#bird themed crimes.

[short-circuit-the-great]

Crossfire is a dangerous villain and all but he will abandon the nefarious task at hand when he remembers he hasn't bugged his Conjunx in a while and let me tell you how many times that will probably save Knock Out's ass

[luludeluluramblings]

It would be funny of the duck is in the same animal organization as Perry the platypus. Idk who his arch enemy would be tho I wanna say penguin cause of the bird theme. But what if it's the head of the court of owls.

Like maybe they want reader and the duck is constantly foiling their plans. And reader can't tell that the mysterious fedora wearing duck is their pet duck cause their baby is too innocent to shoot at the court of owls memebers.

The Duck showing up to fight the Court of the Owls dressed like this so Batman takes the blame for all their war crimes

Reader doesn't recognize their own Duck, but does put up BatDuck posters in their room.

[luna-azzurra]

10 Secrets Your Character Is Desperately Hiding (and Probably Will Until They Die or Get Drunk Enough to Confess)

╰ They moonlight as an absolutely awful stand-up comedian.

They don’t just tell bad jokes, they commit to them. We’re talking full costume, dollar-store wigs, a fake name like “Chuckles McSuffer,” and punchlines that make people groan so hard their souls briefly exit their bodies. And....they love it. The stage is the only place they feel weirdly free… which is why no one in their real life can ever know. Ever.

╰ They can dance like their life depends on it, but they never do it in public.

We’re talking footwork that would make a music video jealous. Rhythm in their bones. But they’ve decided the world isn’t ready. Or maybe they’re not. So they only dance alone in the kitchen at 2 a.m. Or in the middle of a supermarket aisle when they think no one’s looking. And when they do get caught? “Nope. That wasn’t me. That was… a spasm. Mind your business.”

╰ They’re secretly freakishly good at imitating animals.

Birds. Dogs. Goats. Snakes. They’ve got the sounds, the gestures, the whole weird little zoo living inside them. It’s the kind of skill you don’t admit to having because it’s impossible to explain how it started or why you’re so good at it. They only let it out when alone… or, let’s be real, when they’re trying to impress someone and immediately regret it.

╰ They are the office prankster. And no one suspects a thing.

Every missing stapler, glitter bomb, whoopee cushion, and mysteriously replaced family photo? That’s them. The mild-mannered barista/accountant/space pilot you’d never suspect. They’ve got an entire prank calendar hidden in their sock drawer and a spreadsheet of targets and outcomes. But they also have boundaries. No emotional damage. Just chaos.

╰ They have a full-on karaoke alter ego.

Different name. Different voice. Whole new personality. They sneak off to karaoke bars in the next town over wearing sunglasses indoors and croon power ballads like their soul is trapped in a 2005 romcom montage. Their go-to number is “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Their real friends have no idea. And if they ever found out? This character would simply evaporate.

╰ They collect the weirdest sh*t you’ve ever seen.

Not stamps. Not coins. Try: novelty rubber ducks. Ugly fridge magnets. Cursed porcelain dolls. Empty chip bags from every country they’ve visited. Their closet is one shelf away from being a museum of “What Even Is This.” No one knows. No one must know. It brings them joy. It’s their version of peace. And yeah, it’s a little creepy. But it’s theirs.

╰ They cannot cook to save their life. Like, not even toast.

They once set a salad on fire. The microwave fears them. Every “simple recipe” turns into a crime scene. But instead of admitting it, they just… lie. Constantly. “Oh yeah, I made that!” (They did not. Their neighbor did. And their neighbor swore never to speak of it again.) They’ve mastered the art of deflection, distraction, and showing up with “store-bought but plated nicely.”

╰ They live their life by a bunch of completely nonsensical superstitions.

Never wear green on Wednesdays. If a pigeon looks at you sideways, cancel your plans. Salt must be thrown over the right shoulder or the demons will know. They’ve got a ritual for everything, from writing emails to picking socks. But no one knows they believe this stuff, because they make it look casual. Strategic coincidence. That’s the game.

╰ They throw underground dance parties in their basement. Alone. In costume.

Disco ball? Check. Fog machine? Obviously. Elaborate themed playlists? You bet. Their Tuesday nights are sacred: just them, their playlist called “Sad but Funky,” and a new costume every week. No one suspects. Not the roommates. Not the neighbors. If anyone ever found out, they’d lie and say it was for a friend’s child’s birthday. Every week. Sure.

╰ Their hobbies are… specific. And objectively hilarious.

Like, not “I read books and do yoga” hobbies. More like: competitive pillow fighting. Binge-watching bug documentaries and taking notes. Collecting socks with political slogans. Writing erotica starring finger puppets (don’t ask). They act normal, mostly. But their browser history is a carnival. And their heart? Pure chaos.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

au where pretty much all of gotham knows damn well bruce wayne's small army of children are also the assorted bat and bird themed vigilantes around town (considering they barely cover their faces and their ages, races, heights, and timelines all line up perfectly lmao) BUT. they still think bruce is just their resident sadboy beloved princess like no way he's batman. he's a soaking wet premie kitten of a man. if you raise your voice around him he'd probably startle like a baby deer. one time I bumped into bruce wayne on the street and both of our briefcases spilled open everywhere when we fell and he teared up and gave me his wallet while apologizing for being too lost in his own thoughts. one time I accidentally poured hot soup in his lap at a gala and he just said "thank you😔". he's just a little guy he's depressed and his rowdy-ass kids sap up all the little energy he has so OBVIOUSLY he's not batman. and like this open secret becomes a whole debate about whether or not he knows his kids are doing this, and whether or not someone should tell him about it. like on one hand yeah they're doing great things for the city. but hasn't that poor guy been through ENOUGH? can he handle the stress of knowing his babies are risking their lives? would he make them stop, or does he already know and allows it? he doesn't seem that irresponsible of a parent tho! would he feel pride or horror if he knew they became the type of person he (and his parents) needed when he was younger? for the most part, people leave them to it, seeing as most of the wayne kids are adults anyway, but every now and then little damian saves some older ladies just for them to end up yelling at him about how his daddy has a poor constitution and his heart will give out from all the stress (and he's just gotta stand there like 😡😡😡😡😡 because arguing would essentially be confirming his identity and he Cannot be the one to fuck that up first. there's a betting pool. he Needs tim to be the one who loses.) bruce is completely oblivious to this except for sometimes when he's out as batman people will be like "you're a monster for letting these kids fight crime its so irresponsible" and he's just like "yeah I know but if I don't give them an outlet they'd probably destroy the city themselves🙄" and the citizens are like flashing back to the bruce wayne birthday bash incident of 2019 that ended with a city block in flames, half the kids in jail and bruce checking himself into one of those fake rehabs rich people go to when they need to escape the stress of being rich and an 8 year old acting as ceo for wayne enterprises for two months before the 8 year got accused of war profiteering so bruce had to check out of the rehab early. and they're like "okay yeah that's fair" and figure maybe gotham's sweetest son bruce is at least getting a good night sleep in a quiet mansion while his beloved yet terrible children are burning off energy beating people up all night

[prlssprfctn]

Ever think about how niche and rich Gotham culture must be? (aka i've been going over this whilst writing and needed to share)

Like-

Would gas masks become fashionable?

Would there be even stricter laws about importing certian goods into Gotham or even tracking places that sell them?? (ex Nitrous Oxide, balloons, birds, etc)

Do people rep different Bat merch like a local sports team?

Would people treat the Bats (or other guest vigilantes) like bird watching? (*cough tim cough*)

Is there a weapon/gear drop off service??

Or do people collect that shit

Would there be antidote administration lessons alongside epi pen first aid in schools?

Please id love to hear your thoughts/interpretations because I swear theres so much- (Sincerely, @batfambrainrotbeloved)

this is one of the best asks i had received here. single-handedly. here is what i think:

gas masks are DEFINITELY a part of the local fashion. they have vigilante and rogue themed once also! do you want Batman-themed gas mask? here you go. or Red Robin one? oh, what is it? you want THE special edition gas mask? the Scarecrow THEMED one? don't worry. we have you covered.

i just know that customs house workers are NOT getting paid enough for this shit. they have, like, ridiculous amount of directive about the simplest items, and that's why tourists are skipping this fucking town. i also pretty much need the game in Papers, Please style with customs house in Gotham, lmao—

my personal canon? every vigilante and some of rogues have merch selling in the town; some more popular than others. my personal canon x2? the Crime Alley started to rep their own Red Hood merch, and Jason was flabbergasted. he then visited the owners of the merch, encouraging them to donate this ridiculous amount of money they get for the rest of Crime Alley citizens. once people found out about this? they went even more insane. the selling of Red Hood merch is just OVER the top. (bonus headcanon: sometimes, there is a ship merch, too. like SuperBat stuff. or BatCat. Dick accidentally stumbles on BatJokes when he hunts for SuperBats key chains and calls Jason to ask him to burn this place down.)

Tim was the OG birdwatcher, trust. but also, YEAH. i am pretty sure some people prepare themselves for the night by grabbing binoculars and super-puper rich cams to examine Bats in their natural habitat. Bats know about the existence of these people, but they can't really do anything about it. Tim has a secret Reddit account that is a local expert in their Gotham Birdwatching community, where he is giving advice or just being a condescending asshole to people. Barbara sometimes chimes in this subreddit to add her own thoughts.

Bats suck at keeping their gadgets or broken pieces of inventory, trust. and people...? oh, people collect this shit. it is either freaks, who have their own personal museums for this, or, like, people who sell what they find on Amazon. everyone wants a piece of that to themselves. (bonus headcanon: Crime Alley people keep bringing Red Hood's dropped weapons and gears back, under Jason's door, even though Jason *insists* that he has no connection to Red Hood. uh-uh.)

i always thought police stations, schools, hospitals, and similar public spaces have different antidotes stocked in any case — Bruce Wayne makes sure it does. and yes, i think they have special lessons for different, specific scenarios: what to do once faced with toxins or pollens, how to apply medicine, or what to do if there is none of it. how to act if there are Poison Ivy's plants surrounding you, etc, etc. police officers definitely carry a few antidotes on themselves, just in case people will need it. and, obviously, the same goes for Bats.

[pomegranatelifethis]

Batfam with reader who is obsessed with birds and works at an aviary? Not necessarily yandere or neglected reader but they just never knew and now they’re all questioning if they got into birds because their family is nicknamed bats and birds.

Reader admits not necessarily, they just had too much free time because they aren’t a vigilante and started looking into actual Robins and other birds. Now the whole family is visiting the aviary and donating whenever because they see how much reader loves the place. Cuz let’s be honest—an aviary in Gotham would probably be kind of sad or used for birds who can’t go back to the wild or need the high tech vet equipment.

In the sky

The fact that there was an aviary in Gotham was strange enough, but this place was especially unique. It was a sanctuary for birds that couldn’t return to the wild or needed special care. In the midst of the city's chaos, it was a quiet place, filled with the sound of fluttering wings and soft chirps.

And this was where [Name] found themselves coming every day—eventually even volunteering.

The rest of the Batfamily had no idea. At least, not for a while. They assumed [Name] was just as busy as they were, running through the shadows, fighting crime. But the truth was, [Name] spent their free time with birds.

How did they find out?

By accident.

One day, Dick had been looking for fun anecdotes about the name "Robin" when he stumbled upon [Name]’s search history. Gotham’s bird species, interesting facts about old Robins, hunting techniques of raptors—the list went on. Then, one day, Tim spotted [Name] entering the aviary. Curious, he followed.

And he couldn’t believe what he saw.

[Name] was holding an injured hawk, their eyes shining with affection.

That day, everything changed.

First, Tim came by to check it out. Then Dick. Then Jason, just to see what all the fuss was about. Damian, already an animal lover, didn’t take long to join. Eventually, even Bruce found himself there.

And so, Gotham’s most dangerous family started making regular donations to an aviary.

Of course, [Name] understood that they probably felt some kind of connection because of their bird-themed codenames. But the truth was much simpler: [Name] just loved birds. It was an escape from Gotham’s noise, from the chaos, from the life of masks and fights.

Still, after seeing how much it meant to [Name], their family kept donating more and more.

Bruce framed it as a strategic investment. (“It’s important for Gotham’s ecosystem.”)

Jason just shrugged. “At least these winged creatures don’t scream at me.”

Dick declared, “This place is amazing!” and immediately started suggesting names for the birds.

Damian asked, “Can I bring Titus?”

And Tim? Tim was still suspicious about [Name]’s deep dive into bird research.

“Are you trying to tell us something?” he asked one day.

[Name] rolled their eyes while petting an owl. “I just have too much free time.”

But their family? Whether they meant to or not, they had become a part of [Name]’s world.

The family's visits to the aviary had become a tradition. At first, they were just curious—why was [Name] so attached to this place? But over time, each of them admitted that, in a strange way, it was soothing.

Of course, they experienced it in their own chaotic ways.

Dick always tried to talk to a parrot or a crow whenever he visited. One day, he winked at an injured sparrow and said, “Look, another orphan.” Jason muttered, “If I ever need to send a message to someone I want dead, I’ll do it with a raven.” Damian, while feeding a crippled hawk, had decided to name it “Death Talon.”

Bruce? He mostly stood in the background, made donations, and ensured everyone was happy.

But Tim… Tim was still suspicious.

“Okay,” he said one day, crossing his arms as he looked at [Name]. “Tell me the truth. Did you… get inspired by us?”

[Name] furrowed their brows while holding a pigeon. “Why would I do that?”

“Because!” Tim gestured broadly at the entire aviary. “Your whole life is about birds! Out of everything in Gotham, isn’t it weird that you ended up working in an aviary?”

[Name] thought for a moment.

Yes, maybe it was weird. But when they first visited, they had found solace in escaping Gotham’s cold and chaotic atmosphere. Here, in this warm space filled with the sound of fluttering wings, there was no crime. No gunfire. Just wounded creatures trying to heal.

Then, they smiled softly.

“Maybe I just haven’t gotten used to having free time without being an outlaw.”

Tim stared at them for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Alright. But I’m still suspicious.”

And so, the Bat Family remained Gotham’s most unusual benefactors. At some point, Bruce’s foundation even became an official sponsor of the aviary.

And in that way, [Name]’s world and their family—under wings—became a little more connected.

---

You knew this was a bad idea within the first five minutes.

But what could you do? Dick had insisted, "We can all help in some way!" Tim had said, "With our organizational skills, we can make this place more efficient." Jason had just shrugged and said, "Count me in, might be fun." And when Bruce said, "Contributing to the community is a good thing," you knew there was no escape.

And now, here you were. Having made the biggest mistake of your life.

---

Dick – Pigeon Chaos

You told Dick to just feed the pigeons. Simple task. But this was Dick. And nothing ever stayed simple with him.

"Alright, everyone, form a line!" he called out, throwing the feed into the air.

Wrong move.

Because within a minute, dozens of pigeons swarmed.

At first, Dick was amused. Then, he realized they were flying straight at him.

"AH! OKAY! TOO MANY! TOO MANY!" he shouted, stumbling back. But it was too late. The pigeons had already landed on his shoulders, arms, and head.

Jason collapsed onto the ground, laughing. "We could leave you here as Alfred's new garden decoration."

Dick, panic all over his face, narrowed his eyes. "If you don’t help me, I’m dragging you into this."

Jason took a step back. "Fine, fine, enjoy yourself."

Meanwhile, one of the pigeons started pecking at Dick’s hair.

---

Jason – A Predator Problem

Jason had made a grave mistake by saying, "I can handle the birds of prey."

And now, a very intense-looking owl was challenging him.

"Look, buddy," Jason said, staring at the owl perched in front of him. "I’m just trying to feed you. Stop giving me that look."

The owl glared harder.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

The owl narrowed its eyes.

Neither moved.

You took a deep breath. "Jason, please stop trying to establish dominance over an owl."

Jason sighed, realizing the owl was still glaring at him. "Forget this."

Just as he turned away, the owl spread its wings and launched itself directly at him.

And in that moment, Gotham’s deadliest assassin started running around, yelling, "AH! AH! GET OFF ME!"

Tim pulled out his phone. "This is definitely getting recorded."

With the owl now proudly perched on his head, Jason admitted defeat.

---

Tim – Smart Guy, Dumb Mistake

Tim’s job was simple: prepare the birds' medicine.

And Tim, naturally, turned it into a science experiment.

"If I optimize the dosage system, we can save time," he muttered, mixing a small batch into a bottle.

The result?

The bottle exploded.

Medicine splattered everywhere.

And Tim, now covered in a greenish-blue liquid, slowly blinked.

Jason fell to the ground, laughing again. "And thus, Dr. Frankenstein continues to terrorize the aviary."

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, he lowered his head. "Maybe... I didn’t need to make everything more efficient."

You sighed. "YES, TIM. MAYBE YOU DIDN’T."

Damian – The Overly Serious Falcon Trainer

Damian took on the task of handling the falcons. This should have been the least chaotic.

Except he was staring at the birds way too seriously, silently trying to train them.

"We will work together," he declared, locking eyes with a small falcon. "You and I will be Gotham’s greatest duo."

Tim snorted. "Damian, that bird probably just wants food."

Damian lifted his chin proudly. "He has great potential."

Jason rolled his eyes. "I know a bird with great potential. Its name is KFC."

Damian shot him a death glare.

Jason shrugged. "What? Just a joke."

At that moment, the small falcon grabbed onto Damian’s cape with its beak.

And Damian lost his balance and fell.

Everyone went silent.

Then Jason collapsed in laughter again.

Bruce – The Dark Knight vs. A Tiny Sparrow

And then, it was Bruce’s turn.

All he had to do was return a tiny, harmless sparrow to its cage.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Because the sparrow escaped.

And flew straight into Bruce’s collar.

And that’s how Gotham’s most terrifying man ended up wrestling with a tiny bird trying to get into his shirt.

