#path to nowhere fanfic
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visibleclosedeyes · 2 years ago
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Comfort (F! Chief x Hecate )
Genre: Fluff
AO3
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It is rare for the chief to get some downtime for herself these days, and back then she thought not getting some sleep after one day was hell–she did not prepare herself for an almost two-day mission without any chance of her catching some shut eyes in between. Nevertheless, the mission was a success, and even though Nightingale suggested the chief start on her report immediately, she decided of her own volition that it could wait. After all, sleep deprivation does nothing good for her brain. So she called it a day early. 
There is a small bed in a room inside her office, which served its purpose of being an alternative bedroom when the chief couldn't make it to her apartment—which is every day now. It was commissioned by Adjutant Nightingale and approved by MBCC—and while humble, it is functional enough for the chief to not complain. One flaw though, it has no clock in it yet; so she can’t tell time. Like now that the chief suddenly brought back to the land of the wakings by unknown reason, how long she had slept and what time it is now she couldn’t tell, but the light that shine in and bathed the white wall at the foot of her bed was silver and cold—so she guess it is still nighttime.
Maybe she is dehydrated, maybe it’s nature calling.
She sighs and is about to get up from her bed, but then…her leg bumps into something—there is…there is something under her blanket. And then she also realizes just how unusual the ‘shape’ of her blanket is—her legs are flat down, they definitely can’t cause this. The chief pinches the blanket; her heart is racing faster than any Syndicate gang car—well, dying fucking sucks but dying in her bed by assassination sounds rather pathetic. But just before she could decide to do anything, the thing under the blanket speaks
“Chief…” 
The black-haired chief is completely baffled when she hears the voice of a girl she would recognize under any circumstances.
“Hecate??!” Chief’s half yelling and half whispering even though no one, at this god-forsaken hour would hear. 
The older woman is now frozen as the situation in front of her is simply just absurd. Hecate is, technically, on top of her–under her cover in the dead of the night. In a way, Chief is glad that it’s the gloomy pale blue-haired girl and not someone else as she trusts that the girl wouldn’t wish for her death. Still, this is wild.  The girl under the sheet shifts her position a little, the sound of friction between Hecate’s dress and the fabric of the cover is absurdly loud in a small dark room inhabited only by two people. The black-haired chief’s skip beats and breathing becomes hard labor despite not being in any immediate danger. 
Neither of them says anything as Hecate slowly rises from her awkward position—she climbs up from sitting at Chief’s legs to now planting herself on the dark-haired woman’s stomach. Right now, the room is too dark as a thick patch of cloud covering the soft, guiding moonlight—turning both parties temporarily blind in the dark. Still, Chief can see a dark outline that is now looking at her.
“ Are you alright, Hecate? How…did you slip past the guard?”
“ I can always find my way, it’s not like you can guard the vent in your room, don’t you?” Her voice seems shaky but doesn’t sound like she is nervous—maybe she is cold. But then it struck her. Chief just remembered that she…
“Hecate…”
“Yes, Chief?” The shadowy girl crooks her head a little with that question. The moon is still very much blocked by thick clouds—she can’t see the exact expression of Hecate.
“ I…” Chief swallows her saliva out of a defense mechanism again shame before continuing with her sentence.
“ I didn’t have any clothes on…” Dark-haired struggles with her words
“ I know that. Does…that make you uncomfortable? If so, please order me to leave you alone. I surely will oblige your order,” Hecate responds with the similar tone of voice she used everywhere, but…to Chief’s trained ears; she catches the small shake in Hecate’s voice. However, the chief is never that interested in the tone of her voice but only in the things she said. She will leave if I command her to—does that imply that if the Chief doesn't, she will stay? This… has to be against some sort of rules but…
As the thoughts run all over the dark-haired woman’s head, the moon that was previously held hostage by thick clouds has become free and shining its cold but benevolent light, painting the room with glowing light and banishing the dark. Hecate’s face has become clearer although still basking in the shadow made by her as she looks down at Chief while sitting on top of her. Nothing seems to be out of place except a hint of exhaustion that seems to be prevalent in her silver eyes. 
“Hecate…? What’s wrong?” Hesitate but still curious; the dark-haired woman asks the girl on top of her who hasn't yet explained a thing to her.
“Chief…I can’t sleep…”
“ Bad dream?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But now I can’t close my eyes” She keeps her voice low. Hecate lowers her head down, now the gap between the two is only a few inches away. What…should she do in this situation? But before she could respond, the pale blue-haired girl interjects
“When we were outside on our mission, I always had difficulty sleeping. That being said, it all went away when I slept next to you,” Hecate explains, she stops to find words for her thoughts while looking into the eyes of the black-haired woman in front of her. She is looking for a reaction, approval, or vice versa to decide if she should be pressing on. The chief remains silent while her light blue eyes look right into Hecate’s. With icy eyes like that, she should have felt cold running along her spine, yet the gaze of the black-haired woman felt like a gentle sun and summer breeze. 
Hecate averts her eyes for a moment, and her body shifts to the side of the Chief—her mannerisms are unassuming but without a hint of shyness. The bed’s surface next to Chief is slightly deflated as the young woman plants herself right next. The chief’s eyes follow but she doesn’t say anything. Despite the overwhelming silence that envelops the room, both of them don’t feel suffocated under the weight of silence. Hecate situated herself right next to the Chief with her face facing against each other—silver eyes reflecting the moonlight like a mirror leading to the realm of endless dreams. 
“You can stay, but you have to be gone by the morning, understood Hecate?”
“ Is it wrong, Chief?” Hecate’s icy doe eye looks right into the older woman’s soul, seeking answers beyond words and physical matters. Why did she have to ask it that way? 
“ No, it's just…a rule, sinners have to reside in their cells at night.” The Chief answers, but she isn’t sure if she answered what Hecate asked. Suddenly, a hand takes hold of hers—the fingers intertwined with each other, the Chief doesn’t say anything when Hecate takes her hand but her eyes follow them. She is surprised to know that the ashen blue-haired girl’s palm is rough and decorated with old scars. The Chief loses her focus again, feeling the roughness of the young girl’s hand until she squeezes the Chief’s hand with it. Blue and silver eyes lock into each other once again, and at that moment–the moon is at its peak and the light shining upon the sinner’s face amplifies the silver luminescence eyes even further. Glowing eyes seem to be a trait shared by many sinners. There’s something in Hecate’s eyes that makes the Chief’s psyche shift into an unknown state; a weird, confusing turmoil. While the Chief is all over in her own head, Hecate moves herself a little closer to the black-haired woman—bit by bit, until their noses are a few inches apart, and that seems to snap the Chief back to reality. Hecate stops for a moment, looking for any kind of resistance. When she found none, she continues until they share the same breathing air. Their lips are an inch away and–
“Chief,”
“May I?” The soft and monotone voice of Hecate usually stays calm in the most stressful situation is now visibly trembling–whether it’s from anxiety or desire, the chief really has no idea. She doesn't know if this is an appropriate thing for an MBCC chief to indulge in but the warmth that radiates from Hecate makes her heart shudder. Hecate is almost always colder than the environment she exists in—but not this time, or maybe she was always warm, the chief just realizes now. 
“You may," The chief answers, giving in to the need to indulge herself in the mutual comfort of the sinner. Hecate takes immediate initiative in closing the gap between them one last time. The chief feels the lips of the girl in front of her pressing onto hers. She breathes in a scent that weirdly reminds her of a rainy day, a mountain, and flowers; it’s a cold and sweet scent she remembered from the vision of those white flowers she saw the first time she met Hecate… if remembers a scent from a dream of memories is a thing that is. The warmth of Hecate’s lips makes the Chief slightly shudder as it contrasts with the cold temperature in the room. It isn’t a deep kiss, nor is it a shallow one but it’s certainly filled with doubt and anxiety. A moment later, Hecate withdraws her presence a little further away from the black-haired woman but the sweet and cold scent is still there. Hecate looks conflicted, she is in pain and she seems pleased. She looks at peace but is also scared of something. 
“Can I… sleep with you until I get better, Chief?” 
That’s… that’s not really appropriate for someone who is the Chief to do but... 
If it would make Hecate feels better then… 
“Fine, but next time inform me ahead of time if you’re gonna be here, don’t crawl through the air-con pipe again…” the Chief says with a defeated voice. Hecate’s lips slightly form a faded smile. Completely at peace with herself now. 
The Chief owes Hecate, for what she has forced her to go through in BR0004.
This is the least she can do, for the pain, she caused the sinner.
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unhappy-last-resort · 4 months ago
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This was so cute! I really liked the detail of Angell not having kissed someone before (god help that woman) and the smut is written alright, I think it could have a little more something to it, some oomph
Here are a few videos I watched on writing smut, I unfortunately don't have any articles atm if you would prefer to read instead
How To Write Effective Sex Scenes
8 Tips For Writing Sex Scenes
How To Write A HOT Sex Scene
How To Write Vivid Descriptions (this one is hella important, not just for smut, but writing in general)
I want to clarify that your writing isn't bad at all, I just think it could give a little more to be more immersive and exciting. Smut is really hard to write, there's this invisible balance between action and emotion that you have to find and there's no real standard way to quantify it, it's all vibes based and it honestly sucks. I remember when I first started writing these fics, I was so paranoid because I hadn't written smut before and I thought it was badly written, or just cringey to read; I wouldn't say that about the drafts I have now, and the one thing that saved me is writing more of it. You will never improve at something if you don't keep trying. You can hate your past work, or feel embarrassed about it, but at the very least, don't stop writing. You will improve over time and practice as you slowly start to find your style in writing and identify what you want out of any given piece.
So, go forth, write, read, experiment and have confidence in yourself! I look forward to reading your future works
ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕃𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣
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summary: you're a single mother who verymuch wants a partner once more, and by a stroke of luck, your daughter leads you to a very special someone...
contents: fem!reader x angell, no mania au, reader had a husband before meeting angell, age gap (reader is in her early thirties, angell in her early twenties), reader is very obviously thirsty, some fluff, finge.ring, cunn.ilingus, transfem!angell
word count: 4.1k
author's note: this got so out of hand. i wanted just 1k, maybe 2k. this is my first fic in this blog and it's just showing how whipped i am for angell. good god. i am currently in my era where i wanna be a milf, so you get that this time, but maybe one day, the reader will fuck milf!garofano. maybe. also this is my first smut ever ever sooo feedback? feedback tonite queen?
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things hadn't been going so well after your divorce, to say the least.
you have full custody of your daughter, yes, something you're eternally grateful for. a steady job, a nice place to call home, your beloved daughter, for all intents and purposes your life is as perfect as it gets!
but after 5 long years of marriage with an uncaring husband, one who you weren't sure you were attracted to to begin with, you find yourself feeling remarkably lonely. the touch of another, something that's been so scarce for so long, and simply knowing someone treasures you… your heart desperately longs for that. specifically, you find yourself craving a woman before a man, but as no one comes along, it's a somewhat fruitless thought.
alas, while you're a single mother, you enjoy the parenting side quite dearly.
after an uneventful shift at work and a stop by your daughter's school, you're heading back home with her holding your hand, the usual commute for the two of you for the past year or so once the divorce was finalized, though today you've taken a bit of a detour due to some construction work in your usual route. from the corner of your eye, you spot an ice cream vendor and smile to yourself; your daughter's been behaving rather well, it'd be nice to give her a treat today as a reward. “wait for me right here, alright?” you tell the little girl with a smile, then walk over to buy a popsicle for her.
barely a minute passes between leaving and coming back to your daughter, yet when you turn to face her, she's already walked away from where you left her. alarms blare in your head in less than a second, though as quickly as terror arrives, it leaves the second you spot her a few ways away, from where she calls out for you.
“mama, look! the nice lady has a kitty!”
still on edge, you approach your daughter and the woman who's crouching beside her while holding a cat. “hon, i’ve told you to not approach strangers-” you begin with a frown, though your eyes focus properly on the woman besides your daughter. her black hair with its white highlights, the leather jacket and her tank top, though it's not long enough to cover just a bit of navel that peeks out above her jeans, you can see her toned abs even as she crouches… quickly, you force your eyes to meet her golden ones, lest this stranger realize you're absolutely ogling her in broad daylight.
thankfully she doesn't notice, and if she does, she doesn't say it. instead, this stranger stands up to face you properly, making you realize just how much taller she is than you…
your daughter calling out to you curiously is what truly snaps you out of your stupor, and you nervously chuckle to yourself while handing her the popsicle you bought for her.
“s-sorry, i hope my daughter didn't inconvenience you,” you say to the unnaturally handsome woman.
she shakes her head lightly, then glances down at the cat by her feet. “don't worry, it's no trouble.”
while your daughter is delighted to be eating her ice cream, she still looks at the taller woman with a glint in her eye. “mama, can i keep playing with the lady and her kitty? pretty please?” your child begs between licks of her ice cream, and it's hard to say no to that sweet face and those puppy dog eyes. (part of you is glad she took after your side of the family entirely in the looks department)
“you can play with the kitty hon, but make sure to not bother the lady,” you warn with just a hint of firmness in your voice. with a happy cheer, your daughter goes on to pet the black cat, who doesn't seem to mind if his loud purring is any indication. the stranger before you smiles at the sight, a tiny grin at best, and you feel something in your heart throb at the sight.
…you realize you're acting like a lovesick schoolgirl as a grown woman, but you push the thought as far away as possible.
“seems he likes your kid. he's not this nice to most people,” you hear her say, which brings your attention back to the situation at hand. your gaze follows hers and you see your daughter, her popsicle partially melting in one hand while the other continues to pet the cat like he's the world's greatest treasure, and your quickly-developing crush is pushed briefly to the side, instead letting your heart focus on the adorable sight.
smiling, you nod your head. “she likes cats, though we don't have one right now.”
“hm. this one's clingy when he wants to be. usually he waits around this spot for me to come home from work.”
“oh, is that so?” mentally, you think it might be nice to take this route more often.
and that's how you first meet angell.
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the more you get to know her, the more of a mess you realize she is.
the two of you chat for a few minutes at the end of each work day while your daughter plays with angell’s cat, a new addition to your peaceful routine. while you talk about your hobbies and your work sometimes, angell tells you she's a delivery worker for a well known restaurant here… but when you learn about her dietary habits, you don't know whether to pity her or be flabbergasted. it's a wonder she's a healthy and fit woman if she's always eating foods that may very well be expired by at least a month. it's quite the juxtaposition between her workplace and her actual food, which baffles you even more when you realize she's paid really well for a delivery worker.
it gets to the point where you start making lunches for all three of you, though you give angell hers at the end of each day. the first time you gave her that container with something as simple as pasta with some fried chicken on the side, yet the way she looks at you when she sees it… “for me?” she whispers with wide eyes, and you forever commit to memory the way her expression turns tender and fond and her cheeks flush. it's a herculean effort to not kiss her.
something else that's made you weak in the knees for this woman is that, much to your surprise, she starts playing with your daughter by letting her hang from her biceps and even spinning around with the child holding onto her, to your daughter's delight. it's become something that your daughter adores, and when she's laughing brightly and angell thinks you're not looking, you see the way the taller woman smiles softly at your child, only to become pink at the cheeks when she realizes you're watching her. angell is usually a rather stoic woman, so the rare sight of her being so bashful is one you realize you want to see more often.
at one point, you decide to invite her for dinner, something your daughter instantly cheers for. angell looks shocked at first, but she smiles and agrees with ease.
the three of you then walk back to your home, all while your daughter chants happily. “miss angell’s stayin’ with us! miss angell's stayin' with us!”
it's… nice. you didn't expect angell to be good with children when you first met, but this almost feels perfect.
when you arrive to your home, your daughter is quick to head back to her room to change from her school uniform, so with a fond sigh, you set your coat in the nearby rack and turn to angell with a little smile. “would you like to help me cook dinner?”
“i… i would like that,” angell replies in a low voice. this is the first time the two of you are alone together. hearing her voice like this, so smooth and deep… part of you wonders if you'll live past tonight.
angell takes off her leather jacket and puts it beside your coat, which prompts you to stare at the ground intensely in order to avoid gluing your eyes to the newly uncovered skin of her arms and shoulders, and the way her muscles move… focus, focus!
the two of you settle on making red bean soup at your suggestion, and it's a relatively easy affair with two pairs of hands working, even if angell's movements are clumsy and you gently have to guide her.
your daughter comes out of her room a few minutes later, and she's all smiles as she watches you and angell cook, though she quickly distracts herself by watching cartoons in the living room.
once more, you focus on the meal you're trying to prepare and the quiet woman you're trying not to kiss silly.
when you two are done preparing the soup, you move to grab three bowls so you all can eat while angell stirs it a bit to check its consistency. “it smells nice,” she murmurs.
“that's good to know,” you reply with a little smile, so focused on the bowls you're holding that, when you turn around, your front accidentally bumps into angell’s, and you remain close to her due to the kitchen's somewhat reduced space.
from this distance, you can see angell's golden eyes widen a fraction and her cheeks flush slightly, though your focus is more on the way her toned abs and her chest are flush against your own body, which makes your own cheeks redder than a tomato. your noses are almost brushing, and your eyes wander down to her soft lips.
“you're warm,” you hear angell muse quietly, and with a little squeak, you step back and turn away before even allowing yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss her. faintly, you can almost hear her chuckling.
dinner is served a moment later, and soon, angell, your daughter and you sit together for a nice dinner, though the little glances you and angell exchange feel too charged to focus on anything but the taller woman.
midway through your dinner though, the sound of rumbling thunder crashes above your house, prompting your daughter to shriek fearfully and you to jump as well, while angell simply frowns. the sky had been clear during the trek to your home, but to think a storm was coming? just a few seconds later there's the sound of rain as well, slowly growing from a light drizzle into a heavy downpour. it's some hell of a background noise, something that puts your daughter on edge and makes you frown at her reaction.
angell, as always, surprises you though. “hey, it's okay. your mom and i will keep you safe from thunder,” she says with a totally straight face.
“r-really?” your daughter asks, clearly doubtful.
“yeah, really.” angell smiles at the girl and adds, “i'm strong enough to keep the two of you safe. that thunder won't come close to you, ever.”
your daughter's eyes widen at angell's confidence, and with that reassurance, she resumes eating her dinner happily. the sight, coupled with the gentle way angell reassured her, makes your heart feel light; you love seeing the two of them bond like this.
dinner happens uneventfully after that, though the rain remains as heavy as before, even when it's your daughter's bedtime. you reluctantly tell angell to wait for you in the living room while you tuck the little girl in for the night, worried about what the two of you should do now.
you refuse to let angell walk back home under the rain though.
