#corporal cramp

[theamazingsaraman]

There’s a traditional folk song called ‘Arthur McBride’ which has the lines ‘Then after resting we both took a tramp/ We met Sergeant Harpur and Corporal Cramp’ and I always thought that would make a great period euphemism.

It would be basically useless to me because I subscribe to the Talk Very Decisively About Periods Without Euphemisms school of thought, but it would just be neat y’ know?: ‘You don’t look very well, are you ok?’ ‘No, Corporal Cramp has come recruiting 😭’

Especially because, in the song, Corporal Cramp gets hit over the head with a shillelagh. I feel like that thought would encourage me in my time off pain.

gang I need your help I have a phrase I really want to catch on and it’s calling any secret or invisible struggle you have a “fight with a gorilla” like the onion article. if they can have cinnamon roll catch on this can too. “yeah she told me about it, I had no idea, sounds like a real fight with a gorilla” “sorry man I can’t come I’ve really been fighting the gorilla lately” do you see the vision

[draganaesfrost]

save me netsed sketches save me

[eris-sol]

hi chip :3

[green-mountain-goose]

i sat through a loooong meeting :<

[caterjunes]

uh oh uh oh gundam oc activated

[gootube]

had trouble coming up with ego equipment for this fella so it remains unfinished but for funsies i made an abnormality page for julipede!

[sunshades]

as misfortune loves orphans, & as the iceberg loves the ship, & the passengers love the lifeboat

[remy-labelle-purple]

.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Beyond the Grave

Danny Fenton gets the surprise of his life when the Justice League accepts a mission in Amity Park.

No, they were there for ghost issues. lt turns out that if people aren't exposed to shock waves of Ectoplasm radiation, they don't get fun side effects like seeing the dead. That's why the town people had called his parents loons up until the portal was open.

There hadn't been enough death energy to make them visible, let alone corporeal enough to touch the human world. Even Danny had thought his parents were chasing an unrealistic dream until that fateful day when Sam convinced him to walk through the portal.

What the Justice League was there to do was stop this company that had been kidnapping meta children all over the country. They had hidden them a little outside Amity Park, where people rarely drove by. Danny had only gone through those back roads twice, and he's lived in Amity Park all his life.

No one had the slightest idea that a secret lab was operating underground, forcing experimentation on children. Danny felt horrible he had missed this, as the self-proclaimed hero of the area, but his expertise was in ghosts. They were pretty straightforward and loud in their evil plots.

Something like this required resources, training, and detective skills that Danny didn't have. What made him feel a little bit better about all this was that Danny had found the children before the Justice League.

He just won't tell them that because it made his own kidnapping rather embarrassing. Somehow, the scientists- if that can even be called that- had detected Danny's hidden powers. While he was busy crawling out of a dumpster- Dash had thrown him in there- a van had pulled up and thrown a collar onto his neck.

Danny was so stunned by the action that he could not stop a taser to the neck in time. His entire body had cramped up, but not before he had sent a burst of energy to the broken security camera, tuning it on and broadcasting the video to Tucker's laptop.

He got a bit better at controlling technology using ectoplasm, especially after the many fights with Technus, and his friend had set up a laptop in a close circuit that could tap into Danny's frequency.

The kidnappers probably thought that they were in the clear when making grabs at meta children since most came from areas that didn't have surveillance. Tucker had gotten home to a three-hour-long video from Danny, clicking it open and spitting out the ramen he was eating when the first few minutes of it was Danny getting educated.

He panicked and called Jazz to ask if his friend had gotten home. When she denied seeing her brother, Tucker contacted Sam and informed her what was happening.

The pair had immediately mobilized, tearing through the city on the hunt for the van. Jazz had joined them after letting her parents know Danny was missing. They had gone straight to the police station to report that their son was gone.

Tucker had sent them the video, claiming it was from a Panic App. The pair had been in the beta stages, which was why no one had such a helpful app, but it was enough for the Fentons to make their case. The police had placed an Amber Alert and had practically locked down the city.

In a small town like Amity Park, getting the people to band together to help each other was relatively easy. Even Flash, the last person to have seen Danny, had called his football friends to get in a car and help them find the youngest Fenton.

Sadly, by then, the scientists had taken Danny well out of the city, even with multiple people calling to place tips on the black van. Four days passed, and with each passing hour, the likelihood of Danny returning home alive grew dimmer.

No one thinks they have ever seen Jazz Fenton cry that much before. Jack and Maddie were on a rampage, tearing through the city for hints of their son. They had even ignored a ghost attacking the mall, too busy stopping every black Sprinter van they could find for clues of their son.

The video was somehow leaked to the public - Tucker and Sam had allowed it to slip into public domains with a scrambled VPN, hoping to get someone to report anything- and this video had made its way to a certain billionaire in Gotham.

Batman had been working the case for months, looking for a pair of twins that had vanished from Daminan's class. They had gotten the boys back, now able to see in the dark as their meta genes had been forcefully unlocked, and realized they were rescued before they were able to get to the primary base.

The only clue the Bats had was a symbol of a two-headed snack on the collars found around the twin's necks. The same collar that had been forced upon Danny Fenton when he was taken in the video.

Bruce had called his co-workers the second he noticed the mark. They had geared up and gone to Amity Park to investigate. Clark, Diana, Billy, and Bruce had arrived at Amity Park in their civilian personas. They came separately to avoid suspicion, hoping to use Billy as bait.

The Justice League was still coming to terms with Captain Marvel being a fourteen-year-old kid, but none could call into question the good work Billy did.

The three had different stories about why they were in the middle of nowhere in Amity Park.

Bruce had been in town to set up a new outreach for the Wayne Foundation. Clark, a news reporter investigating the missing child case of Danny and Diana, had chosen to tour the most haunted cities in the United States for her museum curator.

Like a charm, Billy had gotten the attention of the kidnappers, and only three days after arriving in Amity as a homeless kid, he had been taken. The moment Billy pressed the button on his bracelet, the three were notified that he had been kidnapped.

Clark kept an ear of the van, listening to the bracelet's beeping that no human could pick up. Just in case, the Leauge had embedded a tracker into Billy's left arm, and Bruce had followed it to the secret Lab.

A message to the Watch Tower had backup zapping down in seconds. They waited until nightfall before springing a rescue mission. Flash, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and Vigilanete had been sent in to find and bring the children home while Bruce, Clack, and Diana worked on taking out the guards.

Danny had woken in a test tube with multiple needles and wires digging into his skin, facing a group of superheroes that stared back at him in horror. The last thing he remembered had been the passing cells of meta children before he was taken to a room with a glass tube.

After being shoved into it, Danny was put to sleep with a gas. He had not been conscious for the entire time he was taken. That means he was not awake when the scientists had accidentally caused his heart to flatline.

They had thrown his body into an unmarked grave, intending to bury him with the three other nameless victims. Danny had not been awake when his survival instincts had triggered his shift to Phantom and floated out of the grave.

Like a balloon with helium, Danny had drifted far from the grave, flouting in the wind unconscious due to the gas.

He had awakened for only a few seconds, floating above the road that led to Amity, confused about how he got there. Sadly, the very same van that had just finished burying him had driven down the street, spotting him in the air and choosing to capture the famous Phantom.

They had stolen some Fenton Tech on a stakeout while waiting to take the Fenton Boy and were happy to see it had knocked out the ghost. The men had taken Phantom back to the lab, setting him up in a tube so their scientist could pull out his green blood for tests.

The Justice League had broken in that night. After the raid, Bruce hacked the computers, looking for clues about the missing children. His heart fell to his feet when he read the reports.

The children had died in the experiments. Danny Fenton was on the list of failed experiments, his time of death marked in the conclusion section of a report like he wasn't a young boy who had just finished his first year of high school.

Bruce had only been able to pull himself together long enough to find information about Phantom being held in a deeper part of the lab. Clark, Barry, and Bruce had gone to the lower levels, intending to set the ghost free.

What they found was Phantom in his most basic form. A young ghost with his jumpsuit cut open, showing the same markings the other rescued children bore.

Lichtenberg scars around the neck, torso, and arms.

Phantom had been a new ghost. Bruce and Clark had verified that in their investigations. They had never thought to question what had created him, only that he had appeared a few months ago wearing a hazmat jumpsuit and seemingly unable to leave Amity Park.

The same jumpsuit the other meta children were forced to wear to contain their experiments.

Phantom had been a meta child that had been killed by these people. He was recaptured and placed in a strange ghost coma, leaving the Justice League baffled about how to help him.

Besides blinking, his eyes opened for only a few seconds when he was rescued; he had remained unconscious after muttering, "There are more. Fifty-seven kids....help them, please."

The League had taken him back to their headquarters while working through the labs and digging up the bodies of the other victims. The people involved with this heinous crime had all taken their lives, having snuck a cyanide tablet into their teeth.

None of them faced justice properly, not for the deaths they caused or the angst that Phantom had been dragged into. The ghost had been unable to move on, sticking around even after everything they had done to him.

He had likely been attempting to get help for the remaining prisoners because every place he had attacked had been involved with this lab.

The Justice League would later reveal this information to the horrified townspeople.

Valerie Gray would be throwing up in the bathroom after watching the news. Her father's previous employers had been half on staff with the people who had killed Phantom.

They made a list of potential children to test for the meta gene. She had been on there, and had Phantom not gotten her dad fired when he did, she would have been kidnapped. He saved her life, and she had shot at him in return.

Dash Baxter would be found drinking and sobbing in the school parking lot. He had been drowning in guilt for dragging Fenton behind the mall, where he had thrown him in the dumpster. He had nothing to do with the kidnapping, but he blamed himself nonetheless.

Those people had been attempting to take Fenton for weeks, and he created the perfect opening. Now Danny Fenton was dead by the same people who made his hero. Dash vowed never to bully anyone again, even as Kawn took him home and helped nurse him through his hangover.

Sam Madison and Tucker Foley moved about like zombies. They kept sending messages to someone who would never answer, searching the sky for Phantom's glow, or had their phones on just in case they found Danny. With each uncovered grave, the pair grew hopeful as Danny had not been among the recovered bodies.

People were slightly heartbroken for them. They would wait on a best friend that was never coming home.

Not to mention the Fenton's reaction to Danny's fate. The funeral had been one of the hardest ones any of them had ever attended. The cries of the three remaining Fentons had echoed in their nightmares.

Worse, they had closed their portal. The Fentons had sealed everything to do with ghosts away, no longer able to stand the research now that they knew Phantom had been attempting to prevent Danny's death.

Maybe if they had stopped to try and communicate with him, they might have been able to save their son.

Jack and Maddie were still certified geniuses and were able to fall back on working for Wayne Enterprises as engineers. They moved away, with Jazz looking lifeless without her brother.

People in Amity Park passed by the old Fenton Works sign, never to see it glow again. They also realized that Phantom had vanished, many assuming that now he was at rest due to his murder being solved.

They were unaware he was floating above them in the Watch Tower's medical wing, locked away in slumber.

John Constantine had noticed his ectoplasm levels had not moved since his rescue. For some reason, Phantom's body was not producing it properly like other ghosts- most likely due to experiments they had forced him through.

This caused a coma, with every Justice League Dark member scratching their heads. In every way, Phantom seemed fine, but his core did not react correctly.