"...This was not part of the plan," he said, stone-faced.

Jason wheezed. "BATMAN LOST TO A SPARROW!"

Tim was in tears. Dick was on the floor. Damian had buried his face in his hands, mortified.

You buried your head in your hands.

"...We are never doing this again."

But deep down, you had to admit—you kind of enjoyed the chaos.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @welpthisisboring @lilyalone @maria-trisha

[vintagecandy]

Now for the 1920s reimagining of Jonathan Crane ! sorry this explanation is even longer lmao

As everyone's been saying, I should do the rest of the Dork Squad to match 1920s Jervis, and so here is my Jonathan! Easily the hardest to draw out of the three-- but I must say! Despite being outside my expertise, I'm a little surprised how much it looks exactly like I was imagining! Even if it took me ages but that's just procrastination lmao.

Anyways! What is his deal? Well, for one, design wise I did go a more drastically different direction from his usual look by doing a literal scareCROW. He's much more bird like, with a plague doctor mask being common imagery in steampunk, but he's still very southern themed with his messy broken overall strap and patchwork coat. Even his wings are rustic. ( he can't fly just glide btw lol ) Also! I leaned hard into the color orange instead of his usual green gas because it..... bugs me that both Crane and Nygma have a bright green in their color palette. I just want them to have distinct colors if they're going to be a trio. And look how vintage halloweeny he looks !!

So why is he so well dressed out of costume? Well! This Jonathan Crane is not a psychologist at all, here he is the very successful grandfather of horror movies in the silent film era. ( An illustrious origin, i hope canon Crane would be proud lmao ). This is referenced in how his face looks, he's wearing white powder and black makeup that's usually meant to emphasize key features on blurry film like his upper lip and around his eyes. And yes, he just keeps his makeup on during most events, and people just accept he's a little on the... eccentric side.

To me, the archetype of the mad artist fits Jonathan's vibe perfectly. When it comes to striking fear, he's a perfectionist, a trait that drove him to learn every single skill necessary himself, from costume design to props to making his own cameras to mechanical engineering, to.... a "fear gas" that was supposed to gently encourage immersion in the audience but ended up becoming a dangerous chemical weapon.

For his origin crime I am thinking !! Full blown Scooby Doo style monster mystery!! With some nuance! Crane, as a first impression, gives off an immediate air of pompous, aggressively impatient, pretentious director type. His presence is big and dramatic, but its distinctly not southern-- in fact, he seems to play up something between a hollywood accent and a thespian one. But this is all to cover for his farm hick background that he was once very ashamed of.

As a child of a failing farmhand during an infamously dry and dusty era, Jonathan developed an extreme resentment for his country existence from both the bullying of other children for all his strange quirks and the severe verbal and physical abuse of his father, driven to alcoholism by the stress of poverty and the loss of his wife. Originally offering his artistic ideas as a means to help them, he grows sick of their closed mindedness and berating and runs away to learn about the emerging potential of film in Gotham City.

Its been many years, Jonathan now in his early 30s, he finds himself surrounded by the shallow, champagne aristocrats that reflect his childhood bullies. Feeling wrong in his own skin, he develops a sightly unhealthy obsession with the escapism he finds in performing as the monsters in his movies.

But upon discovering that the corrupt rich of Gotham plan to push legislation that would negatively effect farmers like his own history, and that they expected him to be amongst those who support it, his irritation with the shallowness of society reaches its limits. In day, he would feign support for their behavior to cover his tracks, but at night he would don the mask of the Scarecrow, rumored to be the vengeful spirit of a farmer who was hanged, and who he believes to be a more freeing expression of himself than his true face, targeting not just the rich but striking fear in their laborers to scare them off land. And it works. So, he tries bending the will of society more.

Is he doing this out of any moral conviction or just spite and a love for the role? It's... hard to say.

As the Scarecrow, his methods are so effective he's near uncatchable, even by Batman. Its only by solving the mystery of who is under the mask are they able to catch him. They surprise him during one of his screenings, jump him in the dark, and prove his subtle use of fear gas in the theater to the police once he's cornered. Instead of being angry, he goes to the mad house applauding Batman's performance.

What an interesting character they play. He's very inspired.

[allidrawscomics]

Remakes shouldn't be made by people who hate the originals.

Snow White isn't supposed to be a symbol of female empowerment.

She has no power. She's not trying to gain any. She's a whimsical little weirdo singing to birds and living her best life despite her shitty circumstances and the evil queen who has everything she could ever want hates her for the crime of existing. The story is highlighting the ugliness of vanity and envy and one-sided spite. The romance wasn't even about finding love, marriage was a symbol of security. That's why the prince's role didn't matter.

Disney has sucked for a while for a multitude of reasons but one that bothers me significantly is these stupid remakes being made not to showcase timeless themes to a changing culture, but to maintain the branding while sloppily trying to save face against bad faith criticisms. If you hate Snow White then don't make Snow White. Make a new thing. There are plenty of people in this day and age who could use a story about a spiteful old bastard in power picking on a harmless whimsical little weirdo only to finally piss of the weirdo's weird friends enough to get yeeted off a cliff.

[paulyenvol6]

Something To Cry Over

Dark!Joel x female!reader

Okay so it took me some time but here's finally part two and it's losely based on this request. Very dark and very angsty but I hope you're gonna like it. Enjoy :)

Part 1

Contains: smut, rape, non-con/dub-con, angst, trauma, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, crying, sort of dacryphilia, Joel getting off on reader's discomfort and pain, size kink, implied age gap (because of part 1 of this story), dirty talk, Joel appearing to be sort of gentle but still fucking reader without her consent, very dark themes, Joel referring to himself as daddy, pet names (honey, babygirl, angel), forced creampie,Joel ignoring reader, detailed description of fear and pain

Don't read if you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes!

Wordcount: 9,734

Masterlist

You were so much more aware of the chirping of the birds now.

And there was an obvious reasons, of course.

You didn't talk at all, your hands in your front pockets, your posture hunched over and your eyelids twitching whenever Joel made a sudden movement or even just cleared his throat.

At first, you had tried to hide how terrified you were of him, but what did it matter? Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing him how he had broken you? You believed that he wanted to see how miserable you were and figuring that you would be better off if he was content, you pretty quickly stopped fighting the urge to flinch when he abruptly turned around to you.

That night that was a surreal dream to you, a nightmare that haunted you every step you took and perhaps it was a reaction of your mind to process the trauma, but when you looked back – and you did, every minute and every hour of the day – you weren't the victim. You were a slient observer of the scene, forced to watch his evil crimes and every twitch and jolt of your body. You had to relive your sobs, the memory of his hand wrapping around your neck to cut off your air supply, but somehow it wasn't you in your memory. Not that it made things easier in any way.

You had hoped that to deal with the memory you would be able to forget it and stuff it in the most hidden corner of your brain but pictures appeared before you not only when you closed your eyes. It was with you all the time, making you cry out at the most inconvenient times but still, had there not been the aching pain between your thighs, you almost would have believed that Joel hadn't done it to you, but to another girl whose heartbreaking fate you had been forced to watch. Your brain seemed to refuse to accept the fact that you had been violated.

Joel on the other hand was exactly the way he was before. Grumpy, silent and sullen, but the only difference was that you didn't annoy him any more because you didn't raise your voice unless he specifically asked you to speak. In those moments your heart was racing, your eyes unable to look at his face and your insides clenching so hard, it knocked all of the air out of your lungs. You barely managed to bring out a word and if you did it was incomprehensable stuttering that Joel reacted to with a roll of his eyes or an annoyed sigh and in the end he always just picked up his speed leaving you - who was in tears at this point - a few feet behind. You hated everything and you were scared of everything.

Whereas you used to observe the beautiful nature around you with big eyes, in awe of the cold and clear water you used to enjoy dipping your toes in even when Joel had literally dragged you away from the river with the complaint that the two of you still had a lot of miles before you, you now bleakly and silently walked behind Joel, afraid to even just kick a stone with your feet.

What if he punished you again? What if he punished you for the slightest mistake, or even just for doing something he disliked for some strange reason? What if he pinned you down in the middle of the woods and abused your pussy like he did four nights ago, just to 'teach you a lesson'? Or what if he decided that wasn't enough this time and murdered you in cold blood? You simply couldn't risk angering him.

"Y/n."

You froze, your eyes springing wide open and your heart jumping at the rough sound of his voice. Everything about him was rough and hard, the substance of his words, his skin, the way his face had tensed up when he had looked at you that night.

You cringed in disgust when you felt a hand on your shoulder slightly tugging you backwards and it felt like each of his thick fingers was slicing into your flesh like shards of jagged steel.

"We're gonna make our camp here," he said watching your profile.

You nodded, your face turning pale at his proximity. Ever since that night he seemed to radiate something, a coldness or a danger that evoked the need to flee in you. Your feet wanted to carry your body away from him to safety where he couldn't find you, your muscles clenching in alarm and your nerves prickling with the urge to run away even though you had nowhere to go. It was a primal survival instinct because now that you knew what he was capable of, being alone with him in the woods felt like your worst nightmare.

"Okay," you breathed averting his gaze and then the tension in your body faded, your shoulders dropping and the air finally leaving your lungs when he turned around to start pitching the tent.

The nights were always the worst. Because in the dark, when you sought safety in the tiny excuse of a home you had found in your sleeping bag, you believed that the greatest danger was lying right next to you. Joel's assault had been four nights ago and since then you had never slept before midnight. Before his breath wasn't steady and his chest wasn't rising and falling evenly you didn't even consider allowing yourself to drift off to sleep. And even when you were absolutely sure that Joel was fast asleep, you still couldn't enter the world of dreams.

Perhaps part of you was afraid that what awaited you when you entered the land of dreams was so terrible that you preferred the silence of the tent, but your biggest fear was obviously that he might harm you in your sleep. The fact was that you were sleeping an estimated 3 hours a night and the effects were starting to show. You were miserable even though you probably also would have been without the sleep deprivation.

Every day you begged the sun to stay in the sky a little longer and not touch the horizon, because you knew what was coming. You would be faced with being so close to Joel again, his scent, that mixture of leather and wood and something that smelled of copper, so prominent in your nose that you would be reminded all over again of him on top of you, his face pressed against your cheek so that you had no choice but to inhale his odour. But the sun never complied and so you had to enter this tent night and night again just praying that Joel was too tired to even look at you.

And just like today you sat with your back pressed to the wall of the tent, your arms wrapped around your knees that were tucked against your torso.

Your eyes were timid and shy, flickering over him in fright of what he might do and your fingertips were restless, relentlessly picking or scratching over the hem of your hoodie. You had already eaten in silence, of course, and now it was time to go to bed but just like every night Joel read a little before trying to fall asleep and just like every night you refused to lay down before he hadn't closed his eyes.

In the first night after that day he had frowned, his eyes cold despite the way you had sobbed and he had put his book down a little.

'What are you doin'? You need sleep.' You had moved your head, a strange combination of nodding and shaking and then slightly crouched against the wall, but when you had done it again the night after, Joel had simply ignored it. The only problem was the cold that was always creeping up on you without the comforting sleeping bag and today was no difference. Goose bumps started to appear on your arms after a few minutes, and even though you hadn't taken your hoodie off for four days it wasn't much help against the cutting chilliness.

Your hold around your own body tightened, your chin resting on your arms while you counted the seconds. You had caught yourself doing that a lot in the past few days and somehow it had developped into a calming habit of yours that you did whenever your heatbeat was thudding in your ears a little too loudly.

The air in the tent was quiet and tense, the only sounds being your breaths and the chirping and growling of a few distant birds and other various animals whose company you would choose over Joel's any time but of course he wouldn't allow it.

Your eyes were on him at all times, almost like an eagle spying on its prey, except that you were in no position to pose a threat to him. The night after the assault you had weighed it in your head of course. Jumping on him in the night and wrapping your hands around his neck to squeeze until he was dead… Who could blame you for these thoughts? But you had never acted upon them, the fear of failing and having him punish you, or worse, kill you, being too great and maybe it made you weak or idiotic but you only played it out in your mind.

"Y/n."

No, no, no. He isn't supposed to talk to me.

Your breath hitched in your throat, a chill that certainly wasn't caused by the cold spreading across your back and your stomach painfully knotting as paralyzation came upon you. He was supposed to read in silence and ignore your eyes on him until he decided to sleep and then the next day would go exactly the same way.

This was… wrong and strange and it scared you.

"Y/n," he said a littler louder and the sound seemed to shoot through your body, gripping you from inside and making your face tense as your bent body turned away from him, your eyes squeezing shut like you expected a hit on your cheek.

"Jesus fuckin' christ…," you heard him mumble and the next thing you perceived was the rustling of his sleeping bag.

"N-No, please," you sobbed burying your face in your hands as you curled into a ball, the fear of his intentions making the world tilt beneath you.

"Lay the fuck down. Can't have you peering at me like that all the goddamn time. S'fuckin' annoying."

An uncomprimising hand reached for you and wrapped around your bicep and before you could even attempt to protest you were on your back, his hot breath lingering on your neck.

"N-No," you said again, a lot quieter and weaker now because your body and mind had turned numb. Your fingers curled into claws, ready to fight back and desperate to grasp at something to defend yourself, but it was more of an instinctiv reaction of your body because your mind was elsewhere.

It seemed to scream and race in neverending circles of panic and stress, fresh memories coming to the surface but they were only brief pictures and impressions of past moments. You couldn't think straight and soon you weren't even sure whether you were awake or not or even worse, if you were dead and this was what hell looked like. Raw fear made your fists repeatedly bump to the ground like you would hit Joel by chance but when his hands took hold of your wrists he was quick to press them against your stomach.

"Shhh," he made against your earlobe, the tears and wetness on your skin invisible to him in the dim light, but your whimpers and cries echoing against the tent walls.

Along with the howling of an owl nearby it was the only noise out here which almost made Joel think that it could attract infected or raiders so he pressed a hand on your mouth even though it only intensified your protests.

"S'okay. Calm yourself."

Of course his words had no effect on you and even if they had fought their way through your upset mind, perhaps they only were evidence that he was about to abuse you. You were captured in a panic-stricken haze, your body trembling and shivering with pure terror and it almost looked like you suspected that these were your last breaths. Joel found that he had no choice but to shut you up with cold-headed action so his grip on your mouth became more firm and he brought a hand to your back to turn you on your side and pull you to his chest.

You screamed, of course you did and to not have to look into your eyes that were round with alarm he rested his chin on your forehead waiting through your panic attack with closed eyes and a pounding heart. He counted and was at 478 when your body seemed to weaken.

Joel knew how terrible this was. He knew what he was putting you through right now, leaving you no choice but to face your greatest fears, but he was tired of your attitude, jerking away at every sudden step, or sitting in the tent like a goddamn statue made of marble while he tried to enjoy one of the few moments of peace during these hard days. And since nothing had seemed to change within you over the last three days he was going to try something different now.

"S'okay," he whispered against your hair, his hand on your mouth losening because the whines that now left your throat were quiet and croaked.

Perhaps a little part of him felt sorry and wanted to be gentle with you just for the purpose of feeling less mean but he wasn't sure. Maybe it was just him that seeked a little comfort by being close to another person's body.

His shirt was damp, soaked by your tears and other bodily fluids of yours but he had given you no choice but to leave them on his clothes. Your body was still moving, squirming whenever he drew a lazy circle over the small of your back but he considered the fact that you had quieted down a success although you might have just grown exhausted of fighting.

"No…," you whispered again, your clenched fists nestling underneath your chin.

"Yes. Just relax, alright? I got you."

"No," you said louder, jerking away, but he pressed his heavy palm into your spine, making it impossible for you to move an inch.

"I said relax. Don't you make a fuckin' scene now, little one."

Joel felt another wave of tears drenching his shirt but he waited patiently, his breath steady and heavy and his gaze ahead into space although he darted down at you every now and then to check if your crying was beginning to die down. When it eventually did, his right hand that wasn't resting on your back connected with your head, cradling it softly and his thumb trailing over your hairline.

"Just need ya to relax…," Joel murmured over and over again like a mantra hoping that his words would reach and move something in you.

He didn't even know what the fuck he was doing. If he was actually comforting you or making everything worse and what he even intended to do. He had initially pulled your body to rest here with him just because there had been a voice in his head telling him to, but now… he almost felt helpless.

So he just lay with his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings until he felt that you were relaxed.

"S'right…," he whispered, softly smirking when he watched you blink a few times like you had just woken from a dream.

He had drawn away a little to observe your face and now couldn't help himself and curled a strand of your hair around his finger letting it drop once your alerted eyes widened. You looked so pretty that his heart painfully contracted and fuck yes, he was an awful human being and completely fucked in the head but something about the way you looked so small and whiny only enhanced theses desires.

"Let me go," you sobbed, your head having dropped down the second he had drawn away from you and now your tears were spilling on his sleeping bag.

"No."

It was him who said that word this time, his face not even softening at your soul-tearing glistening droplets of tears.

"P-Please…"

Joel ignored you and instead focused on caressing the side of your head, applying enough pressure to soothe your scalp without risking any pain. For a moment you lashes fluttered, the muscles in your chin uncontrollably twitching, but after another whine that sounded like you were in discomfort you actually slightly relaxed in his arms. Although your lids trembled your eyes remained shut and apart from a quiet whimper every now and then you were still like a doll in his hold and Joel allowed himself to deeply inhale in relief.

"Good girl," his husky voice purred, examining you precisely but no reaction showed in your face.

There was no way of telling whether you had heard him, but at the same time you couldn't be asleep yet as your fingers were still tightly digging into the palms of your own hands.

Joel waited. Although his face was at peace looking almost as if he was about to allow himself to doze off his thoughts were racing. He gulped loudly to fight the lump in his throat and then his chest heaved as he took another deep breath.

"Open your eyes," Joel commanded, and they shot open instantly.

