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, quickly closing his mouth again when you’re the one who leans closer into him. “Pretty.” He doesn’t even realize the words leave his mouth, his posture straightening immediately.

Your hand leaves his own at his words, the apparition looking up in confusion at your hesitance. “That reminds me of someone…”

… That wretched monster hunter you’ve taken to calling your “one and only”.

You won’t ever notice it, but his hollow hands grip themselves so hard, he digs his nails into his palm. Something that shouldn’t be possible. It seems you cause a rage so deep, Riddles capable of transcending the rules of the after life.

- “Deuce… Please stop moving. It’s hard to do any examining while you’re squirming...” Can you blame him?! It’s really hard to stay calm while you’re practically chest to chest to him!! He can feel the warmth from your still beating heart through your skin transfer to his hollow cavity. If he thinks hard enough, he can imagine the two of you becoming one with each other, falling so deeply in love your hearts combine… Just like his mother told him. (All the more reason for you to not leave!) He understands he agreed to give his body for “education”, but it still doesn’t stop that rapid succession of panic that sets through him. If he still had running blood, he’s sure he’d be just as bright as Riddle…

His thought are further seized when he can feel your fingers intertwine around his, hushed whispers of what’s and unattainable stuttering filling the air. “You can still feel perfectly fine right? Or is it phantom pain…?”

“I… I can still feel you…— It…! I can still feel it…” He’s extremely flustered the whole time you conduct your research on him. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous… But to him, it must be so obvious why he’s freaking out…!

You encase his face in your hands, waiting for his sole eye to connect with yours. He finally stills, the hue of your pupils a comforting color in his eyes, his posture naturally relaxing.

“Calm down Deuce, I’ve barely even done anything!” You… Haven’t…?! But that felt like so much in just a minute. You release him from your grasp, slowly reaching towards the empty cavity in his chest.

His heart is exposed, just like how expressive he is with his emotions. The moment you reach out, he catches your wrist, a bone cracking grasp halting your movements.

“There’s a human here.” Those words don’t need any piecing together, but you don’t even have the chance to stop him before he leaves, a hunger in his movements. It’s… shocking how quick his countenance can go from flustering to… scary.

- Floyd run #1. The moment you mention even the slightest interest in him (his species, not him specifically, but his ears automatically drown that out.), he’s grabbing your ankle and pulling you into the water with him. His slimy tail tightly wraps around you while the sharp bone sticking out acts like armor for your bottom half. Or perhaps a cage. Works as both honestly.

Either way, your dragged to a remote beach, finally unraveled from Floyds limb, only to be pinned underneath his clawed hands on the hot sand.

“What does shrimpy wanna know then “huh~? I’ll let yah feel me up all yah want...“ You don’t know how he makes that one eye he has so intimidating, but he does, a little too well. You can’t really reply before Floyd roughly grasps your wrist, pulling your limb close to his chest and dragging your palm so you feel that cold wet skin of his. Despite how enthusiastic he is with make you touch every part of him, there’s a softness to his rough grasp. Hard enough to have you know every part of him, but soft enough to never truly hurt you. “Shrimpy should let me feel em’ up too.”

You pause, looking up at him from your spot in the sand, a goofy smile paiting his lips, as if he doesn’t eat sailors on a daily basis. That boyish grin is wiped off when he feels you place his clawed, webbed fingers on your chest.

“You’re bein’ real nice. I’ll let yah get a stab at me yeah? After that though you gotta let me eat those two Mackrel and Crabby zombies that follow you around everywhere okay~?“ he leans down from his once propped up position, his palm still laid on your beating heart as he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with a fondness undeserving on a monster.

“Absouloutely not.“

“Aww, and I thought you liked me more than those two...“ he sounds upset at the loss of a meal, but the way his tail wraps around your legs tell you he feels the exact opposite.

- Jade run #2. He’s just as, if not even more so, enthusiastic at the prospect of you researching me just like Floyd. The way he goes about it however is entirely different. While Floyd will look at you with the fondest of smiles as he practically offers himself up as sacrifice for you, Jade weirdly enough, makes you feel like you’re the one working for this research.

“You wish to know more about serpents? Then, come i’ll allow you to run those humane hands all over. Please be gentle with me.” You think you’re being gentle, slowly reaching your hands out to feel his cool skin, only for him to duck out last moment. You try again and you’re palm is met with only air, a gentleman’s smile plastered on his face.

“Oh? What’s wrong? Do you perhaps not wish to touch me? My my… and I thought you were kind.” The forced sniffles and non-existent tears he wipes from his eye serve as a reminder to who Jade is. His eye widens when he feels soft hands grip his shoulders pinning him to hot gold sand. “It seems, Floyd wasn’t lying when he said you’re fun.” his hand finds itself around your wrist, a gentle cold hold grasps itself on your skin, a shiver going down your spine at the contact. “Will you dissect me? Or perhaps you’ll eat me. If it’s the later, I do hope i’m suitable to your tastes.” at the mention of food he lifts your limb to his mouth, allowing sharp fangs to trace them self over your palm.

“You’re being weird Jade.”

“Is asking to conduct research on a living being not weird as well?” the pressure from his canines increase, at this point you won’t be surprised if blood peeks out. “Humans have an interesting tradition if not.” his words make him pause before releasing his hold on your wrist, his hand quickly flying to your neck to pull you down. “I wonder, have you researched other humans like this too?”

There’s a certain malice in his eyes, only visible if you focus extremely hard.

“No…? Why would I find other humans interesting? I’d rather be here than studying things I already know…”

He’s silent for a moment, which is almost always never a good thing. But the way he smiles with soft slitted eyes at your answer tells you he must be satisfied.

- Kalim is so happy telling you about him! If you think about it, it’s like you’re a couple talking about your day! (It’s really not considering he’s describing all the heinous wishes people have asked him to grant.)

The moment he opens his mouth to describe everything he knows about Genies, he pauses before sagging down into you.

He actually… Doesn’t know very much… Jamil is the one who always keeps record of this stuff, so he doesn’t know very much about himself. But…! He can’t just let Jamil tell you all about him! He’s not trying to be mean but, he wants to be the one who teaches you, not Jamil!

He’s quick to perk up at the first thought that comes to mind. He’ll get you to talk about yourself first! So while you’re telling him about yourself, he can think about Genie facts.

“Do Genies—”

“What’s your favorite food?!” This plan backfires when he completely forgets the “Genie facts” part and is too absorbed in knowing you better. By the time you’re finished and finally resume this interview of yours, he’s quick to remember his lack of answer.

He’ll laugh it off with ease though, just telling you if you wish for it, he’ll grant it. (Please wish for it so then he can answer you…!)

“I’m… good…” He’ll repeatedly ask you if you’re sure, if you don’t want him to grant all your wishes. (He has broken the 3 wish limit multiple times for you. You’re not sure how he does it, but he does.)

“Y’know what, I’ll try asking Jamil okay?” You’re under the impression Kalim will agree to this idea. You’re quickly proven wring when Kalim blocks your path and insists he’ll remember something! Just… Don’t rely on Jamil this time, Kalim wants to be the one you depend on for once.

- Sometimes you have the sneaking suspicion Rook is studying you instead of the other way around... Touches that start out as expermientations turn into lingering grazes from Rook, who can’t seem to let go of your hand. It’s even worse if you’re in a dimly lit area, with the shadows that surround you two practically suffocating. You’re assured that this darkness is Rook’s overwhelming... Affection... At play.

“Amour, it’s okay! Allow me to show you all of me.” His shadowed fingers gently intertwined with your own, his eyes glowing a bright green in the dark of night, quickly shitting them when he begins his monologue “Truly…! To be bare in front of each other is the truest form of beauty…” you get that Rooks certainly eccentric, but you didn’t expect him to be this ecstatic.

Through the window, the light of the moon slightly peaks through the glass, cutting the shade that adorns your body and illuminating your features in a pretty white. “To be a beast you wish to know so intimately… Maqnifique…!—“ he finally opens those glowing eyes of his to gaze at your sitting form, finally noticing the pretty shine the moon gives you.

For once, Rook isn’t talking about beauty. He’s only staring at you in silence, his eyes wide with a hunger. It’s like… he’s gluttonous with the visage of you, greedily consuming the sight into his memory. He finally breaks out of his stupor when he leans down, touching his forehead to your own with a gentleness unbecoming for the shadow monster. You’re left to stare deep into his olive pupils, letting his fingers brush against your cheek.

“My, have you noticed how dirty you are trickster?” When he finishes wiping the soil from your face, he remains still, not moving his forehead away from yours in the slightest.

“Well, I ran through the forest so…”

“Even with grime on you, there’s a beauty held in that sight.” You’re too absorbed in his eyes, in his words, to notice the way tendrils of shadows curl around your waist, a gentle hold gripping you. “I’m sure whatever filth covers you, i’ll never be able to take my eyes off you, never.”

