#pale fugitive

[rostomanologist]

"she never asked for her hunt. she needed help. so i provided. i took her pain"

once known as commander anemona, the pale fugitive is now in eternal run. she did what she could during zhaitan and mordremoth campaigns - and broke after, being not ready for the fight and, moreover, never being asked if she was.

once known as alba, the pale fugitive is now rejected and lost. an ancient dragon, scion of mordremoth purified ages ago, she spent most of her life hiding. her attempts to favor and help people in maguuma were fruitless, so she laid low, trying to defend herself from her master. and when he died, she started to wither.

once being separate people, they are now one person with a lot of secrets.

the dragon desperately wanted to live, whereas the valiant craved for death. so they had a deal. they merged. alba consumed anemona, took everything belonging to her - body, memories, duty - and provided her rest, promising to continue her legacy.

she fulfilled it. and when aurene, the only one who knew about true nature of her champion, departed to slumber, she opened up to tyria. probably was a mistake.

so she had to run again, now to the mists.

just to seek shelter in other tyria that never knew her.

[anomaly-hivemind]

Dive In ☆ Merman! Gojo x Scrientist! Reader | Kinktober Day 14

Summary: You were brought in to study a merman whom you heard was quite aggressive; however, he’s always been kind to you. You were able to get close. Maybe a bit too close.

Word Count: 3978

Tags: Merman!Gojo, afab!reader, vaginal penetration, scratch marks, porn with plot, cunnilingus, handjobs, experimental sex, mating, government facilities, the reader becomes a fugitive, mating rituals, creampie, breeding, transformations, wet dreams.

When you got a call from the federal government you didn’t know what to expect. You were honestly a bit worried that you had done something you weren’t supposed to and were going to be silenced. The last thing you expected to see however was a mermaid, or merman in this case.

You were a  NOAA scientist and had seen so many strange sea creatures, so the possibility of mermaids being out there wasn't out of the realm of possibility. However, you didn’t think that they would exist like this. The closest thing humanity has had to mermaids is manatees and dugongs. When thinking critically this is what most people assumed mermaids would look similarly to. That they would have rough skin and blubber and coarse hair or fur. However, this merman swimming before you looked like something right out of a fairy tale.

Based on the way it floated around his head, his hair looked to be the same texture as human hair. His whole upper half looked to be very human aside from the gills you could see on the sides of his neck, the fins on his arms, and the fin-like ears he had. 

“Ah Dr.L/N, Pleased to meet you,” An older man came up to you and extended his hand. He was in a fine pair of slacks and a pristine button-down with a black tie and white lab coat overtop. 

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. He introduced himself as the lead researcher for this top-secret project and gave you the rundown. A fisherman from a small town in Kauai, Hawaii called in about a wild animal of some sort stealing fish. Eventually, another fisherman got a strange “Fishman” caught in his nets and called the Coast Guard, and from there, it became a bit more about coverup from the general public. The fisherman was compensated handsomely to keep hush and this merman was carted off to this government facility.

They began running tests and researching the merman however he attacked one of the researchers and they ended up losing an eye. So they had to pivot and decided to bring in someone with expertise in predatory marine life, that being you.

You looked back at the white-haired merman in the tank, he didn’t look aggressive, but you’d have to be an idiot to think that he wasn’t actually dangerous.

“I’ll let you take over as lead researcher, come on and I’ll introduce you to the team.” You followed after him and met the other researchers. It was a small group, most likely for the sake of confidentiality. They were kind but you didn’t want to waste any time chatting when you were eager to learn more about the merman.

The tank of the merman was that of a large shark, it was important to keep a new species as comfortable as possible to avoid any personal injuries. At the bottom it was made of the usually thick tempered glass of any high-grade aquarium, Is almost twenty feet deep of water, wide enough for the merman to swim freely without bumping into the walls, and filled to the brim with clean salt water filtering into the tank. 

A cage was newly added on top of the tank after the first incident to ensure the workers' safety. So the only way to get up close and personal was up the flight of stairs and through the locked door to stand on the built-in ledge over the water/tank opening. 

You walked back over to the tank where the merman swam around lethargically. You ripped off a paper from a nearby notepad and took the pen as you began writing basic facts about his appearance.

Long white hair, pale skin, silvery-blue scales covering the tail, and a few stray clusters of scales in the torso here and there, slightly forked caudal fin, fins are a translucent dark blue. About 12 ft long. You looked back up and were met with the merman in question staring back at you. His eyes were such a mesmerizing shade of blue, like the sky, or shining jewels. 

You wondered if it was an evolutionary trait to aid hunting. His webbed hands were pressed up against the glass with his sharp nails on display. 

Yeah, definitely dangerous. You thought, thinking back to the researcher who lost an eye.

One of the researchers called for you and when you turned back round the merman had swam to the back of the tank. You were looking forward to officially starting work.

----------------------- 

The first few days you spent observing the merman’s behaviors. It seemed like he could tell what fish had been the most recently caught because that’s what he prefers. 

You put in an order request for aquatic plants as you wanted to see if he was omnivorous however they hadn’t come in yet. Based on his behavior you would say that he’s just as curious about you as you are to him. He had never displayed aggressive behavior when you were around and he wasn’t exactly eating from your hand but you could hand the fish to him at feeding times instead of tossing it into the tank like the other researchers.

You were sitting by the tank, reviewing your notes and drawing diagrams of his outward physiology when you heard someone call your name.

“Hello?” You called out, looking up from your work, however no one was there.

“Y/N…” They called out again. You looked towards the tank and saw the merman peering over the edge, his hands were gripping the metal bars and he was looking at you curiously.

“Y/N,” He repeated…

“You can talk?!” The merman cocked his head before diving back into the tank. You raced to the top and peered over the edge. He swam back to the top and looked at you. 

“Y/N.” He can really talk.

“Yes, that’s my name, Y/N.” You said, gesturing to yourself.”Do you have a name?”

“Y/N,” he repeated once again. You sighed. Maybe he can only make parrot noises. It was impressive nonetheless.

“I am Y/N, you are…?”

“Sa..to..ru,” He said. “Satoru,” He said. His bright eyes stare back at you.

“Okay then, nice to meet you Satoru,” You smiled.

----------------------- 

Satoru picked up speaking fairly quickly, he wasn't fluent and often flubbed his sentences but he had a good grasp of language. With that addition, it became much easier to observe his personality and mannerisms. 

He had no concept of money but boy did he have expensive taste. Almost immediately after learning how to speak, he began voicing complaints and making requests. Apparently, the cod and red snapper he’s being fed aren’t good enough, and after much back and forth on what exactly he was talking about he requested bluefin tuna, Alaskan salmon, and swordfish. 

He was very playful, at least with you. He Loved to call your name… and to tell the other researchers to go away. Those were his favorite things to say.

You walked up the stairs with your lunch and lunch for Satoru, which was halibut today. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Satoru said, quickly swimming up to the surface and flashing you a sharp-tooth smile.

“Hello Satoru,” You tossed him the fish and he began eating eagerly. You applied sanitizer then wiped your hands with a wet wipe before opening your lunch to begin eating. 

“What’s that?” Satoru asked, looking back at you, he was somehow already done eating.

“This is nigiri sushi, it’s thinly sliced raw fish over rice. Wanna try some?” 

“Really?” He said, with wide eyes. You nodded, taking a piece of salmon nigiri and offering it to him. Instead of taking it, he ate it straight out of your hand in one bite. His cold lips tickled and he licked the stray grains of rice from your hand.

“So… what do you think?”

He was silent for a moment before smiling back at you. It made your heart flutter a bit but you pushed the feeling back.

“I Like it,”

“Here have some more,” you said, offering straight from the box this time.

When you went home and went to sleep that night you had a dream about Satoru, He was human. His white hair was short and fluffy, and he still had piercing blue eyes. You were lying on the beach together on the sand, and for some reason, he was kissing all over your legs, his plump lips softly made their way up your legs, and right as his face was inches away from your groin you woke up.

You woke up covered in sweat, your pajamas sticking to your skin as you stared up in the dark abyss. Your breath heaved… and it took a while before you could go back to sleep.

After that day, Satoru became even more attached to you and complained when you weren’t by his side. 

A while later the head researcher stopped by to see how things were going.

“So I hear you’ve gotten pretty close with the merman, even got him to talk,”

“Satoru, yes. He’s very interesting, he has two pairs of lungs one for the air and the other for the dissolved oxygen in the water and..” You proceeded to ramble on about what you’ve learned and his personality. “While he is a predator I haven’t been able to observe any real aggressive behavior, he’s always so sweet and curious when I’m around- oh I’m sorry I’m rambling,”

The head researcher laughed and waved his hand,” You’re all good, almost sounds like love to me.”

Your face grew hot and you laughed off what he said.”What can I say, I really love my work,”

“That’s amazing, you’ve been doing wonderful work here.” He said looking at all the data you’ve collected.

“I’m sensing a but…” You said, wringing your hands together nervously.

“I’ll get right to the point then, you don’t have any data on how or if they reproduce,”

Oh… right. You were certainly curious about it since you learned he could talk, you had been putting it off, it felt less like research and more like an invasion of his privacy.

“I’ll get on it, sir,” You nodded.

----------------------- 

You headed over to the tank with papers to talk with Satoru. As usual, when you walked up, Satoru swam right over with his usual smile.

“Hello Y/N,”

“Hello Satoru,” You said with a sigh.”So I had a few questions, but they’re a bit more personal.” You blushed thinking about it, you’d start off with the normal stuff first.

“Okay,”

“So are there others out there like you? Before you came here were you in a group?”

“A few. But I was not with a pod before being here.” He answered.

“Why weren’t you with your pod?”

“I was looking. Looking for a mate.” He said, his eyes meeting yours.

“Oh, is that what you all do? Split off to find a mate?” You asked.

“No, just me. A mate is an equal, in the pod I am the best. No equal, no mate. So I went off, to find another strong as me.”

“How long have you been looking for a mate?” Pausing from what you were writing.

He paused for a moment before answering.”Twenty-Eight moon cycles,”

That was about two years! Must get lonely, all by himself, separated from his pod, you thought. Maybe you could help him escape, you could convince them that it’s better to observe the group rather than one mercreature on its own (I mean you weren’t lying.)

“So if you could, I guess you would go home huh?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“Only if you went.” You were surprised by that answer.

“Why me?”

“It’s bad to leave mates behind,” he answered. At first, you thought he was joking but you remembered you hadn’t explained the concept yet, he was completely serious.

“Satoru, what makes you think we’re mates?” You asked, your face growing a bit hot.

“You share your nigiri with me; only mates share food, or parents and pups.”

Oh…

Oh…

OH…

No wonder he was so surprised when you offered him the Nigiri, and why he’s been so clingy.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry,”

“You don’t want to be my mate then?” He asked with a sad expression which made you feel like you were shot through the heart.

“It’s not exactly that, I’m not a mermaid, I can’t breathe underwater,”

“Mates can be human, you’ll change after the mate bond,”

“I’ll grow a tail?” you asked bewildered.

“No, gills, scales, fins, then tail”

“I’m not nearly as physically strong as you either,” You replied.

“No, but you know many things, knowing many things like fish, many things that will be good for the pod.”

While you were intrigued by the process it just seemed like too much. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

“It’s me then, you don’t like me.”

“No, no, no I do like you, I love you, Satoru, but ah-” You stopped when you caught what you said.

“...Love? What’s what?”

“It’s when others feel strongly about each other, when they really really like eachother or something. Like families or friends or a pet… or a mate…” You said swallowing nervously.

“So you love me?” He asked, his body basically pressed up against the edge of the platform.

“...yes,”

“Do you love me like family?”

“... No,” you said, shaking your head.

“Like a pet?”

“No,”

“Then do you love me like a mate?” You looked back at him and as you looked into his eyes you knew the answer.

“Yes, Satoru, I love you, I’ll be your mate.” As you said those words he had the biggest grin on his face and dived back into the water, swiftly swimming in circles and flipping out of the water. You laughed, you had never seen him this happy before.

He swam back over to where you sat and leaned over your lap, water dripping onto your legs.

“How does mating work anyways?”

“It’s easier to show than to tell, but not here, in shallow water,” He explained.

“Okay, then I guess I definitely have to break you out of here then, It wouldn’t be right to leave my mate locked up in some secret government facility.”

You waited until dark when everyone had gone aside from security here and there before you began your heist. You got one of the big carts they wheeled around all the fish they fed Satoru in and filled it with water. Then there was the painstaking process of getting him out of the tank and down the stairs. You knew you couldn't carry him when he weighed well over eight hundred pounds so you had to guide him and make sure he didn’t hurt himself as he flopped down the metal stairs.

Then you wheeled him out and into your car, however the best you could do for him was plenty of tarps and an inflatable pool to turn the back seat of your minivan into a makeshift tank of some sort, You grabbed some things from home and then drove to where you hoped no one could find you, which just so happened to be a place that looked like a mermaid grotto.

It wasn’t easy to get him from your car to the water but it was worth it to see the smile on his face.

“Y/n, dive into the water,” Satoru called; you stripped from your clothes and cannonballed into the spring. Satoru swam in circles around you; his blue fins sparkled under the moonlight. 

You laughed as he made small splashes around you. He swam closer to you and wrapped his wet arms around your waist. 

“Uhh Satoru…?”

“Didn’t you want to know how we mate?” Satoru said in a low voice, the seductive look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. His cool fingers caressed your face, pushing your loose hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you turn to fully look at him, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Great,” His lips pressed against yours, happily obliging to kiss him back. As you continued, the kiss became heated. His cold fingers slipped down your bare skin, and your back pressed against the edge of the grotto pool. 

“I can't say I'll be fully gentle but I'll make sure you're fully taken care of,” he said as his nails scratched against your skin. You hissed, and he pressed soft kisses to your neck. The mating process was kinda rough, but you liked it as well. 

“If you don’t mind me asking why is the scratching necessary?” you  do your best to look at the marks on your skin.

“Scratching is arousing, You are turned on, are you not?” he runs his sharp nail down your arm slightly.

“Yes, but I can show you a better way,” You said, guiding his hand down to your cunt. His eyes widened a bit as he felt your folds with the pads of his fingers. As he pressed against your mound of flesh, you could feel the webbing between his fingers, between that and those nails of his, you were certain there wouldn’t be any fingering for you today. 

He pressed against your clit, and you took a sharp breath. He quirked his head to the side. 

“Does that feel good?” he whispered while staring up into your eyes.

You nodded and added more. His fingers began massaging your nub in small circles. You rested your head on his shoulder and let out a little moan. 

“Bite me” Gojo whimpered and it took a second to process what he said. But you were already on his shoulder the least you could do was obliged him. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and with his thick skin was tough to mark into him. He lets out a pleased hiss as you effectively caused a small dent just off near his gills. 

“Now it's your turn. Sorry, this may hurt a bit,” he said teasingly, her lips ghosting over your skin before he sunk his teeth into your shoulder. You winced with how deep his teeth were; you were sure that they had drawn blood.

Satoru wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you out of the water onto the rocks. He gently parted your legs before leaning forward. He pressed soft, tender kisses to your inner thighs. His cold lips tickled and made your stomach do somersaults. His tongue took a precautionary lick to your pussy before lapping at your wet folds. 

A small moan escaped your lips as his lips closed around your clit. His tongue circled, flicked, and sucked out your sensitive bud. You couldn’t control the noises that were coming out of your mouth, and your legs were enclosing around Satoru’s head. He used his strong hands to hold them open, his wet palms gripping your thighs. 

Just as you were about to release all over his face, Satoru pulled away. You whined and looked up at him.

“Don’t you wanna get to the good part?” He gave you a smirk.

He slid up onto the rocks beside you and positioned himself in an off-able way. Your hand hovered in the air for a moment, and you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that Satoru sensed your confusion because he grabbed your hand and guided it to where a slit was ah, yes, his mermanussy. Your fingers slipped around and stroked the area for a moment before his long, smooth length slipped out of it, springing out from its sheath and bobbing in the air. 

Your hand warped around his member and stroked it up and down a few times. He was slightly slimy and slim-tipped, with it being more skin color. Your finger teased his tip, and his sticky precum followed in strong lines attached to your fingers. You twisted and turned your hands as you jerked him until he was amply hard.

Now that he was rock hard, you positioned yourself to be on top of him and slowly sunk down on his cock. You moaned, and Satoru hissed. 

“There's no going back now,” you said and slowly began to move your hips to meet him. He grabs your hips and moves up to suck in your skin. 

“You feel so good~” Satoru tightened his grip and started to fuck up into you. You pressed yourself on his chest to be upright in order to not be a mushed mess laying on top of him. You flattened your hands on his chest as you rode him gently, your hole clenched around him as you bounced on his long cock. Wet sounds and the lewd noise of skin slapping against skin bouncing around the grotto walls, along with the wanton moans coming from your mouth. 