It was almost as if it had never been adequately formed, as if Phantom was still alive somehow.

After months of trying to figure out how to stabilize the ghost's core, John contacted a ghost doctor from the Infinite Realms. It took calling in a few favors to get the information, let alone the actual communication with the ghost doctor, but he could do it.

He was a magic expert, not a medic. This was the only chance Phantom had to ever wake.

Thankfully, Frostbite seemed to know exactly what to do when his large eyes landed on the floating figure in the medical incubator the League had placed him in.

He had assured them he could help Phantom but needed to take him back to his hospital to properly treat the ghost. After the Yeti agreed to an Oath Vow stating he would not allow any harm to fall upon Phantom while under his care.

Another agreement of having John present for Phantom's treatment had solidified Justice League into letting the being move Phantom into the Far Frozen.

A year after Danny Fenton's death, Phantom's eyes snapped open to the relieved Frostbite and the beaming trench coat man.

He had never been so confused when the first thing his doctor said was, "Great One, I am sorry to say the humans believed Daniel Fenton has passed while you were in a coma."

Well.

How was he going to bring himself back to life?

[celestialprincesse]

John Price's secretary 💌

John was adamant that he was fine working alone - desperate to convince Laswell that he didn't need help with the mounting paperwork and mission reports piling up on his desk. The last thing he needed was some airhead flitting around base and getting in everyone's way with the sole purpose of lessening his workload. He was a captain, should've been able to file his own paperwork just like the rest of his men.

That's why on your first day, he was no less than brusque with you. You who strode into his office with a polite smile and a practised firm handshake, introducing yourself to him with the obvious statement of your name and position. He couldn't help but immediately think to himself how lovely you were, how out of place the radiance of your smile was in such a dark place as this. His introduction was as gruff as yours was gentle, listing off your duties to you like you didn't already know what they were, a tablet already in hand as you took note of any extra information provided to you with a stiff reluctance, nails tapping away at the screen before you, his calendar already jotted meticulously down to the hour.

"Anything you want me to prioritise?" You chirped warmly, ignoring the way his eyes had already returned somewhat dismissively back to the screen of his desktop. In a way, though, you were almost relieved he wasn't looking at your expression, wasn't looking to see the way your eyes went wide when he pointed at the box of unfilled paperwork stored messily in manila files, dumped on the floor beside his desk, piled so high they leaned. You were sure that even one more piece of A4 thrown on the pile would have the whole thing come tumbling down like depressing corporate Jenga.

The paperwork had you drowning until lunch, heel tapping rhythmically against the linoleum as you stamped off and filed, stamped off and filed, hours crawling by at a snails pace whilst your desk became increasingly cramped for space. The paper overrunning your desk also occupied your mind so much that you didn't notice the tall shadow of John Price looming over you until he cleared his throat, making you jump with a squeaked out "Oh!" and a hand clutching at your chest in surprise.

"Didn't mean to startle you." He rumbled lowly, his warm, apologetic tone making you blush, unintentionally fluttering your eyelashes up at him, an action which causes him to inadvertently ball his fist, trying to hide the appreciative glaze settling over his baby blues. "You haven't eaten." His voice came out softer, trying not to startle you again.

"No. I guess not." You muttered softly in response, torn halfway between staring back up at him and shying away from the intensity of his gaze. "S'pose I got too caught up in all of this." A hand indicating to the paperwork drowning your desk made him chuff out something which sounded pleasantly like a laugh.

"Would you like some lunch?" Had you nodding emphatically in response, not even realising how hungry you'd become in your intense focus.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

The next few months were much the same, paperwork lumped on your desk, working until John came and offered you to join him for lunch. With every meal shared you learned more about him, and with every guiding hand he placed on the small of your back when he walked you to the mess hall, you grew more - appreciative? Your guilty little work crush grew harder to suppress.

It was hard not to be into John Price, with his gruff demeanour and contradictorily soft eyes and gentle hands, you couldn't help it. He was a good, kind man, so different from the others who haunted your past - a fact which you struggled to forget when he'd walk you to your car after working late, occasionally even bringing you coffees on early mornings.

".. You with me?" His voice snaps you from your reverie, his fingers drumming on the wood of your desk, one eyebrow raised in intrigue.

"Sorry?" You murmur in confusion.

"Said I've got a work dinner tonight with some important people. Need you to come along, take some notes for me."

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

[loafgeto]

KINKMAS DAY TWO: AGE GAP WITH SATORU

synopsis | why do you always go to your dad’s workplace? well, to simply drop him off his lunch! but somehow you always end up in his boss’s office.

contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, secret relationship, AGE GAP (reader is in early 20’s while satoru is early 40’s), small mentions of tsumiki and megumi (he’s the same age as reader), implied dilf!gojo. NSFW, semi-public sex (gojo’s office - yet again), dirty talk, praising, somewhat cocky gojo, pet names (use of daddy), implied daddy kink, scratch marks, slight cock warming, slight choking (you just like gojo’s hand around your neck🤗), unprotected sex, cumshots, orgasms, squirting. you and gojo nearly get caught. not proofread !!

word count | 4.6k

notes | oh my lord i’ve never used ‘daddy’ in any of my fics before and i nearly cringed bc i remembered something from a long time ago LMFAOOO i’d call gojo daddy though cuz daddy’s home 🗣️🗣️

tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

your encounter with satoru first happened when your mother requested you to bring your dad’s lunch for him, since he had forgotten it. as any normal daughter would do, of course you’d comply and take the food to your dad, thinking about nothing else but to move along with your day. he just started working under a new organization several months ago, one much larger than his previous corporation and earning a bigger salary.

it was your first time ever in the tall and luxurious building, cramped with busy employees and staff, loud sounds of voices and other noises ringing your eardrums as you navigated through. during that moment, all you knew was that you’re going to get lost, even after several workers by the front desk specifically directed you and gave you a guest pass before returning to their duties. your father message said he was on the ninth floor of the building, so that’s where you venture off to after getting on the elevator.

what was even more astonishing was the complex hallways of the ninth floor. it was awkward for you, arriving at the floor and having absolutely no knowledge of where to go. and while turning a corner, you just so happen to bump into satoru— a man who’d you never thought you’d continue seeing regularly.

at first, it was just a mild attraction. you’ve never seen him before, so you easily mistook him as someone several years older than you. but boy, were you wrong. from your first impression, you presumed satoru as an employee that everyone admired and wanted to be around with, someone who’s confident and playful, sarcastic at times, and enjoys the little things in life. satoru had immediately noticed that you were lost but pretending like you’re weren’t, and he’s teases you about it before inquiring if you need help.

and not wanting to embarrass yourself even more in front of him, you gladly accept the help of this man. and to your luck, satoru happened to know who your dad was, and guided you to the department he was positioned in. and minutes after you met with your dad, was the moment when you found out satoru was your dad’s boss. and that satoru wasn’t even damn close to your age. he was a much older man, almost as old as your own dad. satoru’s voice was raspy, but welcoming with a hint of flirtation. his white hair was natural, glossy blue eyes bright and invigorating enthusiasm like he’s in his 20’s.

you were astonished, embarrassed even to think about the fact you had the hots for him when you immediately saw him. you and your university friends always joked about having an older boyfriend, or a sugar daddy, or someone as old as their own father. you didn’t take it seriously, because you were certain that you’d never get or even find someone close to the age of your dad.

but encountering satoru just so happens to change all of that.

for the next three months, you and satoru often saw each other. your interactions were short, mostly simple hellos and how are yous, nothing more. well, maybe there was more. there was always some sort of intense tension between the two of you: manifesting for you to get close and driving you to want to continue knowing each other better. therefore, this withholding attraction just so happens to lead you to a night with satoru in a bed of a hotel.

obviously, you both agreed to keep your relationship a secret, especially away from your dad. you feel penitent sometimes whenever you hear your dad boast about how amazing satoru is, and how much he’s being promoted and getting recognition for his diligent work. your dad’s an excellent employee, and everyone grew to admire him. but most of his promotions were due to you requesting satoru to do it, well because you want the best for your dad.

and though it’s quite odd to promote a new employee to a high position, satoru still does it— somehow convincing his own bosses to accept your dad’s promotions.

however, your attraction for satoru was fervent and devouring you whole when you were trying to deny such feelings towards him. none of your friends knew about your relationship with satoru, not even your best friend- who you tell everything. he was the same as you, swearing he wouldn’t text or call you anymore and would leave you alone since it’s most likely for the best. his words dagger your heart each time, and it makes you plead for him not. hence, always caused you two to come back to each other. you can never resist the temptation of sending satoru that one message that would lead you to him pounding his heavy cock into you, having you cry for more and grind your body against his.

therefore, your secret relationship then continued for another five months— and well, you’re most definitely certain that you’re in love with satoru. but you’re probably never going to disclose such information, though you’re certain you make it obvious. satoru’s love life was never as fortunate either. his relationship with his previous wife consisted of countless arguments, disagreements and misunderstandings that she couldn’t handle it anymore. but that’s all you know, and you figured he’d probably never get too serious with a 20 year old and just wants to mess around for the fun of it.

so, you’re deciding to take this moment of fun until you both officially come to terms of no longer contacting each other.

your dad’s aware of the bond you and satoru share, but he only thinks it’s because of your similar interests in traveling. whenever satoru is invited to your parents’ home and you’re there, he’d always inform you about his weekend or business trips, encouraging you to go and buying you souvenirs. you both pretend as if you never see each other, but of course, it’s most likely possible that you two were fucking in his car the night before. your dad had never once assumed anything sexual between you and satoru, so you both got away with it perfectly.

today’s another day where you’re dropping off your dad’s lunch. you offered to bring your dad lunch nearly every single day, which allowed your mother to prepare warm dishes for him. and because of your regular visits, nearly everyone on the ninth floor knew about you. they always greeted you, welcomed you with smiles and short taps on the shoulder. most of the men tease your dad, since they wanted their daughters to bring them their lunch too but other than that, no one ever speculates on the other reasons why you’re actually there.

“[name]! you’re here early,” your dad greets you whenever you approach his office desk. he takes a quick glance at the bento box wrapped in your hand and smiles. “i wonder what your mother made for me today. i can already smell how wonderful it is.”

you chuckle. “right? i almost ate it on the way here.”

“are you hungry too? we can share,” your dad replies with a short laugh as you place the bento box down on his desk. “just give me about ten more minutes, sweetie. i’m almost done with my final documents,” he adds on next to which you shake your head.

“it’s alright, dad. i have to get going now anyway. i’m meeting up with several of my friends for a study session, i’ll see you later tonight though,” you reply, smiling before leaning down to peck a kiss on your dad’s cheek. he sighs, disappointed since he always looks forward to sharing his lunches with you but he returns a wide smile.