You believe his sweet words, those whispers of adoration serving as a confidence booster for yourself.

But… You can’t help but worry about him always watching you.

- Malleus tilts his head at you. He... Doesn’t get it. Is this a humans courting ritual? Why are you insistent on practically sitting over him for “research“. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t like it, if anything he’ll be a bit too forward with his enjoyment at this development of you on him, yet he still doesn’t know why you need too.

Even though he doesn’t really get it, he’ll still gladly lend you his entirety for you to satiate your curiosity. In return, he’d like to examine you too. Waking up to cold stone leaning over you is certainly a scary sight, glowing moss staring down into your soul as Malleus moves even closer to your once slumbering form.

“Malleus? What are you doing…?”

“You called it research.” You look up at him, a sigh leaving your throat before sitting up, tired eyes piercing through that stone exterior. Your bed creaks at the shift in weight, more drastically than usual considering a being of pure stone, who’s also very tall, is perched on your mattress.

“So, you wanna research me?” He blinks a few times before admitting that he does. He wants to know how intimate this is, surely this studying doesn’t call for the proximity you always commit when studying him, or even the watchful eye you have whenever he’s going about his day. Malleus isn’t a fool, far from it, he’s not naive. He understands the general consensus with finding knowledge, he’s just unsure if the way you do it, is more personal.

In truth, he wants to know if you research the other monsters who are utterly enchanted by you, the same way. If that’s the case… He’s not quite sure if anyone, including you, will be capable of quenching the rage that will sure from his castle. He’s sure the entire world will suffer the wrath he’ll release.

These thoughts disperse when your fingers trace the patterns on his horns with a tenderness he’s not familiar with. All the more reason to be addicted to your touch. He leans into your warmth on instinct, closing his eyes as the stone of his body visibly relaxes despite its solidity. You pause when Malleus opens his eyes again, a firmness in his voice that’s entirely different from the softness he just displayed.

“Do you touch the others like this too?”

“Uhm… I kinda have to if I wanna know more about them—“ A boom of lightning cracks the window to your side, glass shattering all over the space. Your skin is only narrowly avoided due to Malleus’s swift shielding of your body, your skin feeling cold hard stone.

“I see.”

- Lilia practically jumps on you instead of vice versa, letting you examine each part of him up close and personal. Occasionally he’ll chuckle and ask you if you’re enjoying this lesson in anatomy. If you tilt your head at him in confusion, he’ll smile before scooping you into his arms with his incredibly small stature that’s unfit to carry such a load, and jump out a window. For what you reason you don’t know but when you finish screaming he’ll tell you all about the differnt times he’s horrified people to feed off them.

Don’t ask what kind of feed he means though, whether it’s vitality or literal, you won’t ask questions.

Or, if you tell him you are enjoying such a lecture, you commit an act many hunters have attempted to pull on him but failed. You make Lilia stop in his tracks. He’s quick to recover though, asking you if you’d like to go further in your studies, a fiendish smile on his lips as he leans in a hairs width away from you.

You’re quick to walk away and ponder what he meant by further. Like, eating people? Or maybe showing you his other capabilities.

Or... Something else...?

- Skully is so enthusiatic when you bring up any hint towards studying him. For a moment, he malfunctions, blinking his eight bright orange eyes in your direction before scooping you up and placing kisses all over you, be it on your hand or on your face. In some instances, he’s only an inch away from truly kissing you on your lips. He caims he wants to save that for a speacial occasion later. What that is, you don’t wanna know.

He’ll quickly place your hands on different parts of his body, a fang filled smile gushing about his different qualities. See this? That’s how he sticks to walls! And this!? That’s how he climbs when he doesn’t feel like using his human legs! Oh oh! This is how he eats!!!

Sometimes he even has you examine parts of him that you share in common. The way he shows you though is different, more tender in a sense. He’ll delicately grab your hand and reach it towards his chest, shedding articles of cover to let your palm touch skin to skin to his beating heart.

“That’s how I live.“ you already knew that, you have one too- “With you though, I don’t need it as much.“ you’re starting to question where it is exactly this spider gets all his confidence... Little do you know when you leave he wraps himself in a cacoon while freaking out about how he just said that to you.

Unlike the others on this list though, he won’t provide you information on any other species. You’re nothing like them, not at all…. So why would you ever want to know more about them? Before you know it, thick webs trap your surroundings, Skully’s honey hands grasping your own as boney skeleton legs cage you in between him and a tree trunk.

You just need to know about him… It’s okay, you’re nothing like those other humans… You actually like him! So…

Let him love you.

- Fellow is an interesting case… He toes the line between wanting to help you and being neutral. He serandes you with promises of knowledge, in turn you must accompany him on his stage. Yet, the moment you agree to join him, he’ll quickly dress you in lace fit for a doll, forgetting his promise and only twirling you around like the star he claims you to be.

“Fellow I thought you said—” you can’t finish your thought before he hurriedly spins you, your body dropping into his arms as his hand strengthens its grip on your waist.

“Yes yes, I remember my promise don’t worry! I could never lie to a sparkling hunter like you.” it’s unclear if the sparkling is referring to your personality or the pretty clothes he's dressed you in. But… It’s obvious he has no intention of letting you go so soon. With a newfound determination in your mind, he continues prancing around with you inside the circle of his theater, your hand flying to his chest, your first question of research ready to be answered.

Is this marionette hollow? Or does he have a heart?

“My my,” you squeak when he spins you away, your hand off him just as soon as it was on him. His style of dancing is very different from the way everyone else waltzes with you. It’s fast paced yet still holds a regal of elegance. “You’re touchy today. I’m afraid our agreement will be fulfilled when we’re done dear hunter! Don’t fret, I only tell the truth.” He definitely doesn’t, but you don’t retort, You’re still set on fulfilling your goal, allowing him to twirl and speak to you with a countenance of a showman, rather than the puppet one plays with. The soft sound of a music box echoing through the walls is unsettling, yet calming at the same time, it’s a weird affect.

“So tell me, who was that human talking to you?” … human? What is he…? Your mind clicks together the pieces in a flash.

“He was just trying to buy me a drink is all.” he smiles, but the cracks in his mouth distract you from his true demeanor. That of bitterness.

“Is that so? It’s fortunate I stole you away from him then! I hear such drinks are harmful to your kind. Unless, you wanted him to indulge you.” the music box slowly nears its end, the final note having Fellow slowly dip you down with a delicacy entirely separate from the rest of the dance.

“I mean, a drink would’ve been…” your words grow softer at the sight of a dark silhouette hanging from the ceiling, the clear strings swaying him side from side. He’s been propped up in a way akin to a chandelier, but rather than beauty, it’s filled with a grotesquely brutal decorum “Fellow… what did you…” You’re practically swung up into solid arms, Fellow effortlessly carrying you across the stage. Your questions fall on synthetic ears as he carries you behind the curtain, placing you down on his fancy velvet couch.

“You’ve visited my refuge, it’s only right now I live to my promise and let you know me down to my true core.” he bows down with the confidence of a director. But...

You’re not so sure you want to know anything about this marionette anymore…

Those who are Neutral/Don’t help you but don’t stop you either

- “Why would you wanna learn about us? What, you wanna marry a zombie— Ow…! Okay it doesn’t hurt but ow!” Ace is insufferable with his teasing. Even if you showcase your desire to learn about them as entirely work related, he continues to say you just have a thing for monsters. It’s not as if he seizes you from studying him, he lets your eyes wander and even your hands, but that persona of his never fails to kick in…

“You’re practically kissing me at this point, might as well do it—” if you put your index over his mouth to shush him, and then let your thumb trace over his bottom lip… the remark he initially held is stuck in his throat as he watches you with bated breath, waiting. Waiting for what? He doesn’t even know. But, he’s for sure waiting for you to do something. The only action he takes is his eyes shifting over every part of your closed up face, as if he’s attempting to engrave each detail into a non-existent brain.

“You have a pretty face, Ace. To bad you don’t have a brain…” The next day, he’s a lot more docile than previously, even staying extremely still when you go over examinations. Doesn’t even tease you when you watch him limply walk. “You’re a lot quieter than yesterday.”

“Someone said I had a pretty face. I’m just showing it off like they asked,” he pauses before slightly rotating his body to face you but still stay positioned forward, “I give you my pretty face, and you let me watch yours.” Now it’s your turn to wait in embarrassment.

He goes back to the hospital and kicks his legs while burying his head in an old detoriated pillow

- Trey isn’t going out of his way to help you at all, but he’ll smile that kind yet put together (secretly conniving) smile while he leans back an allows you to trace your hands all around his limbs. He won’t tell anyone, but he feels a sense of pride swell inside of him when you gawk over how built he is. They have to rely on him for all the heavy lifting, considering he’s essentially a giant and the only one who can carry anything. ( half of the group phases through everything and the other half have limbs constantly falling off of them.)