“the storm doesn't seem to be letting up,” angell comments when you come back, her expression annoyed at the sight of the rain hitting the windows of your home.
it's then that an idea pops up in your mind, and before you can stop yourself, you open your mouth and say, “you could sleep here for the night.” hastily, you add, “i-if that's fine with you, of course.”
angells seems caught off guard at first, though her expression shifts into the smallest smile as if she were… shy? “i’d like that. better than walking under the rain.”
smiling to yourself in both relief and delight, you take angell's hand and guide her to your bedroom, realizing that her cheeks turn a slight pink when she notices where you're headed. the sight is beyond adorable and makes your smile wider.
in the bedroom, you rummage through your clothes trying to find something that angell can use as sleep wear, eventually finding an oversized sweater and a pair of loose shorts, though the sweater seems to fit angell's form just fine once she comes out of the bathroom wearing your clothes. she smiles when she notices you staring, though you quickly tear your gaze away from her form.
you take your own combination of a long-sleeved shirt and shorts before heading to the bathroom to change as well, then come back out to find angell sitting on your bed, as if waiting for you like an obedient pup.
“should i sleep in the living room sofa?” she asks before standing up to face you.
“oh, no no, we can just share my bed!” you say cheerfully without thinking. a mere millisecond later you realize what you just said, and your cheeks go red at your own suggestion.
angell, bless her, simply smiles. “alright. it is kinda cold tonight,” she remarks.
while you still feel bashful about your faux pas, this response is one that makes your heart skip a beat.
when the two of you get under the covers together, there's a bit of a distance that separates you from angell, though she sighs softly before inching closer and wrapping her arms around you like it's nothing, somehow. your eyes go wide and you feel your cheeks grow warm, and from this distance her golden eyes draw you in, just as they did when you first met.
“is this alright?” she asks almost nonchalantly, but you've grown used to her, you think. the underlying nervousness and shyness in her tone are not some product of misplaced illusion.
“it’s… more than alright.”
“…good.”
she holds you close, the rain still falling as little more than background noise, and the two of you simply… lay together. you allow your eyes to scan her face, even though you're both supposedly going to sleep now, and manage to catch her eyes traveling down to your lips, then flickering back up as if she didn't want to get caught.
so it's mutual, you think as a little smile rises to your face. “how about we stop this little game, why don't we.”
it's adorable how her lips form a little pout, clearly showing her puzzlement at those words, though all confusion flees when she feels your lips against hers, and instead you're rewarded with a quiet, soft grunt before her lips move in tandem with yours. your hands go down to hold her waist as she kisses you, and in return angell's hands rise to tangle her fingers through your hair.
she's inexperienced, you can tell by the way her teeth clash against yours sometimes, but that doesn't change how heavenly angell feels, how gentle she is despite clearly wanting to do even more.
at this point though? you're both equally desperate.
you pull away, just a few inches, and she's already whispering against your lips, “can we do more?”
you want to feel scandalized, almost. she's barely started kissing you and she already wants to do more, and yet… “i… so long as we're quiet,” you reply in a hushed whisper, but that's all it takes for angell to kiss you once more, though there's a hunger to her motions that goes entirely unrestrained now.
“you make my heart all… crazy,” angell murmurs against your lips, then pulls away to start leaving open mouthed kisses across your jaw, then neck, and soon she's silently asking for permission to lift your shirt by playing with the hem of it. you nod almost too eagerly.
angell takes in the sight of your bare front as she lifts your shirt up, and while you feel self-conscious for a second as you think of your stretch marks and extra weight, she's quick to reassure your insecurities in the way her lips continue their sloppy journey down the expanse of your skin, stopping at the valley of your breasts to nip and kiss at each tit.
“you're beautiful.”
“so… stunning.”
“you taste so good.”
if her mouth weren't working wonders across your body, you'd pull angell up to kiss her silly once more.
your hand tangles itself in her hair as she keeps going, and you bite your lip to avoid gasping loudly, for her mouth has wrapped itself around your nipple and god, she's driving you crazy.
the very tip of her tongue circles your areola, the sensation too much and yet not enough at the same time, before your grip on her hair tightens the second angell starts flicking the bud of your nipple properly, then she presses her tongue flat against the sensitive skin. she's not inexperienced, you realize, simply needy, hungry, eager.
angell lets go of your nipple with a quiet pop, and it's then that you realize she's pulled your shorts and underwear down while you weren't paying attention. “a-angell?” you call, though you want this as much as she does.
she hums curiously in response, and her lips kiss down your navel, until she's right next to the place where you need her most, where she plants a soft kiss to your inner thigh and makes direct eye contact.
“n-nevermind. carry on.”
she chuckles, the little devil. “thanks, babe.”
oh, you're going to lose your mind.
angell then dives right in, delivering almost teasing licks to your lower lips like she suddenly wants to take her time with you, uncomfortably akin to a cat playing with its prey. while she teases you with barely any pressure, you throw your head back, because this is still the first time someone has touched you like this in a long time.
and yet, it's everything you need. she's everything you need.
it takes her a few minutes, but suddenly, angell's already pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt, and this time you actually have to cover your mouth to avoid letting out a loud cry. angell takes it as a sign to be even more bold, and soon she's wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking while her fingers move in and out, then press down and curl right up against that gummy spot that has your toes curling in an instant. you realize she's started to grind her hips against the bed, but by god, you cannot focus on anything that isn't her mouth and fingers.
“god, angell, please-” you whimper quietly, only to muffle another moan when she increases the pace of her fingers, pumping in and out with a squelching noise. you can feel angell smiling as she lets go of your clit, as if she were savoring each reaction she gets out of you.
“don't worry, babe. i’ve got you,” she rasps against your drenched folds, the vibrations absolutely adding to the stimulation that's already making you bite your hand just so you can remain quiet. between that and the way her fingers fill your pussy, she's making you see stars.
your back arches while angell eats you out, but the second you let out another quiet gasp, she pulls away her mouth and fingers as if she could feel you were close to cumming.
angell chuckles at the way you whine, feeling empty now that her fingers don't fill you up anymore. “sorry, i just can't hold back anymore. really feels like i’m going crazy,” she whispers as she rises up from between your thighs.
you curiously raise an eyebrow, but before you can ask about what she means, angell pulls the shorts you lent her down. her dick is hard, tip red and coated in precum, clearly showing just how riled up eating you out has left her.
your eyes widen at her size, though you quickly realize angell almost looks nervous now, and that's enough for your expression to soften instantly.
“c'mere, honey,” you prompt gently, and the second angell leans down with her torso hovering over yours, you pull the sweater she's wearing off of her, leaving her bare for you to see in all her glory.
while she seems genuinely embarrassed at first, all it takes for her to relax is you gently cupping her cheek. just like that, those golden eyes you love so much gaze at you with lust and affection once more.
her chest, soft and pliant, presses against yours while the tip of her cock brushes against your cunt in a way that leaves you both eager for more.
“i'm going in now. last chance to back out,” she whispers against your ear.
“sweetheart, please just hurry,” you beg a moment later. angell holds back a soft laugh at just how eager you sound, and she decides she's done teasing you for tonight, just because she finds you cute.
you let out a soft sigh before gasping against her neck. angell grunts at the same time, slowly and gently pushing her cock inside you and filling you up in a way that feels wonderful. she shivers above you, breathing ragged and warm against your skin, and you wrap your arms around her back.
she lets you adjust, because this woman is as sweet as she's quiet, whispering about how good it feels, how you take her so well, how warm and tight you are around her cock.
soon the feeling isn't enough, and you whisper with utter need, “please… take me, angell.”
“i'd love nothing m-more,” she replies in a breathless murmur.
she pulls her hips away until the tip of her weeping length is the only thing that remains inside, then slams herself right in like it's natural for her, dragging a startled gasp from you due to how intense it is, how intense the pleasure is. you're quick to bury your face into your pillow, biting it to avoid letting out too loud a noise while angell does her best to keep her groans and whimpers quiet.
“god, you feel s-so tight,” she says while thrusting her hips into yours again, her pace slow yet hard. it's like she wants to focus on your pleasure, yet her own hunger drives her into increasing the pace of her hips.
soon she's relentless and almost growling against the skin of your neck, her hands gripping your hips almost possessively while she thrusts her cock in and out of you. all you can think about is her, her hands on your body, her lips on your neck, angell, angell, angell.
at one point, angell grips the back of your knees and pushes them back against your chest, all while thrusting relentlessly against your body, and the pleasure is already coiling in ways you hadn't even felt before in your life.
“i'm close, ‘m close,” you gasp while trying to stay silent, yet angell makes it so damn hard as she grunts against you.
“go ahead. let go, please, cum ‘round my, please,” she begs, and it's obvious that this song and dance of yours was going to end like this from the start.
with a strangled gasp, your mouth falls open and you cum around angell like she so eagerly pleaded for, leaving a white, frothy ring around the base of her length in just a few thrusts. the sight makes angell let out a sound between a grunt and a whine, and she bites down onto your shoulder before pulling out and stroking herself to completion, cumming all over your tummy while quietly gasping against your skin. the bite only adds to your pleasure, even with the slight pain that follows.
once she's done milking her own cock, angell flops down on top of you and lets go of your shoulder, her breath coming out in tired pants that match your own uneven breathing.
you let her lay there gladly, going as far as to stroke her hair before pressing a kiss to her forehead. angell hums at the sensation, then pays you right back with a kiss right on the center of her bite mark.
“be my girlfriend?” she asks, sounding satisfied yet drowsy.
with a tired little giggle, you continue to run your fingers against her scalp. nuzzled against you like this, she once again reminds you of a cat.
“you did it a bit out of order, love.”
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lanibijou · 8 months ago
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Had this vision in mind ever since Uni’s skin came out, NOW HEAR ME OUT WITH THIS AU-
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kkartist · 3 days ago
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Hello, I am now in deep for Path to Nowhere that I ended up writing a fic. An idea popped up in my head of having Coquelic & L.L interracting. As it won't leave me alone, I wrote it down.
Summary: LL's pet dog, Cabbage, slipped away in the night. So, the Sinner went out to find him. Journeying through the MBCC's hallway, she met someone else alongside the puppy. Little did she know that the encounter would lead to bathing with the Garden's Mentor.
Tags: LL & Coquelic, LL & Thistle, Coquelic & Thistle, Coquelic & Garofano, LL (Loreley), Coquelic, Sumire, Garofano, Cabbage, Bathing, Nudity, SFW, slight angst for LL, LL social training arc, Coquelic being wise, Coquelic being a tease, grandma Coco moment, LL being a disaster, LL going through it, Thistle is good baby, Blink and you miss it Thistle/Christina, mentioned: Luvia Ray, Serpent, Eleven, Shrooma, Cabernet, Chief (gender up to reader)
Word count: 3,804
You can click on this link to read on AO3.
Or continue reading it here.
Baby Steps
Notes: Spoiler to LL’s interrogation. Recommend to read LL’s interrogation/backstory before reading this. Minor spoiler to Flora Unfurl. This is my first fic for Path to Nowhere. The game ticks so many boxes for me that it’s now my favorite gacha.
With careful measured steps, the young woman treaded the hallway. Water dripped from the tips of her long blue hair and the edges of her white dress. Droplets forming onto the floor. Body brought low, head forward, and eyes focused. People would think she was a rookie agent from the 9th Agency.
Cabbage slipped away moments ago. After an instance of panic, LL made a decision. Splashing herself with hopefully enough water, she embarked on a mission to find the dog.
Luckily, the puppy left behind a trail of little paw prints for her to follow. All thanks to her bathroom, which was constantly wet. She prayed he didn't disturb anybody this late at night. Receiving complaints would be dreadful after she promised to take care of him.
She could now hear his steps. Those signature tiny patters and the little clang from the experimental prosthetic. Cabbage was near. She continued her pace in the direction until she saw the little creature with someone.
Anxiety kicked. LL immediately hid behind one of the large pots of red flowers lining the hallway. She peeked, trying to discern the scene. The person was crouching. Cabbage seemed to be reaching for something behind them.
"No, this is not for you. It's for Mentor," a young woman's voice. Cabbage whined.
"Sorry, I can't give this to you. But maybe, this will do?" She took something out from her pocket. Then, with her teeth, rip the wrapper apart.
Recognizing a treat, Cabbage jumped, tongue lolling out. He stopped a moment later and sat, his tail wagging. The change went unnoticed. "You can eat now, little guy," said the young woman, her hand offering him the food. Cabbage let a small yip and ate. His tiny tail continued swishing. "Good boy, someone trained you well huh?" she petted his head.
LL didn't recognize the person.  She’s 3 months in and her social circle didn't expand much. Chief was one of them, but busy schedule and constant kidnapping meant they didn’t hang out as much as she wanted to. Luvia Ray and Serpent made light hearted small talk to her on the few occasions she managed to venture outside. As much as she wanted to talk more, her condition didn’t allow her to be out of the tub for long. So, she had to excuse herself every time. Eleven helped during her offline transition but they didn't continue talking after the social obligation was done. Or it was more that LL didn’t know what to say to the radio personality beyond that.  It was nice of her to lend the device though and LL loves her show, the soothing voice never failed in helping her sleep. There’s Shrooma too. She was most comfortable talking with the little girl as they always met virtually. However, her curfew and school meant limited hours. From their conversations (or Shrooma’s rant), being a kid sounded tough. LL enjoyed listening to her regardless, imagining herself in situations she never got.
Getting to know other Sinners had been a challenge. Her social anxiety and disability were a sure recipe for loneliness. Five in 3 months out of 100+ Sinners currently contained within MBCC was an abysmal achievement. From the five, there’s two she could confidently call her friends. Wait. Scratch that. Maybe just one. With most of her time trapped in a tub, her version of getting to know, was reading Sinners' files from the Bureau's database.
Mentor. Mentor. Which file was-
"How long are you gonna hide there?"
LL jolted. Her head peeked out before diving back behind the flower pot.
"Hey, I know you're there," the voice got closer until it's beside her. "Is this dog yours?" The little dog trailed behind the person's feet.
"Cabbage!" At this, the dog ran towards LL. Picking him up eye level, LL's face fell victim to his licks. She pulled away, staring at him sternly, "Don't run off like that again, Cabbage. It's late and we don't want to disturb our neighbours. Now, say sorry to the nice lady," she placed Cabbage back to the floor then looked up at the young woman.
She wore multiple braids; bangs covering her left eye. The lower half of the hair is pinkish red while the upper stays natural black. Earrings decorated both ears. Her sleeveless crop top was adorned with a red bra. Flower tattoo visible on her hip. The slitted uneven skirt laid bare to the expanse of her right leg, if not for the fishnet stockings providing some kind of cover. The feet protected by a comfortable studded dress shoe. Tough yet elegant were the impression LL thought of.
Cabbage walked towards the black cladded woman. He stopped by her foot, his tiny face pressed against her leg. Then, with all the cuteness he could muster, he looked up with his sad puppy eyes. Her lips curled into a smile.
"No worries. He was very nice and friendly. I wouldn't mind playing with him again!" She glanced at the puppy before shifting her attention towards LL, "Don't think I've seen you before."
"Oh sorry! I'm LL," she offered her hand.
"Thistle," she replied, shaking it.
"Like the flower?" LL asked aloud.
"Yes, like the flower."
LL cringed at herself. Whatever was that?? Why didn't she thank her for Cabbage? Right, thank her. She should thank-
"I should go, Mentor's waiting for me,” their hands separated. “Nice meeting you, LL. Maybe next time, I can bring my dog too! Night!" Waving goodbye, Thistle walked away.
LL saw her leave. Not wanting to miss her chance, she rose and shouted, "Wait!"
But what came was a cry. She felt pain, like someone struck her legs with hot iron. Her muscles seized. She fell to the ground like a stranded fish. No no no no! She screamed in her mind.
Jaw clenched. Eyes hazy with tears. The fire spread through the rest of her body. She couldn't move her limbs. Defenseless and alone, her mind raced to one thing. She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to-
"Hey hey hey. Stay with me," the friendly voice came back but now laced with worry. "What do you need? Tell me."
LL gathered her strength to open her mouth. "Ba...a...th"
Thistle nodded. LL felt her body being lifted up then moved at a fast speed. They entered a fancily decorated room filled with plants. Passing a large canopy bed covered with flower petals, Thistle beelined to a door.
“Mentor, it's an emergency. A Sinner is in need of the bath, please can you let us in?"
The door opened, a woman with long black hair stood behind it. LL felt heat permeating from within. Thistle wasted no time. She entered and LL felt her body being lowered.
Warm water touched her skin. Slowly, the fire was extinguished. She found her limbs working again, the muscles relaxing. Pain ebbed away, replaced with exhaustion and relief. In between breaths, she croaked a thank you.
Thistle exhaled, "Thank goodness."
"Sorry," LL said weakly.
"Don't be. I'm glad you are alright."
"Yes yes. Crisis averted." A voice interrupted them. 
Thistle froze. She turned her head. LL followed suit.
Two other women were in the room. One sitting on the edge of the pool. She wore a simple white shirt paired with a wine colored long skirt. Her wavy purple hair loosely tied low, cascading down her shoulder. Legs tucked underneath, comb in her hand, she was brushing the silver hair of the woman soaked in the water. Compared to her attendant, the other woman's skin was sickly pale, the veins visible under the light. Like beads of blood on top of snow, her piercing eyes were unnerving. And they were directed at Thistle. LL found herself becoming alert.
"Thistle, where is my present?" The pale woman asked sweetly.
"A-about that Mentor..."
"Yes?"
"itfell..."
"Can you repeat that?"
"It fell."
"So, go and pick it up."
"It’s... in the water."
A beat. They stared at each other.
"Then pick it up still! I don't want it to seep into the bath!" The Mentor shouted in disbelief.
Thistle dived immediately. Not long after, she climbed out of the water with a box in her hand. Her head bowed deep, pressed to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Mentor! I accept any punishment you deemed fit."
The woman sighed. She lifted her head, "Garofano, see if it needs salvaging." The woman behind her stood up, picked up the crumpled box, then left the room.
