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werecreature-addicted · 4 months ago

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Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(

TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.

You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.

Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.

You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.

You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.

You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.

In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.

John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.

You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.

You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.

Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.

It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.

"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.

It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.

You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.

It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.

He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.

"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolf x reader #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend

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lunarianscorpio · 11 months ago

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Courtship: Venus Signs (part 1)

Earth signs Desire commitment and a lasting partnership.

♑︎ Capricorn Venus:

Traits:

Loyal, protective, quietly romantic, reserved, thoughtful, and considerate in matters of love, romance, aesthetic, self-worth, and money.

Practical about themselves, understanding their worth in the material world and how others perceive them.

May appear aloof, but knows precisely what they want in a partner.

Will patiently wait for the right person who fulfills their needs and standards.

Prioritizes career or finances during single periods.

Potential imbalance if partnered with a water Mars sign, as they might yearn for love despite being comfortable alone.

Speaks highly of you, openly expressing affection and admiration.

Brings up your name in conversations, showcasing a deep pride and love.

Holds themselves to a standard of perfection, pushing for continuous improvement and sometimes feeling resentful for falling short.

Learns that self-worth is a gradual process, not a forced ascent.

Refined aesthetic taste with a strong inclination towards the arts, especially visual arts.

Enjoys concrete and physical expressions like sculpting, painting, and escaping into books.

Looks for love when it aligns with life plans and flows naturally.

Enjoys darker colors, earth tones, and may favor black without flashy appearances.

Dresses in a reserved, chic, professional, or vintage-inspired manner.

Appreciates rich earthy smells like coffee grounds, vetiver, and rainy woods, as well as clean spicy scents.

Loves food, particularly rich dishes with sentimental value.

Very good with money, enjoys it, and doesn't require much assistance.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to corporate types, mysterious, closed off, enigmatic, classy, and practical individuals.

May be drawn to businessmen, morticians, older people, architects, and mystics, venus in taurus, virgo, capricorn, scorpio & aquarius.

Romantic Behavior:

Takes love seriously with a guarded heart, feeling deeply in love.

Very romantic but often feels like gestures aren't sufficient, leading to inaction.

Shy and rarely flirts, but when they do it's straightforward and to the point.

Indicators of interest include trying to impress through achievements or appearance changes.

Finds dating challenging and tends to avoid it.

In relationships, seeks reassurance of worth, cherishment, and likes to be in charge but remains loyal for the long haul.

♉︎Taurus Venus:

Traits:

Intense, sweet, amorous, dependable, highly romantic, and artistic in matters of money, self-worth, and relationships.

Struggle with self-worth, often comparing themselves to a mental aesthetic and others' looks; need to recognize and appreciate their internal and external beauty.

Enjoys various creative pursuits, particularly art in all its forms, including poetry and fashion; may also have a love for cooking and music.

Craves pampering and security for genuine romantic love.

Adores style and cultivates a unique, expressive fashion sense rather than following trends.

Good with colors, with a preference for all colors, avoiding overly loud or aggressive shades.

Prefers luxurious and flavorful foods, often indulging in sweets; enjoys rich and intoxicating smells like vetiver and Spanish moss.

Envisions an ideal partner but may find it challenging to meet someone worthy.

Values luxury and comfort in relationships.

Willing to test suitors to identify the one truly devoted to love.

Surprisingly, adept at managing money; understands when to save and when to spend, with purchases typically substantial.

Attraction Preferences:

Looks for well-dressed, classy, debonair, and sturdy individuals who are reliable and appealing; may also be drawn to the starving artist.

Finds bankers, farmers, businesspeople, artists, singers, and chefs interesting romantically, as well as venus in capricorn, taurus, virgo, pisces and cancer.

Romantic Approach:

Shy and reticent in matters of the heart due to intense and deep feelings of love.

Signs of a Venus in Taurus crush include becoming soft-spoken, gentle, touchy, or direct stares.

Prefers silent coaxing and seduction, often not outwardly showing intentions but putting extra effort into appearance.

Enjoys giving little gifts and favors to catch someone's attention.

Loves being pursued, feeling special, and indulging in classical romance with all senses involved.

Like Capricorn, can wait patiently for the right match.

Envisions a future with you and strives to bring joy into your life.

Unable and unwilling to imagine a moment without you, showcasing deep emotional attachment

Craves physicality, contact, and commitment for a stable relationship; highly responsive and respects differences to achieve a harmonious equilibrium

♍︎ Virgo Venus:

Traits:

Analytical, helpful, idealistic, altruistic, and witty in dealing with aesthetic, self-worth, money, relationships, and romance.

Struggles with self-worth due to intense analysis of aesthetic and high expectations for perfection in artistic endeavors.

Needs to learn self-love by embracing flaws as part of the mortal experience.

May avoid Venusian activities out of fear of not being good enough, despite possessing skills in art, especially in sculpting, painting, gardening, and fitness.

