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majestyeverlasting · 5 months ago

Text

the moments in between

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader��

Summary: When Joel and Ellie arrive at the Jackson commune, his strong frame and intense gaze captivate you. But as the days pass, you lose hope that he might be drawn to you as well. That is, until the walls come crashing down and the truth finally reveals itself.

Word Count: 7.3k [slow burn]

A/N: I put a lot of love and time into this one. It's my longest fic so far but it didn't feel hard, which I like to believe is a good thing. Hope it resonates, hope you feel the feels and the yearning between these two—let me know! Hope you're well.

A breeze follows Tommy as he saunters in through the doors of the Tipsy Bison, the soft click of his boot heels echoing off the wood with each easy step. The cowboy hat on his head casts a shadow over his eyes until he takes it off, his dark hair cascading down over his ears. There’s a small smile playing on his lips that makes you narrow your eyes.

Cleaning the bartop suddenly loses its appeal, but you don’t stop, only slow down. The fresh, tangy scent of lemongrass continues to waft up from the motion.

“We close early on Sunday’s, officer,” you tease as he climbs onto a stool.

He frowns as he sets his hat aside. “I don’t look like a cop, do I?” You shrug, and he chuckles as his gaze roves over to the pool room. “Nate back there? Yo, Nate!”

“Evening, Tom,” the older man calls back as he polishes a cue ball.

“Joel’s made it into town.” There’s no overt emotion in the way he shares the news, but you can see that it’s all in his eyes as he waits for you to react.

“Joel, Joel? As in your brother?” He nods, still in disbelief himself. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing, Tommy—right? What the heck.” He used to talk about him all the time.

His exhale makes way for a shaky smile, “I know. Made it in not too long ago with a young girl he’s looking after,” he tells you, voice thick with a mix of emotions. “He’s outside. Wanted to come in and see if you’d let us grab a drink.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Know it’s late. Promise I’ll make up for the trouble.” He knows it’s no trouble. Not when it comes to him.

He turns around, barstool squeaking, and waves Joel in through the window.

You move to start working on their whiskies. “Make it up by letting me be the baby’s godmother?” The glasses clink as you set them onto the bar and begin pouring the caramel colored liquid, smirking when you meet his gaze.

Tommy isn’t completely opposed to the idea. You’d been in Jackson since the beginning, a friend to him and Maria in every sense of the word. Arguably family. “If you can manage not to tick me off until the little one gets here.” Despite his words, his eyes are fond.

The door creaks open, and Joel strides in, scanning the room. There are pictures on the walls of American icons and landmarks, and old Polaroids of commune members. There’s a guarded confidence to the way he walks, an intensity.

Tommy quickly leans in and whispers, “He means well. It’s been a long day.”

Joel takes a seat beside his brother and acknowledges you with a curt nod, tugging on the collar of his shirt.

“Welcome to Jackson,” you greet, introducing yourself afterwards.

“Joel,” he says, taking you in with a steady gaze.

“Tommy’s told me a lot about you.” You push their glasses closer to them in an encouragement to start drinking.

Joel takes his first sip and fights back a reflexive grimace. It’s been a while, but it's good. Good enough to make him feel pleasantly warm as it glides down. Tommy drinks off his brother’s lead, and you realize just how alike they look. Joel’s hair is a little shorter and accented with streaks of gray, but they both have those same dark, telling eyes.

They fall into light conversation, but it’s clearly not what they'd talk about if they were alone. That’s when you sense the distance. The slight edge to the space between them. It’s why Tommy resorts to drawing you in, the two of you ripping off each other as Joel listens, fine with not having to speak until this whole little ordeal was winding to an end. However, he does sit up a little straighter whenever you laugh. You pour them more whiskey when their glasses get empty.

Eventually, the remaining light outside fades away. Tommy hisses at the sight, standing. “I gotta get home to Maria,” he says, stretching his back. Joel moves to get up too, until, “At least finish off this glass, man. You’ve earned it.” Tommy squeezes his brother’s shoulder. He means it genuinely, at least. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Joel. Thanks again for this,” he tells you.

“Bye, sheriff,” you call after him. Tommy scoffs.

Joel realizes just how quiet it is when you move aside to tinker with a bison trinket sitting on the counter, unsure of what to say with Tommy gone. He knows you can see him looking at you. “So, are you here by yourself?” he finally asks.

A playful smile tugs at your lips. “That’s not a creepy question at all,” you tease, quickly gathering that he doesn’t find the implication funny. “Uncle Nate?” you call.

“Busy!”

You raise your brows at Joel. “Not alone.”

Nate was chosen family. The man taught you everything you know about shooting, fishing, and survival even though you gave him a hard time for it when you were younger. He was also the founder of the Tipsy Bison. He only came into the bar on the weekends when he wasn't on patrol. His time in the military all those years ago made it hard to step away from a life of service.

“We were cleaning when Tommy came in,” you tell Joel. He takes in that information wordlessly.

“You aren’t much for talking, are you?” Joel takes a sip from his glass. “Nothing wrong with that. Must mean you don’t miss much. Really observant.” When he doesn’t respond, you smile shyly, realizing he probably just wanted to relax after a long day. “Guess I won’t stand here and talk your ears off.”

The floor creaks as you disappear into the recreation room with Nate, rounding the corner. Joel exhales, shoulders dropping from being drawn up. He almost misses your company.

Nate sits hunched over a word search puzzle, using the pool table as if it's a normal desk. He doesn’t look up at you, even when you give an affectionate tug to his curly gray ponytail. It was something you’d been doing since the days you both were out on your own and had to stay quiet all the time. Back when there was no safety, no security, no commune.

“Ouch,” he drones, unphased.

“Are you gonna come out and meet Tommy's brother?” you ask, low so Joel can’t hear. “I feel like you guys have a lot in common: brooding and grumpy.” Pride flutters in your chest when the man’s lips twitch.

“I’ll meet him… eventually. Gotta finish this puzzle.” You realize there’s a small hourglasses going, the sand swiftly filling the bottom portion. “There ya are—serendipity.” He circles the letters.

Word searches were something he recently started doing. When you have a past as extensive as his, it’s always chasing after you in one way or another. Especially in those quiet moments that sneak up on you. He claimed that seeking out words from amid an ordered chaos keeps the racing thoughts at bay whenever they come rushing in.

Joel is finished by the time you join him again, and you realize he’d waited instead of calling out. Already standing, ready to go.

“Anything else I can get you?”

He shakes his head. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

Joel turns to leave but you keep talking, “So I reckon Tommy already squared you away with a house and a tour of the town?”

He stops. “I’m across the street from him. Gettin’ the tour tomorrow.”

“That’s great, I’m really glad you found us.” You sound so genuine that there’s a flutter in his gut. “We’re a pretty crazy bunch, but I think you’re gonna like it here.”

“Hope so.” Those are the words he leaves you with.

Your eyes stay trained on his back as he makes his way towards the door, stride the same as when he first arrived. Perhaps a little looser. Before he exits the bar, his eyes catch a glimpse of one of the decorative license plates secured to the wall: Austin, Texas.

Shortly after he makes it outside, his heart rate ticks up in that impending way he wishes wasn’t so familiar, breath catching in his throat as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. There’s no escaping the panic as it sets in, surging through him. A few staggering steps allow him to brace a hand on a wooden directory board.

You see it all from inside. At first, you think he’s trying to read the sign, but then he hunches over more and grips his chest. Without thinking, you jog towards the doors.

“Joel?” You call once you’ve broken outside.

It’s a cool spring night, a crescent moon shares its pale glow from above. Most of Jackson is already tucked away inside or at least halfway there. But in this sliver of time, it feels like it’s just the two of you outside. Joel doesn’t let on that he’d heard you, but the moment you’re close enough, you recognize what’s going on. You press your palm to his back to let him know you’re there. That he’s still here.

“Concentrate on your breathing. In and out, just like that,” you encourage, settling on rubbing his back in measured passes. Then you go quiet on the off chance he needs that.

In your newfound silence, Joel is forced to focus on the shaky breaths rising from his lungs. That’s when he accepts he’s not in control. Not in the grand scheme of things. There’s a whole big fallen world just outside the gates of this haven. A world that had taken people he loved and was cruel enough to let him be the one who lived to tell the tale. The heat that rises to his cheeks is made up of frustration more than distress, crackling like pop. Like coals.

The ground takes on a vignette as he stares at it, his vision briefly closes in. You never withdraw your touch.

When his breaths eventually begin to steady, you remember how to breathe yourself. With a tired exhale, he straightens back up to his full height, and you take a few small steps away. Maybe this wasn’t new, but a fact of life for the man who’d rode into Jackson in an air of mystery and a young girl by his side. Maybe he never wanted you to get a glimpse at this side of him. If he feels that way, he doesn’t make it obvious. He almost looks appreciative that you’d bothered enough to care.

“Sorry to scare you,” he rasps, not meeting your gaze even though he can feel it. You want to tell him that there isn’t much that scares you anymore. At least that’s what you like to believe. “I’m usually alone.”

Except, tonight, he wasn’t. And maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing.

•••

Howdy Stranger

This is Jackson Hole

The last of the Old West

Joel reads the painted wooden sign as Tommy and Maria show him and Ellie around. There are people everywhere. Children playing outside, adults fluttering in and out of shops. All while the Teton mountains loom and watch over it all with their snow-capped peaks. He looks over at the girl when she nudges his arm, pointing to a Calico lounging on a porch. Despite her beaming smile, all he offers is a low hum.

It was hard to be in the now when his thoughts were split between the past and future. Up until Jackson, there was no such thing as stability, and he couldn’t help but think about the day that the rug would be pulled from beneath the commune as well. Ellie’s smile fades when she notices the harsh squint of his face. He kicks himself for it.

“Cat hater,” she mumbles under her breath.

Joel grunts and directs his attention back to his brother.

When the tour comes to an inevitable end, Ellie sings Jackson’s praises after Tommy and Maria go their separate ways with a promise to reconnect later that day. He lets her talk as they make their way back to their new house, idly agreeing every once in a while. A few curious eyes fall on them as they walk, but Joel doesn’t pay them any mind.

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Ellie stops walking to give him a flat look.

“I hear you,” he insists. “Been hearing you for the past ten minutes.”

There’s no snark in his tone, but Ellie still feels the slight sting of offense. “Well, sorry for being excited about having a nice place to live for once. It’s not like I was born into hell or anything—I mean the Boston QZ.” Sarcasm drips from her voice as she starts walking again, faster so it looks like they’re not together.

Joel swallows down guilt like it’s just another pill. His legs are long, so it doesn’t take much to catch back up with her.

“Hey…Kid…Ellie.” She keeps ignoring him. “This is new for me too, okay? Everybody’s got a different way of processing, can we agree on that?” It’s a fair enough proposal. He never had been forward when it came to sharing his thoughts. “Wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmurs, deciding to take a break from her rambling for his sake. The mutual silence isn’t so bad.

Someone he isn’t expecting to see is you. You’re wearing a backpack and ushering a line of young kids into the community center. One of the little girls stops and stretches her arms up towards you, earning a playful eyeroll before being lifted onto your hip. Joel doesn’t miss the way the afternoon sunlight catches your face.

•••

The next day, a faint thump against the door startles Ellie as she sketches in the dining room. Rather than getting up from the table, she remains still, pencil in hand and brows furrowed. Upstairs, the spray of the shower continues as Joel lets it drown out everything else. Three light knocks eventually sound, and she musters up the courage to scurry to the front.

She peeks out the window first, spotting you. Someone she hadn’t seen around. An amused smile pulls at her lips at the way you’ve seemingly wrestled the big basket you’re holding into a better grip than before.

When she opens the door, you let out a relieved sigh. “Special delivery,” you say before introducing yourself.

“That’s a really pretty name,” she compliments, already warming up to you. “I’m Ellie—is all that stuff for us?” When you nod, she excitedly steps aside and ushers you in.

“I’m not gonna say you shouldn’t have because that’d be a lie,” she shamelessly admits. “You can put it right over here.” You follow her into the living room and place the welcome basket on the coffee table.

A few of the ladies you volunteer with helped you put it together after your shift counseling for the spring break camp. There were cookies, seeds, natural soaps, feminine hygiene products, and even a knit blanket that looked particularly soft and cozy. Ellie wastes no time reaching out to run her fingers over it. A laugh bubbles up your throat when her jaw drops.

“This is literally what clouds feel like.” She haphazardly pulls the blanket out the basket, wrapping it around herself like a cape. “If Joel says anything, this was specifically included for me.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to share if he asked nicely,” you reason, amused. Ellie’s nose wrinkles. “But to be fair, we did think you’d be the one to really appreciate it.”

She smiles at being considered. “Who made it? This is, like, next level.”

“A woman named Emilia,” you tell her. “She actually made me one back when Jackson was first being built up that I still have,” you tell her, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. The evening sunlight pours in through the windows, casting golden streaks onto the floors. “Now she’s always got a few on standby.”

Ellie sits beside you, reaching out to dig through the other contents in awe. “They told us the commune's only, like, seven years old on our tour yesterday,” she recounts. Think you’ll have your blanket forever?”

“Forever’s an awful long time. It might hold up,” you think aloud. Ellie nods, contemplative. “I can take you by to meet her sometime, if you’d like. She’s the resident seamstress, so you’ll probably end up crossing paths anyways.”

“What about you? What do you do?” she asks, giving you her full attention.

“I mainly help coordinate community events. Been stepping in to assist with the youth spring break camp for the last couple days, though,” you say. “Also bartend on the nights that I feel like it. Just for fun, you know?”

Ellie's face lights up. “I’ve had whiskey before.” She puffs out her chest when she says it, and you play into her pride by raising an impressed brow. The first and last time you had a sip was when you snuck it from Nate as a teen. “But that’s really cool, though. The community stuff and all that.” You can tell by her tone that she means it. In more ways than one, you’re reminded of your younger self.

“Joel’s gonna join the patrol. He says I’m too young, but that’s just bullshit.” She says the last part lower as if he’s somewhere listening. “I’ll figure out a way to make him cave.” There’s an air of confidence to her voice that suggests she’s done it before. The thought warms a tiny portion of your chest.

“I’ve gone out with my uncle Nate a few times. It can be a lot,” you admit. “He just wants you safe, Nate’s the same way.”

As Joel stops at the top of the staircase, freshly showered, he catches those last words. He’d know your voice even if it’d been forever. His footsteps are quiet as he descends the stairs, but you hear him coming nevertheless. Ellie’s too busy sniffing the pine soap as you straighten up and glance his way. Joel’s eyes are as observant as you remember when they land on you, seeing into you, it seems. His damp hair is combed back in a way that makes him look more distinguished.

“There you are.” You stand up with a smile. You’d been wondering how he was doing since the panic attack.

He wishes your warmth wasn't so compelling.

Ellie whips around to look at him. “I know you said not to open the door to strangers—which is practically everybody at this point—but she’s really nice and brought us gifts so you can’t be mad at me,” she rushes out. He clocks the blanket around her shoulders.

He hmphs. “That’s how they get you.” He’s not being serious, but Ellie frowns, trying to read through his eternal poker face. “Treats and a friendly smile.” Your lips twitch in amusement as Ellie narrows her eyes.

When Joel starts walking your way, she consoles herself with the fact that he would've already asked you to leave if he sensed your intentions were off. The commune wasn’t filled with questionable people like that anyways. The two of them didn’t have to be apprehensive of every soul they came across anymore.

He’s close enough now that you can smell the cedar soap on his skin. “I’m not a stranger,” you lightly defend. “Not entirely.” You look from Ellie to Joel.

A wall rises in real time, shutting you out right along with the night you met. It happens in his eyes just like everything does. He hadn’t mentioned you to her, and it was your mistake for believing he would’ve at least passed on a name.

You swallow back a small lump in your throat that may not be entirely just. “Anyways, hopefully you guys will be able to put this stuff to use.”

“Of course we will,” Ellie pipes up. “Are you leaving already?” She hadn’t missed the finality that had crept into your tone.

You nod. “Don’t wanna take up too much of your evening. I actually meant to come by sooner.”

“Well, are you going to the dining hall for dinner?” Her gaze flicks to Joel. “Maybe you can come with us.”

Joel knows he’s in trouble when he hears the fondness in Ellie’s voice. It’s the same sentiment he was straining to tamper down within himself. Every time he opened his mouth or looked at you, it tried to claw its way to the forefront. The last thing he needed was another person getting close enough to see that he was a million tiny pieces being held together by the glue of whatever god was keeping him alive.

You decline her invitation, expressing plans to go to your uncle’s place. But you give her a rain check. When you go to leave, Joel allows his eyes to flitter down the rest of your body.

That wouldn’t be the last he saw of you. But it was always from afar, lingering on the outskirts. Wishing there was a seamless way he could fall into your orbit without sending everything spiraling out of control.

You were always looking right back at him with hope in your eyes, holding space. Waiting for your world to be shaken.

•••

Laughter, chatter, and music drown out the insects that usually take precedence at night. Weeks of planning had finally come into fruition. All of Main Street is lined with fairy lights that cast their warm glow down on the summer festival. There was no shortage of entertainment, games, and food. It was a time to let loose and relish the sweetness in the air along with that of life.

Nate plays his harmonica for a group of children around the bonfire, all clapping and stomping along. A smile graces your face as you walk by, waving at him. The fullness of your heart almost overrides the ache that has settled in the arches of your feet. You’d barely sitten down since earlier that morning when preparation began. There was a sense of responsibility that came along with the orange vest you were dawned in. The pressure to assist, and guide, and answer questions wasn’t all on you, but the other volunteers were better at taking breaks.

Tommy’s grainy voice breaks into the air through a megaphone, “Thirteen-and-up three-legged races starting in five minutes, this is your last call. Grab a partner and make your way over to the east lawn,” he says. “Again, this is the last call.”

Joel and Ellie already happen to be seated at a picnic table that gives them a perfect view of the race setup and Tommy facilitating in an orange vest of his own. Ellie had already worked through her first honey cake and was eyeing Joel’s. He pretends not to notice until she looks up at him all wide-eyed.

“Can I—” he slides his plate over to her. “Thanks.”

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” he lightly accuses, shaking his head.

“What does that even mean?” She takes a bite. “Weirdo.”

Joel just grumbles and tosses a napkin her way. She wipes her mouth and keeps staring at him. Not because she’s waiting for an answer, but because there’s amusement sparkling in his eyes. Which happens more often now that they’d had a couple months to settle into Jackson. A laugh was coming, she could feel it.

“Quit gawking at me and eat.” There’s a tell-tale waver in his voice.

“No.” Ellie lightly kicks his shin beneath the table and that’s what sets him off.

He tries to bite back a chuckle, but he gives in when it doesn’t work out, shoulders shaking. Ellie starts grinning at him from across the table, and he kicks her back with the tip of his boot.

“Hey!” She breaks into giggles and retaliates. He lets her have the little victory.

A small smile lingers on his face when he regains his composure. They sit in a comfortable silence as Ellie finishes the rest of her dessert, taking in the festivities around them.

It isn’t long before a girl with dark hair approaches their table. She’s a ball of masked nerves. “Hi,” she greets. “Ellie, right?” She says it as if it’s possible for her to have forgotten. As if after they sat together at last week’s movie night, she hadn’t been thinking about her since.

Ellie get’s uncharacteristically squirmy. “Oh. Hey, Dina.”

Joel can’t believe it.

Dina tucks a flyaway behind her ear. “My old partner bailed, so I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna do the three-legged race with me. I think we’d make a better team anyways.” Then she glances at Joel. “If you wouldn’t mind me stealing her away for a bit.”

“Take her,” Joel quips, making Dina laugh.

Warmth rushes to Ellie’s cheeks as she stands. “Sure, let’s go.”

The two of them jog over to get prepped for the race. Joel watches the whole while, warmth kindling in his chest at the fact that she was slowly finding her tribe. The race doesn’t start for another couple minutes, and when it does, Ellie and Dina burst off into first. It’s intense. The whole ordeal is a mess of laughter, stumbling, and flailing limbs. In the end, the duo end up placing second, crossing the finish line only to fall into a heap of giggles with their legs tied together.

Joel stands from the picnic table with a grunt to throw away all the empty plates. He has every intention to sit back down, but notices a few frazzled volunteers carrying mops and towels. Then his eyes rove over to the long line standing at the drink stands. Adults check their watches, children fidget. A woman in an orange vest is talking to another woman managing the stand. He doesn’t realize is you until you turn away from her and beeline towards the community center, looking stressed.

“Hey,” he calls out to a stout man wearing an apron. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He’s surprised Joel caught on. Everyone else was carrying on as usual, carefree and unaware. “There was a spill at the community center. You know Mr. Robertson’s special Summer Fest punch?” he asks in a thick Brooklyn accent, Joel nods because he’d heard the rave. Apparently it was made especially for the festival. “Kitchen’s flooded with it. I didn’t have time to build an ark,” he jokes.

Joel wrestles with himself. “I’ll go see if I can help.”

By the time you exit the community center, gaze fixed over your shoulder, you crash into Joel. He instinctively reaches out to steady you, touch firm but gentle. “Whoa, easy there.” The low timbre of his drawl is enough to draw your mind away from all the noise. “You alright? Here, let’s get out of the way.” You let him pull you aside by your elbow.