LL felt herself shrinking. She rarely received help after her parents left. But every time someone did, it just further reinforce how much of a burden she is. And now, the person that saved her was going to be punished. Why is she always so weak?
"It's my fault," she spoke up. Those reds drifted to her. "Please don't punish her. I... I can buy you a new one. Or I'll leave. Right now. If that's what you want. I'm really sorry."
The woman thought for a moment. "Will you accept the punishment in her stead?"
"I... Yes..." LL felt uneasy. What if she asked Chief to cut her internet time? She would miss that online auction event happening tomorrow! She needed that personal cutlery set belonging to Ms Cabernet. Calm down LL. Deep breath. It was an accident. Maybe she just wanted money.
"Take off your clothes and stay."
LL's mind grinded to a halt, "Sorry?"
"You heard me. It's bad manners to take a bath while dressed," she replied matter of factly.
LL blinked. Okay, this is... unexpected. Embarrassed but wishing to save Thistle from this predicament, she did what was told. The soaked dress now placed behind her.
Satisfied, the Mentor turned to Thistle who was still bowed, "Thistle, take that to dry. Then, go change."
"Yes, Mentor." Thistle stood and followed the set of orders. After that, she sat where Garofano was, continuing the task she left behind.
A knock. "Mentor, it's me."
"What's the matter?"
"A puppy is currently waiting in front of the bathroom door."
"Cabbage!" LL recalled the momentarily forgotten puppy. The Mentor looked at LL. Her eyes squinted just a little before she answered, "Come in, but don't let the dog in my water."
The black-haired woman entered, Cabbage in her arm. After closing the door, she walked towards LL. The long wide sleeves of her lilac sabrina dress cascade on each of her sides, flowing gracefully as she moved. The wide black belt around her waist accentuated her already long legs. Sophisticated and refined, her steps were slow with purpose. She knelt beside LL, head bowed slightly in greeting. Her silky hair curtaining her face, past her ribbon collared neck; its length reaching onto the ground. Then, she placed the puppy by the edge of the pool, near his caretaker.
Cabbage licked LL on her cheek. "Don't worry, lil’ buddy. I'm fine, see? Now keep away from the water, alright?" LL assured him. Cabbage let a small bark.. He turned around, jumped to the other woman's thigh, and laid on top.
"Sumire will take good care of it," the Mentor spoke.
"Oh that’s..." LL looked back. She immediately shifted her gaze, face heating up. Realization struck. The woman was also in a state of undress.
She had seen nudity. The internet was full of that. However, a moving image or virtual reality had a sense of distance. And that’s the scope LL was familiar with. Experiencing it with someone else offline was a different matter entirely. The situation just made her more self-aware where to place her sight. "I... uh... um... thank you," she finished abruptly.
LL kept her head away from the Mentor. From her peripheral vision, she saw those scarlet eyes burning her side. She shifted her arms around, trying to shield herself. Her body submerging bit by bit.
"Relax," a whisper. Sumire was looking at her softly, Cabbage already asleep on her lap. "We have no intention in killing you."
Kill? Where did that come from?
"That's...not what I’m worried about."
"Then why so skittish girl?" The Mentor chimed.
"I...um.... " She stole some glances towards the woman, blushing. ".... inexperienced?"
Laughter burst free from the Mentor. Chest heaving, mouth opened wide. The sound reverberated in the chamber, echoing throughout. It lasted for a minute until it gradually came to a stop. She wiped the corner of her eye with a finger. Her eyelids opened delicately. She looked at LL for a moment, grinning. Then, she stood up.
LL eyes widened. She twisted her head away so fast she heard a crack. Her pulse beat rapidly from the sudden exposure. Things just happened one after another so quickly that her heart felt like it's going to pop.
Suddenly, she felt a caress on the side of her jaw, applying enough force urging her to turn. Her sight immediately landed on the plains of toned stomach, a small scar crowning the navel. The Mentor’s petite body towered over her, arms pillared on each side confining her in. Realizing what had happened, LL gathered all her willpower to instantly shift her focus to the woman’s face.
The silver haired woman smiled knowingly.
"You can look. I know I am irresistible," her red eyes gleamed.
"Who knows, maybe next time…" she licked her upper lip, showing sharp canines.
"I’ll let you touch them," she purred to her prey’s ear.
LL felt her body temperature rose exponentially. She blue screened, her brain overheating by the seductive force inflicted on her by this unearthly beautiful woman. Face flushed to ear tips, mouth agape, she was unresponsive.
"Mentor, please don't tease her," Thistle's voice came from behind.
The Mentor backed away, cackling, "I can't help it, she's so adorable! Reminded me of my little Thistle back then."
"No, I wasn't!" Thistle exclaimed.
The Mentor sank back at her spot.
"Ah yes, all the things in that bath seemed so interesting to you. Eyes darting from one decoration to the next." She put the back of her hand on her forehead, sighing   dramatically, "I felt so lonely waiting for you to start lavishing my skin! If not for Sumire, I would’ve wilted from the lack of attention."
"Meentooor!" Thistle's face went red.
A giggle. LL tried to stop herself but was too late. The sound had slipped after she witnessed the exchange. She shut her mouth immediately, afraid of offending anyone.
"Now, now, don't hold back. Laugh your heart away,” The Mentor gestured towards the room. “After all, flowers grow best around them."
LL studied her surroundings. Flowers of different colors have bloomed beautifully. Red, white, yellow, purple. The walls were covered in them. The petals decorated the surface of the pool when they fell. Ripples expanding from the touch. Combined with the wood panelling surrounding the edges, it’s reminiscent of a framed painting exhibited in an art gallery. 
The warmth of the water. The tranquil undulation of its surface. The breathing of others. They felt alien.
To her, a bath is a necessity. It's a constant reminder of her disability. Her relief and pain. Her cage. Connections rust and break in it.
But here, she uncovered something. Sumire was gently petting the sleeping Cabbage. Her face, serene and calm. Thistle focused at work. Hands deftly handling the silver hair laid out in front of her. The Mentor's eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. The space fell into a comfortable silence. She felt peaceful. Like waves caressing the sand, it alleviates the ache within her heart.
"This is.... nice," LL broke the silence, surprising herself.
"Isn't it?" The Mentor replied. "It's nothing compared to what we had but, it's adequate."
"I just never..." LL’s mind wandered to her apartment. Her parents. The letter. "It’s... been a while since I had company."
The Mentor tilted her head, eyes opening slightly.
"I mean..." she let out a weak laugh. "Who would want to be stuck with me?"
LL's doubt and fear were out. A question compounded by years of trauma and oozing with self-hatred had cracked the atmosphere in the room. She silently cursed herself for ruining it.
"Flowers are beautiful. Many things in nature gathered around them," LL recognized the owner of the voice, she looked across. "Among them, those that seek harm. Parasites, for one," the Mentor glanced sideways, as if recalling something.
"They are dangerous when left be. Consuming life, little by little by little. Until there is nothing left. Then, they move to another. That is why it's important to deal with them quick." Her voice, light and decisive.
"However, there are those that help.” her expression softened. “Who diligently and attentively nurtured the flowers with patience. Rain or shine." She lifted her hand, a red flower, similar to the ones planted along the hallway, sprouted out of the open palm.
She set the blossom on the water. It floated and drifted away, charting the water’s surface, bumping to other petals along the way. She then looked at LL in the eyes, giving full attention, "You are in a richer soil now so choose well. When you see what you want, remember to grab it with your own two hands."
LL took a moment to absorb the words. The Mentor smiled. She stood up again which prompted LL to turn her head away in reflex. She heard a small laugh before the Mentor spoke, "Thistle, Sumire, escort our guest and her pet back." Footsteps, then the sound of an open door, "Pleasure to meet you, little fish."
-
LL leaned inside her bathtub. Her eyes reading the message she had typed on the terminal. It was only one sentence. A question. Yet, it took her the better part of the day arguing with herself whether the content was good enough or not.
It had been a week since then. Within that week, LL participated in the online auction, wondered if what happened was a fever dream, and then did her research. Finding all the info she needed wasn’t hard. The hard part was reading, compiling, and verifying them. Those were, unfortunately, not covered by her power.
The Garden, an all-women assassination group. Their involvement was extensive. The most notorious happened almost a year ago, that being The FAC serial killings and kidnapping of their director. All the handiwork of one individual. The Garden's current leader: the Mentor, Coquelic.
Fearsome, powerful, intimidating, selfish, hedonistic. These descriptions seemed fitting for the alluring woman. Yet in that bath, she witnessed a contradiction.
Is that why the Garden members followed her still? Why they were willing to feed into her selfishness? A yip snapped LL’s thought. She chuckled, “Okay, Cabbage, I’m doing it.” She needed to finish this task, lest she fell to the reprimand of the little puppy for the second time. It should have been done days ago but she set an important treatment for herself after she was outbid, it's called shopping.
A ritual of self-encouragement later, she checked her terminal for the fifth time. Still the same message. Searching through her contact, she inserted several names intended to be the recipients. Then, she reread the message for the sixth time. All good. LL took a deep breath. And press send.
-
"That was surprising. What you did the other day, Mentor," Garofano expressed.
"Our Thistle was the one who asked. I couldn't say no, could I?" she replied.
"But you let a stranger stay in the bath."
"I did let strangers stay before."
"Those were marks."
"Yes, seeing their face twisted into horror was so delectable."
"The scrubbing wasn't."
"I did reward all of you for a job well done, didn't I?" Coquelic retort with a faux surprise. Her fingers curled around her cup, eyes narrowed in distaste, "My tea is cold."
"Of course, Mentor." Garofano took the cup, emptying its content to the teapot. She then placed the pot on a mini stove. Coquelic watched, one arm supporting her head.
“Where’s Thistle?” asked Coquelic.
"She mentioned a gathering," Garofano answered, her focus on the thermometer she just inserted.
They were in Coquelic’s room. There was a setup with a round table and 5 chairs surrounding it. Cafeteria exists in the Bureau, but it was a public space and the style was uninspired. Here, Coquelic and her flowers made it to resemble a small replica of the Garden. A perfect place for a gathering of ex-assassins. At the moment, only two chairs were filled.
"Mentor,” the purple haired woman broke the silence. “If you miss her, you should let her know."
"I don't know what you are talking about," came a nonchalant reply.
The thermometer beeped. Garofano watched the numbers increase on the display. When it reached a certain point, she turned the fire off. After preparing the cup to be sufficiently warm, she poured the tea and served it to Coquelic.
Coquelic lifted the cup. The temperature was exactly how she preferred. Garofano did a wonderful job preparing the present Thistle bought for her. The salvaging was surprisingly minimal too. Thistle must’ve requested additional layering inside. 
Fragrant aroma wafted to her nose. She sighed in satisfaction and sipped. The liquid warming her body.
"Garofano."
"Yes, Mentor?"
Coquelic set the cup down to its saucer. Face reflected on the surface; she stilled for a moment. "Tell Thistle to come by tomorrow. Her tea brewing still needs work." She paused, "She could even bring that axe wielding barbarian if she wanted."
Garofano smiled, "Of course, Mentor. I'll let her know." 
-
The bar reached 100%. Photos appeared on the display. LL looked at each of them before stopping on one. She was in a portable pool along with five others.
Thistle was hugging a dog. It’s fur wet, tongue hanging out. Months ago, she found it in the Bureau injured. She was currently taking care of it until the wound fully healed. Serpent had a brown snake around her shoulder. She wanted a brightly colored one but was rejected by administration because their venoms were a danger to others. She relented after some persuasion from the Chief. Shrooma held a terrarium of mushrooms. Her lecture of why they’re considered pets still made LL laugh even now. Luvia Ray and Eleven didn’t own any pets. That is why, Manty was positioned between them so they wouldn’t feel left out when the picture was taken. Then there was her, right in the centre. In her arms, was Cabbage, the little pup that started everything. All of their expressions gave evidence to all the fun they had that day.
Ping! The notification stole LL’s attention. A message appeared in the group chat, a cute sticker accompanying it. Replies bubbled one by one, coalescing into a conversation. LL hovered her fingers over the keys. She smiled. The tub doesn’t feel as small anymore.
-
End notes:
Thank you so much for reading this fic! The idea of having these two interacting won’t leave my head so I got to do my due diligence. More content of Coquelic is never wrong.
I love Coquelic. She lives rent free in my head. I was analyzing her character like an unpaid researcher until an idea popped up. Coco loves taking a bath and you know who is always in the bath? LL.
LL has an interesting backstory that got revealed in the last chapter of Into the Blue. And, it also got locked away behind interrogation. Which honestly, I think was quite a shame. But it's gacha. I get it.
So, I'm putting the two of them in the same bath. As Coco is THE Mother of all time (or grandma), I thought LL could hear her wisdom so she can experience being guided and/or teased by a maternal figure in a way. The wisdom being related to LL’s situation.
I headcanon LL’s social training arc took longer. Because even though the interrogation did give a line about LL being more outgoing like her online persona, the duration it took wasn’t exactly mentioned. Let’s just say this moment happened after her offline transition was complete. So, talking directly is alright but she still has problems with making friends. Hopefully Coco’s interaction with LL feels believable as it's set up to be a push for LL.
Fun fact! My first impression of Coquelic was: I don't like her, such a fan service character. I read Flora Unfurl fully expecting to like Shalom cos lots of people sang praises for her. But Coquelic stole the show instead. This caused me to roll for her. Then, I read her interrogations. I cried and now, she is my favorite character. So, big round of applause to the writer (Dumpling Duck/Guo Tie Lao Shi). You changed me as a person.
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Path to Nowhere: Cults, Cultures, and Cants project.
Cults, Cultures, and Cants is a fanfic worldbuilding project between me and some friends on the internet. It aims to deepen, expand, change, and add to the lore and setting of the Path to Nowhere gacha game, where the world is ending and hope gives way to mania, from the streets of DisCity to the white sands deep into BR-000 and beyond, as I, the creator, see fit.
Some things to expect of this project:
Cults: Sinners will have the ability to form "cults" by bonding with anyone of a certain mindset. Not unlike the chiefs Shackles. This system will strengthen the abilities "Patron" Sinner and grant new ones to themselves and their "Acolytes".
Cultures: This project will go deep into the nitty gritty of cultures, subcultures, and counter cultures that form within this setting, including their symbols, values, norms, and works.
Cants: Due to the effects of spiritually bonding with a patron, certain speech patterns within the cult will warp and change to the point of being unintelligible between members of one cult, another, and the mainstream cult that is DisCity. In reality, this is due to me, the creator, being a conlanger at heart and always looking for a chance to cram conlangs into any setting I get my hands on.
This is first and foremost a passion project. Anyone interested in this should not expect too much of it. However, I was never meant for the mainstream fandom anyways and love going my own way, so do expect to see some potentially risky (but still safe) head-canons to come into play. Other than that, I look forward to sharing this with you all and, hopefully, get some feedback and ideas from any and all of you who might be reading this.
< - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - > < - >
Editor's note: I changed the name of this project to Cults, Cultures, and Cants. This is purely for aesthetic purposes and that I love the alliteration.
I bolded the beginning of each explanation to separate the two and tie them to the title of this project.
I have also added some tags to better reach out to the community and have this circulate.
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morningstar27 · 1 year ago
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Zoya x FEM chief
These few days you've been dispatching your sinners for a while since you do need a lot of materials as the mbcc are lacking now.
You don't have a problem dispatching as your sinners do it immediately and finish it in no time so you had your focus on the paperwork that was sent by the higher ups.
Suddenly a knock on the door was heard as you told them to come in and assume it was nightingale with more paperworks for you to handle but you stop doing your works once you heard a different voice.
"Still working with those damn paperworks huh"
It was sinner Zoya as you were more surprised that her dispatch was already complete when you just dispatched her not long ago.
"Zoya, that was quick"
"I told you my guys in the legion will take care of it in no time"
"I see..so that's why it's done already"
As expected she ask her guys in the legion to handle it as you went back to work and thought Zoya just came here to report that she's done but eventually she still stayed but you didn't take your eyes off the paperworks on your desk.
You heard her footsteps coming towards you but didn't pay heed as you continue working.
"Hmm~ that's a lot of paperworks"
"The higher ups sure won't give me a break"
"I can tell by how bunch of papers is on your desk"
She said and suddenly saw her hands that was still wearing her claws as she slid her fingers on the papers on your desk.
You were getting suspicious on her behavior as she was trying to act like she cares on the paperworks but you knew she's here for something else.
You brush it off by focusing on the paperworks again as you continue handling it without paying attention to Zoya as you can feel her gaze at you.
Just then she lean down to the side as you can see her on the side of your eyes, she was looking at you alright but you kept your eyes on the paperworks.
Zoya then slightly scoff as she smirks then suddenly slid her hand through your face which made you stop working as she made you look at her as she turn your face to the side.
"I know you had your suspicion on me when I didn't leave yet why do you act like you don't?"
"...."
Zoya just smirks and lean close attempting to kiss you when suddenly someone called you which you immediately cover her face with your hand while you took your phone and stood up when you heard nightingale as she was reporting something to you.
You stood on the side and Continue talking with works while Zoya just look at you with amusement in her face as she lean back up and slowly walk towards you.
You didn't notice her presence as you kept talking with nightingale and even sigh since it's more work for you.
Just then you felt an arm wrap against your waist as you turn to see Zoya wrapping her arms around your waist to which made you flustered a bit but kept yourself composed.
She then slid one of her hand up to your neck as she pulled your turtle neck down a little which made your neck exposed to her.
Without hesitation she attacked your neck with kisses and bite marks which made you squirm and covered her mouth again with your hand as you push her away while you glared slightly at her because your still talking with nightingale on the phone.
"I'll call you back, nightingale"
You said and end the call as you turn to face Zoya who was smirking at you.
'"what's with you?"
She didn't respond and smirk as she lean down and brush her nose on your neck while she started wrapping her arms around you again.
She started kissing your neck again as you got flustered while you held her shoulder firmly. She then move up and kiss your cheek then went to kiss your ear as you close your one eye and tried pushing her but to no avail.
"Zoya, I still have w-work mhm~"
"You've been paying attention to your work for these past days and it's making me rather lonely"
"H-huh?"
She suddenly carried you as she held both your thighs and pinned you against the wall as she started kissing you which is rough as you squinted your eyes.