“You can still build muscle? Huh… that’s interesting…” Trey’s really happy he locked the door, it’d certainly be an uproar if anyone saw you squeezing the muscle on his bicep. He just hopes Riddle and Cater decide to knock before phasing through the door…

Though, he can’t deny the secret desire of someone seeing you two so close and private. He was human(?) at some point too. The tradition of public affection still lingers in his newfound boy, it makes sense he’d want someone to see you two.

Your hand barely brushes against sewed skin before he flinches, your head quickly turning up to question him before jumping back at the feeling of his hand pulling you in. Your body is pushed against his, before the pressure of his arms gradually releases a gentle expression on his face.

“Sorry, there was a bug.” was there really…? You have a sneaking suspicion not to believe him, but out of the five monsters that live in Heartslaybul he’s essentially the only collected mind to trust. You don’t inquire any further, only continuing to attach and reattach his body while experimentally shocking him occasionally.

Unknown to you, but entirely acknowledged by Trey, a flustered, open-mouthed Deuce stands outside the window at such a display of intamicy. Trey hopes you don’t leave anytime soon, who else will fawn over him with such intensity? When his hands tighten around your own, you assume it to be a reflex. It’s not.

- Before you even have to the chance to close in on Leona, he’s already catching your wrist and pulling your face to his, mere inches spacing between you and the mummy. The glare he gives you is practically death inducing, your youthfulness being sapped from your skin the longer you lean into him. You’re sucked out of your trance when the feeling of a pair of fingers presses into your lips, a feint taste of… pomegranate? Invading your taste buds. The flavor reminds you of death.

“Huh, it worked.” you only quirk your eyebrow up at him, his head leaning back as guttural laugh sounds through the dusty air. “You were wondering what mummies taste like right?” No way… He did it?! You only joked about a kiss being a good way of testing that theory! You don’t have the chance to retort when the feeling of rough bandages slowly curl their way around your limb, pulling you even closer than you already were. “Well? Are you gonna investigate further or is that all the info you need for a mummy?”

He must underestimate your curiosity, as even he’s taken aback when your hand pushes him further into his throne, your eyes scrutinizing each detail on his body as your legs are propped up on each side of him. Truth be told, you’re a little scared Ruggies gonna walk in and see the scene in front of him, but you push all worries aside when the prospect of research rears its head.

“You’re right. I think the king should allow me to see his importance up close.” You don’t notice it, and you never will from the numerous wraps that preserve his body. But, the single organ that was left inside him, skips a beat at your words. He’s important to you, even if it’s just for research. You’re blinded with interest at examining him, the effect your words have on him completely go over your head, so much so you don’t even notice the way his hands grip tightly onto your waist, each ribbon of cloth increasing their grasp too.

It’s a definite fact, this monster hunter will never leave his palace. Not because you’re dead, but simply because he must keep you here. He’ll make sure you’ll want to stay.

After this occurrence, it’s a rinse and repeat where Leona lets you do your thing before embarrassing you and then pretending nothing happened the next day.

- Ruggie tells you he’ll strap himelf to an examination table and let your hands run wild if you offer him something in return. You never accept, only consider. If you were to give him something… what would you give him…? Next time you meet him and ask, he laughs at you, “i can’t believe you actually believed that…!” You were on the verge of striking him with your fist, yet you don’t. He’s wiping tears from his eyes before gazing at your hand, a cloth sack dangling from your grasp. He grins at the sight, taking a step forward.

“I would’ve done it for free. Really rare deal, just for you shishi~”

“Well don’t, because that would mean I got this for nothing…” you lift the bag up to his face, the werehyena quirking his eyebrow before clawed hands swiftly grab the sack, opening the contents on the floor.

It’s food.

He stares wordlessly at the meal below him, only looking up at you after a few moments. You’re ready to watch him scarf down each individual dish like it’s breathing but he doesn’t. His hands slowly lift up, splitting the food in the middle, patting the spot next to him with a sharp teethed smile.

Silently, you sit next to him, watching him diligently consume the food. Except…

With each bite, you notice the pieces of red in-between his canines, and… two newly found wedding rings on his index.

Did he… already eat before this…? And if he did, you have a sneaking suspicion you know his victims…

Your thoughts are dispersed when then feeling of scarlet fruit is placed on your lips, an expecting Ruggie hinting you to eat.

You… don’t feel like eating anything red right now…

- Vil is already used to having humans gawk at him, whether from lust, a twisted version of lust they believe to be love, or pure rage. So, he just assumes his charm has already started to worm it’s filthy way into your heart when you stare at him and examine his skin more often. A shame really, you’re like the rest of his food now… But, he could use it to his favor, maybe he should just bed you already and hope you fall in love with him like the rest of them—

“Vil, do incubus eat things that aren’t just… bed stuff…?” He should laugh really, at the way you describe his way of feeding to be bed stuff. “I wanna know.” Now he’s letting it out. Truly, it’s adorable how different your countenance is compared to when you’re attempting to slay him.

“If I said no? What if I told you i’m positively starving right now? Would you let me feed off you?” before you know it, he’s towering above where you’re sat, his fingers caging you’re chin to make you look up at him, gentle flaps of his wings cooling your gradually heating exterior. His tail slowly crawling it’s way up your torso. He’s honestly expecting you to back out, either cowering in embarrassment, or even cursing him with a thousand Die in hell! Who knew you could be so bold outside of your job too… Just the thing that made him interested in you as a living being rather than sustenance.

Your fingers snake around his own, carefully placating them to lay on your thigh, causing the all famed incubus, Vil Schoenheit, who's sucked thousands dry of their vitality, kneel on his knee in front of you, diligently awaiting your next words. His slit eyes don’t even blink, the only sign of wavering patience being the tail he has continuously trace patterns into your collar.

“If doing that helps me see behind the act of an Incubus, I might as well offer myself as your dinner.” Bold, how very bold. Vil should find you a job in acting in the underworld, he’s sure you would do splendidly. Though, the more he thinks about it, he’d prefer that confidence of yours to only be for his eyes and not the entirety of hell.

The next day, he sits still in his chair as you let your fingers trace over him in the name of investigation! He doesn’t help you, making you do all the work to uncover the truth about his species, but, he won’t ever stop you either. Just like how he won’t ever stop or help you when you attempt to leave his dear manor.

- Epel has a really big desire to show off, bragging about his capabilities despite only being a vampire for a short time. But, he also wants to be cool for you. What’s the point in bragging about his talents when he comes off as desperate? That’s no good, he needs to come off as cool and powerful…! He doesn’t wanna make the comparison, but it’s the only thing he can think of.

He wants to act like Vil. He doesn’t wanna be him but… You always seem to be around him whenever possible, and when he’s not available you’re with Rook…! He really just can’t win can he…

So, he hides his secret desire, acting with nonchalance when you finally ask the question of investigating him.

For once though, he does feel victorious when your fingers prance around his fingers, thoroughly feeling the edge with a wonder. When you tell him about Jamils similarity though, he’s back to feeling defeated… So he isn’t unique in your eyes?

After your initial studying session, he’s left wandering the night for his next meal, a deep rooted disappointment flooding (still) veins. At this point, he’ll pounce on whatever moves first. So, he does, the sound of rustling leaves making him take a single step with pure speed, pinning the human to a tree trunk, readying his fangs to dive into their neck.

But there’s a smell. A smell so familiar, so sweet. So… You.

“Epel…?” He looks up at you with eyes blown so wide they could pop out. His grip on you is practically trembling with hunger, he needs food now. Despite his obvious starvation, he slowly leans away from your jugular, ready to escape. He’s only stopped at the feeling of your hand placing itself behind his head, pulling him back into your side. He looks up with an expression of worry, attempting to silently word an “are you sure?”, your reply being a small nod.

His fangs peak out before diving in, his former meek attitude disappearing as he greedily consumes you.

If this is how he feeds… Then you’re happy your plan worked. If it had been anyone else, he surely would’ve killed them, draining them completely dry.

You wave your free hand, quietly shooing away the innocent civilian from the scene.

- Silver is actually entirely willing to let you experiment your whims on him. If it makes you happy, why wouldn’t he want to? Whenever you’re happy he’s happy too. It’s just… He’s asleep to frequently to actually tell you he’s okay with it.

“Silver! Silver…? Oh, you’re asleep again…” you lay down on the grass, meeting him face to face on the floor. You don’t realize it, but before you know it your bodies only a few inches away from his, practically nudged to his. If Sebek saw, you’re sure he would call you two heinous for allowing human and monster interrelationships...

You can’t help when your hand instinctively reaches up, brushing ivory hair away from his face while your fingers trace down the colored glittering skin on the edges of his face. Whenever he’s awake, he always tells you he’s okay to submit his body to you, yet whenever you try he’s always slumbering.