When you look into his eyes, there’s so many things you wish it was the appropriate time to say. It’s been cordial between the two of you, but it always seemed like he was in a constant state of backing away, like an animal scared of giving into a primal craving.

There was always a reason why he couldn’t stay in your presence longer than he did. He had to get back to Ellie, or turn in early for his patrol shift the next day, or some other excuse. Even during the game nights you hosted, he would always leave before his belly was full and the real fun was about to begin. When everyone was finally free of the day’s worries and truly ready to talk, laugh, and let everything ride on the toss of a dice.

He’d resigned himself to enjoying you in the little here and there, the moments in between. So much so that even Ellie had begun to notice. It was in the way he never allowed himself to lean in too close whenever you were at his side. Or never fully crawled out of his shell no matter how many times you smiled sweetly or let your fingertips brush his forearm.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks more intently. As he scans you over, he notices your clothes. The lower portion of your vest and the thighs of your flared jeans are stained with a wet, dark substance.

“I’m fine, Joel.” You pull away from him with more force than necessary, feeling guilty for the way he swallows and takes a step back. “Sorry.” You release a heavy exhale, tears welling in your eyes with a dull sting. “I’m ruining everyone’s night.”

Joel frowns. “No you’re not. Tell me what happened.”

“I was trying to transfer the extra beverage dispenser onto the wagon so I could wheel it out to the drink stand, but it slipped out of my grip,” you explain. “The lid came off and the punch spilled everywhere.” You wipe your tears away quickly, as if they’ll stain too.

“Accidents happen,” Joel’s tone is steady like scripture, tenderness peeking through just enough to cling onto. “Everybody’s fine. The world's still turning.”

Nobody had reacted in an extreme manner. There were gasps and startled jumps, but assurances came rushing in as the janitorial volunteers insisted that they’d get everything cleaned up. Everyone in that kitchen knew that there were worse things in life than spilled juice. Sure, it was upsetting, considering the time Mr. Robertson spent and the people looking forward to drinking more, but it was a small mistake in the grand scheme of things. But when your heart is already heavy and your mind is tangled with other concerns, those little mishaps feel like the most devastating ones.

There was a directness about Joel, though, that eased away the guilt crawling beneath your skin. It was like he understood what screwing up truly was and this was many light years from it.

Dina spots Joel in the distance and points him out to Ellie. “There he is over there.”

Their smiles fall from their faces when they get closer and realize you’re crying. “Holy shit, what happened?” Ellie looks between you and Joel, worry etched onto her face.

“I just made a stupid mistake.” You sniffle, trying to regain your composure, not wanting to worry them. There was always something unavoidably daunting about seeing adults cry.

“You girls stay here with her for a second. I’ll be right back,” Joel instructs.

A new song starts up by the live band that’s playing. It’s an instrumental rendition of Every Breath You Take. A decent crowd has gathered, nibbling on sourdough and nodding to the melody. Some people are wrapped in each other’s arms. Joel soaks it all in as he navigates back to the racing lawn.

Tommy claps him on the back when he makes it and Joel returns the gesture. “You enjoying yourself, man?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah,” he says distractedly. “There was a spill at the community center, so no more punch. You think you can get everybody on the same page?”

“Copy that.”

Tommy’s voice carries through the megaphone as Joel makes his way back to you, the announcement fading with each step.

“Howdy, folks. Some of you may have already heard, but in case you haven’t, there’s been a little spill and we are unfortunately all out of Mr. Robertson’s world famous punch for the night. We apologize if you didn’t get the chance to try it, but I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it up to y'all. In the meantime, I heard the lemonade and ice tea ain’t half bad.”

His words blur into the background as Joel makes it back to you. There are a few disappointed groans, but nobody is completely devastated by the news. They keep carrying on just as he knew they would.

Tears no longer streak your face when Joel makes it back, Ellie and Dina seeming to have lifted your spirits a little more.

“Do you wanna go get cleaned up?” Joel suggests.

Now that you’re thinking about it, the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin is beginning to grow uncomfortable. You take a deep breath at the thought of walking home, away from Summer Fest, all the energy, all the fun. Joel sees the disappointment on your face.

“I can go with you,” he offers.

•••

The walk to your house is quiet, the sounds of the night's festivities now distant. The porch steps creak gently under your weight as the two of you ascend them. Joel watches as you unlock the door, but finds himself cemented as you step inside. Confusion, appreciation, frustration, and want are all amalgamated into one look directed right his way. Without saying a word, you head further inside, leaving the door open.

Joel’s hands twitch at his sides like he’s a live wire wrought with energy. Bugs would fly in if he didn’t do something—that’s the justification he creates. You’re halfway to the laundry room when you hear the front door shut behind him as he follows after you.

The living room is illuminated by dim lamplight as he walks through. A quick glance into the kitchen gives him sight of one of Ellie’s more recent drawings stuck to the refrigerator door with a smiley face magnet. It's a portrait of your face that you agreed to sit for one lazy afternoon while Joel was away on patrol.

The air smells like you. Understated and sweet, floral and earthen. Small plants line multiple windowsills despite how convinced you were that you couldn’t keep anything alive. The whole commune would be worse off without you and he’d be the first to wilter away.

At the sound of a zipper and clothes brushing against skin, he stops his pursuit of you. Miles away even though you’re mere yards apart. All he has is your shadow, dancing in the dim light pooling out of the laundry room and into the hall with him. He backs himself into the cool wall and closes his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Up and down and up again. An SOS in the middle of a sea when salvation was right within reach. It gets quiet after a while. No more running water, or cabinet doors, or shuffling around.

“You can let me in, you know?” comes your voice, so light it’s almost nothing. Joel releases a shaky breath and opens his eyes to the sight of you, dawned in old shorts and a graphic tee. You wish he would say something, anything. Share a fraction of what’s going on in his mind. “I’m right here, Joel.”

“I know. I see you.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice that’s wounded around the edges, as if he’s trying to accommodate the truth that burns within his ribcage, his stomach, beneath the entirety of his skin.

“So now what?” You swallow your nerves, studying his face, his neck. “We’re just gonna keep seeing each other for the rest of our lives and that’s it? No knowing, no feeling, no experiencing?” You ask. “No loving?”

One by one, the walls close in, until it feels like you’re standing toe to toe with nothing but words as weapons and honesty being the only way out. It’s not a fight he’s ready for. He can trek through the harshest winters, fight off monsters and all manner of men, but he’s defenseless in front of you.

There will be no victory, no rising from battle with a bloodied fist or blade, or immediate relief akin to the coming of spring. The only way out is to dig within, and he already knew what resided there. It was a matter of carving it out and laying it on an altar for you to see as you did the same. It’s not a fight at all, it's a sacrifice. All risk with probable reward.

“I don’t want that to be all that we do.” You’ve never heard Joel speak so quietly. It’s as if there’s Infected lurking nearby and he doesn’t want to be devoured. “Think about you too much.”

“I was starting to think you didn’t like me at all. Not like how I like you,” you say.

Joel swallows thickly, warm all over. “How do you like me?”

You push out of the laundry room doorway to step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, the beating of his heart. You let it thrum against your palm until a shallow breath slips past his lips, then you move to cup his stubbled jaw, lightly brushing your thumb over his lower lip. The urge to touch you back grows so great that he finally gives in and lets both of his strong hands settle on your waist.

Joel can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he leans in towards you, studying your face, searching for any sign that this might be some elaborate ruse. Instead, he finds something so poignant that he doesn’t have the words to define. It’s as terrifying as it is wonderful to, for once, be unable to size up what he’s up against.

You close the space in between you with a softness that takes his breath away. Bared heart meeting bared heart. Joel’s lips are gentle and unhurried, every second savored and not a single one missed. You try to focus but it feels like you’re falling and flying all at once. Then his fingers dig into your waist a little harder, a silent plea to stay there with him, the warmth of his kiss, the firmness of his body as he pulls you closer.

Your hands find their way to the back of his neck to play with the hair curled at his nape. The kiss deepens not in urgency but a shared understanding. A promise sealed in the way your bodies fit together. And then, slowly, deliberately, Joel eases back, lips lingering on yours for a heartbeat longer until there’s a slight space in between again. Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours, thumb stroking tender circles on your waist.

When you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, wondering if you can feel that two worlds having converged into one, buzzing with a newness that’s as beautiful as all the words you’d kept bottled inside.

•••

It hadn’t taken much. Just a hug and a few soft kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw. When Joel’s grumbling finally subsided, it made way for the soothing ripple of the river. You’d settled along the bank and stretched out a few blankets when you first arrived. An hour seemed to pass in the matter of a few seconds, laughter, conversations and all. Now the sun creeps closer and closer to the horizon up in the ombre sky.

It wasn’t any fault of your own that you’d asked Joel if the date could extend a little longer. It’d been a month of getting to see him in this light, open and unguarded, generous with giving those slow, easy smiles. Willing to lay down across your lap like this when you asked sweetly enough.

The small mouth of a fish breaks the surface of the water as you trace along his hairline, disappearing by the time you run the pad of your finger down his nose. His lips twitch as he continues to ward off sleep. This time, there’s no stopping a soft laugh from rising up your throat. That’s all it takes for his eyes to flutter open, blinking until they’re able to focus on the soft upturn of your lips. No sooner do they avert to the sky, assessing the fleeting light.

“We gotta head back now,” his voice is gruff. When he moves to sit up, you place a delicate hand on the center of his chest and he settles back down with a sigh. “C’mon, sweetheart, the sun’s setting. I don’t want you out here in the dark.”

Packing up and riding back to the commune meant this moment would be resigned to a memory. “A few more minutes won’t hurt,” you insist.

Before Jackson and before you, every second was about enduring to the next. Life was an endless onwards, onwards, onwards reverberating through his veins. Slowing down was always a risk until you showed him that sometimes life’s most worthwhile moments were in the stillness. Somedays that was easier to remember than others, but he sure did put in an effort.

“I think you’re enjoying this more than I am anyways,” you tease. The corners of his lips quirk upwards before he can stop them.

You continue on like that, tracing his face, occasionally glancing up at the snow-capped peaks of the mountains. Then an animal catches your attention across the way, lean and tall with short antlers protruding from its head. You suck in a breath of pleasant surprise, and Joel startles upright thinking the worst. His shoulders relax when he sees the creature. It bends its neck down to nibble at something in the grass until deciding to gallop away.

“Just a mule deer.” He gives you a look.

“I know, sorry. I get excited.” You offer an apologetic smile and he's reminded of how beautiful you look in the light of the setting sun, features aglow. He doesn’t say anything, just soaks you in here and now. An airiness fills your chest.

He stands with a groan, extending a helping hand back down to you. When you’re steady on your feet, he takes your chin in one gentle hand and tilts your head back so he can align his lips with yours. The kiss is brief, and he follows it up with a soft peck.

“Will you let me take you back home now?” he questions. “Ellie’s gonna have our heads if we’re late for game night. Especially when she’s choosing the line up.”

•••

No heads roll that night. Plenty of dice do, while Uno cards are slapped onto the coffee table, and Jenga blocks fall. Tommy, Maria, Dina, and your uncle Nate, eventually file out of Joel’s house, leaving the three of you alone. Ellie feigns sleep on the couch as soon as it’s time for cleanup, and dozes off for real as you and Joel start taking care of everything yourselves.

He steps up behind you as you’re standing at the kitchen sink, snaking his arms around your middle. A curious hum rises up your throat as you lean back into him.

“I think somebody cheated during Jenga tonight,” he hushes against the shell of your ear, relishing the way you shiver at the warmth of his breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joel noses at the back of your head. “So you weren’t the one touchin’ me during that last round?” he asks. “Scratching my back, squeezing my thigh.”

“It was innocent,” you insist. “It's a stressful game, I was just trying to ease your nerves. How was I supposed to know your hands would get all shaky?”

A sudden chuckle shakes his chest, sending a ripple of warmth through you. “Ease my nerves? We weren’t even on the same team.” His fingers squeeze your hips in quick, gentle pulses, making you arch into him in a spell of helpless giggles. Joel evades your attempts to grab his wrists, but shows you mercy when you turn around, looking up at him through your lashes like you could do no wrong.

“You’re lucky I happen to like you an awful lot.” He places both hands on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in.

You smooth your hands up his chest, admiring the soft lines by his eyes, the handsome bump of his nose. “I know. I’m the luckiest person alive.”

“No, that’s me,” Joel whispers.

He’s certain of it.

Thank you so much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts, it’s my favorite thing.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem reader smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x y/n #slow burn #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal

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tinydefector · 6 months ago

Note

Every single day I think about your post about bots being freaky xenophiles about humans it is my Roman empire

Heheheh I'm glad you guys like it but here's some other funny ideas I have of humans being stupid little creatures forgetting that the bots are literally Alien robots.

- getting smoochy with one of the Bots and attempting to fondle them, you slap their headlight and their horn honks, scaring not only you but the bot themself, it kinda ruins the mood but it's worth the laugh afterwards.

- specifically an Optimus Prime one. Having to tell this bot to get a power wash before he's allowed to sleep with you becuase God forbid you have to lay beside him because all you can smell is diesel and it makes your stomach churn so badly. He will grumble about it but if it means he gets to cuddle and hold you of a night you can bet your boots he is squeaky clean. (Also leads to alot of bathroom fun)

- taking any of the speedsters to a show and shine, it's like a fuckin car porn show and the bots are just stunned. Rodimus is having the time of his life literally having humans touching every inch of him as they admire his paint and engine. He loves it even more when you get the bucket of water out. It becomes something he regularly ask you to go do with him becuase he loves having you dressed up all nice and showing him off. In more than one way the praise really makes him feel worth it. He loves having you lean into his engine bay asking if he's alright, asking to just let them know when he wants to go. And this bot treats you to a nice beach side date after. (He has every local show and shine dated) other bots who love this consist of. Tracks, Jazz, Mirage, Knockout(he likes making Breakdown Jealous. Get cucked in the back row)

-rust, it is ratchets most hated thing to deal with because of how corrosive it is to their frames, and trying to find something on earth that works well enough to clear it off so he can do surgerys leads him to the humans gifting him a large thing of Coca-Cola, it works just as well as clean cutter (cybertronian rust remover), when he realises the ingredients are very similar it makes life so much easier until he catches The humans drinking it and he nearly has a spark attack trying to make them regurgitate it. It leads to him finding out that humans casually drink it when they really shouldn't.

- the bugs and insect carnage left in the bots grills, windshield and just small gaps. The horror on one of the humans face when they kiss their bot and then that taste the nastness of dead bugs. Or them enjoying laying on their bot and then a spider crawls out of a gap, scurring right towards them. It leads to the bots regularly getting washes alot more that they ever would have on cybertron, and it's time each bot loves so much. Becuase it develops into pull sized bathtubs, power washing, polished and just proper care given to them.

Here's also a collection of new things humans do that become kinks or fetishes for the bots.

- cleaning/ washing,

- panel beating and repairs

-causal car maintenance

________________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago

Note

For the prompt event just one more from me- Writer's choice Freebee for any character and prompt(s) you want

As a treat

I WANNA WRITE LICKING BOOTS OR HEELS i dont really care which character

Dom!Rich!reader x sub!Broke!male!character

Warning: sadistic reader & masochistic character, sugar baby character, boots/ shoes licking (the soles too), dirt eating, power play, mention of vomit (didn’t happen), stepping, cumming untouched, degration

Anniversary event

He was just so pathetic you couldn’t help it. Really, it made your senses get disoriented whenever you pretty begs you with his tail between his legs, asking for money with an ashamed look across his face. Your sweet little sugar baby was insatiable, wasnt he? The audacity he had, to ask for more when he was already getting a lot— and he knew very well how ungrateful that must sound. That’s why the least he could do is get on his knee while hesitantly pleading with you, not even daring to look you in the eyes.

Gently, you tapped his clothed thighs with the tip of your shoe, staring down at him all amused. He didn’t know, since he wasn’t looking at you, but you enjoyed seeing him embarrass himself whenever he just acts so damn disgraceful. Slowly, you moved your leg upwards. First along his thighs, to his pelvis, ignoring his bulge— then tracing the outlines of his bellybutton, up to his chest and lastly— right below his chin and tilting his face upwards.

“What is it this time?” You questioned coldly, betraying your true emotions. “…I erm, god, c-could I get a little more ca-,,, pocket money?” His words were bitter, he felt uncomfortable muttering such things, be it due to shame or other reasons. “Didn’t you just got it last week?” He was dead silent, so quiet even, that he could hear the tapping of your finger on your knee. “I know- I just, I need it. Just a little bit, it’s not much to you anyway right?” How you adored that little tremble in his voice, he truly was tailored to fit your taste.

You sighed, acting all begrudgingly, “can’t you at least tell me why you need the cash?” Instead of answering, he just pleaded, “please, just a little more, I only need like 2k—!” You interrupted him by tapping his cheek with your shoe, chuckling in disbelief, “hah! A little? Sweetie, you think I’m a tree that grows money?” He was sweating a little, skin glistening under the low-saturated light of the lamp. “It means a lot to me, please… master?”

Would you look at that, now he’s using every trick in the book to try to win you over.

“That’s not enough to convince me~” you ended your sentence with a higher pitch, exposing yourself, giving him hints on what he should do. This was not the first time you’ve played this game with him, so luckily he still remembers your teachings. “I’ll do my best to persuade you then…” he whispered meekly, hands bawled into fists as he rests them on the ground, turning his face around a little to push your shoes to his lips.

With lingering skepticism, he stuck his tongue out, licking a long trail over the front of your footwear. The material was shining with his spit now, all clean and rid of any dust. The male grimaced silently, before swallowing the lump in his throat. You watched with preying eyes and a sadistic smirk, enjoying the show he was putting on for you. Next, he used the tip of his tongue to lick over the sides, trying hard to ignore the straight up awful taste of dirt. He didn’t even want to think about what exactly he was eating, squeezing his eyes shut, doing it with his intuition.

You helped him a little as well, moving your foot up and down to grant him easier access. A pool of arousal building in your stomach as you restrained your desire to be even more mean, to step and to kick him, to make him do even more nasty stuff— all that can wait. For now, you’ll focused on the appetiser.

Once he was done with polishing your shoes with his hot and wet muscle, he gulped down all the filth, pondering over whether or not this was enough. He didn’t need to think a lot, because you answered his confusions for him by pressing soles of your footgear against his face. “You aren’t done yet, pretty boy.” Shivers ran down his spine at the horrors and humiliation, though it turned into perverted lust in the matter of seconds. He had to take a few seconds to prepare himself mentally, but then he stuck his tongue out again.

He brought it across your soles once, licking all across the place. The taste of sand and was seems to be glass plagued his taste buds, and he gaged. Nonetheless, he managed to swallow it, at the price of feeling something coming up as he did. His cheeks darkened into a blush, droplets of sweat rolling down the sides of his forehead. You didn’t say much as you watched him with intense eyes. Even though he wasn’t looking up at you, he could still feel your gaze, and he shook slightly at the thought of that.

Many minutes passed, and the longer this went on, the more he became erect. Was it because of your watching gaze, piercing through his soul? Or was it due to his perverted nature, because he enjoyed the pain and humiliation? It was a question he didn’t want to answer, out of consideration for his remaining pride. The feeling of vomiting was tattering inside him, he felt a little nauseous as well, but he succeeded in pushing through it all, cleaning your shoes with great precision.

Soon, it was as clean as new.

At that point his tongue felt sore, and the sand was crunching between his teeth. Some tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, all due to the overwhelmingly terrible taste. Finally, you talked again, he was starting to miss your voice, he desperately needed you to guide him through it all, to make him feel better. “Good job, you did so good, good boy.” You reached out to pat his head, stroking through his hair a little.

This gentleness was such a stark contrast to what happened only minuets before, that his entire body was shaken with pleasure. He couldn’t help but whine pathetically, bucking his hard on up against nothing. You didn’t even notice how he got hard, and how his pre was soaking through his pants already. Smiling all content, you pressed down on the tent with your now almost sparkling shoe, commenting, “such a dirty masochist, you enjoyed choking on the filthy that clung to my shoes? I guess that suits mutt like you.”

Again, he whined, bending forwards with his upper body, hands twitching to grab your ankle but he knew better than to act on his impulses. “Hnng.. y-yes.. I’m just a dirty mutt.” God, just look at how big your grin grew. “Well, but I can’t deny you did a great job. Fine I’ll give you 1K.” You then applied more pressure to his bulge, making him arch his back and moan out in blissful, ecstatic pain, “ahh-nHGHHh..!!??”

His eyes rolled to the back of his scull, drool running down his chin. This defiles form of his was more than depraved, it was sinful and degenerate. “To get to 2k… you’ll have to clean it again.” You stated, pressing down even more, causing him to cum into his pants. “HaaAaNNGghh…! Y/nnnNghh ♥︎♡～” He was already so worked up from before, and so sensitive due to your degration, please don’t blame him for cumming so fast…♡

Instead of being mad, you laughed, and brought your now in cum covered shoe to his lips again, tapping his flush lips. “So, get to work, pretty boy.”

He really needed the money after all, so he had no choice but to oblige, right? And it was surely sorely for the money ♥︎

(Edit: don’t ask why I wrote this with Toji in mind, also with the reader being younger [to add more shame], but that’s for you to decide)

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aunt-bridget · 2 months ago

Text

It had been an emotional path to salvation for this pretty little thing……a visit to Aunt Bridget was long overdue.