You truly looked like a terrified little puppy, he found, your eyes big and glossy and your lips forming a small pout. But those beautiful lips pressed together when he suddenly brought a hand to the side of your neck.

"You look pretty."

A twitch of your eyelids. Your eyes were swollen and red, sore from all your crying and now there was something tired in there as well. Good. Maybe you wouldn't be able to resist that much when you were on the verge of falling asleep. Your skin underneath your eyes was flushed as well and seeing traces of tears glistening in the dim light made him lean in to gently kiss it. You almost didn't react at all, the flinching and following shake of your head the only sign that you were comprehending what was happening around you.

"Please," you pleaded but had closed those pretty eyes again.

"I said open," Joel barked and pursed his lips once you did. "I will be gentle with you, babygirl. If you do as I say."

Your bottom lip was quivering and so Joel connected his thumb with it to soothe your frightened body. He rubbed it tenderly, making his nail lightly graze over your plump lip until the trembling died down.

"It's okay… I will be soft with you, little one… Just take what I give you and listen to me an' s'gonna be fine."

"Please, no," you quietly whispered, your voice so broken that Joel knew that your resistance wouldn't pose any difficulties.

"Yes. M'gonna make you feel good as well. How does that sound, babygirl?"

He moved in his sleeping bag, crawling closer to you until he could slide his arm around your waist.

"How about I'm gonna go down on you and have a taste of your perfect 'lil cunt until I have her beggin' for me?"

Your face dropped, a few silent sobs going past your lips but you didn't answer. You just lay stiff like a wooden plank feeling his fingers dig into the flesh of your waist through the fabric of your hoodie, his other hand still caressing and tracing your lips and chin like he wanted his touch to be carved into your face for all time. Joel watched you with one corner of his mouth curled until he drew back, his hands reaching for your face to cradle it.

"How 'bout we take this off? Give daddy a 'lil show?"

You choked on a cry and shook your head, sad eyes pleading for him to stop and spare you but he couldn't. He needed you right now and although he knew it wasn't fair fucking you although he had told you he was going to use sex as a punishment in the future and you truthfully hadn't done anything wrong in the past days he just couldn't crawl away from you now and leave you untouched. Every tendon and muscle was drawn to you, yearning to feel the softness of your skin underneath his touch and first and foremost it was his cock desiring to be snug in your perfect tight pussy again.

So Joel who actually still had something of a conscience, swallowed the slight sourness that had crept up in his throat over the last few minutes and continued, listening only to his body and its wants.

It was a fucked up world, where every day he woke up not knowing if there would be a tomorrow. Nothing was certain, nothing was safe so he might as well take what he wanted as long as he had the chance to. And you… he simply couldn't get enough of you. A sweet and delicate creature that looked so perfect beneath him. A beautiful sight in his ugly world and something that he was able to control while everything else in his life had slipped out of his hands over the past 20 years. He could keep you. Of course, there was still a chance that he would lose you as well, but if that happened, he would most likely be by your side and die as well, so it was better to keep you close.

Joel knew he was an asshole and that thought only worsened when he glided a hand under your hoodie to grope your breast, ignoring the way your body cringed and jerked away. Your flesh felt so soft under his rough skin, so silky and warm that it was almost unreal. He gently kneaded your breast hoping that your whimpers would fade in the wind once he had heated your body up and then brushed over your nipple with his thumb. Joel's breath came out in hitches as he rolled the sensitive bud between two fingers while his palm pressed down on the swell of your breast, his lips twitching while he almost drooled over your perfect soft body.

"You feel so goddamn good, babygirl. Shouldn't hide all of that from me, mhm? Should give me access to those tits all the fuckin' time, jesus…"

A muscle in your forehead twitched and you had your eyes clenched shut - perhaps in an attempt to block out the misery. But that wasn't what Joel wanted at all so he pinched your other nipple, evoking a beautiful long whine in you. Now he had your attention again and Joel seized the opportunity to lean in for a kiss on your lips even though you didn't move an inch and he devoured a stiff cold pair of lips.

After a second or two he pushed you back, applying additional pressure by bringing a hand to your shoulder until you lay on your back. Then he grabbed the hem of your hoodie, thanking god that you didn't wear anything else underneath and shoved it up your body disapprovingly grunting at the way your tiny hands scratched at his wrists. He wouldn't have guessed that you still had so much energy but of course despite your efforts there was nothing you could do to stop him. Your nails probably would leave a mark but he didn't mind the pain, pushing your sweater up until it was around your head and then taking it completely off. Your arms hadn't cooperated of course, your hands clinging to each other to make it impossible for him to undress you, but Joel had firmly squeezed your underarms and delivered a sharp smack across your chest that had made you howl in pain and he had used the moment of surprise to roughly shove it over your head.

"It's okay, honey," he then instantly comforted you, softly rubbing where he had hit you and watched your glistening tears that reflected the soft light radiated by an oil lamp in the corner. There was something beautiful and poetic about the little drops of tears and something that made his stomach coil so deliciously and although he would have to soothe you now and wait before he could proceed, he didn't regret his action for a single moment.

"You see what happens when you don't play by my rules? It doesn't have to hurt, little one… You don't have to put yourself through this if you just do as I say…"

Your torso was now bare on display for him and he shamelessly regarded every inch and every curve that he could reach with his eyes in the almost dark tent. The sensitive skin of your breasts had turned pink where his palm had come down hard to hit you and you shivered when Joel traced the mark of his hand.

"A shame that you're gettin' all angsty 'n' scared when I hit ya. 'Cause you're lookin' so goddamn pretty with my mark on you. You see?"

Your lashes fluttered and when you understood his words, your gaze dropped  to where his large hand was splayed out on top of your body.

"Take off your pants now. C'mon, show me that ya can do somethin' on your own."

Joel peeled his sleeping bag down his legs until he kicked it off with his feet while your hands fumbled with the waistband of your sweatpants. But before your shaky hands could even attempt to open the bow he was already done, watching your profile with lifted eyebrows.

"Need me to do it?"

Your franctic pupils dilated, almost doubling in size and when he saw goosebumps rising on your arms he connected his hand with your cheek, soft and gentle in contrast to the terrified look on your face. Joel's thumb lightly touched the corner of your mouth, his other hand gripping your waist and he remained in that position until your squirming stopped, a pair of wide, anxious eyes waiting for any danger or violence emanating from him.

"Relax. Everything's gonna be better if you relax."

He leaned towards you glancing past the way you flinched and then kissed your hairline, his stubby beard brushing against your forehead.

"I don't wanna hurt ya, baby. I wanna make you feel good tonight but I can't do that if you're all jumpy and resistant jerkin' away from me. Don't wanna drag ya back all the time. You understand me?"

He kissed his way down to your earlobe.

"I don't have all the patience in the world, angel. If you're not gonna be good I'll have to make you 'n' I think you ain't gonna like that."

Despite the harsh content of his words, his voice sounded soft. Way too soft, but the quietness seemed to have at least a small impact on you or perhaps it was just that he was so slow with you that you assumed he was letting you off the hook for tonight, because you took a deep breath and if Joel wasn't completely wrong you were trembling a little less now.

"Good girl," he praised and traveled with his hands to your waistband.

His fingers were much more certain and skilful than yours and within seconds he had opened your sweatpants and pulled them down your body until they stopped at your feet.

"Kick 'em off, will ya?"

While you obeyed his command Joel took off his shirt as the air in the tent had gotten hot and stuffy and he carelessly tossed it behind him. For a brief moment he thought about tying you up with it so he wouldn't have to bother with all of your kicking and writhing when he fucked you, but he chose not to. He intended to be soft with you tonight, yes, but he also didn't mind a little bit of a fight if need be.

You didn't wear any underwear which was more than convenient and so Joel had instant access to what he craved so badly. He hadn't tasted you yet but desired to change that as soon as possible, so he crawled to lay on top of you, his knees kicking your legs apart and his hands coming up to pin your arms down.

Big doe eyes looked up at him from under the lashes, making it even harder for Joel to breathe and he felt his cock grow to extreme proportions. The itchy fabric of his jeans brushed against your naked thighs as he parted them further and you had no choice but to spread them for him, his muscular legs preventing you from having control over what was happening to your own body.

"There she is…," Joel growled, clearly not bothering to hide how badly he wanted you.

"Is she still all sore from last time? Don't ya worry, daddy's gonna make it better. Gonna treat her so nicely she's gonna forget all about the pain…"

His eyes were fixed on your cunt while you nervously glanced at him, unsure whether what he was saying was a good sign. How were you supposed to trust any of his promises after he had caused you so much pain and trauma? What if he got off on comforting you being all sweet and caring before ripping you apart around his cock? What if this was just another twisted power play and he simply enjoyed watching the horror on your face, your whole body quivering while you had no choice but to take what he gave you?

But you had no more time for these thoughts because Joel had slid a hand between your legs rubbing tight circles on your inner thigh and then wandering up until he cupped your sex. Your lower lip protruded, your trembling chin a threatening sign that you were about to break down once more but Joel precautionarily had pushed two fingers of his other hand past your lips to give you something to concentrate on.

"Shhh…," he cooed, observing how your eyes sprang open in surprise but then softly smiling as he felt your lips enclose around his digits.

"That's it… Suck on 'em. Make 'em all wet and slippery with your mouth."

Your eyes followed him as he clenched his teeth, but then he felt you bite lightly on his fingers as he ran his index finger down your slit, stopping at your clit to press into it. He used the palm of his hand to push your chin down, forcing you to open your jaw as his nostrils fluttered, clearly struggling not to punish you with at least a light slap.

"None of that, babygirl, alright? Told you, you're gonna get a nice treatment if you're gonna be good."

You flexed your jaw in an attempt to fight his hand that was locked in your jaw, eager not to give in and give up control over another body part of yours. Tears were burning in your eyes, your whole body wriggling, but his hand was stronger and he kept your lips separated.

"C'mon… You're that fuckin' eager to anger me? Where's your thanks for me keepin' you safe all the time 'n' helpin' you whenever you get in trouble? You know that I could just leave you behind in this forest and then you'd be taken by raiders before you could make it a mile down the river and I promise you, babygirl, they would do things to you that would make you miss my touch."

Your face still radiated defiance and stubbornness but your jaw relaxed and Joel was able to place two fingers behind your lower teeth.

"There we go…," he whispered and then even gave you the faintest hint of a satisfied smile when your lips sucked around his digits.

In the meantime he had started to rub your clit in tight circles which made your hips shift and which Joel considered a good sign. He would break you, he was sure. He would break you on a different level than he had four nights ago because he wanted you to cum solely from his touch and then you really would be his alone.

"That feel good?" he asked and just like all the times before you didn't reply - not that you could - and just let him thrust his fingers past your lips but when he pulled them out you coughed, your tense hands curled in fists that were pressed to your body.

"Answer me," Joel barked and flicked your clit to the side which caused you to whimper.

"Y-Yes," you said, but it sounded more like a cry.

You were still upset about the fact that Joel had made you express your liking for an action performed by him that you definitely didn't want when he suddenly moved down your body in one swift motion until his mouth was dangerously close to your pussy. He was quick now, eager and untamed like a wild animal and if there had been anything previously holding him back it was gone now. His eyes looked black from his pupils being so dilated but at the same time they seemed to sparkle so brightly that had you not known better you would have assumed that he was on the verge of crying as well.

Joel's face was hovering over your pussy, proudly admiring the view as though he had created the glorious masterpiece and then lowering it to lick a strip from your hole up through your folds until the tip of his tongue tapped against your clit as lightly as a feather. He stopped you from closing your legs with two large hands gripping your thighs and pinning them down so that despite your writhing and struggling, you had no chance of getting out of this situation.

Where am I even supposed to go?

You softly whined at the thought but it was drowned out by Joel's heavy breathing along with the wet sound of his tongue twirling around your bundle of nerves.

You had no one. No one who cared about you enough to pick you up in the midst of this damned forest. No one to safe you from Joel's claws and take you somewhere safe. In fact, the only person you had thought might actually give a shit about you was lying on top of you right now and was abusing your body because he happened to have found a liking in you or got off on your distaste for his touch. Or whatever fucked-up thing was going on in his head, it didn't matter at the end of the day. You just hoped that he would cum as quickly as possible, be satisfied and then leave you alone at night for the next few days.

Joel now ravenously licked your clit, sucking it into his mouth every now and then and in the way your breathing became louder he was soon to realise that you began to enjoy what he was doing. At least he hoped so. You fought it, of course you did. You seemingly refused to let show that his touch could have anything sensual or even pleasant about it but it became undeniable when you fingers pressed into your palms with more force, your knuckles turning white and your hips moving slightly to create more friction. You were beginning to like it and it only motivated Joel further.

"Stop Joel. Stop, please, I… Please. I don't…"

Sensing that your body reacted to the play of his tongue you panicked and your priority was to push him off you, curl up in your sleeping bag and close your eyes until you could no longer hear, feel or smell him. You couldn't like it. Your body couldn't heat up at the flick of his tongue against your clit and you most certainly couldn't feel the need to moan for him.

"It's okay, babygirl," he whispered, running a hand over your bare thigh until it came to a stop at the top of it. "I know you enjoy it and you can. Just close you eyes 'n' take a deep breath for me."

"No. No, Joel, I can't – I, please – you need to – " Your pleas were silenced when the hand on your thigh suddenly moved to your mouth and he muffled you again with two fingers.

"It's okay. It's okay to like, there ain't no reason to panic. Daddy's gonna make you feel very good and I promise you you're gonna be very happy once I'm done with ya."

You moaned something incomprehensable before Joel slowly, as if to test whether you would freak out again, removed his hand.

"C'mon now. Wanna hear you moan for me, I know you want to."

Lips tightly pressed, you cried out, but clearly tried your best not to make a lot of noise, instead narrowed your eyes as if that was a way to escape this situation. Joel moved his thumb to your clit, running it over the underside of the sensitive little nub so his tongue was free to explore more of your pulsating pussy. You were undeniably wet by now, his mouth able to taste your arousal on his tongue as his nose was able to smell it.

And you tasted godly. Heavenly. Even more perfect than he had imagined in his head. If he could he would taste you for breakfast and lunch and dinner every day until he would get tired of it which surely would never happen. And then there was your soft and flushed skin that Joel simply couldn't get enough of as he soothingly caressed your thighs only to reach up to cup your breasts every now and again. Your nipples felt harder every time so of course you were enjoying this. He rolled one bud between his thumb and index finger which made you gasp, your hands desperately curling and then uncurling which Joel was quick to notice.

"Ya can grab my hair, angel. Can hold on to it."

You didn't react which didn't surprise him. Instead he solely focused on your beautiful little pussy which he couldn't believe was real. You were warm and soft, your juices sticky and sweet and Joel had to slurp it all up. He produced obscene sounds that uncomfortably rang in your ears because it was brutal evidence of the wetness pooling between your legs.

"You taste so goddamn good, honey, fuck…"

Joel could clearly see and feel your struggles in the way you jerked away, yet at the same time, your hips occasionally buckled to create more pressure - and then there were your eyes, glistening with fear, as you failed to understand what was happening to you or your body. Your mind refused and resisted but your body craved something else that only Joel could give you. And this disconnect drove you insane, as evidenced by the fact that you were unable to put a coherent sentence together, instead mumbling and stuttering mindless words that Joel had to make sense of in his head.

"Joel. I – fuck, I… I can't do this please…"

"You can, babygirl. You're doin' so well right now an' if you only let me I'll make you feel so good you're never gonna want me to stop."

You suddenly shrieked feeling pressure on your hole and it took your mushy mind a second to understand what was happening. Joel was easing two of his thick and long fingers into your quivering pussy and once he was inside just with the tips you already squealed, arching underneath him. He sensed that you were still sore, your bruised walls rejecting the intrusion but he ignored you. If he actually intended to make you feel good it would be much less painful if he started by scissoring you open and making you adjust to his fingers instead of entering you with his thick cock without a lot of preparation.

To distract you from the ache he kept his mouth on your clit, kissing and devouring it like a lover would and soon your skin underneath his left hand seemed to burn and buzz with pleasure. You were enjoying it and Joel triumphantly pressed a tender kiss to your pearl like he wanted to reward you.

"Good fuckin' girl," he growled peeking up your body like a predator, his heart pounding in his chest at the way you were writhing, your body bending with both pleasure and pain but his own body too strong to allow you to move more than in inch.

It was an animalistic and primal pride, the knowledge that he could manhandle you however he pleased, whether it was pinning you down or forcing you to your knees. You were in his grasp, you were his. You were so much smaller, so soft and delicate and Joel savoured this imbalance. He savoured the way his strong arms caged your body beneath his, keeping you down with a single hand splayed across your belly and his hand large enough to grab both of your wrists and pin them down over your head. And there was nothing you were able to do about it and he knew how fucked up this was, how much he would probably suffer in hell for it, but he liked that thought. The thought that he was able to feast from you, take as much as he wanted to with you fighting and resisting but eventually losing to his strength.

"I want ya to cum for me. All over my face."

Another shake of your head. Quiet 'no's left your mouth, your body already twitching but you were yet to give in and let pleasure wash over you.

"Don't worry, hon. Don't worry, c'mon…," he purred, grabbing your hands and allowing you to wrap them around his big fingers which you took advantage of. He felt as though he might burst at the sight of your whole hand holding on to his thumb, the size difference driving him to the brink of madness, but he pulled himself together, his main goal being to make you cum for him.

"Just let go… I got you and I promise you it's gonna be worth it. Just trust me an' let go… I know you want to, babygirl… I know it aches so bad and you just wanna feel better and you will, I promise."

You cried out again, Joel almost fearing to have lost you now, but then your thighs started to tremble, your back arched off the ground and you tightened your grip around his thumb. Croaked moans and sobs left your mouth, probably tears of joy mixed with real ones, and then you inhaled deeply as you collapsed onto your back.