"Z-zoya- hah~ w-wa-"
She kept cutting you off through the kiss as she was always this aggressive to kiss. After a while she pulled away as you were catching for breathe while she just look at you with amusement.
She gave you a quick peck on the lips as she buried her face on your neck.
"You could just ask me when you want company.."
"You didn't even pay attention to me earlier so how am I gonna tell you?"
"....well at least try instead of... nevermind it's not like this is the first time you did this.."
She suddenly chuckled and kiss you again but this time gently as you just let her as you started wrapping your arms on her neck.
"10 mins Zoya then I'll go back to work"
"That's quite short.."
"Work is work"
"...."
You sigh and peck her lips as you caress her cheeks.
"You can have all my attention once I'm done with work"
She look at you for a while as she sigh then nod.
"I'll hold you to that"
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her-reidiance · 8 months ago
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Hey, I wrote a fic about Langley x Fem!Chief. Please enjoy.
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yuridose · 6 days ago
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1 REQUEST OPEN (0/1)
( ASKING / TALKING OK ! )
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welcome 2 my blog ! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
my name is agape, and i’m incredibly new to writing… (so bare with me ♡)
my intention w/ this blog is to show my love for my favourite characters && franchise (path to nowhere) … and maybe get better at this new hobby of mine !
♡ more general/ab me info below cut ♡
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ABOUT ME ♡
like i stated before my name is agape! i am 18 and identify myself as a girl-flux femme lesbian ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ you may refer to me by she and they pronouns !
i am also a yumejoshi ~ with my main yume being cinnabar ♡ i like and feel most comfortable writing about her… however , i’d love to write for any (female) PTN character, and i also plan on doing so.
ABOUT THIS BLOG
i will for now be writing exclusively about PTN/path to nowhere, as this is my main fixation and favourite franchise as of now.
as well i’d like to state i do not use uppercase letters , and also that english is not my first language… so excuse any bad wording/grammar.
nsfw? not by request (for now at least) as i feel insecure in my ability to write it correctly.
when requests are closed it’s always okay to ask me about other stuff or just talk to me ! i consider myself pretty friendly? i like making friends and talking to people in general, tho replies/answers may be slow as i do struggle with a bit of social anxiety and tend to overthink my response….
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DNI… CIS/HET MEN , zionists , ed/sh blogs , PROSHIP , homo/transphobic , basic criteria ykwya ..
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unhappy-last-resort · 1 month ago
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Only In Aphotic Hours
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Fandom: PTN (Path To Nowhere)
Genre: Yandere, smut, angst
Main Characters: Cinnabar, GN Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
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Warnings: Dub-con, fingering (reader receiving/giving), oral (reader giving), lesbian situationship, reader has a vag, Cinnabar is being weird, pre-established relationship
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It's cold.
That's the thought that echoes in the empty halls of your tired mind as you stare at your ceiling fan spinning tiredly above your bedroom. There's a metal rattling sound from the other end of your apartment, probably someone going up the rusted stairs. You rub your eyes more roughly than you should and turn to look at your alarm clock, red numbers glaring 1:10 A.M. at you and reminding you that you had work in a few hours, and more annoyed at your early wake-up.
Your fingers tap at the duvet cover as you consider what to do. You stayed up too late this past weekend- waiting for someone who never showed- and you really, really need your sleep. Tea. You'll get some tea, it'll warm you up and hopefully relax you enough to go back to sleep.
With a grumble, you sit up pull a blanket around your shoulders, and stand, wincing as your feet hit the floor and the chill spreads into bone. Sure, you could, in theory, turn off the fan, but you know if you do, you'll wake up covered in sweat—the joys of living in a shitty apartment building.
You hobble down the narrow hallway, the only thing that stood between your bedroom and your kitchen— save for the tiny bathroom tucked into the end of the hallway and right in front of your bedroom door— really, your "apartment" was just a straight line with squares attached to it. You ignore the AC that you knew wouldn't do anything no matter how you fiddled with it, and enter your kitchen; flipping the switch and blinking as yellow light floods your vision.
The one thing you could be thankful for is that the cramped living situation allowed you to see everything immediately. The kettle waiting on your stove, the tea you always use sitting on your counter and tucked against the wall, the coat rack crookedly screwed into the wall, there were no hidden surprises in your place. Everything is as it's presented to you, as you last left it.
You flick the stovetop on and huddle back into a corner of your cramped kitchen, staring absentmindedly at the darkened sky that shows through the large— too large, in your opinion— square window on your door. Maybe if you lived high enough to see over the neighboring apartment building, you wouldn't mind it so much, but you don't and you hate how you sometimes get the feeling of being watched when you're in here. Actually, you've started noticing the peculiar itch of eyes on you even in your bedroom too. When did that start?
There's another, subtle rattle of the metal stairs outside and you still, the quiet buzz beneath your skin telling you to listen. There's a rumble of laughter in the distance that seeps through the walls, and the sound of someone's AC kicking on, but not that distinct rattle of rusted metal you'd come to know. Sure, it could be someone in your building staying out late, maybe getting a breath of fresh air, or looking at the deeply unpleasing view of the dirty street and alleyways below.
You're probably overthinking.
You stared at the tiled floor, it's uncomfortable and icy to stand on, most of the year you don't care, but as you start to smell the snowy tendrils of oncoming winter in the air, the sinking dread of facing another winter alone in your apartment, trying not to freeze as you shiver beneath every blanket you own consumed you. What you wouldn't give for an escape from that torment.
Huh. Escape.
You always dreamed of escaping Syndicate, of going to better, higher places away from the filth and violence that permeated your life like swelling warts, but maybe you've already given up on that dream, or maybe you didn't. Maybe that's why you latched onto her the same way a drifting soul in the sea latches onto a piece of rotted, broken wood from a ship. You believed she could bring you to safety with her loving smiles that brightened the world, her strong arms that held you tightly in the night, her eyes that glimmered like ocean waves, mysterious and gentle as they wrapped around you and coaxed you into the depths of warmth.
You hated the way life would freeze and dull when she wasn't around like spring flowers breaking from the Earth only to realize it was still snowing. You lived for the momentary warmth and unspoken promise of care and safety she brought into your world. You ached for it like a sunflower aches for the sun to shine its light over the horizon.
A loud slam of a door comes from beneath your feet and a tremor runs up the walls. Water bubbles inside the kettle and the metal stairs creak and shake with each heavy step the person on them takes. The man who lived below was old and angry, you'd always hated going down the stairs each morning after a certain incident. You still remember what it felt like, standing on the stairs, hand gripping the railing as you gaped at the window, a black box where hatred and anguish had coalesced into a person staring back at you, the surroundings unfurling like a blooming rafflesia, simultaneously drawing your attention to the-
Door knob rattling.
It's slow, the swing of the door followed by the cold sweeping in and wrapping around your ankles, the boot landing heavily on the small bit of wooden floor that marked a difference between the entrance and kitchen. The tall figure slouching through the doorway, yellow, cracked goggles flashing in the yellowed kitchen light. Matted, wet, black and blue hair sticking to each other; dirty jacket, white shirt, stained brown.
It's her.
Warmth is undercut with the prickly cold of fear, bunching in your veins beneath joy and settling over your shoulders, crawling up your neck, and wrapping upwards to meet your ear. It's different, something's wrong. It whispers feverishly, tugging at your nerves to run back into the box of your room- away from warmth.
She yanked off her goggles and dropped her shield on the floor, the loud thud making you flinch before she started tugging off her jacket. This is…Well, normally, she knocks and says who she is and almost tip-toes her way in, like she was afraid of disturbing the air you occupied despite your attempts to break the delicateness that wove itself between you. She always treated you like something that could be easily destroyed without her realizing, like carefully crafted lace that could fray if rubbed the wrong way, like the very bedsheets you rested on were holy.
This- as you watched her drop her gloves onto her jacket on the floor instead of putting them on the coat rack- was, careless. The most reliable member of Serpent Eye, who always did her job, who was always sweet, and kind, and warm, and cautious to the point it hurt; was being careless. The cold around your neck held tighter and your heart sent a shudder that ran to the pit of your stomach, blossoming into warmth that bubbled in your veins.
"Cinnabar!" She looks at you instantly, her blue eyes wide, and your voice comes out unexpectedly loud and excited. You wince, but she just smiles and you continue, being careful to set a casual tone this time. "I didn't know that you were coming." Is everything okay?
She pauses, sticking her tongue in her cheek before leaning down to untie her boots. "I had an errand to run here and thought I'd make up for the missed date." She glances up at you with a sheepish smile, shy and cheeky- mostly the latter. "It was last minute so I couldn't text you."
You hum, rubbing your thumb into the flesh of your upper arm as you watch her. She'd usually at least knock before coming in, in fact, there was only one other time she ever showed up unannounced and it wasn't like this with her boots printing reddish-looking mud on your floor.
Maybe it was the shitty apartment lighting or the midnight sky that shone through the door's window and framed her face, but her eyes seemed to share the unending darkness of the night- and you are at its epicenter.
She smiled, the corners of her mouth upturned in a familiar way, the stretch of her lips that you'd seen before, the crinkles around her eyes in their expected place; but something about it settled unnaturally in your stomach.
"Hey," She says softly and takes one step forward, one step closer to the threshold between the entryway and the kitchen. "I'm sorry if I startled you." She dropped her shoulders and bent her knees slightly, quirking her head with a wry smile as she carefully stepped her way toward you. Maybe she was trying to appear smaller to you, but it feels like you're about to be pounced on. "I just...really wanted to see you." She's past the kitchen sink now. Her fingers twitch as she drags them over the countertop.
She's close enough to smell now, smoke, gunfire, and something tangy that tickles your throat. You don't know when you were caught in the corner where the counter and wall meet, but Cinnabar's in front of you, the sheen of sweat highlights the muscles flexing beneath her arms as she places them gently on either side of you, the wall creaking behind you.
Your breath is caught in your throat the same way your eyes have been captured by hers. You can feel her breath brush against your skin like a bubbling inferno that spreads throughout every inch of your skin and ignites with an ache to burn.
"Is that alright?" She whispers, but it's so loud it's the only thing you can hear. It's the only thing that rings through your mind, ricocheting off walls and silencing the cold that was on your shoulders, sealing it somewhere deep beneath your skin.
You can feel one of her hands inching toward you as she tilts her head to the side, her smile patient, gentle, and a little needy as it always was in the moments before you'd find yourselves tangled in each other. Yet you could tell something was interwoven in the texture of her skin and the fire behind her lashes, something that seemed insatiable and greedy. "I don't…know?"
She chuckles, her Adam's apple bobbing in her throat. "Flustered?" She leans in and cups your cheek, glancing at something off to the side for a moment. "Don't worry, just think of it like last time."
A tense beat of silence and then the kitchen light is snuffed out with a click and her lips are on yours in the same instant, feverish and sloppy and unlike any other time she kissed you. You're left reeling, grabbing at her shoulders as she drags you out of the kitchen.
Her kiss is rough and consuming, suffocating in ways you didn't know she was capable of. Her starting kisses were never like this, never did she part your lips with her tongue so eagerly, never did she hold you, hostage, against a wall with her fingers prying at the edges of your shirt with too much eagerness for precision. It was never like this, but it has never been more intoxicating than now.
You could stop her, you could pull away, but as you push her into the closet door of your hallway, you feel her smile against your lips as your hands drift and squeeze at her ass and thighs- why should you stop?
She pushes you in the direction of your bedroom, finally slipping a hand beneath your shirt and wrapping it up your back to keep you upright as you both stumbled your way in the dark, reluctant to let your lips separate farther than a breath as if you might disappear if she can't hold you and keep you close.
Your knees catch the edge of your mattress and your lungs are burning for oxygen as you both crash onto the bed and she finally lets you breathe. You stare at the fan spinning overhead, perpetual and ordinary, as Cinnabar's calloused fingers hook the band of your pajamas and pull it down. You hear her sigh as you come into view and she swipes two fingers over your wet folds, before dragging them up to tease your clit. That's not ordinary- it's a special occasion, it always was. You wish it was ordinary.
She leaned over you, resting her forehead against yours and despite the bubbling pleasure that slowly spread through your veins- your hips bucking into her hand, you found your eyes solely focused on her face, on her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, and the oceanic blue of her irises which were usually gentle and patient had a frayed sense of restlessness you couldn't place your finger on.
She didn't let you think of that for long as she slipped her fingers down, pushing into you gently and curling your fingers, before dragging them up to your clit again, her lips pressing kisses into your neck.
She moves to suck at a spot just beneath your jaw before she lifts her head and kisses you softly. You hold each other's gaze as soft moans fall from your lips and your hands wander to cup her breast, kneading and pulling at the soft flesh. Her other hand drags up your arm and intertwines with yours, pulling it away from her breast to kiss your fingers, her eyes staying locked on yours as she leans in to gently bite into the tender flesh of your wrist.
She tore her gaze away from you to her fingers, smiling softly. "You always feel so nice to touch." She looked at you again and you were rendered breathless with how much adoration she held within her eyes, like it was pouring out of them in a thick sludge that threatened to choke you.
"I've never stopped thinking about you since we met." Her pointer and index finger move in a slow, circular motion, now she suddenly wants to take her time to appreciate you. "I was just…"
She takes a deep breath, her voice sounding unnaturally frail and small. "I was worried you'd get hurt." She shifts, cupping her free hand against your cheek and tracing your features. "I couldn't stand the thought of that, but I also couldn't live without you."
"Are we doing this now?" In a way, it's everything you ever wanted from her and it also couldn't be farther from it. You had tried so many times to have a meaningful discussion about this and she always answered with a sigh and a kiss before leaving your bed cold.
Her eyebrows twitch downwards, bunching the skin on her nose, her lips forming a sad, thin line. She looks like she wants to say a lot, but instead, she forces into a smile so painful looking, you don't want to look at it.
"Look, I…" She waits for a while, choosing her words carefully before sighing. "I know I haven't been the most transparent." Her fingers rub your bud languidly. "But, I promise things are going to be different from now on." She slips her fingers down in between your folds, pushing them as deep as they can go and spreading her fingers apart. "Trust me, okay?"
She smiles as she pulls her fingers out, lifting them enough for you to see them glittering with your arousal in the moonlight before she pushes them back in again and rubs your nub with her thumb as you gasp and squirm on the sheets beneath you.
She leans in and you feel her breath, hot against your skin, before she closes her lips on your neck and bites into it. You tug at her tank top mindlessly, wishing she would've taken it off earlier as your hand's fumble upwards, feeling the soft firmness of her abs, one hand tangling into her hair as the other pulls her shirt up. You can feel her muscles shift beneath your touch, her heart pounding so loudly you can feel the tremors through her skin.
Your head rolls to the side, catching your own hazy eyes in the mirror, watching as the muscles in her neck flex as she works to leave a hickey on your skin- something she always does when she visits you and that you always admonish her for when you have to go to work the next day.
You watch as she pulls away from your neck with a wet pop and turns her head to look at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin on her lips.
She leans forward, lips ghosting your ear as she keeps her eyes on your reflections. "Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby." She whispers huskily. "Don't look anywhere else."
You squeak out a hum of approval and she chuckles airily. She drags your pajama shirt up until your chest is exposed, you watch her lick her lips before she leans down and flicks her tongue over your nipple. You gasp with a jolt and you feel her smile against your skin.
You swallow as you watch her lips close around your nipple, and her fingers begin to slide in and out of you, her thumb brushing your clit as she goes up to her knuckles in you. Her tongue rubs against your nipple in a circular motion as she sucks on it as if it's her favorite thing in the world.
Your back arches and your hands find themselves in her hair as her teeth drag over your nipple, her fingers curling to reach that spot at a brutal pace that puts stars in your eyes, the coil in your stomach tightening until your thighs start to shake and-
Your arms wrap around her, feeling the warmth of her body kiss your skin through her tank top. She releases your hardened nub and moves her hand up your back to cradle your head, making you look at her in her dilated eyes and wetted lips, feel her hot, shallow breaths on your face as your hips roll to meet her fingers as she curls them to hit that spot.
The dark room gives way to a blinding all-encompassing, white, accompanied by the press of her lips on yours as your orgasm stains her fingers.
She only pulls her fingers out when your breath evens and puts them in her mouth, sucking them clean. "You did a good job." She whispers as she pulls you into a hug and lays down.
Your breath softens into quiet, heavy breaths as your consciousness is returned to its body. You feel the dampness in the sheets beneath you, the smell of sex in the room, the brush of air from the spinning fan, and the distant sound of cars somewhere outside.
Cinnabar lingers, nuzzling into your neck as if she felt the same euphoria you did. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid her fingers out and you watch as she pushes them past her lips and sucks them clean.
She smiles at you again, teeth peeking through as she lays down next to you, a kiss on your cheek and a red glint hidden in the depths of her pupils. "I missed hearing you like that." She thumbs your cheek, breaths mingling together in the small space between you.
Warmth, joy, and safety, are what you choose to associate her with in your mind, and you want nothing but to embed your roots in her skin and sear yourself into her heart. Entwine your existence with hers so she can't leave you frozen and alone-"Then why don't you stay?"
Her smile falters for a fraction of a second and another hairline crack goes through your heart and creates another rift in your soul and her warmth retreats faster than you can stop her.
"I forgot something." Your hand misses her arm as you reach out. She disappears into the darkness beyond your doorway without another word, the cold air stings you and dives beneath the skin to ripple through bone.
You plop your head against the pillow, staring at the ceiling fan as it continuously spins as if nothing happened. As if you weren't just left alone again by the only person you'd ever shared your bed with.
Every time she leaves, you feel a part of you goes missing, like each time she visits she carves into you and doesn't give back the pieces. Maybe you should just end things. Cinnabar is the description of a perfect potential partner, but ever since she came into your life it's been rough waters, choppy seas, and stormy nights that leave you empty in its wake.
You weren't sure what you were hoping for when you…well, now that you think about it, you never really agreed to this, did you? Maybe that's another reason you should-
"Hey, sorry for leaving you." She whispers and you hear something heavy and metal being set on the floor- right next to the bed. "I just really needed to get something." she nuzzles back into your neck and sighs.
Your fingers twitch at your side, tiny fractures sting your fingerpads, hesitation filling their gaps as you slowly raise your hand to reach over her side and you turn until you're both facing each other.