Weeks and months of training, humiliation and ultimately, complete subjugation was administered to turn this toxic young man into a sweet little maid. Previously, this slut wouldn’t think of anyone else, they would leave their filth and crap for others to deal with and be a generally unpleasant little prick.

Now my methods can be ponderous, maybe a little long winded on occasion. It would have been so easy to whip and peg the shit out of this poor excuse of a human being, but I believed in a gentler process.

And now look. What a transformation.

The nicely fitted black pvc maids dress sits so perfectly on the slim frame, black stockings and shiny fuck me heels have encouraged some very feminine affectations. The gorgeous red nails and delightfully slutty make up certainly seem to get her very excited, especially with a head of flowing blonde bimbo hair to complete the tarty look.

The sturdy collar and steel cuffs make sure no unauthorised freedom is attained and we also have a strict code of silence. A selection of worn panties…either mine or theirs is placed in the mouth at all times. The muzzle keeps everything in place and the nasty little cock is locked away for good. A generous plug is stretching this virgin ass out and my maid has come to associate the shameful feelings of pleasure with this sissy stimulation.

A Pavlovian response is always assured when I peel my panties off and let them drop to the floor. My girl knows the muzzle is about be unbuckled briefly for a gag change. The pretty eyes lower in embarrassment as I feel the warm leakage from the cage….just before my ripe underwear goes in that pretty little painted mouth.

But it’s not all fun and games at the house. The slut is still caught humping my boots as they polish them and we have to start the whole cleaning routine again. I firmly believe we are going to achieve perfect sissification, but I have warned my little maid that a trip to the vet might have to happen if these urges continue.

#cd #glam girl #caught sissy #bound #punishment #conditioning #strict aunt

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?

thank you jade 💛

thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k

"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong."

Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances.

You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–"

Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair.

"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye."

You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash."

Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too."

"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?"

Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan.

"I love the carrots," she says.

"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind."

Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"

She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar.

"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?"

"I'm thinking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh.

"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me."

"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead.

It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?"

"Not that."

"What is it?" you ask.

She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt.

"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying.

—

Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over.

He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy."

His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen.

Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?"

Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob.

"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?"

"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says.

"Oh. Thank you, Ro."

"You're a dumb man."

"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid."

"It's silly," Roan murmurs.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"

He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.

"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour.

"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy."

"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?"

"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom."

Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl.

"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back.

"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs.

"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."

"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say."

Eddie feels himself physically melt.

He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints.

You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt.

"What?" he asks you.

You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again."

Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be.

That's not what she's asking, though.

"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back.

"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers.

Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–"

"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off.

Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah."

"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?"

"No," Roan says with a pout.

"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you."

You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?"

"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson."

"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last."

Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says.

You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world.

I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down.

"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask.

"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway."

"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right."

He flexes appreciatively at your comment.

Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls.

"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me."

"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic.

You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome."

You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair.

"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro.

He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me."

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squibsformers · 1 month ago

Text

Miscommunication

Rodimus x Human Reader, Drift x Ratchet x Human Reader

Summary: After Rodimus tried looping you into something you really weren't into, you sought out your other partners to complain about his reveal of character.

Word Count: 1,128

AN: NSFW suggestive talk, no outright smut. Also hi this is my first tf writing soooo lmk what your thoughts are, i love comments. I'm already working on a reader insert series and wanted to start with a few one off bits. Enjoy! tagging valveplug just in case.

Drift looked up when you entered the medbay, his greeting dying on his glossa as his field just PINGED with the waves of displeasure coming off you.

“Jeez… what's got you all wound up, huh?” He straightened his backstuts as he stood up more from the desk he leaned over, messing with Ratchet temporarily set aside.

You hissed a rush of words under your breath as you strutted in, something that he couldn't TELL what was said but he understood it wasn't very polite. Even the older medic bot lifted his head to address you.

“I only managed to make out Rodimus in all that. What did our oh so brilliant captain do to piss you off?”

“I thought this whole time we were leading up to something… fun. But it turns out I misread every step. He thinks he's BETTER than me.”

“He's the captain, he is better than you.”

You whipped your head around to glare at Ratchet. “Better enough that I deserve to clean the dirt off his kibble with my tongue?? Because I feel that's pretty fucking degrading.”

Both bots stilled, and the medic's “Wait, what-” was interrupted by Drift stalling briefly and talking over him. “That doesn't sound at ALL like something Roddy would say.”

“I thought so, too.” You huffed before your attitude melted into something a bit sadder. “I mean… I've been flirting with him for so long, and he's been receptive towards it. You even told me he said he likes me. So I don't know where this came from…”

Groaning, you put your face in your hands, and idly Ratchet patted your back while working (and half listening).

“I didn't even think that would be a thing with you guys, making someone tongue-polish your like, plating and stuff.”

“That sounds like something Megatron would have had Starscream do back in the day,” Ratchet groused, making Drift mock gagging.

“I'm going to purge my tank, don't make me think about those two like that.” A shudder wracked the ex ‘con's frame. “Eugh. No it's not really a thing with us. Is…is it a human thing?”

“Ah…” The question made you pause to think. “Not… really? I mean, kind of. It's usually an extremely exaggerated form of punishment from someone who wants to uh… show superiority while demeaning the other. Though it's shoes or boots for us, not armor spikes. The idea is to polish the dirtiest article of clothing with their tongue - or glossa - so they feel... sub-human. Though there's always exceptions, and some people are into that kinda thing as like, a kink? But it's really not…what I'm looking for.” You wince.

….Ratchet paused his comforting as he listened, before turning to look you over. “Hold on, back up. Armor spikes… kid, what did Rodimus say to you?”

Drift leaned over the autobot's shoulder, studying you closely. The samurai looked both confused…and disbelieving.

Alright, fine then.

“He said ‘Y’know… Maybe you can put that glossa of yours to use and… clean my spikes with it.’” They let out a grumble. “I didn't peg him for the degrading type…”

The two mechs went oddly quiet and still.

“Spikes… plural?” Drift pressed.

You thought back more, mulling the memory over, of the captain of the Lost Light leering down at you with that heated smirk and his thumb on your cheek…and shook your head.

“No, sorry. Just spike.”

“PFFT-”

You looked up to see Drift looking away, one of his servos clamped over his intake as he cackled. His limbs shook and he held onto Ratchet to steady himself. The medic was looking away, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook.

He was also laughing at you.

“What. WHAT! HEY?? HELLO!!”

“Kid…Kid, Sp..spike is another term we have for plug.” Ratchet mumbled out. Still laughing. Very much laughing at you. His words caused Drift to wheeze and bend over, his vents stuttering as he cackled.

“He was asking you to interface finally and you totally missed it..!! Oh Primus help me, what did you say? What did you say, tell me. Please, it has to be good.”

Your face got warm as you thought of the fact that you had finally gotten Rodimus interested enough he would make a bold pass. Your face was hot when you realized you had totally missed his signals. Your face was practically on fire when it clicked just how badly you fumbled the whole interaction.

“I… I said Ew, no thanks. And came here-”

“THAAAAHAHAATS THE WORST THING YOU C-COOOHOULD HAVE SAID!!! AAAHAHAGHA OH PRIMUS-”

“Frag me, kid you did not-”

There was no saving you. Both mechs were now openly laughing at your misery. Your face buried in your hands you mumbled out a weak “How was I supposed to know!” that only made Drift start losing it all over again.

After some time (Ten. Minutes.) the two much larger beings had settled, Ratchet returning to his work and chuckling on occasion while Drift…pestered you over your absolute dropping of the ball.

“I can't believe this. I'm almost scared to flirt with you now because you may not get it!”

“Driiiiift…!” You whined, the cheeky samurai squeezing your hips. “Let me go, I want to jettison myself out of the airlock.”

“Not a chance!! I mean I want to make sure if I tell you I wanna have you eat my valve from the back that you aren't going to mistake it for me, say, threatening to mug you or something.”

Your face was bright red. “Drift!!”

“Or, oh man, if I tell you I want to slot my plug between your thighs, maybe you'll think I'm wanting you to-”

“RATCHET! DRIFT IS BULLYING ME AGAIN!” Complaining loudly, you squirmed in Drift's hold while eyeing his Conjux, displeased and humiliated and hoping the medic would scold him or something.

Ratchet barely spared you a glance with his optics as he continued his inventory count. He was literally busy and not paying attention to you two.

“Between words from attractive mechs, manhandling, and something almost too big to go in, you enjoy being bullied, and all of us here are very aware of it,” drawled the grouch's response.

You stared at him, mouth dropped open in shock and WORSE embarrassment at how he called your bullshit out. All while Drift began cackling all over again.

—

You stared up at the habisuite door, staring at the imposing metal barrier of captain Rodimus Prime's personal chambers. Your stomach twisted in knots nervously, your palms somewhat sweaty as you raised a fist and knocked hard, twice. Mentally, you prepared your apology as you heard shuffling and the soft clank of pedes across a metal floor.

God, you hoped the mech thought stupid was hot.

#transformers x human #transformers x reader #drift x reader #ratchet x reader #rodimus x reader #valveplug #tf x human #tf x reader #reader insert

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mad-maximoff · 10 months ago

Text

We Met Again

Part 2 of When We Met since y’all asked so damn much! I just hope this one doesn't get censored too😅

Summary: You were on a 6-month-long mission with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes only to come back to the compound and face Wanda.

Warnings: G!P reader, angst, making out, unprotected sex, ejaculation , soft sex turned rough, hair-pulling, breaking the bed (literally😂),

Word Count: 3,702

Prt 1 Here

"Welcome back Y/n, how was your little adventure with the boys?" Kate Bishop stood behind the bar making herself a pink alcoholic slush of some sort. You were covered in dirt and soot from head to toe. You just got off a mission with Sam and Bucky. You were in Egypt going about looking for a highly classified terrorist ring. Thankfully you got to them before they started their reign.

"Adventure my ass. I slept on the dirt while the boys slept in cozy beds like princesses. I tell you what I need is a shower and to take a well-deserved dirt nap in a real bed." You threw your weapons on the table halting at a chair and flinging off your boots. "I'll clean this shit up later Kat, I've been waiting for this." You turned to see Kate pouring herself a tall misshapen glass full of pink slush. "Sure thing Y/n, you and I are the only ones here I think. You want the rest?" She licked the side of her glass where she spilt. "Why not, might help me crash harder." You reached around Kate grabbing the whole blender. There was more than a mouthful left. You thought maybe it was strawberry daiquiri, so you thought nothing of it and chugged it. The first sip made you gag.

"Jesus Christ Bishop! Paloma? Really? What are you 40? You've been around Potts too long. Good lord.." You hated tequila, especially grapefruit. You polished it off not backing down leaving it on a table in the middle of the hallway. You knew there were empty beds not touched by any of the other Avengers. Basically new. It was funny really. Everything to you looked new but it was just the same as the last time you were down this hallway. Maybe it looked new because the last time you were here you were drunk with your pants around your ankles. Come to think of it. That table was new. You pivoted around noticing the table on further inspection. You saw a crack along the wall. Oh yeah, you remember. That was the spot. The spot where you and Wanda...

Yeah...Wanda...

You remember where her room was. You remember you crashed there after you both finished your fun in the hall. Curiosity killed the cat. You noticed the door was slightly cracked allowing light to shine through. But it was almost midnight, it wasn't natural light. It was from a light. Is she there? Did she forget to turn off the lights? Maybe. You pondered. Kate did say after all you two were the two here so it was bound she forgot. It's a common mistake.

You tip-toed over to her room letting your fingers creep through the part between the door and the wall slightly allowing the length of your fingers to pry the door a bit more. Your strength got the hold of you as it flung open. Wanda was sitting at the edge of her bed in her room, with her leg raised to lean her elbow on her knee, underneath her chin.

"Kate honey I told you for the third time today. We can drink and watch Sex and The City tomorrow. I don't feel up to it." She huffed watching the news. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes darting back and forth watching the live footage of whatever catastrophe happened. "So you're the one drinking Palomas huh?" You leaned in the door frame crossing your arms. You had to laugh. You never thought she was a cocktail girl. Though..you never thought she was the kind to give blowjobs either but you were surprised by both.

"Oh..it's you...no I don't drink that shit. She found Tony's recipe book for Pepper and his date nights and she's drinking like a fish...When did you come back to the States?" She was genuinely surprised to see me. Her leg fell from where it was prompted. Wanda stood up walking the length of her bedframe around to meet you.

You were shocked also. Maybe she wasn't showing yet? You swore you thought you'd come home and find her pregnant but unless she's super athletic or has it hidden she doesn't look like she's expecting.

"Ah 30 minutes ago. Um..stupid question.." You scratched your head looking down at Wanda then back up at her eyes. She laughed standing in front of you. Her hand reached to your cheek whipping the loose dirt from your undereye.

"Haha no! Unfortunately, I'm not pregnant. I don't know how. I always thought that first tries always work. I even helped you out a bit."

"Unfortunately? You wanted me to get you pregnant? Are you insane? You don't even know me and you want kids from me! I'm too young to have a family! Even with my powers...let alone, what gives you the right to choose for me!" You broke her hand away backing away. You had to leave or else there'll be bigger cracks in the wall.

"Y/n please, I never meant to hurt you. I just got confused that's all. You were so nice to me and after I lost Vis 2 times and lost my boys I just felt you comforted me. That's all." Wanda reached again grasping your bicep. You pulled away again this time hitting the wood casing around the frame with your elbow. The wood casing flew off behind you hitting the hallway floor.

"No! Don’t you dare touch me! All you cared about was yourself! Just because someone showed you comfort doesn't mean you let them cum inside you, Wanda! That's really fucked up! I'm sorry you lost your family but you can't just use me to play house!" You growled noticing your rage was becoming the better of you. Wanda through your eyes was becoming tiny. Her body language was making her small. Curling her fingers into the sleeves of her black cardigan, crossing her arm over to her elbow. She looked down at her bare feet letting out a shakey breath.

"I'm really sorry Y/n...I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so used to having people around me. That it feels weird to be by myself." Wanda's head was bowed letting her newly brown hair almost cover her head. A tiny tear ran down her blushed cheek wiping it away quickly.

All you saw was red. Not by Wanda's magic. But for some reason, you were enraged. How could you be this angry over something you fully did with Wanda 6 months ago? Maybe you do have a tiny bit of an anger problem. Little? In this case, that's an understatement.

You huffed feeling the hot pressure on your chest cool down to your stomach. You think seeing Wanda so visibly upset may have broken your cross attitude.

"Get used to it, Wanda." You had to storm off. If the conversation got any more heated; one of you was going to end up in a wall. And it was most likely going to be you. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe if I get some sleep and a good shower I can speak to her more clearly.

You thought gliding to one of the newly furnished rooms.

Each room had its own bathroom. Tony is a playboy so obviously the bathroom was soundproof. The entire compound was all technology so a press of a button and the bedroom could be soundproof. You didn't need that tonight. You wished there was a switch to soundproof your head.

How could I snap like that? I haven't done that in years! What the hell was I thinking to begin with?! You felt like you could stand under the hot water for hours. It took two layers of body wash just to scrub away the dirt from your body and finally feel human. Maybe you were scrubbing off your anger with it in a sense. You had your little outbursts but this one almost made you black out. Your lofa scraped at your skin furiously, leaving little imprints everywhere. Your back flexed in the mirror examining your clean body. Your hips were women but your shoulders and torso were the shape of a man. You had average-sized breasts. They were nothing special, they were nice to look at but nothing that could turn any heads. Perhaps you could say they were bigger than average but you never noticed.

You got out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your waistbone, as you inhaled walking to the foot of your bed your v-line showed every breath you took. You thought if someone was to walk in it would be less surprising seeing you topless instead of bottomless.

"Fuck...you got buff little one.." You gasped in fright hearing Wanda's quiet voice coming from the chair hidden next to the wall. Wanda's makeup was smeared all over her under her eyes. She was sniffling back what little tears she produced. She was crying heavily, using the sleeves of her cardigan. "What the fuck do you want now? Can't you see I'm busy? I'm not giving in to your mind games." You turned to face your back to her loosening the towel from your waist to dry your legs. You reached around putting on a pair of boxer briefs. You heard a creek come from the corner of your room knowing Wanda got up. Her bare feet were quiet on the hardwood but not quiet enough for you to hear.

"No mind games Y/n. I-I...wanted to apologize...you were right. I need to start learning how to be on my own. I deserve to be alone. I shouldn't have let you do those things to me." She held back a cry making her eyes gloss over.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I was actually going to apologize to you. I don't know what came over me. I lost my temper too quickly. I haven't done that in years. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Your hands lifted Wanda's chin to look at you, letting all of her hair fall back behind her shoulders. She looked like a baby raccoon. It was cute but you felt awful that she was crying because of you. "I'm so sorry Wanda." Wanda's hands placed around your hips, sliding herself closer to your body. You pulled her in deeper holding her close. Her head rested on your shoulder letting her finish her cries. Your hands caressed her skull, intertwining with her locs.

"It's okay..please, please stop crying. You're making me feel worse." You sat her down on the foot of the bed still massaging Wanda's head. She buried her face in your chest noticing her sobs being muffled into silent sniffles. One of your hands dropped placing it on her chest, directly on top of her heart. Her beats were rapid on the first touch, but once you dragged your fingertips along her skin she settled. Your other hand finally dropped rubbing her spine. She was frail in comparison to your body. Every muscle you flexed made it seem more apparent.

"Thank you," she sniffled, using her sleeve to wipe away her stained makeup. "Thank you very much Y/n. I feel like sometimes I can just go off the handle." Wanda wiped another tear with her sleeve again, the tears glossed in her eyes and made her pupils sparkle as she looked so passionately into your eyes.

"It's fine Wanda. We all go off the handle some days. I did it on you earlier. We just need to relax a little. The both of us."

╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳

You and Wanda laid down together in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence however, it felt somehow to you a healing silence. You two didn’t need to talk, that’s what got you two into shit before. Just cuddling together. Wanda laid her head on your bare chest. You threw on a random stupid movie on TV, it was one of those goofy movies that two dudes probably smoked a joint and started filming. You didn’t like it; Wanda found it comical. She’d laugh at the slightest action or joke. 15 minutes later however she was silent. You peered down checking up on her. Her eyes fluttered, she was falling asleep. You twitched which made her jump.

“Jesus…what’s happened?” She whispered. I knew she fell asleep for a moment. You could hear it in her tone. Groggy and low.

“Nothing sorry. My leg just spasmed. It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.” Your hand ran down Wanda's thigh. Her skin was soft just like you remembered.

“Shut up, I wasn't sleeping.” She giggled rolling her head the other way.

“Oh I'm sorry, I just saw the stucco on the ceiling coming apart so I thought you were snoring.” You joked.

“Fuck off!” She laughed sitting up on your lap. “I do not snore!” Her hands grasped a fist full of your bare breasts in either hand. It felt good to be handled again. As soon as her hands touched you that way, you instantly felt you were getting hard. It wasn't an embarrassment any longer. You had another one-night encounter after Wanda that made feel 10x better about your appearance.

“No, that's just loudly humming in your sleep isn't it?” Your hands tightened around her hips slowly moving them back and forth. Wanda sucked air through her teeth letting a little gasp. "Ohh-stop!" She laughed biting her lower lip. "You want something else don't you detka?" Her dress grazed the front of your boxers, just to tease you.

"Perhaps. This time, it's on my terms. This time." Your hands pushed down on Wanda's thighs rubbing your forming bludge on the fabric of her panties. Her brows raised, turning her cheeks into a rose colour. "Really? Would you still want to? Even after everything I did?..."

“Of course.” You freed your hands from her thighs, swishing a strand of her hair away from her face looking into her emerald eyes. She giggled again looking down at your chest. “You’re tits are huge Y/n.” Wanda’s hands clutched my full chest. "I don't think I saw them last time." She squeezed each handful. You whinced with her nails digging into your skin.

"Ha! Well, I hope you remember something else's size." You joked lightly tugging at your boxers. “Hmm..I think I definitely need a refresher.” Wanda tugged the hem of her dress; pulling it over her head as her arms whisked it to the floor. Wanda’s hands jerked at the elastic band around your hips. Your fairly large erection greeted both of you with a fair shock as it bounced its way to freedom. “Oh yes, I remember now.” Her tongue folded against the tops of her teeth. Your hands held a firm grip on either side of Wanda’s panties ripping them off. “Seems you don’t need this huh?” She giggled letting out a small whimper. “Fuck-…can we stop all this talking Y/n? I really need you.” Your fingers trailed along her mound going further in her slit. Her inner core was silk. Your finger slipped inside effortlessly. Her little sounds became more low. “Oh…g-god.” Her head dropped down making her lips lay on mine. "Stop fucking teasing me..." She groaned as her teeth bit the bottom of my lip. "Okay, you asked for it." You flipped Wanda onto her back. The bed's feet raised as the bed made a thump. "Did you want condoms?"