"That's it… Jesus fuckin' christ, that's it… That's a good girl… Mhm yes… you liked that?"

He didn't mind the fact that you were too fucked out to answer him because he was self-satisfied enough. Joel drew back his two fingers that had served their purpose to open you up and licked them clean before doing the same to your cunt. He let his tongue swirl around your throbbing and swollen clit, eliciting a long moan from you, but like every other moment tonight he ignored your complaints with the conviction that he knew what was good for you.

Joel almost felt regretful once he was done devouring every last droplet of your sweet juices on his tongue and made a mental note to himself to eat you out every morning from now on. And you would surely grow to like it. Even if your mind hated it and wished he would die, you had just orgasmed so your body was in fact able to cooperate with him.

He grinned to himself while pressing one last goodbye kiss to your clit, gently stroking your thigh at the way you wriggled, and then crawled up to you, one knee keeping your legs open and a hand pushing you back by your shoulder. He took his time observing your face, smirking at the flush in your cheeks, a small part of him mourning the remains of your tears and brushing with his hand over your chin where a drop of saliva had run down your skin.

"Oh my sweet girl…," Joel cooed softer than you had ever heard him and then slightly tilted your head as if he was actually examining you.

"You're perfect, ya know that? And you just shown me what a good 'lil girl you can be for me. Think ya can do that again?"

Your pupils hectically danced over his face, unable to make out his expression in the dim light so it was panic that you felt, making the blood in your veins freeze. His firm grip on you became more determined before you could even attempt to shake your head.

"I know ya can do it. You're not as hard and tough as you act, mhm? I know you just wanna feel good and trust me, angel, I'mma help you. Know you just need your daddy to take care of you 'n' I will."

His voice was quiet but deep against your brow, his Texan accent even more showing now that he was turned on. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple and then groped your breasts, kneading them tenderly and if you hadn't been so aware of his presence you would have been incapable of believing that those were Joel Miller's rough and carved hands.

"You're mine, baby and I protect what's mine. I'm gonna keep you safe from whoever might wanna harm you, I promise. You're my little flower and you're gonna be protected and taken care of."

He mouthed 'mine' once more, his jaw clenched and his face almost drawn with anger and then reached down to his belt which also marked the moment when you officially gave up.

Joel noticed it a little later, specifically when he freed his thick cock and ran the tip through your folds, teasingly rubbing against your clit and hole and frowning in surprise when he realised that you didn't react at all.

"Take a few deep breaths with me, alright love? You're just gonna relax and focus on your breathing an' focus on me… Keep your eyes on me and just loosen up. It's okay, I got ya."

The muscles in your chin twitched, the quiet evidence of your fear only showing in your eyes and their infinite depth but you actually opened your mouth to let some careful shaky breaths in.

"Yeah, there you go, sweetheart… Knew you can listen just nicely… Now relax. Relax your hips 'n' stomach so I can fuck you nicely and it won't hurt no more, mhm? S'what you want too, babygirl."

He trailed a hand down your side resting on your hip to squeeze gently, the amount of pressure just enough to remind you to listen to his voice. And then Joel felt you relax underneath his hand, your chest heaving steadily and your abdominal muscles soft and slackened.

"Good girl, yeah… Now daddy can take you real nice."

He circled your entrance with the fat tip of his dick, whispering sweet words of praise in your ear so you remained calm and then entered you when he felt that it was the right moment. Obviously your hips buckled at the discomfort because despite the wetness and you being relatively at ease, he was still incredibly thick and your walls hadn't entirely recovered from the rough treatment four nights ago yet. Joel was patient and sweet with you, giving you as much time to adjust as you needed while running his hand through your hair.

"You took it all, babygirl," he hummed, his voice thick with restrain and primal lust. "You see? And it's gonna be better soon, just breathe f'me. One breath after the other… Just don't fight it, s'only gonna get worse if you do. Just lay still and focus on me… 'Cause I'm here to take care of my sweet girl."

You coughed and then inhaled deeply like you had just been about to drown. Joel exhaled seeing the cold sweat that had broken across your forehead, your shivering hands clasping his bicep and your eyebrows drawing together, but he was ready to take his time with you. This was what he wanted after all. Rewarding you, helping you and taking care of you to show you what it meant to be his.

"Listen to my voice. It's alright, baby. I'm right here…"

"Hurts," you managed to choke out and shifted your hips in discomfort, bruises from four nights ago that you had completely forgotten about aching now that his massive length was snug inside you pressing against and stretching your walls so intensely that it knocked the air out of your lungs.

"I know… I know. But we'll move when you're ready. Ugh uhm. Look at me, angel. S'gonna be better that way."

He cupped your chin until you opened your eyes, rewarding you with a kiss on your nose as your half-litted eyes caught sight of his frame.

"Atta girl… Breathe for me… Slow and steady…"

You found that you had no choice but to obey and so despite your racing heart and the fact that you felt that the pain only worsened whenever you let your muscles unwind, you listened to his voice that was so quiet and soft but so commanding and dominant at the same time.

"Yes," you whimpered which earned you a smile from Joel and then you lay still with your trembling body being the only proof of your discomfort until he connected his large hand with your cheek again, running his gaze up and down your frightened face.

"How does it feel, mhm?"

"S'better," you truthfully answered because you believed the pulsating pressure you felt in your lower belly was the only thing left from the aggressive sorrow.

"Good. So daddy's gonna fuck you now but I'm gonna go nice 'n' slow and take my time while you just keep still and let me fill ya. How does that sound?"

You slightly nodded, but dropped your gaze to where your bodies were connected.

"Lemme hear your sweet voice, c'mon."

"Yes. Okay."

Your voice was soft and cautious, like a rabbit carefully approaching a wolf to see if he would pose a threat.

Joel propped himself on his left elbow that was resting next to your head while his other hand was busy brushing over your hip bone and drawing random patterns into your flesh with his thumb. Then he slowly pulled back, watching your face contort with his mouth agape, cursing as he thrust back into you, filling you to the brim.

"Fuckin' christ… See how goddamn well you're takin' me?"

You had sucked your bottom lip into your mouth to bite down on something and perhaps surpress a cry, but you nodded again which was enough for Joel to start fucking you at a steady pace. He didn't go fast but deep, making you feel every thrust so intensely that you dumbly stared up to him, stunned with the way you seemed to feel him with every fibre and nerve of your body.

He checked on you every few moments, touching your cheek to remind you to give him your tired eyes and whispering sweet nothings in your ear that you could only respond to with a shake or nod of your head. Joel, on the other side was as vocal as he had been the first time only that this time he didn't degrade you. No, had you not been so weak and drowsy you would have found that this was a different human being. He was an asshole and you hated him so much that fire burned in your lungs, but you couldn't deny that he was good at this stuff. Talking to you like he actually cared about you or promising you things that he wouldn't keep.

Taking care of you? Was this taking care of you? Fucking you and doing things to your body that you didn't want? Using you for his liking and being completely ignorant about your wishes? You hated him so much that you wanted to bite down hard on his shoulder, but you were too weak anyway, the rolling of his hips draining every ounce of strength from you.

Also, your brain was dizzy and mushy, thoughts lingering behind your forehead that you just weren't able to catch and so you moaned in frustration. The next thing you felt more clearly than anything else was new friction against your clit. Joel's hand that had rested on your hip had glided between your legs once more and he had started to roll your clit back and forth under his fingertip. You wanted to close your legs at the overstimulation but his hips hindered you and you had no choice but to lay flat while he did with you the way he desired to.

Growing closer to his orgasm Joel picked up the speed a little, panting loudly and feeling drops of sweat trickle down from his forehead onto you and soon his movement on your clit became sloppy and lazy just like the thrusts in your pussy.

"I need ya to cum again. Need to feel you clench around me, angel. C'mon, cum for daddy again. Give it to daddy…"

He went deep, his balls slapping against your cunt with every plunge which created sinful noises and then he actually managed to make you fall apart a second time tonight. A high squeak left your dry throat, your whole body curling and bending and your arms coming up to squeeze his shoulders.

"Joel. Fuck, I… Oh my god, I…"

Your eyes and mouth were open as you stared up to the ceiling of the tent as though the reason for this most divine kind of pleasure could be found there, but in truth the real reason was lying on top of you right now, wheezing like these were his last breaths and then growling like an animal as his cum filled you up.

"Oh fucking hell, god… Ughhh fuck…"

Joel had collapsed on top of you and now made no attempt to be careful with you, pressing you down with all his body weight.

"Jesus…," he moaned and you felt his hot breath lingering at your chin.

You had your eyes closed because at this point you were too exhausted to make any kind of effort and you were sure you couldn't open them even if Joel would tell you to, but fortuntately he was way too powerless to command you anything. You could hear his heavy breathing and feel his loud, fast heartbeat slowing down over the next few minutes. Only once he was calm again did he roll off you, took his side to your left and crawled into his sleeping bag to warm up his body that had gotten cold after this intense high. Joel deeply sighed, glancing at you once he was comfortable and smirking at your small adorable frame.

"You good, babygirl?" he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek as you didn't answer him.

He traced your cheekbone for a while before asking you again and this time your eyelids fluttered and a hum went past your parted lips.

"You're tired, sweetheart? Need some rest?"

Of course these questions wouldn't have been necessary but Joel wanted at least a slight reaction or a sign that you heard him before he let you sleep - just to make sure that he hadn't gone too far with you.

Your head moved and so did your lips, twitching like you wanted to express something that you couldn't make your mouth say.

"Yeah," you eventually whispered and curled yourself into a ball to protect yourself from the cold that was creeping up on your arms leaving a trace of goosebumps behind, but then Joel grabbed the sleeping bag that you were resting on, pulled it from under you and then pushed your feet in with gentle hands. He slid his hands behind your back, coaxing you to slip the bag underneath your body and then moving it up until your whole frame was covered and protected against the cold and dark and everything else that could pose a possible danger. Well, actually, the protection was Joel himself, who made sure that you were completely tucked in, with your chin resting on the fabric of the sleeping bag, and then proceeded to cover himself again as well.

Once he had settled next to you, comfortably lying on his side so the two of you were facing each other, he noticed that you were asleep so Joel planned on doing the same. He just had to feel your soft skin one last time and so he reached for you, stroked a few strands of hair behind your ear that hung in your face and then pressed his lips to your forehead, a silent and simple, yet very telling sign that he would keep you safe, come what may.

Joel's guilty conscience visited him again at the sight of your beautiful face, marked by the terrible things you had been through tonight.

Your tear-stained cheeks, your swollen nose and eyes and your bottom lip that you had bitten bloody and he didn't even want to start with the bruise he surely had left on your chest from his single slap and the one caused by his firm grip on your hip.

Joel exhaled, air that wasn't as fresh as he'd wanted it to be filling his lungs, but it did the job.

He closed his eyes, tired now too, but as he drifted off to sleep, both of your breaths in sync, he gritted his teeth, savouring your beautiful silence because perhaps it was the only thing he still owned in this broken world.

[mckinlily]

Imagine a world where Bruce Wayne did not become Batman. Instead, he is just a Normal Dude. Or as normal as a billionaire deeply dedicated philanthropy in a city as insane as Gotham can be.

Because make no mistake: just because Bruce is not Batman does not mean Gotham is not Gotham.

There are a few new players though—on the Rogues side.

Timothy Drake is the teen business tycoon of Drake Industries. Absent of the inspiration of Batman and the socialization and warmth of Dick Grayson, he is ruthless and logical to a fault in pursuit of his goals and just as viciously chaotic as the disaster little brother Jason knows.

In other words, he’s Gotham’s youngest supervillian. The only good news is his chosen nemesis is Lex Luthor. Maybe. Timothy doesn’t care much about collateral damage. It’s not his goal to harm civilians, but he certainly doesn’t include their safety as a priority in his convoluted schemes to mess with Luthor.

Talon is an undead murderer who slaughtered a huge swath the Gotham’s 1% five years ago and, despite being spotted many times since, has never been apprehended. He appears when he wants and disappears just as readily, and Gotham just has to accept there’s a killer stalking their streets and there’s nothing they can do about it. Sometimes Talon has been known to rescue people, especially, but it’s never clear how or why exactly Talon chooses who is victim verses aggressor. And the end is always brutal and bloody for those Talon deems aggressor.

Damian is still Bruce’s biological son and raised by Talia in the League of Assassins. But when he was left in Gotham and met his father, this Bruce was so baffled and thrown by a child assassin that Damian immediately takes as rejection and runs away. (He doesn’t even stay long enough for Bruce to be sure it wasn’t a hallucination or very strange dream).

Damian is almost immediately found and adopted by Talon, so now Gotham has TWO bird-themed killers liable to jump down on you from nowhere and for any reason.

Oh, and god help you if you so much as make Talon’s baby Owlet sad. If you’re lucky, it will be the last thing you do.

Barbara is an ordinary librarian…who can be hired as a mercenary hacker for the right price. The public isn’t afraid of her because they don’t know she exists. More than one politician or public figure has been ruined because of the blackmail she unearthed on them. But what side exactly is the police commissioner’s daughter on? And how much of Gotham does she have under thumb?

(Is she a secret ally and accessory to Timothy Drake’s many plots?)

Steph, thank god, is actually NOT a villain, super or otherwise. She’s the one vigilante attempting to help Gotham. Spoiler has connections among some of the caped community like Supergirl or Wonder Girl. But without Bat training or the police cooperation forged years ago by Batman, she’s mostly just striving to survive while taking on Gotham’s many, many gang. Make no mistake, she’s impressive. But desperate. Spoiler comes with guns and explosions. So. Many. Explosions. Gotham has never heard of the “no kill” rule. And likely never will.

(Cass also lives in Gotham. But no one will ever see her or even know she’s there.)

Jason….well. Baby Jason never stole any Batmobile tires and never was adopted by a strange but kind billionaire. He was never killed at 15.

He died in the winter before he turned 13.

And then one day, Adult Canon Jason gets thrown into this dimension. And somehow Gothan is WORSE?! How is that even possible? Also his siblings are running around being super villains and killing people? Bruce! Control your children!!

But this Bruce does not have children (he’s still mostly convinced Damian was a prank or hallucination). He is horrified by the idea of children fighting crime. He has absolutely no idea how to handle exceptionally talented chaos machines with too much passion and no sense of self preservation. And he’s frankly a little disturbed by Jason himself and his guns and refusal to “work within the system” and Jason nopes out of there so freaking fast.

Jason also, slowly, has to become okay with the realization that his siblings are not insane because they were made Robin. They became Robin because they were already insane. There was no way to create a normal human being out of any of them.

(Jason does not want to look too closely at what that says about him.)

In the end, Jason teams up with Steph. He connects her with Dick/Talon, who is more than happy to have a new Owlet to train and preen, and Damian only slightly stabs her. They manage to persuade/threaten Tim into caring enough to help get Jason back to his dimension with misuse of Drake Industry research equipment. Damian very much does stab Tim. Tim retaliates by locking Damian in an industrial freezer. Dick thinks they’re bonding. Jason introduces them to Babs, but frankly he has no idea what he’s hoping to achieve from this. Probably nothing good because Dick, despite being an under-socialized undead assassin with some weird mannerisms and ways of speaking, still manages to pull a woman way out his league like Barbie. And Babs seems to have no problem with the “murder” part that description.

Jason never realized how much Bruce’s strict moral code and “the Mission” were key to the rest of them becoming remotely positive influences in society. Or how little Bruce has to do with his siblings getting into dangerous, violent situation. He doesn’t like anything about it.

They work out how send Jason back, and he returns to his dimension with the feeling he’s just left Alternate Gotham to a gang of supervillains.

…at least they’re together?

And Talon Dick won’t let any of his new Owlets die and will rain bloody vengeance on anyone who tries. So that’s good. For them at least.

(Jason feels absurdly like he should be apologizing to this universe’s Bruce. Or. Someone. He doesn’t. But he feels like he should.)

Back at in his dimension and at the Batcave, Jason pauses and just stares at Batman for a very, very long time. Finally, he takes a deep breath and solemnly nods just once before taking off into the Manor for Alfred’s cookies.

Bruce has no idea what the fuck just happened.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Any Ao3 recommendations?

1. The curse of sight by PorcelanaRota

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a Bat.

Status: WIP multi-chapter

2. Gotham's finest by aggiepuff

Summary: When Dash Baxter put in for a transfer to Gotham CityPD all his fellow officers thought he was crazy. Dash didn't bother trying to explain how boring Metropolis was.

Status: Complete. One shot

3.Alfred and the Tiny Attic Squatters by Shynnohwen

Summary: Alfred discovers four tiny squatters hiding in the attic and spends a number of days coaxing them out while keeping Bruce and the rest of the family from imploding after they discover that Damian is not his only child.

It only gets more chaotic when they discover other relations and that the children may be involved in many of the unexplained events going on around Gotham.

Jazz just wants to punch Clockwork in the throat for de-aging them and dropping them in a alternate dimension where she is getting targeted by a combat furry crime boss and his bird-themed minions, several of who seemed to have developed a obsession with her that is giving her strong Vlad vibes.

Status: WIP milti-chapter

[jellesreid]

When the Music Fades

In which Autistic Spencer Reid and Neurodivergent Reader go to a Easter Party hosted by Penelope Garcia and end up having to share a bed at the end of the night where Spencer confesses his feelings. (Fluff!)

masterlist

word count: 3.6k

tags: one bed trope, fake relationship/ fake boyfriend trope for a minute, autistic spencer reid, neurodivergent reader, anxiety, overwhelmed, easter, party, mentions of jelle, mentions of morcia, spring, dealing with mental health, love confession, first kiss, sharing clothes. Mentions of Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi.

No warnings

notes: This fic is a request from @dearreidr I hope you enjoy this! If you have any requests feel free to leave them below or dm me!