Your fingers ghost over her cheek and trace her faint smile that grows a little wider at your touch and down the center of her neck- Adam's apple bobbing with a swallow- and down the divet of her chest, over her abs, and stop at the belt of her pants. She watches your hand as it slowly undoes the belt, her hand drifting to squeeze your hip while you work to open the fly of her pants.
You bite your bottom lip as you get a peek of hair splayed in every direction and her white, low-rise panties. You tug, revealing the divet where her hips and stomach meet, leaning down to cradle the small mound hidden between her legs.
You slip your fingers down, watching them disappear as you follow the heat and dampness leaking through her underwear, you can feel your finger parting her folds and you curl it slightly, smiling as she sucks in a breath next to your ear.
You roll your finger, feeling that hard little nub through the fabric, a growing itch in your throat to bury yourself between her legs until she shakes and cries for you. Until she begs for you not to stop in that heady, breathless voice until she tugs your hair and pulls you in deeper with her legs until you almost suffocate from her.
You sit up and her grip tightens on your hips. "Stay close to me." She tugs you forward until you almost fall on her, a hand gliding down to your thigh to push your knee in between her legs. "I wanna hold you."
You sigh and watch as your hand drags up the side of her hips and latches around the hem of her top. "Fine," you lean in until your noses brush against each other, her soft pants brushing over your lips. "If that's what you want." This time, when your hand travels up the expanse of her stomach and cups her breast, she doesn't stop you. Instead, you feel her hips softly grind against your leg.
Her lips feel soft against yours, she opens up and allows your tongue to slip inside, tangling in each other as you palm her breast. You can hear her breath get heavier between kisses, feel her heart race in your palm, and taste her hunger on your tongue.
She's hot, her skin is hot with a light mist of sweat as her hips roll more fervently. You kiss from the corner of her lips to the cut of her jaw, to the tender flesh of her neck. Her pulse beats in your lips and you catch it with your teeth as Cinnabar writhes in delight beneath you.
Her fingers grab at the plush of your thighs, your name on her lips as her fingers find your folds once more.
You gasp as her slender fingers toy with your bud and your hands move to rub her clit through her clothes. You find yourself grinding on her leg as you suck languid spots of her neck, feeling the fabric dampen with each movement of your hips.
Her breathing starts to run ragged and she pauses her ministrations with the slightest hesitance to yank her pants off, finally growing tired of the barrier between you— which you gladly assist her with.
You move back and slip your hands beneath her knees, holding her legs apart as you take her in. Her half-exposed chest rises and falls with every breath, her eyes now half-lidded and completely clouded in a smokey haze that watches you with a barely restrained eagerness, the divets of her hips that glide down to the band of her white panties.
You lean in, eyes locked on each other as you place a kiss on her clit, watching her breath hitch as you slowly drag your tongue up the velvet part of her folds.
Your lips close around her bud as two of your fingers slip inside. "Oh my god…" She gasps and throws her head back, writhing her hips. "Yes, please, right there!"
You thrust your fingers in sharply, smiling at the stilted moan she lets out and her pleading, watery eyes. You swirl your tongue around her clit as you set a fast pace with your fingers.
Your name falls from her lips, the pitch getting higher each time as she mindlessly grabs at the sheets and pillows.
"Please, please...Yes!" Her hips jerk up, eager to draw more pleasure from you as slick builds on your fingers. You curl your fingers upwards and watch her eyes go wide before her lashes flutter as her eyes roll.
You feel her muscles twitch and pull away just enough to see how her swollen folds glisten. You pull your fingers out and replace it with your tongue, pushing it as deep as you can go, grinding your nose into her clit as she grabs fistfuls of your hair, her body curling upwards as her moans and whimpers of your name become more desperate.
You feel the telltale stutter of her hips and tremble of her thighs before she even says anything and you bury yourself further in her, lungs beginning to cry for air as you work your tongue further and further in until she suddenly jolts and a new, warm liquid coats your tongue.
You pull away, panting as you lap up her climax. Sweet and salty, just like you remembered. Did you taste the same to her? Or would she know certain notes and undertones about you that no one else would?
"Oh…" She mutters under her breath, slowly blinking at the ceiling. "Thank you. Fuck I needed that so much."
You hum, more entranced with how her muscles would twitch whenever your tongue brushed over a certain spot.
"Hey," She grabbed your hair again and gently tugged you up to look at her, her hair a mess and lips bitten raw, voice raspy between her chuckles. "Let me breathe for a moment?"
You wipe your chin and cheek as you crawl forward, ready to spend the night cuddling until she— you don't wanna think about that. You just want to savor this moment, this moment that wasn't infrequent enough to be rare, but is just far enough apart to make you crave her presence, her voice, her touch. Her very existence has been memorized on your heart, little engravings on the muscle that ached constantly.
She caught your lips in a kiss so slow and soft and deep you felt your thoughts scramble and shatter, only focusing on the dance the dance and pull she invited you to indulge in. You open your eyes as your lips separate for a moment and find hers looking back at you, watching you, drinking you in as if she can't get enough of what she sees. Does she always kiss you with her eyes open?
She breathes into you, soft and melting as if you were made for each other as if the place you belong is in her arms and on her lips. A hum, a final note in your union as she rests her head on your shoulder. Your fingers comb her hair, gently detangling it as you pray for sleep not to take you— to allow you these few hours of the night to relish in her arms around your hips so tightly it almost hurts. It almost hurts.
It's a slight numbness that's accompanied by the distant hum of cars that draws you to sleep in her arms. Praying once again, that this time— this night, she'll stay until you wake.
Golden rays shine into your tiny bedroom, lighting up the otherwise bland room in a hue of yellow that invites you to stay conscious for just a moment. To appreciate the new day before you remember to dread it. You groan and stretch your arms, hissing when you move too much for your sore muscles.
Like every morning, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through your various social media. Nothing unusual, but a post catches your eye.
It's a public announcement. It says,
Warning all civilians, wanted Sinner—
Cinnabar's lips find your neck as her hand covers the screen, turning your head toward her only allows her to find your lips, her hips pressing against yours. Unlike last night, the kiss is gentler, still eager and still speaking of an appetite not yet fully sated, but she was taking her time in tasting you.
"What do you say," She mumbles between kisses. "We go on a trip somewhere? Together?" She pulls back just enough to let you talk, not enough to let you see anything else but her.
"A trip…?" Going on a getaway with her. It's a dream come true all too suddenly, but letting the dream go feels like eating coal.
"Yeah, just the two of us." She smiles forlornly. "Maybe a nice cabin in the woods for a few weeks?" She traces the side of your face and you see that restlessness again in her eyes. "It'd be nice to be surrounded by nature."
You thought about it. About the life you've lived amongst concrete dirt and brick trees, of the people who treated you like a rat more than a human, and about the life you could live, with her— if even only for a few weeks amongst dewy air and crunching leaves. Alone with no distractions.
"Sure, just let me pack—"
"No need." She smiled and placed a soft kiss on your nose. "We'll have everything we need there, you don't need to bring anything."
"But—"
"Shhh, relax. I'll take care of you. I promise."
More kisses, more gentle touches, but her nails dig slightly into your skin and her teeth nip at your lips. When she sat up to press your wrists down into the sheets, fingers bruising, you saw that night in her eyes again. The endless, wanting, encasing, drowning, darkness that eclipsed her pupils—
It was a thing beyond love, beyond care, a thing that seemed not to hold you, but to own you. To encase itself inside you and rot your heart until you cannot tell where love ended and obsession began.
Perhaps what's worse than that, than the subtle thought she communicated through her blunt nails painfully pressing into skin, is that you went lax and doe-eyed, that you returned her rewarding kiss with fervor, that you let her mark and marr your skin again.
Perhaps the worst thing of all is your loneliness.
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sleepyfaequeen · 2 years ago
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MASTERLIST
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masterlist: still processing..
rules:
No neko reader(just don't/Kitsune allowed)
No scat
No piss
No vore
No younger age x older(no underage romance)
No degrading (there's a limit)
No, I can't do male character x male character/reader(some people are blessed with that writing type, plus it's been awhile since I've been able to do that).
I don't do character x character
If I take awhile to reply just know I'm busy. I have a life so just chill out a bit. I'll get to you when I get to you.
When requesting, please let me know what you want. Be as descriptive as you can. Let me know if you want a headcanon, one-shot or story. I'm doing my absolute best to satisfy you're eyes with my writing so don't be afraid and let me know.
Word count: it's a lot of words, you'll get more than a few paragraphs.
Things I will write:
I write for fem!reader (she/her pronouns)
Related to character prompts
Fluff
Smut/NSFW/Lime
Pregnancy
Periods
Angst etc.
Au's/modern
Crossovers
Fandom List I write for:
Overwatch
Jack Morridon/Soldier76
Gabriel Reyes/Reaper
Ana Amari
Mercy/Angela Zeigler
Genji Shimada
Hanzo Shimada
Symmetra/Satya Vaswani
Moira O'Deorain
Ramattra
Zenyatta
Sombra/Olivia Colomar
D'va/Hana Song
Widowmaker/Amélie Guillard
Junker Queen/Odessa "Dez" Stone
Sojourn/Vivian Chase
Kiriko Kamori
Niran "Lifeweaver"
Genshin Impact
Xiao
Diluc
Kaeya
Childe
Zhongli
Dead By Daylight
Onryō/Sadako
Huntress/Anna
Michael Myers
Trickster/Ji-Woon Hak
Artist/Carmina Mora
Path to Nowhere(every character but the young ones)
Bayonetta
Pokemon Violet
Final Fantasy 7
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visibleclosedeyes · 2 years ago
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Wife material, idc fucking fight me about it
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shoujingshen · 1 year ago
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First Path to Nowhere fic!
It focuses on Dreya’s journey to the Illusory Moon - I really loved the themes of eldritch, lovecraftian horror in the recent event and tried to capture it here.
Hope you enjoy reading!
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unhappy-last-resort · 3 months ago
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ELEVEN !!!! MY WIFE !!!!
Alright then here's the scenario..It might be kinda shitty since im not a very talented writer and eleven could be OOC but enjoy 👉👈
PS:it might be slightly different from the one i sent to Inou since i decided to add some more stuff while writing this.
"Sweet angel think you can take another round?You wouldn't want to disappoint so many people, would you?" *Eleven softly cooed as she snapped her hips against yours,the plastic dildo sinking in deeper as she did so.Despite her always promising you it would be the last it was never the last,you lost count of how many times did Eleven made you cum on her strap,you been doing this for what felt hours.Eleven snapped you out of your thoughts by grabbing your chin in between her fingers and turned your head to look at your right.* "There's so many people watching you now,you wouldn't want to disappoint then right doll?" *She purred,her soothing and soft voice sending shivers down your spine.The computer that was filming the two of you showed how Eleven was straddling your hips, smiling softly with a hint of amusement in her eyes.Comments cascaded down at the side of the live that were mostly asking for a change of positions or were thirsting over what was happening.* "They want me to keep going..Can you take another round for me,my pretty girl?" *Eleven asked while caressing the back of your head tenderly,oh boy,you were in for a long restless night...*
Anon, this is wonderful oh my god. Unfortunately I do not know much about porn livestreaming, but I tried! :D
Short smut under the cut, minors DNI
Warnings: Exhibitionism, Eleven uses a strap.
Your mind was on the verge of shattering.
Your senses were sent into overdrive, leaving no room, no place for anyone else, anything else but Eleven, her voice filling your mind and leaving you barely coherent, while her strap moved in and out inside your weeping cunt with clear, wet noises. Every moan from your lips, every thrust and desperate call for your lover to help push you over the edge was captured for thousands, each detail sending the enthusiasm of the audience into soaring heights.
It felt like hours, yet, aside from a sheen of sweat on her brow, Eleven was still eager, still full of energy as she sheathed the plastic dildo to the hilt.
“Sweet angel, do you think you can take another round?” Her question was lilting, soft and full of tender affection, yet, you know that the final round would never come while you were still conscious.
As if egging you on to answer without much thought, she pulled out almost completely, then buried herself as deep as she could inside you, scattering what scraps of thought you managed to collect into the ether. Long, slender fingers gripped your chin, guiding you to look at the livestream, alongside the many, many, many comments that moved too fast for you to see anything beyond demands for more. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint so many people, right? I would hate to leave them hanging~”
Deep down, you know, this would be far from the last, and yet, you were in too deep, your craving of her faux cock as biting and gnawing as her desire for her affection too.
So, you nodded.
You were rewarded with an airy chuckle, voice smoother than silk, amusement and glee dancing in her eyes. Ever mesmerizing and beautiful, it was a blessing that you were able to see how the light dances inside her eyes, giving you a glimpse to the depths of her affection.
A distinct noise caught Eleven’s attention, and she glanced at the screen, a message demanding you to ride your dear lover instead along with a hefty donation. With a strength that belied her lithe figure, she flipped your positions, disorienting you for a second until you saw Eleven beneath you, your folds still gripping on her strap.
“Now, can you please yourself? Let me see your expressions, let everyone hear your desperation,” to emphasize, she lifted your hips up and down.
You were in for a long, long night.
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latenightdaydreams · 2 months ago
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Eldritch!König X Princess! Reader
The reader is a stubborn princess with a childish personality, she is considered a treasure by the king, loved and pampered, however because she was imprisoned in the castle for too long and learned too many royal rules and rituals, she decided to escape to leave the castle and on her journey of discovery, she accidentally strayed into the forbidden sea of the kingdom... if you don't mind, there is rape
thank you for doing my previous requests,i always follow your posts everyday,i love the way you write your fanfics,by the way,can you post your fanfics at 6am or 6pm?the time hook in asia and other continents are different,so it will be difficult to adjust the time to receive your post notifications,thanks!!!🥰😍🫂🤲😗😙
Of course! I've been trying to post later after reading this and I appreciate your recommendation!
Eldritch!König x Princess (fem)
MDNI🔞
🚫!Trigger Warning!🚫
Master List✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, creature, tentacles, non-con, virginity loss
1.6k word count
👸
.
.
Being the eldest daughter to the King means a lot of responsibilities are placed on your shoulders, one day this will all be yours. The sad thing is that you want none of it. You’d love to be free, like the children in the town outside the castle walls.
Every day is consumed with boring lessons and practice. While your body may be here, your mind wanders often to what lies beyond your gilded cage. The King is a kind but overprotective man. He tells you continuously about a scary world filled with evil, yet all you can find is magic in the stories you’re told.
Today is like every other day. While sitting at the piano, you mindlessly press on keys as you stare out the open windows. It is a beautiful and bright day; the sound of the birds carrying through the light breeze makes you crave only a moment outside. You smash your hands down on the keys with annoyance. It’s as if the world is teasing you.
The staff around looks at your out the corner of their eyes, rolling them. You often act out as if you’re a child, yet you’re in your twenties already. What more should they expect from such a spoiled brat? They fear the day your queen; you’re nowhere near ready for that type of responsibilities.
Lucky for them, they won’t have to worry about that. You don’t plan on being here for much longer. Over the last few months, you’ve been putting together an escape plan. Armed with the knowledge of lore spoken and countless hours of studying; you’re ready to make a new path for yourself. The thought of being a Queen has never appealed to you, you’ve always dreamed of living like a daring adventurer. Someone not bound to the confines of their overbearing parents.
You wander down into the kitchen to see a room of busy bee workers preparing dinner. Some look at you, but choose to ignore you as to not get wrapped up into any of your wild antics. Walking over to a bowls of freshly picked blueberries, you grab a handful and twirls innocently towards the door. As you scan the room, you notice that no one is looking at you. Perfect.
The door opens with a bit of weight applied. You quickly slip out the door without anyone noticing. The kitchen faces the woods; with only a bag with money and some food you begin your new journey.
Your feet carry you eagerly through the brush and into the woods; your escape is almost too easy. For a moment you turn to look at the castle for one last time, letting yourself commit the view to memory. You don’t know when you’ll be back again and it’s bitter sweet. Once you feel as if you’re ready to move on, you turn with no intentions of running back a scared little girl.
Hours of walking tire you quickly. You never figured that the ground might be difficult to walk on, meaning you haven’t made it as far as you planned to before sun down. Off in the distance you can hear the sound of waves crashing, piquing your interest. All these years and you’ve never seen the ocean before, it’s always been a dream.
The sun setting causes a stunning golden hue to cover the water, making it feel as if you’ve just stumbled into heaven on earth. You quickly remove your shoes, eager to feel the sand between your toes. As you rush forward, the warm sand is relaxing. The small worry that lingered in the back of your mind is completely forgotten as you become entranced by the crashing waves.
You approach the shore line allowing the cool water to wash over your feet. It’s such a welcoming feeling, it’s impossible to believe that your father said this world is evil. How can it be evil when such beauty exists? You sit, your dress gets wet but you don’t care. Minutes pass as the sun continues to set. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something poke out of the water.
König sees you; you’re new. His eyes drift over the royal purple dress that you’re wearing. A princess? In this part of the world? How did you ever get here? Either way, he wasn’t going to complain. It’s as if the universe just hand delivered a new toy to him. He watches you curiously as you simply…enjoy the view.
You lay back, closing your eyes with a big smile on your face. Day one of freedom and you’re already confident that you’ve made the right decision. Then, you feel the presence of something- someone- approaching you. When you open your eyes, you see a large man looking down at you. His eyes a pale blue, body nude other than a piece of fabric covering his face. From underneath the fabric, eight large purple toned tentacles move about.
There is a moment of just staring at him with a slack jaw. He’s a massive eight feet tall, making the way he looms over your much smaller body that much more intimidating. You watch as his eyes trail over your dress; he somehow makes you feel exposed while fully clothed.
“Hello…” You speak in a timid tone.
“Hallo…Prinzessin.” His voice is low and gravely.
“Y- you know who I am?”
“Ja. You’re Princess y/n.” He begins to walk around you, inspecting you.
“I am…who are you?”
“König. You’ve wandered into my kingdom, Prinzessin. Did you know that?” He kneels and looks into your eyes as you sit up, feeling uncomfortable with him. “People don’t usually come here.”
“Why?” Your voice shakes slightly.
“Because of me.”
For a moment you linger, staring up at him. Your stomach churns and you feel sick. He smells of the ocean and it’s very unpleasant. The alarm going off in your line is telling you to get up and run; that you’re in danger. You decide to try and just push that feeling down.
“Wh- why is that?”