The rocking of his hips meets yours as you hold back the urge to wiggle and squirm. Your walls flutter around his length, and you take him in a kiss. It was messy, passionate, and pretty uncoordinated, but neither did you care because you were caught up in the moment.

Satoru tilts your body back a bit as he ruts into you with a new determined force. You felt like you had little control at this unbalanced angle. He licks your breast and kisses your neck, and you let out whines and moans. Satoru let out a few whimpers as he got closer to climax, and you were definitely right along with him.

“Ahh, I’m gonna cum, come inside me!” you panted out, feeling like the air was getting harder to breathe.

You couldn't come back anymore, and you let yourself experience a sweet release. The walls of your cunt clench around him as he comes, and your juices leak around the base of his cock. Around the same time, Satoru groaned, his grip on you growing tighter and his nails digging into your hips, and hot ropes of cum spilled inside your pussy. Your warm walls milked him of every last drop, the translucent milky liquid leaking from your hole. 

You slowly remove him from inside you, feeling his fluid leaking out of you with a sticky slowness. 

You smile fondly as you rest against his chest. You fell asleep on his strong chest. Not much later, you woke up to a strange sensation. You had a strong urge to jump in the water like it would be more enriching than the air. You slowly and carefully slipped out of Satoru’s arms and into the water. As your head ducks under you find yourself not needing to hold your breath. You reached up and felt delicate gills on the sides of your neck.

Then scales pushed their way through your skin, and fins sprouted out along with webbing between your fingers finally, and most uncomfortably, your legs stuck themself together and overtop grew flesh and scales. Your legs and back hurt so bad like your bones were breaking and reforming. However, the pain didn’t last longer than a few moments, and when you flexed your new tail, it felt much more flexible than you imagined. It was almost like your body was a worm in a string with the way you could toggle around. 

When satoru woke up he looked over at your new form with admiration. He slipped into the water to get a better view. You looked out at the surface world one last time before taking Satoru’s hand and diving into the world below. 

“So, are you excited to see your pod after such a long time?”

“I’m excited for you to pop out some guppies,” Satoru smirked as you both swam off to your new life.

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

[hamsterclaw]

Fugitive

You're kidnapped by a desperate man and you can't see a way that this is going to end well, for either of you.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Word count: 10k

Genre: Escaped criminal, convict Yoongi

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mentions of a gun, threat of gun violence

Author note: This story is based on the romance novel Perfect by Judith McNaught. I've taken a few liberties with the plot and characters.

The coffee at this mountainside diner is good, warming your belly as you frown at the snow outside. 

All the weather reports say there’s a storm coming from the east, but it doesn’t take a trooper to know that. 

Even a city girl like you can see how the sky’s darkening, how the wind’s relentless, how the temperature is rapidly dropping.

You’ve got snow tires on, four wheel drive, emergency supplies in your trunk, but you think you won’t need them, you’re heading west and you’ve made good time on your way to visit your sister and her newborn.

Like your dad used to say, your family’s full of grit. 

You swallow your smile when you see the man standing just outside the diner looking straight at you.

Did he think you were smiling at him?

You look down hastily.

The waitress comes round with the check you signalled for, you put money on the little acrylic tray and get ready to go.

By the time you step outside, the wind’s picked up even more, snow swirling, making your eyes want to screw shut under your beanie.

You don’t hear him until he’s almost on top of you.

He’s not a lot taller than you, and he’s not particularly dressed for the weather, in denim on denim, a parka. No hat or gloves.

His hair is dark, as are his eyes, and his skin is pale, like he doesn’t get a lot of sun.

He looks vaguely familiar but you can’t really place him.

‘You have a flat,�� he says, pointing to one of your front tyres.

You look down in dismay only to see that he’s right.

Shit!

‘I can help you change it, if you’ve got a spare,’ he offers.

‘Would you?’ you ask, grateful.

‘Yeah, not a problem.’

You show him where the spare and tools are, and as he crouches by the tyre, you’re very aware of how, unlike you, he doesn’t have gloves on. 

You feel a surge of guilt.

‘Hey,’ you offer, ‘whilst you’re doing that, can I get you a hot drink or something?’

He looks up at you, hands braced on the flat.

‘I wouldn’t mind a coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.’

‘Of course,’ you say, relieved that he’s not too polite to take you up on your offer. ‘I’ll be right back.’

You hurry back into the diner to get him a coffee. As you wait you wonder if he might want a sandwich too, and impulsively, you order him a hot sandwich.

He can always say no if he doesn’t want it, you reason.

By the time you come out, he’s putting the flat in your trunk, tidying up the tools he used.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him, passing him the drink.

‘No problem,’ he says.

A little awkwardly, you hold out the wrapped sandwich. ‘I got you a sandwich too, if you want it. It’s turkey.’

He accepts with another murmured ‘thank you.’

You’re wondering if you should offer him money for his kindness when he says, hesitant, ‘I could use a lift, if you’re heading west. I’ve got a job interview I’m hoping to make it to.’

Now you’re the hesitant one. He’s shown you nothing but kindness, but he is still a total stranger.

He waits without looking at you, sipping his coffee, keeping his distance.

You think about his lack of warm clothes, and as you’re looking at him, you notice the crispness of the creases in his clothing, remnants of how they must have been folded when he bought them.

You think about his calloused palms and how he accepted the sandwich without hesitation.

‘Hey, it’s ok,’ he starts to say, and it’s that, more than anything else, that spurs you on to reply.

‘It’s fine,’ you say. ‘I’ll take you as far as I’m heading.’

***

He gets into the passenger seat, and from the sigh that passes his lips you realise that he really was as cold as you thought he might be.

You start the engine, and warm air starts to blow through your A/C vents.

You check that the GPS is still set and glance over at him. 

‘You ready?’

You’re a mile or so out of the diner, listening to the radio, when it occurs to you to ask him his name.

‘I’m Y/N,’ you say. 

‘Yoongi,’ comes the reply.

In here, away from the whistling wind, you can hear the gravel in his voice.

‘What job are you going for?’ you ask.

‘Just some construction job my friend’s lined up for me near Maisan,’ Yoongi says.

He glances in the rearview mirror. 

‘I hope you get it,’ you tell him. ‘Do you live around there?’

He seems to hesitate.

‘I don’t mean to pry,’ you say, quickly. 

To bridge the sudden silence, you say, ‘I’m going to see my sister and her new baby. She chose a good time to have him, right before a storm.’

You notice movement up ahead, a police roadblock.

Beside you, your new acquaintance sits up. 

‘Nice and easy,’ he says, and you look at him, confused, until you notice that he has a gun in his hand.

Pointed right at you.

You straighten up so quickly your neck cracks.

‘What —-‘

‘Nice and easy,’ Yoongi says again, a hardness to his voice you haven’t heard up until now. 

‘There are six shots in this gun, but I’ll only need one to hurt you,’ he continues.

Your hands tighten on the wheel, and your lips clamp together, trying to stifle the squeak of terror that threatens to slip out.

‘I just want you to know that I will hurt you if you try anything,’ Yoongi says. There’s a seriousness in his voice that makes your blood chill. ‘So nice and easy, get us past this roadblock.’

You’ve slowed automatically as you approach the uniformed policemen, your years of driving making your body do the expected things despite the way your head is reeling.

Yoongi has a gun, and he seems perfectly capable of using it on you.

The fear crystallises into a single sob before your throat closes completely. Your breathing quickens but you know you’ll need to look normal, unsuspicious, to get you and Yoongi past the police.

‘Are they looking for you?’ you ask. Your voice is shuddery, you’re trembling so hard.

In response, Yoongi jams the barrel of the gun against you, high up, against your ribs, so hard it’s like he’s impaled you.

‘Shut up and get us through this,’ he snarls.

Your lips snap together again, and you make a conscious effort to pull yourself together.

Just before you stop, Yoongi says, ‘If you try anything, I won’t just be trying to hurt you. I’ll kill you.’

His tone is low, and another shiver runs through you.

You roll down the window.

The police trooper leans in. ‘Where are you headed?’

‘We’re going to see my sister in Maisan,’ you say, grateful at least, that your voice is steady.

Beside you, Yoongi’s sitting perfectly still.

‘You’ve not picked a good time to go,’ says the trooper.

This time, it’s Yoongi who answers. ‘I did say we should wait, but my girlfriend’s been looking forward to seeing her new nephew.’

He shrugs, a picture of indulgent exasperation.

The trooper laughs along with Yoongi even as you try to make desperate eye contact with him.

‘Better carry on then, hopefully you’ll make it before the storm hits.’

Then he’s waving you off, and you have a split second of panic, a moment where you consider screaming, before Yoongi’s gun jabs into your ribs again.

Again, your body responds before you do, driving you away from your last chance to seek help.

***

Twenty miles out from the diner, Yoongi tosses your phone out of the window.

Forty miles out, he programs a different address into your GPS.

It’s another ten miles before you find your voice again.

‘You can take the car, you know, and leave me here. I can’t call anyone.’

Yoongi almost looks like he’s considering it. 

‘I can’t leave you here out in the mountains in the middle of nowhere,’ he tells you. ‘You’ll die of exposure, especially if you can’t call for help.’

‘Also,’ he adds, almost as if it’s an afterthought, ‘you know the address of where we’re going.’

‘I didn’t see it,’ you say, too quickly.

Yoongi’s silent.

Finally, he says, ‘Just keep driving.’

‘Please,’ you plead. ‘Just let me go. I won’t tell the police where you’re heading.’

Yoongi’s grasp on the gun, still in his lap, tightens.

‘You’re a fucking idiot. Why the hell would you give a ride to a strange man you’ve just met?’

You don’t have a good answer to that.

‘You changed my tyre,’ you say. ‘I thought —‘

‘I slashed your tyre,’ he says, low, cold. ‘I was hanging around outside the diner, I saw you pull up, saw you were alone.’

His admission chills you.

Tears start to spill down your cheeks when you realise what a fool you were to trust him.

‘I just wanted to help you out,’ you tell him. ‘You seemed hungry and down on your luck, and you didn’t even have any warm c-c-clothes!’

You swipe at your cheeks furiously.

‘Didn’t have any warm clothes,’ Yoongi repeats, incredulous, scornful. ‘You’re some fucking good Samaritan.’

You’re crying quietly now, despairing over your naivety.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a good long while, and neither do you.

***

By the time you reach your destination, it’s snowing so hard you can barely see six feet in front of your car. 

Snowy walls close in either side of you, buffeting you from the wind but heightening your sense of claustrophobia. 

The clearing’s upon you before you quite realise it, and you end up stopping in front of a huge structure in the woods. 

It’s more than a cabin, it looks like a proper house, from what you can make out, with a shed and a carport. 

Yoongi reaches out and takes your car keys. 

‘Wait until I come round to your side.’ 

He doesn’t point the gun at you, but you don’t need reminding. 

He gets out, walks around to your side, pulls open the door, pushes you in front of him.

You try to take note of your surroundings, landmarks, but all you can see is snow.

Your boots clomp on the concrete as you approach the front door.

Behind you, you can hear Yoongi rustling, glancing at his phone before he punches numbers into the keypad discreetly placed by the door. 

He cups a hand over the keypad, you don’t see a thing.

He pulls you in as he enters, and you’re initially just grateful to be out of the snow. 

Yoongi says, ‘Take your coat off.’ 

He makes a move as if to do it for you when you don’t react quickly enough, and you snap into action, pulling the snaps apart, unzipping hastily. 

He takes your coat, tosses it carelessly to one side, grasps your wrist, tight. 

You flinch as he tightens a cable tie around your wrist and attaches you to the steel flap of a radiator by the entrance hall of the house. 

‘I can’t trust you not to try to run,’ he tells you. ‘I won’t hurt you, but I can’t afford for you to interfere with my plans, not now.’ 

You’re barely listening at this point. 

The terror of the last few hours has drained most of your energy. 

Yoongi stands over you for a few moments, as if to make sure you aren’t going to bolt, and then he heads further into the house. 

***

Time passes, you’re disorientated by the darkness brought on by the storm outside and your own sense of disjointedness. 

It doesn’t seem like that long ago since you loaded your things into your trunk and set off from home, and yet, it seems like forever. 

Gradually, you become aware of the hardwood floor under your salopes. The entry hall you’re being held captive in gives you the impression that this is a nice house. 

Whoever had this built has money. 

The ceilings are high, the wood panelling rich and beautifully rendered.

The radiator beside you has started heating up, the steel flaps burning you whenever you let your hand move too close. 

Your snow boots have made puddles on the hardwood. 

Where the hell are you? Who owns this place? Why did Yoongi have the code for the door? 

If he has friends this rich willing to let him use their house why the hell did he need you to drive him? 

Your mind swirling with thoughts you can’t reconcile, you pull your knees into your chest and tuck your chin in, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

You fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. 

***

You wake to complete darkness and a searing pain in your hand where you’ve let it fall against the radiator. 

It all comes back to you in a flash. 

The diner. The state trooper. The house. Yoongi. 

Your hand hurts, badly, but it’s too dark to see. 

As you straighten your legs, your foot hits something that falls with a soft thud, then rolls. 

A water bottle. 

You’re suddenly aware of how dry your throat is. 

You reach for the bottle, but maddeningly, it rolls out of your reach. 

There are tears on your face but you’re not crying, not really. 

Maybe you are. 

***

When you next wake, the cold thin grey light filtering in through the windows tells you it’s morning, or early. 

You look up to see your captor standing over you. 

You look at each other wordlessly. 

Yoongi crouches next to you. 

‘Do you need the bathroom?’ he asks. 

You nod. 

He reaches down to detach you from the radiator. 

Your hand. 

You can see it clearly now, the blistered, reddened side of your palm, the thin line of blood where the cable tie’s cut into your wrist. 

You say nothing. You don’t know if you can form any words. 

You get up carefully, follow Yoongi down the hall to a small bathroom. 

‘I’ll give you five minutes,’ Yoongi says. 

You take care of business, trying not to sob at the pain in your burnt hand and wrist. 

The window to the bathroom doesn’t open, and there’s nothing that you can use to break it. 

There’s a knock at the door, you feel a surge of hysterical laughter threatening to come out. 

He’s kidnapped you, locked you to a radiator, and he’s knocking because he cares about your privacy? 

The door opens, and Yoongi comes in. 

You stare at the scissors in his hand. 

‘Your wrist,’ he says. 

You watch, detached, as he cuts the cable tie. It falls to the floor, and you instinctively raise your hand to your chest to rub at your wrist. 

Yoongi says. ‘I have food for you.’ 

He takes you down another hallway, to a huge kitchen full of windows. The early morning sun filters in, bright and blinding, adding more of a sense of unreality to the situation you now find yourself in. 

Yoongi gestures to a seat at the kitchen island, sets a plate in front of you, like he’s made you breakfast. 

You stare in disbelief at the food. 

‘The car’s coming for me in two days, I’ll let you go then,’ Yoongi tells you, like you’re making plans together. 

Like you’re just two people who know each other, discussing plans over breakfast, instead of captor and captive. 

Now you’re staring at him. 

‘You’ll let me go?’ you ask. Your voice comes out in a rasp, you have a vague recollection of trying to drink water but being unable to reach. 

Yoongi winces a little, pours out a glass of water that you gulp down. 

‘You should have told me you wanted water,’ he says. 

‘You took my phone so I couldn’t text you,’ you say, the snark coming out of your mouth surprising you. 

His brow lifts. ‘You don’t have my number anyway.’ 

‘Don’t need it,’ you snap, gulping down your refill. ‘We’re not going on a second date.’ 

Now it’s his turn to stare at you. 

‘You’re not my type anyway,’ he snaps back. ‘Eat your food.’ 

For a moment you contemplate going on a hunger strike but you suspect he wouldn’t give a shit anyway so you examine your plate. 

You fork up some eggs and chew cautiously. 

They’re good. Better than you expected. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

The food’s doing wonders for your energy levels. 

‘Why are you running from the police?’ you ask. ‘What did you do?’ 

‘I was convicted of murder,’ he tells you, cold. 

‘Did you do it?’ you ask, unimpressed. 

‘I didn’t, as a matter of fact,’ he replies, flat. 

‘Wait. Were you in prison?’ 

‘I escaped,’ he tells you. ‘With a little help from my friends.’ 

You mull this over as you finish the last of your eggs. 

‘You have friends?’ 

Yoongi gives you a look that makes your chest tighten a little. 

‘Hard to believe, isn’t it?’ he agrees. 

He takes your plate, gathers up your cutlery, turns his back to put them in the sink. 

‘Don’t even think about throwing your glass at me,’ he says, back still to you. 

Your hand stills on the counter. 

You change the subject. 

‘This is a nice house. Do your friends know they’re harbouring a fugitive from the law?’ 