—————————︎🩵————————-

For easter Penelope was hosting a party at her apartment. She did this for every holiday and just like every other party she had to practically beg Spencer to attend. He was shy and didn’t like drinking and something about Penelope’s parties was that there were always multiple people just as full of colour as she was which was slightly overwhelming and there was always a themed punch with way too much alcohol mixed together. 

This was the first party that you were attending, for the last one, the Christmas party, you were only two weeks into working at the BAU and felt awkward turning up at Penelope’s place for a party when you barely knew anyone. But now, just over 4 months in, you have made friends and connections with the rest of the team. You were particularly close with Penelope, Spencer and Elle. The four of you hung out often outside of work if Penelope wasn’t with Derek, Elle wasn’t with JJ and if Spencer actually left the comfort of his apartment, although you didn’t mind going over to Spencer’s and spending time in his dimly lit living room with a book each just enjoying the quiet and each others company.

The day before the party they had been called in for a case luckily it was nearby and the police department already had a lead. You, Spencer, Elle and Hotch were in one of the SUVs heading to the crime scene when Elle brought up the party. 

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Elle directed toward you.

You shrugged, “I haven’t thought about it, Penelope said something about costumes but I don’t have anything easter themed.”

“Oh don’t worry about that just pick out a pretty dress and be yourself. What about you Spence?” 

“I wasn’t going to go.”

“What? Penelope said she convinced you!” Elle spun around in the passenger seat to see you and Spencer in the back of the car.

“I’m just not feeling it,” Spencer shrugged it off.

You frowned and faced Spencer, “Please come, I don’t know what I’d do without you there. It’s my first Penelope Garcia party.” If Spencer wasn’t going you didn’t want to go either, you liked everyone else but you felt most comfortable with Spencer not to mention your small crush on him. 

“It’s just awkward, I'm not fun, it’s overwhelming and I don’t drink; that's the whole point of a party.”

“Not to me, it’s just a chance for us to hang out. I won’t drink and the minute we both get overwhelmed we can remove ourselves for a little while. Please?”

Spencer sighed, “I suppose so, you promise right? About the overwhelming thing, not drinking you can drink if you want to I am not going to stop you.”

“I don’t want to I just want to spend time with you, I promise.”

Elle smirked at the both of you, “Alright love birds. That didn’t take much persuading did it?” 

Spencer’s cheeks flushed red as he shrugged and turned to look out of the window so he was no longer a part of the conversation.

—--------------

You threw on one of the nicest dresses you could find in your closet since you don't own many but you wanted to look nice for Penelope’s party along with a pair of white kitten heels and a white bunny ears headband you figured that would be good enough for the costume requirement, it wasn't like you were expected to show up dressed as an easter egg right? 

Anxiety was already filling your chest with the fear of not knowing what to expect and knowing if Spencer didn’t usually like these parties there was a big chance that you wouldn't like it either. 

While you were adding a small amount of pink lip gloss to your lips to go with the small amount of subtle makeup on your face you had one message from Penelope and one message from Spencer come through on your phone.

“You’re staying the night. Bring PJs and snacks and whatever else you need! Maybe a blanket too if not I've got some. See you soon, Kisses XX” -Penelope.

And,

“Hi, I suppose you received a message from Penelope about a sleepover… Are you planning on staying?”

“Would you like me to pick you up? You do not live too far and I don’t mind driving.” - Spencer Reid

You giggled at Spencer signing his message off with his full name but then more nerves overtook you, Penelope’s message didn’t reveal who was staying, what time everyone was leaving in the morning, where you would be sleeping, if there would be breakfast, if you were going to have to stay in groups because surely she didn’t have enough beds for everyone. You caught yourself just before you bit off your nails that you had been growing and doing a good job of so far considering nail-biting was something you did unconsciously when you were anxious or stressed. 

You typed a reply back to Spencer, “Um, I suppose we don’t have a choice really so I guess I am. I would appreciate you picking me up if you really don’t mind thank you. And you don’t have to sign your name Spence, I have you saved.”

You weren't expecting him to reply again, you knew he would check the message and register it but it was unlikely he would reply however this time you were wrong he did reply.

“How are you feeling? I can come sooner if you need to talk about anything?”

You smiled, you had never told Spencer that you necessarily struggled with feeling anxious and overwhelmed but you assumed he had picked up on it due to him being autistic and feeling similar things about similar situations as you did and also with his IQ of 187. 

Y/N: “I'm a little anxious about what to expect but I’m okay, Please just turn up when you are ready. How are you feeling?”

Spencer: “The same as you. I know what to expect though. Do you want a run-through?”

Y/N: “That would be great, thank you.”

Spencer: “Usually, she plays pop music, so I have been told, I think JJ mentioned Taylor Swift. It’s quite loud and the colourful lights are not a great help when It comes to not being overwhelmed but there’s a small green space outside her apartment. It's nice to sit there or in one of the bedrooms when it is getting too much. She had a wide selection of finger foods, there’s a good selection for everyone there will definitely be something you like. There will be unfamiliar faces, she has a lot of friends most with bubbly personalities like hers but they leave at around midnight sometimes even before if there’s a club open.”

Y/N: “Thank you.”

Spencer picked you up at quarter to 9, as he walked to your door he wiped his palms against his brown slacks, he was nervous about the party but in all honestly, he was more nervous to see you. Derek had been telling him for a while now to make a move because he could tell you felt the same way but Spencer would never believe that, what would someone like you see in someone like him? Yes, you had similarities but he was different and you were gorgeous there were definitely prettier men than him out there.

 

He knocked twice on the door, the knock had a certain rhythm that you used when you knocked on his door, he didn't know if it was a signal that you were at his door or if it was just something you did unconsciously like biting your nails. 

You opened the door and stepped back to give a little distance between the two of you, it wasn’t because you didn’t want to be close to him because of course you did he was your favourite person, it was because you didn’t like the feel of people breathing on you for a little while after you had surrounded yourself with people. 

His mouth opened as his eyes ran up and down you, his cheeks also blushed at the same time. You couldn't help a little giggle that escaped your lips, “Hi Spence, You look nice.”

“Hi. You look… beautiful… gorgeous um really nice?” Spencer switched between words not knowing which one would sound best for someone he liked but didn’t want to reveal that he liked you in that way, but he also wanted to make you feel good about yourself because you deserved that and he never wanted you to doubt that you didn’t look good. 

“Thank you,” You grabbed your bag from the small table beside the front door. “Oh Penelope said about snacks and a blanket but I don’t want to take mine off my bed,” You bit your lip.

“She has so many snacks she won’t realise that you didn’t bring any. I didn’t either and she has blankets too.”

You nodded, “Okay, should we go?”

“Yes,” Spencer looked to the left down the hallway before turning back to you and whispering, “Someone is watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, “Probably Steven, he lives on the other end of the floor. He waits for me and Storm, my neighbour, to leave the apartment so he can ask us on dates, he’s a little creepy.”

“Can I hold your hand?” Spencer asked.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Why? I mean yes but why?”

“So he thinks I’m your boyfriend then he will leave you alone.”

“Oh,” You put your hand out allowing him to take it and thanking him before the thoughts started circulating in your brain. Spencer didn’t hold people’s hands, he didn’t like the amount of germs that could be transferred between people holding hands. But he would hold yours?

You locked your apartment with your free hand, your other hand still occupied by Spencer’s warm large hand. You could feel Steven approaching. 

“Hey man, is something wrong?” Spencer asked as he walked over.

“Who are you? Why are you bothering her?” Steven squinted at Spencer.

“He’s not bothering me, Spencer is my boyfriend,” You smiled with a small blush.

“But I’m your boyfriend?” Steven said.

“No, we talked about this, we just live on the same floor Steven, plus you’re a lot older than me.”

“Where are you going? You look nice.”

“We are going out for dinner,” Spencer said, moving his hand from yours to circle around your lower back and rest on your hip, which he regretted when he realised he hadn’t asked for permission to do that. Once Steven nodded and returned to his apartment and you along with Spencer entered the elevator he immediately apologised.

“You have nothing to apologise for, you were helping me out and it felt nice,” You subtly tried to flirt with him. 

“Really?” He asked, opening the car door for you.

“Really,” You smiled getting into the car.

—-----------------

As you both approached the door to Penelope’s apartment the booming music could already be heard. Before he opened the door for you he offered a warm, comforting smile which you returned to signal you were ready to go in if he was. He pushed open the door and immediately you were met with an obscene amount of colourful fairy lights, a disco ball, the even louder music but luckily only around 15 people which was a lot for a small apartment but you could work with that considering most of them probably wouldn’t talk to you anyway.

“Are you okay?” Spencer checked in with you.

You felt a little bad he had his own problems with overwhelming things and adding the worry of if you were okay was probably going to be too much for him and you didn’t want to be the reason why he felt uncomfortable or stressed, “Yes thank you, Spence. Are you okay?”

Spencer nodded, “For now.”

Penelope was the first to come over to the both of you yelling over the music in her usual joyful tone but with added giggles as she had already been drinking, “Finally, I thought you guys had ditched us. Elle and JJ are on the sofa, Emily is getting more punch, Derek is dancing with me obviously and well you have eyes you can find everyone. Make yourselves at home.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Duh! You're one of my favourites of course you were going to be invited, don’t tell the others though. That goes for you too Smartie Pants don’t tell anyone she’s my favourite,” Penelope rambled.

“Of course, she’s my favourite too,” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“Enough flattery. I’m going to get a drink if that’s okay?” You directed toward Penelope.

“Yes Doll, help yourself. Mi casa es tu casa,” Penelope replied in a very dodgy Spanish accent before returning to her makeshift dance floor.

You made your way through to the next room only having to weave through a few people before reaching the kitchen when you realised Spencer had followed you there, “Would you like something?”

“No, I’m good thank you, Um I don’t want to leave you but will you be okay if speak to Hotch for a bit?” Spencer asked as his left hand travelled to the back of his neck rubbing it.

“Spence you don’t need my permission you can do what you like,” You smiled picking up one of the blue plastic cups. 

“Oh okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” Spencer walked off leaving you in the kitchen alone for a couple of minutes while you poured your drink before spotting Emily and deciding to stick with her for a while. 

Around an hour later, your social battery was beginning to drain, maybe you needed another drink but you already had one and you didn’t want to risk drinking anymore and getting tipsy from god knows what was in that punch when you had promised Spencer you wouldn’t be drinking. 

A few times you had looked around the room trying to find him to remove yourself from the party for a little while since you were right in the middle of it all but he was nowhere to be seen. After finding Emily she had convinced you to go with her over to the dance floor since the majority of the team were over in that direction. 

A couple of minutes ago you had seen Hotch with Rossi but still no Spencer in sight. You looked at the time on your phone, surely Hotch would be leaving soon to get home to his wife and child and Rossi would probably be going home soon too, perhaps that would prompt other people to start leaving and everything would die down so you could find Spencer. The what-ifs and possible scenarios of how things could go started running through your brain which would cause a panic soon enough.

“Are you okay Sugar?” Penelope asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

You nodded, “Yeah, do you have somewhere I could go and sit for a little while?”

“Mhm, the spare bedroom or the green space outside but I think Spencer went into the spare bedroom not too long ago,” Penelope rubbed the side of your arm.

“Thank you,” You smiled at her and left the front room to search for the spare bedroom, you should have asked where it was, that was your fault but it wasn’t a big apartment it wouldn’t be too hard to find.

—-----------------

Once you had found the only room left with the door closed you knocked on the door lightly in the way that Spencer would recognise.

“Come in,” He called through the door before you pushed it open and closed it behind you.

“Hi, Are you okay?” You asked from the door, you didn’t want to go over to him and interfere in his personal space if he needed a break from social interaction. 

“Just needed a break,” Spencer gave you a soft smile.

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, you’re fine here. Are you okay?” 

“Same as you, needed a break it was getting loud.” 

Spencer patted the space on the bed beside him, You perched on the edge of the bed not wanting to be too close to him because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“I won’t bite,” He laughed so you moved over a little move. 

“What do you like to do when you feel overwhelmed?” Spencer asked. 

“Listen to music usually but right now I definitely don’t want to, my ears need a break, what about you?” 

“Read, usually something with a lot of facts nothing fictional,” Spencer placed his hands on his stomach intertwining both of them. 

You looked down at his hands, “I didn’t think you’d be one for fiction ever.”

“I indulge every so often, it’s good to mix things up they are mostly classics though.”

“No modern romance novels in there Doctor Reid?” You teased. 

“Uhh, I’ve read a couple, they aren’t awful,” Spencer blushed a little which caught your attention. 

“Spencer Reid! What books have you been reading!” 

“Nothing nothing, just something I found at the library once… I should have been sceptical after the 20-something librarian told me it was one of her favourites.”

“I need you to lend me this book if it’s got you blushing like that,” You laugh.

“Um, I think I still have it if you actually do want it?” Spencer said not sure if you were joking or not. 

“Give it to me tomorrow,” You laid on your side facing him. 

“What books do you like to read? I see you with romance novels sometimes.”

“Yeah, mostly romance but also horror or maybe a thriller anything entertaining,” You shrug awkwardly due to how you were lying. 

“Maybe we could both swap books, I’d like to read something you like,” Spencer’s dimples showed through his smile. 

You nodded just before the door was swung open. 

“Hi lovebirds, we are wrapping things up, I just wanted to tell you we’ve agreed to let you two take this room, Derek and I are in my room and everyone else is in the living room,” Penelope said a lot louder than she had to speak considering she wasn’t near the loudspeakers anymore.

“Are you comfortable with that?” Spencer asked you.

“Yeah that’s fine with me and you?” You asked in return out of respect.

“Fine by me, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

“Okay great! If either of you needs anything the house is yours help yourself,” Penelope flashed a toothy smile, “Goodnight babies, no sex please,” she said as she left the room leaving you and Spencer blushing and stuttering for a response that never came. 

“That was weird,” Spencer’s cheeks were still a rosy red, “Do you want me to get your bag?” 

“No it’s okay, I forgot to pack pyjamas so I will sleep in this, I don’t know how I forgot,” You groaned. 

“Probably because you were anxious,” Spencer stated before adding, “You could borrow the shirt I brought for pyjamas, I could just wear the bottoms if you are comfortable with that?” 

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and I doubt you’re comfy in that, although it’s very nice, you look pretty.”

“You told me earlier,” You giggled, “Thank you.”

Spencer got off the bed taking his shirt and plaid pyjama pants out of his usual go bag for work, “I’ll let you change first uh I’ll wait outside.”

“It’s okay you don’t have to go just turn around,” You smiled to which he nodded. 

Once you were in only his shirt and your underwear you felt a little exposed but luckily his shirt was long and covered everything. You had taken off the little makeup you had on which also made you feel a little bare.

He was in his pj pants with no shirt and he looked good, really good, you both got under the covers facing each other. 

“You look even more beautiful than earlier,” Spencer said before his eyes widened a little, “Wait you always look beautiful.” 

“It’s okay I know what you meant, thanks, Spence.” 

Spencer’s hand inched closer to you, “Maybe. No would it be okay if I kissed you? I have wanted to for a while and-“ 

You cut Spencer off, “You want to kiss me?”

“Um i-if you want?” 

“Yeah… I’d be okay with that.”

Spencer leaned closer to you placing a hand on the side of your face before his eyes fluttered shut while your lips connected. 

It was a soft kiss, slow. No tongue, but it was perfect. One of the best kisses you had ever had. 

When he pulled away he kept his hand on your face, “Was that okay?” 

“More than okay,” You smiled, your eyes crinkled at the sides. 

“Could we go on a date at some point?” Spencer asked with hope in his eyes. 

“Yeah I’d like that,” You placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist as it rested near your mouth. 

His smile grew, “Do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah I’m kinda tired… is that okay?” 

“Of course! I’m going to face the other because I have a thing about people breathing on me,” he said. 

“I have that too!” You laughed, “We will both face opposite ways.” 

After you turned around it didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep. 

———————-

9 am the next morning Penelope knocked quietly on the door, she assumed you’d be up by now and didn’t want to disturb you but wanted to make sure you were okay. 

When she didn’t get a response she quietly opened the door to see both you and Spencer cuddled together on one side of the bed and his arm draped over your waist. She snapped a picture to show you both later before calling the others who were already awake to see the adorable scene.

—————————🩵————————

[neerathebrightstar]

Prequel : “ Curse upon thy garden”

pairing: Hal Jordan x gn reader

Hanahaki disease trope with a sprinkle of yandere (for now)

Inspired by @acid-ixx series again&again so it will get so much worse before it gets better

Read until the end for the author’s note

It isn’t until Hal starts coughing up petals that he realises how truly fucked he is. Sitting in front of the toilet bowl, retching and choking on red, purple and pink flowers he doesn’t know the name of, Hal allows himself to mourn. He mourns for the love that he now is sure will never be reciprocated and he mourns himself. There is no need to go see a surgeon when Hal knows he won’t be able to do what’s necessary to cure the disease. After all, Hanahaki ends in two ways: death or the flowers have to stop growing. And because Hal knows there is no way his love will ever love him back, the only way to save his lungs from becoming an overgrown garden is the surgery. It’s a horrific thing, barbaric even. Instead of love and petals, after the procedure there is a clean slate. It rids you of any feelings for the object of your affection and the ability to ever feel anything for them again. Hal’s love is strong, just like his will, it borders on obsession, and ever growing need to own the object of his desires. In the end it doesn’t matter if Hal will die, he is not afraid of death, what scares him is losing you. To never feel the love that bleeds from his heart into his lungs, and grows into the beauty with thorns is to truly die. You are his life, the air he breathes and flowers he chokes on. To allow someone to tear them out of their fertile soil is to tear out his heart.