"N-no. No, Wanda, I can pull out." You bent down locking your lips with hers again. "Haha..sure, sure you can Y/n." Wanda's eyes glowed red again briefly. "Fuck no more games. Just let me fuck you by myself." Your fingers slid between Wanda's folds before slipping your cock inside. She gasped curling her fingers into the sheets. Your hands planted on the mattress on either side of Wanda's head. She uncurled her fingers from the bedsheets, moving them around your wrists. Her breaths were choppy trying to get ahold. You thought she looked so beautiful underneath you, the way her skin naturally glowed, her pearly white smile chewing her bottom lip, the way she looked at you. Not in a loving way just yet, in an adoring way? A needing way.

"Go on. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, sweetheart." Your hips dove in feeling her walls coating you effortlessly. Wanda’s whines grew deafening, her eyes did not stop turning shades of red.

“Oh shit…y/n…uh-…” Wanda's head rolled back on the mattress. Dropping her jaw open. You began to thrust with a heavy pace. Becoming quick with every moan that escaped Wanda’s lips. The bed frame formed a squeaking noise with each pump into the brunette. Wanda’s leg had a hard time trying to stay afloat around your hips, slipping every movement you two shared. You stopped pulling out briefly.

“What-..Y/n? Why did stop?! Continuă…” Wanda cried out allowing her hands to fall scratching your biceps. “I will, don't worry. Go flip on your stomach, on your knees and bend over.” Wanda sighed a sly smile flipping onto her knees, arching her back letting her chest lay on the mattress. She glanced over her shoulder with her hair covering her face. Your hand traced her temple softly, leading your fingers into the brunette's long strands. Grasping a fistful of Wanda’s hair. You peered down watching your cock twitch in anticipation with Wanda’s ass sway in the same feeling of suspense. Your other hand grasped Wanda’s thigh sliding your shaft back into her slick folds.

“Oh…fuck-” Wanda sucked air through her teeth tilting her head down with your hand still tight on her hair. You did begin to thrust slowly as you once did, you began to ram yourself deeply inside the witch as though you were pushing through air. Wanda's hand gave out mid-pump landing on her chest. Her hands gripped the bedsheets as she tried to move her head to a more comfortable spot. "Fuck...you have such a nice ass." You twisted Wanda's hair around your knuckles applying a forceful tug. Her head raised leaving a spot of drool on the sheets. "Uh-huh!" Wanda's head cocked further to watch you. Your hand jerked the fistful of Wanda's hair pulling her hair as hard as you could muster without ripping all of her hair out entirely. Her body lifted off the mattress onto her knees. Her back pressed on your chest laying her head on your shoulder. "Oh god!...Shit!" Your wrist could not take it anymore, you let go of Wanda's hair allowing it to fall behind your shoulder. Your hand relaxed on Wanda's thigh attaching every finger around the softest part of her leg. Wanda's arm flung around your throat holding herself up. "Shit...I'm going to cum..." Wanda's moans were silent as she took a small breath. "Huh? Good baby...me too." You sighed out feeling yourself climbing higher and higher up to your point of no return. "Do it Y/n." Wanda used her knees bouncing her body against you.

"Do what Wand?" You groaned in her ear smelling her sweet perfume sweat off onto you. "Cum in me...please..." Her cheek heated on yours as you felt her jaw lock open not letting another sound out. "Y-you sure? I don't know." You did not want to take that chance again, you had some rendezvous with a certain green bulky woman in Egypt, knowing you mastered your craft of pulling out. If you did not get her pregnant 6 months ago, hell, you couldn't do it again right?

"F-fine...you want me to cum inside you huh?" You huffed tightening your grip on Wanda's thighs, the wooden bedframe continued to rattle. The frame began to bell out with your knees ready to cave. "Yes! Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Cum inside me Y/n! Fill me!" Wanda's voice shrieked out letting go of a low-toned moan. "Oh god! I'm cumming!" Wanda grasped firmly on your neck vibrating her entire body. Her eyes glow red tracing red mists around both of your bodies. "Fuck!" The pressure within you exploded, you could not think if it was you that came or if Wanda had some help to speed it up. You felt your cock throb spewing out your cum in the witch. She tried her best to make her body stay still, her thighs would not stop fidgeting. You bucked your knees forward to have Wanda fall on her stomach as you fell with her. The bedframe finally gave way as the mattress hit the floor. You both hit a thump, Wanda chuckled under your body softly as she took a quick breath. "Well, shit. How do you expect to explain this to Tony?"

"We'll blame Kate," You sighed wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. "She got too drunk and we found her jumping on the bed. Agreed?"

"Agreed detka. Let's get out of here. We can go to my room." You arose to see the bedposts still standing but the wood beams holding the bed just fell. "Well, this was a great welcome back." You stretched out your arms above your head hearing the cracks of your shoulder blades. "I'd say so." You stood up from the mattress whisking your boxers off the floor.

"Y/n? You don't need those." Wanda sat up on her knees running her hands through her hair. You bent over as you picked Wanda up by her thighs and wrapped them around your waist. "Haha! I sure do. I don't want to scare Kate if we run into her." You took hefty strides over to the bedroom door, making your way down the hall to Wanda's room. Wanda draped her hands around your neck giving a sly little smile as she looked over her shoulder. Her wrist flicked a red mist, you witnessed the red mist run down the staircase doing nothing after it left the stairs. "There. She won't bug us. I put her to sleep for the night. Now, we can have more fun."

"Good. Let's hope I don't break your bed this time."

"Well, don't promise that. I'd love you to ruin me." Her finger traced along your jaw down your throat. "Ask, and you shall receive."

#wandamaximoff #scarlet witch #lgbt #lesbian #fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #g!p #g!p reader #marvel fanfic #Marvel #fanfic #wlw fanfic #wlw

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pantheresssy · 5 months ago

Text

CONQUERING.

—┊⋆ summary: you were a little bit older, who was looking for it? if you have a daughter too, who would care? paige didn’t until she was face to face with a overprotective 7-years-old little you.

—┊⋆ cw: r is on 30s and paige 22s, you also have a daughter, no smut this time only fluff, p is so sweet and i brought this here with ur baby, her name’s kayla btw just thought about it after reading a kk fic.

this is something im experiencing to see if anyone would like and want more of this dynamic.

IF SOMEONE told Paige that she would be sitting on a couch nervously cleaning her hands on her pants, all because of a 7-years-old child, she would laugh. It seemed weird, someone with her height, a basketball player, be afraid of someone so little that could cause no harm — but she was your daughter, a little you. That should frighten the toughest of the fighters.

On court, she was relaxed as if she was on her bed, but there, she was sweating while looking at the stairs you went up. You told her that your daughter’s opinion had so many value for you, and that was one of the — many — things that frightened her. If she didn’t like Paige, everything could go down. And that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

“Mommy,” she heard and swallowed. Little footsteps came along with yours, and the pink boots was the first thing she saw. Up close, she was more you than yourself was. From the hair to the nose, it was like a printer had made that child, even her voice was like yours, soft spoken, but in a more infant way.

Paige’s eyes followed up the girl’s extended arm, her hand being held by yours. She found your gaze and you raised your eyebrows, a sign for her to calm down. The words she was saying stopped when you bent down by her side, your cheek against your daughter’s. “Kayla, that’s Paige. The friend I told you about.”

The blonde smiled, nervously. Kayla looked at her up and down, as if she was a grown adult, and that was the most cutest, yet the most scary, ㅤׁthing. “Hi,” she said after analyzing Paige meticulously.

“Hey.” You brought her closer and sat by Paige’s side, the girl on your lap. With her nervousness, you were sure she would pass out in the middle of your couch. “I’m Paige.”

Your daughter shocked her head, humming. “I know. Mommy told me you were a basketball player.”

“I am.”

Kayla made a pout, lowering her eyes to your hands joined in her belly, taking one of your fingers to play with it. “I like volleyball more.”

You ran your hand through her hair and bit your lip to hold your laugh. You knew she was only doing that to know how Paige would react, to know if she could really like her. It was an old trick she used to know if someone was cool enough. “Yeah. K loves volleyball.” it was an attempt to help, but it fell into deaf ears.

Paige sat on her side, facing you. Her blue eyes passed to you, then back to Kayla. “It’s great.” she cleared her throat and kept looking for words. “Will you want to play one day?”

Your daughter made a face, shaking her head no. “I want to make movies.” she took your nail and started to remove removing your nail polish with hers. “Like mommy.”

Paige frowned her eyebrows. “She found a thing that I did when I was a teen and thought that it was a movie.” you kissed her ear, making her laugh. “But it was just a silly video.”

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, but you dismissed it shrugging. “Why do you play basketball?” Kayla asked.

“I like it since I was younger than you.” Kayla’s eyes shone and she blinked, trying to pretend she wasn’t interested. “I started to play when I was five.”

Your daughter frowned her eyebrows, and Paige almost laughed of how much she was like you doing that. “Your mom let you do it?”

“My dad did.”

You could see that she was getting more excited to know everything and started to make more questions, in which Paige responded happily. You were sitting quiet, only observing while she talked about how she always can get the basket right.

When you first told Kayla that you had a famous friend and that she wanted to meet her, she quickly went to your phone and searched for Paige’s name — with some wrong letters of her non writing hands. She saw pictures, videos, anything that pops up when you put ‘Paige Bueckers’ on google. You knew that her interested was bigger than she showed, but she wanted that Paige conquered her to know if she was cool enough to be your friend. It wasn’t a common thing, but you were just letting it happen this time.

The talk kept going and you saw the blonde relaxing little by little, Kayla getting more open to talk and leaving aside her play pretend.

Her being just like you was a blessing and a curse. As a child, you were always asking so many questions, and she was doing too. But she had something you didn’t had when you were younger: a better perspective. So when, in the middle of the talk about basketball, she raised her head on your chest, looking at you from below, you imagined that she would say anything but what you tried not to make so obvious.

“Mommy is she your girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened and your breath cached on your throat. Paige was getting whiter — she was going sick right in front of your eyes and in seconds. Kayla was still looking at you waiting for answers while you sent looks of concern to the woman by your side. “Baby …” you started. “We are-“

But then it died before you could finish. She took your words as a yes before you could actually say it. “She is!?” her feet shook and she jumped on your legs, her head hitting your chin, your teeth making a bad noise when the ones below met the top ones hard. You moaned and put your tongue on your gums, trying to find any injury. “I’m sorry.”

Kayla’s eyes quickly filled with tears and she hugged your neck, burring her face there. You rubbed her back comforting her when hiccups shook her small body. “It’s ok, baby.”

Paige swallowed hard and checked if you were okay, still stunned, and you reassured her that you were. Her hand copied yours on Kayla. With a shared look, you told her she could say it. “Your mother and I like each other very much, K.” she said. “Would you let me be her girlfriend?”

The little girl sniffed and said, stuffing: “You should ask mom, not me.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head even though Kayla couldn’t see it. “I already did and she said yes, but we wanted you to agree. What you think is important.”

“Yes.”

Her sadness vanished just like that and she quickly went back to talking, asking Paige how she started — and if things kept that way, she quickly would stop wanting do movies. When both got more excited, Kayla made Paige held her in her arms, making an improvised basket with a bucket she hung on the wall, raising her to hit there with the ball. After getting it right, she would celebrate loud, saying that she was better than the blonde. And Paige never dared to disagree.

Later, when Kayla fall sleep after talking so much and with a sigh of relief from you, Paige and you sat on the couch, your back against her front and your fingers crossed with hers. “She liked you. A lot.”

She kissed your head and smelled your hair. ‘I’m happy she does. I almost shit on my pants.”

You laughed loud, closing your mouth when you remembered Kayla. She didn’t wake up so easily, specially not after spend so much energy, but you rather not risk it. “She’s 7, Paige Bueckers.”

She shrugged. “It’s your daughter, she has a lot of you in her … I’d like to not risk anything.”

You turned around and kissed her, sighing as she put more pressure on you. “You won’t. You conquered her just like you did to me.” you held her cheeks on your hand.

“I know.”

#☄. *. ⋆#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fluff #uconn wbb #uconn huskies

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takusan-no-ai · 5 months ago

Text

You need a lollipop

PAIRING: Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is a workaholic, and his girlfriend Ellen will force him to take a break.

“I saw this one SUPER cute nail polish online yesterday!” Ruby said while walking with her friends around campus. It was break time and so the four friends, Ruby, Monna, Lynn, and Ellen, decided to just walk and talk outside.

“Really? Send it to me later…,” Ellen replied. Monna and Lynn were having a mini convo of their own, and everyone was happy. Key word, was.

A large group of boys, likely in the track team as Ellen noted, came gunning straight for them. The girls were able to dodge, but the boy in front of them with his face in a book didn’t. And so he crashed right on top of Ellen, who was too tired to dodge again.

They both rubbed their foreheads, while Ellen’s friends were giggling in the background. She looked at them confused for a moment, and then she looked at the boy straddling her; (Y/N), sits in the seat at the front of class, voted most likely to be an overachiever. She also kinda liked him. Not a lot. Only a little. Really, just a little…

Her friends were aware of this, and only helped her up after the poor boy started freaking out about it. “Don’t worry, it’s those jocks fault, not yours. Besides, everyone else is fine.” Moona calmed the situation down naturally.

Ellen didn’t make eye contact with (Y/N), her face starting to get too warm for comfort after the whole ordeal. And she just knew her friends would tease her endlessly; the thought alone made Ellen puff out her cheeks.

Some days had passed since then, with Ellen’s eyes always drifting over towards (Y/N) during class. It wasn’t until she saw him especially tired that she grew worried of his health. Though she’d never admit it directly.

He was sitting at his desk, eyes heavy with bags, hair messy, and the tips of his fingers red from the hard grip of his pencil as he scribbled down unintelligible notes. Ellen walked over to him, her tail swaying slightly back and forth. She looked around the room, making sure her friends weren’t watching.

“Hey.” She said

He shook slightly, immediately turning around to look at her. “So-sorry. How long have you been there?” (Y/N) asked. Ellen rolled her eyes and handed him a lollipop. He made a confused expression.

“You clearly need one.” She thrusted it into his hand and walked away. Before she could flee the scene he grabbed her hand and forced eye contact with her.

“Thank you. My name’s (Y/N), what’s yours?” He asked, letting go of her.

“…hmm…Ellen.”

From then on the relationship progressed smoothly, and before Ellen knew it (her friends already betted on it happening) they both started dating.

Of course, Ellen still took note of his constant over working habits; she honestly never understood it. Why didn’t he sleep more often? Sleep is great. It recovers energy, can give sweet dreams, and lets you skip hours of the day. What wasn’t there to love about it?!

So, to keep him from being in an early grave, Ellen took it upon herself to graciously expend her own energy and keep him away from work. Karaoke, skipping class, listening to concerts, even just sleeping. It didn’t always work, but she did notice a change in habits with (Y/N).

He was more willing to take breaks, and would often text Ellen about his excitement to spend more time with his girlfriend.

“Hey pup, ready for a movie night?” He asked cheerfully; his eyes were burning bright, appearance clean enough where he could be mistaken for a celeb, and a cute smile to boot.

Ellen puffed out her cheeks, this was getting too much. Love was too energy draining, especially with (Y/N); her heart kept pounding every time she’s with him, which makes her exhausted, but she likes it so she stays, which makes her really exhausted. It was a never ending cycle. And yet she still loved it.

Ellen sat down next to him, placing her tail on his lap so he could hug it. “Yeah, movie nights are only fun when I’m with you.”

- Fin

#zenless zone zero x reader #oneshot #male reader #ellen joe x reader #ellen joe

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 9 months ago

Note

can I request a NSFW read with sir pentius or lucifer x fem!dom!reader where she would be asked to polish her boots?

i went with lucifer on this but if you want pen, send in another ask for sure!

i also read this as reader is asking pen or lucifer to polish her boots soooo, if this is wrong, please, send in another ask! i’ll take another crack at it but i hope you enjoy!

nsfw under the cut, minors DNI.

lucifer is just so willing to please.

his pleasure is your pleasure

and we LOVE that about him

so when you had gotten something on your boots, his first thought wasn’t, ‘let’s get them changed’ or ‘let’s buy new ones’

no it was let me clean your boots

and you were honestly touched, and a little embarrassed because the king of hell cleaning your boots? what?

he was adamant, somehow had all the tools and everything for it too. so you’re sitting there and he is happily scrubbing away, when he moves your foot and it is right over his crotch.

you can’t explain it but your foot just tingles, heat shooting straight through you as your breath got heavy.

narrowing your eyes, you push your foot into his crotch and he gets upset for a millisecond because damn it he was focused on cleaning your shoes.

then his eyes widen and he whines

he fucking whines

“oh?” you ask, your eyes lidded and a smirk on your lips. “what is it darling?”

you swear you can see lucifer’s brain short circuit right there. his wide eyes taking you in and his blush deepening. “i-uh…” he swallows, hard.

“you, what?” you ask, pushing your boot into him more and moving it back and forth over him. he rocks into your boot for friction and cries out when he finds it. he’s gripping the little brush he was using before so tightly.

“do you want to cum?” you ask. his eager nods take your breath away. “then use my boot to get you off.” you thought he would argue more, put up a fight… he just blushed more and started humping your boot. his hands holding the top of the boot to keep it steady, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his hat now rolled off to the side of the floor. you had never seen a prettier picture

he cums so quick

he has tears in his eyes, running down his face.

it’s amazing how desperate he becomes and how quickly it can happen

he’s begging you for permission.

and he’s been “such a good boy.”

of course he can cum

when he does he slumps over against your leg and you gently pet his hair as he catches his breath.

“so boots are a kink i guess?” you ask him

“love me someone in a good pair of shoes.” he murmurs, chuckling as his eyes remain closed.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer/reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer headcanons #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar

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celebtf · 3 days ago

Text

TAYLOR’S CHRISTMAS SWAP

The agency’s annual Christmas event was in full swing, a dazzling spectacle of lights, laughter, and luxury. Taylor Zakhar Perez was the evening’s center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone with his megawatt smile and confident air. Clad in a perfectly tailored suit, he moved through the crowd like a star in his element.

Near the corner of the room, a Santa sat in an oversized red chair, surrounded by festive decorations and a line of children. This Santa, with his bushy white beard, rosy cheeks, and jiggling belly, seemed straight out of a classic Christmas card. But Taylor saw none of the magic.

“Seriously?” Taylor sneered to his friend. “Who hired that guy? Did he walk in off the street? Look at him—he’s a walking cliché. The beard’s faker than my last co-star’s Botox, and that belly? He’s probably been chugging eggnog since Halloween.”

His friend chuckled nervously. “Come on, Taylor, it’s just for the kids.”

“Yeah, but even kids deserve better acting. Watch this.” Taylor sauntered over, his grin twisting into something smug.

“Hey, Santa,” he said loudly, drawing the attention of nearby partygoers. “Tell me—do you practice that jolly laugh in front of a mirror, or does it come naturally with all the cookies you shove down your throat?”

Santa looked up, his icy blue eyes meeting Taylor’s. He said nothing, but his gaze held an unnerving intensity.

Unfazed, Taylor kept going. “And the beard? Is it glued on, or do you just wake up like that after a long nap? Honestly, I’ve seen mall Santas with better game.”

The room grew quiet as more people turned to watch. Santa stood slowly, his presence towering despite his bulk.

“You think this is a joke, young man?” Santa’s voice was deep and resonant, carrying a weight that made Taylor falter for a split second.

“Relax, old man,” Taylor said with a smirk. “I’m just giving you some pointers. Maybe next year, you can step it up.”

Santa’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps it’s time you learned the weight of the role you so lightly mock.”

Before Taylor could respond, Santa snapped his fingers.

The world around them froze. Conversations stopped mid-word, laughter hung suspended in the air, and even the twinkling lights seemed to pause.

“What the—” Taylor began, but Santa snapped his fingers again.

A strange heat surged through Taylor’s body, starting at his chest and radiating outward. He clutched his stomach as a strange pressure built inside him.

“What’s happening?!” he gasped.

His thick black hair turned ashen gray, the strands lengthening and curling wildly. His smooth, youthful face began to wrinkle, deep crow’s feet etching themselves around his eyes. He reached up in horror as a thick, snow-white beard erupted from his chin, growing longer and fuller with each passing second.

The pressure in his abdomen intensified. His taut, sculpted abs softened, then ballooned outward into a massive, round belly that jiggled with every panicked breath. His toned thighs thickened, straining the seams of his expensive trousers before they reshaped themselves into red velvet pants. His arms and chest swelled, his entire frame growing bulkier and heavier.

“No, no, no!” Taylor cried, his voice deepening into a rich, resonant baritone.

His designer suit shimmered, morphing into a plush red coat trimmed with white fur. Black boots materialized on his feet, their polished surfaces gleaming under the frozen lights. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses appeared in his hand, as if mocking his transformation further.

While Taylor’s body grew heavier and older, Santa’s did the opposite. The heavy weight of his belly receded, replaced by the taut, defined muscles of a man in his prime. His white hair darkened, shortening into a stylish cut that framed his now-youthful face. The thick beard vanished, leaving his jaw clean-shaven and sharp.

Santa flexed his fingers, marveling at the vitality coursing through his veins. He patted his flat stomach, grinning.

“Well, this feels… refreshing,” he said, his voice now identical to Taylor’s. He glanced down at his oversized Santa suit, which hung loosely on his newly slender frame, and laughed. “Guess I’ll need a new wardrobe.”

He turned to Taylor—now the perfect likeness of Santa Claus—and smirked. “How’s it feel, big guy? Heavy, isn’t it? The beard, the belly, the responsibility.”