‘My friends have nothing to do with anything,’ Yoongi tells you, giving you a hard look. 

He sets out a bandage and some ointment on the kitchen island in front of you. 

‘Your hand,’ he prompts impatiently, when you don’t make a move to take them. 

You’re about to reach for them when he sighs, unscrews the top of the tube, drops a dollop on your burnt palm. 

You stifle a hiss of pain as he rubs the ointment in. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Yoongi says quietly. 

He’s close to you now, so close you catch a whiff of the freshness of his shampoo. 

‘You should be sorry,’ you say. ‘I thought you were just some guy who was down on his luck who needed a break, and next thing you’re waving a gun in my face and threatening to kill me.’ 

You can feel the tears threatening to rise again, but you blink them back. 

Yoongi’s touch is gentle on your sore hand. 

‘I am sorry. Believe me, if there were any other way I would have taken it. I promise, I’ll let you go. I have no intention of hurting you.’ 

He says the words with conviction but you know you can’t believe anything he says. 

Trusting him is what got you into this in the first place. 

You let him bandage your hand. 

‘Which radiator next?’ you ask, resigned. 

‘I won’t tie you up again, but I’ll have to keep an eye on you,’ Yoongi says, surprising you. ‘There’s a den we can sit in, if you want.’ 

You don’t see that you have any better options. 

***

You start off in the furthest corner of the den from him, back to the wall, wary. 

Yoongi ignores you completely as he turns on the TV, scrolls to the news.

You glance over the books on the bookshelf along one wall, but the TV catches your attention.

‘The search continues for Min Yoongi, the disgraced former rapper who was convicted of the murder of Han Jisung three years ago.’

Your gaze snaps to Yoongi, but he’s not looking at you, attention fully on the screen as an old media clip of him rapping plays.

‘The federal police are looking into several leads, and members of the public can contact the number onscreen if they have any information as to his whereabouts.’

The next story flashes up, and Yoongi sits back. You can see the tension leaving his body.

He catches the way you’re still gaping at him.

You blink, clear your throat. 

‘So, you used to rap?’

Yoongi’s expression morphs into one of incredulity. ‘That’s your take-home from all that?’ 

You try again. ‘Too bad I don’t have my phone to call the number. Do you think there’s a reward?’

Yoongi stares at you.

‘I didn’t kill Han Jisung,’ he says. 

He refuses to be drawn into any further discussion about it, and finally, you give up and pick up one of the books from the shelf.

***

Lunch is a sombre affair, sandwiches that you eat mechanically while looking at the grey outside.

The storm’s upon you, you doubt your snow tires would be up to the challenge even if you could get your car keys off Yoongi.

There’s no visibility at all, and if the wall of ice that’s forming around the glass of the floor to ceiling windows of the house wasn’t enough to deter you, the fact that you have no idea where your parka is certainly helps put you off.

You grew up in a mountainous area like this, and you’ve got a healthy respect for the weather conditions when it's like this.

You wonder how your sister’s doing, and your new nephew, if they’ve noticed you’re missing yet.

Maybe they think you’ve stopped to seek shelter and are waiting for the storm to pass before you continue on your journey.

You wonder if they’ve put your lack of communication down to a signal failure.

You wonder if anyone will notice you’re missing.

Your thoughts drift to Seokjin, the man you’ve recently had a few dates with. 

He’s a good looking guy, outmatching you in looks if you’re being honest about what you think, but he seems to like the way you look, and to enjoy spending time with you.

You realise that Yoongi’s talking to you.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks, nodding to your half eaten sandwich.

‘I’m fine,’ you answer. You pull a face. ‘Well apart from being held captive against my will.’

Yoongi looks like he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

‘Were you really going to see your sister?’ he asks. ‘Will she notice you’re missing?’

You eye him narrowly. ‘I don’t think anyone’s sending out a search party for me just yet, if that’s what you’re asking.’

Yoongi says, unexpectedly, ‘Why not? You’re pretty, you’d catch attention on the front page of the newspapers.’

You say, incredulously, ‘I bet dozens of women go missing every single day.’

‘They probably do,’ Yoongi agrees. 

‘How did you get put in prison if you didn’t kill that guy?’ you ask, changing the subject. ‘I’m sure you could afford a good legal team.’

Yoongi takes a while to answer. 

‘I was fucking Han Jisung’s fiancee.’

You raise a sceptical brow at him. ‘And?’

‘I think his half-brother set me up.’

You mull this over.

‘So what’s the plan? You escape from prison and leave the country?’

Yoongi shrugs, but his gaze is hard. 

‘I stay on the run until I get enough evidence for a re-trial. Prove my innocence.’

‘Seems a long shot,’ you say, but you have no desire to piss him off, at least not while he’s got a gun in his possession.

‘I have influential friends who are willing to help,’ Yoongi says, simply.

You say nothing.

‘Do you know what it’s like to be put away for life for something you didn’t do?’ Yoongi asks, suddenly. ‘I’ve lost three years of my life to this, there’s no chance of parole for another 7 years.’

His voice rings with anger and frustration.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. 

You have no idea if he’s telling you the truth, but you’re convinced of one thing. He believes it. 

If he’s telling the truth, you can’t think of anything more awful.

‘Some say I brought this on myself,’ Yoongi says. 

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t blame them. I was an asshole and a womaniser.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ you retort.

Yoongi looks at you, momentarily speechless with surprise.

Then he laughs. 

‘Has no one ever taught you not to make fun of a man with a gun?’

You look at him seriously. ‘You promised you’d let me go in two days. Was that a lie?’

‘No,’ he answers. His eyes meet yours, gaze steady and unwavering. ‘I’ll keep my word.’

With him looking at you like this, you almost believe him.

***

Night’s falling, or so you think, it’s been dark all day but you get the sense that daylight’s fading fast.

Yoongi gets up, says, ‘Come on, I’m going to bed.’

‘You want a bedtime story?’ you ask, tetchy.

He just waits patiently by the entrance of the den for you to join him.

‘Any chance I could take a shower?’ you ask.

You’ve been in the same clothes for a day and a half, and you feel pretty grimy.

‘Sure,’ Yoongi says, surprising you. ‘Need clothes?’

Yoongi takes you to what looks like a pretty impressive master bedroom, with an equally luxurious looking bathroom.

He rummages in a drawer, hands you a set of grey sweats.

He says, the faintest note of embarrassment in his voice, ‘There’s no women’s clothes here.’

You accept the clothes with a murmured ‘thanks.’

Yoongi says, ‘the door doesn’t lock, but I won’t walk in on you. The window’s too high to jump from.’

You eye him.

‘I have no interest in walking through this snowstorm without a coat.’ 

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Unless you want to give me the car keys?’

Yoongi chooses not to answer, steps back so you can close the bathroom door.

You get undressed quickly, step under a shower of water so hot it feels like heaven after you’ve been cold most of the day.

There’s toiletries that you avail yourself of, and by the time you get redressed, you feel practically human again, burnt hand and sore wrist notwithstanding.

You wrap a towel around your hair, step out to see Yoongi sitting on an armchair by the bed.

His gaze flicks over you once, his expression unreadable.

‘I don’t want to tie you to another radiator,’ he says.

You wait to hear where he’s going with this.

‘I’m going to lock the bedroom door. You can share the bed with me, or there’s that couch.’

‘I’ll take the couch,’ you say. 

You get onto the couch, pull a blanket over your head, and you must be more tired that you thought, because you’re thinking of everything Yoongi’s told you, and then you’re not thinking of anything at all.

***

You wake in complete darkness, quiet save for your own breathing.

As your eyes adjust, you realise that the lump near the window is Yoongi. 

He’s looking out, facing away from you.

‘What time is it?’ you ask.

Yoongi inhales, keeps looking out.

‘Sometime after midnight,’ he says. ‘Does it matter?’

You sit up, curl your legs under you.

His profile is strangely lovely, the slope of his brow, the high bridge of his nose, his jaw.

‘What are you going to do if you manage to prove your innocence?’ you ask.

It’s a clumsy question, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind.

‘I’d like to live near a beach,’ he says. ‘Make music. Be away from people for a bit.’

You guess there’s not a whole lot of privacy in prison.

‘I have a beach hut,’ you say. ‘We used to spend summers at the seaside. When my parents died, my sister and I inherited it.’

‘Yeah?’ Yoongi asks, turning towards you.

‘Yeah. We swam a lot. Explored caves. Did some rockpooling.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Yoongi says. ‘When I was a kid I spent summers trying to earn money.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I did a lot of gigs, trying to get exposure. I had my own crew though.’ He sounds wistful. ‘We busted our asses.’

He laughs. ‘When I signed my first record deal I got a house so my crew would always have a roof over their heads.’

‘No diamond encrusted chains?’ you tease.

‘Baby, that was after I got my first platinum record,’ he shoots back.

You laugh, and after a moment, he does too.

‘You got a job?’ 

You look up at the ceiling.

‘I teach,’ you tell him. ‘Grade school. I’ve got a class of seven year olds.’

‘You do have that whole teacher vibe,’ Yoongi remarks.

You’re amused.

‘What whole teacher vibe?’

‘You know. Responsible, prepared for everything. I mean, I saw the supplies in your trunk.’

You can’t argue.

‘You’re too soft,’ Yoongi continues. He’s still turned towards you. ‘You shouldn’t have offered me a ride.’

‘Like I said,’ you reply. ‘You looked like you needed help.’

He scoffs. ‘If I were your man I’d teach you to make any man regret even thinking about messing with you.’

‘I don’t need a man to teach me that,’ you say. 

Yoongi shrugs, a rustle of his sweatshirt. 

‘All I’m saying is you should work on looking less sweet and harmless.’

You toss a couch cushion in his direction.

‘I’ll show you how to crush a trachea tomorrow if you want,’ Yoongi volunteers.

‘Can I practise on you?’ you mutter, disgruntled. 

Yoongi just laughs. 

He turns back to the window. 

It’s too dark to tell if the snow’s still falling but it doesn’t make a difference to you, because soon enough, you’re asleep again.

***

Yoongi’s quiet today, prepping breakfast with a distracted concentration that makes you wonder what’s on his mind. 

You’re fixing coffee, looking for filters. 

You pull open a drawer and freeze. 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the way Yoongi’s back stiffens. 

There’s a revolver in the drawer. The same gun Yoongi used on you that first day. 

Yoongi turns around slowly, and your eyes lock. 

He’s too far away to have any chance of getting to it before you. 

Yoongi tilts his head. 

‘It’s fully loaded,’ he says. ‘You cock the trigger to arm it. Point and shoot. It’s reliable. It doesn’t jam.’ 

You blink at him. 

‘The car keys are in my pocket. The snow’s still a little crazy but if you wait a few hours it might settle. It’s safer to go tomorrow.’ 

Thoughts swirl in your head, too much for you to process. 

Finally, you reach out, and close the drawer wordlessly. 

‘You’ll let me go tomorrow?’ you ask, wondering if you’ve just made the most stupid decision of your life. 

‘I’ll let you go tomorrow, I promise you. Even if my friend doesn’t come through.’ 

You can’t look at him. 

You can hear him approaching, but instead of heading for the drawer, he heads for you. 

‘Thank you,’ he says. 

You look over. 

His eyes are serious. ‘It’s been a while since anyone who didn’t know me before trusted me.’ 

‘Like you said, I’m dumb and soft,’ you reply. There’s a wobble in your voice that belies the snarky tone you were going for. 

His hand lands on your shoulder. It’s gentle. 

‘You’d be eaten alive where I come from,’ he agrees, when you look his way again. ‘But that’s never going to happen, if I have anything to do with it.’ 

He squeezes your shoulder, reassuring. ‘Forget the coffee. I’ll make it. Go and eat.’ 

***

The unfamiliar sound from overhead is making the wineglasses rattle. 

You glance at Yoongi. 

He’s quicker than you, mouth set in a straight line, heading for the window in the lounge. 

‘What is it?’ you ask, but a moment later, you know. 

It’s a chopper, flying directly overhead. 

Yoongi turns to you. 

‘If that’s the police, stay inside, hands up, away from the windows whilst I turn myself in.’ 

You’re staring at him, again feeling like you’re three steps behind. 

‘It’s the way that it’s safest for you,’ he says, patient. ‘They’ll want you to come in for questioning once they take me in. Just tell the truth, don’t try to hide anything.’ 

Your throat feels like it’s filled with cotton, your heart’s pounding in your ears. 

‘They won’t hurt you, will they?’ 

‘There are other ways to hurt a man than shooting him on sight,’ Yoongi replies. The bitterness is back in his voice again. 

There’s a truth to his words you can’t deny. 

Overhead, the noise intensifies, until finally, it starts fading away. 

You don’t know if it’s just wishful thinking at first, but eventually it becomes clear that the chopper’s becoming more distant. 

Yoongi hasn’t moved from his spot by the window. 

‘They’re not here for you,’ you say, unnecessary, but the silence is so loaded you have to fill it with something, anything. 

‘Not this time,’ Yoongi agrees. 

***

Around mid-day, Yoongi switches on the news in the den. 

You don’t have to wait long for an update. 

‘The search for convicted murderer Min Yoongi intensifies. CCTV footage from a mountainside diner near east of Maisan suggests that he was aided in his journey by an unidentified female driving a 2004 Grand Cherokee Jeep.’ 

You watch, your heart in your stomach as grainy footage of Yoongi getting into your car is played. 

The clip is less than 10 seconds, and your face is barely visible, but it’s definitely you. 

The same information about how to get in touch with the police flashes up, but you’re beyond listening. 

You get up shakily, rush to the bathroom, and throw up the partially digested remains of your breakfast. 

By the time you emerge from the bathroom, Yoongi’s waiting outside. 

‘Are you ok?’ he asks. He’s holding out a glass of water that you accept automatically. 

‘Yeah,’ you say. You take a big gulp, swipe at your face. ‘Am I in trouble, Yoongi?’ 

‘You’ll have to make a statement when you get to your sister’s,’ Yoongi tells you. ‘Tell them I forced you at gunpoint.’ 

You think of the gun you had the opportunity to take this morning. 

‘I offered you a ride voluntarily,’ you say. 

‘I don’t give a fuck,’ Yoongi says, harshly. He steps forward. ‘And they won’t give a fuck, either. This won’t affect me, I’m already a convicted murderer. But it’ll affect you if they think you helped me.’ 

He slams his open hand against the wall next to him, startling you. 

‘You need to wise up. I don’t care if you throw me under the bus, and it won’t make a difference to the charges against me. But this could affect your future, so you need to do whatever it takes to make sure you come away clean from this.’ 

What he’s saying makes sense, but he doesn’t know you. 

‘I promised them,’ you burst out. 

Yoongi stops dead. ‘What?’ 

‘I was adopted, when I was eight,’ you say. The words are coming out in a rush now, garbled, and you’re not sure if you can make him understand but you need to say it all. 

‘I promised my adoptive parents I’d never lie again. I was some dumb kid when they adopted me, I’d been in and out of foster homes. I’d developed a thing for taking things I wanted.’ 

Stealing, your inner voice says, accurately. 

‘And when my parents adopted me, I promised them I’d never lie again.’ 

Yoongi’s staring at you now, incredulous. 

‘I’ll tell the police the truth,’ you tell him. ‘But I’m not going to ‘throw you under the bus’.’ 

Yoongi lets out a long breath. ‘Fucking hell.’ 

He shakes his head. ‘I wish I’d never got in your car.’ 

You kind of wish the same thing. 

***

Yoongi’s cracked open a couple of beers with your dinner. 

‘Be careful when you’re crossing the stream tomorrow – the bridge is hard to see at the best of times, and I don’t think the snow’s made it any easier.’ 

‘Yes, dad,’ you say, rolling your eyes. 

You’d listened the first time he said it, but he’s repeated himself a few times now. 

He’s acting like he’s more worried about you getting to your sister safely than himself evading the entire manhunt that’s looking for him. 

‘I did survive an entire adulthood without you, you know,’ you say, teasing. 

He ignores you. 

‘There’s an SOS box two miles west when you get to the main road —’ 

‘Yes, I know how that works,’ you say, cutting him off. 

‘And if any man sends you dick pics you should block him right off the bat,’ Yoongi finishes. 

You stop, processing his words, then realise he’s joking. 

Your laughter makes the frown line between his brows disappear. 

‘And you don’t owe any man anything even if he makes you come,’ Yoongi continues. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Should I be writing this wisdom down?’ 

Yoongi frowns. ‘I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.’ 

‘Show me how to crush a trachea,’ you suggest. 

Yoongi swigs his beer. 

‘Yeah, good idea.’ 

He gets up, pushes his sleeves back. 

You catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his upper arm. 

‘If any asshole tries anything with you, you should go for all his weak spots.’ 

He points to his own neck, the hollow between his collarbones. ‘Jab them right here, elbow up into his nose, knee into his balls. Then, fucking run.’ 