A shiver goes down your spine before your eyes grow heavy. Seems you actually did discover something new about him, touching that hued skin of his grows weariness. You don’t have any time to celebrate your founding before you pass out next to him, soft snores leaving you as your arm is draped over his neck, practically sleeping with him like a couple.

When you come to, you feel the soft skin of a shoulder on your cheek, looking up at the rarest event possible.

You and Silver being awake at the same time.

“Allow me, to be your experiment.”

“I feel like I should be asking you that instead Silver…”

Those who hate it (but are secretly neutral/like it)

- Cater is even sure what he is. He understands he’s a ghost, but there’s something else to it. So, don’t gaze at such a horrifying face with all that curiosity, a curiosity he’s never held for himself despite not knowing his own species either. For a moment, his face scrunches at the request before returning to his usually facade.

“Hah…! You should be careful! What if I said yes and ate you whole! Cay-Cay’s gonna say no, kay?” and he leaves it at that.

He’s the same makeup as Riddle, so… What does it matter? You don’t need him to look into. Besides, it might be for the best. Nobody especially you, should ever gaze at him in his entirety.

If you did… Would you think he was boring? Would you think he wasn’t happy?

Is he happy?

He’s been dead for so long, dying in the same time frame with Riddle and Trey. Yet, he still can’t get over the grief he feels at this. He lost the entirety of his life from that… that…!

He jumps back at the sight of your hand on his face. His face… If you knew you’d hate him. You can’t feel his face, and he can only narrowly feel your palm, but you can see him visibly melt into your “touch”.

He’s not sure what he looked like to you, but the furrow in your brows tell him part of those thoughts came to light. Or maybe you miracoulousyly found out the truth about his face.

He takes a breath, before floating to your side. “Didn’t know you were so determined to look into me! Maybe this is your way of flirting.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that…!” your fluster makes him laugh, resting his arm over your shoulder.

So you don’t know about his face. Good.

- Jack has known you for so long, so… He doesn’t want you to see the version of himself he’s hid from you all this time, that would completely ruin all the time he spent curating his human persona. Plus, would you even allow him to protect you anymore if you truly knew him…?

If you know more about what he is, it wouldn’t be the best thing, but not the worst. The worst would be you refusing him and his safeguard from fear of his true strength. What would be the point of everything he did if you just ended up getting hurt? He knows you’re not entirely weak. If you were, there’s no way you would be in the profession you are.

But you’re still human. You’re still the same human who he’s seen with bruises and cuts all over. You’re the same human who's broken bones before just for a job.

You’re the same human who would smile at him despite all these injuries, laughing at him and Rollo for their worries.

“Jack, please, let me know you.”

He stares at you, the same rock hard expression planted on his face.

“… Okay.”

- No…! Don’t look at him so intently…! With all that… adoration…? You’ve yet to tell Azul just how pretty you think he is, especially at night when certain lights reflect off him in such a pretty way. It’s like stars are shining inside of him. Is he a vicious monster whos lead thousands of sailors to their death in his stomach? Yes. Does that stop him from being a curiosity you must satiate? No, unfortunately.

He’s always taken to the form of a Human when possible, so it’s rare to see him in his truest form. Since he can’t eat while he’s a human, the best bet you have of truly studying him is when it’s time for him to eat. He’ll be caught by surprise when there’s a wall of rocks blocking his exit to the sea, emerging from the water in confusion before doubling back in shock when he can feel your hands grasp the gross slimy texture of his body.

“Wait…! Don’t I’m…!” he’s on the verge of saying pathetic before a shell he gifted you is placed on his mouth.

“Pretty.” you whisper with a certain tenderness. In his panic, he fails to see the different bioluminescent coral that glow through his body, only narrowly being blocked by his three hearts. He’s erratic, you shouldn't see him… He’s not in the picture-esque form he’s decided to wed you in! (When he made that choice, no one knows.) Yet, the way you admiringly lead him back to the ledge of the pool as you trace over his body makes him slowly calm down.

It’s… nice. It’s nice how enamored you are with him, he feels wanted. Not like those filthy sea parasites who sail their wooden boats and attempt to pierce him with spears and arrows. He’s on the verge of even sleeping in your arms from the sheer comfort before the dulls sensation of lips are softly pecked where his hearts are located. The action makes him quickly perk up from the attempted slumber.

“Sorry, I was curious on if you would change colors if I did that… But, well you did!” You’re… not wrong. He can see the way his color shifts from purple to pink. Luckily, you seem to enamored by his current camouflage malfunction to notice the way all three of his hearts beat quickly and in rapid succession. “See? you’re handsome Azul.” The way you smile at him, your hair soaked while your clothes are heavy with water, is just too much… His placates his viscous hand on your hand, strings of slime dripping from your head as he slowly hugs you towards his body, the armor shield her wear the only thing stopping you from essentially becoming one with him.

While he allows his arms to swallow you, the only thoughts that seem to run in his head are, about how much he can’t bear to let you go, if you leave this cove he’ll surely be gulped whole in despair, so, he won’t allow it.

- Jamil is his typical self when you ask him, not saying any words or even hissing any sounds, just a look that communicates “Why would you even wanna do that?“. But it’s bone chilling enough for you to semi-give up on inquiring any further. You don’t ask, and you don’t secretly research him, but, you do spend a fair amount of effort showing him your interest.

He won’t admit it, but he actually wanted to say yes at your first request. Why wouldn’t he want you to fawn over him? Having you spend time with him, having you research him in close proximity, having you actually care about his existence. But he still has a sense of pride, he’s not gonna so easily admit he’d like to be treated…

“Jamil, I was thinking, Kalim would be up for me to ask him questions right? He seems like he would.”

…

Jamils bottom half slithers to your side, effortlessly picking you up and hoisting you over his shoulder. You don’t have the chance to ask him what he’s doing before you feel your behind gently sat on a table. Jamil leans down, his hair acting like a makeshift curtain while he looks at you.

“What do you wanna know first?” His forked tongue peaks out between his fangs, slit eyes looking down at you with expectancy.

“You want me to…?”

“I do.” The way he quickly replied gives you your confirmation, your hands flying up grasp his face in your palms, feeling the scales on his skin with urgency. The pretty color immediately attracts you, your finger moving across to drag your skin over it. Except, you accidentally make contact with the sharp poisonous fangs placed in his mouth, your attention immediately caught.

He doesn’t need a sign to know what you want, gaping his lips open for you to see. Your eyes are practically star shaped with all your attention on him, it feels great. He inhales, patiently allowing you to do whatever you wish.

His gaze trails down at your arm. Maybe it’s time to renew the mark underneath that sleeve. Except this time, you’ll know he left it.

- Idia doesn’t have much to offer (Or so he thinks). He’s basically just a person…! Who guides souls to the afterlife but that’s all…! Yet, the way you so eagerly watch him swing his scythe makes him secretly wish he did have more to show you. If he was more interesting surely you wouldn’t become bored with him. It’s not fair really, why did all those other beasts get cool appearances and abilities… Their personalities aren’t all that great… They all just have looks…! And like, crazy powers… and confidence.

“Idia…? Why are you curled into a ball?” You carefully tuck a strand of his flamed hair behind his ear, trying to get a clear view of his face. Your try is disturbed when Idia shakes his head and allows his hair to fall into place, not daring to move his head from your body. Everyone else can have their cool personas, this… this is all his.

“Can you… hunt all of them down faster…” his words are barely audible, a low whisper that’s drowned out with silence. He avoids all eye contact with you, only allowing his head on your thighs to be your sole connection.

“You… want more people to guide?”

… Yeah never mind. He quickly shuts that thought down. The idea of being stuck with all of those heinous extroverts and having to lead them to their after life… It sounds absolutely horrible. He can see it now, all their dismissive looks when they realize it’s him who’s showing them the way, he’s sure they would scoff at him.

Then he finally remembers something. He can simply… Leave them to wonder purgatory, for eternity.

He’s done it before. Whenever a mortal got on his nerves, he leaves them stranded and left on their own, only their consciousness as their only friend. Time flows differently for such people, so when he comes back, they’re trembling from insanity. Years of isolation, especially after just dying, makes anyone break. It’s perfect.

“Yeah, I… I do want more people to guide.” He sits up, looking you straight in the eyes with a confidence you’ve never seen on him. “And… You can study me… As much as you want.”

- “Human! I will not be subjected to your inhumane tactics of investigation!” It’s ironic coming from Sebek, considering there are several bones and bodies beneath his swamp that were surely not killed humanely by his hand.

You put your hand up, not even attempting to touch him, just calming him down, and he swats it away with a speed that’s completely unnecessary. “I must maintain a peak if I am to remain my lieges retainer!”

“Than wouldn’t it make sense to check you? To see if you’re in fit shape to serve him.” he squints his eyes at you, visibly mulling over the question. On one hand, it’s improper to engage an intimacy so close to a weak human, on the other… There’s a part of him that has the desire to spend a little time with you. After all, you spend a lot of your time with the others, as they can be on land with you as much as they want, which is utterly scandalous…

But, he can only spend a few hours with you before having to return to his marsh.