“okay, my daughter, no problem at all. call me whenever you’re coming over then,” your dad utters, and you nod before saying your final byes and waves.

as you disappear from your dad’s sight, you quietly slip to the restroom nearby. he thinks you’re leaving, but you’re actually not. interestingly enough, this restroom was just right across from satoru’s office, and you always used the area to your advantage in order to sneak into his office. it’s worked countless of times, and you didn’t even notify satoru about coming to see him today, since it wasn’t like you go there everyday.

there wasn’t any employees or anyone else around, so you gently knock on his office door. you wait several moments, before hearing him reply from the other side. “come in.”

twisting the knob and opening the door, you step inside, eyes faltering to satoru.

satoru was sitting behind his desk, eyes riveted on the screen of his computer that he didn’t even look away until he detected your figure in his perception. satoru lifts his gaze, surprised that you appeared unexpectedly and stands from his chair. “[name], what are you doing here?” he questions.

“oh, you know- just dropping off my dad’s lunch like always. surprise?” you reply, almost with a giddy attitude as satoru approaches you. he shuts the door behind of you, clicking it locked before pressing his hand on your back to pull you close to him.

“you should’ve called or texted me that you were coming,” satoru pouts, leaning in for a kiss but you turn your head, rejecting his lips and furrow your brows. satoru chuckles, “no kiss today?”

“if you give me a kiss, you know where it’ll lead to.”

satoru smiles, now pressing your body close to his. “i know, princess. but just one? been missing you since yesterday after you left,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear that it’s almost hard to resist not crashing your lips onto his.

it’s addicting— satoru and his tender voice, words pulling you in like a magnet and making your heart flit in motions you couldn’t control. you shift your eyes slightly, meeting his gaze before pouting. “i’m guessing that’s a yes then,” satoru smiles wider before leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against yours.

your hands reach behind satoru’s back, nudging into the material of his blazer as he deepens the kiss, holding your body against his. your eyes close shut, lips hungrily moving with satoru’s, and a moan quietly escapes when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. he groped the side of your ass with a hand, gently caressing the fat underneath your denims.

“sa-satoru..” you quietly utter as he breaks the kiss, lowering his lips against your jawline and down your neck. “n-no more..”

“you sure, angel? sounds like you don’t want me to stop though,” satoru purrs, pulling his face away to directly look down at you again. a faint smirk appears on his lips as he drags his thumb over your lips. “we only saw each other for twenty minutes yesterday, ‘nd i wasn’t able to return the favor for you. let me do something quick, yeah?”

satoru’s words are alluring, and you find yourself nodding your head before you even realized it.

whatever satoru meant by ‘doing something quick’, just so happens to steer towards you being stuffed with his cock and riding him while he sits on his chair. you’re both completely naked, clothes discarded around his office’s floor, moans muffled behind of your lips as you slowly rock your hips, moving against the length of his hard member. satoru’s holding his moans too, dick throbbing from the feeling of your gummy walls pulsating and tightening around him.

“you really gotta stop coming here, princess. i’m out of condoms because of you,” satoru speaks softly, a low grunt following after as he feels you squeeze around him when you glide your hips up. initially, satoru wouldn’t have done this because he’s out of protection, but hearing your whiny voice and seeing your desperate expression granted the acceptation of going raw. “b-but you’re the one who-“ you start, pausing when satoru bucks his hips, jerking his cock deep in your aching hole.

“i was the one who what?” satoru repeats with a smug smile, both hands holding the sides of your hips. you squirm, unable to reply at that instant, feeling intense rushes of ecstasy flowing in your veins. “you’re blaming me for this?”

“no..” you finally respond with a short squeal, bouncing your hips faster on his cock. most of the time when you two are having sex, it’s with a condom and you never feel the bare skin of his dick unless it’s in your mouth. but whenever it’s inserted warm and hard into your pussy, you just become an entirely different person— drunk all over him and moving like you’re trying to milk him dry. “‘ts my fault, ‘toru. shouldn’t have c-come here..”

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have, but i’m glad you did,” satoru replies, eyes lowering to where you two connected. his cock twitches each moment he watches your folds spreading just to fit him, his girth getting coated by your slickness and clenched by your overbearing neediness. “can never get tired of my cock, no?”

“never!” you mewl out, your fingertips prodding into the flesh of satoru’s shoulders. your moans pitch louder, nearly resonating the room along with the wet squelching noises of your pussy grinding against satoru’s cock. it’s filthy to hear, but you loved it. “love, love, your cock s’much..”

“you gotta be quiet princess, these walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru groans quietly, slapping your ass as you proceed to bounce your hips. of course, you’re aware of that, you always are but you can’t refrain yourself from moaning like that. especially when satoru’s bare cock is rubbing into you so perfectly, making you reach an orgasm.

“satoru, satoru- please-“ you cry out his name repeatedly, but he quiets your lips by pinning his against yours, having your moans fall into his mouth instead. you know you need to tone your voice down, especially when there’s high chances of people walking outside of satoru’s office. the only benefit of fucking in his office was that there wasn’t any windows peering out to the hall. however, even if these walls were thick enough, satoru knew you’d both get caught eventually because of how loud you’re moaning.

but satoru couldn’t deny the way he loves hearing you utter his name so affectionately and erotically when you’re pleading for more. it makes him feel like he’s special, like he’s being gifted by something no one else can receive from you. you’re so different from his previous partners, it always makes him ponder how he even found himself in a situation with a college girl. he’s not complaining though, not after reaching this far with you. satoru’s thoughts process towards an end when his smirk grows wider because of your cunt fluttering around him, making him realize you’d reach your orgasm.

“‘toru.. please.. want you to fuck me, please,” you whine, pushing your hips down to feel his cock spread your sensitive walls once more. you’re almost rocking against him again before he firmly holds you, smiling at how needy you already became even after orgasming.

“you wouldn’t want your father to know that you’re fucking his boss, do you—?” satoru tilts his head, as he brings one hand to softly thumb the skin underneath your eyelids. “or maybe you do, that’s why you’re begging for me like this.”

“no, no, i don’t. please, satoru- i’ll be quiet, i promise,” you frown, trying to convince him with your sheepish voice. but you both know that wasn’t bound to occur. with the way satoru thrusts his hips, it’s unlikely you’d stay quiet even with something covering your mouth. you bite your lower lip, trying not to move your hips as you cockwarm him for a little while. he gives you an expression of consideration, a small and sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

“fine. but on one condition.”

your eyes seem to light up, and nodding your head, you’re indicating that you’ll do anything if it meant satoru fucking you.

“you’ll have to call me daddy,” satoru blurts the condition, raising your body to press you down against his desk, knocking several small objects off the surface and making them roll on the ground. you breathe a small gasp, glancing up at him with a large set of eyes. “am i seeing this as a no?”

you shake your head at an instant, pulling him close by the neck. “n-no.. i’ll say it,” you reply quietly, swallowing lightly.

“hmm?”

“da-daddy… please, i want your cock..” you plead once again, almost breaking gazes with him because of how flustered you felt. you never uttered such name in a sexual setting before, but maybe you’ll start to like it, the way satoru is.

satoru has you in the mating press position, pressing your thighs down close to the cold top of his desk as he pushes his cock past your folds and starts thrusting his hips. your breathy moans starts plummeting fast and it’s just as you thought before, you’re unable to refrain them back. especially with the angle of your g-spot satoru’s cock is scraping against, driving you back towards another orgasm and stirring your core.

“n-ngh- fuck!” you cry, eyes shutting as your hands begin to claw the skin of satoru’s back.

“you really want to get caught, don’t ya?” satoru chuckles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts and feeling your cunt squeeze around him. just as long as everyone outside was occupied and not paying too close attention, you two would most likely be fine. but your voice seems to be pitching higher each moment, potentially drawing others to become curious on what’s happening in this room.

“no! i-i don’t, ‘m sorry, daddy- i’ll really quiet down,” you manage to choke out as he’s gradually pounding into you, heavy balls smacking against your wet vulva. satoru groans quietly, murmuring low explicit words as his fingertips prod the flesh of your thighs. you press your palm over your lips, hoping that’d help your moans stop from reaching further out to the other side of satoru’s office door.

“is my good girl sure ‘bout that? sure she can keep quiet while being fucked by my cock?” satoru grunts, lifting one of his hands to wrap around your neck. he gently presses against your throat, smirking at how you’re covering up your moans even though they’re still audible beneath. well, how can you now when he’s saying that name to address you?

honestly, satoru lost the amount of times he’s fucked you like this. he still remembers the first time— when you both encountered each other in front of a convenience store one late friday night. you were returning home from a college party, while he just finished completing paperwork. surprisingly, you weren’t as drunk as satoru expected, since most college students partied hard. even though you weren’t drunk, you acted like it. stumbling your words, averting your gaze from his, appearing flustered each moment he neared you. there was no stench of alcohol on you, and he speculated you were directing towards something else. however, he didn’t assume further until you two neared a hotel. you seemed to have noticed the building and it must’ve triggered a nerve, as satoru shortly finds your lips pressing on his. you admitted how you wanted him, and that was all when it started.

such a young and horny adult yearning for the touch of an older man. when you two fucked the first time: your cunt openly took in his thick length, your walls opening to fit around him perfectly— such a young pussy satoru never thought he’d have his cock stuffed in. the way your quiet moans quickly turned into loud ones, voice crying out his name until you no longer couldn’t.

satoru had never felt attracted to a younger woman before, specifically one who’s still in college and younger than his own daughter. you were even the same age as his son, megumi. satoru figured you’d probably affix your attraction towards him, but he shortly realizes how you completely disregard the boy, even when megumi showed interest in you under his stoic demeanor.

just what was so special about satoru that made you stay around him?

“fucking around with a man as old as your dad, aren’t you ashamed?” satoru questions, his hand still wrapped around your neck before he pushes your hand away to insert his thumb into your mouth. your tongue instantly swirls around his finger, eyes nearly rolling back because of how rough satoru’s thrusting. “it’s ‘cause i fuck you good, don’t i? that’s why you’re always coming around.”

“n-no, that’s not true!” you cry out, your throat moving against his palm. “then what about you? a-aren’t you messing with someone as old as your daughter?” you repeat the question, making him hiss slightly.

“what if i said i’m not ashamed?” satoru decides to answers, short groans following as he fastens his thrusts, making you wince louder. “if i was, i wouldn’t be doing this with you, y’know. it may be wrong, but it feels right.”

“‘toru—“ you whine, tears welling your eyes as you’re unable to formulate the proper words to respond to him. but they dagger you in the heart, making it pound heavily, flourishing your ears. in this sense, you believed in satoru’s words and you also felt the same he did. “i love you, i love you, satoru,” you manage to chant out.

those three words were something satoru’s never expected to hear from you and for some reason, it switches something in him. he knows why and what it is: he loves you too. he’s just been too afraid to admit it ever since his first marriage failed, claiming that there’s no curse worse than love. satoru claims it’s utter bullshit, that there’s no need for such emotions because of what it can do to a person. but when satoru met you— you just happen to change it all for him.

“f-fuck..” satoru grunts, holding your jawline before kissing you harshly. he’s still thrusting, sensually and rough, pace quickening as he’s nearing his orgasm. “mm- i’m always around you- because i love you, ‘toru!” you repeat again when your lips parts. your mind somewhat was becoming foggy, yet these words are able to slip out casually, but it’s genuine and that’s all you need to get your reason across.