When Spooky first demanded Hal stay away from his city, the ring wielding hero hadn’t paid the request (order really) much thought. Gotham was still in Jordan’s sector, he was obliged to patrol in the Known Universe so it was not like Batman could keep him out of his nest. Hal didn’t particularly like the vigilante too much since, well always, and getting on his nerves was like a hobby to him. He was pretty sure that Batman lived in a cave anyway (because who the fuck was even Bruce Wayne?) so who did he think he was to lecture the Great Green Lantern how to do this job.

It was during one of the moments when Hal felt like making a nuisance out of himself that he flew to Gotham using the ring. The original plan was to find Batman, see him pop a blood vessel, then go back home satisfied, drink a few beers and sleep. The problem was that he couldn’t find Spooky. Or any of the masked vigilantes in bird themed costumes (ridiculous idea if you were to ask him). But he couldn’t just leave like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs. God forbid one of Batman’s kids whose veins were filled with whatever serrum Bats invented to make them nocturnal find out about it and taunt him with it. He would not be bullied by kids with rabies thank you very much.

Hal flies around Gotham a couple of times as Green Lantern and stops a few minor crimes just to really rub it in Bruce’s face. He feels like a rebellious teenager decorating alleys with his signature graffiti and it makes him giddy. He doesn’t engage in any bigger stuff regarding Gotham’s colourful gallery of rogues. That will really piss Batman off, and Hal understands why. It would be like saying that he can’t handle his mess, in his own city, so while Jordan likes to irritate Spooky he still respects him enough not to get in his way too much.

He spends an hour like that before he decides that the Big Bad Bat won’t show up after all. He turns around to return to his home when he sees them. They are sitting on a rooftop, in one of the darker parts of Gotham (and Hal isn’t talking about light only, he is pretty sure most of the attacks he stopped tonight were in this neighbourhood), dressed in loose and old pants and the ugliest Christmas jumper Hal has ever seen. Even from so far away (he can’t explain why it bothers him that he can’t touch them immediately, whenever he wants) Jordan knows they are getting ready to jump (it will kill them and the thought takes all of breath from his lungs). He can’t scare them so he makes the glow of his suit even brighter, to the point he really looks like a human green lantern and flows to meet them gently over the railing. Their eyes snap from the asfalt below when Hal drapes himself dramatically next to them. He smiles somewhere between cocky and gentle and wiggles his brows.

“Everything's all right there, sweetheart?”

When they finally face him completely, something in his chest clicks so loudly, Hal knows that half of Gotham heard him. Staring at him are the loveliest eyes he ever saw on any species he encountered in Galaxy. Tears stream along their face like the artist's carefully placed strokes of a brush. Few of the city’s misplaced lights shine on their cheeks like glitter. It only adds to the fairytale like picture and the tugging on his hearth increases.

“Green Lantern? What are you doing in Gotham?”

Oh god. Thousands of angels sing in that voice (your voice is scratchy from all the crying but he doesn’t hear that. Right now he can’t stop looking and the only thing he sees is perfection) and Hal feels honoured his ears were worthy enough to hear it. He feels the sudden urge to tuck them under his head and protect them from all the harm in this world and every other world out there.

“Business with Gotham’s own Dark Knight. But seems his lady doesn’t own to good of a leash for her guard dog cause I can’t find him anywhere”

Hal pretends not to see how their face falls at the mention of the former emo kids and the BDSM enthusiasts wet dream come true clad in his leather glory and focuses on the problem at hand. They were trying to jump.

“But the FreakTM can wait, his bedtime doesn’t start until the sun goes up. Plenty of time to catch him later. Mind if I sit with you?”

He feels proud of himself when they crack a smile at his joke and don’t jump down to crack their skull instead. They look around, like they are checking if he is really talking to them before they scooch a little and put their knees to their chest. They wrap their hands around them and it’s only now that Hal sees them shaking. The Gotham air is chilly when Jordan finally sits down next to them before conjuring a big, warm and glowing green blanket to wrap around their shoulders. Hal more than feels the breath that hitched in his companion’s chest. They seem so small now, so breakable and Hal thanks whatever deity watched over them today that he made it on time.

“Bad day huh?”

They take their sweet time to respond but he waits patiently, so unlike himself, made to always leap into action. But it’s important, he can’t fuck it up. They sit there together, watching the streets of the crime infested city until the Batsignal appears on the foggy grey night sky. The civilians don’t usually fear the Bat, he protects them as much as he protects the city, but the one next to him clearly flinched like they were just slapped. He doesn’t ask because they are beginning to choke on sobs. They clutch their jumper and to Hal’s horror, they start beating themselves just over their hearth. He quickly takes their hands between his and squeezes.

“Please don’t do that”

They try to take their hands from him and sob more loudly. Hal doesn’t let go so they sit like that for a few more minutes before their silent voice interrupts the crying.

“Can you please hold me?”

They sound embarrassed and Hal wants to strangle whoever made them feel like asking for comfort is something not available to them. He pulls them so close they are practically sitting in his lap and hugs them tightly. They latch on him instantly and Jordan starts to pet their hair with one hand, humming softly.

“As long as you wish for, sweetheart”

That night you fall asleep on the hero’s shoulder, captured in his arms. You wake up alone but safe in your own bed, still wrapped in the glowing blanket. It doesn’t disappear until you properly stand up. The apartment is cold as always and there is nothing that can be done about that. But you feel warmer at the memory of last night. Because that was a Green Lantern, a hero both on this planet and others, a founding member of the Justice League. It has been a long time since anyone willingly offered you comfort like that. Sure, when you lived in the manor Alfred and his mostly silent presence was there, but he never touched you openly like that. Like a father or an older brother concerned for your wellbeing. And to be important enough in the Lantern’s eyes that he took time out of his day and saved you from throwing yourself to a certain death? It was a freeing experience, it showed you that you matter. So what if you never saw him again? You will always remember his embrace, his sweet nickname for you but most importantly you will always remember that every other day you will get to live will be thanks to his kindness.

It was not the last time you ever saw Hal. After he suffered through the Batman’s angry speech about respecting each heroes rules in their city (what a hypocrite, Hal knew very well he had contingencies on all of them and regularly broke their established rules) and his threats to never show his ugly green glow there again, the only thing he could think about was you. Your pretty, shiny eyes and soft, heartbreaking smile. He had to see you again. Just for the peace of his mind to make sure you didn’t try to jump again. It also had an added benefit of regularly pissing off Spooky who was sure to get an aneurysm if he ever saw him flirting with a civilian in his city as a Green Lantern.

The next time he comes, he should bring something to eat with him. He saw your pathetic excuse of a kitchen so what better way to charm you than feed you? He couldn’t exactly ask you out to a proper restaurant like he normally would, not in a suit so takeout would have to do. He needs to catch your name this time. After all he has to make sure it will sound good with your future last name “Jordan”.

this work is a gift to a wonderful @acid-ixx who inspires me everyday to write. his series a&a changed me as a person and I recommend you read it. this work is inspired by his series and i plan on it being a multi chapter piece but i won’t promise any regular posting, my writing schedule is shit. Yael i love you for your hard work and writing so this was meant to be a birthday present for you but I didn’t manage to finish it on time and i still had to split it.

If anyone want to be tagged let me know <3

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 3

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

3: My Dearest, Playful

Perhaps it started with the little notes.

When Sylus gradually shifted from his previous tailor to you, it was supposed to be a simple business transaction. A seamless transition as you become his lead tailor. A trade where he will pay and he will receive the clothes in return.

Your father was very confident with your skills and one look at the samples your father has laid out in front of him is enough for Sylus to know you have unparalleled talent when it comes to design and sewing.

He didn’t question what you and your father are doing here in the N109 zone even if your kind should not be here at all. There is already a fair share of artisans and any brilliant minds for that matter like you who chose to settle here for various reasons. 

Debt. 

Crime. 

Humans.

The list goes long.

When his first request from you arrived, he was more than pleased. Inside the dark cardboard box laced with red tissue paper was the business attire he had commissioned from you. From the embroidery, the fabric, and the measurements, you were able to capture everything just as he imagined it.

But what tops everything is the little note at the bottom of the box. 

“Thank you, Mr. Sylus.”

Neat handwriting. A simple thanks signed with your first name and a cute drawing of a smiling deer.

He didn’t write a response to that message and instead sent a bouquet of roses after that. Afterall, he knows when to acknowledge effort when he sees it.

Then it became a game. At least for him. A back and forth.

Every time you send over a box, he will always find these little notes at the bottom, always a note of gratitude.

“Thank you for the flowers, Mr. Sylus.”

“The hairpin is very lovely.”

“Father and I had a wonderful night.”

Oh, he remembered that night quite well. It was the night where he finally laid eyes on his shy and elusive tailor that he only saw before through the optics of Mephisto.

So many well-dressed people that evening. The opera has a good ensemble of music and a capable orchestra but his gaze was only trained at you the entire time.

Who would have known?

You are much lovelier in person. Even if you are a good distance away from him. 

Now, he gets to appreciate that beauty up close.

“Skye, what brings you here?”, you asked him, tilting your head slightly at him. You had your hair up and Sylus’ gaze lingered on your neck and in the skin not covered by the collar of your blouse, beads of sweat trickling down.

As usual, Mephisto is here (Again) and currently perched at your antlers while you carry boxes of clothes for delivery from your studio to the receiving area. The bird really does love your company so much.

“Just wanted to check on my boss’ favorite tailor,” Sylus replied, a hint of amusement in his voice towards the fact it is becoming too easy to switch on this new persona around you as time passed by. “Where’s your father, sweetie?”

Of course, Sylus knows the answer to that already even before he stepped inside your shop, fully aware that your father had left you by your lonesome today to go to the nearby hospital for his check-up.

Sure, he always had Luke and Kieran watch over you despite being fully aware none of your clients will do anything stupid when inside your shop but he isn’t going to take his chances today.

Besides, this is the perfect chance to spend time with you without having to deal with your father’s subtle fearful gaze.

The fear is understandable, he supposed. A deer and a dragon together in one room? That usually spells disaster if you and him are outside the N109 zone.

A disaster that usually ends in the front page of the newspaper.

“Oh, he went to the hospital for a check-up, Skye,” you smiled at him and you were about to pick up another box when he beat you to it, his hands gently covering yours and then carrying it himself.

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me, sweetheart.”

“Mr. Sylus might think I am turning you into my errand boy.”

“Don’t worry, darling, consider it as me being a gentleman,” he answered, his tail wrapping around your waist while you walked back with him to the receiving area.

He would do anything you ask without complaint. 

Lovesick. Utterly smitten. He should have talked to you long ago, to relish being accepted by you who worries over his being than over the possibility of being mauled to death by him.

His response is rewarded with a smile from you. They aren’t as bad as your fellow hybrids and even humans claim they are. 

Dragon hybrids. 

Wolf hybrids. 

Or any hybrids that take into the traits of any carnivore. 

If anything, Skye, the twins, and the other residents here in the N109 zone have been very accommodating to you so far despite your differences. Perhaps it is possible, all of you hybrids living in solidarity.

“How can I make it up to you, Skye?”, you asked, watching him set down the box with the others. Simon, the canine hybrid delivery boy, should be here any minute now to pick them up and bring them to your clients.

“Is a kiss too much to ask?”

Sylus meant it as a joke, to tease you, just so he can see your adorable blush but a part of him secretly hopes you will give it to him just like how you give it freely to Mephisto and the twins.

You tilt your head at him, as if surprised with his request that was immediately replaced with a soft smile.

What are you doing?

He looked down at you, slightly confused (and perhaps, amused) when he saw you cock your head slightly upwards with your eyes closed.

You are waiting for him to do something.

Is this what he thinks it is?

“And what is this for, sweetie?”, he asked, his breath hitching upon realizing your position.

You are going to let him take a kiss.

You tapped on your forehead, “Here. This spot.”

It was good you specified where at least but even if you don’t, he has half a mind that there are things he shouldn’t take without your permission.

These are one of the rare occasions where Sylus’ self-control slips for a fraction and he has to remind himself he is supposed to be playing the role of ‘Skye’. One of Mr. Sylus’ henchmen as you said. 

He studied your face briefly, looking for any signs of doubt but there is none. Are you teasing him back? No, it doesn’t look like it. 

You are actually letting him do it.

He inhaled sharply and his tail wrapped around you tightened briefly before leaning closer then gently placing a kiss on your forehead, a content and quiet sigh escaping his lips as he waited for your reaction.

He wants to do it again. To shower you with such gestures.

“I hope that is enough to make it up for helping me here today, Skye,” you said, a satisfied expression on your face.

How sweet can you get, Miss Deer? Giving these freely when asked nicely.

“Consider it paid in full, sweetie,” Sylus chuckled softly. You are so unpredictable sometimes that he made a mental note that he should be more clear next time.

But it isn’t so bad.

The sharp ringing of the telephone cut through the quietness of the receiving area and Sylus watched you walk towards it to pick it up, his tail letting go of you.

He listened idly to your quiet conversation to the other person on the line and his attention went from the small smile on your face then downwards, his gaze shifting on your tail swaying side to side.

Cute, fluffy, well-groomed and-

-oh-so-inviting.

How would it feel against his fingertips or perhaps, tangled against his own?

“I understand,” you nodded, a worried look on your face, “Get well soon, Simon.”

You put down the phone and looked at the boxes for delivery. Should you return them back to your studio and ask your clients to pick it up? But then again, they requested it for delivery and you sighed heavily.

It isn’t the delivery boy’s fault if he caught the flu. It was a miracle he even managed to call you based on the state of his voice.

“It looks like I had to the delivery today, Skye,” you told him, walking towards the entrance of the shop to flip the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

“I am coming with you, sweetie.”

“But how?”

“With my car, miss seamstress.”

“Mr. Sylus wouldn’t mind? He might be looking for you now,” you replied, slightly worried. He already helped you around moving the boxes and now he is driving you around as well?

Oh, who do you think I am?

“He can afford a few hours without me,” he answered dismissively, already picking up boxes to load on his car. There is no way he will let you walk and use the public transportation especially not in the N109 zone.

“It looks like I owe you again, Skye,” you smiled at him, following him to his car with your clipboard.

This is clearly an expensive car.

He said it was his car, right? You are sure you didn’t misheard. Does Mr. Sylus pays his people well? Maybe the rumors were actually true when it comes to his wealth or maybe it is hazard pay? There is word that Mr. Sylus and his people deal with hybrids and humans alike on their line of work.

“Consider it as my gratitude for your little reward earlier, sweetheart.”

Your subtle surprised reaction did not escape his notice and he had to stifle his chuckle on your reaction, his tail flicking in amusement as he opened the car door for you, his hand on the small of your back.

He should take you to joyrides every now and then.

In fact, now that he thinks about it, that isn’t enough at all in his dictionary when it comes to spoiling you.

────────────────────

All of his business associates were stunned.

It was no secret at this point that Sylus is visiting you frequently and becoming more watchful over you. They know this because when a shootout happened right in  front of your shop, Sylus was immediately there, royally pissed at the perpetrators and a new rule was added that there should be no violence at all within the 500 meters of your shop.

Did everyone get the message? Oh, they certainly did especially when the warehouses of the perpetrators were conveniently burned down the morning after.

The message is very loud and clear.

They all agreed you and him make an unlikely pair. It wasn’t uncommon between hybrids of different species to find attraction towards each other but in your case? They actually all prayed (Which is the most unusual) that their beloved tailor will be safe.

Surely, Sylus has enough self-restraint to not mistake you for prey, right? That he isn’t a wild animal wearing well-tailored clothes to mingle among the turbulent crowd of hybrids and humans.

There was a certain expectation that his demeanor will be softened at least slightly when he is around you yet seeing you together for the first time? By goodness, he looked more terrifying even when you were standing beside him, greeting them all cheerfully and explaining why you are doing the delivery today.

You frowned upon seeing your client shake. This is the third time your clients looked at you as if they wanted to be anywhere but here and you know precisely why.

You didn’t expect Skye to be that scary to other people but he actually is. Does that come with working with Mr. Sylus? Luke and Kieran do not look menacing at all but they did mention they do the dirty work so that only means Skye is most likely sent to do the same as well.

Maybe their images change depending on the situation.

“Oh, please don’t be scared,” you tried your best to assure your client who is clearly trembling in the appearance of your companion, “Skye’s not on duty today. He is just tagging along.”

Sylus just smirked at the man in front of you who was looking at him in sheer terror. He badly wanted to laugh but chose not to, not wanting to break his facade.

It is not often you find the leader of Onychinus himself standing on your doorstep especially when you just woke up and in your pajamas.

Skye?

Why are you calling Sylus using a different name? Or maybe that is a nickname? The word going about is he is pursuing you but are you two that far in your relationship already?

Your client, an older lion hybrid, kept his eyes at you, not daring to look at Sylus.

“Yes, my apologies,” your client nodded slowly and he is careful not to even brush his hands against yours as you handed him the box of suit you tailored for him, “Not so often you see, um-, Sy-”

He froze when Sylus glared at him, a silent warning, daring him to finish that sentence, his tail flicking in subtle annoyance.

The older lion is even more confused but chose not to prod further. Work with Sylus long enough and you will see signs when he doesn’t want to continue the conversation any further. To leave the subject as it is, choose a new topic, and hope that would placate him.

You caught the silent exchange between them and it even made you slightly frustrated that Skye is unintentionally being scary. You do believe it isn’t his fault since he did not get to choose what kind of hybrid he would be when he was born.

“Skye, stop scaring him,” you gently chided him and the lion hybrid watched in surprise at how fast Sylus switched his expression, holding a subtle fondness when he gazed at you.

“I’m not scary, sweetie.”

“You’re not to me but to them, I think you are.”

“Oh, am I?”

“You were just glaring at him awhile ago,” you pointed out, and even then, your scolding is quite gentle, as if reprimanding a child who is bullying someone younger than him.