Taylor stared at his reflection in a nearby ornament, his expression a mix of horror and disbelief.

“This can’t be real!”

“Oh, it’s very real,” Santa said, slipping the glasses onto Taylor’s nose. “You wanted to make fun of Santa? Well, now you are Santa. Merry Christmas.”

He snapped his fingers again.

The room came alive once more, the hum of conversation and laughter resuming as if nothing had happened.

Taylor—now Santa—stood frozen, his oversized red suit fitting him perfectly now.

“Taylor!” someone called, approaching Santa. “Nice touch with the Santa suit! You look amazing!”

Taylor - now Santa ,turned his protests dying in his throat as everyone treated him as if he’d always been the party’s Santa.

Meanwhile, Santa—now Taylor—mingled with ease, his youthful face beaming as he charmed the crowd.

Taylor sank into the oversized chair, his heart pounding as he realized the extent of his predicament. He was no longer the star of the evening. He was Santa Claus.

And somewhere across the room, the real Santa—now free of his ancient role—smiled in satisfaction, knowing he’d delivered the ultimate Christmas lesson.

#celebrity tf #body swap #celebtf #transformation #gay #male body suit #malebody swap #male shapeshift #body switch #character transformation #santa claus #taylor zakhar perez #christmas #christmas season

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magnagaruzenmon · 21 hours ago

Text

This Christmas (I'll burn it to the ground)

Merry Christmas to all of those who love Zombies, Kpop, and MTG as much as I do. (I have been playing to much Dead Island 2) Here's hoping I can pull it all together.

I finally made it to the guesthouse, my boots crunching against the gravel as I pushed the door open. Relief swept over me for a fleeting moment—until I realized I wasn’t alone.

There was someone already there, and she was changing.

The soft rustle of fabric froze me in my tracks. She turned sharply, startled, and our eyes locked. Her wide, expressive eyes—big and doelike—struck me like a thunderbolt. There was something in them, a blend of innocence and unspoken intensity, that made my heart stutter. A weird mix of emotions bubbled up—guilt, curiosity, and something warmer that I couldn’t name but tried to smother immediately.

She was standing there, clad only in a simple bra and panties, her cheeks flushing as my presence registered.

“I—uh—” I stammered, tearing my gaze away as quickly as I could. My hand shot up to shield my face. “Venus told me to come here to cool off. I’m not trying to do anything… improper,” I managed to say, my voice more strained than I liked.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by her shaky, “Okay.”

I backed into the doorway of the next room, needing to give her space and myself some time to calm my racing thoughts. The guesthouse smelled faintly of lavender and wood polish, a strange comfort in the chaotic world we were surviving in. But any solace was shattered when I saw movement at the barbed fence outside.

A zombie was clawing its way through, its grotesque face contorted in hunger. With a sigh, I unsheathed my dagger and slipped out. With a quick slash, the dull squelch of the blade met decayed flesh, and it was over. Cleaning the dagger on the zombie’s tattered shirt, I slipped back inside, shaking off the tension.

The girl was still there.

She had finished changing, now wearing one of Venus’s sundresses. It fit her perfectly, the soft fabric draping over her in a way that felt… natural and unfairly captivating. For a moment, I forgot what I was doing, but I quickly bit my tongue. The last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

She was watching me, her expression thoughtful, almost calculating. There was no trace of the earlier shyness—just a quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from her now.

“You’re Dinozen, right?” she asked, her voice steady but with a hint of curiosity.

I nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. That’s me.”

She broke into a smile, her lips curling into a smirk that sent an odd shiver down my spine. “I’ve heard stories about you. A slayer from Hel-La with a heart of gold.” Her tone was teasing, but there was something sharper beneath it. “I didn’t expect you to be so… mundane,” she added, her smirk growing.

Her teasing caught me off guard, and I blinked, unsure how to respond. Just like that, the power dynamic shifted.

She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with amusement—and something more. She extended her hand, her movements fluid and deliberate. “I’m Chowon.”

I hesitated for a moment before taking her hand, but instead of shaking it, I pressed my lips to the back of it, the gesture more instinctive than calculated.

Her smile widened, clearly pleased. “Oh,” she said, her voice low and a touch amused, “a ruthless gentleman. I like it.”

There was a spark in her eyes now, one that hinted at danger, playfulness, and intrigue all at once.

Chowon corners me, her lithe fingers brushing against my jawline with an almost teasing delicacy. The sensation sends a spark through me, subtle but undeniable. Before I can react, we tumble onto the couch together. Her movements are graceful, deliberate, and unrelenting as she straddles me, settling herself on top with a kind of predatory poise.

Her lips curve into a mischievous smile. “So, why do they call you Dinozen?” she asks, her voice low and sultry. “Because I don’t actually think that’s your name.”

Our eyes lock, her gaze playful yet searching, and I feel a sudden weight in the air between us. She bats those impossibly long lashes, weaponizing her doe-like eyes with a kind of innocent cruelty. I know I should deflect or say something clever, but I can’t. I’m too drawn in.

I swallow hard before answering. “People like to say I’m like an apex predator—instinctually at the top of the food chain, basking in its state of zen,” I explain, my voice low, barely audible. “My love of dinosaurs made the nickname stick. So… Dinozen.”

Her smile deepens, her teeth catching the faint light. It’s the kind of smile that’s both knowing and inviting. She leans in, closer now, her breath brushing against my lips, and I catch the faint scent of gooseberries and lilac. The fragrance is intoxicating, too perfect to be real, as if she’s wrapped herself in some kind of spell.

But then I see it—a faint bite mark on her shoulder, just peeking out from the neckline of her dress. My gaze lingers for a second too long. She notices, of course. Chowon’s eyes follow mine, and when she meets my gaze again, she’s smiling.

“Oh, you figured it out,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of pride and challenge. “Yes, I’m a slayer like you.”

I blink, taken aback.

She leans closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers, “I was reborn helping my girls get out of New York when the zombies came.”

Her words are heavy, laced with memories and something deeper. A hunger begins to build between us, a feeling I can’t quite name but can’t ignore. It’s electric, primal, and utterly overwhelming. She closes the distance between us, our faces now inches apart.

“Are you in a state of zen?” she whispers, her breath warm and soft against my skin.

Her words feel like a spell. My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when I open them again, it’s as if something inside me has been unlocked. Or unchained.

I feel it—the shift.

The part of me I’ve spent so long burying, controlling, suppressing—it rises to the surface, clawing its way free. Imperio Rex. The name feels like fire in my blood, and as it takes hold, my entire perspective changes. My focus shifts from protecting, from doing right, to simply taking what I want.

And what I want is sitting right in front of me in that flirty sundress, her body close enough to touch, her lips almost brushing mine.

Chowon doesn’t flinch. If anything, she leans in, her breathing hitching slightly as her eyes glint with something darker, something wilder. It’s as if she welcomes this shift, as if she’s been waiting for it.

“That’s not the gaze of a hero,” she teases, her voice soft but sharp, a taunt wrapped in velvet.

Her words only fuel the fire inside me. My gaze roams over her, drinking her in. Her figure is exquisite, every curve and line a masterpiece of temptation, but it’s her eyes that hold me. The softness, the doe-like innocence—gone. What stares back at me now is the gaze of a lioness, her hunger matching my own.

Two predators, circling.

Neither of us speaks. The air between us crackles, charged with tension and unspoken desires. Whatever happens next, it feels inevitable, like a collision neither of us can stop—or wants to.

Here’s an expanded and detailed version of your scene, adding more depth to the emotions, tension, and connection between Dinozen and Chowon:

Chowon moved first, closing the space between us in a heartbeat. Her lips crashed against mine, fierce and deliberate, like she had decided the moment and wasn’t going to let it slip away. The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was raw, electric, and unrelenting.

And then, I felt it.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was something deeper, more profound. Our energies shifted, intertwining in a way that left me reeling. For the first time in my life, I felt seen. I felt reciprocation.

Her soul was a mirror of my own—a churning storm of anger and loneliness, a fire that refused to be extinguished. I felt it all: her hunger for mayhem, the thrill of violence, and the exhaustion from constantly holding back for people who expected so much, demanded so much, without ever asking what we needed in return.

It was a soul as bruised and battered as mine.

When she pulled away, her lips just inches from mine, her breathing uneven, she searched my face with those predatory eyes. “How were you reborn?” she asked, her voice low and steady, a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy between us.

I hesitated, the memory of that moment clawing its way to the surface. “I was saving my dad from a zombie,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness. “I got bitten… and when the chaos hit, my family left me during their escape.”

The words came out heavier than I expected, dragging old wounds into the light. I could feel my anger rising, simmering alongside something darker, something hungrier.

Chowon’s breath hitched, her heart rate spiking—I could hear it, feel it. Without a word, she pulled me into another kiss. This one was different—just as hungry but tinged with something else, a silent acknowledgment of the anger, the pain, and the raw, unfiltered truth we shared.

When we finally broke apart, her gaze locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding. There was no teasing now, no coy smile. Just a woman who saw all of me and wasn’t afraid.

“Always the hero,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. “Well then… tonight, don’t play the role. Be who you are.”

Her words hit me like a jolt, cutting straight through the layers of control I had spent so long building. There was no judgment in her tone, no expectation. Just an invitation. A challenge.

I didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, I let the mask slip. I let the carefully constructed image of Dinozen fall away, piece by piece, until only the raw, unfiltered truth of who I was remained.

And she welcomed it.

For the first time, I felt no need to hold back. No reason to hide. No fear of being too much, too intense, too broken.

Chowon didn’t flinch. If anything, she leaned in closer, her presence steady and unyielding. In that moment, I realized we weren’t just kindred spirits—we were two sides of the same coin, drawn together by the weight of what we’d endured and the unshakable hunger to embrace what we truly were.

Whatever came next, it wouldn’t be quiet. It wouldn’t be safe. But it would be real, but before we could do anything we heard more growls of zombies encircling the party. Chowon and I get up from the couch before slipping out of the guest house

The guesthouse door creaked as we both stepped outside, the cool night air crackling with the distant groans of the undead. The swarm had breached the perimeter—a mistake they wouldn’t live long enough to regret.

Chowon twirled her machete lazily in one hand, the moonlight glinting off the blade. She gave me a look, her smile sharp and playful. “You ready to let loose?”

My dagger felt steady in my hand, but my heart pounded for an entirely different reason as I met her gaze. “I think you’ve got more to prove than me,” I shot back, grinning despite myself. As we walk over the zombie I had previously slain.

She laughed, a sound both sweet and unnerving. “Let’s see who makes the bigger mess.”

Then the first zombie stumbled into view, and all hell broke loose.

We moved like a deadly symphony, two parts of the same chaotic whole. Chowon darted forward, her blade slicing through rotted flesh with precision. Her movements were graceful, almost balletic, as if every kill were a carefully choreographed dance.

I wasn’t as elegant. I was raw power, using my knife and my fists when needed, each strike fueled by a deep well of frustration and hunger. The undead fell in heaps around me, but every now and then, I caught a glimpse of Chowon—her lithe figure spinning and twisting, her sundress smeared with blood but her expression radiant, alive.

The horde was relentless, but we were more so.

At one point, we ended up back-to-back, surrounded. Her voice was low, teasing, even as she hacked through another zombie. “Still feeling zen, Dinozen?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “More like… alive,” I admitted, plunging my blade into another corpse.

Her laugh rang out again, wild and unrestrained. “I love it.”

As the swarm thinned, something shifted between us. We weren’t just fighting anymore; we were feeding off each other’s energy. Every shared glance, every brush of her arm against mine as we moved, heightened the tension between us.

Blood streaked her face, her doe-like eyes now alight with something feral. She caught me staring and smirked, slicing through a zombie with a flourish before turning to me. “What, admiring my form?”

I wiped sweat and blood from my brow, unable to resist the way my lips quirked upward. “It’s decent,” I teased, though my voice betrayed how much more I thought.

She stepped closer, her chest rising and falling as we stood amid the carnage. Her machete dangled loosely at her side, forgotten for a moment as her eyes locked onto mine. “Decent?” she repeated, her voice a whisper now, tinged with mock offense.

“Better than decent,” I admitted, my voice rough from exertion.

Her lips curved into a genuine smile—one that made the world around us fade, if only for a moment. We head back to the guesthouse our bodies electric as we can't deny the attraction we felt anymore.

I tear off that sundress that hides her delicious curves and I tear off the lingerie that hides her from me. She did the same and as we stood bare before each other she pounced on me. Her hands claw into my back but I don’t feel pain only invigorated She claims me with another bit on my other shoulder further linking us now both virally and emotionally I follow suit and bite her other shoulder. Our bite marks now creating mirror pairs, but now I need her carnally I see her eyes yelling “take me make me yours!” So I do just that. I violently thrust my cock inside her. Chowon moans as her insides welcome me. I fit perfectly inside of her, something she makes very clear by saying

“Oh fuck your cock. It’s so good.” I smile and begin to suck on her massive tits. She moans out as I thrust and suck on her tits like a man dying of thirst. Chowon coos as her body reacts violently. Her back arches towards me as I lightly nibble her nipple. She grabs my face and brings me in for another kiss. Fire runs through both of veins as we copulate. I continue thrusting into her and she continues fucking herself on my cock. our moans echo throughout the room as we desperately mate. I feel Chowon's walls clench around me as if to milk me and it works i spew cum into her womb like a volcano, uncontrolled and violent. She moans as her orgasm hits soon after. she smiles then says,

"Fuck!" her eyes narrow and she says "you are mine and I am yours." I nod as our vision goes black before we pass out.

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the remains of last night’s chaos. The yard outside the guesthouse was a battlefield—a mosaic of dismembered zombies and smeared gore, with the unmistakable stench of death hanging thick in the air.

Venus, the hostess of the party, stepped outside cautiously, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She froze mid-step as she took in the carnage. Around her, other survivors began to stir, their sleepy murmurs turning to gasps of horror and confusion as they joined her on the porch.

"What the hell happened here?" Donny asked, stepping outside and immediately covering his nose with his sleeve. His eyes widened as he surveyed the wreckage.

"Was there a raid? A bomb or something?" Haseul ventured, her voice trembling.

“No,” Venus said slowly, pointing toward the barbed-wire fence. It was still intact, albeit stained with black blood. “No breach. Whatever did this… was already inside.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances. They all knew the stakes of staying here, but no one had heard any alarms or screams during the night.

“Look at those slashes,” Donny's said, kneeling next to a fallen zombie. Its torso was nearly split in two, the edges of the wound clean and precise. “This wasn’t some lucky survivor swinging a baseball bat. This was…” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Venus crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. “A professional.”

“But who? No one here—” Donny's voice cut off as his gaze lifted toward the guesthouse.

The survivors followed his line of sight. The door to the guesthouse was slightly ajar, the faintest tendrils of smoke curling from a makeshift firepit just outside, where a few zombie skulls were charred black.

Inside the guesthouse, Chowon and I lay tangled together on the couch, both still wearing faint remnants of the night’s battle on our skin—smears of black blood on my jawline, a shallow cut on Chowon��s shoulder that had already begun to heal. The only wounds not healing were the bitemarks from our original infection and each other.

The room was warm with the morning light streaming in, highlighting their serene faces. Chowon’s head rested on my chest, her fingers loosely curled against mine. my arm was draped protectively around her, our breaths rising and falling in sync.

Raph pushed the door open wider, and Venus peered in behind him. The scene they found was at odds with the carnage outside.

“Are they… cuddling?” Raph whispered, dumbfounded.

Venus frowned. “They didn’t leave with the rest of us last night.”

“You think they did all that?” Jihyo asked, jerking her thumb toward the yard.

Venus didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked toward the bite marks on Chowon’s neck and the scratches on my arms. She noticed how our wounds seemed almost healed, despite being fresh hours ago. There was something unsettling about the stillness of our sleep, something off about the peace we exuded.

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t the wind,” Venus muttered, stepping back outside.

As the survivors gathered on the porch, hushed debates about what had happened swirled through the air. Meanwhile, in the guesthouse, my fingers twitched slightly, as if dreaming of the fight, my grip tightening around Chowon for a moment.

She stirred, smiling softly in her sleep, her voice barely audible as she murmured, “Always the hero… even when you’re not trying.”

And the two apex predators, satiated and at peace, slept on.

Jonah stared at the pair on the couch, his jaw slack. “I don’t… What am I even looking at right now?”

Venus crossed her arms, her brow furrowed as she studied Dinozen’s protective arm draped around Chowon. “You’re looking at two people who somehow turned the yard into a zombie graveyard and then decided to take a nap.”

“They’re covered in blood,” one of the other partygoers whispered, their voice trembling.

“Yeah, but… they look so normal,” Jonah said, shaking his head. “Like, I’m half expecting them to wake up and ask if breakfast is ready.”

“They weren’t normal last night,” Venus said sharply, her eyes narrowing. “They stayed behind when we all took cover. And now, this.” She gestured toward the carnage outside.

Another voice chimed in. “You’re telling me those two—just the two of them—took out all those zombies? That’s insane.”

“Look at the wounds on those things,” Jonah said, his tone grim. “Clean cuts, precision kills. Whoever did that knew exactly what they were doing. That wasn’t panic. That was… art.”

“Art?” Venus scoffed. “Try predation.”

The group fell silent, staring at the serene scene before them. Dinozen shifted slightly, murmuring something under his breath as Chowon nestled closer against him, her hand curling around the fabric of his shirt.

“They look so peaceful,” someone said quietly.

“Yeah,” Jonah replied. “Like wolves after a feast.”

Venus took a step forward, her boots creaking on the floorboards. “Whatever they are, they’re not just survivors. Nobody walks out of a night like that without a scratch and sleeps like this.” Her voice dropped lower. “We need to figure out who we’re dealing with. Because if they’re on our side? Fine. But if they’re not…”

Jonah hesitated, glancing back at the open door. “What do you even do against people like that?”

Venus didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped back outside, leaving the others to exchange uneasy glances.

I woke up slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the guesthouse window. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, my mind foggy from the chaos of the night before. But then I felt the warmth against me, the steady rise and fall of someone breathing, and it all came flooding back.

Chowon.

She was curled up against me, her head resting on my shoulder, her arm draped lazily across my chest. Her hair smelled faintly of lilac, with something sweeter I couldn’t place. It was comforting, grounding me in the moment, even as everything else felt surreal.

Her eyes fluttered open, and when she met my gaze, a lazy, mischievous smile spread across her lips. “Morning, hero,” she said, her voice soft but carrying that teasing lilt I was starting to recognize.

I huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Not sure ‘hero’ is the right word after last night.”

She stretched, her fingers brushing against my chest, sending a spark of something electric through me. “True,” she said, her smirk widening. “Maybe ‘beast’ fits better.” There was something in her tone—pride, maybe, or amusement.

Before I could respond, a knock at the door startled both of us.

“Hey, uh… are you two decent?” Jonah’s voice called from the other side, awkward and unsure.

Chowon raised an eyebrow at me, leaning in close to whisper, “Do we want to be?”

I gave her a look, shaking my head despite the smirk pulling at my lips. “Yeah,” I called out. “We’re decent.”

The door creaked open, and Jonah stepped in, looking half-relieved and half-terrified. Behind him, Venus lingered in the doorway, her arms crossed and her gaze sharp as a blade.

“So…” Jihyo began, scratching the back of her head. “Crazy night, huh? Any chance you want to explain how you two managed to… you know…” She waved a hand toward the window, where the yard beyond lay strewn with carnage.

Chowon tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, did something happen?”

Jihyo just stared at her, clearly out of her depth. Venus stepped forward, cutting to the chase. “Don’t play dumb,” she said coldly. “The yard looks like a battlefield. And you two…” She gestured at us. “You look like you didn’t even break a sweat.”

I met her gaze evenly. “We did what needed to be done,” I said. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m just not sure what to make of you two.”

Chowon her tattered clothes did little to hide her body and this tide of possessiveness raged within me with anger at how they looked at her. I caught Jonah’s eyes dropping to her shoulder before they shot back up, his face pale as a ghost. “Uh… what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Chowon asked, her voice all mock innocence.

Jihyo pointed, and my stomach tightened. Her bite scar.

“Wait,” Venus said, her voice low and wary. “Is that… a bite mark?”

Chowon rolls her eyes dismissively, "you know we were both bitten already," she says her tone even hoping not to anger the rest of the group.

Venus eyes us and says, "Yeah we knew. about the other one but why do you have two now?

Sighing, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the scar on my forearm. “Yeah,” I said flatly. “We’ve been bitten.”

The room fell silent, everyone staring at us like we’d just sprouted fangs. Raph broke the silence, his voice shaky. “But… you’re not… you didn’t turn?”

Chowon smirked, glancing at me. “Nope. Guess we’re special.”

“Special?” Venus repeated, her tone laced with suspicion. “Or infected differently? How do we know this doesn’t mean something worse?”

“Because we’re still here,” I said, my voice firm. “If we weren’t immune, you’d all be dead by now.”

Donny's eyes darted between us, his expression torn between awe and unease. “Still… something’s different about you two. It’s not just the scars. You… feel different.”

I didn’t have a good response for that, and neither did Chowon. She just shrugged, brushing past Venus with that same breezy confidence. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

I followed her toward the door, the rest of the group trailing behind us hesitantly. I could feel their eyes on the scars, like they were trying to piece together some unspoken truth.