He’s silent, straight lipped as he looks down at you.

“… No.” you hunch over, completely expecting him to decline, you didn’t think he’d give you such a serious face. For a moment, you actually thought he was gonna accept…! “Being so close to a mortal in that vicinity is practically treason.”

You get it… Why is he still hammering the point in?

He leans down, an all too tall frame casting a shadow over you. Yet his pupils do anything to not look you in the eye at the proximity, even though it was him who enacted the space. “… I don’t need your time.” the way he says it makes you think he’s talking to himself rather than you. Is he? You serve him a smile. He might not be looking at you, but you’re sure it at least reaches his peripherals.

“Okay, Then I won’t use it on you.” That came off stronger than intended, but you don’t try to save your words, only walking away with a wave.

The next day Sebek says he hurt his shoulder and must get it tended to…. What do you mean you don’t need all this information on his species? Of course you do! What if you mess up his structure in your attempt to navigate a foreign being!

Those who genuinely hate it

- Rollo could never hate you… No of course not. But there’s a deep, festering, wretched part of him that wishes your curiosity would just be satiated and you wouldn’t have to look upon such a hideous form…! Monstrous, ugly, so sinful… so…unhuman…! It’s not even because of the actually form itself, rather, how pitiful it feels to know he’s not even the same species of you. It makes him feel so unworthy of your affections, he doesn’t deserve the purity you provide for him, yet, he can’t help but consume each drop of joy you spare him with the utmost of greed and gluttony. It’s like, he’s been starved for hundreds of years before meeting you.

Which… In retrospect… isn’t that far off from his truth…

“Rollo, it’s okay, I just wanna see you up close.” … Please don’t talk to him in such an innocent tone. He was already unable to handle your hope while parading as a human, you really think he can control himself in his truest form?

- Neige feels bad turning down your requests of investigating him. No, really! If he could he would allow you to run your hands through his fingers all you want! Even letting you follow him around as he preforms his angelic deeds. He just… he can’t let you see... He can’t let you see the black feathers that adorn his back.

Because if you did… You would know… You would know just how deep his care for you goes. Which isn't a bad thing! He wants you to know how much he loves you, you just can’t know the more aggressive sides of that love…

[mariasont]

What if I put an insane little idea in your head and let it bounce around? Mid seasons (7/8 ish?) Spencer with a kinnda sorta fangirl? She just started at the BAU and it’s not that she’s weird about him but she does have like 3 of his papers memorized down to the letter and she “possibly quoted him on her college application essay” (it’s the literal conclusion).

Like she’s just this little ball of excitement and he has no clue what to do when the team is like “ask her out for the love of god and stop making heart eyes when she lets you nerd out”

Sorry if this makes no sense it’s 2:30 in the morning

FANGIRL - S.R

a/n: AHHHHH BECAUSE WHAT IF I JUST SMOOCHED YOU

loved, loved, LOVED this idea and writing it! you are amazing <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a fangirl for reid because WHO WOULDNT BE UGH

wc: 1.2k

"Dr. Reid, hi, it's such an honor. I'm the new agent."

You give him your name, hand extended out to him, bouncing off the balls of your feet. There was a badge pinned to your shirt, the clip attached to it gleaming in the fluorescent light, which despite its usual severity, seemed to soften around you.

Spencer comes to a standstill, his coffee suspended mid-sip, documents wrinkled in his hands as he assesses you. You are pretty. exceedingly so, but he's having trouble processing it, his mind still shrouded in the remnants of sleep. 

He blinks away his surprise. "Nice to meet you. Hotch must've briefed you about the team, I assume?"

He adjusted the heap of papers to under his arm, freeing his hand to meet yours. The softness he encountered prompted a momentary pause, awakening a sudden urge to not let go. However, he promptly set aside the thought, releasing your hand with a concealed hesitation. 

You fiddled with your earlobe, you shot him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, Hotch did, but I already knew a bit about you. I've always been a fan of your work. I mean, not like a fan per se, because that would be weird, right? But I've read all your papers, and they're just... they're brilliant, honestly."

Spencer was clearly caught off guard, his brows leaping upwards as he surveyed you. You weren't lying--that much was clear to him. He could see it in the way you met his eyes with an enthusiasm so bright it was nearly blinding.

"My work? You're actually familiar with it?"

A soft giggle bubbled from you, a sweet sound that seemed to momentarily leave him winded. He placed his coffee on the desk, leaning back slightly. 

"Oh, definitely. Your research on chemical composition analysis in narcotics? I've read it so many times I could probably recite it in my sleep."

He considered the possibility of you exaggerating. He took great pride in his work and (without sounding too cocky) he was well aware of its significance and contribution to his field. However, there's a difference between knowing your work is recognized and encountering someone who has internalized it to such a degree--especially someone like you. He suddenly felt a touch of self-consciousness.

"I'm sorry, that was too much, right? I promised I'd play it cool, and then I saw you and... well, it's all just really surreal," you said before gesturing vaguely towards the bullpen. "Anyway, I'm going to go, uh, find my desk."

You hurried away before he could refute your words, head bowed. He felt like an ass.

The day threw him off balance. His contributions to the team lacked their usual insight, his mental gears turning more slowly. And for some inexplicable reason, he found himself preoccupied with thoughts of you. He attempted to rationalize it as a reaction to your interest in his work, a level of admiration that was a rare find. Unlike the formal niceties from others, your excitement about his work, about him, stood out.

He tried to latch onto Hotch's deductions about the unsub, willing his intellect to snap to attention and offer up a decent theory. However, a glance in your direction derailed his efforts. You were bent over the desk, your hands animatedly navigating through the papers. He was happy to see your enthusiasm was there despite his lack thereof earlier.

"Based on the geographic profiling and the choice of victims, it looks like the unsub has a background in urban planning."

Emily nods, "Good theory. What led you to that?"

He watches the anxious flicker in your eyes, glancing towards him, hands clasped together as you incline your head his way.

"Actually, I read about a similar case in Dr. Reid's paper on The Spatial Patterns of Serial Offenses." It strikes him then--he hasn't yet invited you to use his first name, adding another tick to the ever-growing list of ways he feels he's been inadvertently discourteous. "The clustering of crime scenes near arterial routes suggests the offender leverages the urban grid to facilitate escape and avoid detection. Embarrassingly enough, that was the topic of my college application essay."

Spencer was momentarily speechless (not something that happened often), his mind racing through the physiological response to shock--catecholamine release, vagal tone alterations, even transient arrhythmias--mirroring the way his heart seemed to skip a beat. You really did have his work memorized.

"That's, uh, right," he said, his voice gaining momentum. "By leveraging the urban grid, the offender not only evades capture but also creates a psychological terrain of control."

Hotch nodded in agreement, turning your attention to a series of photographs.

Before Spencer even looked her way, he could sense Garcia's stare, and as he turned, she prodded him with her elbow, smirking. "Seems like she's quite the match for you, doesn't she?"

"Huh? What? No, I mean--she's my coworker, and besides, she's much younger." Spencer was quite sure he sounded anything but convincing.

Garcia raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. "I meant in terms of smarts, but oookay, Spencer."

She walked out with a bounce in that definitely hadn't been there earlier, and Spencer was left with a red face.

He had every intention of pulling you aside, to apologize for earlier, to reassure that he didn't find you odd or weird, and to admit that he was genuinely flattered. But it appeared that every time he had a chance to make it to your desk, you had vanished, or were in deep conversation with JJ, or inside Hotch's office.

It was a relentless cycle that persisted until the end of the day, when everyone began to leave--except for you, who remained still firmly planted at your desk, fervently jotting notes into your notebook.

Absorbed in your work, you didn't notice his approach until he cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said softly.

Startled, you flinched, prompting him to immediately feel like shit. Strike three. You laughed off the shock when you realized it was him, moving your notebook aside, offering him your undivided attention.

"Sorry, Dr. Reid, hi! How's it going? Is there something I can do for you?"

"I thought I'd see if you needed help with anything, and you can call me Spencer, if you want." He glanced at his watch. "Are you still working?"

You pushed a piece of hair from your face and nodded towards the formidable pile of forms. 

"Spencer, okay," you said, like you were testing it out, "and just sorting through a mountain of onboarding paperwork."

He nodded, hesitating slightly before speaking. "Listen, I need to apologize for earlier."

You tilted your head. "What for?"

"I think I wasn't as welcoming as I intended to be."

"That's okay, I know I was a bit intense."

He shook his head. "No, you weren't. It's just... It's rare that my work gets much attention. I'm happy you appreciated it. If there's a specific topic that you're more interested in, maybe I could explain more about it sometime?"

You glanced down at your hands, trying to hide the smile that was blooming there. You weren't successful. When you looked back up, Spencer felt a little bit awestruck by your eyes, the flecks of color that he could now see clearly.