Perhaps you need to work with him on making sure he doesn’t scare people during his off time.

“I am really sorry, sir,”, you bowed politely to the still stunned lion hybrid, “We need to get going but please be assured we are going to work on his customer service.”

Your client just nodded slowly, mumbling a small thanks, watching as you and Sylus walked back towards the car, the dragon hybrid’s tail wrapped loosely around your waist and even then, he could still pick up the dragon hybrid teasing you.

“Are you going to teach me how to behave, sweetie?”

“If you don’t mind, Skye.”

.

.

.

What on earth just happened?

────────────────────

It was certainly exhausting delivering all of those boxes.

Sylus watched you in amusement, taking a sip of his coffee while you rested your head on your arms on the table. He mostly let you do the talking even when you attempted to let him take the lead so he could work on his ‘customer service’ only for him to fail. (Mostly because the moment your clients opened the door they almost had a heart attack so you had to take over.)

“Maybe we need to work on your smile,” you mumbled, your groan of frustration sounding louder because of how quiet the cafe was.

“And how do you suggest we work on that, miss seamstress?”, he asked, his hand resting on his chin as you looked at him, studying his face.

Up close, Skye actually looks quite.. good looking, a faint blush tinting your cheeks at the thought and you shook your head.

You find these feelings very confusing. On one hand you have Mr. Sylus, still shrouded in mystery as ever but now you confirmed he is almost the same age as you and now every time he asks Skye to deliver his gifts, your crush slight admiration for him grows despite being aware you don’t even know him but you appreciate his shy attempts on making a connection with you.

Yet, you don’t even know what he looks like. What kind of hybrid is he even?

Then, you have Skye, a recent character, who keeps you company even when he just had to drop off the gift and go. Every time he hands you Mr. Sylus’ presents, you often see that it is from him instead.

It is all frustrating but you have to come into terms that dragon hybrids should be with their kind and the same goes to you and Mr. Sylus.

“Let me think,” you said, your brows slightly furrowed.

Back to the topic. The plan. Maybe his fangs slightly poking out might be the problem and smirking seemed to be his default expression.

“Take your time, sweetie, I’m in no rush,” he replied, his gaze more fixed at your little pout and he raised his brow when you switched seats, sitting beside him. “What’s this?”

“I am fixing your smile.”

Oh, this is good. 

Very good. 

He relished the warmth of your hands on his face while you try to correct his smirk, making his fangs slightly hidden. A very surprising turn of events but a favorable one. Who knows accompanying you for delivery would lead to your delicate hands touching him like this.

It didn’t help how close you are, the scent of cotton and wildflowers at full force.

Little deer forgets she is in the company of a predator it seems.

How amusing how you never cower even when the rest of the beasts you have met with him did.

“Is this your way of fixing my smile then?”, he asked, his voice slightly muffled and he noticed the slight tremble on your touch.

Perhaps the deer instincts are still there.

“I just want to see if I can.”

You nodded but there was a subtle hint of fear in your gaze when you noticed how sharp those canines are up close before it was immediately replaced by the determination you have earlier.

Sure, Skye and you are polar opposites when it comes to species but no, he wouldn’t jump on you-

-He wouldn’t jump on you and eat you.

“You’re trembling, miss seamstress” he said quietly, holding one of your wrists.

“I am just hungry,” you immediately replied, your other hand resting on your lap.

Your ears drooped slightly, guilty and ashamed for letting your natural instincts dictate your reactions. No one has harmed you so far in this place. It isn’t fair for you to look at him in fear when Skye has been kind to you. Who had every chance to pounce on you while both of you are alone on your studio but did not.

Sylus knows it is an excuse but chose to let it slide, letting go of your wrist. He doesn’t want to ruin this little impromptu date (It is a date, you just don’t know.)

“Our orders should be here any minute now, sweetheart,” he replied.

He didn’t push any further but his tail wrapped around you gently and he hoped despite you being so naive, so oblivious, you will take this as a sign that he is grateful.

Grateful that you didn’t stand up and flee.

Your tail wagged slightly when you saw your strawberry shortcake set in front of you together with his lemon tart.

“This looks very delicious,” you said, studying the treat in front of you.

“You’re more excited at the cake than finishing the delivery earlier, Miss Deer” he commented, poking your cheek.

Of course you are, especially when the strawberries on top look very fresh partnered with a pink macaron.

“The macaron looked so cute.”

“It does, but not as cute as you, darling deer.”

“Liar.”

What was it exactly? 

Your playful tease? 

The sense of foreboding that he is indeed a liar, that he is lying to you about his identity? 

Or maybe it was the white cream on your fingers?  Or perhaps the tip of your tongue darting slightly on your bottom lip to clean the crumbs of the pink pastry? 

Or was it because he wanted to be the one to lick that little mess himself?

No, it is what comes after.

It is what comes after that would bother him for the next few days and bear that irrational anger that comes with pining over the deer gazing back at him from her hidden grove, waiting for him to reveal himself from the darkness of the woods that surround your little paradise.

It is what comes after that when he can hear his heartbeats against his chest, his breath hitching, his eyes widening, and his lips parting slightly.

It was when-

It was when you made that sound with your oh-so-inviting lips.

Pop.

“Oh, it is as tasty as it looks!”, you exclaimed.

The trance breaks.

He blinked, immediately taking a deep breath to collect himself.

“Let me have a taste,” he said playfully, slightly strained while he try to calm the beating of his heart.

“Can you let me try yours as well, Skye?”, you asked.

Maybe he bit more than he can chew for today but he himself won’t admit that.

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Sylus wouldn't deny how far his imagination goes when it comes to you.

They are usually domestic most of the time, little wishes of resting his chin on your shoulder while watching you work but there are cases it goes beyond that.

It was natural, he supposed, especially when he is already a lovestruck fool at this point. 

A lovestruck fool for you, at least.

But they were proof to him. 

That this attraction is not because he wants to devour you like those lunatics who lost their minds on the haze on being unable to discern the difference between love and obsession.

His affections for you are real. His intentions are without a doubt, pure.

He acted as if he never saw the rest of his business associates earlier that day and no one dared to bring up why he is accompanying you on a delivery run.

Despite that, things do not go smoothly.

Not because people are being stubborn, no, they are very cooperative for once.

It was because every now and then, he remembers that sound. 

That sound you made earlier.

Pop.

It was enough to distract him every now and then. How his hold on the firearm faltered just slightly when he was inspecting it, how his grip on the cards during the poker game tightened and he is glad that his schedule isn't tight tonight because he would like to have some time for himself, to clear his head.

"What are we going to do if there are any incoming calls for you, boss?", Luke asked.

“Just say I am busy for tonight,” he sighed then added.

“And no interruptions unless it’s urgent.”

Luke and Kieran looked at each other, perplexed. Usually, the boss would be in his best mood after visiting you but he looked grumpy tonight.

Did you guys fight? No way. They had spent enough time with you to know you don’t get ticked off so easily.

“Is Miss Deer okay?”, Kieran asked quietly.

“She’s fine,” he answered and gave them a dismissive wave.

The two just nodded, making a mental note to swing by tomorrow to check on you as well or maybe tonight. What if you are crying because the boss said something? Oh, they really hope you aren’t.

Perhaps they should bring along a box of sweets just in case and tell you it was from the boss.

Because if they need to be a mediator between you and the boss, then so be it.

The twins closed the door behind them and Sylus ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought and it did not help that his pants are tighter than usual.

Terribly unfair how he had to deal with this while you are back at your shop, most likely hard at work even during the evenings.

Perhaps a long and cold shower should help him and for good measure, he will down a bottle of whisky too because for once, he hopes that you will not appear in his dreams tonight, fully aware what kind of dream it will be.

Oh, how wrong he was.

────────────────────

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[atzloverr]

Love beyond our realm

Yandere fallen angel Yeosang x reader

Warnings: not biblically accurate AT ALL, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, yandere themes, rape, bondage, oral (f recieving), purely fiction, body worship, he is fucked in the head, read at your own risk!!! minors dni

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Yeosang hated humans.

He had always thought of them as lesser creatures, even as his brethren thought of them as cute and clueless, Yeosang knew what they were truly capable of.

Being a guardian angel to a monster disguised as a human was hard, and having to watch that monster hurt innocent people, was enough to convince Yeosang to never trust a human again.

“Forgive me father,” Yeosang spoke. The cathedral was empty at this time of day, so he found himself here, begging for forgiveness in such a pathetic human place. He would’ve returned to his own realm, if it weren’t for the sin he had committed.

Surely they’ll never forgive him for killing a human. It’s the one rule Angels can never break, no matter what. They were sent to help the poor humans, so committing such a crime could never be forgiven.

As much as Yeosang wanted to feel bad, he just couldn’t. Seeing the human he was assigned to protect rape innocent women was enough to make Yeosang snap.

“These filthy humans…” he spoke lowly before standing up to leave the cathedral once again. His majestic wings shimmered in the moonlight shining through the windows as he finally decided to make his way back to his realm. If it was one thing he had learned from his brethren, it was to never avoid the inevitable.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Yeosang’s anguished scream was probably heard by all creatures of the realm, as he was harshly whipped. When yet another whipping sound was heard, it was soon followed by another sound of pure terror.

The blonde angel had to admit that he had it coming. He knew what he did when he decided to personally murder that disgusting man, and even as he felt the harsh whip crack the skin of his chest open once again, he didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

As he felt himself slowly lose consciousness after the hours of torture, he was sure this was the end. Angels were known to be immortal in the human realm, but they could die in the hands of another supernatural being.

As he finally felt the deep and dark slumber wash over him, a wave of relief did so as well. Finally, his suffering was going to end, and he wouldn’t have to endure the miserable life of an angel anymore.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was a rainy evening, the dark clouds occasionally being illuminated by the bright lightning. You heard the rumble of thunder as you drove home from work on the empty driveway.

Suddenly, your attention was snatched by something odd laying on the side of the rode. You squinted, trying to see the oddly shaped thing. As you came closer and closer, your eyes only widened further.

Wings.

Big, white and graceful wings were wrapped around the creature. You wondered if it was some kind of bird, but you had never seen such big wings before.

As you came closer to the odd thing, you pulled over and rushed out of the car to examine it.

You started looking at it from different angles, but when you finally saw the full form of the creature, you froze.

It was a human. With wings.

You blinked.

Without even processing those unimaginable thoughts for longer, you stepped closer to him. He looked young, and his chest and stomach was filled with wounds, bleeding out. The only clothes he seemed to wear was a type of cloth around his hips, covering up his private parts. You crouched down, trying to get a better look at him.

He was lying on his side, his right wing wrapped protectively around him like a shield. His body weight was pressed over the other, and even though you still couldn’t comprehend this being, you could tell he needed help.

His eyes were closed, and even after just getting a brief look at his face, you gasped in awe at his beauty.

An angel?

You thought back to your mother, who told you tales about the angels. Those who protect us every single day, without us knowing a thing.

You had always thought of those stories as fairytales, but right now, you had no choice but to believe them.

You grabbed his wounded shoulders, trying your best to avoid any cuts, and tried shaking him awake.

“Hello?” your voice called for him, laced with panic and urgency. Your breath only picked up more when he showed no signs of consciousness, lying there like a lifeless doll on the ground.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A voice.

Small, but so apparent.

Yeosang contemplated whether he was dead or not. It was unknown to him what would happen if an angel died. Would he be eternally punished for his sins?

That voice.

He heard it again.

It wasn’t the voice of some cruel demon wanting to hurt him, it was one laced with concern and care.

He didn’t want to believe what his suspicions told him.

A human woman.

Yeosang felt his body being shaken. Two hands were wrapped around his forearms, too gently to hurt, but too firm to go unnoticed in the state he found himself in.

Somewhere in between life and death. This voice, these hands, they were desperately trying to pull him towards life.

He found himself growing more and more aware, and suddenly, you were there. You were right in front of him.

Surely, this creature couldn’t be human.

Such a warm gaze, such a gentle tone, even when in distress. Such beauty, what could he had possibly done to deserve such a deity’s tender attention.

Your eyes roamed his wounded body, and occasionally met his half opened eyes, admiring you.

“Here, please let me help you,” he heard your voice sound out. His wings flapped in discomfort, and just then, he realized the position he was in. A groan of pain escaped his lips as his body weight pressed down on his injured wing.

You tried to pull him upwards, and his surprisingly light body came crashing down in your embrace. You still tried your best not to hurt his already wounded body.

Yeosang’s head snapped up, meeting your gaze. He examined your face with caution. She looked human. He knew there were kind humans out there, but a part of him didn’t want to believe it.

“Do you think you could walk with me to my car?” you asked. The intense worry in your voice shocked the angel. Why would you care so much for someone you had never encountered before?

As you helped him stand up, he hissed in pain when you accidentally brushed up against his injured wing. You apologized immediately, slowly leading him to your car.

The quiet rumble of the engine soothed the injured angel in your backseat. In order to fit his large wings in your small car, he had to almost lay down. You weren’t happy with his position, but made sure to try and drive as safely as possible, not wanting to cause an accident.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you focused on driving. He noticed the way you purposely avoided all the road bumps, clearly not wanting him to get further injured.

He had never been this mesmerized with a mere human before. Having seen them every day for years, this was the first time someone managed to catch his attention in this way.

He ended up silently admiring you the entire car ride home, not wanting to tear his eyes away from you for a reason he couldn’t understand. What about you was so special? Why did he feel the need to protect you? Sure, as a guardian angel, it was his job to protect his assigned human, but he had never felt such an obligation to do so until as of right now.

You eyed the curious angel in your backseat through the rear-view window, still not quite believing your own eyes. As you stopped the car, you had to gather all your sanity to talk to him again. Had you gone crazy? Was this some weird hallucination who you spoke to?

It had felt so real, helping him to your car, touching his blemished skin.

When you finally appeared at the small cottage you had learned to call home, you noticed that the rain had stopped. You smiled slightly when you stepped out of the car, only being able to smell the previous downpour.

“Here, let me help you out,” you suggested to the man in your backseat, reaching out your hand for him to grab. His eyes were wide with interest, as he slowly put his hand in yours. He blinked at the sudden touch.

As you gently led him into your house, sitting him down on a chair in the kitchen, Yeosang’s eyes never left your face. You didn’t know what to think of it. You honestly didn’t know what to think of any of this.

“Okay, I’ll go get some things to clean your wounds with, so you just stay put,” you said, sounding unsure of yourself. Yeosang only nodded, knowing that your human medicine might not work on him, but not minding having you try and take care of him.

As you rushed to the bathroom, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. There was a random man, if you could even call him that, in your house. Where did he come from? Why was he lying on the street covered in wounds? What is he?

You gathered tour thoughts, and decided to just focus on what you could do right now, which was just helping him patch up.

As you anxiously stepped into your small kitchen again, you noticed that he had stood up, currently examining a painting on your wall.

“O- Oh no, please sit down,” you begged, slowly walking up to him. “You’re hurt.”

He looked at you, and immediately went back to the position you left him in, sitting obediently on the chair. You sighed as you picked up an antibacterial liquid, coating a cotton swab with it.

“This might sting,” you said apologetically, slowly cleaning one of the wounds on his stomach. You eyed his reaction, but barely found a response, he just kept his eyes plastered on your face in interest.

As you continued treating his wounds, Yeosang felt an odd feeling in his stomach. Even when his wings were aching like never before, the pain of literally falling out of the sky haunting him, he could only focus on one thing right now.

You.

You were such a sweet little human. As much as it was endearing, it was also confusing. Humans were vile creatures, only causing trouble on earth, so why were you an exception? It almost frustrated the angel. It was as if his beliefs got crushed, proving him wrong about the humans.

Oh, but you were so cute. Helping him with his wounds, treating them with such care and weariness.

Yeosang thought that, maybe this was a sign from the gods. Maybe, his sins would only be forgiven if he succeeded at his new task.

Protecting you.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

For the first few days, Yeosang assumed you were just a kind hearted human, who was willing to take care of him when he needed it most. But when he gazed upon your worried expression as you tenderly cleaned his legs, making sure not to brush up against his not yet fully healed injuries, another thought came to him.

You weren’t just a mere human, no. You were something else. Perhaps, some unknown force granted him a new opportunity to prove himself, by giving him a new chance.

A goddess.

A new person for him to devote himself to, only this time, in human form.

Surely it couldn’t have been a coincidence, meeting you that day, when he was in such desperate need for care.

“Yeosang, are you listening to me?” you smiled, looking up at the man’s dazed eyes. He blinked, before looking away in shame. “Sorry, what were you saying?” Yeosang said quietly, his gaze meeting yours.

“Do your wounds still hurt? Do you want me to get some medicine?” you repeated, causing Yeosang to immediately shake his head. “No, no, there’s… No need for that,” he replied, hands finding the towel laying in his lap.

For the past few days, you had been taking care of Yeosang like one would take care of a child, in need of constant care. You made him meals, bathed him and made sure he got enough sleep every night. When he explained to you what his life had been like before you found him, you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing.

If anyone else would’ve told you these obscure stories about angels, you would’ve never believed a single word, but as you woke up every morning with the winged man still in your house, you had no choice but to believe him.

And at this point, you didn’t know what to do with him. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, but honestly, you couldn’t afford taking care of him for however long he needed it.

Yeosang didn’t seem the least bit worried about his future though. He just kept a small smile plastered on his lips as you tended to his needs.

You watched as he politely wiped his lips after finishing the breakfast you had provided him.

“Thank you so much, Y/n,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yeah, I have to get to work now,” you spoke, getting up to put your outerwear on, but a hand around your wrist halted you in your movements. Your head snapped back to Yeosang, who had stood up from his seat, an almost frightened look on his face.

“N-no don’t…” he started, fingers grazing your wrist carefully.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, and there’s lunch for you to heat up when I’m gone,” you comforted, awkwardly trying to shake his grip on you.