He holds out his hands. ‘Come on, try me.’ 

You look at him uncertainly. ‘You want me to hit you?’ 

Yoongi says, patient, ‘Hit me now so when you hit the next asshole you’ll know how to do it right.’ 

‘Who are all these assholes that I’m meeting?’ you ask, but you comply anyway. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes as you jab your fingers into his neck. 

‘Harder,’ he says, grabbing your hand. 

‘I don’t want to hurt you —’ 

‘Hit me as hard as I shoved that gun into your ribs,’ Yoongi says. 

The memory makes you wince, and you redouble your efforts with the next jab. 

When he coughs and splutters, you jerk your elbow up, straight into his nose. 

He’s doubled over now, but there’s one last move he’s asked you to do. 

You knee him in the balls, and he grabs your thigh at the last second so hold off the blow. 

You wrench his hand off and take two steps back. 

‘Fuck,’ Yoongi swears. 

He folds over onto the kitchen floor, still coughing, eyes watering. 

‘You’re supposed to run now,’ he wheezes out. 

‘Do you — do you want some water or something?’ you offer. 

He shakes his head. ‘I think you’re good. You’re pretty damn quick.’ 

‘Sorr—’ 

Yoongi fixes you with a glare. ‘Don’t even think about apologising,’ he scolds. ‘You fuck the asshole up, and then you run. You did it perfectly.’ 

‘Can I practice it again?’ you ask, sweetly. 

Yoongi says, ‘Yeah —’ 

It takes him a moment to realise you’re joking. 

***

Yoongi steps out of the shower, fully dressed, his hair still wet, making little trails of wet course down the neck of his sweatshirt. 

You’re already on the couch, covered in a fluffy duvet. 

‘You can take the bed if you want,’ he offers. ‘I’ll take the couch.’ 

‘I’m fine,’ you tell him. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, towel drying his hair. 

You don’t realise you’re staring at him until he asks, voice dry, ‘Something on my face?’ 

‘Nothing,’ you answer, startled. ‘You look good clean.’ 

His laughter is deep, gravelly. ‘I’d have taken a shower earlier if I’d known you preferred me clean.’ 

‘You should get clean for yourself,’ you answer, primly, but your lips are curving in a smile anyway. 

‘Your hair looks pretty like this,’ he says. 

You tug at a lock of hair, self-conscious. 

‘I’m surprised you’re not better at handling compliments,’ Yoongi continues. He’s looking at you now, teasing in his voice. ‘Given how pretty you are.’ 

You bury your face in your duvet. 

‘Stop teasing me,’ you say, muffled. 

He seems to hear you just fine. 

‘I’m not teasing,’ he says. ‘I’m just telling you what I think.’ 

‘Just turn the lights off,’ you grumble. 

Yoongi laughs again. ‘You’re not the first woman to tell me to shut up, to be fair.’ 

He gets up, turns the lights out. 

***

You wake in the middle of the night to Yoongi groaning, tossing and turning in bed. 

‘Yoongi?’ you call, sitting up to look at him. 

He doesn’t answer, but his groaning intensifies. 

You get up and pad across the room to him. 

He’s drenched in sweat, thrashing in the sheets, holding out his hands. 

He’s having a nightmare. 

‘Hey,’ you say, grasping his hand. 

He sits up abruptly, looking around in the dark, bewildered, disoriented. 

You don’t have to think about it. 

You pull him in a hug, wrapping your arms tight around him. ‘You’re fine. It was a nightmare.’ 

You don’t think he’s really listening, but he holds you back. 

His heart’s thumping so hard you can feel it under your arm. 

‘You’re fine,’ you tell him again. 

Eventually his grip loosens, and he pulls back a little. 

‘That was some bad dream,’ you say, breathless from how tightly he’s been holding you. 

He doesn’t answer, and you realise he’s staring at your lips. 

His kiss takes you by surprise, but you don’t pull away. 

His lips are soft and warm. When he licks into your mouth you can’t help the whine that falls from your lips. 

Your hand fists in the material of his sweatshirt as he kisses you again and again, pulling you into a haze of pleasure so deep it takes you a moment to realise he’s stopped, his hand on your side, on your bare skin, under your top. 

He says your name. 

‘Do you want this?’ he asks. ‘We don’t have to do this if it’s not what you want.’ 

‘This?’ you ask. ‘You mean us kissing like this?’ 

You run your hand along his chest, stopping when you get to the waistband of his sweats. 

‘You mean touching each other like this?’ 

Your hand delves lower, and he lets out a low groan as you wrap your fingers around his hardness. 

‘Like this?’ 

‘I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,’ Yoongi says, his hand closing over yours. 

‘I want to do this with you,’ you tell him. 

He groans again, pulls you fully onto the bed, helps you tug your sweatshirt over your head. 

His warm hands slide up from your waist, making slow passes over your sides, and by the time he cups your breasts, your nipples are fully hard. 

‘Don’t tease, Yoongi,’ you say, trying not to moan as he rolls a nipple under his thumb. 

‘Not teasing,’ he says, voice low, thick. ‘I just — fuck, you’re so pretty–’ 

He dips his head, and at the first flick of his tongue against the tip of your breast, you moan. 

‘Yoongi,’ you plead. 

‘I’ve got it,’ he tells you, lifting off your breast. ‘I’ve got you.’ 

Yoongi mouths at your breasts until your hips are writhing under him. 

‘Please, please,’ you plead. 

He tugs at your sweatpants, and when you raise your hips to help him get them off, he leans down and presses a warm kiss to the bare skin over your hipbone. 

‘Wanna taste you,’ he tells you. 

He pushes your thighs apart, stops with his face over your core for a split second, breathing you in. 

Then he kisses you, open-mouthed, tongue delving into your cunt like he’s starving for you. 

Your moan changes into a cry of pleasure as he licks at you, nose nudging your clit. 

You reach out for something to grab, fisting the sheets, and Yoongi’s hand grips the flesh of your thigh, firm. 

‘Shit,’ he says, ‘ you’re so wet you’re gonna make me come.’ 

The idea of him coming before he gets inside you could make you cry. 

‘Get inside, Yoongi,’ you moan. 

‘Not gonna last, not with you like this,’ Yoongi tells you. He strokes between your legs, presses his thumb in firm strokes over your clit, licks into your cunt again, and you cry his name as you come. 

‘Fuck, that’s my good girl,’ Yoongi grunts. ‘Can you take me now?’ 

He slides his cock into you, hard, thick, whilst you’re still pulsing from your orgasm, and you keen with the pleasure of it. 

He’s breathless, head thrown back, eyes shut as he moves, fucking you deep. 

You kiss along his bared throat, and he swears. ‘Fuck, baby, stop – I can’t —’ 

He pulls out suddenly, and a moment later you feel the warmth of his cum spurting on your belly. 

‘C’mere,’ he says, pulling you close, kissing you deep. ‘Stay.’ 

***

You wait on the porch whilst Yoongi drives your car out of the carport. He pulls up in front of the porch, gets out. 

‘Remember what you have to do?’ Yoongi asks. 

‘Yeah,’ you say. 

You’ve talked about it so much you don’t think you can bear to go over it again. 

‘Drive safe, ok?’ Yoongi says. He’s looking at you, intently. ‘And thank you, for everything.’ 

‘Good luck with being exonerated,’ you say. 

It sounds stupid, you sound stupid, but you don’t know what else to say. 

Yoongi walks you over to your car, waits until your seatbelt’s buckled. 

‘I’ll see you, Yoongi,’ you say. 

‘Take this,’ he says. 

You look at the phone number he’s got scribbled down on a scrap of paper. 

‘It’s a burner phone. I can’t check it all the time but do you think you could —’ 

He breaks off mid-sentence, then pushes on. ‘Do you think you could text me when you get to your sister’s? I just want to know you’re safe.’ 

‘Sure,’ you say. You slide the scrap of paper into the pocket of your salopes, zip it up. 

‘Good,’ Yoongi says. 

You reach out, tug the collar of his parka. 

His kiss is as good a way to say goodbye as any, you think. 

Yoongi closes the door, waits on the porch as you drive away. 

He gets smaller and smaller in the distance, and eventually, you can’t see him at all. 

***

It’s been nearly a month since you left Yoongi at the house. 

You’d pulled up at your sister’s house to find out she’d just filed a missing persons report on you. 

You’d had an emotional reunion with your sister, an equally emotional introduction to your new baby nephew, and one meal and one hot shower later, you’d found yourself at the police station, being questioned by a couple of detectives who’d regarded you with suspicion so strong it was a short step from open accusation. 

You’d been questioned for hours but had eventually been allowed home. You’d been truthful, as you’d told Yoongi you would be, apart from one thing. 

It was only later, when you were on your bed in your sister’s spare room, that you’d picked up your phone and scrolled to the name you’d saved Yoongi’s number under. 

You’d typed out a text, two words, unincriminating, you’d thought. 

I’m safe. 

The next morning, there was a text back, similar to yours in brevity.

I’m glad. 

You’d refrained from texting again, or calling, not wishing to put Yoongi at risk in case anyone looked into your phone records. 

You’d been called in again for questioning on two separate occasions after the initial interview, once by people who’d introduced themselves as federal agents. 

You’d thought that was the end of it until the media got hold of your identity. 

There was a week or so of reporters stopping you outside your house, waiting for you in the school car park, until eventually something more newsworthy came along. 

You’d been photographed more times in that week than you’d even been in your life. 

You’ve taken to watching the evening news every night, but as time stretches on and Min Yoongi hasn’t been found, he’s been dropping down the list of top stories, barely scraping a mention. 

You’re glad. 

You hope he’s closer to getting what he wished for. 

***

‘Y/N,’ says Bora, your head of department. ‘Mr Lee wants to see you.’ 

You look up from your grading, a little surprised. ‘Did he say what it was about?’ 

‘Nope, just that he’s free now.’ 

You pocket your phone, straighten your ID badge and get up. 

Mr Lee is the school principal, and you’d organised a meeting with him when the media frenzy over your involvement with Min Yoongi was at its peak, but you’ve not seen him since. 

Mrs Choi, his PA, waves you in. 

‘Mr Lee,’ you say in greeting. ‘Did you want to see me?’ 

‘Yes, please come in and have a seat,’ Mr Lee says. 

He’s a serious man in his mid forties, and as far as principals go, you know he’s got a good reputation. 

‘There’s been a complaint put in about you,’ Mr Lee says, sparing you any preamble. 

Your stomach drops. 

‘What about?’ you ask. 

‘I know the media furore has died off over Min Yoongi, but the PTA has fielded a number of concerns raised by worried parents over your involvement in the case.’ 

You’re taken aback. ‘A number of concerns? It’s not just one —’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Mr Lee, and to his credit, he does seem genuinely upset. ‘I’m going to have to ask if you can take a few weeks off.’ 

‘Off?’ you ask, worried. 

‘It’s not a suspension,’ Mr Lee says, somehow giving the impression that a suspension is exactly what it is. ‘You’ll be paid, and at the end of four weeks we’ll meet again to discuss what your future is at this school.’ 

You’re trying to make sense of this. ‘My future at this school?’ 

Mr Lee gets up, moves to take the seat next to you. ‘I’m hoping that having you off teaching for a month will give enough time for these parents to realise that you’re not a bad influence on their kids.’ 

‘And if they don’t?’ you ask. 

‘I’m hoping they will.’ 

You swallow, and to your horror, tears prick the back of your eyelids. 

You blink them back. 

‘Should I look for another job, Mr Lee?’ 

‘It doesn’t hurt to keep your options open,’ Mr Lee says gently. 

You suppose that’s that. 

***

You wake to a dozen missed calls and texts from your sister. 

You blink blearily at your phone and swipe to answer. 

‘Yeah?’ you grunt. ‘Is everything ok?’ 

‘It’s Min Yoongi,’ your sister says. ‘He’s all over the news.’ 

You sit up abruptly. ‘Is he ok?’ 

Your sister, who’s heard all about your time with Yoongi, barring the details of your one-night stand, laughs. 

‘He’s more than ok. Get online, sis. There’s a press statement you might want to watch.’ 

You’re still a little drowsy, but by the time you’ve got your laptop open and made yourself coffee, you’re wide awake. 

Your phone rings again whilst you’re reading about how new evidence and a new witness was brought forward, resulting in a swift retrial. 

Distractedly, you swipe to answer. 

His voice makes you stop in your tracks. 

It’s gravelly, low, with the distinct mix of sardonic and soft that brings you back to the house in the woods, over a month ago now. 

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘How’re you keeping?’ 

You close your eyes, suck in a breath. 

‘Jeez, you telemarketers are getting a little personal, aren’t you?’ you ask. 

His laughter makes you feel warm inside. 

‘I just wondered if you wanted to go get dinner with me sometime.’ 

‘Depends,’ you answer. ‘Are we going to have to avoid the police?’ 

‘Always,’ he says, making you smile. ‘But I’m a free man now, I guess you haven’t heard.’ 

‘Your friends came through, huh?’ 

‘All of them,’ he says, the warmth in his voice palpable even through the line. ‘Including you.’ 

***

You’re a little nervous as you wait for Yoongi at the restaurant he picked. It’s a little out of the way for you, but at least it’s not snowing. 

He’s dressed in black, a cashmere sweater that sets off the glow in his skin, his hair styled back. 

The rings in his fingers, the earrings in his ears gleam in the golden light. 

He’s so beautiful you can’t quite believe he’s real.

Yet it’s him who stops in front of you, gaze flickering over you with a flattering intensity. 

‘How can you be even prettier than I remember?’ he asks, tilting his head. 

‘Guess you have a bad memory,’ you say. You’re smiling so hard your cheeks are hurting, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind. 

‘I’ve thought about you a lot,’ he says. 

‘Yeah?’ 

Yoongi pulls out your chair for you. 

‘Yeah. I saw the footage of those reporters hounding you.’ 

‘They got bored after a while,’ you tell him. 

‘I’m glad you’re all right,’ Yoongi says. 

Over dinner he tells you about how the retrial resulted in all charges against him being overturned, how he’s been back home resting. 

‘Been to the beach yet?’ you ask. 

Yoongi looks at you over his wine glass. ‘You inviting me? You’re the one with a beach hut.’ 

‘We can go,’ you say. ‘I’ve been informally suspended from my job.’ 

This is news to him. 

‘Is it to do with me?’ he asks quietly. 

You shrug. ‘I’m hoping it’ll die down, especially since everyone knows you’re an innocent man now.’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. 

‘Don’t worry about it,’ you tell him. 

He frowns a little, but lets the subject slide.

After dinner he walks you to your car. 

‘Can I take you out again?’ he asks. 

‘I’d like that,’ you tell him. 

He leans close, brushes a kiss against your cheek that sends a thrill all the way to your toes. 

‘I live about a half hour drive from here,’ you tell him, when he pulls away. 

‘Maybe I can drive us this time,’ he says. 

***

Yoongi slips his hand into yours as he walks up the front driveway to your house with you. You look over at him in surprise. 

‘What?’ he teases. ‘Don’t you want to hold my hand?’ 

You stick your key in the lock, push open your front door. 

‘Baby, I want to hold more than that,’ you tell him. 

Yoongi’s eyes darken, and he lets you push him against the door. 

He’s already leaning down, lips seeking yours. He kisses you hungrily, his large hand slipping behind your neck to deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth. 

‘I’ve fucking missed you,’ he murmurs. ‘Shit, I’m so hard it’s embarrassing.’ 

‘Been deprived, huh?’ you tease, breathlessly. 

‘Nah. Just you.’ 

He kisses a fiery path down your neck, into the hollow between your collarbones. 

His hands slide down into the small of your back, cup your ass to pull you against him. 

You can feel the ridge of his cock against your belly, and you roll your hips, trying to get closer. 

‘Pull these down,’ Yoongi says, thumb looped in the band of your lacy panties. 

They’re stuck to you, the wetness between your legs trails a path down your bare thighs that Yoongi’s only too happy to lick off. 

‘I wanted to wait,’ he tells you, lifting the skirt of your dress, unzipping his trousers. 

‘Wait next time,’ you tell him. ‘Want you now.’ 

‘You’ve got me,’ he tells you. 

There’s the rustle of foil, the snick of elastic, then Yoongi’s parting your legs, sliding inside you with a groan deep in his chest. 

Just like before, he fills you perfectly.

Yoongi kisses you again, slow though you can feel his heart thudding wildly in his chest. 

‘Feels so good, every time,’ he tells you. 

He starts to move then, doesn’t stop when you part your thighs to take him deeper, doesn’t stop when you cross your ankles behind his back and cry his name, doesn’t stop until you’re panting, sticky with your release, clutching him tight. 