"I'd love that. Maybe over coffee?" you suggested.

"Yeah, sure." He could feel the heat rushing up his neck. 

He reluctantly parted ways, leaving you to your paperwork, and as he approached the elevator, Penelope was there.

"You know, sugar, maybe I did mean quite the match in a romantic way. So, are you going to ask her out, or shall I play Cupid?"

He blushed. "I think she might have just beat me to it."

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[ladymercysletters]

Aegon the Soft

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count : 1474

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I haven't written in years so please bear with this. I just have some very soft feelings for the Targ siblings. All they need is a hug I SWEAR! anyways, hope you like it

When Aegon first married, he tried to be around you as little as possible. It was best that way, everyone else who should technically love him in his life never has; why would you be any different. The bedding ceremony had been performed; he had done his duty. He must only put a few heirs in you and that would be that. He finished that thought with the downing of his drink. Slamming the cup down on the table his men cheered around him, filling his cup as the merriment continued.

The hour was late, or early – who knew, when Aegon and his men finally dragged themselves back to the Red Keep. Sober knights greeted them and took the prince back to his rooms, depositing him on his bed.

“My Wife! Bring my wife to me!” he shouted, lolling about on his sheets and he struggled to stand.

“My prince, the hour is late an…”

“I know the hour. I said now!”

__________________________________________________________

Was he on a ship. He must be on a ship. His stomach rolled and churned so much it must be the waves on the ocean. Blinking blearily into the sunlight he vaguely felt fingers running through his hair. Aegon finally managed to focus his eyes on his bedside table, and the jug of water placed on it. The soft touch continued to caress his forehead and brush through the silver strands falling in front of his eyes.

“Good morning husband. How are you feeling this morning?” Aegon blinked and his mind cleared slightly. His wife was in his bed. You were stroking his hair from his face and asking if he was well? Thoughts flew through his head and as he jolted from the knowledge you were right behind him, his stomach reminded him of his current state and he rolled ungracefully from the bed. He landed sprawled on the floor causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth as you watched your severely hungover husband groan and roll around tangled in sheets before moving like a slug to the open doors of his balcony and slamming them close behind him.

You couldn’t see him like this. He hadn’t even managed to face you, but he knew he must look terrible and there was something in him, ridiculous as it may be, that wanted to keep you under the illusion that he wasn’t a complete failure. Once he’d finished evacuating the contents of his stomach off his balcony, and damningly close to his brother who was just making his way onto the training grounds for his morning spar with Cole, he inhaled deeply before steeling himself to walk back inside.

Opening the doors to his rooms, he saw you sitting prettily on the end of his bed. Hair fallen perfectly to frame your face, wearing only in a linen shift you had presumably slept in by his side all night – surely his wife had been carved by angels. Bustling in the room brought him back and he drew the sheets tighter around his waist. Maids flitted in and out, making up the bath and serving breakfast on a table set up at the end of the bed.

“Better?” you said shyly smiling at him. “I thought you might need something to line your stomach – and possibly a bath.” You trailed off. You’re right. He smelled revolting.

He doesn’t quite understand how or why you could be so nice to him, he thinks as he sinks into the steaming perfumed water. Especially as a vague memory of the previous night comes back to him, he’d stumbled back into the keep, pissed as a newt, and demanded you come to him to fulfil your wifely duties. Closing his eyes, Aegon felt his muscles relax in the warmth. Even his head lessened from the soothing lavender scent.

This time he felt your presence behind him before your touch. Softly, again, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving him gently forward so you could wash him. Your gentle touch was so foreign to him. Even when he was washed by the servants, they were never this gentle with him. The warm water cascaded down his back, your fingers working a floral scented soap into his hair and pressing firmly against his scalp. The sensation was heavenly. The warmth of your body surrounded him as you leant him back again to rinse the soap from his hair.

Once he was cleaned you set a small pillow at the back of the tub for him to rest his head on. Though he was a prince he was sure he had never been as pampered as this. He stared up into your face as he leant his head back, taking in the soft fluttering of your eyelashes and the curve of your cheeks and lips.

Though you had been married for over two moons now Aegon didn’t think he had ever really looked at you before now. Surely he would have lingered around you more if he had seen what a beauty he had married. Your mere presence brought him peace, and whilst he could not understand why you were being so kind to him, his heart overstepped his mind and let him live in this fantasy for just a moment longer; practically jumping from his chest when he felt you lay soft kisses along his hairline. Your warm smell invaded his nostrils and his eyes fluttered open to discover your neck and cleavage so close to his face. Your skin looked so smooth, and his lips ached for him to lean closer and place a reverent kiss to your collar.

You took a towel and held it out for him, helping him dry as he stepped out of the tub. His eyes rolled over your body as he dressed, tucking his loose shirt into linen britches as he watched you arrange the chairs around the breakfast table.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” his voice wavered ever so slightly at the question falling from his mouth.

“Aegon?” you replied. Softly breathing his name as you turned to face him. He was sure the sweet sound of your voice confirmed you had been sent from the gods. “I am here to care for you. I am your wife…” His face fell slightly at that, which you saw. Of course you were there for your duty. The thought brought back his words from the previous evening. Wifely duties. You were fulfilling your side of the bargain. “… and I like you.” You finished.

You studied his face as he looked at you. His delicate features held together by perfect milky skin. The rounded cupids bow of his lips forming a soft pout that was hard to resist. Though you’d seen his anger and drunkenness many times since your wedding and heard worse from the ladies of court before your arrival, you’d also seen the small sad look on his face whenever he’d leave a council meeting, or even just at dinner with his family. Although his mother had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, you could see this favour wasn’t extended to her own son, and his grandfather was even worse – openly mocking him with his father, the king when surely, they should have been teaching him.

Thoughts brought you back to reality as you stepped closer to him. Looking into his eyes, the pale violet seeming deeper towards his iris and wider as they searched yours for an answer. You softly took his wrist into your hands, sliding your fingers down to intertwine with his own you placed a small kiss between the crease in his brow.

“I am your wife. I know you did not choose me for love, or choose me at all, but I hope that you will know how much I care for you, and one day maybe you may care for me.” Aegon’s throat almost closed up, and his eyes betrayed him as they began to water. His thumbs barely moved to brush the backs of your hand bringing them up to place a kiss on your knuckles – gently leading you to sit next to him at the end of his bed.

The words struggled to form in his throat; a combination of a hangover and sudden emotion rendering him surprisingly catatonic. Your hand moved to stroke to side of his face, bringing his eyes back to your own.

“I will do my best” he whispered, leaning into the warmth of your palm. “I will do my best for you, and for our line.”

“I know you will. You will prove anyone who doubts you wrong.” You spoke, touching your forehead to his own. His eyes slipped closed once more, happy to bask in the bliss of your presence for as long as the gods would allow him.

[emchante]

wet dream

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: after a long day, oscar suggests you both take a nap together. however, oscar didn't get to sleep himself. how could he when you're rutting against him due to the wet dream that decided to play in your mind?

WARNINGS: 18+ content, dry humping/ thigh grinding, slight masturbation, vague somnophilia

w.c: 1.4k

a/n: 2 posts in 2 days? look at me go. anyways, first oscar post!! i'm so happy to finally have written for him, and i hope you guys enjoy. ell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask, i'd love to hear your feedback. and if this gets enough love then part 2 will be on the way. and, remember that requests are open.

it started out innocent enough. 

your bedroom was dimly lit, the faint glow from the bedside lamp was cast upon the walls. you and oscar were laying on the bed together, exhausted after a long day. 

it was oscar who had suggested it. 