As we stepped outside, the aftermath of the night’s rampage hit me in full. Zombies torn apart, blood and gore staining the ground, and a mess of destruction that could only be described as primal.

Chowon and I walked through it like we belonged there, side by side, as if the carnage was some twisted monument to what we’d become.

Behind us, I heard Jihyo whisper, “They’re not just immune, are they?”

“No,” Venus replied, her voice grim. “They’re something else.”

I glanced at Chowon, catching the faint smirk on her lips. Maybe Venus was right. Maybe we were something else..

I stepped out into the bright morning sunlight, stretching my arms wide as though shaking off the stiffness of sleep. My muscles ached, but it wasn’t a bad ache—it was the satisfying kind, the reminder of a job well done. Beside me, Chowon followed, tying her hair back in a loose ponytail. Her steps were deliberate, calculated, but she carried herself with the kind of grace that seemed to melt away suspicion.

Venus and Jihyo were standing by the remains of the fire pit, poking at the charred logs with sticks, while Jonah and Donny scouted the edges of the yard. Raph sat perched on a broken log, flipping his knife over in his hands, his gaze shifting between us and the destruction.

The tension was still thick in the air, coiled tight like a spring, but I could feel it loosening the moment we appeared. The group’s eyes darted to Chowon first, and then to me. I made a point of smiling—easy, warm, the kind of smile that always worked to smooth over rough edges.

“Morning, everyone,” I called, forcing a yawn into my voice to make it seem like we’d just woken up. “Looks like we missed a hell of a night out here.”

Jihyo gave a dry laugh, her arms crossed. “You can say that again.”

Chowon stepped forward, folding her hands in front of her like some picture of innocence. Her head tilted slightly, her expression soft but curious. “Are… are you all okay? No one got hurt, right?” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile, and I saw the way it disarmed them instantly.

Raph scoffed but didn’t press. Donny’s shoulders eased. Even Venus, who had been glaring daggers at us earlier, seemed to falter just a little.

“We’re fine,” Jihyo said, her tone softer than before. “No thanks to the circus act that went on out here.” She gestured vaguely to the carnage surrounding us.

I rubbed the back of my neck, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “Yeah, about that. I guess things got… a little out of hand.”

“A little?” Venus muttered under her breath.

Chowon sighed, her gaze sweeping across the yard, her lips pressing into a thin line. “We just… we wanted to make sure everyone was safe. That’s all.” Her tone carried just enough guilt to sound believable, as if she was genuinely ashamed of what we’d done.

I stepped in, my hand brushing lightly against her shoulder in what I hoped looked like reassurance. “We had to make a choice. They were getting too close to the house. We couldn’t risk it.”

The group exchanged glances, their unease cracking just a bit under the weight of my words.

“It’s just…” Donny started, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just crazy how you two pulled that off.”

“Luck,” I said quickly, waving a hand. “We’ve had… practice.”

Chowon looked down, biting her lip like the very thought made her uncomfortable. “It’s not something I like doing,” she murmured. “But I couldn’t just… I mean, what if they got to you guys? What if someone got hurt?” Her voice cracked slightly, and that was the nail in the coffin.

Jihyo’s face softened, and she stepped forward, placing a hand on Chowon’s arm. “Hey, you did what you had to do. I don’t think anyone’s blaming you for that.”

Chowon nodded, her expression a perfect mix of gratitude and humility, and I had to bite back the smirk threatening to pull at my lips.

“Besides,” I added, my voice light, “it’s over now. We can clean up, regroup, and figure out the next steps. No use dwelling on it, right?”

The group nodded, their focus shifting away from us and toward more practical concerns. The tension broke completely when Donny called out from the edge of the yard, waving a hand. “Hey! I found a couple of intact water bottles over here!”

The moment their attention turned, Chowon glanced at me, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smirk. Her eyes gleamed, just for a moment, with the same predatory hunger I’d seen the night before. I mirrored it, my own mask slipping for just a second before I tightened it back into place.

The group didn’t need to know what we really were. They didn’t need to see the predators that had taken up residence inside us. Not yet.

For now, our masks were enough.

And for now, we were satisfied.

The caravan was loud with the sound of engines sputtering to life, the groan of doors swinging shut, and the rustle of last-minute supplies being stowed. I leaned against the side of one of the battered SUVs, watching the group finalize their preparations. Chowon stood a few feet away, tossing a bag into the back of her vehicle. Her hair caught the morning sun, a streak of gold against the drab gray of the world around us.

She glanced over at me, and for a moment, we shared a look. Her lips twitched upward in that lazy, knowing smirk of hers—the one that always made something primal stir deep in my chest. My fingers flexed at my sides involuntarily, the urge to be near her gnawing at me. But then Nayoung’s voice cut through the moment like a jagged blade.

“Uh… I was thinking,” she began, hesitantly, her voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Maybe it’d be better if Chowon and Dino rode in separate cars. You know, just to… spread things out.”

The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and awkward. I felt the heat rise in my chest, the pulse of anger flashing through me. My jaw tightened. My fists curled at my sides. I wanted to snap, to tell her to mind her own business. Who was she to decide that I couldn’t ride with my equal—my mate? The thought of Chowon being apart from me, even for a short drive, felt wrong, like something vital being torn away.

But I couldn’t show that. Not now. Not to them.

So, I forced a grin. “Sure, Nayoung,” I said evenly, as if her words hadn’t scraped against every nerve in my body. “Whatever makes everyone more comfortable.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though she still didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just… you two seem, uh, close. And maybe some space would be good—for the group, I mean.”

Chowon, to her credit, didn’t rise to the bait. She just raised an eyebrow and gave me a small shrug, like it was all a joke to her. “Fine by me,” she said, her tone light but carrying that edge of amusement. “Just don’t get too lonely without me, Dino.”

My lips quirked into a smirk that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’ll manage.”

Internally, though, the possessiveness burned. I hated that she was being shuffled off like we were some kind of threat, that Nayoung—or anyone—thought they had the right to dictate where we stood. We’d done more for this group in one night than most of them had done in weeks. And yet, here I was, swallowing my pride, because that’s what the “hero” would do.

Chowon climbed into the SUV without another word, her confidence radiating even as the door slammed shut. I turned to my assigned vehicle, forcing my feet to move even though every instinct screamed to follow her instead.

Venus stood near the driver’s seat, her sharp gaze tracking my every move. “You okay with this?” she asked, her tone as neutral as she could manage, but her eyes betrayed her suspicion.

I shrugged, slipping into the seat next to her. “What’s there to be upset about?” I said, my voice smooth, practiced. “It’s just a car ride.”

She didn’t reply, but her silence felt loaded, like she was waiting for something to slip.

As the caravan rolled out, the world outside blurred into a haze of trees and broken roads. I kept my eyes on the SUV ahead of us, knowing Chowon was inside. The thought of her alone, without me to watch her back, sent a low growl vibrating through my chest. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to focus on the rumble of the engine beneath me instead.

The predator inside me snarled, furious and restless. But I breathed through it, letting the mask settle back into place. For now, I’d play the part. For now, I’d keep the peace.

Because the truth was, Nayoung wasn’t entirely wrong. Chowon and I together—unchecked—was something none of them were ready to face.

Not yet.

And maybe that was for the best.

For now.

I would find out later that Chowon felt the separation anxiety even more than I had.

The steady hum of the engine filled the car as Chowon sat quietly in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Nayoung was behind the wheel, her hands gripping it tightly, her knuckles pale from tension. She glanced sideways at Chowon every so often, the silence between them heavy and awkward.

“I’m glad we’re finally moving,” Nayoung said, her voice overly bright, like she was trying too hard to keep things light. “Being stuck in one place felt… dangerous.”

Chowon nodded, offering a shy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, it’s good to get some distance,” she said softly. “Safety in numbers, right?”

Nayoung relaxed slightly, her grip on the wheel loosening just a bit. “Exactly,” she said, though her voice still carried an edge of nervousness. “And, um… spreading everyone out for the ride made sense, too. Gives people some space.”

Her words made Chowon’s stomach churn. Space? From Dinozen? Her instincts roared against the idea, the predator inside her snarling at the separation. It was wrong, unnatural. She and Dinozen were a unit, two halves of a whole. Being apart from him felt like losing a part of herself.

But on the surface, Chowon’s expression didn’t falter. She tilted her head slightly, her smile remaining soft and understanding. “Of course,” she said gently. “You’re just looking out for everyone. That’s really thoughtful of you, Nayoung.”

Nayoung glanced at her, her expression easing a little at the words. “I just… I’ve seen how close you and Dinozen are, and I couldn’t help but worry, you know? I mean, after last night…”

Chowon felt a flare of anger deep in her chest, sharp and hot. She kept her hands folded in her lap to hide the way her nails dug into her palms. Last night had been perfect—a primal, untamed connection between her and Dinozen. No one had the right to question it.

But she kept her voice light and her expression calm. “I get it,” she murmured, her tone tinged with bashfulness. “It probably looked… intense. I didn’t mean to scare anyone. Dinozen and I just… trust each other. That’s all.”

Nayoung glanced at her again, a hint of doubt in her eyes. “Trust, huh?” she said cautiously. “It just seemed like… I don’t know. Like you weren’t even afraid. You and Dinozen… you acted like—”

“Like what?” Chowon asked, her tone quiet but curious, encouraging Nayoung to continue.

Nayoung hesitated, her fingers tightening on the wheel again. “Like you weren’t human,” she finally said.

Chowon’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she wanted to laugh. If only Nayoung knew how close to the truth she was. But instead, she lowered her gaze, letting a faint blush rise to her cheeks. “I guess you stop thinking about fear when people are counting on you,” she said softly.

Nayoung nodded slowly, though her grip on the wheel remained firm. “Maybe,” she said, her voice uncertain. “I just want to make sure everyone’s okay. Including you and Dinozen.”

Her words were meant to reassure, but they only fueled the frustration simmering beneath Chowon’s calm exterior. She and Dinozen didn’t need Nayoung’s concern. They were stronger than anyone else in the group. Stronger together.

But Chowon’s smile stayed in place, warm and disarming. “Thanks, Nayoung,” she said, her voice gentle. “That means a lot. You’re a good leader, you know. You’re always thinking about what’s best for everyone.”

Nayoung blinked at the unexpected compliment, her cheeks flushing faintly. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, her voice flustered. “I just… try my best.”

“And it shows,” Chowon said kindly. “We’re lucky to have you.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, Nayoung visibly relaxing while Chowon’s thoughts churned. Her gaze remained on the road ahead, but her mind was with Dinozen, riding in another vehicle somewhere behind them. The separation gnawed at her, an ache that only grew with each passing mile.

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, her nails pressing into her skin as she fought to keep the frustration from surfacing. Let Nayoung think she’d done the right thing. Let her believe Chowon was the shy, caring leader she wanted her to be.

For now, Chowon could wear the mask.

But when the time came, when she and Dinozen stood side by side again, nothing—not Nayoung, not the group, not even the world—would keep them apart.

Mikey and Chaehyun’s safe house was a welcome sight—tucked into a quiet, wooded clearing, with high fences and a sturdy-looking building that practically screamed, This place is safe, or as close to it as you’ll get. Still, I felt uneasy as we pulled up, the faint scent of decay still lingering in the air despite the relative quiet. Chowon and I had been separated during the ride, and now, as we stepped out of the vehicles, that distance lingered like an ache just under my skin.

Sakura was quick to approach, clipboard in hand like she was already mentally assigning jobs. “Alright, let’s get this place fortified,” she said briskly, her sharp gaze scanning each of us. “Mikey and Chaehyun did well setting this up, but it’s not perfect. We’ll need to check the perimeter, strengthen weak points in the fencing, and clear out anything that might attract trouble.”

I caught Chowon’s eye as she hopped out of the other vehicle, her movements fluid and easy despite the long ride. She looked my way for the briefest moment, her expression unreadable, before Sakura stepped between us.

“Dinozen,” Sakura said, her tone firm, “you’re on perimeter patrol with Leo. Chowon can help Mikey with the fences.”

My jaw tightened at the way she separated us so deliberately, as if we couldn’t be trusted to work together. I felt that familiar heat rise in my chest—possessive, primal, protective—but I swallowed it down. These people didn’t understand us, not yet. Maybe they never would.

“Sure,” I said coolly, shrugging like it didn’t bother me. “Perimeter patrol sounds fun.”

Leo sidled up to me, his usual easygoing grin replaced with something more cautious. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip just a little too tight. “Let’s go, man,” he said. “Got to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”

Chowon was already moving toward Mikey, her gait relaxed, but I caught the flicker of tension in her movements—the way her fingers curled slightly, her nails brushing against her palm. She wasn’t happy about this either, but outwardly, she wore her usual bashful smile.

“Come on, Mikey,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s see what needs fixing.”

Sakura watched her go before turning back to me and Leo. “Keep your eyes open,” she said. “And stay focused. No distractions.”

I nodded, biting back a sarcastic remark. Instead, I glanced toward the house where Chaehyun stood by the door, her arms crossed, watching all of us with a mix of curiosity and caution. This wasn’t just about fortifying the safe house; it was about fortifying the group’s trust—or lack thereof.

Leo led the way toward the treeline, his machete in hand, while I trailed behind, scanning the perimeter with practiced ease. My thoughts, though, were elsewhere—on Chowon. On the way her scent had lingered in the car even after she was gone. On the way her absence felt like a missing piece of me.

“So,” Leo said, breaking the silence as we walked, “you and Chowon seem… close.”

I glanced at him, my expression neutral. “We’ve been through a lot together,” I said simply.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, though his tone was cautious. “But some of the others are… worried. After what happened last night.”

“They’re alive because of us,” I said, my voice sharp despite my efforts to keep it level.

Leo nodded quickly. “I’m not saying they aren’t grateful. Just… things looked a little intense, you know? People are still trying to figure out what to make of it.”

I didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch between us. Let them worry. Let them guess. As long as they stayed out of our way when it counted, that was all that mattered.

Meanwhile, I could hear Chowon’s voice in the distance, faint but distinct, as she talked to Mikey about the fence. She laughed at something he said, the sound light and airy, but I could feel the tension beneath it like a wire pulled taut.

By the time we circled back to the others, the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. Chowon was standing by the fence, her hands on her hips, inspecting the repairs. Mikey was chatting animatedly beside her, but her attention shifted the moment she saw me.

Sakura stepped in again, her timing almost comical in its precision. “Good work,” she said briskly, addressing me and Leo. “Now let’s see if we can reinforce the house itself. Chowon, you stay with Mikey and Chaehyun for now.”

Chowon’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—annoyance, maybe, or a quiet defiance. She nodded, though, her demeanor as shy and accommodating as ever.

“Of course,” she said sweetly. “Whatever you think is best.”

I turned away before anyone could see the irritation creeping into my features. It wasn’t the right time to push back, not yet. But as we worked through the evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that separating us wasn’t just about safety.

It was about fear.

They were afraid of what we were—what we might become. Which saddened me more than it should have.

I was leaning against the safe house’s patched-up railing, enjoying the quiet for once. The group had settled in for afternoon , the tension that came with a new place giving way to a cautious calm. I was sharpening my dagger, the rhythmic scrape of the blade against the whetstone grounding me, when Leo, Donny, and Raph approached.

The three of them shuffled awkwardly, like schoolboys about to ask the teacher for help. I didn’t look up at first, letting them squirm. Finally, Leo cleared his throat.

“Uh, hey, Dinozen,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “You got a minute?”

I glanced up, deliberately slow, then tucked the my dagger and stone into my belt. “What’s up?”

Donny hesitated, his cheeks already a little red. “We, uh… we kind of need some advice. Relationship advice.”

My grip tightened for a split second, a surge of something dark and possessive rising in me. Tensions among them could work in my favor, I thought. Distract them, make them look at each other instead of us. But outwardly, I kept my expression calm and curious, tilting my head like I was genuinely interested.

“Relationship advice?” I asked, the corner of my mouth quirking up in a faint smile. “Didn’t think I was the type to give it, but sure. Shoot.”

Leo spoke first, his voice low. “It’s about Sakura. I mean, I think she might be interested, but she’s so… focused. Every time I try to talk to her, she brushes me off. I don’t know if she’s not into me or if she just doesn’t notice.”

Donny chimed in, almost cutting Leo off. “And Venus. She’s… intense, you know? But I think there’s something there. I just don’t know how to… approach her without looking like an idiot.”

I caught myself before I laughed aloud. Venus and Jihyo had been paired off since before I joined this group. The two of them might not have announced it outright, but the signs were there—the subtle, protective touches, the way they moved in sync, the private looks.

Donny’s chasing a ghost, I thought.

Then Raph added his voice to the mix. “And Haseul… I think maybe she’s been trying to… you know, drop hints? But I’m not sure if she’s just being nice or…”

Now that’s a smarter path, I thought. Haseul had been hovering near Raph more often lately, her gaze lingering when he wasn’t looking.

I leaned back against the railing, crossing my arms. Internally, my mind was already weaving threads, possibilities. If Leo and Donny turned their attention to their own pursuits, they’d have less time to focus on Chowon and me. Better yet, if things went wrong, the tension could splinter the group further. It was almost too easy.

But outwardly, I played the part of the helpful friend. “First off,” I said, “you’re all overthinking this.” I pointed at Leo. “Sakura’s the kind of person who respects directness. If you keep skirting around what you want, she’s going to assume you don’t mean it. Be upfront with her, but keep it simple. Ask her to take a break with you—something small, something that lets her focus on you for a few minutes. She’s busy, yeah, but she’s not unfeeling. Give her a reason to look at you.”

Leo nodded slowly, his brow furrowed like he was committing every word to memory.

Then I turned to Donny, keeping my voice even. “As for Venus… look, man, I hate to say it, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. Venus and Jihyo? They’ve got their own thing going on. It’s quiet, sure, but it’s there. You don’t want to put yourself in that situation.”

Donny blinked, his face falling slightly. “Oh,” he muttered.

I clapped him on the shoulder, offering a faint smile. “Don’t take it too hard. You’ll find someone who’s actually looking back at you. You’ve got the charm—just pick the right target.”

Finally, I turned to Raph, my smirk softening. “And Haseul? She’s already looking at you, man. Don’t overthink it. She’s not the kind to play games. If she’s giving you her time, it means she wants you to notice her. Just talk to her, like a person. Don’t make it bigger than it is.”

Raph’s expression shifted from nervous to thoughtful, his lips pressing into a determined line.

“Think you can manage that?” I asked, my tone light, like this was all casual advice from a guy who had it all figured out.

“Yeah,” Leo said after a moment. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Same,” Donny added, his voice firmer now.

Raph nodded as well, his eyes flickering with something like hope.

They all thanked me and wandered off, their heads already buzzing with plans. I watched them go, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips. I’d given them real advice, sure—good advice, even. But I’d also planted seeds. If Leo focused on Sakura and Donny redirected his efforts, the tension in the group might shift in ways that kept Chowon and me out of the spotlight.

And if Raph managed to connect with Haseul? Well, that was one less pair of eyes watching us.

I turned back to my dagger, picking up the whetstone and resuming the steady, calming scrape of blade against stone. They didn’t need to know how much I’d wanted to laugh at their nervousness or how little their problems mattered to me in the grand scheme of things.

As long as they stayed distracted, we could stay safe.

The late afternoon had settled in, and the house was quieter than usual, with most of the group winding down or keeping busy with last-minute chores. I’d done my part, but I couldn’t ignore the pull inside me—the pull to find her.

Chowon.

She’d been busy all day, just like everyone else, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the need for solitude. Neither of us could. So, when I noticed she’d slipped away, I didn’t think twice. I followed.

I found her in a small room at the back of the house—just a storage space, really, but it offered the kind of privacy we both craved. She was leaning against the door, her breathing shallow, like she had something weighing on her. When she saw me, her lips curved into that soft, bashful smile of hers. It made the beast inside me stir.

“You knew I’d come,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I didn’t reply at first. I couldn’t. It was one of those moments where everything else faded away, and all I could focus on was the way she looked at me. Like she wanted more but was scared of what that might mean.

Slowly, I crossed the room, my every step measured, like I was stalking prey—but she wasn’t prey, not in the way the world would think. She was mine. In a way no one else could understand. My equal. And there was a fire inside me—an unquenchable hunger—that flared every time she got close.

When I reached her, our gazes locked, and the space between us seemed to shrink. I could feel the raw energy crackling between us, a constant push and pull. Her fingers brushed against my arm, sending a pulse of electricity straight to my chest.

The mask we wore—the one that kept us from slipping into our darker instincts—was slipping. I could feel it. And it felt so damn good.

I leaned in, closer than I should have, letting her feel the heat of my breath on her skin. “You know, you’re not asking for permission, Chowon,” I said, my voice low, tinged with something dangerous.

She swallowed, a slight shiver running through her. I knew what she felt—the same thing I did. The pull, the need to break free of everything we were supposed to be.

“Maybe I’m not,” she said, her voice barely audible. Her fingers slid up my chest, and I had to bite back a growl. Everything in me screamed to take control, to claim what was mine. But I held back—just enough to let her make the choice.

The door creaked open behind us. I tensed, instinctively pulling back.

“Chowon?” Nayoung’s voice, uncertain and high-pitched, broke the moment.