König can smell the fear emanating off of you. A small band of sweat forms around your hairline from the warm day and the heavy dress overheating your body. A small drop drips down the side of your face, traveling over your delicate features.
“You’re wearing far too many layers.” One of his thick tentacles slowly wraps around your ankle, slipping up underneath the hem of your long dress.
That is what triggers panic within you. You quickly jump up, but his tentacle tightens its grip and pulls you back down. Your face smashes into the sand, cutting your lip from the impact. The sand slips through your fingers as you grab at it, trying to get away.
König grabs your arms and turns you around, laying you on your back. As you sit up to hit him, he grabs your arms and slams you back down. A loud laugh leaves him, he wasn’t expecting such a delicate little thing to be so feisty.
“Where do you think you’re off to? You’re in my world now, Prinzessin.”
“Get off of me!” You scream.
“I’ve been looking for a queen. A warm body for my offspring to grow in.”
König’s slimy tentacles come up and wrap around your wrist, pinning you to the ground as you squirm. His massive weight rests on your legs as he begins to slip the fabric that covers you up, exposing a sweet little bush covering your precious center. A low hum rumbles from his chest as his pale eyes meet yours.
The stomach churning feeling of his appendages slithering up your leg makes you jerk to the side but you can’t move. König is much bigger and much stronger than you; it would be a useless waste of energy. You can feel the tip slip back and forth, parting your folds.
“You can’t do this to me! I’m the princess!”
“You’re no one here.”
König shuts you up with a hand over your mouth as his tentacles move to hold you down and your legs apart for him. Tears stream down your face as you realize that no matter how much you scream, there is no one here that can help you. His unsettling gaze lingers on yours as he moves his erection closer to you.
Your muffled cries are drowned out but the loud sound of König’s moan as he presses the tip of his leaking cock against your pure cunt. A virgin princess, exactly what the king deserves. A stinging pain travels throughout your body as he struggles to press his girthy 13 inch cock into you.  
“Mein Gott, you’re so small. I’m going to break you.” He chuckles as his hips buck forward.
The walls of your vagina feel gummy as they wrap tightly around him. You’re like the perfect little glove, little sex toy for him. He pulls his hips back and repeatedly continues the assault on your defenseless smaller body. Unable to do anything, you just lie there and take it.
“Does daddy know where you are?” He mocks in a low gruff voice as he thrust at a merciless speed, not allowing you to catch your breath.
“M-mm” You mumble and shake your head, his hands still on your mouth not allowing you to speak.
“Stupid…little…brat.” König manages the words between each thrust. His hands move to your legs, pulling them back so he can angle himself deeper into you, trying to shove more of himself into you. Your pained pathetic mewls boom out across the empty beach.
Back at the castle there is panic after hours without any sight of you. Your father went to your room to see a note placed on your bed. In a hurry he reads it, tears streaming down his face as he reads your final goodbye to him. He is torn between sending every knight to find you and just leaving you to be the woman you’ve dreamt of becoming. Little does he know you’ve only doomed yourself to the life of being bred.
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morningstar27 · 1 year ago
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Chelsea x FEM reader (chief) 🔞
"Chief~"
You know that voice very well as you were met by a hug so tight that it made you impossible to breathe somehow.
Chelsea just got back from dispatching and of course she would be needing your attention after dispatching because that's what she always do.
You on the other hand had no choice but to let her embraced you since you know no matter what you do, she will always be this clingy to you.
"By the way chief, have you received the gift I sent you when I was away?"
"You mean the gift that has a flower bouquet with chocolates and jewelery?"
"Yes~ so you did receive them..."
She smiled while you just looked at her.
"So will you be my sugar baby-"
"No"
She then pout while you just gently took off her arms on you as you went back to your desk and started working.
She then went to the other side of the desk and sat on the chair while her eyes are just fixated on you.
"Why won't you agree to be my sugar baby? You will have all of what's mine you know"
"We've already talked about this"
"But chief~ I want you to be my sugar baby though.."
She then lay on the desk as she looked at you and grinned.
"You know I can give you everything, money, jewelry, expensive clothes..even a mansion for us if you want~"
"That's so sweet of you but still no"
She just sigh in defeat but still looked at you.
"You're so hard to get chief"
You didn't respond as you kept Working but then Chelsea put something on your desk which caught your attention because it's a cat as you turn your gaze at her and tilt your brow.
"But I won't give up~"
"....what is this?"
You pointed at the cat.
"I thought we agreed that no adopting  cats...the bureau is not an adopting center for cats"
"Oh but this is for you chief"
You were surprised when she said that as she smiled at you.
"You see, you often sent me to dispatch and of course you would get lonely without me so..."
You looked at the cat which was just looking at you as it meowed and slowly approached you to which you just looked at it before turning your gaze back at chelsea.
"See? She already likes you?"
"She?"
"Mhm..the cat's a girl so why don't you name it chief?"
You then thought for a moment as you lean your hand and the cat just licked your fingers then rub itself to your hand.
"Chelsea"
"Yes?"
"No..I meant I'll name it Chelsea since you and her might be the same"
"Aww~ chief is that how you miss me everytime I was away?"
You just rolled your eyes while Chelsea just chuckled then stood up.
"I'll leave now chief"
She said and left you and the cat alone while you just petted the cat and it made you smiled a little.
~~~
For the past week Chelsea still always visit you but she notice that your attention was always with that cat and you even refuse her everytime she asked you to visit her.
"Chief~"
Chelsea called out to you as you turn around and Chelsea immediately notice that you were holding the cat on your arm.
She stop Infront of you while you just looked at her.
"Chelsea, is there something you want?"
"Ah well..I was hoping that maybe-"
Suddenly the cat meowed and snuggle into you more while your attention went back to the cat again.
"Sorry, Chelsea. She must be hungry, I need to feed her"
You said and walk away while the cat then crawled up to your shoulder and Chelsea just looked at the cat with furrowed brows.
The cat then stick out it's tongue to Chelsea which made Chelsea frowned more.
"...I can't believe that.."
She mumbled while she click her tongue and started walking away.
At night you were overworking and had to take the cat to nightingale since you won't have any time to gave it some attention so you asked nightingale to take care of it for a while as you were just about to get back to your office.
You open the door to your office and sat on the chair as you sigh before starting to get to work.
While working you suddenly felt something on your thighs which made you flinch as you immediately looked down to see Chelsea under your desk.
"What are you doing down there!?"
You asked her which she just looked at you and press her palm on your cloth down there as you squirm a little.
You held her head and tried pushing her away but to no avail when she suddenly grab both your thighs and put it on her shoulders.
She then took off your pants and underwear as you got flustered.
"Chelsea wait-"
She started kissing your inner thigh as you just squinted your eyes while she looked at you desperately.
"You must be tired through all that work chief"
She then smirk.
"Let me give you a little medicine for that~"
She started licking your clit as you squirm again as she kept locking it while you just covered your mouth to prevent your moans to be heard around the office.
"Chief, you don't have to resist your moans~"
She said and looked at you.
"It is late already, there's no one outside~"
Just then she slid her tongue inside making your walls apart which you couldn't stop your moans and let it out and it made Chelsea smirk and started licking faster.
You held her hair and grip on it while she kept licking you and moans were escaping your lips.
"Ch-chelsea..ngh~.."
*That's right chief, say my name*
She thought as she made her tongue went deeper making your head fall back as you kept moaning.
You were close to released as you push her more in and it made her chuckled while licking you as you finally released.
She licked your juices clean before she slowly made her way up to you.
You were catching your breathe and slowly looked at her while she just looked at you while smirking.
She then started unbuttoning your top shirt and pulled down your turtle neck cloth as she nibbled on your neck while she sat on your lap.
"What's with..you today?"
"...you barely give me attention this week chief..
She then went to your lips and started kissing you desperately and needy.
"Everytime were together, all you talk about is that cat you name after me"
"...don't tell me your jealous over a cat?"
"So what if I am?"
She said and looked at you while furrowing her brows.
"I'm having regrets giving you that cat because she took my spot"
"Spot?"
"Everytime I came back from dispatching, I can see the cat resting on your lap..that's my spot!"
She said now pouting which you looked at her in disbelief but then suddenly chuckled and slid your fingers through your chin.
"If it makes you upset then why don't you stay with me all night? I still have work and I gave the cat to nightingale for a while since I wouldn't be able to take care of it today"
"Hmph..that's not fair I want to be with you always, not only today"
"...fine, whatever you say"
You said and peck her lips.
"Though I still need my pants and underwear back because I won't let you sit on my lap while I am naked down there"
You demand to which she just laugh and kiss you again. She then went off your lap for a sec as you then wore your underwear and pants back and clean your chair before sitting and Chelsea didn't waste any time and sat on your lap and rest her head on your shoulder while snuggling onto you more.
"From now on, no one can rest on this lap except me chief~"
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serawritesthings · 1 year ago
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AS FAR AS DREAMS GO
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Pairing | Arthur Morgan x fem! reader Summary | While Arthur found sanction in his dreams, you would fret about them every night. While he longed for the sweet caress of your hands, you were unknowing, fooled by his stoic facade as your dreams only brought you nightmares. Tags |  Angsty, Arthur Morgan pining for the reader, hinting at smut, intimacy, two idiots clearly in love, some sadness ensues Word Count | 10.3k A/N | Hello, lovelies! It's my second-ever fanfic; I hope you like it! Also, I got carried away, so it’s quite long (sorry)… It's loosely based on the mission with Uncle when you rob a wagon, but I have my spin on it. It’ll work more with the story this way. If you want, it can fit in with my recent fanfic about Arthur, but maybe set earlier in their “relationship.” ;D THANKS FOR READING!♡ Part two
Arthur felt you in his sleep last night. 
He remembered the caress of your fingers on his icy skin, leaving scorching traces of blazing fire in its wake as your hearts collided and molded into his deepest longing. Like a strange mirror, it portrayed you as you always were: tender and loving, fiery but forgiving. But it wasn’t you; instead, it was a thought of you. Like when walking down the street and catching a glance of a person that seemed familiar, but with another look, was someone else entirely. Only in his dream-filled sleep could he allow himself the sweet torture of your presence, for in those moments, he didn’t have to think of the consequences his thoughts would bring. His dreams of you overtook his mind, whether he was willing or not. For in his mind, you had carved a path so profound that it would be etched into his senses until his last breath, clouding his sanity, never again being able to differentiate dreams from reality.
Oh, how you held him in your embrace. It made him long for the sun to disappear under the horizon once more when the warm springs of light found him in the chilly dawn. He could still feel traces of your touch in the short period between sleep and consciousness. For a brief moment, it made him question whether it was a dream or if his deepest desire had come true. You were his.
But he would wake up and find that the warmth he held in his hands had dissipated, like hot ash falling between his fingers, making Arthur attempt to dig up what remained of you from the ground. He was left aching with no relief, cold and shuddering in the chilly morning, standing over the remains of your ghost. It was like his heart had been burned with it, only coming alive once more when you returned to him at midnight.
But for you, dreams had trouble finding you at night, if they even found you at all. You could never escape reality to find sanction in the warm blanket of imagination. When dreams did reach you, memories replaced fantasy and washed over like cold, freezing water. You would fret and worry, tossing around wishing you could melt into the sheets and float to where you could become someone else. There was a time when the dreams would bring you solace, whether it was a conjecture of old memories or what your younger self would conjure up. But that was a long time ago, and you find that the older you get, those dreams drift further away. So, you had nowhere to escape, nothing to ease the hardship that daytime brought. So, sleeping is just a blink of an eye nowadays to make the night pass faster.
After a sleepless night, you sat by a tree overlooking the vast landscape. It’s quiet between the trees this morning. It brought a sense of calm to the otherwise quite hectic place. Although chilly, the wind carried a frisk waft, clearing your head. You enjoyed these mornings and often found yourself awake before the others. It’s a habit you picked up through the years, though a younger you would complain about having to rise that early in the morning. It felt like the world was entirely your own. It is even calmer in times like this, where the residents consist mainly of women when the men are out. It brought a sense of comfort to you, for they were the ones that had been kind and welcoming to you. Unfortunately, your time alone didn’t last long, for you have learned that people rose relatively early here. But the time you did get for yourself gave you a chance to ponder the time that had passed up until now.
Sean, a peculiar man, had recently been brought back from being held captive by bounty hunters soon to be transported up the Upper Montana River to a federal prison. You had immensely worried for him, finding his presence over the last few months to lighten your sometimes rather gloomy mood with his ridiculous shenanigans. Some had been unsure if going back for him posed as a good idea, but the thought of leaving him behind saddened you and many others. Somehow, you had managed to convince Arthur to lend a hand, with considerable help from Javier You knew Arthur cared for Sean, even though he’d probably rather die before admitting it.
When you first got wrapped up with these people, you admit that Arthur scared the living daylight out of you. There was a certain air around him that exuded strength and authority, never stopping short of resorting to violence. You were no stranger to what kind of man he was, what they were; neither were you of their business, but you were apprehensive of them more often than not. The womenfolk had told you countless times that Arthur could be immensely ruthless when needed and had done things that would leave your blood running cold. And you didn’t doubt them. Behind those calculating eyes and quiet demeanor lay a long life of violence and hardship. You were sure of it.
That’s why you felt stuck when it came to him. Despite all this, he was a kind man. However, he didn’t speak much when it concerned you. More so, he worked hard, and you rarely spotted him in camp. Freezing your guts out in those mountains was the longest time you had seen his face consistently. You couldn’t do more than respect him, and although apprehensive around him, you had found yourself doing it less because of his dangerous aura and more because he made chills run down your back and a warmth spread in your stomach like wildfire when he set his eyes on you. It wasn’t a fire that spread fast, destroying everything in its path and bringing misery. Instead, a fire dispersed like slow poison, mingling with your blood as it flowed through your body, claiming you bit by bit until you surrendered to its ever-so-prolonged heat.
“I heard you begged for the boys to come get me!” Time had flown by quickly, and soon, you heard the clanking of pots and the sound of steel against the wood. Sean had suddenly spoke up as he neared you, his Irish accent lacing his words heavily. Although you had missed him and didn’t want to leave him to an insufferable fate, you hadn’t forgotten his teasing. He knew very well he was exaggerating, but he wouldn’t let go of the chance to bury you in his flamboyant personality.
“That’s quite the exaggeration, Sean.” A small smile spread on your lips. “Don’t make me regret standing in favor of your return.” A snort left the red-headed man at your words. Pursing your lips, you put your gaze on him as he stood beside your seated form with his arms crossed, gazing out onto the open landscape of Horseshoe Overlook.
“Ah, how I missed ya big words and harmless threats.” You could hear a few snickers at his statement from the people gathering around the campfire. A blush covered your cheeks. You had a reputation for sounding smart sometimes, and people did not stop at anything to tease you, especially the man in front of you.
 “Did ya miss me?” A cheeky grin grew on his punchable face as he raised his eyebrows, expectantly leaning closer to you.
A scoff left your lips, but you didn’t have time to answer him as the sound of hooves drew near. A certain dread always filled you at the sound. Even though you knew it most likely was someone returning to camp, you could never be too sure what state they would be in. You often worked alongside Ms. Grimshaw to help when someone got hurt, having extensive knowledge of tending to wounds and other bodily harm. It worried you, for the possibility of not being able to help someone would someday appear. Like that poor man, Davey. Luckily, you had managed to take care of Marston well enough. But he did look awful these days with that scar adorning his face; there was no denying that.
You and Sean looked up as the horses raced through the path among the trees that led to your whereabouts. You could see Dutch among them, with Arthur and Hosea. Scowls were apparent on their faces as their loud voices broke the solitude in the air, seeming to argue viciously about something.
“What’s that about?” You questioned the man beside you. “God knows, but I’d stay outta it if I were you.” He gave you a knowing look and slouched away to bother someone else. Your curiosity was piqued, but you let it be for now, raising to help Mary-Beth wash some foul shirts she was struggling with—damned Reverend.
The day continued, mindless chatter filling the space between you and the girls as you worked under Ms. Grimshaw’s sharp, watchful eyes. She had been in a terrible mood today, so her reign was relentless.  
“Do you think she would be mad if we threw the clothes from the cliff edge?” A grumpy Tilly spoke up, her hands relentless as she scrubbed the fabric that never seemed to get cleaner. Sadly, it only became filthier the more she worked on it. Karen laughed as she raised her eyebrows, a mocking expression on her face. “Oh no, that won’t do for great Ms. Grimshaw. She would probably throw you right along with it.” Their laughter cut through the air, contagious as you smiled at their exchange, glancing up to see if Ms. Grimshaw had her eyes on you. But instead, your eyes found a pair of blue ones staring at you when you looked up—the brief moment left you unsure where to put your gaze after the contact broke. 
You cleared your throat as you spoke quietly. “Grimshaw means well.” They groaned at you, rolling their eyes. “Sure, Miss Righteous.” They laughed again as you joined them. Before you could hinder yourself, your eyes gazed up at Arthur again, finding him staring at you again; a particular fervency lay deep within them. However, he directed his eyes away from you hastily, like you caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. Seemingly tense, the man grabs a match from his pocket, lighting its phosphorus tip from his booth’s worn leather soles. When he took a drag, he peeked at you again, his head bowed, hiding under his worn hat. 
Dutch and Hosea were in a heated discussion, with Arthur listening in languidly. It probably related to what had transpired before they returned to camp. Although more collected now, there was still a tension in the air. By your observations, they were the “three main men” around here. They had been holding together most of their lives, naturally giving them authority over the gang. When they talked, you listened. Simple as that.
You touched your face discreetly, wondering if you had gotten soot from tending the fire on your cheeks again. What else could be the reason for Arthur’s stare? How embarrassing that would be. He made you somewhat uncertain already; you couldn’t possibly handle his mocking adding to that.
“I wonder what they’re talking about?” The question you asked left the girls perking their heads up and gazing at you before following your gaze, looking at the men arguing. “Yeah, it seems pretty serious,” Mary-Beth said, curious about their exchange. They had been going at it for quite a while now as evening drew closer. You observed them with intrigue. That’s when Hosea’s eyes planted on you, beckoning you over with his finger. He looked cunning as he settled leisurely in his chair, content. You gazed questingly at the girls as they shrugged their shoulders, looking as confused as you.
Dusting off your skirt, you rose from the small barrel you used as a makeshift chair and approached the men. You gave them an unsure smile, still confused, wondering what they could want to bring you into their apparent disagreement. 