“i love you too, [name]. sososo much,” satoru replies as your lips meet again, your tongues passionately grinding together. his thrusts become harder to the point his desk is shaking and slightly moving to another position. his lips move down to your neck, peppering soft kisses before he whines in your ear. “fuck it. scream all you want, baby. let your dad and everyone else hear how much we love each other.”

your pussy clenches around him at his words. it’s arousing to think about, to imagine other people outside listening to an older man relentlessly fuck his cock into you. you’re already staining satoru’s desk with your arousal, both of your moans mixing with the wet sounds from where you two connected becoming louder that it’d probably be audible from the hall.

“i—i’m cumming.. oh god-“ you can’t fathom how many times satoru has already made you orgasm, you’ve lost track. your body’s sensitive and quivering with the amount of pleasure flowing through your veins. it’s overwhelming, however it feels absolutely amazing.

satoru’s rough drags with his cock has you nudging your nails into the skin of his back once more, leaving long red scratch marks visible on his pale skin. you’re both close, warm bodies chafing against each other’s as time slowly rolls forward. maybe you two didn’t know that there were several people outside of satoru’s office, unbeknownst to what was happening on the other side.

“don’t forget the name, princess. c’mon, let me hear it.”

“daddy!” your cry of pleasure echoes off the walls, it’s incomparable to the sound of his cock ravaging your cunt, plunging deep towards your womb. “a-are you gonna cum, daddy? please cum inside me.”

“y’know, i can’t do that, angel,” satoru grunts, lifting your body off the table and propping you up with his firm hold. he’s never given you a creampie before, out of concern of you getting pregnant since the chances were still much very high despite his age. but seeing how you’re always so desperate for one just makes satoru want to forget the consequences at least once and do it.

“please— ‘toru- ngh, daddy, please!” you whine out, feeling him piston hard into you when you uttered his name. your moans are messy, his thrusts are sloppy and wet, and whoever else is outside is probably aware of what’s happening. but you two couldn’t care about the world, thoughts only occupied with each other’s embraces and passion. “please don’t pull outtt!” you cry next, sucking his cock into your cunt.

but he doesn’t listen to you and pulls out anyway.

“fuck, i’m cumming,” satoru groans before his warm load shoots on your lower belly, and your ejaculation follows next, squirting all over him, parts of his desk and the floor.

gaspy breaths were only heard between you and satoru as he sets you back on the desk, your forehead pressing against his bare chest. you can hear the vibrations of his heart, pounding softly beside your ear as one of his hands reach to hold the back of your head. the moment feels rather romantic, and you couldn’t help but recall to the moment he said he loves you too.

it sends roiling signals to your core and your eyes search for satoru’s face as he was cleaning up the mess on your lower belly. “‘toru..” you whisper softly and he raises his gaze.

“yes?” he replies.

there were no more words uttered when your lips meet his, ever so gently and endearing. you feel satoru smile within the kiss as he pulls your chest close to his. it’s romantic, more than anything you’ve felt before. was this what it was like being in love with an older man? or just, gojo satoru in general?

a knock shortly interrupts you and satoru, causing the two of you to drift away and turn towards the door.

“um.. sir, are you alright in there?”

the voice belonged none other than to your father.

you panic, turning to satoru who shakes his head, indicating for you to remain silent. he keeps a calm expression through all this. satoru then remembered about a small group meeting he needed to attend, but forgot about it due to your arrival. he sighs, “i’m fine. just got distracted a little, please go to the room. i will be there shortly.”

“understood,” your father replies, before quiet hurries leave the other side of the door.

it’s silent again, but just to make sure no one else was still out there, the two of you quickly cleaned up and redressed in your clothes. satoru takes a quick peek into the hall, sighing when there wasn’t anyone around anymore. but that didn’t mean that no one didn’t hear what was happening inside of his office. satoru’s certain that your dad’s aware about him sleeping with someone, but that someone he didn’t know was you. from now on, it’s going to be riskier. but satoru couldn’t stop himself anymore. he returns to you, watching as you were slipping on your shoes.

“you free tonight?” satoru questions, a small grin on his face for a hopeful yes.

“i’m going to my parents’ for dinner tonight,” you reply, approaching him and tiptoeing to give him another quick kiss on the lips. “well.. i mean, i’m free after that though.”

satoru’s eyes burn with excitement, and he wraps his arms around you once more. “come to my house afterwards then. megumi’s out with his friends for the night so it’ll just be you and me,” he explains, lowering his face near yours. “we can have a nice dinner. talk and do whatever. that sound good to you?”

“sounds more than wonderful,” you reply, giggling softly.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: happy early birthday to my one and only gojo satoru 😴 i should’ve published on his bday but i already have my dates set up UGH it’s ok. hope you guys enjoyed this! once again i was just rushing with the end, LMAO. no pt. 2 for this!! but definitely more dilf/older man gojo fics in the future :P likes and reblogs are always appreciated! thanks for the love and support

[messenger-of-babel]

Dillon and Kitty

Summary: You take Dick home to the farm for a breath of fresh air. It's perfect, but there's something weighing on his mind. (Dick Grayson x fem! reader)

Word Count: 3.5K

Notes: A little self indulgent, I'm homesick and got hooked listening to country again so this popped out. I loved writing country reader (but that might be the self indulgence hehe) I might make some others in the same theme. Reader wears a dress and is alluded as female, no other warnings tonight.~ Second to last post of this challenge, I didn't think I'd even get this far. Thank you for your support so far. 🥺🥺

Also for anyone wondering- the title is a reference from Gunsmoke, an old western. I got reminded of it while listening to Toby Keith and in the show Dillon and Ms. Kitty have this 'will-they-won't-they' relationship that tugged at my heart so I put a bit of that ache in there too. 🫣🫣

Enjoy Sweethearts~! xx

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You loved being out of the city. You loved being back in the sky for once, and the fact that you could walk away to a quiet spot in your house and not be bombarded with the sounds of cars and arguments on the city streets. You'd gladly trade your heels for a pair of work boots if you could, give your father another pair of hands on the farm. You could take your coffee under the big oak tree by the back porch that had seen you and your siblings break bones and scrape skin, instead of the cramped fire escape that was covered in rain more often than not.

You might have only gone back for a small holiday, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that wondered just 'what if' you did come back. You know that your mother would fuss over it happily, and your father would grumble but not protest. They had sent you away to have a better chance at life, so that you could go wherever your dream wanted to take you. You weren't sure how dream like Gotham could be, with its bleak skies, crime, and constant bustle. Your friends who still lived out by here laughed at you, but you knew that if you had never left, you never would have made your dream come true.

More accurately, you would have never met the man of your dreams, Dick Grayson.

You had both run into each other at a charity event, something you had gotten to attend through your degree in place of your professor. You felt out of place in the ballroom, filled with the rich and elite. You were no stranger to the upturned noses and lingering stares of city folk when you came in to shop with no time to change, still in your work clothes and with dust covered skin. However, being regarded like you were tracking mud across the polished floors when you were in your finest, was new. You knew these events were a big deal, everyone trying to get a ticket to the famous Bruce Wayne's extravagant gala, to taste the high life for a night.

You would be lying if you said that you hadn't been interested in the concept, the high-class events that seemed to be something out of a fairytale. No one would’ve blamed you for wanting to look inside, except the other party guests it seemed. You weren't dressed in anything racy, renting out a modest dress that matched the jewellery you had. Your roommate had done your makeup for you, and you did your hair yourself. You knew that you cleaned up nice, but it appeared that the country air clung to you still.

Socialising had become a nightmare, with people hesitant to even talk to you. The ones that did wavered in confidence when you said that you were still a student, your professors name doing little to ease their worries. You had no family name to shield you, no massive corporation at your back. You quickly realised that they weren't talking to you, because you couldn't do something for them. Even though you had no intent on working with rich assholes like them, the feeling of being useless quickly crept into the back of your mind. So much so, that you were stuck in that thought until you roughly collided with someone, and felt the barely sipped glass of champagne you cradled spill all the way down the front of your dress.

"I'm so sorry," are the first words that come out of your mouth, hands flying to the other person. You look up, hearing a soft chuckle and the blood drains from your face. Dick Grayson, the first adopted son of tonight’s host. He must recognise the panic on your face, because he laughs quietly and wraps a large palm around the crook of your elbow and pull you to the side. You expect to get scolded, but he takes you to a corner away from prying eyes and pulls out his pocket square.

"Here, use this." he says softly, smile on his lips. You take it after an apprehensive second, beginning to dry the fabric the best you can. "I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, that's completely on me." he says, eyes crinkling with worry. You shake your head in protest, swallowing hard.

"No, no, I wasn't either. Did I get your suit?"

He holds his hands up, "No, no, you're fine. Didn't get a drop on me." he smiles. "So don't worry." his eyes flit back down to the stain creeping across your front. He winces studying the wet patch. "Can I replace the dress for you?" he offers. "Get you a new one as an apology."

You shake your head violently, mind racing. He said is so casually, as if it was loose change to him.

"Oh, no. This isn't even my dress, it's a rental." you wave him off. "I'll just get it dry cleaned, and if that doesn't work, I'll just pay the fee. It's nothing for you to worry about."

His head tilts slightly to the side, strands of ebony hair tickling his forehead.

"You don't own the dress?" he asks, and your shoulders slump. You nod, expecting him to turn up his nose. The wealth in this single room made your head spin, and you watched his face. he was going to shrug you off and take his pocket square back, re-emerge into the sea of glittering people with silk lined pockets.

"It looks like it was made for you."

That makes your eyes widen and your cheeks burn with heat. He lets a pearly grin slip forward, making little lights dance in his eyes mischievously.

"Thank you." you stutter out, hands smoothing down the fabric.

"At least give me your details," he persists. "I'll pay for the dry cleaner and the fee if it comes to that. It was my fault, don't worry."

You smile hesitantly, mind wandering. Was he going to hold this over your head? Make you pay him back with favours that cost you more than you could afford?

"But I do have a favour to ask."

There it was.

He must have sensed the tension in your shoulders and the flicker of fear that ran across your face, because he raised his hands and softened his expression. "Feel free to say no of course."

You make your mouth move, tone hesitant. "What is it?"

"You wear it on our first date."

Your jaw drops open a little wider in shock, and a shit eating grin spreads across his face. You give a single, stunned nod and he beams wider. "Excellent. I'll be in touch. I'd stay longer, but Bruce will be insufferable if I disappear and make him handle all those vultures alone. I hope you can understand." he sends you a sympathetic and sheepish gaze, keeping eye contact with you as he drifts away into the crowd.

Two days later when you went to pick up the dress from the drycleaners, it was gone. You had panicked, calling the store to apologise, but oddly enough they couldn't find the dress in their system anymore. Tired from a long day of chasing, you found a tied package at your apartment door. Unwrapping the paper on your bed, you couldn't help but smile pulling out the dress you wore to the gala, freshly cleaned. Alongside it was a navy jewellery box, carrying a matching necklace. The piece of paper inside was written in a hastily scrawled handwriting, messier than you'd have expected from his pedigree.

I told you the dress was made for you. Call me to make plans.

-Dick

That had started the beginning of your relationship with the man who cheered you on relentlessly while you chased your dream. You called home so often that your mother had fallen in love with him too without even meeting him, while your father grew continually irritated with the way Dick's name became a household one without ever setting foot on the property. So, after a year of dating and having gone to meet his family multiple times (where upon meeting Bruce, you could tell where Dick had adopted many of his mannerisms) he was finally coming to see the place where you had grown up.