Chowon immediately stepped away from me, her face flushing with embarrassment. She cleared her throat, trying to act casual, but I could feel the weight of the interruption on her, too. She had wanted this as much as I had.

Nayoung stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the two of us. I didn’t care what she saw. But Chowon… she was still trying to maintain her composure. “I was looking for you,” Nayoung added, her voice awkward.

I shot her a glance, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s fine, Nayoung. Just give us a moment.”

Nayoung hesitated, glancing between us with that familiar uncertainty, then nodded and stepped out of the room. I didn’t miss the look she shot Chowon before the door clicked shut.

Chowon sighed, letting her shoulders drop as she leaned back against the wall. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain her composure, but I could tell she was still shaken. It was just like her—trying to act like nothing had happened, like the hunger between us wasn’t real, wasn’t something she craved too.

“You’re not the only one who’s good at hiding things,” I muttered under my breath, stepping closer again.

She met my eyes, her lips curling into that soft, rueful smile. “I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“Of course you weren’t,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. But there was an understanding there too—an acknowledgment of what we were. “Neither was I.”

She looked away, but I caught the flash of something darker in her eyes, a fleeting reminder that we were both far from innocent. “Later,” she said, as though trying to pull herself together, smoothing down her clothes like she wasn’t just moments away from devouring me.

I nodded, though I wasn’t so sure “later” was going to be enough. We both knew the truth now.

We stepped out of the room together, the weight of the moment hanging between us, unspoken but undeniable. As we walked back into the chaos of the house, I couldn’t help but glance at her, the bond we shared undeniable.

And as we rejoined the others, I knew that whatever happened—no matter how much we tried to fight it—this hunger, this need, wouldn’t be so easily ignored.

When Chowon and I returned to the group, the air shifted instantly. It always did when we walked into a room together. It wasn’t something we tried to do, but people noticed. Their eyes followed us, their postures stiffened. It was the kind of attention predators gave to other predators when they didn’t know whether to trust them—or run.

The others were scattered around the central living room, doing whatever passed for relaxation these days. Leo and Sakura were hunched over a map, marking supply routes with careful precision. Donny was fiddling with a makeshift antenna, muttering about improving the safe house’s radio signal. Raph and Haseul were by the window, whispering about something that made Haseul’s cheeks flush pink. Venus and Jihyo were on the couch, arms brushing but pretending not to notice.

When we stepped into the room, all those little pockets of activity froze.

Leo glanced up first, his expression unreadable but his shoulders tensing just the same. “Back already?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with an edge I couldn’t ignore.

Chowon was quicker to answer. She plastered on one of her signature soft smiles—the kind that made her look like she couldn’t hurt a fly, even though everyone here knew better. “Just needed a breather,” she said lightly, brushing past me and settling into an empty chair near the couch. “It’s been a long day.”

“Right,” Leo muttered, exchanging a quick look with Sakura, who didn’t bother to hide her wariness.

I stayed standing, leaning casually against the doorway, but I could feel the weight of their stares. My own mask slipped into place—a practiced air of calm and control. It wasn’t hard. They expected me to be the composed, dependable one. The one who kept things steady. If only they knew how thin that line was sometimes.

Donny broke the tension first, glancing up from his antenna with an awkward grin. “Hey, uh, we were talking earlier about fortifying the south side. Might need some extra muscle for that tomorrow.”

“Dino can handle it,” Chowon said easily, her voice as sweet and warm as honey. She shot me a quick, playful glance. “He’s good at heavy lifting.”

I gave her a small smirk, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes but was enough to keep the tone light. “Only if you’re supervising,” I said, my voice low enough that only she could hear the double meaning.

She caught it, of course. Her eyes flicked to mine for a brief moment, something dark and knowing passing between us before she turned her attention back to the group.

“Speaking of tomorrow,” Jihyo chimed in, clearly trying to steer the conversation to safer ground, “we’re low on water. Someone’s going to have to scout the area for another source.”

“I can do it,” Chowon offered quickly, and I felt my chest tighten. The idea of her out there alone, even for a short trip, sent a wave of protectiveness through me that I barely managed to suppress.

“No,” Leo cut in, his tone firm. “We’ll go in pairs. It’s safer that way.” His eyes flicked to me briefly, then back to Chowon. “You and Nayoung can take that one.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still. The idea of her paired with anyone but me felt wrong, even if I knew it was irrational. Still, I kept my tone even. “Sounds like a good plan,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue.

Chowon didn’t even flinch. She nodded gracefully, folding her hands in her lap like she had no objections. But I knew her well enough to see the flicker of annoyance behind her eyes. She didn’t like being told what to do any more than I did.

As the group settled back into their routines, the tension in the room began to ease. Or at least, they thought it did. I stayed where I was, watching and listening, every sense attuned to the shifting dynamics. Leo and Sakura were still wary, still on edge. Venus kept glancing at Chowon and me when she thought we weren’t looking. Even Donny, with all his awkward charm, seemed less sure of himself around us lately.

It didn’t bother me. Not really. If anything, it kept them predictable. Distracted. As long as their tension was pointed at each other—or at us—I could keep control of the situation.

Chowon caught my eye again from across the room, her expression unreadable but her gaze lingering. The bond between us hummed like a live wire, even in the middle of this crowd. They could separate us for now, keep us at arm’s length. But it wouldn’t last.

We’d always find our way back to each other. And when we did, the masks would slip again.

I wanted to be better.

That thought was loud in my head as I dragged a sheet of metal across the safe houseyard, the makeshift panel screeching against the dirt. My muscles burned from hours of hauling supplies and hammering nails, and the sun overhead felt like it was doing its best to break me. But I didn’t stop.

This was my way of trying to help, of proving that I wasn’t just some unpredictable wildcard in their midst. I could be useful. I could be part of the group.

The others were scattered across the property, all busy with their tasks. Leo was up on the roof with Sakura, patching holes and reinforcing weak spots. Jihyo and Venus were inside, organizing supplies. Raph and Haseul were working on reinforcing the gates. They all seemed comfortable in their little pairs, moving together with an ease that came from trust and familiarity.

And then there was me. Alone.

It didn’t take much to notice the patterns. They didn’t ask me to join in their conversations or include me in their plans. Even now, when every hand mattered, they made a point of keeping me separate. “Dino, can you move those over there?” “Hey, you’re strong—get this done first.” Commands, not invitations.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. I wasn’t new to being treated like an outsider. But the weight of it all settled on me like a stone, pressing harder with every glance that lingered a little too long, every whispered conversation I couldn’t quite hear.

I was halfway through dragging another sheet of metal when it hit me—harder than it should have. A memory, unbidden and sharp as broken glass.

The day I was bitten.

I could still feel the fever that had burned through me, the way my limbs had gone weak, my vision dimming as my body betrayed me. My family had been there—faces pale with horror, tears streaking their cheeks. I had reached for them, begging them to stay, to not leave me alone.

But they had.

The memory of their retreating backs as I collapsed still burned. They had been afraid of what I’d become. And even though I’d survived, even though I wasn’t like the others, that fear had never really gone away.

It was the same fear I saw now, in the way Leo watched me like I might snap at any moment, in the way Venus kept her distance, in the way Jihyo avoided meeting my eyes.

I straightened, the metal sheet dropping from my hands with a thud. My fists clenched at my sides as my breaths came in slow, measured gulps.

I wasn’t one of them. Not really. And maybe I never would be.

I forced myself to focus, to shove those thoughts into the darkest corner of my mind. I picked up the metal sheet again and continued working, but my movements felt heavier now, like I was dragging more than just supplies.

And yet, in the back of my mind, the thought lingered: They’ll never trust you. Not fully. No matter what you do.

Still, I kept going. Because what else was there?

I stepped away from the group, needing space, air, something to calm the gnawing inside me. The predator was stirring again. It always did when I felt cornered—when the isolation, the sideways glances, and the unspoken distrust piled too high.

I found a quiet spot by the treeline and leaned against a weathered trunk, closing my eyes. My chest heaved as I tried to steady myself, my claws itching to come out even though I kept them buried. I wasn’t going to let it win. Not now.

The sound of the wind rustling through the trees should have been soothing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the voice in my head: They don’t trust you. They never have. They never will.

I dug my fingers into the bark, splintering it beneath my grip, and forced myself to breathe. One… two… three…

Then I heard it—the screams. Distant but unmistakable.

I cursed under my breath, sprinting back toward the group, the predator surging forward like it smelled blood.

When I reached the clearing, the fight was already over. The bodies of infected littered the ground, and the group was huddled together, shaken but mostly unharmed.

All eyes turned to me as I approached, their expressions a mix of relief and suspicion.

“Where the hell were you?” Venus demanded, her voice sharp.

“I stepped away for a minute,” I said, my tone tight.

“A minute?” Donny’s voice cut through the tension, his face flushed with anger. “We were fighting for our lives, and you were just—what? Taking a stroll?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you,” he said, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You slayers are always so selfish, so worthless in a group setting. All you care about is yourselves!”

The words hit harder than they should have, and something inside me snapped.

The predator roared to life, surging forward with a ferocity I couldn’t contain. My vision blurred, and a low growl escaped my throat before I even realized it.

I stepped toward Donny, my muscles tensing as every instinct screamed for recompense. His scent was sharp—fear, adrenaline, something that only fueled the hunger clawing its way up my spine.

“Dinozen,” Chowon’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding.

I froze, my gaze snapping to hers. She stepped between us, her hand lightly brushing my arm, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just her.

“Hey,” she said softly, but there was steel beneath her tone. “We all need to take a breather sometimes. Let it go.”

Donny’s mouth opened, but she shot him a glare that silenced him immediately.

She turned back to me, her eyes searching mine. “Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I let her lead me away, my chest still heaving with the effort of keeping the predator at bay. She didn’t say anything until we were far enough from the group that their voices were just a faint murmur.

When we stopped, she turned to face me, her gaze steady.

“Let it out,” she said, her voice calm but firm.

I shook my head, backing away. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” she interrupted, stepping closer. “I’m here. I can handle it.”

Her words broke something in me. The predator surged forward, and I let it. My head tilted back as a roar tore from my throat, reverberating through the trees. It was raw, primal, and louder than I’d ever allowed it to be.

When the sound finally faded, I slumped forward, breathing hard. Chowon’s hand was on my chest, steadying me.

Her eyes softened, and before I could say anything, she leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was grounding, pulling me back from the edge.

“You’re not alone,” she whispered against my lips.

I rested my forehead against hers, closing my eyes. The predator was still there, but it had quieted, content for now.

The living room was lit with a warm glow, the crackle of a fire providing the soundtrack to our makeshift Christmas celebration. Despite everything—the attacks, the tension, the unspoken fears—we had found a moment to gather as a group. A small tree sat in the corner, decorated with scavenged ornaments, and under it were gifts, most wrapped in patchwork paper or cloth.

Venus stood up first, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she held out a small, carefully wrapped box. “Alright, Dinozen,” she said, her voice teasing, “you’re up.”

I blinked, surprised that she’d drawn my name. When I took the package, the weight of it felt solid but unfamiliar. With the group’s eyes on me, I peeled back the paper and froze.

Inside was a revolver-shaped dice chamber. The bullets, each intricately carved into polyhedral dice, gleamed in the light.

“You mentioned liking D&D and guns,” Venus said, her tone nonchalant but her gaze curious, watching for my reaction. “Thought I’d combine the two.”

I turned the revolver chamber in my hands, feeling the weight of it, the craftsmanship. For a moment, the predator inside me stirred, sensing the symbolism of the weapon. But as I looked at Venus, I pushed it down and smiled—genuinely. “This is incredible. Thank you.”

Venus gave a small nod, and I caught a flicker of something—maybe trust—cross her face before she sat back down.

My turn. I reached into the bag beside me and pulled out a small box. “Nagyung,” I said, holding it out. “This one’s for you.”

Nagyung’s face lit up as she unwrapped the gift. Inside was a handheld gaming console I had found and fixed up, complete with a charger. Her eyes widened as she turned it over in her hands.

“You got it working?” she asked, her voice filled with awe.

“Yup,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “Thought you could use something to pass the time when things get quiet.”

She grinned, her excitement contagious. “This is amazing. Thank you!”

As she admired the gift, I noticed something in her gaze—a quick glance toward Donny, then back to the console. The pieces clicked.

“Hey,” I said, standing suddenly and catching everyone’s attention. “Hold up.”

The group stilled, confused, but I ignored them, focusing on Nagyung. “You like Donny, don’t you?”

Her face flushed red, and she stammered, “I—what? I don’t—”

Donny, equally flustered, muttered, “What’s he talking about?”

I raised a hand, cutting off the denials. “Look, it’s Christmas. If there’s ever a time to be honest about how you feel, it’s now.” I looked between the two of them. “Talk. Now.”

The room was silent as Nagyung and Donny hesitated, but then Nagyungtook a deep breath, standing. Donny followed her lead, and together, they walked out of the room, whispering to each other.

When the door closed behind them, the tension in the room shifted. The group looked at me, their expressions softening. For the first time, I saw understanding in their eyes.

“Guess you’ve got a heart after all,” Venus murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Don’t push it,” I replied, but there was no heat in my voice.

The gift exchange continued, the atmosphere lighter now. When it finally ended, Chowon tugged on my sleeve, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“Come on,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent.

I didn’t need to be told twice. We slipped away from the group, moving through the quiet hallways until we found a secluded corner.

Chowon turned to me, her eyes dark and predatory, but there was a tenderness there too. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I smirked, stepping closer. “Takes one to know one.”

Her hand slid up my arm, her touch grounding and electrifying all at once. “They’re starting to see you, Dino. The real you. It’s working.”

I tilted my head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You make it easier.”

The predator in me stirred, recognizing her as my equal, my mate. And for once, I didn’t fight it. As our lips met, the masks we wore for the group slipped away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered bond between us. In between messy hungry kisses, Chowon said, “You have no idea how angry I was when Donny came after you. I should have let you tear into him. We should have torn into them all,” Chowon said as her inner lioness sheds its meek mask. Her eyes shone with that familiar hunger. I feel imperious come out and Chowon purrs in satisfaction. “There’s my partner in crime. My equal.” She moans as she goes in for another kiss. we spend the rest of the night together cuddling and enjoying each other's presence.

The moonlight filtered through the cracked blinds of the safe house as Chowon moved silently through the halls. The group had settled in for the night, their murmured conversations and quiet laughter fading into the background. But her focus wasn’t on them. It was on Donny.

She found him sitting alone near the back entrance, fiddling with the straps of his boots. He looked up when he sensed her presence, his posture stiffening.

“Chowon,” he said, his voice cautious. “Something you need?”

Her usual mask—kind, bashful, unassuming—was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was an intensity in her eyes, something primal and dangerous that froze Donny in place. She stepped closer, and though her movements were slow and deliberate, there was an undeniable power in them, like a lioness stalking her prey.

“You’ve got a lot to say about my equal,” she began, her voice low and sharp as a blade. “Too much.”

Donny blinked, his mouth opening to respond, but no words came out.

Chowon leaned in, her face inches from his, and the predatory edge in her gaze made him shrink back. “Listen to me carefully, Donny,” she said, her tone steady and calm, but laced with the unmistakable promise of violence. “If you ever come after Dinozen like that again, I will tear your throat out.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and for a moment, Donny was too stunned to react. He could feel the weight of her presence, the raw, animalistic power she usually kept buried beneath her quiet demeanor.

And then, just as quickly as it had surfaced, it was gone. Chowon straightened, the warmth returning to her eyes as she tilted her head and gave him a gentle, almost apologetic smile. “You should get some rest,” she said sweetly as if nothing had happened. “Long day tomorrow.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Donny sitting there, still trying to process what had just happened.

As Chowon disappeared into the shadows, the predator within her purred in satisfaction. Her equal was safe, and the balance had been restored. For now.

We were nearly ready to leave the safe house, the group moving like a well-oiled machine, though the unease of what lay ahead was palpable. I busied myself with the perimeter, scanning the tree line and listening for any sound out of place. The air had a weight to it, a sense that something wasn’t right, but I chalked it up to nerves.

Then the ground started trembling.

“Everyone, on alert!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the bustle.

The first thing I saw was the treeline parting as a massive creature—a hulking monstrosity of decay and muscle—lurched forward. It shouldn’t have been able to move so fast, but it did, each step shaking the earth. And then it opened its mouth and breathed fire.

“Scatter!” I roared, drawing my weapon and placing myself between the group and the beast.

Chaos erupted as flames licked the edges of the safe house, forcing the others to dive for cover. My heart pounded, the predator within me straining against my control, but I couldn’t let it take over. Not now. Not in front of them.

The monster charged, and I met it head-on, weaving past its fiery breath and slashing at its joints. My strikes landed, but this thing wasn’t going down easy. Every swing of its massive claws forced me back, each roar rattling my bones.

“Dino!” Chowon’s voice reached me, frantic and desperate.

“Stay with them!” I barked, not daring to look at her. “I’ve got this!”

But the beast had other plans. Its massive claw lashed out, wrapping around me like a vice. I thrashed, slashing and kicking, but it was no use. The world tilted as it yanked me off the ground, dragging me away.

“Chowon!” I shouted, but I couldn’t see her anymore. Only the burning horizon and the sound of the group retreating.

Sakura grabbed her arm. “Chowon, we have to go!”

“I’m not leaving him!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion.

The group hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Chowon and their survival instincts. Finally, Leo spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t want us to die here.”

The group began to retreat, dragging Chowon with them. She fought them every step of the way, but eventually, she relented, her eyes never leaving the direction Dinozen had been taken.

An hour later, Chowon sat alone by the charred remains of a tree, her knees pulled to her chest. Her mind raced, torn between worry for Dinozen and guilt for letting the group leave without her.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense, her hand instinctively going to her knife. A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with dark eyes and a calm, almost disarming smile.

#k pop smut #kpop fanfic #chowon lightsum #lightsum fanfic #chowon fanfiction #chowon smut #chowon x oc

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wrangleandtame · 3 months ago

Text

A Distinct Hook Echo (Finally)

Tyler vowed to kiss her tonight. This was getting ridiculous. He’d clutched the handle of her suitcase at that airport instead of grabbing her around the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic kiss. Kate had practically shot up flares and waved him in using airplane marshaling wands, and he still just stared at her mouth like an idiot.

All afternoon, as they pursued storms across muggy Oklahoma fields, he’d squandered every opportunity to cup the back of her neck and draw her into an adrenaline-veneered kiss; each golden moment slipping through his fingers like so much hematitic Oklahoma dirt.

Her rebooked flight departed in the morning, so when the last possible tornado of the day busted out, they stumbled across a familiar motel and agreed to clean up and get some rest.

“Kate?” He stopped her as she began to trudge up the motel stairs, and she spun to face him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” He casually pulled a piece of grass hay from her hair. “Pretty sure the only place open is the Shady Grady bar across the street, so I can’t guarantee the quality of the meal, but -“

“Eight o’clock?”

He nodded, “eight o’clock.”

At seven-thirty, he entered the bar determined to stow his uncharacteristic jitters and make a goddamned move.

As far as romantic settings go, Tyler figured he’d just have to make the most of the meager atmosphere. Music blared from a cheap sound system, filling the establishment with muted, cracked versions of modern country ballads. The stale air smelled of peanuts, alcohol, and overtly perfumed customers.

He promptly spotted Kate, who smiled at him from a booth across the room; those globular brown eyes drew him to her like tractor beams. He strode confidently through a packed dance floor of denim, cowboy hats, and clacking boots on the oak floor.

“You’re early,” he said and slid into the high-backed wood booth.

“So are you,” she observed with a grin.

Honey-lit by the poorly attempted ambient lighting, her hair glowed golden, her mascara-dressed eyes the dark rich mahogany of the drink in the tumbler before her.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing Kate in two states of being: completely disheveled or freshly scrubbed. Witnessing the polished version stirred within him a fresh yearning. Radiant in her simple black silk camisole, small gold hoop earrings, and glossy lips, she’d pinned half her hair up, the remaining falling in blonde waves brushing her shoulders.

“You’re always beautiful Kate,” he tried not to behave as gobsmacked as he felt. “But tonight, you’re goddamned stunning.”

“Pretty dapper yourself.”

In reality, the only difference in his appearance from his usual attire was the addition of a soft caramel blazer, and, of course, the efforts she couldn’t see: his frantic pre-date preparations of trimming his nose hairs, whitening his teeth, manicuring his junk, clipping his toenails and spraying on some Dior Sauvage.

He tore his eyes from her to examine the laptop, tablet, binder, notebook and phone strewn across the table, “what’s all this?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to rework some things before my presentation, and the motel’s wifi is garbage.”

“Making any progress?” he seized a yellow legal pad and scanned her neatly written notes.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Would you want to do a read-through? Let me know what you think? I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“Course I would. But, I’d bet the farm you’re overthinkin’ it.”

“You’ve got to have a farm to bet first.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm. Send it to me; I’ll read it tonight.”

She tapped at the keys, presumably texting the file to him, and without looking up she said, “I’m actually glad you’re early.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled, “why’s that?”

She quickly evaluated their immediate surroundings and leaned in, lowering her voice, “Some mega creep isn’t taking no for an answer; he keeps circling me like I’m roadkill.”

“Need me to scare him off?”

“Need? No. Want? Very much so.”