It’s only then that his thrusts start to become erratic, speeding up then slowing as he reaches his peak. He comes with a shout of your name, buried deep inside you, hips still moving like he, too, can’t get enough. 

***

When you wake in the morning, it’s with Yoongi’s finger tracing a lazy path down your spine, his fingertip warm on your bare skin.

‘More, Yoongi?’ you ask, sleepy.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, you can hear the rumble in his chest as he suppresses a laugh.

‘Tapping out on me so soon, my love?’ he asks.

After the first time when you hadn’t made it to your bed, you’d fucked three more times before you’d finally collapsed in a tangled heap.

You’d woken once, to see him flat on his back, looking out the window, fingers intertwined with yours. 

‘Can’t sleep?’ you’d asked. 

He’d turned to you, pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘Just thinking how lucky I am. I’d thought being wrongly imprisoned was the worst thing that had happened to me. And here I am.’ 

‘Here you are, you lucky sonofabitch,’ you’d laughed, squealing as he’d pinned your hands to the bed and half-heartedly climbed on top of you again. 

‘I am lucky,’ he’d said, his free hand sliding under your ass, squeezing. You’d have fucked him again if he’d wanted, despite the soreness between your legs, but he’d wrapped you in his arms instead. ‘Sleep, baby.’ 

So you had. 

Now your phone rings, distracting you from Yoongi’s wandering hands, just about. 

‘Shit, it’s Mr Lee,’ you say, sitting up straight. 

Yoongi cocks a brow at you as you take the call. 

‘Y/N, I wanted to let you know that the school board have voted to have you back taking your regular classes,  at your earliest convenience. If you’ll have us.’ 

You frown. ‘I hadn’t realised there was a vote?’ 

‘An emergency meeting was convened last night,’ Mr Lee says. ‘You don’t have to let me know now, but we’d love to have you back.’ 

You hang up, thoroughly confused. 

‘I guess I’m not informally suspended any more,’ you tell Yoongi. 

‘For a new gym with a fully functional basketball court, and a grant for gym equipment, they’d better be giving you a raise too,’ drawls Yoongi. 

‘You did this?’ 

‘What? You thought I was some deadbeat who held you at gunpoint and wasn’t going to repay everything you did for me?’ 

‘I never thought you were a deadbeat,’ you say. 

‘I know,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘You’re an idiot.’ 

You swat at him, outraged. 

‘You’re my idiot,’ Yoongi says, deflecting your blows easily. ‘And I’m going to make sure no one takes advantage of you ever again.’ 

He hesitates. ‘If — if you’ll have me.’ 

You pretend to think about it. ‘Well, you’re not perfect,’ you say, ‘but I guess you’ll do.’ 

©hamsterclaw 2023

[madsrandomfandomfixations]

You know what I would have wanted to see in civil war in the fight between Peter and Steve. Peter quoting Steve's PSAs to him just to fuck with him and throw him off.

Peter:(after stealing Steve's shield)

Peter:(poses like captain America)

Peter:(in an imitation of steves voice) so... you became a wanted fugitive.

Steve: (goes still and pales)

Peter:You screwed up.

Peter: You know what you did was wrong.

Peter:The question is, how are you gonna make things right?

Peter: Maybe you were trying to be cool.

Peter:But take it from a guy who's been suffering through your PSAs... the only way to really be cool is to follow the rules.

Steve: HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THOSE?!?!

Steve: THEY STILL PLAY THOSE?!?!

The other avengers:( laughing)The what?!?

Peter: oh you know...the rappin with cap PSAs

Peter:....yeah they still make us sit through those

Peter: the most grueling torture I have ever experienced

Peter: congrats not only are you a fugitive but also Gen z's most dispised avenger

Peter: yeah....you traumatized a whole generation

Sam:Oh, we are never letting you live this down

[dvchvnde]

days are getting shorter. there's ice forming on the bay. the sky is a strange, steel-blue with muted streaks of pink, and orange, and purple. a morose pastiche of autumn's downfall made by a child as they smear crushed bluebonnets across a watercolour canvas of bruised, over-ripened peaches melting into the horizon. a chill in the air. the smell of moose chili on the stove.

i want something full of empty spaces for that weird, blue-orange cusp of winter. the fistsized ache of loneliness weeping off the pages, and falling into the hardened muskeg below.

maybe Price washes up on the shores of your isolated hamlet. why he's there, what he's doing, is as much of a mystery as he is. layered deep in secrecy. but he's the odd man out here—someone who doesn't belong.

(but it's okay, because you don't really feel like you belong, either.)

it's all happenstance, really. he rolls into town with his broad shoulders and gruff, curt words; a harsh, uncrossble distance etched in pale blue. but he isn't the only one who burns hot, and you match his fire with your own.

in that wild, untameable blaze, you find something you've been missing, like a steady trickle, dribbling down like sticky sap into a metal pail. childhood nostalgia of dipping a stick into the bucket, and rolling it over snow. maple taffy. sweet and comforting. a scarf that smells of fresh wool.

(maybe he does, too.)

but his stay comes with an expiration date.

you have to remind yourself not to forget that.

it's just easier said than done when all the pieces he gives you are exactly what you've been looking for this whole time.

OR: angst. secrets. culture-shock. hunting. this might end up as a bear-spirit/shifter John Price fic but i really love the idea of human!John Price running from his past and into the arms of NAPs officer Reader who puts the pieces together (murder mystery, mayhaps), and has to grapple with your own sense of morality—turn Price in to the corrupt cops, or hide a fugitive in your home. very fargo-noir.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

"Run, pretty girl, run" Chapter 1

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

It started out like any other regular Wednesday.  Bucky walked toward the training room but made a quick pit stop at the main offices on the ground floor.  He was greeted with quick hellos and tight smiles as he marched to his destination, two cups of coffee in his hands.  He didn’t feel like he was being off putting, but then again he was an Avenger, and Avengers didn’t usually come through the logistical offices.  He was also the ex-Winter Soldier, so it wasn’t too surprising.  He made a sharp left turn and plastered on his flirtatious smile.  He knocked on the door around the corner.  

“G’morning pretty girl,” Bucky smirked as he walked in.

Y/N turned her attention from her computer to him, a wide smile on her face.  “Good morning, hot stuff,” she giggled.  His smile widened as he approached the desk and reached one of the cups out to her.  Her eyes widened gleefully as she made grabby hands for the cup.  “Oh my god, my savior,” she whispered.

Bucky laughed as he plopped down on the chair in front of her desk.  “I take my thanks in hugs and more long, exaggerated praises about how hot I am.”

As Y/N took a long sip she rolled her eyes and gave him an unimpressed look.  “I don’t need to give you a bigger head than you already have,” she murmured.  “But thank you.  I’ll give you a very pregnant hug before you leave.”

Bucky nodded and took a look at her belly.  “Jesus, you just get bigger by the day.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she sighed, looking down and rubbing it gently.  “I need this baby out, like, yesterday.”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel bad for his ex-partner.  Y/N had been paired up with him for missions as a test to see how he worked with others as he reintegrated into working under the Avengers.  They had gotten along from the start.  Bucky had a hard time opening up to people, but Y/N was kind while also taking nobody’s shit, so she was able to be a friend while also putting him in his place, which he enjoyed.  So many people were afraid of him, but she had shown no worry or fear from the moment she met him.  They had become fast friends, and if Bucky was perfectly honest with himself, he’d been falling for her, but she had been dating her boyfriend of three years, Tim.  That all changed when one day on a mission she had suddenly gone pale, ran away and thrown up profusely.  She was pregnant, and Tim disappeared.  Bucky was furious.  Y/N was determined to do right by this baby, no matter who its father was, deciding to keep it and transferring over to be a payroll specialist.  Bucky was ready and willing to help however and whenever she needed, going with her when he could to appointments and trying to make her comfortable when they hung out outside of work.  Her due date was in a week.  

“Soon, pretty girl, soon,” he smiled fondly at her.  He leaned forward.  “And I’m being so perfectly serious that if you go into labor and don’t immediately call me I will go DEFCON one on your ass,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She narrowed her eyes back at him and slightly leaned forward.  “I wish you would,” she sneered.  “Then I’d have to show you what Natasha taught me.”

They stared each other down for another moment before they both cracked smiles and started laughing.  He sat back and put his hands up in surrender.  “Alright, Mamas, I got it,” he chuckled.  He looked at the clock on her wall and sighed.  “I guess I better get going.  But hey, dinner tonight?  At 6?” he said, standing from the chair.

“Only if you’re cooking,” Y/N said, also standing up, although a little slowly and awkwardly with her large belly.  “Now come claim my thanks,” she smirked as she opened her arms to him.

Bucky snickered and rounded the desk, stepping into her outstretched arms and rubbing her back.  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before pulling away, then stooped down so he was eye level with her belly.  “And you, sir,” he spoke to her belly, making her laugh, “don’t give your mama so much grief.  Chill out,” he said before standing straight.  “I’ll see you later, pretty girl,” he winked at her before grabbing his coffee and turning to leave.

“Don’t give them too much sass!” Y/N called out to him.

“No promises!” he chimed back.

***

A few hours later as Bucky was training the new recruits Yelena approached him in the gym.  “Barnes,” she greeted him stiffly, standing next to him.

“Belova,” he greeted her back, watching the recruits.  “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Бегать,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

Bucky stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing and his crossed arms tensing.  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  Yelena looked normal to the everyday person, but he could see the panic in her eyes and the tightness around her mouth.  He minutely nodded and focused around the room, looking for exit points and an escape route.  

“Подтвердить,” he whispered back to her.  Yelena nodded and walked away slowly.  Bucky waited for her to leave the gym.  His mind was racing as he came up with a plan.  “Alright, now close quarters combatives!  Chokeholds!” he yelled out and the recruits all changed positions with their partners, moving into the next exercise.  As they continued he slowly took steps around them like he was analyzing their movements, but as soon as he reached the other side of the gym he slipped out the door and moved quickly down the hallway.  He was able to make it to his room and grab his to-go bag, double checking it for his guns, knives, money, passports and alternate identifications before shrugging on his jacket and hat.

As he made his way down the hall he suddenly stopped.  Y/N.  He swore under his breath.  Surely she wasn’t a part of this…  He stopped by her room just down the hall from his, searching her room momentarily before finding her to-go bag, grabbing a couple more things she would need for her pregnancy and shoving them in before walking briskly to the stairs.  He made it down to the logistical offices again, texting Y/N to meet him by the bathrooms next to them.  She came out of the office looking confused and walked into the women’s restroom.  Bucky followed her in and locked the door behind them and turned to her sharply.  He approached her fast and she backed up slightly at the look on his face.

“What’s going on, Buck?” she asked, looking more surprised than scared.

Bucky watched her carefully.  “Бегать,” he whispered.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her brow furrowing.  “Подтвердить,” she whispered back.  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  She knew, thank God.  He pulled her bag off his shoulder and gave it to her.  “It’s been 12 minutes.”

Y/N swore before taking the bag and starting to strip out of her corporate attire.  Bucky turned to give her privacy and also to check the bathroom.  A few minutes later she was changed, throwing her work clothes into the bag.  She pulled her phone out and gave it to Bucky.  He promptly smashed it in his vibranium hand, then smashed his own before throwing them away in the trash.  

“15 minutes,” she said, putting her bag on her arm.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said lowly.  He took her arm in his like they were just going on holiday and unlocked the bathroom door.  They stepped out and walked toward the front door.  As they approached Bucky turned to Y/N.  “Are you excited for your last bit of freedom before the baby comes?” he asked jovially, wearing a smile.

Y/N smiled up at him.  “And last bit of sleep for the rest of my life,” she replied.  They laughed together as they walked out.  As soon as they were out of earshot they kept the smiles but moved a little faster towards Y/N’s car, since Bucky’s bike wouldn’t work for them both, especially with Y/N being pregnant.  He could feel her shaking next to him and he patted her hand on his arm before she gave him the keys.  They threw their bags in the backseat and Bucky slid in as Y/N buckled herself in.  Y/N was about to speak but Bucky held up a finger.  He pulled out a small device and attached it to her car’s radio then pushed the button at the end of it.  A small electrical pulse swept through the car, a faint sizzling being heard before he turned the car on and drove out of the facility parking lot.  They didn’t speak again for another ten miles until Bucky sighed heavily.

“I think we’re okay, for now,” he said, his eyes flying around.  

“Was that for tracking devices?” Y/N asked, pointing at the device.

“Yes,” Bucky said.  “They try to put trackers on all employees' vehicles.  Found one on my bike a few weeks ago while I was tuning it up.”

Y/N swore again.  “Do we know anything?”

“No,” Bucky replied, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Who sounded off?” she asked quietly.

“Yelena,” he replied.

Y/N sighed this time.  “Good,” she said.  She was friends with Yelena, so she was happy to know they were on the same side.  After a few more minutes Bucky heard Y/N’s breathing slightly pick up.  He glanced at her and saw tears silently streaming down her face, her fingers fiddling in her lap.  She was stressed, and scared, as anyone would be while escaping from a newly discovered corrupt government agency and trying to safely make it to a checkpoint, but being in a compromised position made it even worse.  He reached out and took her hand closest to him, gently rubbing her knuckles.  She squeezed his hand as they drove as fast as possible without raising suspicion.  They were on the run. 

[spiribia]

imagine a bullet shears through your window and takes out a guy right in front of in a glittering hail of glass and you are a wanted fugitive and downstairs you can hear the muffled indifferent sounds of laughter and boisterous conversation and you go down through pulsing disco lights in a shocked daze and Ruby The Instigator is the one person who looks up from whatever the boys are bantering about now which sounds like it's underwater anyway and notices you and when you shakily take a seat she comes and sits down next to you just to be your friend because youre pale and shivering and this basic concern dooms her forever and ever

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2323

warnings/notes: violence, blood, mentions of murder

Chapter 3: The Awakening

The ride back to Austin's place was a blur, the late-night landscape passing by in a haze. Bonnie clung to him. The moonlight streamed down in intermittent flashes, the leafy canopy above doing its best to shield them from celestial view. Austin drove with a practiced ease, his body automatically navigating the familiar turns and dips of woodland roads, but his mind was elsewhere. The only sound was the masterful growl of the motorcycle engine and the occasional rustling leaves in the wind. His heart thundered a rhythm that echoed Bonnie’s own - one of fear, hope and uncertainty.

Bonnie held onto him tighter, her eyes closing as she tried to block out the reality of their situation. She rested her head against his broad back, his unique scent - a mix of dirt, gasoline and something distinctly Austin - permeating her senses. It was comforting, familiar and it grounded her in the moment. They finally arrived at his cabin tucked away in the woods, a solitary beacon of light amidst the indigo canvas of the night. He cut the engine, and for a moment, everything was silent.

"Are you okay?" Austin asked, as he helped her off the bike. Bonnie nodded, her face pale in the moonlight. She did not trust her voice enough to answer verbally.

Once inside, Austin began to explain. "Our transformation isn't... easy," he said truthfully, his eyes haunted. "But it's part of us, and fighting it only makes it worse."

"But I don't want this." Bonnie's voice was soft, defeated. "I left this world behind."

Austin's countenance softened. It pained him to see Bonnie torn between two worlds - one she longed to forget and another she wished she could return to - both impossible desires.

"And yet you're here now," he reminded her. "You can't deny what you are. No more than I can."

His statement hung heavy in the silence that followed. Bonnie turned towards him, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite place - fear or determination, he wasn’t sure.

"But I can try," she answered, her voice resolute. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Austin sighed, running a hand through his hair. He understood her trepidation. He had lived with this curse - this gift - long enough to know the struggles it presented, the choices it forced one to make.

"We never choose who we hurt, Bonnie," he said softly, looking deeply into her eyes. "But we can decide who we protect."

Bonnie was silent for a moment before slowly reaching for his hands. His breath hitched as their fingers intertwined, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Their connection was electric, familiar yet completely new.

"Austin..." Bonnie's voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed loudly in the quiet of the room.

"Let me protect you," Austin said firmly, cupping her face in his powerful hands. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at her wonderingly, as if seeing her for the first time.

Bonnie's breath hitched at his words and for a moment, she just stared at him, her gaze searching his. Her uncertainty was evident, but there was something else too: a softness, a yearning that promised to tip the scale. "Okay," she finally whispered, her pulse quickening under Austin's gentle touch.

Relief swept over Austin and he pulled her into an embrace, burying his face in her hair. His heart pounded loudly in his ears and for the first time in years, he felt something akin to happiness. Their bodies fitted together perfectly as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that had been lost for far too long. Is this how it felt to be in the presence of your mate? He never wanted to let her go again.

"Bonnie," Austin said softly, a serene peace washing over him. He pulled away slightly so that he could look at her, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Why don't you go take a shower? It’s been a long night for you."

Bonnie nodded, disentangling herself from his arms reluctantly. She gave him one last lingering look before making her way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of silence in her wake.