“you look done in,” he murmured, laying on his side as he lifted his hand to cup your face. “maybe you should go for a little nap.”

you whined in return, a “nooo,” leaving your lips before you buried your head into his chest. “i need to spend as much time with you as possible, before you’re gone again.”

oscar smiled sympathetically— not that you seen it— before moving his hand to your hair, stroking it softly. “hey, a nap won’t do any harm. i’ll nap with you too, how does that sound?” he offered, making you lift your head from his chest as you looked at him. “that way.. we’re still technically spending time together,” he winked at you, making you smile.

that’s what got you where you were now. your body was pressed close to oscar’s, your head resting against the nape of his neck, one of your legs draped over his own. the steady rise and fall of your breath was proof you were knocked out cold, that oscar’s suggestion was worth it. 

oscar couldn’t sleep though. he was tired too, of course, but your soft breathing against his neck kept him wide awake, as well as as the constant shifting in your sleep, trying to get yourself comfortable. 

at first, it truly was innocent. 

the little nuzzle into his neck, was simply you trying to move impossibly closer to him. the shift of your leg against his own seemed innocent too, albeit the fact it rubbed against his crotch. but it was all accidental, of course. you were a restless sleeper, and that’s what he put it down to.

it was all innocent. until it wasn’t. 

your movements started to feel more deliberate, as your leg was now sliding higher up his thigh, staying there. it was impossible to miss the full body tense that consumed you, before a soft, almost inaudible moan escaped your lips. 

oscar’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened in realisation; you’re grinding against his thigh, clearly caught up in whatever fantasy was playing in your mind. 

he tries to stay still, tried to not focus on the slow yet insistent press of your hips against his thigh that sends a jolt of pleasure right to his core. he can feel the heat of you, even through the thin fabric that was separating you both from one another, the way you’re seeking something, even in your dream.

oscar’s cock twitches in his boxers, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip— trying to hold back any noises that threatened to escape him— as his hands fisted the sheets, trying to refrain from grabbing onto you. 

the movements of your body against him began to grow more insistent, each shift of your hips becoming more rhythmic. your leg tights around his thigh, trying to pull oscar closer as you let out another moan, this time more needy. 

oscar didn’t need to see your face to know you were having the time of your life, he could feel your features scrunching up against his skin, and your lips forming ‘o’ shapes every time a whine or moan escaped you. 

he can feel the dampness of your panties against his leg, soaking part of his leg and his shorts, and the feeling only sends a fiery heat throughout him. 

you mumble something incoherent in your sleep, but the tone in your voice is unmistakable— desperation. you’re rutting against his thigh like you can’t help it, out of control. like your body needs him, even in your dreams. 

oscar doesn’t know when it happened but when he came back to his senses, he realised his hand was now barely hovering above your waist. he was fighting a battle against himself, between restraint and the overwhelming urge to guide your body against his soaked thigh. 

his fingers twitch as he imagined pulling you down against him, helping you achieve what you were oh-so desperately chasing. the soft, breathy gasps were quickening against his neck, and oscar’s cock was painfully hard now, straining against his boxers. 

he lets out a shaky breath as your hand slips under his shirt, brushing against his abs. the touch is light and almost hesitant, as if you’re still finding your way about him in your dream. but every featherlight touch of the soft pads of your fingertips sends shivers through him, and he has to stifle any noises threatening to leave him. 

your breathing quickening isn’t something oscar misses, and he knows you’re getting closer. the friction of his thigh against your clothed pussy has you letting out a series of small, desperate whimpers, and oscar’s close to losing the battle against restraint. 

it doesn’t take long for it to come crashing down, though.

the whiny pant of “osc” that left your lips was what broke him. oscar couldn’t stop his hand from moving onto your waist, gripping your plush hip as he helped you move against him. he knew you didn’t mind, in fact; he knew you loved it, the groans that started to leave your mouth more often after his large fingers dug into your skin was confirmation of such. 

his eyes were dark with lust as he watched your body move against him, so needy and so desperate for release. his eyes drifted down to watch your clearly soaked panties move against his thigh, and oscar couldn’t stop himself. his free hand moved itself to your sensitive core, swiping two fingers along your clothed clit which caused your to involuntary buck against him in shock, a strangled moan leaving you. 

“shit,” oscar panted, licking his lips at your reaction. he moved his hand from your core, leaving it to rest atop his clothed, straining cock. oscar gave himself a small squeeze, as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure. he needed his own release so badly, but he would hold off; he’d wait until later. 

your movements were once again changing, now becoming more urgent as you subconsciously buried your face further into his neck. a choked gasp slips from your lips, hips jerking forward and trying to press down harder. he can feel your slickness through his shorts, and it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

your thighs clench around his left one, pulling him closer. you're whimpering now, every breath was a little cry of desperation, and oscar can feel how your body is trembling against him. 

oscar’s hand moves from your hip to your ass, squeezing it softly as he pushes you further into him. “come on, baby,” he whispers, watching your body continue to rut against him like a rabid dog; all in your sleep. 

then, suddenly, your body goes taut, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips. your hips press hard against his thigh, and your grinds are now moving in small, desperate circles. oscar can feel your pussy clenching against him as you finally reach the tip of your climax. 

you let out a breathless cry, your body shuddering as the orgasm washes over you. oscar’s breath catches in his throat as he watches, mesmerized by the way how lost you are in your pleasure, even though you were sound asleep. 

you ride out every last wave of your climax, and he can feel your wetness pooling against the skin of his thigh, soaking it and some of the fabric of his shorts. his rabbit-like teeth bite down on his bottom lip, a low groan escaping him as his dick throbs almost painfully at how aroused he is himself. 

slowly, your body allows itself to relax, the tension in your muscles easing as breath resumes in it’s normal, steady rhythm. you’re still trembling a little, hand clenched as it moved to rest on his chest under his shirt. you move to rest your cheek on oscar’s shoulder now, soft snores escaping your lips. 

oscar moves his head back to see you, and your eyes are fluttered shut, your face relaxed with your mouth slightly open. you’re asleep now, the wet dream that has consumed you was now over as you started to resume the peaceful sleep you went for originally.  

his eyes moved down to his shorts, looking at the dark patch of wetness that had stained them. they then moved to his crotch, where his erection was still visible, and he could still feel it throb. oscar licked his lips before gulping, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. 

this wasn’t over, he just had to wait until you woke up. 

[genshin-scenarios]

spiderverse —!

Summary: Spider-verse AUs with the genshin guys! Each features a reader in a different role. There will be references to ‘Into the Spiderverse’ and other renditions of spiderman (vaguely).

Characters: Kinich, Heizou, Tighnari-Cyno, Venti, Wriothesley, Lyney

Kinich

By day, Kinich is a recluse who spends the better half of his free time volunteering at the local animal reserve. It’s also where he got bitten by a radioactive spider, and you can probably guess what happened next.

Ajaw is a unique phenomenon — a ‘Venom-like’ symbiote who latches specifically to technology. After Kinich managed to seal him away in a random cell phone, Ajaw has made a deal with the hero to become an assistant of sorts. If you listen carefully, you almost always hear a second voice coming out of Spiderman’s mask — Ajaw, trying to get Kinich to choose violence, while Kinich kicks him off the server for being a distraction.

However, times when they do work together are one of the most terrifying things anyone can see. Kinich’s spidersuit is engulfed in Ajaw’s power, and every lunge and strike is more destructive than the last. Often, Ajaw tries to overpower Kinich and take over his vessel, but Kinich has more than a few safety precautions to prevent the symbiote from possessing him fully. 

You’re a spiderhero from another universe, much like the situation in ITSV (except it’s only the two of you)! Some sort of interdimensional portal has stranded you in Kinich’s world, and you were quick to track him down when he was on shift at the animal reserve one day, appearing out of nowhere and gaining his suspicion. The night ended swiftly, with you escaping and leaving a thousand questions in his head, while the building’s alarms blared deafeningly, trying and failing to locate the intruder that has since disappeared into the shadows.

It’s a shortlived game of cat and mouse, considering how you wanted to get Kinich’s help in figuring out how to get home. One thing leads to another, and your secretive interactions admittedly become a large part of Kinich’s daily life. When he realises that you’re destined to leave his world to protect your own one day, Kinich is left with a feeling that’s foreign to him: gaping loneliness, sitting next to an empty spot on the rooftop that used to be yours. 

It’s not just the fact that you understand him on a level that most others never would — but having something to look forward to when he was Spiderman was such a saving grace. Swooping past skyscrapers alongside you, going on impromptu missions (dates), and revelling at how normal you look without your mask on. He recognises the lilt in your voice, the scrunch of your brow, and knows deep down that there's no way to undo how your existence has been engraved into him. 

…And deep down, he already feels the stab of how hollow it will feel, when those who’ve seen you two hanging out together inevitably ask where you’ve gone. And all he can say is that you’ve moved back to your city with your family, knowing there was no way for any of them to find you. 

Heizou

Shikanoin Heizou is a talented detective in Inazuma’s capital city, while Spiderman is a local hero. One works with the law while the other is sometimes considered a vigilante, but as far as Heizou is concerned, there was nothing wrong with using different methods to solve a case. So long as the outcome was the ideal, or best possible, he didn’t have the luxury of beating himself up over other ‘what ifs’ and ‘what can I do better’s.

Besides, Shikanoin Heizou was a genius detective, and with that came a high amount of success rates in his civilian profile. Spiderman, on the other hand, represents the parts of justice that sometimes can never be controlled — a criminal who was about to surrender, only to have been attacked by a third-party cop. A villain who realised the error of his ways and ended his life to spare the city, and the families Heizou reminded him still lived within it. 

…A friend who was stealing for the wrong reasons, and reached a tragic end. There are many ugly conclusions to the cases Heizou tackles, but all he can do is push on. While being Spiderman places more responsibility in his hands, it was better than not being able to do anything.

And even at times where Heizou’s morale is at an all time low, he can at least rely on your presence to make his days brighter. You’re a reporter who likes to visit him for psychological support and gossip — and while he’d never say it aloud, everyone with eyes can tell that you’re his favourite media staff. He gives you more intel and hints to your own cases than he does with anyone else, and even assists you as Spiderman from time to time.