“I can do that,” he smiled widely.

She tilted her head, “why do you look so eager?”

“I like bein’ useful to you.”

“Have I not told you how incredibly useful I find you?”

“Not near enough,” he retained his eyes on her, memorizing her face at this moment.

The creep suddenly appeared at their table, too tall and too attractive, Tyler decided, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

He placed a glass of liquor in front of Kate, ignoring Tyler’s presence altogether. "Hey there, beautiful. Woodford Reserve, neat, right?”

“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” Tyler drawled, snatched the glass and downed the drink in one swallow, slamming the empty tumbler back on the table. “This sure is a friendly town.”

Megacreep seethed, “That wasn’t for you!”

“Oh, my apologies,” Tyler feigned confusion. “When you said ‘beautiful,’ I thought you were talkin’ to me.”

Kate chortled and covered it by clearing her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” Megacreep snarled at him.

“Now here I thought sure you were a fan of mine,” Tyler declared. “I get a lot of free drinks from my fans.”

“Is this your fella?” MegaCreep asked Kate.

She gazed at Tyler, her eyes shining affectionately, “there is a distinct and growing possibility.”

He smirked, “hear that buddy? I’m a growin’ possibility.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Been called worse. Today even.”

Kate chuckled, and Megacreep stepped towards her, pointing his large finger at her, “what kinda bitch doesn’t say she’s got a boyfriend?”

Tyler stood in a blink, placing himself physically between Kate and Megacreep. Arms akimbo and his voice cold, Tyler practically growled, “you’re gonna walk away now. Nope, no, don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Walk the fuck away. Go on now.”

Megacreep stared him down for a moment, as though considering his options. Despite Megacreep’s height advantage, Kate wasn’t too concerned; Tyler’s sturdy presence and irrepressible conviction imbued the intimidating impression that he wouldn’t at all require height.

“What a waste,” Megacreep snarled, and stomped away like a pissed toddler. Tyler didn’t move, his eyes glued to the guy until he fully exited the bar.

His relaxed posture returned immediately, and he slid back into the vinyl seat across from her.

“You white knighted me,” she teased warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get back to that distinct possibility you were talkin’ about.”

She laughed, “Tyler, I’m leaving in the morning.”

“But you’re comin’ back.”

“Probably.”

He scowled, “what do you mean ‘probably’? You’re not thinkin’ about staying in New York? You don’t belong in New York, Kate.”

“Why’s that?”

He appeared personally aggrieved and more than a little irritated, “you’re tellin’ me you’d be happier in New York? I mean, your face when we’re out there in those fields? You light up like a firefly in June! You sure as shit aren’t letting us do this without you.”

She blinked softly at him.

Relief dressed his face, “you enjoyin’ watchin’ me squirm?”

“Lil’ bit,” She shrugged.

“Sadist.”

She laughed. Under the gloLike cozying beside a crackling fire on a chilly evening, it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth and joy under the glow of his full attention.

He regarded her, “seriously, Kate, you’re a fuckin’ knockout.”

“Thank you,” she responded, oddly flustered from his blatant admiration; she glanced at her drink and then back up at his ridiculously handsome face. She couldn’t think what else to say. Her mother always christened Kate as bilingual, in that she spoke English and sass fluently. Charm, however, she could never harness. Tyler Owens had a master’s degree.

Initially, upon meeting Tyler, she attempted minimal eye contact to avoid the unnerving fever of his beauty. Quickly though, he disarmed her hesitancy with his earnest altruism and overflowing enthusiasm, and she’d been forced to become accustomed to his excessively good looks.

“Jesus Christ, what kind of whiskey are you drinking?” He peered into her tumbler, feeling slightly buzzed. “Shit’s strong.”

“It’s just bourbon.”

“Bourbon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You a mafia kingpin or a nineteen fifties ad exec?”

She smiled, “I like bourbon. My grandfather used to give me little sips as a kid. Misguided as he was, I think I developed a taste for it.”

Kate’s reticence about her life enflamed Tyler’s natural delight in discovery. Every tidbit, every newly uncovered piece of the Kate-puzzle felt like a win, "Is he still alive, your grandfather?”

As she started to answer, a sudden vertiginous wave pummeled him, and he placed his palms on the table for stability.

“Tyler, are you okay?”

He squinted, a sleepy warmth spread through his limbs, “I had exactly one drink, your drink, and that was it.”

“What does that mean; are you feeling sick?”

His jaw muscles clenched, and his eyebrows drew together as though he deliberated on something difficult or painful.

“Tyler?” She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. “Answer me. Are you okay?”

He met her eyes and fumed, “I think that skyscraper-sized predator roofied your drink.”

“What? Seriously?”

“I’m going to feed him his fuckin’ teeth,” he stood, irate, and then immediately sat back down, “after the room stops spinning.”

“Oh my god. We should, we should get you to the hospital,” she slammed her laptop lid closed and started shoveling everything into her messenger bag.

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“You don’t know what he put in there, or more importantly, how much.”

“I don’t need a damn hospital,” he scowled. “I’m wasted. I’m not dying.”

Her face puckered in concern, “how do you feel?”

He shrugged, “tore up from the floor up.”

“If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then we need to get you to your room before you pass out.”

“Not gonna pass out.”

“How do you know?” She tilted her head, “You been roofied before?”

“Course not.”

“Well I have, so I can tell you that we need to get you somewhere before you pass out. And fast.”

His face fell, “you’ve, Kate, you’ve been -“

“In college. I was fine. I was with friends who kept me safe. It happens more often than you can imagine. Now let’s get you out of here, because Tyler, I don’t think I can carry you.”

He swallowed, his face pained, “yeah, yeah okay.”

He rose to his feet and inhaled deeply while Kate wrapped her messenger bag across her body and stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“Here, put your arm around me in case you get woozy.”

“I know you’re strong Kate, but if I go down, it’s going to be like getting clobbered by a bald cypress.”

“Just do what I’m saying,” she gripped his hand and hung it around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Bossy,” he grumbled.

“You like it,” she scoffed, “Pfft, a bald cypress. You think quite a lot of yourself.”

He chuckled and then he sighed, suddenly forlorn, “hey, I’m, I really didn’t imagine this is how our date would go.”

“Well maybe later you can tell me what you did imagine.”

“You flirtin’ with me?”

“For days now, Tyler. Let’s get out of here.”

They began the journey across the wooden floor, feet crunching upon the husks of peanut shells tossed aside, and to his credit, Tyler walked fairly well, despite his growing sense of instability. They weaved around the little square tables littered with empty beer bottles, shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins.

They both immediately glimpsed the sky as they exited the bar, habitually checking conditions. The fresh temperate air returned a sense of normalcy to the peculiar circumstances.

They crossed the deserted highway hand in hand, by the time they reached the stairs of the motel, Tyler felt he’d crossed the Rubicon, and plopped himself down on the bottom step.

“If you rest there, you’re going to end up staying there; get up, Tyler.”

“Alrighty,” he pulled himself up by the railing.

“Which room?”

“Hmm. Not sure actually,” he pointed at the entire row of motel rooms, his vision progressively more blurry.

“That’s alright. I need to keep an eye on you anyway. Let’s just go to mine,” she climbed the stairs behind him and then grasped his hand, guiding him into her room.

“Sit down,” she pointed at her bed, and he obliged obediently. For a clearly vain man, Tyler truly possessed very little ego. He never appeared slighted or emasculated by Kate’s leadership or expertise. From day one, he approached her as though her abilities very possibly exceeded his own. She couldn’t say the same for ninety-seven percent of her male colleagues, even those with years less experience and education. Tyler’s cocky assuredness should have translated into the typical arrogant know-it-all, but ever-surprisingly, his heart and mind opened to all ideas, and he easily credited those around him for his successes.

“Kate?”

“Yeah?” She unloaded her gear onto the dresser top and turned to face his distressed expression.

“I’m hammered, and I’m twice your size,” He frowned. “That drink would have knocked you out cold.”

“I know, Tyler.”

“He might’ve, I mean if you drank that instead of me, if I wasn’t there, he could’ve…” he appeared both furious and on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, I know,” she grimaced. “Try not to think about it.”

“I’m sorry, that this world, that you have to deal with shit like that.”

“It’s alright,” she leaned against the dresser.

“It’s, it’s not,” he scowled, “why aren’t you angry?”

“I am, I just don’t have any practical answers, and I’m more concerned about you right now.”

He stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up, “You can’t ever accept a drink from someone you don’t know, okay?”

“I don’t,” she informed him as she helped him remove his blazer.

“You don’t?”

“No. I learned the hard way, but I learned,” she hung his blazer on the back of the office chair.

“That’s good. That’s real good. I feel better. World still sucks, though.”

He laid back on the bed, looking at the ceiling and promptly fell asleep.

Kate watched him breathe for a few minutes, then unpacked her bags and briefly stepped out of the room to place a few phone calls.

A short time later, while Kate again read through her presentation, she heard Tyler stir and turned in her chair to check in on him.

“Oh shit,” he bolted upright, “Kate, what if that asshole goes down the road and roofies some other girl?”

“I called the cops.”

“What? When?”

“When you passed out a little bit ago. They asked me to file a report online, and they called the two bars in the area and gave them my description.”

“I didn’t pass out.”

“You did. For about forty-five minutes. You snored.”

He eyed her skeptically. Those eyes. Good lord, was there even a name for that color? Not in any crayola box she’d seen.

“You did,” she imagined an alternative method in discovering he snored, but quickly redirected her thoughts.

“Do you have to go to New York?” He slurred.

“I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure yet. Get some sleep Tyler.”

“Hey Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you two dozen times since we met. Atleast.”

She cocked her head and grinned, “Well what’s the holdup Tyler Owens?”

He smiled softly, “I’ve put the horse before the cart a few times. Too many times. Guess I didn’t want to, you know, I didn’t want to fuck this up, you and me. I mean I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you since the day I first saw you, your hair all pulled into that clip, wearin’ that buttoned-up outfit and that serious beautiful face. Mile high walls up, and then you speak, and you’re fuckin’ brilliant and a little snarky -“

“I’m not snarky.”

“The snarkiest. Your mother agrees with me on this.”

“Of course she does.”

“Shush, I’m tryin’ to woo you with my words since my goddamned body feels like goo.”

“Well then go on. You’re doing fine.”

“I am?”

“Oh yes.”

He beamed, “so like I was sayin’, I didn’t want to fuck it up, and then the first time I saw you smile, like really smile, well, shit, I was done for. And then I really didn’t want to fuck it up. And I thought tonight, I’m not gonna blow it, and now,” he sighed. “Well, I can’t kiss you while I’m shitfaced. Can’t actually feel my lips right now,” he closed his eyes and touched his lips. “There they are. Okay I can feel them.”

She stifled a laugh. His inebriated declaration moved her to match his bold honesty, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, and in case I haven’t made it very clear: I would like you to kiss me. Try not to worry on it. It’ll happen. And I’ll kiss you back, and then all of the other good things that come with that.”

He smiled, full teeth, “that is. S’wonderful. News.”

“Isn’t it?” She tried not to giggle. Even in this dingy motel room, Tyler practically glowed with health. Eternally sun-gilded, eyes that sparkled like a freshwater lake in summer, his sculpted body a vision of purpose.

He frowned, “what if I don’t remember?”

“I’ll remind you.”

“Promise?” His eyes so round he resembled what he must have looked like as a child.

“Cross my heart.”

“And you’re comin’ back?”

“Of course I’m coming back. The only thing I have in New York is a plant I’ve killed and replaced six times, a neighbor cat I pretend is mine, and workmates that think I don’t know their nickname for me is Elsa.”

“Who’s Elsa?”

“The snow queen.”

“You’re from Oklahoma.”

“It’s their terribly clever way of saying I’m an icy cold bitch.”

“What? But. You’re not. You’re kind and compassionate and who the fuck would think that?”

“It really doesn’t bother me,” she quietly thought on it for a moment. “This one guy, god he hates me, he hums, “let it go,” when I walk past him.”

“What’s that?”

“The song. You know.”

“How’s it go?”

Kate cleared her throat and hummed a few bars.

He shook his head “I don’t think I’ve heard it.”

“You’ve heard it,” Kate sang, “let it go, let it go, I don’t know the rest of the woooords.”

Mischief in his eyes, he smirked, “you’ve got a pretty voice.”

She laughed, “you shit, you know what song I’m talking about!”

“Course I know that song. I’m from Arkansas not Mars.”

She laughed and his heavy eyelids drooped again, “Tyler, go ahead and rest.

“Maybe just for a sec,” he stretched out across the bed and nearly instantly fell asleep again.

She turned back to her laptop and spent an hour extensively researching drugs used in date rapes, narrowing by state and then county. She reviewed the short and long term effects of the top three. Worst case scenarios always lapped her brain, and she found research could occasionally ease the anxiety. She tried reassuring herself that he likely metabolized quickly.

After an hour or so, he suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

She jumped up from her chair, “whoa, where you going?”

“Bathroom,” he closed one eye and pointed at the bathroom.

“Need help getting there?”

He used the edge of the bed as a handrail, working himself around it and closer to the bathroom, “I got it.”

She tried not to imagine him passing out and hitting his head as he shut the door. After he had flushed the toilet and the water ran for ten minutes Kate called through the door, “Tyler? You good?”

Tyler opened the door, shirtless, her toothbrush hanging out of his frothy mouth, “I’m good,” and he resumed brushing his teeth.

She eyed his white tee, button down and belt abandoned on the linoleum.

“Can’t stand my teeth feelin’ fuzzy,” he mumbled through a mouth full of toothpaste. He stopped brushing, eyes wide, “oh shit, this isn’t my toothbrush, cuz this isn't my room.”

She desperately attempted to retain her eyes on his face as she replied, “it’s fine.”

“What time is it?” He asked, post-gargle.

“Three AM.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We should get some sleep.”

“That’s a great idea.”

He dropped to the bed like a felled tree, and seemed to find sleep immediately.

She attempted to wiggle his boots from his feet, which took quite a bit more effort than she anticipated, jostling him back awake in the process.

“Whatcha doin?” He raised to his elbows, watching her struggle with a fond amusement.

“Trying to help you,” she grunted, straddled his leg and yanking at the unmoving boot.

“You wanna help me, come on up here and cuddle me.”

She dropped his foot and peered at his lifted head, “Cuddle you?”

“Mmmhmm, c’mere Kate,” he held out his very attractive arms (that led to the rest of his very attractive body) to her as he easily toed off his boots.

She lowered herself next to him, and he pulled her flush against his chest, both strong arms wrapped around her. She adjusted slightly, and found herself unusually comfortable, given the hard terrain of his chisled chest.

“You clicked right into place like a lego; fit perfectly like you were made to go right here,” his voice rumbly from her location. “Legos click in, right? Did that make a damn bit of sense? Still feelin' a little smashed.”

His soft dark chest hair tickled her nose, “made sense and also accurate. Good job.”

“This’s nice. You smell nice. Like lemon merengue pie.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

He always smelled like everything she associated with love: wind-blown winter wheat fields, metallic dust, engine oil, earthy geosmin and crisp ozone. Tonight, his usual smells mixed with soap and that peppery manly cologne that seemingly every guy south of Nebraska wore.

She felt a bit self-conscious. Before this moment, they hadn’t even hugged. Strange to think, given how close she felt to him. The intimacy of having their bodies pressed against one another flicked inner switches she thought long dead. Shit, she hadn’t actually “cuddled” with anyone in a long long while. In five years. Not since the last time Jeb -

“Stop thinkin’.”

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Can feel it in your body,” he ran one large hand down over her shoulder, along her torso, skimmed over her hip and back again. “Rest Kate.”

She very nearly moaned, and swallowed before answering, “I’ll try.”

“Relax your body. Listen to my heart. You’re okay. I’m okay. Let’s sleep.” he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Rest Kate.”

She smiled into his chest.

“Goodnight Sapulpa.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

A few minutes passed, and her eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs leaden.

She relaxed, but she didn’t fall asleep for quite some time, just listening to his deep breathing, her head and hand falling into the rhythm of his chest. His strong heart beat a steady consistent rhythm , and she’d have been lying to herself if she didn’t consider for just a moment, that she belonged right here, in his arms, on his chest: warm, safe, cared for. Who wouldn’t want that?

She glanced up at his sweet little mouth, open and letting out even puffs of air. Who wouldn’t want him?

Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

Besides, the logistics bordered on nightmarish. Sure, she wanted him. Badly. But, the last time she had attempted to fuck some idiot plagued her brain. She’d finally given it a go after three years in New York, not because her heart called out, but because her body demanded it. The moment the making out progressed into something more, her heart rate picked up, her body rife with confusion, launched her into a full-blown panic attack. She ended up shoving him off of her, locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting and hyperventilating for an hour. She’d Uber’d home and completely swore off dating after that. Hell, after that, she’d even consume a glass of wine before masturbating to avoid the possibility of bringing on another panic attack. Add to that, her Jeb-based survivor’s guilt tainted any bit of attraction she felt for other men. It just hadn’t been on her mind anymore. It didn’t seem possible, so she stopped caring.

That disastrous date occurred years ago; she attempted to reason with herself. She drove straight into tornadoes now for fuck’s sake! When did that become less frightening than fucking a man who nearly made her come every time he called her Sapulpa (stupidest nickname ever.) Tyler had awakened a desire in her she thought she’d fully cremated.

She feared even trying. Good lord, if it went well, though - wasn’t it worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?

She’d argued with herself in this fashion a dozen times in the last forty-eight hours.

She must have fallen asleep for an hour or two, but awoke at first light, the little spoon, his heavy arm draped across her waist, his palm under her shirt, tucked around her abdomen.

She checked her phone and her flight status: on time. Disappointment weighted her to the bed for another moment, before obligations began stacking in her brain, and she slipped from beneath him to ready herself and her belongings.

She considered waking him but settled on grabbing a pen from her bag and jotting a note on a motel pad.

“Where you goin’?” he groused from bed.

She turned to see him sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“My plane is on time. Javi’s downstairs.”

“I can drive you.”

She walked over to the bed and sat next to him, “best not drive yet. Just in case.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know but, for my peace of mind, just sleep a little longer and then hydrate.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Next week, at the latest. Go back to sleep.”

She stood and grabbed her suitcase handle. His chest tightened; her impending departure upset him in a way he couldn’t fathom. No concrete ties bound them; they’d made no promises. Kate’s face at the airport yesterday, “this could be it,” pinged around in his brain.

“Hey Sapulpa?”

She turned towards him, a moment from reaching for the doorknob.

“Don’t go.”

She again released the suitcase, sauntered to him, and stood between his legs. He tilted his face up, and her hands rested on either side of his face, sending tingles down his neck. Her thumbs brushing over his ears, her lips hovered so near to his, he thought he might be dreaming. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting generously for Tyler to seal the deal. He closed the centimeter between their mouths, crashing his soft warm lips into hers. Their kiss went from chaste to passionate in less than half a second, and Tyler pulled her down to straddle him upon the bed. He leaned back, taking her with him, and quickly flipped her beneath him, all without breaking the slow, wet, deep kisses they pressed upon each other. Their ministrations rounded corners neither had intended when Kate broke the kiss. His mouth detoured to her neck biting and kissing up to her ears, and she struggled to find coherent speech.

“I’d like to stay right here with you,” she huffed, breathless, “but, I, I have to go Tyler.”

“I know,” he kissed her cheeks, chin, nose and mouth, again, softly and too briefly.

“Next week?” He asked voice thick with desire, as she unclasped her legs from around his waist, realizing with chagrin she’d caged him in a thigh-vise.

“At the latest,” she smiled into his mouth, and he pulled her up to standing with him.

His brawny arms still trapped her against him when a knock at the door drew them back to reality.

He sighed, his nose nuzzling hers, “Javi’s impatient.”

“Reporting for duty!” Boone yelled through the door.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, pulling his face back to meet her eyes, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

She gripped his face in her palms, lovingly running her thumbs along his jaw, “I know you’re not feeling the effects anymore, but the half-life of Rohypnol is like twenty hours, if that’s even what he dosed you with. It just, it scares me Tyler. I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

He softened at her vulnerability, planted one last slow and impossibly gentle kiss upon her lips and whispered, “better let him in then.”

She opened her motel door to Boone’s enormous smile, “Heya Kate. Javi’s chomping at the bit down there; he says you’ll miss your flight if you don’t get a move on.”

“Thank you for getting here so fast,” she gave him a quick hug.

“No problemo,” he nodded and plopped down in the office chair, spun around once entirely, and then watched Kate and Tyler exchange a languishing look.

“Sent me your proposal?”

She smiled at him from the doorway, suitcase in hand, “yep.”

He returned her smile, “Call me when you land?”

“I will. Hydrate. Rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the door clicked to a close behind her, his heart ached, but with less finality.

“So? Did you do it? Did you kiss her?”

“C’mon, Boone, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but did you? Did you kiss her?”

“Course I kissed her,” he smiled proudly, falling back into bed to the sound of Boone’s signature “yip!”

One week, at the most.

Hell, he’d been searching for her his whole life; what was another week?

AUTHOR’s NOTE:

This was just supposed to be a fluffy lil fic I would return to whenever I got frustrated writing my other fics. Didn’t mean for it to turn into 5k words monster fic. Feed this writer with your comments, if you feel so inspired. I love reading your feedback.

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