The second your car had rolled through the gates and hit park; your younger siblings were running towards you at full pelt. Correction, Lacey, your pocket rocket ten-year-old sister threw herself at Dick for a hug, while your quieter teen brother, Marcus watched from the porch.

"Are you Dickie?" Lacey had all but shouted at him, making him look at you. You stifled giggles behind your hand as he looked down at her, gently pulling her off before crouching. "You must be Lacey?" he asked with the soft smile he reserved for kids. She giggled and grinned at you, beaming.

"He knows my name!" she squeals, before giving you a big hug herself.

You laugh and send her back to your brother who was keeping his distance, sending a shrug to Dick as you go to unload the car. You can hear the fly screen rattle and the voices of your parents, signalling the start of a very active dinner. "Welcome, city boy." you smirk at him, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. He pulls you close and kisses you back, hand cradling your neck before he parts.

"Good to be here." he smiles.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The week had flown by and he had settled in well, while your body fell back into your old routine like clockwork. Your father had been sceptical of Dick at the beginning, but Dick had proven himself rather quickly, offering to help out. He wasn't afraid to get dirty, he didn't tear up or complain when he got a scrape or a bruise. Often times it was your mother that would fuss over him when he came into the kitchen sporting a new bump or injury, and he'd look down with surprise like he hadn’t even felt it. He was good with Lacey and even quiet Marcus warmed up to him, spending his afternoons in the stables with Dick showing him how to care for the horses. The horses were the animals Marcus had loved ever since he was a child, and when Marcus let Dick saddle up one of his to take a small ride around the paddock, you knew he was part of your family now.

You couldn’t deny that he looked good in work gear, it was like a weight was off his shoulders. His eyes seemed clearer; soul less burdened. It was only when he came out to meet your family that you realised he his lips naturally curved downwards in Gotham, his eyes blue as the sky but lost in someplace further than the horizon he stared out at. He looked good in denim and with reigns in his hand, gentle with the horse as he caught your gaze and steered her over to you. He was in a spare pair of work boots your quickly growing brother no longer fit, and a sweat broken work hat on his head. You had to stop the tingle in your hand and cheeks catching sight of him like that. When he looked at you, you finally felt like his eyes were looking at you.

"Hey, handsome." you call, pushing off from the paddock fence. "I see you've made a good impression on Marcus."

He grins down at you, dismounting swiftly like he had been riding all his life. "He's a good kid." he smiles, and you kiss his cheek.

"Come on, dinner's almost ready." you say sweetly before turning to your younger brother, still on his horse. "And that goes for you too, mister!" you holler, making Marcus flip you off in the distance.

"Teens." you grumble, making Dick laugh as you head to the stables.

You help Dick unsaddle, making sure the tack is put away properly. You look over at him, frowning softly as you see the expression on his face. It's the same shadow he wears in Gotham, the weight of something invisible constantly pressing down on him. "Hey, you okay?" you call with a kind smile, making him look up quickly. You don't see the phone in his hand that he slips back into his pocket, only the tight grin he sends back to you.

"Yeah, fine."

You walk back to the house in silence, and your mother already has dinner waiting for you. Everyone proceeds as usual, but you can't help looking at Dick seated across from you, with a soft frown on your face. He seems out of it, and when he meets your eyes it's guilty. The tension is thankfully not felt by other members of your family, allowing you to follow him when he slips out.

You find him in your childhood bedroom, where you've both been sleeping. "Hey, you okay?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe. he has his back to you, fiddling with something in his pocket. What he says next steals the breath from your lungs.

"I can't do this."

It's like the rug has fallen out from beneath your feet you and you straighten yourself quickly, closing the door behind you so no one can hear your conversation. "Dick?" you ask, softly, heart racing. "What do you mean?"

He sighs and turns to you, eyes normally so bright now swirling with emotion. "I think...I think we should break up." he says, voice barely pushing the words out.

"You don’t mean that." you shake your head, hand coming to your temple. This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. "Why? what's wrong?"

"I just...I have something I need to do back in Gotham. I can't...I can't give you the life you want. I don't think we'll work out." he sends you an apologetic smile like your eyes aren't filling with tears, lip wobbling.

"What made you think that?" you ask, trying to hold it together. To not let your emotions control you and push him further away. "Was it...Was it my family? This life?"

"No, no, nothing like that." he says hurriedly. "I just think, god-" he runs a hand through his hair, sucking his teeth. "I just don't think we're compatible."

"And it took you until meeting my family for you to say that, huh?" you say, arms crossed and unable to hide the hurt tone. He winces, wringing his hands.

"I have to go." he says softly.

"Why?" you demand again, voice raising. "God damn it, Grayson, you can't just tell me you want to break up suddenly. That's not fair. Tell me. Tell me if it's something I did. You've been distracted on your phone, just tell me if it's work or another woman-" you cut yourself off when you see him grimace and your breath stops in your throat. You hadn’t been serious when you said that. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He raises his hands in defence, making you scoff. "Please, listen." he pleads, making your blood rush to your head.

"You've actually been talking to another woman? Are you kidding-"

"It's just Babs, I swear-"

"Barbara Gordon?" your voice shrilly rings at the mentions of his ex. "Oh yes, because texting your ex-girlfriend makes me feel so much better." you spit, holding your hand out. "Be honest for once. S how me." You seethe, and after a hesitant moment he unlocks his phone and places it in your hand with a defeated sigh. You swipe to his messages, heart shattering as you read her contact’s name still with an orange heart beside it.

"There's something I need help with. You need to come home."

You hate reading how readily he replied, running back to his ex the second that she says she needed him. the way she called him home, like he hadn't been with you so naturally you even had the audacity to think that maybe he could find a life here too. A home. Somewhere peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle and having to constantly be on his guard. To be able to steal kisses under the shine of the stars instead of the invasive flash of the paparazzi.

He takes the phone from you, unable to meet your eyes. Dick doesn't feel like he deserves to.

His heart breaks as he walks past you, shoving his things back into the bag he packed. He can feel the hurt radiating off you, making his own heart break. He wants to tell you that he hasn't been talking to Barbara, not that way at least. That he did love you, with every part of him. He loved your family. He loved the gruffness of your dad and the way he'd check in on Dick periodically, grumbling about him being a city kid but still making sure he didn't get too banged up. He loved your mothers cooking and let Lacey play with his hair. He loved Marcus and his passion for his animals. He loved you.

He loved you in finery he bought you and he loved you with dust in your hair and callouses on your hands. He loved you in jewellery and he loved you in chaps, loved you in heels and the dirt caked work boots. That's what he told himself, but if he was breaking your heart this way, he wasn't sure if he was ever truly able to love you.

 If he loved you as much as he fooled himself, he wouldn't be leaving with no explanation, wouldn't be breaking your heart at your parents’ house, your safe place. If he loved you, he would tell you that he was Nightwing, and he would never be able to come out to the countryside with you. That he had a duty in Gotham that had him risking his life every night.

He wished he could tell you who he was, and he yearned to. When he looked into those heartbroken eyes of yours, he wanted to take you into his arms and spill his heart out and kiss you stupid. He wanted to tell you everything, about him, his family, about Bruce. But he couldn't, his own lips freezing in fear. His throat bobs as he swallows harshly, looking down in guilt. "Alfred is bringing the car. He'll be here soon." he says softly.

The words he really wants to say is:

Please love me. Please don’t hate me. Please forgive me.

He grabs the last of his things and pushes past you before the burning to comfort you overtakes his logical mind. He knows he has to go back. Indulging himself in you and your sunlight was something that he couldn't afford. He couldn't afford you to get hurt, to get wrapped up in his world. It was a first for him dating a civilian, and he was terrified. That fear built up over in his mind, and he knew it. He knew he should give you a chance, but it was the safer option, the lesser of two evils. He could suffer the pain of losing you, or he could suffer the pain of you finding out who he was and hating him.

His heart shatters as he hears the sob of you, beginning to break down as he leaves.

He passes the faces of your family, curious but silent. He feels their eyes follow him, a brand of shame tracing him and his path out. The cold is biting, nipping at his skin but he doesn't feel it. All he can see in his mind's eye is you undoubtably being comforted by the worried hands of your mother, crying out in heartbreak and not even getting to know why.

By the time that Alfred arrives, he can see the silhouette of your family on the porch, Marcus and your father. He can hear your father yell at him as he gets into the car, but he can't make out the words as he shuts the door and Alfred begins to roll away. He slouches against the door, head in his hands. Alfred looks back, studying him.

"Did you tell her, sir?" Alfred asks softly, the older man's fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Dick had promised that he'd tell you, let you make your own decision before continuing to be involved with him. Alfred liked you and had reassured Dick countlessly that you would likely be nothing but accepting is he did reveal his secret identity. yet as he stares at the slumped man in the rearview mirror, a pang of disappointment shoots through his heart as he pieces together what's happened. Dick tries his best to stop the tears, but they prickly to the forefront anyway.

"No. But there's nothing left to tell her." Dick mumbles defeatedly, staring out the window with dull eyes.

but there was, three little points he never got out of his mouth.

I'm Nightwing.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

[lilacliquors]

kinktober day twenty eight: cockwarming

pairing: logan howlett x reader

word count: 545

notes: happy day twenty eight! ngl this one fought me a lil bit since i didn't know how i wanted to write it. but it's here and it's soft boyfriend logan kinda based on the beginning of x-men origins and i hope you enjoy <3

it just had to be when you were on a phone call. and it wasn’t just any phone call, it was one with your supervisor, while you were requesting the day off. and why were you requesting the day off? 

logan howlett, that was why.

“c’mon, it’s one day. as far as i can tell, you’ve had perfect attendance,” he’d said, his voice gravelly with sleep as he planted kisses on the back of your neck. it made you squirm, and he knew just how to press those buttons to get what he wanted from you.

“yeah, but one day becomes two, then three, then i’m fired,” you argued, though even that sounded like a weak retort.

“they won’t fire you for a day off. you know you deserve it, since you work too damn hard,” he continued, his hand trailing over your thigh and along your side, his fingers gentle caressing just under your breast. he heard your breath hitch, and he knew he almost had you right where he wanted you. he wasn’t always clingy in the mornings, and when he was, he normally chose weekends. but something in him that day just wanted you to stay in the warmth of your bed, in the warmth of his embrace. he wanted you all to himself, and he’d be damned if the corporate world took you away for eight hours.

and that was how you ended up on the phone with your supervisor, but with one little catch, one that you honestly should have seen coming: his cock had been gently sheathed inside of your pussy, and his body was pressed firmly to yours. he continued to pepper kisses along your shoulder, which made you shiver, then in turn, you would become aware of the feeling of him inside of you, which made it hard to focus. it was a vicious cycle, and he knew it.

“y-yeah, i’m just not … not feeling the best,” you muttered, trying to make yourself sound as ill as possible.

“really? i’m so sorry to hear that. you seemed perfectly healthy yesterday,” they replied, and your breath hitched as he shifted a bit.

“uh … uh, yeah, no, i think … think i ate something spoiled last night. boyfriend didn’t check the label before the cooked,” you said, then hissed as he playfully nipped your shoulder in response.