“Well, we have a perfect actress with us, gentlemen. I’m sure she could charm our seemingly formidable friends.” Hosea patted your arms as your feet shifted under you when he spoke up. What could they possibly be talking about? Dutch was gazing at you indescribably as Arthur stared at the table. His arms crossed, not meeting your gaze.
“Well, her damsel in distress act has saved us before.” A low chuckle left Dutch as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table.
“May I ask what you’re talking about?” As the question left you, you could see Arthur raise his head to watch you. His expression was blank, but his eyes seemed sullen, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he took a drag. 
“Uncle’s received a tip of a supply wagon passing through carrying a payroll, lookin’ to be unguarded. They want you to help us.” His voice was quiet as he observed you, his accent thick. You had helped them on some jobs before, although only smaller ones since you weren’t as acquainted with the work as the others. You mainly had accompanied Hosea on his schemes, finding that both of you had quite the same proficiency in depicting a role. Although you had taken up some theatrics when you were a small child, you had never imagined you would use them to deceive people. You found Hosea to be a spiritful figure despite his age. When thinking about it, he reminded you immensely of your father. He was too stubborn to let himself grow old, and his spark for living and refusal to take on the habits of an older man made him seem immortal to you. But he wasn’t, which became evident to you the older you had gotten.
“Of course, if I can be of help.” You offered them a small smile, surprised they decided on you, not someone else. It didn’t seem scary for you; you would, of course, be accompanied. And they knew what they were doing, which had become apparent to you since they always managed to get out of trouble. Compared to some of the things they did, stealing from a wagon seemed mild. And with Arthur accompanying, you knew you would feel completely safe.
“S’not a good idea.” The words that left Arthur made you furrow your brows. What could be the reason for his doubt? Some parts of you understood that you might not be as proficient as the other women, but as you mentioned, playing the damsel in distress was right up your alley. And you already felt as if you were a burden around here.
He avoided your offended look as he continued, pointing his finger at Hosea. “I ain’t lettin’ h-anyone get hurt just cause Uncle got told a tip from some sad, half-witted lowlife! Now, I ain’t against looking up the lead, but we handle it without the theatrics an’ all, Hosea.” 
You were about to speak up, but Dutch did before you could. “It would give you the advantage to have someone stop the wagon; that way, you have the man unguarded and on the ground.” He gave you a look-over. You leaned slightly away from his calculating gaze, his squinting eyes examining you.
 “Yeah, that’ll do; let Uncle prove his worth this time. Bring Bill and Charles with ya.” With that said, he stood up from his chair and nodded at you with a beaming grin, and sauntered off. Wonder what Molly saw in him. Often, you found him to lean towards arrogancy, the way he let everyone else do his dirty work. But they all seemed to listen to him, which meant what he did gave some positive outcome. 
“Trust me, Arthur, she’ll do good. And she might make up for your dumbness.” As Hosea’s chuckling figure slowly disappeared, you gazed curiously at Arthur, who was scoffing, staring after the man. 
“I know how to handle myself, Arthur. And I know you know that too.”
“Sure.” He dragged out the word, voice mirroring his now grumpy mood.
“So?” You raised your eyebrows. He gave you a questioning look. “What’s the matter?” You asked. 
He let out a long breath. “It ain’t safe. A random tip could be risky. It probably means someone else heard ’bout it, too, if the man was willing to give up the information. Likewise, it could be a setup. We don’t know, do we?” You leaned on the table before him, placing your hand to stead his bouncing knee. You knew what he meant. But every mission was risky, especially these days when you had law coming at you from what appeared to be every direction. Despite this, you had to do it to survive, and you wanted to show them you were capable.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out.” Your voice was mild, an undertone of understanding lacing your words. Even if it were Uncle’s idea, it would fall on Arthur either way if things went wrong, as it always did. And you knew he cared, even though he never showed it. Or think he didn’t show it.
He was about to speak, but a loud voice broke through your conversation. “Gotten over me that fast, has she? Already moving on to the gang’s grouch? I’m hurt. Here I walked around thinkin’ you missed me!” You gave Arthur a last look, squeezing his knee to gaze at Sean as he dramatically held his hands to his heart. Laughing at his antics, you stood up. “I’m not sure anyone missed you when you were gone, right Arthur?” You strolled off with the Irish man following you, not noticing the wistful, prolonged stare the blue-eyed man had set on you since you touched his knee with your delicate hand, the feeling of your skin leaving a fire trail he couldn’t douse.
-
“That’s it, Ada.” The grey coat of the Andulasian was silky under your palm as you graced her sun-warmed coat, giving her a carrot you stole from Pearson’s wagon as you distracted him with your mindless chatter the following evening. Her ears perked up at your soft voice, munching. She nickered contentedly as her mane blew under the frisk breeze that wafted around you.
“You know, you should’ve settled for a faster horse instead of an Andalusian. She’ll slow you down.” A gruff voice broke out in the otherwise calm spot as the sound of spurs clanking was accompanied by heavy footsteps. You looked up at the man, noting how he leaned lazily against the empty hitching post and put his hands on his belt. It surprised you, it did. He didn’t usually instigate a conversation with you.
“She’s fast enough, my Ada. And she’s family now, so.” You voiced your thoughts softly, hearing his statement from many others when Arthur, Dutch, and Micha returned to the desolated mining town with two horses and a crying Sadie up in Colter. The horse piqued your interest when you set your eyes on her, and Arthur kindly let you keep her for the time being, planning on selling her when they got the chance. Your disagreement was apparent, and not putting up much of a fight; he let you keep her. Hosea, too, opposed it when he saw the mare, but your stubbornness made him laugh. I’ll let you figure it out on your own then, he had told you.
“Well, at least we’ll know you’re safe if you get attacked by a snake.” A low chuckle left Arthur, still finding you’re choice of a companion foolish. 
“Oh, are you making jokes now?” You looked at him as he straightened and strode towards you. “Cause if you are, it’s not very funny.” You backed away slightly, not used to him being so close. He put his gloved hand on Ada’s soft coat and patted her softly. A waft of smoke reached your nose as he stood next to you, coupled with the smell of a man who did hard labor. But amidst that, there was something else, something warmer and manlier. “Well, she’s real pretty, that’s for sure.” His gaze went down to you before he directed his gaze, fastening the tie strap you didn’t secure well enough.
You rarely saw Arthur with his hat off, his hair usually peaking out from under the well-worn leather. But he didn’t wear it this morning, and you wondered why. It blew softly in the wind, a slight beard adorning his face. It fit him well, adding to his roguish appearance. He was pretty handsome.
You didn’t realize you were observing him as he focused on your not-so-good job putting on the saddle. He didn’t seem as on edge as usual, the constant frown gone and replaced with a serene expression. Arthur didn’t look as frightening this way when he was relaxed, although his advantage in height and bulky form made up for it. 
“Be careful today, yeah?” He gave you a curt nod when you replied that you would, walking over to his horse. You saw Charles walking in your direction, greeting you with a smile when he got close. 
“We should head off as soon as possible; I’m worried we might miss the wagon.” His voice was calm, as it tended to be often. Sometimes, it felt like Charles was a shadow as he kept quiet, primarily to himself. He rarely got into trouble and handled things with a clear mind. You could but only like him, finding his solitude comforting and much like your own. 
When Bill and Uncle appeared, you hoisted yourself into the saddle, giving Ada a soft pat before setting her in motion. Uncle had told you it was just up the road from camp, near the crossroads where an old, ruined church remained. “You ride first and hitch up the horse in the trees behind the church. We will stop near the crossroads to look for the wagon passing through as you get them to stop and get down on the ground.” Arthur said calmly, pointedly looking at you. 
As you rode off, Arthur stared after you as you disappeared between the trees. The worry had settled in his stomach when Hosea brought up the idea for you to tag along. He wasn’t opposed to you doing your share in the gang, but bringing you on such a spontaneous mission made him uneasy.
“She’ll be fine, Arthur, and we’ll have our eyes on her the whole time.” Charles’s hushed voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he secured his gun on the saddle. Even though Charles seemed calm, a slight worry still tainted his words. 
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” 
“I understand.” They sat in their saddles, heading out after Uncle’s lead. 
“You know, after this, you will realize how much I do for this gang. Looking up this lead has not been an easy feat, gentlemen.” He looked proud in his seat, bringing his hands up like he already had secured the money. “Sure, Uncle, drinking and talking to some bum who just might be lying to you is exactly what this gang needs right now.” Uncle just scoffed at Arthur. 
“You know, you should be nicer to me, Arthur, and you will be after you realize this will bring us a well-deserved fortune.”
“Yeah? And what are you going to spend it on? More booze?”
-
The church where you said goodbye to Ada was no short of run-down. Missing planks, bottles with an unnamed liquid inside, and cigarettes everywhere made you wonder what kind of people sought shelter here. You didn’t have trouble finding it because it wasn’t too far from camp like you were told. Trying not to think about leaving Ada in such an environment, you wandered towards the road you were told they would pass through. 
You hid behind a tree, shielding you from anyone coming down the path. You hoped Uncle was correct; otherwise, things could go south fast. No stranger would let a hurt woman linger on the road; likewise, they wouldn’t let her stumble to the seat with a hurt leg, meaning you would get the driver on the ground. Simple but effective. You only hoped Uncle had been correct, that this would be easy. 
Taking Karen’s advice to loosen a few buttons on your shirt, you revealed some of your cleavage. Make him more willing, quoting her words. The skin now exposed glows in the sunlight from the light layer of sweat coating your skin from the heat. You smile to yourself. This’ll do just fine. You run your hands on the ground to dirty up your skirt like you had been crawling in the dirt. You didn’t want to think about how hard it would be to get it out of the fabric since you likely had to clean it.
Peaking up from the tree, you could spot Arthur, Uncle, Bill, and Charles from a distance, gazing upon your spot as masks adorned their faces. Who were they trying to fool? They looked ominous where they sat on their horses. God, if the driver got the slightest look at them, he would run the other way, and the operation would be over. You felt your hands grow clammy at the suspense as your shoulders tensed, sitting on the ground as you leaned against the tree. 
You took your face in your hands, massaging your temple. “Okay, wagon approaches; I frantically run out from the woods, screaming at the driver to help. He stops and steps down on the ground to ask me what’s going on, hopefully worried. I tell him I’m getting chased by a maniac, and the others will handle the rest.” You breathed out as your heart beat wildly, voicing your plan aloud. “Easy peasy, right?”
That’s when you heard it, the crunch of the wheels rolling in the ground in the distance growing louder. Taking a deep breath, you ruffled your hair slightly and leaped out from the tree, running towards the road like satan himself was after you.
“Mister, please!” Your voice shrieked out, startling the man. With an exasperated expression, you stumbled down after tripping on your skirt, getting dirtier from the mud covering the path. Holding your hand on your leg, you gazed up at the men above you who looked at you alarmed. His face was adorned with small eyes and wrinkles that depicted his old age as he had to squint to see you. It made you question why such an old man drove a fortune alone but pushed the thoughts away. “You have to help me!”
“Miss, what’s happened to ya?” Immediately, he slowed the horses, stepping down from the wagon to inspect the predicament before him. He looked friendly, just like his tone was kind, and worry filled his eyes as he jogged towards you. Kind, but foolish.
“Some men trailed me, oh some god-awful men trailed me, and when I cut through the woods with my horse, she freaked out and bucked me off!” Panic settled in your voice as you looked pleadingly at the man holding your shoulder. “Please, mister, my leg hurts awfully bad; I think it’s broken.” Tears filled your voice, choking up the words leaving your mouth. His hands found your shoulders as he kneeled. “Come here, Miss. We’ll get you home, yeah?” You nodded at him with pleading eyes.
The air around you was calm, and the wind blew softly, contrasting your shrill voice in the early morning as he helped you stand up. With your weight on his shoulders, he didn’t even have the time to turn around before the cold metal of a pistol met the back of his head.
The pistol cocked. Frozen beside you, the hands supporting you grew still as the blood on his face drained, eyes staring into yours like he could see Arthur behind him in the reflection of your eyes.
“Let’s not do that. Why don’t you step away from the woman and throw your gun on the ground?” Arthur’s cold but calm demeanor frightened even you, looking different from the man you were used to. “Real slow now.” His eyes found yours, staring from under his hat as he spoke. A chill went down your spine, now understanding why he had a reputation for coming off as frightening. Behind him, Charles was rummaging through the wagon as Uncle and Bill stood behind him on their horses, acting as lookouts as their rifles were pointed at the man beside you. 
“Listen, I work for Kerosene and Tar, Leviticus Cornwall, alright?” His voice was shaking, but he still tried to scare the men. Bold. You could hear Bill curse in the distance, the name familiar to them. Judging from their reaction, it wasn’t good news, and the anxiety rose in you like wildfire again as you tried to get away from the man holding you, his presence now suffocating.
“Hey, step away from her old man.” Arthurs’s voice grew firmer as the words rumbled in his chest, pushing the gun tighter against his temple when the man grabbed your shoulders harder. When you turned your head towards the elderly man, he looked as frightened as you, shocked by how the situation had transpired.
“Hey, Arthur, I got the money!” Charle’s satisfied voice made you both look up, but as you did, the sight of horses charging towards you in the distance made your eyes widen. Your breath stuck in your throat at the picture, your pulse rising as you struggled to control your quivering palms.
“Aw, shit. Uncle!” Arthurs voiced his annoyance at the downturn of the situation as he hit the elderly man with his gun, his body falling limp beside you as he held his head in his hands. Shocked, you looked at his squirming body as he writhed on the ground. Before you could shake away the shock that nailed your feet shut, you felt a pair of arms shake your petrified form.
“Get your head straight girl!” Amidst the loud sound of hooves filling your ears from every direction, Arthur shouted at you as he grabbed the horn on the saddle and hopped onto his horse. Sitting tall, he placed his arms under yours so he could lift you. Now seated before him, the sudden motion made your head spin as the world around you stayed a constant blur.
“Bill! We’ll split up, make it harder for them to track us. You go with Charles and Uncle to the left, and we’ll go straight! Stay out of camp for awhile!” His shouting brought you back to reality, the sound of bullets heading towards you growing louder the clearer your head got. Bill shouted in agreement as he cursed loudly and took off hastily, rifle in his hands as the three escaped the scene. Making a clicking noise, Arthur urged the horse to move, the force pushing your body forward from the sudden speed. The severity of the situation dawned on you when you glanced back at the riders following you. Your heart beat heavily against your chest; the number of men chasing after you could only be likened to a whole army. 
“There’s so many!” The wind wisped your hair around you as you flew through the country. You glanced back at Arthur. “Yeah, I know! But I think the others got the worst of it!” His statement did nothing to calm your racing nerves as bullets rushed past you. Boadicea’s muscles moved fervently under you as Arthur spurred her on. Fast didn’t seem like fast enough. The pace painted the world blurry as you 
rode on for a long time, the skies beginning to turn dark.
After a long while following the road, Arthur steered off it and up a hill into a tightly grown forest. “I think we’re losing them!” Your voice flew in the air as the wind in your ears whistled when you looked back. Almost stumbling on a rock, you both flew forward as Arthur’s heavy weight fell on you momentarily. A choked sound left your throat as the air left you, and you heard him curse out a sorry behind you. Recovering quickly, Boadicea picked up the pace once again as you gazed behind you, trying to see if they had gained on you.
Why in the world were there so many? Maybe Arthur was right, and it was a setup. After a while, the sound of hooves slowly grew distant, the only noise being your heavy breaths intermingling as you felt the adrenalin still run through your veins. 
“Shit, Arthur. What the hell was that?”
“That is why you don’t trust Uncle’s shit plans!” His voice was sharp like glass as he realized he was right like he usually was. “Foolish-minded fools, the lot of ’em!” He voiced his thoughts angrily. He was tense behind you, every move filled with a raging fury as he swiftly urged the horse forward.
“What do we do now?” You voiced your concerns worryingly. You had no idea where you were; the place was unfamiliar. It had grown chilly as the sun disappeared from the blue sky, the cold wind now apparent as the danger dissipated, and your body grew aware. 
“We find somewhere to hide until the next morning; they’ll probably be out looking for us, seeing as they think we have their money.” You hoped the others were well, even though you weren’t entirely too happy with how things had transpired. If Arthur wasn’t lying, they got the worst of it. You wanted to voice your concerns but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being; not entirely too sure that’s what he wanted to hear right now.
“I know a place where we can hide. It’ll be cold, but we’ll be safe. For now.” Unbeknownst to you, he glanced down at your shivering form. 
After a while, you could feel your breath calm down enough for you to relax slightly. Although you were still sitting up tensely, aware of the position you were in. Arthur was a big man, towering behind you, almost embracing you as his arms held the reigns at your sides. The warmth radiating from him was immense, and the softness of his scout jacket softened the impact of your back to his chest as the horse galloped. It did make you somewhat uncomfortable being that close to the man, but as time passed and the colder the air got, you found yourself sheepishly leaning backward to stop the chills running through your body. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it or, worse, push you away from him. 
The top of your head only reached his jaw when you glanced up at him, leaning your head back slightly. He was focused on the road ahead; eyes squinted angrily as he still grumbled bitterly under his breath. The corners of your mouth raised slightly before you curled your lips under your teeth, turning to look forward. He really was a grump sometimes.
Leaning forward, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck to try to calm your nerves. “You know, I’ve never been good at riding horses, so thank god you’re with me. No coordination whatsoever.” You laughed, trying to distract yourself from being chased through the now-dark country. Even though you couldn’t see them anymore, they were probably still on your lead. “We should be lucky we didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. When we stumbled over that rock, I thought we were don-”
“That’s the place over there.” His gruff voice interrupted your nervous blabbering.
Your head perked up at his mention. It wasn’t much to cheer for, run-down seeming like a compliment compared to this place. Although still standing, it looked like it would fall apart if someone as much as touched it. But it had a door, and the windows were barred, protecting it from the winds rummaging through the landscape. I guess that counts for something.
“You sure they won’t find us here?” A gust of smoke from the cold surrounded you when you spoke. Logically, if they had followed your direction, they would probably have gone rummaging through every abandoned house they encountered on the way. The only answer you got was a grunt, and you almost rolled your eyes at him. What splendid company you would have for the rest of the night. Although, he had been right about the whole ordeal, so it wasn’t hard for you to see where he came from. If your previous thought had been correct, all of this would fall on Arthur. With him being in higher authority in the gang, he also held more responsibility and had to make sure the plans went along smoothly.