Heizou isn’t one to place his trust in others easily, but when you defended ‘the detective Heizou’ during a run-in with ‘Spiderman’, who’d criticised the police’s slow progress on a large case, it was a little hard not to feel endeared. Heizou still remembers the frown etched into your face as you told him that the detectives were doing all they could. And to cooperate with them himself if he was so confident.

It’s an odd situation for sure, to see you acting wary with his hero-persona yet so warm and caring towards his civilian self. Regardless, Heizou’s main worry now is keeping you safe within a climate of risky investigations and volatile third-parties. So long as you place your faith in him, he’ll do everything he can to defend you in turn.

Tighnari-Cyno

Yes, this is a Tighnari x Reader x Cyno situation! 

Tighnari and Cyno are the two spidermen of Sumeru — they work together on a reluctant basis, since they are unaware of each other’s real identities. Not to mention that Tighnari (Vulpes) is more outspoken and sharp-tongued in his hero persona, while Cyno (Lupus) is endlessly talkative and fond of bad science jokes even at really bad times. 

It’s a little similar to their regular selves, but dialed up within the drama of their hero work. While they get along well enough, Tighnari is endlessly exasperated about Lupus, while Cyno thinks that Vulpes needs to lighten up. (You could say that they aggravate one-another).

It does kill Cyno to not tell his best friends about his secret identity, but he is more than aware of the danger it’ll bring to them all. Besides, it’s not like he’s working alone against these villains, so it’s fine! In fact, this would be a very cool thing to reveal decades into the future, once the danger has passed onto other heroes who adopt the mantel 

This is where you come in as their best friend in school! You can generally be found as a trio, and while everyone’s been ‘busier’ since the year started, you still make time to catch up with one-another about things going on in your lives.

…But, seeing as both Cyno and Tighnari are keeping their spider-selves a secret, they’ve developed different systems to make convincing stories about how they spend their weekend. Tighnari rambles something about collecting new plants to add to his collection, and then has to rush to the florist after he agrees to let you see them after this (he had to jump in through his room window to put everything into place.)

Meanwhile, Cyno keeps droning about some Dungeon and Dragon’s campaign he’s developing for your larger friendgroup to try, when in reality he has nothing written down. It’s mostly just inspired from his daydreaming during patrols as Lupus, which Vulpes always snaps him out of with a whack to the head. 

The kicker, however, is when you become a bystander to a large villain attack one day, and upon the conclusion of it, Tighnari may have accepted a thank-you kiss from you (on the cheek) as Vulpes. It was a stupid decision, seeing as you didn’t even know it was him. But Tighnari was too busy trying to hide his own flushing ears when you were retelling this, to notice the way Cyno’s expression blanked out (he is planning a confrontation with Vulpes as you speak). 

Said confrontation will be one of the few times he sees Vulpes looking uncertain, or embarrassed, which immediately throws Cyno off his initial anger. It makes Cyno question if Vulpes knew who you were in real life, but Cyno forces himself to stamp that curiosity away in favour of their secret identities.

Venti

You and Venti were close friends in Mondstadt, before you had to move to Liyue for family reasons. In reality, you were getting dragged into a different sort of superhero business, within a universe where many other heroes exist (like the MCU with the Avengers and etc).

As such, this AU takes on a more casual route! You’re thankfully not too far away, so Venti can visit you via a train or bus ride. But it’s never the same as when he’d knock on your window after a rough day, not able to tell you it was because of a mission as Barbatos (Spiderman), but you always accepted him with open arms anyways. Him visiting you like that was nothing new, even before he’d become a superhero. And Venti never intended to cut off that connection with you.

But, you never told him about your hero-business either. Which is why when Venti tries to visit your apartment on a whim (just to see how you were doing, and then leaving back to Mondstadt immediately since he was in the area after chasing a villain) — he can’t resist the urge to enter through the window when he sees that no one is there. 

He just wanted to see how different things might be, compared to your old place. He’s getting hit by a web-block of all things at this time, and god, he can’t bring himself to call you up just to listen to his woes, but he misses you.

After what only felt like a few seconds, he hears footsteps at the door. Venti panics, praying to all radioactive spiders in the world that his web-block is not active now and sticks to the ceiling as your parents come in to look for you, only to leave after realising you aren’t there.

He lets out a sigh of relief, soundlessly steps back onto the floor. Only to hear the sound of something charging up to shoot behind his back.

‘Hands on your head. Turn around.’ 

The last thing you thought you’d see as the suited-infiltrator followed your instructions, was to see your best friend’s face. Eyes widened in just as much surprise as you were feeling, before he breaks into a sheepish smile.

‘Venti?’ ‘...Can I put my hands down now?’ ‘What are you doing here?’

And so, Venti ends up staying the night. He hides while you grab two portions of dinner and set it on the desk. Explanations float into the air. You tell him that your family only moved because of a project from Morax Companies. One employing your parents, while another recruited you for a certain task force. 

Lore exchanges were quick to follow. Venti tries to defend his honour when you snort, asking him to reiterate that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. ‘So you can, like—stick to the wall and stuff? Like what I saw in the news?’ 

To make a point, Venti shoots a web to wrap around your wrist, using it to tug you forward towards him. You lose your balance and end up closer than he intended, forcing the room to fall into embarrassed silence. 

This was certainly going to be a long night.

Wriothesley

As the owner of an underground boxing ring, it was safe to say that Wriothesley’s origins as Spiderman was an incredibly tragic, and dramatic one. Forced into a corner as thugs attempted to take over his underground settlement, Wriothesley almost thought he wasn’t going to make it out alive when a stinging pain bit into the back of his neck.

Minutes later, the floor was cleared of hostiles, and order was restored. No one knows who Spiderman is until this day, other than you — the detective who’s always worked with Wriothesley for tough cases and invited him to casual teatime chats.

In his defence, working with you was a matter of course. You helped cover his tracks as Spiderman and the owner of an illegal business. …And you also came from the same orphanage as him. If there’s anyone who understands the need for an anchor within this world of muddled morals and false promises, it was you.

What he doesn’t appreciate, however, is the way you always find yourself in the middle of trouble. It comes with the territory of being the city’s best detective, but sometimes Wriothesley swears you have more enemies than him. More than a few times, he finds himself carrying you in his arms after a rather precarious mission, and you have the cheek to thank him and place a kiss on his lips, blocked by his mask. 

His fighting style does leave him with more injuries than not. Despite how most spiderheroes tend to use agility over strength, Wriothesley never shook off the habit of using punches and brute strength, in order to physically reorient his opponents. It’s less city damage, but the result is more strain on his body, and a silver lining of you exasperatedly scolding him as you treat his wounds. 

‘At this rate, I’m going to have to replace you as Spiderman if you ever get so injured you can’t continue.’

As if he’d ever let that happen. The last thing that’ll ever happen is him leaving your side, after all the hell you’ve been through together. If there was ever a world where you were separated, he knows that every version of himself would cross the multiverse for you.

Lyney

As a reverse, you are the Spiderman while Lyney, Lynette and Freminet are part of the Fatui — not necessarily just a villain organisation, but an antagonistic force with a dangerous set of special agents nevertheless.

You first meet when you’re fighting Lyney and Lynette, in an attempt to put a stop to the Fatui’s nefarious plans. They’re known as the Phantom Twins but are otherwise unnamed — but it's clear from that one interaction that one of said twins were incredibly talkative and taunting, aggravatingly so, whilst the other was a silent blade.

Next, you meet as your civilian selves in school. Neither party suspects anything of the other, but the main attraction comes in the form of Lyney developing a hopeless crush on you. He admires you from afar, and all you know about him is that he’s a friendly, charming classmate. 

Then, by night: chasing the twins across the city’s rooftops, attempting to get back an artefact they stole from the museum. If you don’t get it back soon, that one reporter that hates Spiderman’s guts is going to imply that you were in on the heist too, for sure.

In that moment of distracted thought, Lyney sneaks up from behind you and holds a weapon to your neck. Silently threatening to use it if you move, and it takes all the self control in your body to not act out when you hear the smirk in his voice. 

‘A little distracted today, are we? While I can empathise with having something on one’s mind, it really shouldn’t interrupt our dance. Unless you were thinking of another partner?’

It’s clear from his tone that his words were meant to purely taunt you. His false sympathy dripped like honey, making you see red.

If you ever got a chance to unmask these two, you already know who you’re going to get revenge on first. (Let’s just hope that this dance of double-lives doesn't interrupt each other too much, at the end of this saga. Perhaps Lyney will find out your secret identity first, and begin to sympathise with you — between his loyalty to the Fatui and his love for you, he surely will be put into a tough spot. And if he doesn’t play his cards right, he might just have to sacrifice himself to the fire to preserve your light.)

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

Buy me a ko-fi

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 2

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit. 

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 

“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

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