Once she was out of sight, Austin expelled the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. His heart pounded against his chest - an erratic rhythm that mirrored the whirlwind of emotions he felt. An overwhelming urge to protect Bonnie had taken hold of him, and he knew he would face any danger head-on for her safety. He needed to get a hold of himself. There would be time for emotions later—for now, he had to focus on ensuring Bonnie’s safety. Austin turned his attention to the cabin. He took a moment to secure the place, double-checking the locks on all windows and doors. His senses were on high alert, the primeval wolf in him pacing restlessly, ready to defend its territory and protect its mate.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the soft sound of the bathroom door opening or the quiet padding of bare feet on the old wooden floor until Bonnie was standing right in front of him. The sight of her stopped him in his tracks. Wrapped in a large fluffy towel that barely reached her mid-thighs, with her hair damp and carelessly falling around her shoulders, she looked ethereal under the soft glow of the lamps.

"Is everything okay?" Bonnie asked softly, breaking his reverie.

"Yeah," Austin managed to croak out, tearing his gaze away from her. "Everything's fine."

The phrase was a blatant lie, and he knew it. He could barely focus on anything, but the arousal arising inside him. As Austin looked away from Bonnie, his breath hitched at the sight of her. She had changed into a loose, cozy nightgown that came down to her knees, revealing long, toned legs and the gentle curve of her stomach. He could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, like a beacon guiding him towards her. His wolf wanted nothing more than to claim her right there and then, to mark her as his own. But he knew better than that. Bonnie deserved patience. One wrong move could send her running away, especially given the fragile state she was in. Austin had to tread this path carefully, cautiously.

"Austin?" Bonnie's voice pulled him from his thoughts, its softness like a warm embrace.

"I'm alright," he said again, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. His gaze roamed her face, lingering on the worry etched in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked, skepticism etching her brows together in a delicate frown.

He chuckled at her persistent concern. "Yes, Bonnie, I promise."

He watched as she sighed, pressing a hand gently to her temple, a gesture he remembered from their past. With a start, he realized how weary she looked, the circles under her eyes mirroring the same exhaustion etched into her delicate features.

“Hey,” he said gently, touching her arm lightly making Bonnie look up at him, “come with me.” Gently guiding her by the small of her back, he led Bonnie towards his bedroom. It was simple and unpretentious; a reflection of Austin himself. The king-sized bed sat invitingly against one wall, flanked by two rustic bedside tables. One wall was adorned with various photos and memorabilia from his biker life, creating an interesting contrast with the otherwise bare walls.

“This is my room,” Austin began hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare show of nervousness, “You can sleep here tonight.”

Bonnie blinked at him in surprise, her mouth parting into a tiny ‘o’. Seeing the confusion on her face, Austin quickly clarified.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” His wolf howled in protest inside him, wanting nothing more than to share that bed with her—to hold her close and keep her safe in his arms.

Bonnie’s gaze wandered about as she took in everything around her. The room was neat, everything meticulously placed and not a speck of dust in sight. It screamed 'Austin' - practical, rugged, and distinctly masculine. She glanced at the bed, then back to Austin, her expressive eyes wide with uncertainty, worry... and something else he couldn't quite place.

"I..." she began hesitantly, biting her lower lip nervously, "I'd rather you...," she trailed off.

Austin tilted his head to one side, an eyebrow arched in question. "Yeah?" he coaxed gently.

Her voice was so soft when she finally found the words that he almost missed them. "I'd rather you sleep…with me."

His heart thundered against his chest at her confession and a surge of warmth spread through him despite the chill outside. His wolf preened, satisfied at the prospect of being closer to their mate.

"All right," Austin replied simply. He would honor her request but he intended to keep his distance in the bed as much as possible. He didn't trust himself entirely around her right now and he didn't want to inflict any unwelcome advances on Bonnie when she was so vulnerable.

"Are you sure?" There was a note of worry in his voice that betrayed his composure.

Bonnie nodded, her face a shade of pink that Austin had never seen before. He could tell she was nervous, but also determined. "Yes," she said. She hesitated for a moment then added, "I think I'll feel safer...if you're there."

Those words caused an immense feeling of protectiveness to surge within Austin. He felt his wolf stirring inside him, pleased with the notion that their mate felt safe in their presence. He offered a small smile and extended his hand towards her, which she took after a moment's hesitation.

Austin led her to the bed, pulling back the thick comforter for her to climb under. Once she was settled in, he got on the other side of the bed, keeping a respectful distance between them. It took every ounce of his control not to pull Bonnie close to him and envelope her in his warmth. Sensing his struggle, his wolf growled lowly within him. As Austin lay there in the dimly lit room, the silence between them seemed almost deafening. Bonnie shifted slightly under the covers, her breaths coming out in small, nervous puffs. Austin could feel the tension radiating from her, and it mirrored his own internal battle. He turned to look at her, his gaze meeting hers in the shadows. The vulnerability in her eyes tugged at something deep within him, a primal urge to protect and cherish this woman who had walked back into his life so unexpectedly.

Without a word, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle yet tinged with longing. Bonnie's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, a small sigh escaping her lips. In that moment, all pretenses and barriers melted away between them. Austin's resolve crumbled as he allowed himself to give in to the undeniable connection that hummed between them. He moved closer, closing the gap between their bodies until they were inches apart.

Their breaths mingled in the space between them, warm and intimate. As Austin finally wrapped his arms around Bonnie, pulling her close to him in a protective embrace, he felt her relax against him, her heartbeat syncing with his own. And in the quiet of the night, surrounded by nothing but trust and understanding, they drifted off to sleep together, finding peace in each other's presence.

A few hours into their slumber, Bonnie began to thrash restlessly beside him. Her face was scrunched up, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead as soft whimpers escaped her lips. Austin woke instantly; his werewolf instincts kicking in at the first sign of distress. "Bonnie," he called softly, his voice groggy with sleep. He turned on his side, placing a comforting hand on her arm. Her body was rigid, her breathing shallow and fast.

She was in the throes of a nightmare. Austin's heart clenched at the sight of her struggling with unseen demons. It was then that he heard it – a quiet murmur slipping out from Bonnie's lips, "Liam… no…"

The name sparked a surge of fury inside Austin. His wolf growled deep within him, hating the thought of anyone causing their mate pain.

"Shh… you're safe, Bonnie." Austin murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he gently stroked her back. He could feel his fur bristle under his skin, fighting the urge to shift and protect. "He can't hurt you anymore."

Sleep proved elusive as Bonnie's ragged breaths echoed in the silence. Each whimper, each plea to her tormentor conjured bitter memories in Austin's mind. Heaving a weighted sigh, he pulled Bonnie even closer to him. His arms tightened around her trembling figure. His nose was buried in the softness of her hair, taking solace in her familiar scent that mixed with the musky aroma of the forest. It reminded him of their shared past, further fueling his overwhelming need to protect her.

“Bonnie.” He whispered once more into the silence, his voice tender and pleading. The mere sound of her name on his lips seemed to soothe his agitated wolf. “You’re not there anymore, baby. You’re safe here...with me.”

As if sensing Austin's determination to keep her safe, Bonnie’s sleep-tossed body slowly relaxed against him. Her breaths became more even as the nightmare lost its grip over her subconsciousness. Feeling her finally settle against his chest, Austin let out a silent sigh of relief. His hand kept an even rhythm on her back, the comforting gesture lulling them both back towards sleep. His eyes remained open, mind alert for any sign of distress from Bonnie. His wolf was restless inside him, pacing and growling in response to the scent of Bonnie’s fear that lingered in the air. Austin allowed the low purr of his wolf to rumble through his chest, a calming lullaby for the woman in his arms.

Stay tuned for part 4!! Click HERE to view!

[pinkthrone445]

~Shadows of the night~

Pairing:Brienne of tarth x Reader

Gender: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers.

Warnlings : (+18) Alcohol, mention of deaths, few spoilers for Game of Thrones season 2. Tell me if any were missing.

Summary:Brienne ends up falling in love with someone she didn't expect.

Enjoy! And don't forget to reblog! 💕

The intense fluttering of the crows pulled her out of the spiral of her thoughts, the night was very dark and she could not see beyond what the torches illuminated, but she came to see a flash among the trees of the forest, something was moving, probably an animal, but as a precaution she drew her sword looking intently at the forest. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt the breeze rustle around her neck. Mrs. Stark's scream cut through the silence of the night, quick as her feet would allow, Bri entered the tent to find an arrow stuck in the tent pole, inches from the woman's head, with a note attached to it

_______________________________________________

Brienne was on patrol by Lady Stark's tent, It wasn't too long ago that she had been leading the fugitive kingslayer to trade him for Miss Stark's children. But his words echoed in her head: "You're uglier in the daytime" "Where did the lady get a giant like you?" "Have you ever been with a man or woman? Maybe with a horse?". All her life she had suffered from comments like that, but the more years passed, the more the words echoed in her head, would she ever get someone to truly love her? Anyone who sees her true beauty?

-"Are you okay my lady?"-Bri asked with her sword in hand, looking for the intruder who had shot the arrow. The woman nodded still frightened, Bri found no one and went back to her side checking her to see if she had any wounds- "Did you have a chance to see someone?"- The tall woman asked, but the lady shook her head again. Bri was scared, but she didn't let it show, keeping her feelings under her stoic gaze, again someone in her care was in danger and she couldn't do anything to protect her.

After having secured the perimeter with more guards, Bri took the arrow with the note and opened it, it was a small note without much content but with an extravagantly delicate handwriting

Brienne read the note at least three times, the last time aloud for the lady to hear

"My lady, your life is in grave danger, someone is out for revenge and you are blamed for not finding it, you must be extremely careful"

-"Trap or not, this is a warning and a well-founded one, we know that there is a father seeking revenge for his son and I let the culprit escape"- the lady spoke and her knight nodded - "I'm going to need your protection more than ever, look for more knights that you trust to take care of me and my son, we don't know who else is involved in revenge, so just look for the ones you trust the most. I will talk about this with my son, if they seek to cause me harm, they will go after him too".

-"This must be a trap my lady, the arrow alone is a threat, surely they are trying to alter your judgment by making you nervous just so they can try something else" - The tall woman spoke, but the older one shook her head

Her knight nodded and went to do everything she had asked, in just a few hours, Mrs. Stark and her son were protected by good knights and squires. That same night, her enemies tried to go against her and claim her and her son's life, but failed thanks to the anonymous warning letter.

A couple more days passed and there was no sign of the anonymous writer of the letter. Every night, as Brienne made her rounds guarding the perimeter, she felt like someone was watching her from the woods, but it never was anyone else in the place when she went to check.

One night, returning from a long journey, Brienne and her mistress entered the tent where the woman usually wrote letters and went about her business, but the blonde quickly drew her sword at the sight of a woman sitting in the lady's seat. The woman was as pale as the moon, but her hair, eyes, and clothes were black as night, no doubt she was someone Brienne did not know, for she was sure that she could never forget her face even if a thousand more lives passed. Although Bri was very tall and stocky and her sword was more than half the height of the seated woman, the black-haired woman didn't flinch one bit

-"Declare your affairs woman, or the last thing you will see, will be the edge of my sword for breaking in and using Mrs. Stark's chambers without permission"- said the knight. You laughed, standing in front of the knight looking into her eyes, raising your head because of the height difference

-"I'd like to see you try" -You said defiantly and passed by her almost standing in front of Mrs. Stark, the only reason you stopped was because the knight was lightly pressing the sword on your neck- "my Lady" - You said ignoring the pressure of the sword on your neck and the woman holding it, looking straight at the older one in front of you- "I have come to beg you to let me serve you as one of your guard" - Brienne laughed dryly, she couldn't believe the chutzpah you had

-"Why?" - The eldest asked -"and what makes you think you have what it takes? I already have more than necessary protection by my side" - the lady pointed to the woman who still had her sword on your neck

-"I've seen how you work, plan, and carry out your things. No man can think of things the way you do, and there's no one else I'd like to protect. I know she is more than enough protection, but I will not only protect you from imminent threats, but from threats that no one knows or sees until it's too late"-You took an arrow out of its case and gave it to the woman, but she didn't take it, just looked at it-"My lady, I have already proved myself worthy by warning of a betrayal of which no one knew" -At that moment, Brienne understood everything, you had been the archer who had shot the arrow with the letter, she pressed the sword more against your neck causing a drop of blood to come out and slowly run down your neck

-"Your arrow almost killed the lady, it was stuck inches from her head" -The blonde spoke rudely looking you straight in the eyes

-"If I had wanted to kill her, I would have. I never missed an arrow, I just wanted to get her attention" - you took out a piece of cloth and pressed it against the armed chest of the tallest woman, Brienne took it and her blood ran cold when she noticed that it was a piece of her cloak, but she didn't show any emotion on her face-"I had the opportunity to hurt both of you several times, but I didn't. I only observed you hidden in the shadows of the forest and in the shadows of the night. Believe me, ma'am, when I say that I can be of great help by being by your side"

Lady Stark nodded analyzing the situation carefully

-"Put down the sword Brienne"-the blonde did as she was asked but without moving away from you an inch - "I will allow you to serve me, but you will be under Brienne's command, she will control you until you show us that we can trust you"- she spoke in a neutral tone and you smiled

-"Thank you ma'am" - you knelt down with one knee on the ground and bowed your head-"I don't believe in gods, but I make this promise out of the love I have for my mother and the respect I have for my father. I promise to serve you and abide by every decision you make, the gods you serve will be my gods and wherever you go I will go. I will be loyal to you until my last breath and give my life for yours if it is necessary. I will serve you without distractions, I will not seek my advantage in any aspect of my life, I will not seek a partner or love, nor start a family, you will always be the most important thing in my life my Lady".

From that day forward you began to serve at Brienne's side. While it had been the decision of Lady Stark and her orders, there was something about you that made Brienne wary. You were always alone, hidden, and didn't talk much about your life. But she had to admit that you were very good at guarding the perimeter and guarding them from distant threats. No one had the skill with the bow like you.

After spending several weeks together, Brienne would see you go into the woods alone almost every night, so she started following you to find out what you were doing, but even though she was very good at following trails, she always lost you.

One night like any other, as she was following you, something hit her head gently, looking at the ground she noticed that it was a pine cone, looking up, she saw you sitting on a tree branch looking at her seriously with your head tilted to the side

-"How many more nights do you plan to follow me?" - You asked and she pretended not to understand

-"I was just getting some air" - replied the blonde and you came down from the tree standing next to her, raising your head to look her in the eye

-"I don't know if you're more bad at lying or trying to be silent and go unnoticed."-You responded by walking around her and tugging at her cloak a little—"your armor and cape make you stomp under his weight, that's why I always feel when you're coming and I have time to hide so you don't follow me" -You started walking deeper into the woods, reaching a lake and dipping your toes into the water after taking off your shoes. Brienne followed you and stood beside you staring at you in the moonlight, almost hymnotized, forgetting for a moment why she was following you.

-"You go out to train with your swords, I go out at night to enjoy the calm and silence" - you said softly and that brought Brienne out of her trance- "I know you don't trust me, I see it in your eyes, in your whole being. You never let me be alone with Lady Stark, you never stop watching me when I do something, you always treat me worse than the others under your command, whenever I grab my bow you look at me suspiciously, waiting for me to do something wrong to attack me... Someday I'll do something to show you that I'm just as deserving to protect someone as you are... I know I don't know how to fight hand-to-hand like you, I don't know how to use a sword like you, I know I'm just the daughter of a blacksmith and a servant, that I'm not from any royal family or any knight, but I trained a lot to be the best archer there was and I know I am, So I won't let your distrust of me bring me down and make me doubt what I'm worth, because I know I'm very good at my job and I don't need your approval"-You spoke with more and more anger in your voice, something Brienne didn't expect, was a midnight confession of how her treatment made you feel. Not knowing what to say and seeing that you weren't doing anything wrong, she turned and went back to camp leaving you alone.

More months passed, and Brienne began to feel less distrustful of you and more curious to meet you. Little by little she began to invite you to eat with her when they had breakfast in the fortress, when you passed each other in the corridors she greeted you with a small bow with her head. She started teaching you a little bit of meelee combat and in return, you tried to teach her how to shoot arrows, but it was a failure. Brienne began to trust you, in battles, and in day-to-day life. She realized that her mistrust had been baseless and that you were indeed a very good person, with good and transparent intentions, to be of use under someone good like Lady Stark.

She didn't know if it was because you spent so much time together or because you always had something interesting to tell, but every day she wanted to spend more time by your side listening to you and watching you. Taking advantage of every opportunity to be near you, she went from following you to control you to following you to admire you.

Brienne had never felt this way about anyone, she had never enjoyed someone's company so much, she didn't know what was happening to her, but she liked it. Although it bothered her a little not knowing what was going on in your head.