“well, you don’t sound great. definitely sounds like you’ve got some cramps going on. look, i’ll let you go, you get some rest, and hopefully, we’ll see you in tomorrow,” they said, and you felt yourself nodding, even though they couldn’t see it.

“thanks so much,” you said, then hung up as quickly as you could.

“see? wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmured, kissing your jaw.

“oh my god, you be quiet,” you replied, and he chuckled against your skin, his teeth grazing over it.

“hey now, be nice, or we’ll stay like this all day, and i won’t move a fuckin’ inch,” he taunted, making you sigh and squeeze his hand.

“i’m always nice, what are you talking about?”

“mhm, sure you are. now, let me enjoy this. we’ve got a lot more free time on our hands than usual, and i’m gonna make the most of it.”

[ohsunnyboy]

stopping me now | jung sungchan ˚₊‧⁺˖

early mornings, bitter coffee and jung sungchan, all staples of your office life until one morning goes wrong just right

TAGS: office!au, gn!reader, romcom type of vibe, forced proximity, strangers to lovers, sorta mutual pining, awkward!reader who is rly intense abt their spreadsheets

A/N: office au is my fav au so sungchan in one is my ultimate self-indulgence! sorry it's been a while :] (first riize fic let's goooo)

WORDS: ~1950

Jung Sungchan is missing.

Ding! 

You don't actually know each other. Counting the months, it's been almost a year of standing in silent acknowledgement within this tiny elevator. In fact, you shouldn't even know his name! You only managed to find it out when he dropped his lanyard when you two were clocking out, and you picked it up for him, but he only blushed, yelped his thanks and ran!

Was he hiding unapproved invoices? was his department over budget? you swear that the accounting department isn't that scary!

Ding!

Should standing in an elevator for nearly fifteen minutes count as your morning commute? It really shouldn't but here you are. The coffee in your hands went cold about 5 floors ago, the usual ache in your feet is starting to kick in, and you can feel the humidity wreaking havoc on your hair. You really do want to curse out the big shot who thought that having offices on the 40th floor was a good idea. Partly, you think that Sungchan would also curse them out as well.

By floor thirty something, you almost fall asleep before a familiar sight steps into the lift. And unfortunately enough, he looks to be in the same state as you are.

Ready to murder, or be the first one to die in said horror film. You wonder if Sungchan likes horror movies too. Every office worker should: it gets the stress out very well. In fact, he might’ve been staying up late watching them; the bags under his eyes really don’t compliment the lack of caffeine in his hands. You almost feel half tempted to give him your own cold cup to help tide his morning over.

Sungchan slots right into place at the back of the elevator next to you. His broad shoulders knocking into you slightly due to the cramp of the lift.

After a year of it, you’d like to think you’re used to the space he takes up in your life; physically and mentally.

The thing is, for a guy that works an office job, Jung Sungchan is not a bad looking man at all. Always looking like he's attending the first day of school with a pressed collar and ironed tie, it's hard to look... and not fall in love with him in the process. Never once in your commuting life have you ever seen a hair out of place on him. He's closest you've ever physically gotten to the picture of corporate happiness and 100% customer satisfaction, while you get into daily arguments with your Excel spreadsheet.

Ding!

A trolley of files comes wheeling into the cube of claustrophobia, forcing you to squeeze further into the corner until you find yourself between a cold corner and a warm place. The thought of whatever department’s budget goes flying out the window when — Ah.

The smell of citrus falls over you like a waterfall. Sungchan’s cologne must be dumped in his hair because it’s suddenly all you know. It makes you dizzy, so much so, that you barely notice him sheepishly grinning down at you. He’s leant on his forearm, next to your head, caging you in, and his other is desperately trying not to dig his messenger bag into your side.

"So sorry about this," he whispers. It feels conspiratorial in the tight space, but almost everyone else has earbuds in and probably have bigger things to worry about.

You tilt up to look at him, not forgetting to linger on the long column of his throat exposed by his grey suit. "S'fine,” you mumble up to him, sorely aware of the way his wide eyes stare into yours. "Nice to meet you?" you eke out. You try and go for casual and smooth, but your heart sounds like a clattering of the subway: raucous in your ears.

Maybe it has been a year of pining away. Staring after Sungchan and his unfairly good proportions and rolling mountain shoulders. You don’t know how the PR interns haven’t already kidnapped him to make some sexy corporate calendar. However, you do know that it would increase revenue for the entire first quarter and save you about 10 less board meetings on budget caps. The content of said photoshoots is all you can dazedly think about as he shifts again, shuffling further into the wall and further into your mental mess.

Ding!

Sungchan’s smile is wicked as it breaks you from your thoughts. "Lovely to meet you, elevator buddy." And he sends you an overconfident wink for your efforts – with a small blush to dash. “Would love to shake your hand but, we’re ah – a bit occupied.”

You quirk a brow. “Elevator buddy?”

Sungchan’s grin doesn’t relent, even at your scrunched expression. "I've spent the past year calling you that, you're not stopping me now.” He says the last bit under his breath, as the lady with the trolley backs up even further into him and pushes him impossibly closer to you. His lips end up skimming your forehead and sending an involuntary chill down your spine, while your right hand ends up flat on his chest, your left jammed awkwardly into your side with your coffee.

Pull it together, please God, pull it together.

“The last year?” Is all you can get out coherently. It’s impossible to take deep breaths when every thought in your head is being thrown out of a metaphorical window. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters. This elevator crush is going to haunt you for life if you go back to silence after all this. Stop asking questions damn it!

Sungchan hums, the sensation sinking into your bones. “It’s about then, no? It was my first time in the building because it was the BigHit and Pledis merger last year,” he says, awfully fond. “You had a massive dossier of balance sheets, and I crashed into you in the elevator lobby because you never saw me. Your papers went everywhere!” Sungchan trails off in a laugh, however your mind starts taking very careful steps back into the past…

You barely remember last year. Only the stress piling up on your table from one too many days working after hours in the quiet with Eunseok. The grid lines of spreadsheets permanently etched onto your screens and into your retinas. Neither company was willing to give an inch for each other in spite of the whole “merger” idea, forcing far too many revisions, far too close to the deadline those prissy higher ups set. And so, the entire fate of departments rested on your two heavily overworked shoulders.

Running into someone like Sungchan would have never crossed your mind then. Being all wrapped up in your stress, there was no way you’d pay that much attention to a pretty face. One incident in particular though… ding!

“Wait… you’re the one that spilt their pretentious oat milk chai latte on the finalised budget reports?!” You don’t even know if that was his actual drink order but all you remember was flying into a fit of red rage when green bled all over your precious, freshly printed work.

To hell with kissing him; a kiss with your fist was way more overdue. 

Sungchan practically squawks as he jumps to justify himself. “I didn’t spill anything! I just accidentally walked into you and the papers – and my latte ­– went flying! Not my fault.” His hand snakes down from the wall and onto yours resting on his chest. If you could physically look him in the eyes, you’d be sure there’d be some fire of determination in them.

Now, it’s his heartbeat, clattering under your ear like the ticking of keycaps; it’s his heat, sticking his shirt under your palm like tack; it’s his voice, shaking like an intern at the barest critique. His hand dwarfs yours: long fingers tracing the lines of yours. 

Your temper matches in step with your heart, beating against your mind in double time. “Do you know how long it takes to print double sided for a full dossier?! All of it to end up on the floor, covered in your hipster green tea latte! I have full authority to half whatever budg—"

Ding!

— “Hey, you two, this is your floor.” The tired voice of general manager Kim Doyoung chirps in. Red floods your face at the thought of someone watching you lose your head. Nevertheless, Doyoung watches on with a boredom only he could achieve. “You, save the death threats for feedback week, and Sungchan — don’t mess with someone from accounting.”

Sungchan takes the hint and peels himself off you, the smell of citrus still making you dizzy. The crowd barely parts, but he uses his size, pushing the way for the both of you. His enormous hand holding yours through the crowd and guiding you out of the cube of stress. When the doors whir shut behind you, he takes your empty coffee cup and dumps it into the bin.

Never would you think you’d be left hand in hand with Sungchan in an isolated elevator lobby. He’s still clasped onto you with a vice grip: his heat searing into your palms like hot iron. It burns being this close. The buzzing AC in the lobby being the only thing keeping you alive.

Nobody talks for a second, letting the silence say it’s piece before your mouth starts moving before you’ve processed what it’s doing. "If anyone reports us to HR, I am so so sorry.”

Sungchan takes a breath, blinking those wide doe eyes at you before his face splits into a grin. “No, don’t worry. I don’t think Doyoung-hyung will kick up much fuss,” he smiles.

Only now do you remember Doyoung is the head of HR and your heart kicks into double time again, but how is Sungchan so calm about this? As if reading your mind, he squeezes your hand to reassure you before dropping your it. “Stop looking so worried! Just look.” He pulls his lanyard out from where he usually stashes it in his breast pocket, and you nearly trip over your feet when you see it.

"I am HR." What the hells.

The look on your face must give it all away as Sungchan’s laugh echoes in the empty elevator lobby. And hells, the kid – is he even younger than you?? – knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger. "Maybe I will just file a complaint,” he says with a smile. “What was that again? Threatening to half our department budget?”

He tilts his head all coy like he’s not the one at fault here. The audacity, really. You shake your head in mild disbelief and shrug off your nerves. Oh, you know what? Might as well go for it. What’s stopping you now? Definitely not HR.

"Bold words from someone who singlehandedly setback the entire Bighit-Pledis merger back by a whole day,” you counter, head raised in even challenge. Sensible accountant alarm bells are ringing in your mind, but you clamp down on them. “Shouldn’t you, be making up to me?”

It’s your turn to fan your lashes and pout your lips. Savouring in the way he pretends to think and avoid staring at your pouted lips.

"There might just be something..." His long fingers pull you in by the lapels, just a hair away. A blush must flush all the way down you from the way his eyes light up. You watch his lips curl into that grin of his, already thinking about what’s next. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters.

"Not here, sweetness." And his smile is just as deadly as yours.

Fuck the spreadsheets. You’ve got a private meeting in board room #127 with corporate happiness.

hope i haven’t lost my touch :) thanks sm for reading and if you enjoyed, a reblog would be nice to help encourage more <3 ⭒ masterlist

[blackbirdswillsing]

On Gothic

a cute helpful guide on the gothic subculture that no one asked for <3

goth music springing from the late 1970s after the post punk movement was a subculture heavily inspired by the themes found in victorian gothic literature

gothic literature:

frankenstein - mary shelley

dracula - bram stoker

jekyll and hyde - robert stevenson

wuthering heights - emily bronte

rebecca - daphne du maurier

edgar allen poe <3

some keywords that come from gothic literature that can help you spot a goth song:

'dark' 'death' 'black' 'cold' 'heaven' 'hell' 'witches 'bats' 'night' 'roses' 'blood' 'church' 'forest' 'jesus' 'grey' 'horror' 'shadow' 'sacrifice' 'tears' 'ghost' 'spells' 'cry' 'love' 'haunted' 'funeral' 'cathedral'

Some other themes in a song that can help you to decide if it goth or not can be:

heavy bass

synth sounds (the song sounds like it was recorded in an empty church)

mysterious and whimsical vocals

deep vocals

lack of a (electric) guitar

The 1980's and 90's were the peak for the gothic subculture, especially in camden market, london, england

Some bands that were prominent at the time were...