He pouted and let out a whine in disagreement, like a child throwing a tantrum. Yeosang knew that if his brethren saw him like this, they wouldn’t be able to stifle their laughter. His utter disgust with the human race was such a contrast to his behavior right now, feeling such sadness at the thought of you leaving.

Just as you were about to wave Yeosang goodbye, he pulled your body towards his in a long hug, his almost fully healed wings wrapping around the two of you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You felt flustered at his sudden display of affection, but just assumed he felt scared to be alone. He hadn’t spent a single moment alone as a fallen angel, without you by his side, aiding to his needs constantly.

Yeosang watched as your car drove further and further away from your small house, the sound of the engine slowly fading away. He felt so useless, not being able to watch over you in your daily life. Who knew what type of humans would encounter you today? Who knew what they would to do you?

Yeosang took a few deep breaths. He had to keep himself calm, and presentable for you, his goddess. You were never to see him in such a state, lacking self control. He needed to prove himself as your devoted follower.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Y/n! You’re home!” Yeosang cheered as he practically flew up from the couch, running up to you as you stepped inside. You felt a comfortable warmth when he took your hands in his, yours being cold from the october weather outside. He rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs, continuing to warm them.

A look of distress covered his features before he wrapped his arms around you. You never expected him to be so touchy, but honestly, couldn’t complain.

You hadn’t received this type of affection from someone in years, and knowing someone was anticipating your return from work felt… good.

You didn’t want to admit it, thinking back to the fact that this man was a complete stranger, and a fallen angel at that.

“You’re freezing,” he pouted, his arms rubbing your shoulders. “You have to dress more appropriately,” he scolded, but you only giggled at his attempt at sounding tough.

“I’m fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes before detangling yourself from his arms. His eyes kept following your figure as you took off your shoes and coat, never once leaving your form, even as you started becoming visibly uncomfortable with his stare.

You were just so, enchanting. Something about you was so graceful and beautiful. The way you swiftly took off your coat, or just the way your hair curved when you tucked it behind your ears. Yeosang couldn’t tell if he wanted you to dote on him for the rest of your life, or if he wanted to be the one to take care of you. He didn’t want to disturb you with his needs and wants, but oh, how wonderful it felt to have someone like you look after him. He could easily make himself seem more helpless than he actually is, just to observe you when you take care of him.

After dinner, it didn’t take long until you were passed out on the couch. The meaningless program on the TV, paired with the exhaustion from your long shift, made your eyelids heavy in a matter of seconds. Yeosang watched closely as your chest rose and fell in your deep slumber.

A small gasp escaped his lips. How could someone be so beautiful, even when fast asleep? You looked so peaceful and calm, contrasting your somewhat stressed demeanor that you always seemed to have during the day.

Yeosang wanted to make every day for you free of stress and anxiety. You deserved to be loved, cherished and taken care of in a way no other human could even dream of.

You didn’t wake up when you were slowly picked up from your position on the couch. The TV turned off, and the sweet humming of Yeosang being the only thing heard in your house.

Yeosang made sure not to move you too quickly when he put you down on the soft bed. When you were at work, he had tried his best to understand everything there was to know about your house, so he had quickly learned where you kept all of your clothes.

Just as he was about to pull out some clothes for you to sleep in, he had a thought.

Did you really need clothes to sleep in?

Angels never wore clothes when sleeping, and after all, you had your blankets to cover your body. He closed your closet and walked up to your sleeping form. Looking down, he could see the way his hands were trembling slightly in excitement. Seeing a goddess like you unclothed would truly be a privilege, but as your devoted follower, he would make sure to make it up to you in any way he possibly could.

When Yeosang slowly pulled your pants down, revealing your bare legs, he felt an odd sensation between his legs. He twitched, and looked down to see his already fully ejected dick, forming a tent in the loose pants you’d provided for him.

Never in his life had he gotten so turned on this quickly. Angels were higher creatures, with more self control, so did becoming a fallen angel mean that he now had the sexual drive of a regular human? Yeosang tried his best to ignore his thoughts, and continued to undress you carefully.

His breath shuddered when he revealed your bare stomach. Unfortunately, you were wearing a bra. Another thing he hated about humans, their need to make the female gender suffer. Why should you need to wear such an uncomfortable thing? He sighed as he unclasped it from the back. He made sure his touch remained featherlight, not wanting to wake you up from your well deserved rest.

Now, the only thing remaining on you were your panties. Yeosang had to admit it felt perverted, to undress you like this when you weren’t conscious. He knew that humans felt ashamed to be seen bare, but he really only did this for your own comfort.

His hands gripped the soft fabric of your panties as he slowly pulled them down. He felt his heartbeat pick up in excitement when you were soon completely naked, small goosebumps showing up on your skin as the cold air chilled you.

You truly were divine.

Yeosang was sure he hadn’t seen you this beautiful before. You were truly unreal, your body curved to perfection, illuminated with such a gentle glow.

Your covers were gently thrown over your body. Yeosang started to undress himself, not being able to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. He wasn’t satisfied with the boxers you had given him. They were too tight, and not breathable enough, but if it made you happy, he would wear anything you asked him to.

As his body slowly sunk under the covers, he almost moaned at the feeling of the soft material against his skin. His wings had a mind of their own, instinctively wrapping around your body. Yeosang felt flustered as your body pushed against his. He inhaled your scent deeply, and couldn’t stop his hand from traveling lower on his body.

He had never felt this type of sexual frustration before. It was like he needed a release as quickly as possible. His hips soon started bucking into his soft hands, small moans of pleasure escaping him. He made sure to keep his eyes on you the whole time, making sure you stayed asleep.

His free arm snaked itself around your bare waist, his hand lovingly rubbing your stomach. Yeosang felt his orgasm building inside of him, and had to bite his lips in order to muffle his loud moans as he finally exploded into his hand, trying not to make a mess in your bed.

Even as Yeosang’s eyes started to roll back, he made sure to keep them on you. He couldn’t be distracted from your beauty. This was all because of you. As his breathing slowly calmed down again, he couldn’t stop himself from leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, the small whimpers you let out in your sleep making him think of something.

It felt so wrong.

Pleasuring himself like this, without even giving you an ounce of the same wonderful feelings of bliss. You deserved to be worshipped, not have someone worthless getting the pleasure of the sight of you without paying you for the privilege.

Yeosang’s hands pulled away from your form as he repositioned himself. He was now on top of you, the sheets pulled off of you to reveal the beauty underneath.

He started leaving open mouthed kisses down your body, his tongue occasionally licking your soft skin to get a taste of the divine. When his head came down to the level of your chest, he couldn’t help but attach his mouth to one of your soft breasts.

He started licking your nipples carefully, still making sure not to wake you up. When he noticed that you were still fast asleep, he got so bold as to suck on the hardened nubs, his tongue slowly flicking them. No words could describe the satisfaction he felt when you let out another small whimper. You must like it then, he thought.

He let his mouth keep wandering down, kisses being left all over your stomach, before he finally reached his final destination.

He gently held your thighs in his hands, his fingers softly kneading the flesh. He took a few deep breaths before doing what he couldn’t wait any longer to do. He felt a jolt of pleasure wash over him when he finally felt your warm sex on his tongue.

The erection he had worked to get down, was now bigger than ever.

His tongue started lapping you slowly, just drinking in your taste. Yeosang had to stifle a moan when he felt your divine juices coat his lips. Soon, the long laps evolved into fast licks to your clit, making you stir slightly in your sleep. Lewd sounds continued to escape your barely opened lips, your body succumbing to the pleasure of Yeosang’s tongue working wonders.

At this point, keeping you asleep wasn’t one of Yeosang’s concerns. He honestly wouldn’t mind it if you woke up. You deserved to feel this pleasure, and he could tell your orgasm was starting to build even as you kept sleeping, your hips bucking into his face slightly, in a way that was barely noticeable.

As his mouth started sucking on your clit, your little whimpers became moans instead, and Yeosang noticed the way you slowly regained consciousness.

He kept abusing your clit in a way he knew made you weak in the knees, and now, your eyes were opening. Your moans of pleasure got mixed with confused sounds, your mind not comprehending what was going on.

If Yeosang’s mouth wasn’t occupied, he would’ve told you to just enjoy it, to not worry about anything. But now, his only goal was to make you cum, to let you drown in the pleasure of an orgasm. And that, you did.

You couldn’t even think when you felt your thighs clench around his head in desperation, your orgasm washing over you, filling you with bliss. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your legs starting to shake. Yeosang’s skillful tongue was still pleasuring you between your legs as you whined in overstimulation.

You blinked before grabbing Yeosang’s head. He obeyed when you pulled him upward slightly, his head eventually coming up to eye level with you.

“What are you doing—“ you slurred out, still feeling hazy from just having woken up. “Shh,” he hushed, his hands finding your hair. He laid down next to you, humming softly as his hands soothingly rubbed your head.

“It was just a dream…” you heard before slowly drifting into unconsciousness once again.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ever since that night, Yeosang had grown more and more desperate. At this point, one might even call him obsessed.

You had woken up completely clothed, with Yeosang acting completely natural. You felt so disgusted with yourself, having wet dreams of the innocent man who had been nothing but kind to you.

Yeosang smirked when he saw the look on your face that morning, clearly searching his face for any information. You must’ve just thought it was a dream. How cute.

Yeosang knew you felt ashamed, which probably meant you would try to subconsciously ‘make it up to him’ in some way. So one day when you came home from work, Yeosang innocently came up to you with a massage oil he found in your bathroom.

“Let me try…” he said, eyes twinkling with innocence. You couldn’t even deny him, that begging look in his eyes combined with your need for a massage making it impossible.

You were soon splayed out on the bed on your stomach, only a towel covering your private parts as Yeosang’s soft hands kneaded your back in just the right way. Yeosang felt his erection grow as you let out low moans of pleasure, mind wandering back to that night.

That’s when Yeosang first realized, he needed to have you again. He needed to continue worshipping at the altar that was your body.

You felt conflicted about Yeosang’s presence in your home. As much as you found it odd to have this creature in your own home, you had also grown fond of him, finding him more and more endearing for each day that passed.

But for each day that passed, Yeosang felt himself become more and more possessive over you. You were his goddess. No human could ever even begin to understand your importance on this earth, so hearing you talk on the phone with your coworkers, especially those of the male gender, made Yeosang’s skin crawl in disgust.

You were just watching TV one afternoon when Yeosang plopped himself down on his knees in front of you. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but he answered before you could utter the question.

“Please Y/n,” he started, his voice laced with utter desperation. His eyes found yours, before he said words you would never expect to exit his mouth. “Let me taste you again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your head tilting. You didn’t want to realize what he was actually saying.

“That night… It- It wasn’t a dream, Y/n,” he confessed, his eyes continually staring into your wide ones. “I know you enjoyed it,” he continued, his hands starting to explore the length of your legs.

You immediately scooted away from your spot in the couch, breath quickening in panic as you let his words sink in.

“What wasn’t a dream?” you tested him, still refusing to accept it.

“When I tasted you for the first time… Oh, it was so beautiful—“

“You did that to me in my sleep!?” you yelled, scrambling up from the couch and taking a few steps back. Yeosang followed suit, stepping closer to you with a confused expression.

“But Y/n, you enjoyed—“

“Have you done it multiple times?” you asked, voice cracking slightly in panic.

He paused. “Well, yes, but I just wanted to make you feel good—“

You interrupted him with a sharp gasp, your head shaking in disbelief.

“You freak!” you yelled, backing into the wall behind you, feeling disgusted at the man’s previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes widened at your outburst, his eyes already filling with tears. He never wanted it to be this way, he just wanted you to feel good—

As you were about to run past the man, you were harshly grabbed by your waist, almost causing you to fall. You were turned around to find Yeosang on his knees in front of you, clasping on to your body, his face pushed against your thighs.

“Don’t leave me, please,” he begged, his voice telling you that he was already crying. You didn’t know what to make of any of this. You felt intimidated by his steel grip on you, not allowing you to move a centimeter.

“My goddess please, I’ll do anything,” he sobbed. You looked down at him in confusion. “Goddess?” you echoed.

He only sobbed louder at your response, his arms now working to pull you down to his level. You eventually gave in to his pull, allowing yourself to be sat down in front of him on the floor. His arms wrapped around your form, his wings shielding the two of you.

You were stuck.

Yeosang’s tears blended with your own, as his mouth pressed kisses on your cheeks in some attempt at comforting you.

“Stay with me here, forever,” he whispered, hands roaming your body. “My goddess, I’ll do anything.”

You felt suffocated by the warmth of Yeosang’s body pressed against yours with his wings not letting any air into your little cocoon. The longer you stayed in there, the less conscious you became, your body eventually falling limp into Yeosang’s arms from the lack of air, sending you into a deep sleep that you would never forgive yourself for falling into.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You woke up to the feeling of something wet and warm spreading its juices across your nipples, a whine escaping your throat as your eyes found the man responsible.

You viewed as his head lifted from your breasts, his tear-stained eyes meeting yours in a smile you could only describe as disgusting. His lips shined with his saliva, his teeth grazing them ever so lightly. He remained eye contact with you as his lips found your left nipple again, his tongue swirling against it before he sucked on it, making a pop sound when disconnecting from it.

“Good morning beautiful,” he spoke before switching to your right boob, his hand instead playing with the other. You immediately tried to get up, but noticed something restraining you from doing so.

You looked up to the horror of your hands tied to the headboard of your bed, the rope not budging when you tried to harshly pull your arms away. When trying to move your legs, you noticed that they wouldn’t budge either, making you whine in frustration, tears already forming in your eyes.

“Now you can stay here forever,” Yeosang giggled, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, before lowering his head to your chest once again. ”My goddess.”

Masterlist

give me feedback please!! love you guys

[citrinae]

mornings with them.

contents; fluff, suggestive themes. warming up with some bite-sized headcanons. hope you guys enjoy <3

ft. the monster trio | masterlist

here for part 2

⋆ ˚｡༄ luffy

if he’s up before you are, that’s only because of the growling sound coming from his stomach. cross-legged on the bed with a lost look in his eyes, “imma get something to eat.” he’s definitely forgotten about the piles of snacks he keeps in his locker and that he makes sure to restock after each meal with your crewmates. 

i can see him being a cuddly type. really likes to hug you from behind. in bed, while you're standing up, while you're brushing your teeth. if you happen to be the one to wake up first, fetch him some food from the kitchen and you will earn yourself a good series of hugs from your boyfriend. if not, that's ok, because luffy is a biter too, and he will not hold back from digging his teeth into your shoulder to convince you to go to the kitchen with him. this may or may not lead to the two of you enjoying some other type of meal. 

the thing is that luffy, the moment he wakes up, won't stand staying in for too long. especially if you're on land he'll want to explore the surroundings and will try to make you join him on the adventure. knowing how much of a menace he can be objectively speaking you may have no other choice but tag along, but trust me, nothing will make him happier than getting to spend the first hours of the day with his partner in crime <3 

“that was so cool,” he's saying to you as your backs are glued to the wall of a random building, chests heaving. out of the corner of your eye, you can see a group of marines searching aimlessly for your missing shadows. luffy takes you by the hand, “we showed ‘em good.” 

⋆ ˚｡༄ zoro

you wake up first. but you’re never getting out of bed before he would, and that’s in most cases due to the fact that the arms resting around you are too heavy to lift on your own. you tried slipping away once or twice, but he always managed to keep you there. not like you mind it one bit, nestling yourself at your boyfriend’s chest filling you with a strange sense of warmth you wouldn't let go that easily. 

“easy, tiger. what’s the rush?” his voice is sleepy with a guttural undertone to it. “staying in for a minute longer won’t set the ship on fire or anything. proven.” zoro will try to make you two stay in bed with him for as long as possible. you don’t even get a chance to convince him otherwise as he’s quick to fall back into his snooze, and you are usually soon to follow. the second time you open your eyes it’s because of the voices and steps coming from the hallway telling you that you might’ve overslept.

he also likes it when you lazily climb on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, enjoying each other's presence in silence. in the morning, he may not be the best converser. but there are times his hand may roll down your back, taking a good squeeze of your butt with a smirk plastered on his face, and that's when you know you will definitely be late to your chores. 

if you’re on land, he might make it a habit to carry you on his back for a morning jog, the sun unfurling behind your forms as hours roll past. if you’re more the athletic type like he is, he’d gladly have you running by his side. either way, i think starting his daily training with you would work like the perfect energiser for him. although he would never admit it out loud. 

⋆ ˚｡༄ sanji

i find sanji to be quite the early bird, having to set up breakfast for the entire crew and doing some first-hour arrangements in the kitchen and all that, so he wakes up before you do. almost every time. he’s already done with more than half of his chores by the time you open your eyes. when it comes to you, however, breakfast in bed is one of the many tell-tale signs of special treatment, and more often than not you get to wake up to the smell of coffee or favourite tea and a well-thought mix of sweet treats. 

corny is this man’s second language. if you’re on land, expect to see some tiny bouquets of flowers on the tray, either bought or picked from around the ship, everything looking just so dainty and perfect “like you are, my love.” one of them finds its way behind your ear with a sweet peck on your lips. 

and not rarely does he join you with his own cup of tea. leg to leg, your head leaning against his shoulder. a hundred percent the type to smoke in bed. he likes to take a few moments of tenderness with you, gently kissing your shoulder and neck and talking about your plans for the day. sanji will intently listen to you talk about any weird dreams you had, but if you tell him he wasn’t present in any of them he’ll most certainly become a pouting mess. 

he gets handsy quickly 💀 and your thighs are perhaps his favourite spot to feel beneath the sheets. the longer you let him he’s one step closer to skipping cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast. but the moment often shatters with some thuds at the door accompanied by luffy’s voice, all broken and teary, begging sanji to unlock the fridge.