One day, after an arduous battle, the Starks threw a big party, to which you and Brienne were invited as it was your days off. If the blonde wasn't sure how she felt about you, she was convinced she was in love when she saw you walk through the doors wearing a red dress and your hair up, a big contrast to the black outfit you wore when you went into battle. Out of nerves, the tall woman was avoiding you most of the night. For your part, you thought that Brienne for some reason had become suspicious of you again, and since you didn't like being with many other people, you stayed on the side of the party, taking every drink that crossed in front of you to kill the boredom.

A couple of hours later, you went to your room, stumbling a little from having a few too many drinks. When you were taking off your clothes, a soft knock was felt on your door, knowing very well the footsteps that had been heard seconds before, you were sure that the blonde was on the other end of the call

-"Come in"-You answered, Brienne came in to talk to you, to apologize for avoiding you all night, so you wouldn't think wrong, but forgot what she was going to say when she saw how little clothes you were wearing. For your part, you didn't know if it was the drinks you drank or what, but instead of being embarrassed, you stuck out your chest to show off your attributes more - "The cat ate your tongue, Bri?"

"Bri" the blonde liked the sound of that nickname from your lips. She tried to talk but she only stammered, especially when you started to get close to her, trapping her between you and the door. Brienne felt silly looking at the seductive way you smiled and how your eyes sparkled in the candlelight, why were you looking at her that way? She never imagined that someone could look at her like that. Perhaps it was one of those dreams she had had the last few nights, in which she imagined that the feelings she had were reciprocal

-Are you going to start following me again to see what I'm doing or did you come for another reason? - You spoke very close to her and Brienne just shook her head

-I-I... - Why had she come? How do you think about anything when one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen was half naked in front of her? What could she say that wouldn't make you walk away, that would keep you coming closer to her? Brienne was confused, according to her, she had never liked a woman before, was that wrong? What if your prompt actions weren't what they seemed and she tried something and just scared you?. Before her head could continue to curl any further, she felt yourself gripping the collar of her shirt tightly, pulling her close to you and bumping your lips against hers. Brienne was in shock and couldn't follow the kiss, but she felt how you kissed her in desperation, she also felt the alcohol on your breath. She tried to stop you, she knew you were drunk and this wasn't right, but when you started kissing and biting her neck, she lost all willpower. With great agility you turned her around and pushed her onto your bed, climbing on her hips and removing her shirt

-"(Y/N)... "- The blonde wanted to speak firmly, but it came out like a desperate whimper-"(Y/N) stop... I had never..." - she whispered and you smiled

-"It's okay, don't worry, I haven't done it before either, we can learn together. Tell me you really don't want to and I'll stop, but I've seen how your gaze has changed for me, I know it's not just my imagination and that you want this too. You are a perfect woman and I have liked you for a long time, you drive me crazy and I would like to show you how much I like you kissing every inch of your perfect body. If you let me, I'll spend my whole life revering every inch of you"-You whispered desperately and began kissing and marking her chest. Brienne did want this, but not like this, not while you were drunk, not when the next day you wouldn't remember anything and maybe you'd regret being with her. How is it that you ended up with her, when you could have gone with anyone more beautiful than her. Thousands of questions went through her head, how could she stop you without you taking it badly? Was it the effect of the alcohol or did you also feel something true for her? Was being with a woman wrong? What would others say? Caught up in her doubts and fears, Brienne lowered her gaze to finally stop you, but what she saw took her out of place. You had fallen asleep on her chest, curled up with a small smile. Near your mouth, on her skin, were a couple of marks and bites. Your breathing was soft and calm and your arms were hugging her waist tightly, as if hugging her is your only reason to live. Brienne sighed, the alcohol had knocked you out and stopped you from getting any further. On one hand she was relieved but on the other, she couldn't deny how hot you had made her feel. Little by little, Brienne's agitated breathing was controlled and before she knew it, she fell asleep, relaxed from feeling of you on top of her, feeling calm and safe.

The next morning, with the first rays of sunshine, Brienne awoke, immediately remembering the events of the previous night, fear taking over her body. What if you woke up upset without understanding what she was doing there? What if you thought she had taken advantage of you? What if, since you didn't have alcohol in your system, you saw again how unpleasant she was? What if... Brienne watched as you slept peacefully on top of her, still clinging to her waist, Your hair was a little disheveled, but the same smile from the night before was still on your face. How was it possible that you were even more beautiful like that? Although her brain was telling her to run, to avoid waiting for you to wake up, her hands moved to your back caressing it with delicacy and love. If this was the only time she'd be like this with you, maybe she should seize the opportunity. She took a deep breath etching your scent into her memory, your entire room had your scent. She smiled again as she felt a little sleepy babble from you and how you snuggled closer to her chest, as if you wanted to reach her heart and stay there forever. Suddenly, your eyes opened, widened, and she could see the panic in them, making her nervous as well. The magical moment was broken, you had already woken up and she was still there hugging you against her body

-"B-Brienne" -You whispered and sat on the bed looking at her and covering your body with the sheets, your cheeks turned red at the sight of the marks on Brienne's chest - "what happened? You and me?... Did we?... "

-"No no" -Brienne quickly shook her head- "You fell asleep on my chest and I couldn't leave without waking you up..." - she saw how you sighed with relief and her heart contracted a little, were you relieved that you hadn't been with her? Would you have regretted it if it had happened? You needed alcohol to be with her?... Brienne got up quickly, since you didn't have her pinned against your body and the bed anymore, she arranged her clothes walking to the door - "I've got to go, we've got training in a few hours" -she said. When she was about to leave, she stopped as you grabbed her wrist, she turned and lowered her head to see you. You had a look of remorse on your face as you had remembered several things that happened in the night, but you also looked very fragile and sincere

-"I'm so sorry for my behavior last night... Alcohol... The alcohol made me act indecently, I'm relieved that nothing went any further... But it's not a lie what I said, I like you very much Bri and I think you are a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever seen... I'm relieved that nothing else happened, but not because I don't want to be with you, but because our first time should be something to remember, not something from an impulse for alcohol...I don't know if you like me or it was just my imagination, but you drive me crazy, I've been in love with you for months and it's getting worse every day... I want to kiss you every minute and always be close to you, I want to..." - This time, it was Brienne who interrupted you with a kiss, but it was a slower and more loving one, more affectionate and delicate, a great contrast to the kiss of the night before.

-"I like you too, a lot"-she whispered against your lips making you smile, then she hugged your waist and continued kissing you lovingly.

That's when Brienne understood that it didn't matter what others said or what names they called her, she was beautiful and more than enough, she could see it in your eyes and you spend every day showing how much you loved her and how beautiful she really was.

[jake-s-azaleea]

Dancing with our hands tied

Duskwood one shot

pairing: Jake X mc

warnings: I'm the best writer y'all know

a fanfic I promised in the comments of an incorrect quote 🤍

(if y'all didn't get it, the title is from a Taylor Swift song)

***

As time flowed onward, the band of companions who weathered a profound loss gravitated towards one another, forging bonds more profound than ever. MC relocated to Duskwood, taking up residence in a dwelling near Lilly's place of employment, while Jessy and Dan found themselves employed at Phil's Bar, with Jessy immersed in administrative tasks behind the scenes. Cleo remained dedicated to her mother's ventures, and Thomas... his frequent companionship with Hannah hinted at a blossoming connection. Their unity grew steadfast as they discovered solace in each other's presence.

Jake, still evading capture, continued his fugitive existence. With the case concluded, he no longer needed to risk himself as he did in the past, allowing him to slip away for extended periods, evading detection until his trail could be picked up once more. The winding roads beckoned him toward his elusive destination, guiding him to where he felt he truly belonged- Next to her.

It's been a year and everything feels normal. The Pine Glade Festival was getting closer and Jessy planned a whole day of activities for them.

They were all staying at Aurora at a table listening to her and the perfect fantasy she imagined.She looked like she was getting her colour back into her face after all this time. She looked more content, her eyes reflecting a newfound sense of peace. It's a subtle shift, but one that speaks volumes. She was destroyed after the incident and didn't speak to anyone for a whole month.

a part of her died in that fire.

But now they were all so invested in her plans for a perfect day. The road to the waterfall was now opened and she wanted so badly to go there. the others just agreed and smiled at her.

A few days passed and the Pine Glade Festival came. They were supposed to meet there at 6 PM.

***

You grab your phone, keys and wallet and head towards the center of the town. The sun lingered in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the town, its pale rays painting the streets with a comforting warmth. As daylight stretched its fingers across the rooftops and cobblestone paths, the town seemed to bask in a tranquil embrace, a serene moment captured in the soft light of day.

You get there pretty early, but your train of thoughts is stopped by the sound of your phone buzzing.

Jake: I see you.

You sigh, your lips curving into a small smile. 'Of course you do' you thought to yourself.

You glance around and catch sight of him standing by a terrace, clad in a black hoodie. Despite the distance veiling his eyes, his shy smile is unmistakable, a subtle yet intriguing expression that hints at hidden depths beneath the surface. You sprint towards him, your heart racing with anticipation, and envelop him in a tight embrace, your arms encircling his neck in a moment of closeness and connection. The rush of emotions floods through you, mingling with the thrill of the unexpected encounter in the midst of the mysterious setting.

His gaze meets yours, a silent exchange of emotions and unspoken words

"Hi there"

"Hello, MC."

"We should get going, the others must be waiting for us."

"After you." he said smiling, his gestures expressing for you to lead the way.

You two walk in a comfortable silence most of the way until you see the others in distance. As you approach them, Jake's gaze meets yours:

"How are you feeling?"

"I will be fine"

He sighs and puts his hand on the small of your back, slowly closing the distance between you and your friends. He knew what this day meant to you. Losing Richy must still sting after all this time and being here after a year... Perhaps torture.

"Hello guys"

"Hi, MC! Hi, Jake! I'm so glad you could make it here" Jessy exclaimed happily.

"Oh, me too, you have no idea" you said smiling warmly.

You warmly greeted everyone and embarked on a journey through the festival, immersing yourself in every game and delight it had to offer, savoring each moment of joy and excitement. You anchored yourself in these moments, enjoying them wholeheartedly next to your friends.

You found yourself in a spot where the music was enchanting, and the atmosphere was filled with joy as people danced and had a great time.

Thomas and Hannah flew like two lovebirds towards the platform and started dancing, their movements as light as a feather. The sheer joy radiating from them was truly enchanting, spreading like a sweet melody through the air: it was just intoxicating. Jessy led the charge, followed by Cleo, Lilly, and Dan, while you and Jake strolled behind, soaking in the magical moment. The scene was filled with energy and excitement, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere.

As you were walking quietly and listening to the music, you decide to break the silence.

"Do you dance?"

"No." he said without looking in your direction.

"Oh, alright."

"Ask me anyway"

"Do you want to dance with me?"

"Yes." he said glancing at you.

You smiled, maintaining eye contact as you got to the dance floor.

He extended his hand for you to grasp, guiding you onto the platform. As the music enveloped you both, you began to dance as if the melody was composed solely for the two of you. With each note, Jake skillfully led you in the dance, creating a harmonious and captivating rhythm between you.

After a few songs, a slow one began, and he drew you near, enveloping you in the gentle embrace of the music. The closeness between you two added a layer of intimacy to the dance, intensifying the emotions shared in that moment.

"When did you learn how to dance?" you asked.

"I figured you might want to dance today so... I did my research."

"You learnt to dance for me?"

He said nothing in return but tightened his embrace.

Maybe home has a heartbeat 🤍

****

I just loved writing this

prompts to @duskwood-mc-art for inspiring me to write it

[sketchy-owl]

~Dorks in Wonderland~

Episode 6 Vil Schoenheit x reader

Vil:Y/N get back!

Y/N:NO!

Vil:You better listen to me young lady/man!

Y/N:*rise their middle finger*

Vil:How dare you!!

Y/N: I dare!*runs away*

Vil:I just wanna help you!

Y/N:Help me!? Does helping mean burn away my comfy clothes and all my beautiful shirts!?

Vil;*makes a disgusted face* Beautiful? Those t-shirts were a crime for anyone who has a sense of fashion!

Y/N:*dramatic gasp* How dare you insult my precious babies!!! If there's someone who has no sense of fashion then IT'S YOU !!

Vil:I will pretend to not hear what you've just said. Seems like I'll have to teach to have some manners!

Y/N:Manners,my ass!! Hypocrite! You are a brute! A dictator with too much make up who pretends to be a Queen!!

Vil:*clearly pissed and blocks Y/N on the wall*

Y/N:V-Vil?*blushes*

Vil:Now...you better beg for my forgiveness...and maybe I'll go easy on you.

Y/N:*red as a tomato*S-stop...

Vil:Looks like you are not a potato anymore...maybe I'll shall call you Tomato from now on...*caresses Y/N's lips with his tumb*

Y/N:V-Vil.... *gasp* Is that wrinkle on your face!?

Vil:Where!? *grabs a mirror*

Y/N:*runs* THAT WAS EASY!

Vil:Oh now you've done it!!*tries to get them*

Y/N:You'll never take me alive!!*near the exit*

Rook:*catches Y/N* Gotcha ya!*chuckles* My Roi du poison I captured our fugitive !

Y/N:*pales* Rook...I thought we were friends...

Rook: We are but however I cannot disobey to my Roi du poison.

Y/N:*sees Epel* EPEL HELP ME!

Epel:...*mouths "You are on your own this time"*

Y/N:TRAITOR..

Vil:Now....it's time to give you a proper look. You'll look at least decent.

Y/N:.....

And then their screams were so loud that the whole NRC could hear them.

[freezingmcxn]

Jeff the Killer: A deep “analysis” of his appearance.

Tw: heavy discussion of gore and grotesque imagery

I'm not a medical professional, these insights are based on research from books, medical websites, and basic biology I learned in school.

Jeff the Killer is a character known for his appearance, shaped by bleach, fire, and his Glasgow smile.

However, I want to consider his look from a realistic perspective.

His Skin

Ac:shatteredankles

Jeff would likely exhibit various types of burns with different colors and textures. Pale skin alone wouldn't define his appearance:

Immediately After Being Burned

His wounds might appear red, bumpy, and extremely swollen.

Blisters, ranging from a few centimeters to a few inches (depending on severity), could form across the affected areas, giving his skin a “glossy sheen”.

In the most affected parts, the external layer of skin could “split open” and separate from the layers beneath, revealing raw, shiny, and splotchy skin.

The area that dealt with the most intense flames could become blackened, bloody and flaky wounds.

The parts of his skin that burned for the longest might have left his skin looking leathery rather than freshly burned, skin cooks (think of beef jerky).

Healing Process

If Jeff had received skin grafts in a hospital, the scars might show a fishnet pattern due to the stretching of the grafts. However, it’s unlikely that Jeff’s body would have fully healed without extensive treatment(he decided to murder his whole family before getting it..so y’know).

Therefore, his burns might be severely infected:

Swelling and fluid buildup under the skin and around wounds would start to happen.

This fluid could be yellow, green, brown, or black, accompanied by a foul odor like “ammonia or spoiled fruit”

Fourth-degree burns could have caused significant nerve damage, leaving him in constant pain and with a high risk of septic shock.

Demeanour

Burning bleach can release toxic fumes, including chlorine gas, leading to severe respiratory issues, lung damage, and potential poisoning:

Jeff might have a chronic cough, difficulty speaking, and breathing issues, resulting in a raspy voice.

Burns are extremely itchy, especially first-degree burns, leading to relentless scratching.

Jeff would likely be in excruciating pain constantly, possibly resulting in substance abuse, such as morphine and painkillers, due to his inability to access medical care as a fugitive.

His skin might be peeling or falling off, necessitating the use of bandages to hold it together and attempt to heal.

Jeff could suffer from PTSD (btw adding this depth to his character is amazing to see rather than the usual edgy teen)

His Smile

Jeff’s cheeks are cut from the corners of his mouth up towards his ears, creating an exaggerated "smile."

The Initial Injury

The cuts would be deep, extending through multiple layers of skin and possibly affecting the muscles around the mouth.

This specific type injury would cause so much bleeding, and without immediate medical intervention, it would be difficult to manage on his own, he would’ve been gushing blood for a long time, enough to make him pass out.

The initial pain from such an injury would be excruciating obviously , this will most definitely contribute to Jeff's psychological state.

Healing and Scarring

As the wounds attempt to heal, they would form thick, rigid scar tissue. The scars might be red/purple initially, fading to a lighter color over time but remaining highly visible (look up pictures of a healed Glasgow smile).

The scars would be rough and raised, with a “puckered apperance due to the tension in the skin as it heals.” The skin around the scars might appear uneven and bumpy.

The scarring could cause stiffness and limit the movement of his mouth, making most facial expressions very difficult.

Eating, drinking, and speaking could be significantly impaired due to the weird structure and function of his mouth.