Bauhaus

The Cure

Sisters of Mercy

Siouxsie and the Banshees

Christian Death

Clan of Xymox

The Cramps

Depeche Mode

New Order

Joy Division

Alien Sex Fiend

Fields of the Nephilim

Killing Joke

The Damned

Nick Cave

Softcell

Some other goth band recs:

Boy Harsher

Children on Stun

Earth Calling Angela

Molchat Doma

Forever Grey

Horror Vacui

Lebanon Hanover

London After Midnight

Male Tears

The March Violets

The Merry Thoughts

Paradise Lost

Paralysed Age

Plastique Noir

Rendez Vous

Rosetta Stone

Selofan

She Wants Revenge

Skinny Puppy

Specimen

This Cold Night

Tragic Black

Traitrs

Type O Negative

Twin Tribes

ULTRA SUNN

Xmal Deutschland

Your Funeral

The 69 Eyes

Please let me know which ones i've missed because these are just ones that I have taken from my own playlist!

The music is the number one most important part of goth subculture and you don't have to dress goth to be goth... but it sure is fun to do so! Goth fashion holds its roots in thrifting, upcycling and sustainable fashion (buying 'goth' clothes from shein, dollskill and killstar is a big no no).

Anyone can style their gothic outfits however they like but here are some examples of different styles:

Trad(itional) Goth:

Romantic Goth:

Victorian Goth:

The styles can get very similar so let me know if i’ve mixed any up!

I’ve reached the limit on the number of pictures i can add so here are some more examples of goth styles:

Corporate goth

Gothabilly

Mall Goth

Cyber Goth

J-Goth

Baby Bat

Mopey Goth

Vampire Goth

Steam punk

To end the post i'm circling back to gothic literature by listing some films too (which are often based on the books)

Everyone's beloved: Bela Lugosi in the first adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1931

The Crow 1994 which comes with a song from The Cure

Interview with the Vampire 1994

The Rocky Horror Picture Show 1975

Edward Scissor Hands 1990

The Addams family 1991 (if he's not like gomez then i don't want him)

The Craft 1996

That's all I have for now and if you made it this far thank you so much for reading and have a nice day <3

current goth song on repeat:

[rainandandy]

Bigger than the whole sky

Pairings: Rain Carradine X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Contains graphic depictions of violence, including public beatings and injuries that lead to death, themes of loss and grief, and the depiction of a harsh, dystopian environment with elements of oppression and cruelty. It also includes scenes of emotional distress, as characters witness the death of a loved one. Please read with caution.

Word Count:4209

Note: Kinda just went on with this one..... it hurt to write this and I based it off of the Gale beating scene in Hunger Games Catching Fire. Hope you enjoy (cry your heart out) with this

Life on Jackson's Star was steeped in bleakness, each day unfolding under the shadow of Weyland-Yutani's relentless control. The air was thick with dust and despair, the sky a perpetual overcast of smog that blurred the line between day and night. You, along with Rain and her brother Andy, had adapted to this harsh reality with a resilience born of necessity. Navigating through the oppressive regime required a careful balance of caution and subtle rebellion, as the omnipresent surveillance drones buzzed overhead like carrion birds waiting for a misstep.

The colony itself was a sprawling network of industrial complexes and cramped living quarters, all constructed with the cold functionality of corporate efficiency. The metallic clang of machinery and the hiss of steam were the constant backdrop to your lives, reminding you that the colony's primary function was to serve the company's interests, not the welfare of its inhabitants.

Despite the ever-present danger of being singled out by the guards for any perceived infraction, you three maintained a semblance of hope. In whispered conversations as you worked the barren fields or scavenged for parts among the debris, you shared dreams of a life beyond the company's grasp. These dreams were defiant sparks in the oppressive gloom of Jackson's Star, small but bright enough to keep the darkness at bay.

That day, as you toiled in the fields of Jackson's Star, the atmosphere was unusually tense, the air heavy with more than just the usual burdens. The rich, damp scent of freshly turned earth mingled oddly with the sharp, acrid tang of industrial exertion—a stark reminder of the unnatural union of nature and machine that characterized your existence. Clouds hung low, a somber gray canopy that seemed to press down on the landscape, intensifying the oppressive feel of the day.

The guards patrolled with heightened vigilance, their movements sharp and deliberate. Their fingers rested uneasily on the handles of their batons, twitching occasionally with a nervous energy that mirrored the electric charge of the air. Every step they took sent small shivers of apprehension through the ranks of laborers, their boots leaving deep, menacing imprints in the muddy ground.

Rain, ever the embodiment of resilience and quiet rebellion, had momentarily paused her labor. Leaning heavily on her shovel, she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her mud-streaked hand. Her chest heaved from the exertion, breaths coming in short, labored gasps that she tried to quiet, knowing all too well the dangers of displaying fatigue.

It was this moment of vulnerability, however fleeting, that drew the attention of a particularly ruthless officer. Known among the workers for his harsh discipline and cold demeanor, his eyes locked onto Rain with predatory precision. The badge on his chest seemed to gleam more fiercely under the overcast sky, a symbol of the unchecked authority he wielded. His approach was deliberate, each step measured to instill fear, his shadow falling ominously across the rows of bent backs and bowed heads.

As he drew closer, the underlying threat in his posture was unmistakable, his baton now an extension of his arm, raised not just as a tool but as a weapon of control. His presence loomed over Rain, a dark cloud in a field already devoid of sunlight, ready to burst at the slightest provocation.

The overseer's voice sliced through the humid air, a harsh interruption to the muffled cacophony of clanking tools and muted conversations of the weary workers. "Hey! No resting!" His tone was sharp, the authority in his command unwavering as his eyes fixed on Rain. With a menacing flourish, he raised his baton, the metal gleaming ominously under the harsh artificial lights of the work fields.

Rain looked up slowly, her expression unflinching, molded into a mask of steely resolve that seemed to stiffen her spine. Her hands, calloused and stained from the day's labor, clenched into fists at her sides. She met the overseer's gaze with a defiant fire burning in her eyes, her jaw set, bracing for the confrontation she knew was coming.

From just a few feet away, you witnessed the standoff, and a fierce, protective rage surged within you. The overseer’s blatant aggression, the threat looming so palpably in the air, sparked a primal defiance in your chest. Your muscles tensed, coiled springs ready to release. Without a moment’s hesitation, your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you forward.

"Leave her alone!" Your voice, loud and clear, cut through the tension like a knife. Every eye in the vicinity snapped towards you, including Rain's, which flickered briefly with something akin to worry and gratitude. The overseer turned his glare towards you, baton still raised, his expression twisting into one of surprise and then anger at your challenge.

"This doesn’t concern you," he spat, his words dripping with venom. But standing there, facing down the threat to someone you cared deeply about, you felt a steadfast resolve take root. This was your battle too, and you wouldn't back down. "She’s just catching her breath, sir," you said, your voice a calm contrast to the growing tension, trying to diffuse the situation. "We’ll get back to work right now."

The officer halted, mere inches from you, his shadow looming over you like a dark cloud. His face twisted into a sneer of outrage at your audacity to challenge him. "Double shift for you, then," he hissed venomously, his baton now lifted to emphasize his authority. The electronic hum of the baton was a clear threat as it activated, crackling with energy. "Think you can undermine me? You'll regret it."

Your heart raced as you maintained eye contact, refusing to show the fear that skittered down your spine. As the officer turned away, his message clear, you felt Rain’s hand reached out, touching your arm lightly, her expression tormented. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, stifled by the oppressive atmosphere.

Seeing her distress, you turned to her, your eyes locking. It was a silent communication, filled with years of shared hardships and understanding. You shook your head slightly, a clear signal. "You’re finished for the day. Go home, I’ll manage," you murmured quietly, pushing her gently toward Andy, who stood a few steps behind, his synthetic eyes wide with a programmed concern that mirrored human fear.

"But I can help—" Rain started to argue, her voice low and urgent.

You cut her off, your tone soft but firm, "No, Rain. It’s better if you're not involved. Please, for me, just go back with Andy. Stay safe." The plea in your voice was evident, each word laced with your concern not just for your own welfare but profoundly for hers.

Rain's eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions passing through them—fear, frustration, helplessness. Finally, with a weighty exhale, Rain gave a reluctant nod. Her fingers tightened around yours, conveying a silent vow to return. "Be careful," she murmured, her words nearly whisked away by the brisk wind. She hesitated, her gaze lingering on you with a mixture of fear and resolve, before Andy gently guided her away. Even as they retreated, her eyes kept darting back to you, etching every detail into her memory, laden with palpable concern.

Rain and Andy hurried back to the sanctuary of your shared quarters, the familiarity of the space a stark contrast to the chaos of the fields. The safety of these walls, peppered with personal touches and memories of quieter times, stood as a silent testament to the life you had built together amid the harsh realities of Jackson’s Star. As the hours ticked by, Rains worry only grew.

The fleeting sense of relief vanished as the harsh chirp of the communicator shattered the tense silence. Rain's heart skipped as Tyler's voice, laden with unmistakable dread, crackled through the speaker. "Get to the square—now! They have her." The urgency in his tone sent a chill down her spine, each word heavy with a grim portent that sent them rushing into the cold, unforgiving night of Jackson's Star.

Rain and Andy raced through the oppressively dim corridors of Jackson’s Star, their boots pounding against the cold metal floor, the sound reverberating off the narrow walls, amplifying their urgency and dread. The dim lighting flickered overhead, casting ghostly shadows that danced along the walls, mimicking their frantic pace. As they emerged into the open expanse of the square, their breaths were ragged, steam rising in the chilled air, mingling with the low murmur of the gathered crowd.

The scene that unfolded before them was one of stark terror and injustice, staged in the heart of the colony under the harsh glare of floodlights. The square, usually a place of communal gathering, had transformed into a chilling tableau of authoritarian display. At its center, raised above the muttering crowd on a grim platform, stood you—your figure stark and diminished, bound tightly with rough cords that cut into your skin. The fabric of your work clothes was stained dark with blood, stark against the pale severity of your skin, lending a macabre tone to the scene.

Rain’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs, a stark contrast to the numbing coldness spreading through her veins as she caught sight of you. The captain of the patrol was there, his voice booming unnaturally loud through the speakers, reciting a list of crimes so absurd and fabricated that they would have been laughable under any other circumstance. His words sliced through the murmurs of the crowd, each one landing like a physical blow against Rain's consciousness.

"They’re going to kill her," Rain murmured, the realization slicing through her like a cold blade. Her words were barely audible, lost beneath the cacophony of the square, yet they carried the weight of an unbearable foreboding. Andy, standing steadfast by her side, reached out a hand to steady her, his own expression one of muted horror, unable to fully simulate human emotion but clearly programmed to respond with empathy.