As you approached the cabin hastily, he stopped the horse in a quick motion, the dirt flying in the air as it surrounded you both. Hopping down from the saddle, he patted Boadicea gently on the neck. “Come ‘ere.” His hands went around your waist as he hoisted you down from the tall animal, fingers squeezing subtly around your waist as he steadied you on the ground, avoiding your gaze. 
“Why don’t you hitch her up by the door? I’ll have a quick look in the cabin.” As he pointed to Boadicea, you gave him a curt nod as you did what he asked. “Will she be alright out here all night?” You blurted out as you fastened the rope against one of the planks in the fence surrounding the cabin’s front porch. A distant reassurance from Arthur could be heard as he ensured you would be alone and undisturbed. Giving the animal one last pat, you stepped up the wooden stairs, wrapping your arms around you. Since the sun had disappeared from the sky, it was dark inside, and your eyes found it troubling to adapt since the moon didn’t light up the room. 
The house was eerie. Furniture still adorned the chipped, wooden planks with thick dust covering the various surfaces. The air was cold, with the smell of wood mingling with the ever-so-slightly scent of moldy food left on the plates. It looked like the people that had been living here had just walked away during their dinner.
“I wonder who lived here.” you thought out loud. Your voice was barely a whisper like the people were still sleeping upstairs. Although muted by the carpet, the floorboards creaked when you stepped inside, the fabric now muddy from your shoes. Arthur was shaking the planks nailed to the windows from the inside, making sure they would stay in their place
“Come on. I’ll keep a lookout for a while, see if I can hear them passing by. Get some rest.” He pointed you toward a botched chair in the corner. It didn’t look like the most comfortable chair, but it would have to do for the night. Not that you had a choice anyway.
“Are you sure? I can accompany you if you want.” Your words grew warm at his selfness, looking at him with a prolonged gaze as he reached to take off his jacket. He held it towards you and, as he secured his hat, bowed his head as he headed out the door.
“Nah, get some rest, alright?” You were left in the darkness as the door closed, trembling from the shivers racking through you with the heavy jacket hanging from your grasp.
-
What the hell was he thinking? He daydreamed about you like he had every right to imagine you that way when you rode with him. Hell, you would probably spit in his face if you knew that most of his thoughts involved you. What a sad man you are, Arthur Morgan, thinking you could ever get your hands on her. Pure and warm, that’s what you were. You were too good. Your care extended further than his ever had, treating him like he deserved your kindness. Deserved you. He kept his distance from you, only speaking to you when necessary to try to make you understand that he wasn’t a good man—but being as close to you as he had during the ride shut off his brain entirely.
The guilt ran through him as he sat on the porch, leaning against the door. Being in the same space as you proved to be too much for him now, the smell of your hair still clouding his mind. Shit, it was impossible to keep you out of his mind. Raising from the coldness of the ground, he swept his hands over his face, leaning his arms to rest against the fence as he observed into the distance. The place was surrounded by trees, somewhat deep in the woods, quite far from the path. He hoped it was far enough, not wanting to put you in more danger than he already had. 
Irritation was still running through him at the outcome of the situation. He knew this would happen. At least they got away with the money. But if Cornwall’s men managed to get ahold of Bill, Uncle, and Charles, it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t feel up for a rescue mission right now; they had far more complicated things to think about.
-
As you sat in the chair for a while, wrapped in the oversized jacket Arthur lent you, your eyes became familiar with your surroundings. Finally, you could breathe out, although the stress from the predicament you just got yourself into raced through your body, making it hard for you to rest. It was dark and cold, and you missed the comforts of falling asleep in your bedroll at the lookout, surrounded by the women’s quiet whispering. Although, you felt safe enough knowing Arthur was outside in case anyone would stumble upon you two. 
There was a large table in the middle of the room where Arthur had placed his satchel and some benches adorning the walls by the stove. A fireplace was by one of the walls with various portraits perched on it, along with some candles and other trinkets. Yawning, you stepped up from the seat, wrapping the jacket tighter around you as you stepped towards the wall, examining the portraits. You wondered who they were as you ran your nimble fingers over the dusty surface, a stoic face now starting to show. You laughed slightly under your breath; the man looked downright horrified as the woman beside him smiled warmly. Was that his wife? You turned the frame, squinting so you could read the writing. 
“Ms.Hevett with son, Mr.Hevett.” Hmm, they both appeared to be very old. Mamas-boy maybe? You giggled again, putting your hand over your mouth to dull the sound. Returning the portrait, you glanced around. Oh, maybe Arthur had a match to light the candle! Well, of course, he had a match; he smoked every chance he got.
You tiptoed towards the door as it creaked when you pushed it open quietly. You called out for Arthur gently, seeing him leaning on the fence. His head turned to yours, alarmed, looking behind you as his hand rested on the gun in his holster. “You alright?” The words flew out from his mouth as he tensed, walking towards you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wondered if you have a match.” He looked at you for a moment, then furrowed his brows as he grabbed the edge of the door. “A match? Why? You don’t smoke.” 
You glanced sheepishly at him now, realizing you might be bothering him. “Well, there’s a candle in there, and I just, I, would be more comfortable if it wasn’t so dark. That’s all.” He scoffed slightly at your words. “You supposed to be sleepin’; what does it matter if it’s dark?” He asked you in disbelief. You only pursed your lips, staring at him as the moonlight reflected on his face. A sigh left him as he beckoned you inside, giving one last glance around the outside of the cabin. 
“This candle right here. If only we had some firewood, we could also warm the place. See, there’s a fireplace! I imagine the house was cozy when it wasn’t run-down.” You babbled as he followed behind you, reaching for a match in his bag. As he did at camp yesterday, he lights the match at the sole of his boot. Immediately, it casts the room in a warm blanket. It didn’t feel so eerily anymore, and the flame flickered around you softly.
He raised his brows as he spoke. “First, you want me to light this damned candle, and now you want me to go chop us up some wood?” He sounded more amused than his earlier cranky mood, but still, you looked at him unamused. “It was just an observation, alright?”
He chuckled lightly as he looked at you, observing you for a few seconds before speaking up. “You okay to sleep now?” His rough voice spoke the words as he motioned to leave again.
“Um, sure. Arthur, did you know a mother and her son had been living here? It said so on the portrait. I wonder what happened to them?” The words left you hurriedly, looking to say something to make him stay with you for a while longer. It was hard to explain, but you felt safer with him. In here. With you. 
You pointed towards the portrait. He glanced at you shortly before stepping back into the room. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been here a few times.” His answer was short.
“Oh.”
The air was stuffy, and the tension grew thick as you looked at each other. Neither of you knew what to say since Arthur always seemed to get tongue-tied around you, and you were unsure of how to converse with him. You draped the jacket even closer, staring at the floorboards.
“Ya still cold?” He startled you slightly, your head perking up at his words. “Umm, yeah, a little, but the jacket’s helping… so.” He nodded at you, grabbing the belt with his hands, tightening his lips together, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was expecting you to say something, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.
“Oh, sorry, you’re probably cold as well. Here you can have it back.” You stepped towards him, the jacket slipping off your shoulder. 
“No, no. You take it, I’m used to it, alright?” His words were kind and selfless, and you felt terrible for not bringing your own jacket. Of course, he was cold; it was freezing in here. Knowing he cared enough for you to put your comfort before his own made your heart beat slightly faster. 
Once again, he went to exit the door and leave you in the empty house, but the moment he opened it, the words left you before you could stop them.
“Will you stay in here?” It was silent as the raindrops started to fall outside, pattering on the roof as the tension grew suffocatingly thick. Glancing at you with his head bowed, he cleared his throat. 
“It’s just I’ll feel safer with you in here. That’s all.” Feeling the need to explain your sudden outburst, you felt a blush rise at the humiliating situation. He probably thought you were childish, finding your words annoying and demanding.
Giving you a curt nod, he closed the door behind him, pushed one of the side tables against the door, and locked it.
“It won’t rain in, so don’t worry. Now,” He leaned back on the chair by the table in the middle of the room, putting one leg over his other to lean the ankle against it, taking his gun out of the holster and cleaning the dirty metal. “Get some sleep. We’ll set out in the morning.”
You listened to him this time and sat on the chair, bringing your legs up towards your chest as you closed your eyes. You knew it would. be hard for sleep to find you, but you still gave it a chance. 
-
You were wrong; you were able to sleep. But it didn’t last you very long, for the cold had seeped through both skin and bones, leaving you with tremors running through your already shaking body. You could still hear the thunder in the distance and the heavy rain splattering against the wooden roof. You opened your eyes, finding another pair staring right at you. You felt your stomach turn, the display of emotions running deep in his eyes as he observed you. His legs were spread wide where he sat, keeping sight of both you and the door in case someone barged through. The flickering of the faint light hit his eyes, painting his otherwise blue eyes a darker tone. It felt like a dream.
“Alright, that’s enough.” A heavy sigh left the man as he stood up. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked over to you. Grabbing under your arms, he lifted you as he sat on the chair. Gently, he placed you on his lap, with your head resting on his neck and legs draped over his thighs. 
“Jesus, woman, you’re freezing.” As he talked lowly, you could feel his voice rumble in his chest, the feeling soothing against you.
Oh, darn it, he was warm. How could he be so warm? No thoughts except warming your freezing frame made you wrap your arms around his waist, the thick jacket covering both of you. You felt his hands run over your arms, trying to warm you up as you moved against him, relishing in the heat from his body as you nuzzled your cheeks in the crook of his neck.
And finally, you fell asleep. 
-
“Arthur.” Jolting awake, Arthur’s eyes widened in the candle-lit room. His whole body tensed up as he gazed down at you, alarmed. 
Seemingly unhurt, a worried expression was on your beautiful face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked you. Shushing him, you placed your hand on his bicep carefully. 
“You were mumbling in your sleep. Is everything alright?” Your eyes were tired but warm as he blinked down at you, now noticing his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you towards him. “Yeah, ’m alright.” His words were low, choked at the sight of you staring this tenderly at him. This was a dream, he told himself.
As his arms relaxed around you slightly, you wrapped yours tighter around his neck. He was so suffocating, his scent surrounding you from every direction as you basked in its grasp. His eyes were intense, the now sullen look he always carried vulnerable, as the folds around his eyes evened out. It still felt like you were in a dream, and you longed for it never to end. Good dreams never found you, but now you had it in your hands as the comforting blanket cloaked around you like Arthur was wrapped around your scorching body.
No words were spoken as you gasped slightly, nimble hands stroking up his arms as the broadness stretched against his shirt. His cheek was warm when you placed your trembling fingers on his scruff, tracing small figures as you observed the scar on his jaw and the slight bend of his nose from getting it dislocated often. As you grazed his skin, your eyes never left him, even when he closed them to revel in your touch. Being this close to him was comforting; the contact was foreign to you but something you had longed for. Feeling wanted by him was what you wanted your dreams to turn into for the longest time. And it finally did.
The world around you grew quiet; only your breathing was audible as his chest moved under you, heavy intakes of breath raking through him. Letting your gaze fall to his lips, yours parted slightly. Through hazy eyes, you closed the small distance between you. A warm surge spread through you as his chapped lips met yours, his slight beard tickling your skin. A low moan escaped at the contact, and your heart burst at the seams, the fire flaring and oozing with each movement. You always wondered what pressing your lips against his would be like, his stoic character making it feel like your wishes were miles away. But now you knew, and it felt better than you imagined. His hands were still around your waist, holding you tightly as you felt all the excitement overflowing in your veins at his apparent contentment of your actions.  
You snuggled into him, holding his cheeks and caressing them with your thumb. Slowly, you leaned your head back, feeling dizzy from the emotions clouding your brain. He followed you as you pulled away, almost as if you hauled him towards you like tied with a lasso. His breath warmed your skin as his lips were placed in the conjecture of your neck as he leaned against you. As you giggled slightly from the tickling sensation, he breathlessly chuckled as he left wet trails up to the space under your ear, caressing the small of your back with his large hands. His gloved hand against the fabric of your blouse felt enticing, your back arching due to his touch, your upper body now pressed flush against him. You held his head close as your hands were buried in his thick hair. His lips found yours again, shifting against you fervently as he moved with more vigor. 
Of course, it was a dream, Arthur thought to himself. It bled into every nightly thought he has had of you now for the longest time. Your scent reached his nostrils. It was so sweet, so you. Small arms were wrapped around him, and your legs were now glued at either side of his thighs as your soft lips touched the skin under his ears in a silent kiss. Shivers wracked through his body as he ran his coarse hand alongside your waist, the soft woolen fabric hugging the curve of your waist tightly. Small gasps emitted from you as your hands ran up his stomach to his chest, planting small, tender packs against the slightly sunburnt skin, looking up at him through hooded eyes. Sinful, that’s how you looked. 
He lifted you slightly, capturing your soft lips in his. The sweet caress of your skin against his felt divine, the wet noise of your tongues finding each other mingling with the sound of the rain outside. As the jacket slid down your shoulder, the man was left staring at the soft curve of your round breasts, revealed from the unbuttoned cotton of your blouse, the slight hardness of your nipples showing through the fabric.
“Arthur”
“Mmh.” He was too far gone now, but he kept assuring himself he was dreaming. You would have never put your hands on him if he wasn’t. He had noticed how you huddled closer to him from the cold when you rode on the horse, your figure nestling against his, curves snug against him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you aware of what you were doing to him? He was still trying to recover from what transpired in his head when you escaped the riders. No, not from the bullets seeking to pierce his flesh, but your bottom. Your soft, tantalizing rear. It had been flush against him as you leaned forward earlier, the round hips taunting him temptingly, almost as if they begged for his hands to caress the soft curves that stretched the fabric that covered it. Damned skirt. What he would have done to push it up your legs and reveal the tender flesh hidden beneath them. Your slit bare against the saddle’s leather as you squirmed, jiggling your cheeks like you were begging Arthur to give in to your desire. Shit. He shouldn’t have been thinking about you like that, not when you were right before him.
Leaning forward slightly, you ran your fingers through Boadicea’s mane as you patted her neck. You spoke, but the words that left your mouth turned into nonsense in his clouded head. 
He had given you some nonsensical answer as he stared down at you through hazy eyes as your hips moved in sync with the horse’s motion, words flexed mindlessly out of his mouth as his restraint seemed non-existent. Your terms of cheerful disbelief grew distant as heat traveled through his body at his unholy thoughts, mouth too dry to give you a coherent answer. His hands moving on the reigns, trying to keep them from indulging your softness against him so he could feel the tremendous friction he was sure would send him straight to heaven. Christ, you riding on a horse should be illegal.
But now you were here, with him, and he had your soft body in his grasp. The tension from his earlier thoughts became apparent, his hands moving on their own as they familiarized themselves with your curves that felt so real. Too real.
Suddenly, you felt his hands on your button as he hastily lifts you. Automatically, your legs seek ahold of his waist, arms around his neck. He moved quickly over the floor as the lightning lit up the room from the cracks in the door, laying you down on the table and leaning down to cover your body with his. He was so close to you now, feeling every part of him press against you—every aspect. 
Snap!
Frozen in place, wide eyes adorn your face from the sudden sound. Arthur was still above you as he sharpened his ears, finding it difficult to hear since the rain hit the ground loudly outside. The snap had been just outdoor, like someone stepping on a branch. Panicked, you tried to find a reasonable explanation: an animal, a branch falling, or maybe Boadicea had moved.
Slowly, Arthur raised his body from yours, leaving you flustered and scared on the table. With a frightened stare, you looked at him as he raised his finger to his mouth, slowly stepping away so the wooden planks wouldn’t creek. Leaning against the door’s side, his hand rested on his pistol. Stay still. His eyes told you to do as he said, and so you did. It’s not like you were able to anyway, your muscles petrified. They had found you. The worst outcome filled your mind; what would they do to you if they got the upper hand? Turn you in, or worse, put a bullet between your eyes?
The loud noise of the door slamming open made you shoot your eyes toward it, finding Arthur standing in the doorway with his pistol pointed out into the dark.
“Aw, shit.” His throaty voice was laced with disbelief, making you lift your head from the table. Your laugh filled the space as the back of your head hit the table with a loud clang, eyes squeezed shut from the sight in front of you. It had seemed like Boadicea had found a friend, the stallion standing still from the sudden intrusion and ran away in haste. “C’mon, get outta here!” The surprised man cursed after the horse, beckoning it out as your hands found your face. The adrenaline still racing through you made your hands shake as the hilarity of the situation made you speechless. Placing your hand on your racing heart, you sat up as the old cutlery clinked underneath you, hearing Arthur’s loud, angry steps hit the porch steps. 
Standing before you, he sighed at your amusement, but you could see a slight smile worm its way underneath his frown. Although it quickly disappeared as he gazed at you before him. Right.
What in the world were you thinking? Now clear-minded, the intimacy you had shared entered your mind. Shame rose in you as your cheeks blazed, taking ahold of your blouse to cover your exposed state.
“Um…” You didn’t have the chance to finish the sentence before he cut you off. Hastily, he grabbed his rifle on the table and the pouch in harsh movements, making sure not to touch you before he went towards the door with big steps.
“It’s soon morning. Stay here until then; we’ll leave in a while.”
After the door slammed shut, the quietness was deafening. Now alone, you could see the slightest bit of light entering the cracks in the walls, but it didn’t ease the heaviness in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream, you thought to yourself. Every minute had been actual: his coarse hands, desperate lips, and body heat. If you closed your eyes and focused enough, you could still feel the traces of fingers over your clothing as his smell reached your nose once again, like he had united with the ghosts of this house and now haunted you. Taunting you. Why had he reacted so yet touched you so fiercely? You felt a pang in your chest at the thought, not understanding. 
Opening your eyes, you buttoned your blouse in shame and put your hands on your cheeks as you lifted yourself off the table. It was still chilly in the room but not as bad as the night before. Mindlessly, you wandered over the space, sat in the chair where Arthurs’s jacket lay, and brought your knees up to your chest, hugging it tight with your arms. The blissful moment you had together faded, the warm touches dimmed into cold, malicious blows to your heart as the hope of finally having a pleasant dream vanished, the moment turning into an all too familiar nightmare.
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