Given Jeff’s lack of proper medical care, the cuts could become infected, like his burns.

Infected scars might appear swollen, red, and could exude pus (gross).

The deep cuts could damage facial nerves, leading to areas of numbness or chronic pain and hypersensitivity around the scars.

The scars would be a constant reminder of his trauma and might show signs of repeated irritation or reopening due to scratching his burns and all around poor healing environment.

I have no motivation to answer asks on my au rn, I’m trying my best, I made this for y’all :)

[unidentifiedmammal]

Alrighty so this is the post on lichen dyes!

this particular bath of lichen dyes was originally started over a year ago scraping a tentatively-ID'd lecanora and/or ochrolechia genus lichen off of a fallen branch (remember, don't gather lichen when it's still growing! it's very slow growing and easy to overharvest)

to start off, this particular type of dye is made through the ammonia-fermentation method, also known as ammonia maceration. No actual bacterial fermentation occurs though. Rather, the compound orcinol (and precursor compound to orcinols) react with ammonia (N2) and oxygen to form the compound orcein (also called orchil/archil) which is what makes the final dye!

this process takes anywhere from 3 weeks to 16+ weeks depending on the lichen species, its constituent acids, the temperature, and the frequency of aeration.

This batch was set aside for several months and neglected a good bit, but it still works. I strained out the crumbled lichens (which i set aside for later) and diluted it 1:4 as instructed by a very good book called Lichen Dyes: The New Source Book by Karen Diadick Casselman. This book is basically omnipresent everywhere you see lichen dyes mentioned, especially the orcein-based dyes. I also used several websites/videos/papers and such that i've hunted down over various internet crawls.

I use an old coffee pot for this as it's both a non-reactive material (glass) and is built to withstand heat. Ironically i also scraped the lichens off the branch using a tool i made out of a metal band from the broken handle of this same coffee pot!

I decided to dye some eri silk cakes that i fluffed up and scoured. these have been very good at absorbing dye in the past so i would hopefully get a good result from them. As lichens are a substantive dye i don't have to put a mordant on them, but i did soak them in an alum solution just before adding them to the dye bath to hopefully maximize dye uptake as well as improve fastness as lichen dyes are also fugitive and can fade in sunlight.

Substantive dyes contain mordants already embedded in them; fugitive dyes are a bit fuzzy to me but my understanding is they end up trapped in the fiber instead of actually bonding to the fiber in a stronger way. Mordants are used to help the dye "bite" onto the fiber better, improving both fastness (the ability of a due to resist fading from sunlight/washing/time) and the brightness of a color. Alum is useful in that it typically doesn't affect the end color of a dye more than simply making it slightly more strong!

it was pretty successful i'd say! i warmed up the dyebath, added the silk, let it simmer for a few hours, let it cool down overnight, and then warmed it back up the next day for a few hours; then, when it cooled, i took it out, let it dry, then rinsed it, and let it dry a second time. At that point, it was ready for spinning!

It was a lovely pink color that's not fully captured by the camera like most dyes, and eri silk is lovely because you can spin the clouds directly and easily without carding and make lovely relatively threadlike yarn

this was the first skein i got! i love how shiny the silk is. Some dyes can get really purple or even magenta-like!

next, i had the leftover lichens that i had set aside. They were a crumbly texture and dark black and i dried them out, crushed them up more, set them back in a jar, added more ammonia and water, and did the ammonia fermentation method a second time! this was after reading about the method for making french purple, and while this is definitely a very pale imitation of the method, the double-soak is the key feature here

here it is (on the left); it was already way darker purple than an in-progress lichen dye i had yet to crack open and use

speaking of which, heres a shot of various test lichens i had while working on this, you can see the blue-capped jar that has the second-soaked lichens. the foam will often give a preview of whether or not the dye will be red/purple or not!

Here it is, i forget how long i let it soak but i think it was a bit over a week. i strained the material out, diluted it, and then repeated the same warm/cool/warm/cool/dry/rinse/dry method with more eri silk

And below you can see the difference, it's definitely slight but still cool!

the left is from the original dyebath, the right is the second-soaked one. the first one is more salmon-colored while the second is a tad more blue-purpled!

I'm extremely excited about this, these dyes have such a fascinating history and have multiple historical uses everywhere from florentine orchil to norwegian korkje to scottish cudbear and more, and it was often used in tandem with the roman murex/tyrian purple dyes that come from a mussel. Some folks used the lichens to pre-dye the fabric before dyeing with tyrian purple, both to stretch the expensive tyrian purple and to make the end color more vibrant. It's all such a great topic that's mightily confusing and could take up a post of its own, same with the underlying chemistry of what makes these dyes work in the first place!

Anyways that's all for this post, i have more i'm working on involving actually turning these dyes into paint that i'll hopefully turn into a post on its own soon! I've also got other lichen dyes I'm waiting to get through the ammonia fermentation process that will hopefully give other colors, whenever that may be!

[thevampiricnihal]

The evidence that Nihal is a vampire:

1) She is sustained by others’ tears. Tears are a bodily fluid just like blood.

“For this reason, there was in Nihal the orphan’s burden of the sense of pity that she drank drop by drop from everyone’s eyes.”

(Chapter 3) (italics mine)

“Nihal let him. She leaned her head on the back of the armchair, and sat with a profound smile of relief in her eyes, feeling great consolation in the purity of the tears that were falling onto her knees. Finally she had found the tears that could openly be shed for her unspoken sorrows, and these tears welled up from Beşir’s innocent soul, from his aching soul that bled with who knew what drops of weeping poison.”

(Chapter 15) (italics mine)

2) The characters in the book assign to Nihal a “perpetual childhood”:

“Nihal, who now at fifteen remained a child to all around her, appeared to be destined to stay that way even tomorrow, when she was called a woman, a wife, or a mother.”

(Chapter 18)

Well, we know that people age in the Aşk-ı Memnu universe. Firdevs’s and Bihter’s aging is presented as inevitable. Why should Nihal stay young forever? Well, because she is a vampire, that’s why.

3) This is Nihal’s first description in the book which is in clear contrast to Bihter’s:

“Nihal’s sorrowful, jaundiced face that seemed to complain of being alive; and in its yellow hue the deceptive joy of a fugitive pink, trembling with the delicacy of a rose that will fade at once. Those eyes that tried to fool you with their smile when she was ill, that tried to lull those around her into contentment, that laughed while deep within, her sickening soul wept. He saw the meaning behind all of these. He remembered at that time, his daughter’s illnesses, the nervous fits, the headaches that began all the way at the nape of her neck and continued for weeks…

Suddenly, he thought he saw Nihal’s sad, weeping face looking at him. For a minute he wished to have this day erased from his life. Yes, today should be erased, today, like all other days, should be spent in unsuccessful battles; he ought not to be defeated. But now the application looked like a step that could not be retracted; he could find no opportunity in his heart to change or to yield the distance he had covered. Behind that ill visage was another, one with dark hair, long lashes, and large, sleepy eyes, full of poetry and youth, that smiled at him maddeningly.”

(Chapter 2)

Nihal’s face is pale, almost yellow in contrast to Bihter’s liveliness. But Bihter dies at the end, not Nihal. Why? Because Nihal had fed on Bihter’s life-force to keep herself alive.

4) This is how Nihal looks in the only screen adaptation of the book:

5) Nihal sees dreams where she is both alive and not, she imagines her mother’s corpse visiting hers in her grave, which requires both of them to be alive in their graves. And Nihal’s visions of afterlife seem to denote neither Heaven nor Hell. She is undead.

6) Nihal’s story shares several features with Snow White’s. And we all know that Snow White is a vampire.

The evidence is undeniable. Nihal is (unbeknownst to herself) a vampire.

@julyzaa @princesssarisa @winged-cries

[constantcrisis19]

Hey! I've been following your stuff for awhile and I am obsessed! Keep up the good work and I look forward to the next time you post!

Also, I was wondering if you could write a fic where Will is sick and the reader playing nurse and just giving this man some much needed TLC.

Tender Love And Care

Will Graham x GN S/O

AN: Not sure if this is exactly what you had in mind when you requested this, but I hope that you enjoy it! Thanks so much for your prompt, I had fun writing this!

Word Count: 1,965

The last week had been a test of your patience, between Chilton claiming to have the infamous Chesapeake Ripper in his care, the death of one of his nurses, Chilton’s theory being disproved, the court case, Dr. Gideon’s escape from an armored transfer vehicle and now all the media attention, it was like a fucking circus.

At this point, you were running on nothing but copious amounts of caffeine and pure will power.

You tiredly shuffled into the already packed briefing room, feeling not unlike a zombie as you maneuvered through the crowd, muttering half-hearted apologies as you mindlessly bumped into some of the other equally exhausted agents on your way to the front of the group.

You had just gotten settled, having saved your most recent cup of coffee from being knocked out of your hand by a wayward elbow more times than you could count, when Jack Crawford finally entered the room, the crowd easily parting for him like he was a shark moving through a school of fish.

“Alright, listen up people.” He began when he came to a halt in front of a series of white boards, every single one of them covered entirely in case notes about, not only the Chesapeake Ripper’s greatest hits, but also Gideon’s own confirmed kills. 

You knew every scrap of information, every little detail, every picture and notation on those fucking boards because you’d spent every waking hour over the past week adding to the steadily growing collection and meticulously studying every inch of data, like if you stared at it hard enough, then all the answers would suddenly come to you.

But alas, your job was rarely so easy.

“Our fugitive is Abel Gideon. Transplant surgeon. Convicted in the first degree in the murders of his wife and her family.” Jack stated to the room at large, his voice rough and tone serious, demanding nothing less than everyone’s full attention.

Though, even despite Jack’s commanding presence, you found your gaze wandering.

You lifted your cup of coffee up to your lips, taking a substantial gulp of the cooling beverage as your eyes scanned over the room, almost choking on your mouthful as you did a sudden double take when you spotted the man rumored to be Jack’s breadwinner.

“He’d been institutionalized at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, where he killed a nurse and claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper.” Jack continued his speech in the background as your gaze raked over the dark-haired man’s figure, your head tilted in blatant curiosity as you watched him.

He was hunched over against the wall, as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible, the man horribly pale and dripping sweat, his curly hair plastered to his head and neck. He was also shaking as if he were freezing cold, which was a cause for concern since the usually comfortable room was actually a bit stuffy because of all the people packed inside, each tremor that wracked his frame looking almost painful.

Your brows furrowed with thinly veiled concern as you tried to meet his gaze, his bright blue eyes glassy as they nonsensically darted about the room, almost as if he were tracking something that no one else could see. 

You glanced around to see if anyone else had picked up on the man’s odd behavior, but either no one noticed or they just didn't care because they were all dutifully facing the front of the room, fully focused on what Jack was saying.

“Dr Gideon escaped this morning after killing three people. He is armed and dangerous. He is believed to be at large.” Jack’s voice became muted as you gave up on keeping up with the briefing altogether in favor of scrutinizing Jack's prized consultant. 

You knew that his name was Will Graham, that he was a special agent and he had a truly insane clearance rate, but anything else about the man was shrouded in mystery. Though, the lack of general knowledge about the man didn’t exactly stop the rumor mill from theorizing about his personal life, if anything it only encouraged the more chatty agents.

You took a peek at Jack to make sure that he was none the wiser to your distracted state before beginning to slowly move through the group of agents, working your way over to the fringes of the crowd and towards the wall that the man was inelegantly slouched against.

You earned a few nasty looks when you had to impatiently nudge at anyone who wasn’t shifting out of your way fast enough, and it wasn’t long before you had reached your destination. 

You stopped about a foot away from Will, not wanting to make him feel cornered, but he didn’t seem to register your arrival, his eyes still wildly shooting around the room. You frowned, reaching out with the intention of maybe grabbing his shoulder or nudging him, but you hesitated halfway through the motion.

Your gaze briefly scanned over the other occupants in the room to make sure that everyone was still paying attention to Jack and was none the wiser to what you were up to, before you tried to get Will’s attention,  whispering just loud enough for Will alone to hear. “Excuse me? Mr. Graham?”

The man still showed no signs of having heard you, his gaze still worryingly distant, and you watched the man tremble and mutter unintelligibly under his breath for a short moment before taking a deep breath and resolutely moving your hovering hand, closing the distance between the two of you and lightly resting your palm on his shoulder.

“Uh, Will? You’re Will, right?” You asked quietly as you squeezed the twitching muscles beneath your hand, trying to rub out some of the obvious tension there. Will violently flinched at the gentle pressure, causing your hand to slide a little further up than you had intended, your fingers brushing across the delicate skin of his neck. 

Your eyes widened when you felt the sheer amount of heat exuding off the man, but you didn’t have a lot of time to linger on the fact that he was worryingly feverish because then Will was blinking rapidly, his hazy gaze clearing as his pale blue eyes darted over to you, settling somewhere near your forehead before darting away just as quickly.

“I- yeah. Yes. Did you need something?” He muttered as he removed his glasses and rubbed his hands over his damp face, sounding a bit dazed and confused, and you felt your gaze soften at the tangible exhaustion in his voice. 

“Well, no, not really. I was just wondering if you were feeling okay? You don’t look too good.” You stated with a weak shrug, scrutinizing every little expression that passed over his face as you spoke. Now that you knew what to look for, it was glaringly apparent that he was horribly sick, if his flushed cheeks, copious amount of sweat, disorientation and fatigue were any indication. 

"I'm fine." Will said unconvincingly, your lips pressing into a thin line as you watched him fumble with his jacket, trembling hands delving into one of the pockets and clumsily rummaging around for a few seconds before emerging with a bottle of what looked like over the counter pain medication.

The pills inside rattled as his shaking hands attempted to get the cap off, Will giving a low, frustrated curse that sounded a touch too desperate when he couldn't manage to successfully open the child lock.

After watching him needlessly struggle for a few seconds, you stepped closer, moving further into his personal space before reaching out to cover his unsteady hands with your own. Will froze, his eyes snapping up from your joined hands to your face, finally looking directly at you for the first time since you’d approached him.

You carefully coaxed his hands away from the stubborn bottle and twisted the cap open for him, tapping three of the chalky, white pills out into your palm before tipping them into the man’s unsteady hand. Will just stared down at the pills resting in the middle of his palm for a long moment, several different emotions flashing across his face so fast that you couldn’t keep up.

“Here. You look like you need it more than me.” You said, regaining his attention before you held your half full cup of coffee out to the man, assuming that the lack of something to wash the medication down with was what was causing the delay.

Will shoved the bottle back into his pocket before warily reaching out to take the offering, like if he moved too quickly, that the coffee cup would bite him or something. You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your lips at the man’s odd behavior, Will pausing with the cup resting against his mouth when he noticed your amusement.

“What?” He asked a little defensively, but you didn’t take his tone to heart, merely shaking your head as he popped the pills into his mouth. The action was followed by a mouthful of the now cold coffee, the man grimacing as he swallowed before handing the cup back.

“Nothing.” You replied as you rested your back against the wall next to Will, your lips pursing when a thought that you couldn’t ignore came to mind. “You’re very sick. Any chance that you could take a day off to rest up?” You asked, thoroughly unsurprised when Will whipped his head around to shoot you an incredulous look in response.

“I wish.” Will grumbled bitterly as his features hardened into something alarmingly close to resentment, the venom dripping from his words catching you off guard.

“Yeah, I figured, but it was worth a shot.” You shrugged in easy agreement in an attempt to dissipate some of the tension that had descended over the two of you and you hid a smile behind your coffee cup when Will let out a breath as he realized that you were under no delusions about how fucking annoyingly stubborn Jack could get. 

Nothing short of Will being on his deathbed would make Jack bench his best agent during such a high-profile case, no matter how ill Will was. 

“Guess that means I’ll be seeing you around then?” You mused, the man looking startled by the question for a moment before his eyes narrowed, his calculating gaze scrutinizing you for what felt like forever, before he found whatever he had been looking for and the tight line of his shoulders eased.

“Yeah.” He replied as his shoulders slumped, like he was buckling under the weight of the world. You tilted your head at him, eyes flicking over his side profile before you offered him your coffee again. This time, the man didn’t hesitate to take it, sipping at the contents as you both watched Jack wrap up the briefing. 

“Well, I look forward to working with you.” You stated with a genuine smile, pushing off the wall and letting him keep the rest of your coffee since you could just go get more whereas Will would most likely be at Jack's beck and call for the foreseeable future.

He looked a little lost for a moment, as if surprised by your kindness, before he pulled himself together enough to respond. “Likewise.” 

You gave him an encouraging nod and a wide grin before turning on your heel, filling out of the room with the rest of the group once you were all dismissed in order to get back to your desk and go about your usual duties, completely unaware of the way that Will’s keen gaze followed you as you went, his hand clutched around the cup of coffee you gave him.