Rain's face was ashen, the color drained as if she herself had been bled of life. Her eyes, wide and filled with a palpable terror, were fixed unblinkingly on you, witnessing the grim spectacle of the guards preparing their instruments of torture. The sight of the metallic electronic batons, glinting ominously under the artificial lights, sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

In that moment, the square felt colder than ever, the usual hum of colony life drowned out by the grave proceedings of this cruel justice. The crowd around them seemed to fade into a blur, their faces either grim or impassively curious, none daring to intervene. Rain felt a surge of helpless rage mixed with her fear, a tumultuous storm that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

The scene at the square was charged with tension and dread. The crowd that had gathered murmured and shifted on their feet, their discomfort palpable in the heavy air as the officers prepared for the beating. You stood defiantly, your back straight, jaw clenched, bracing yourself against the rough wood of the beam to which you were tied. The first blow came down hard, the sound of the baton striking you echoed through the square, a harsh clack that seemed to resonate in the chests of all who heard it.

You didn't give them the satisfaction of hearing you scream. Your teeth were gritted, each breath through them a hiss of pain and defiance. The guards, emboldened by your silence, continued with increased ferocity, each strike aimed to break your resolve.

At the edge of the crowd, Rain's face was a mask of agony. "Stop it! Just stop, please!" Her voice broke through the murmurs, shrill with fear and desperation. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms, drawing blood that dripped unnoticed to the ground. She made a move to break through the crowd, to run to you, but Tyler and Bjorn caught her by the arms, pulling her back.

"Rain, no! You can't—you’ll only get yourself killed!" Tyler hissed, trying to anchor her back with his strength.

Bjorn added in a low, urgent tone, "Look at me, Rain! We can't help her by getting ourselves killed. We have to think this through."

Rain struggled against their grip, her eyes never leaving you, witnessing each brutal blow. "They're killing her!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with terror. "We can’t just stand here and watch this happen!"

As the beating continued, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through your frame, the reality of your situation sank in deeply for everyone present. This wasn’t merely a punishment; it was a spectacle designed to quell any thoughts of defiance among the workers. Your suffering was meant to remind them of their place under the oppressive heel of Weyland-Yutani.

Bjorn's grip on Rain’s arm was iron-tight, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear, cutting through the chaos with desperate urgency. "It’s a setup," he growled, his words laced with a bitter edge of realism. "They’re pinning all types of lies on her.”

Rain's face crumpled, tears carving clean paths down her dirt-streaked cheeks. She tried to move forward, to reach you, to scream out against the monstrous injustice, but her friends held her back, knowing any further action would only lead to more tragedy. "Please," she choked out, her voice strained to breaking. "They can't do this. Not to her."

The crowd around you swelled, a collective beast of spectators who watched as the guards, satisfied with their grim work, finally stepped back. Your body, so full of fight and spirit, now hung limp and defeated. The sight was a brutal blow to Rain, her knees buckling under the weight of despair. "No, no, no," she sobbed, her hands reaching out futilely as if she could somehow bridge the distance and bring you back to her.

As the guards finally ceased their brutal assault, wiping the dark smears from their metallic batons with nonchalance, one of them looked over to Tyler and the rest of your friends with a nod that bore the weight of finality. “They’re done,” Tyler muttered, his voice ringing hollow in the charged atmosphere, betraying the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "We need to get her out of here." Kay, with her medical kit clutched tightly in her hands, was already bulldozing her way through the stunned onlookers. Her voice cut sharply through the tension, "Move!" she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. The guards, taken aback by her audacity, stepped aside, allowing her access to the platform.

Reaching you, Kay dropped to her knees, her hands moving quickly and efficiently as she checked for any sign of life. Her face was set in a mask of concentration, the lines around her mouth taut with concern. She pressed two fingers against your neck, searching for a pulse. After a tense moment, she looked up, her expression grim but relieved, "She’s alive. Just barely. Help me get her back."

Rain, who had been frozen by fear and grief, sprang into action at Kay's words. Her eyes, red-rimmed and haunted, met Kay's as she helped lift your limp body. "Be careful with her," Rain whispered, her voice trembling as she and Kay maneuvered you down from the platform.

As they carried you through the crowd, which parted silently to let them pass, Rain’s mind raced with panic and fear, each step towards their compound

Back at the small, dimly lit compound that you, Rain, and Andy called home, the air was thick with tension and the lingering scent of blood. The cramped quarters, usually filled with quiet conversation and the occasional joke, now felt suffocating under the weight of the night’s events.

As you were laid gently on the makeshift table, Rain hovered over you, her hands trembling as they brushed the hair from your bloodied face. "Please, stay with me," she whispered, her voice breaking, barely more than a desperate plea.

Navarro, who had always been calm in a crisis, took charge immediately. "Clear the table," she ordered, her voice steady. She moved quickly, removing the few items that cluttered the surface. "We need space to work."

Kay, who had been training as a medic before Weyland-Yutani’s brutal regime took hold, was already digging through her kit. "We need clean water, towels—anything we can use to stop the bleeding," she instructed, her hands shaking as she unpacked bandages and antiseptic.

Andy shuffled awkwardly by the door, his eyes flickering with distress. "I-I’ll get the w-water," he stuttered, his synthetic voice faltering as he rushed to the small sink in the corner, fumbling with the handle before managing to fill a bowl.

The first thing Kay did was assess your wounds, her expression growing more grim by the second. "This is bad," she muttered under her breath, though Rain caught the words and felt her heart clench in response.

"Just tell me what to do," Rain said, her voice thick with fear but laced with determination. "Tell me how I can help."

"Keep pressure here," Kay instructed, guiding Rain’s hands to a deep gash on your side. The wound bled sluggishly, staining Rain’s fingers a dark crimson. "Navarro, I need more gauze, and a needle and thread. We have to stop the bleeding before anything else."

As Rain pressed down, she leaned close to you, her breath warm against your ear. "You’re going to be okay," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "I’m right here, baby. We’re going to get you through this."

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open just enough to focus on her. "Rain..." your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp. "I’m... sorry."

"Don’t," Rain choked out, tears welling in her eyes. "Don’t apologize. Just hold on, okay? Just hold on."

The room was silent save for the occasional clink of metal instruments and the sound of your labored breathing. The bowls of water that Andy brought over quickly turned pink, then a deep red as Kay and Navarro worked to clean your wounds. The table beneath you was soon stained with blood, the scent of iron heavy in the air.

Kay’s hands moved quickly, stitching up the worst of the gashes, her face set in concentration. "We need to get her stable," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "She’s lost too much blood."

Andy hovered nearby, clutching a clean towel he had found, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and helplessness. "W-will she be okay?" he asked, his voice small and hesitant.

"We’re doing everything we can," Navarro replied, her tone a blend of reassurance and reality. She exchanged a look with Kay, who only shook her head slightly.

Rain noticed the exchange, her heart sinking further. "She has to be okay," Rain whispered, her voice cracking. "She has to."

Hours passed, and the night deepened, the oppressive silence of the compound only broken by the sound of your shallow breaths and Rain’s quiet murmurs. She held your hand tightly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a rhythm meant to comfort both you and herself.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the words she was afraid she’d never get to say again. "Please don’t leave me. Not like this."

You managed a weak smile, though it took all the strength you had left. "Love you... too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "Always."

Rain leaned down, pressing her lips to your forehead, her tears mingling with the blood and sweat that covered your skin. "Always," she echoed, her heart breaking with every passing second.

As dawn approached, your breath became more labored, the fight slipping from your body. Rain felt the shift, her entire world narrowing down to the weakening pulse beneath her fingertips. "No, no, no," she whispered frantically, her grip tightening as if she could somehow keep you anchored to life. "Please, don’t go."

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and peace. "It’s okay," you whispered, though it cost you everything to say it. "I’ll... always... be with you."

Rain’s sobs filled the room as your eyes slowly closed, your hand slipping from hers as your body went still. The silence that followed was deafening, a hollow void where your heartbeat had once been.

"She’s gone," Kay said quietly, her voice steady but carrying the unmistakable edge of sorrow. Her words cut through the room like a blade, the finality of it crashing down on Rain like a tidal wave. The compound, already dim and cold, seemed to grow even darker.

Rain didn’t respond immediately. Her body began to tremble, first just a slight shiver in her shoulders, then growing into a full, uncontrollable shaking as the reality of your loss settled in. She leaned over your still form, her tears falling in relentless streams, splashing against your skin. "No... please, no," she sobbed, her voice breaking, clutching at you as if holding you tighter could somehow pull you back from the abyss.

Andy, who had been standing nearby, approached hesitantly. His synthetic form seemed to sag under the weight of the moment, his usually bright eyes dimmed with a sorrow that was unnatural for a machine. "R-Rain," he stuttered, his voice halting and filled with a strange echo of human grief. "She... she loved you so much."

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with despair. Tyler stood off to the side, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He stared at the floor, unable to look at you, unable to reconcile the brutal end you had met with the strong, vibrant person he had known. His chest heaved with the effort to keep his own emotions in check, but the tear that slid down his cheek betrayed his inner turmoil.

Bjorn, always the stoic, had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression unreadable. But his eyes were fixed on Rain and your body, the usual hardness in his gaze softened by a quiet, painful understanding. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. For all his gruff exterior, the sight of Rain breaking down over your body pierced through his defenses.

Navarro, who had been helping Kay moments earlier, stepped back, her hands shaking. The blood that had stained her fingers felt like it was burning into her skin, a reminder of how close they had all come to saving you—and how far they had failed. She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob that threatened to break free, her eyes brimming with tears.

As Rain's sobs grew louder, more desperate, the room's silence was broken only by the sound of her heartbreak. "Please, don’t leave me," she whispered through her tears, her voice small, broken. She pressed her forehead against yours, her fingers tangled in your hair as she pleaded with you, as if willing you to open your eyes, to take just one more breath.

Andy knelt beside her, his mechanical hand resting gently on her shoulder, though his touch was cold. "I’m s-sorry," he managed to say, his voice almost robotic but laden with the echoes of human grief. "She was b-brave."

Tyler finally moved, crossing the short distance between him and Rain. He placed a hand on her back, his own tears now falling freely. "She saved you, Rain," he said softly, his voice strained with the effort to keep it steady. "She saved us all."

Rain didn’t respond, her world having collapsed to just you and the unbearable loss that consumed her. She clung to you, pressing her face into your neck, her sobs muffled against your skin. "I can’t... I can’t do this without you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please, wake up. Please."

But the silence that followed was deafening, the finality of your death sinking into the hearts of everyone present. Kay moved around the table, gently covering your body with a blanket, her movements slow and reverent, as if any sudden action might shatter the fragile hold they all had on their emotions.

As the hours passed, the reality of the situation set in. Rain never left your side, her fingers still entwined with yours, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Andy remained close, his presence a silent vigil, his circuits whirring quietly in the background.

Bjorn and Tyler took turns keeping watch at the door, their usual banter replaced by a heavy silence. Navarro sat in a corner, her knees drawn to her chest, staring at the floor as she tried to process the loss.

Rain’s heart ached with a pain so deep it felt like it would consume her whole. But through her grief, she knew one thing with absolute certainty: you had saved her, sacrificed everything for her, and that knowledge, though it brought her no comfort, would be the anchor that kept her from completely drowning in her sorrow.

She leaned over, pressing one last kiss to your forehead, her tears mixing with the blood still staining your skin. "I’ll never forget you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I’ll never stop loving you."