Enjoys soft colors reminiscent of spring, woody browns, and greens.

Dresses in a conservative and professional style, conveying their identity concisely.

Prefers smells associated with comfort, cleanliness, citrus, vanilla, or fresh sheets.

Health-conscious and selective about food, considering taste and health reasons.

Analytical and good with money, excelling in facts, figures, and understanding the monetary value.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to practical, healing, intelligent, logical, and detail-oriented individuals.

Finds mechanics, scientists, doctors, researchers, and teachers attractive, venus in taurus, capricorn, virgo, cancer & scorpio.

Romantic Approach:

Shy and hesitant to initiate, prefers being pursued in romantic relationships.

Not inclined towards overt displays of affection or emotional expressions.

Tests partners subtly for devotion; silently contemplates moving on if betrayed.

Displays profound kindness, aiming to enhance your days with subtle yet impactful gestures.

May struggle with dating due to the ability to magnify minor flaws in others.

Indicates a crush by offering help with projects or problems, showing a genuine desire to assist.

Craves deep unconditional love and struggles with criticism due to self-critique.

Needs reassurance and to be cherished, emphasizing the existence of perfection through love.

Fire Signs: Seek thrill and excitement, desire an intoxicating romance.

♐Sagittarius Venus:

Traits:

Happy-go-lucky, adventurous, moralistic, and charitable in matters of self-worth, love, money, aesthetic, and romance.

Generally maintains a healthy self-worth with contagious perky confidence.

Enjoys flirting, playing the field, and has a childlike spirit, but must avoid becoming overly cocky.

Fondness for literature, poetry, spoken arts, and may engage in creative pursuits like music.

Views love as a game for entertainment.

Needs freedom; relationship flourishes with the right balance.

Prone to boredom and drawn to creative, unattainable partners.

Loves games, including sports or video games.

Looks for love randomly but avoids feeling tied down, keeping options open during the search.

Enjoys dramatic and vibrant colors that evoke a happy or jovial vibe.

Dresses in a comfortable and interesting sporty or hippy-esque manner.

Willing to compromise, recognizing the importance of give-and-take in maintaining the relationship.

Prioritizes the relationship over the desire for control.

Finds mentally stimulating and "foreign" foods delightful, especially spicy dishes.

Prefers earthy and floral smells, like fresh-cut flowers.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to different, free-thinking, scholarly, and jocular individuals.

May be drawn to professors, older people, athletes, large individuals, or sages, venus in sagittarius, leo, aries, aquarius and gemini.

Romantic Approach:

Doesn't take love too seriously and sees it as something to be enjoyed.

Expresses crush openly or tries to make the person laugh if attracted.

Enjoys dating, meeting new people, and tends to grow infatuated quickly.

Needs space and time to feel independent in romance.

Requires expansive and big gestures for true fulfillment.

Dislikes clichés, dense individuals, and clinginess.

Seeks a partner in crime and confidant for genuine engagement in a relationship.

♈︎Aries Venus:

Traits:

Pioneering, vivacious, unapologetic, and feisty in matters of self-worth, style, money, and relationships.

Healthy self-worth, with Venus influencing interests and self-definition.

In the arts for making striking, edgy statements rather than adhering to traditional beauty standards.

Fond of debate and mental combat; values independence and security for genuine love.

Striking style, athletic/provocative appearance, or an appearance that appears indifferent.

Fondness for warm colors and simple, comfortable fabrics; may enjoy spicy food and earthy smells.

Not overly concerned with money, views it as a necessity; can spend on expensive hobbies and toys.

Attraction Preferences:

Looks for spontaneous, fun-loving, extroverted, and exciting lovers; may find quiet but in-control individuals appealing.

Attracted to athletes, soldiers, mechanics (technical thinking), rebels, lawyers, construction workers, and rough individuals romantically and physically, venus in aries, leo, sagittarius, aquarius and gemini.

Romantic Approach:

Driven, direct, and open in the arena of love; willing to try anything once.

Sign of a Venus in Aries crush is teasing in good fun; loves to show off and impress the object of affection.

Enjoys the chase and seduction, though may grow bored quickly; awkwardly romantic and wants to pamper loved ones.

Enjoys the chase but may get bored once the conquest is achieved.

Requires physical and mental stimulation to stay in love.

In relationships, desires independence and control; dislikes being told what to do or competing.

Needy romantically, vocal, and somewhat pushy in expressing desires; values feeling appreciated and being treated as number one.

Reveals their vulnerable sides to you, emphasizing transparency and reciprocity.

Demonstrates an all-encompassing love once they've truly embraced their feelings for you.

♌︎Leo Venus:

Traits:

Bright, magnanimous, fun-loving, romantic, and superfluous in matters of self-worth, love, relationships, money, and aesthetic.

Self-worth can vary from low to overly high, often compensating and may appear arrogant.

Requires constant reassurance of self-value, sensitive to insults, and hides struggles behind a smile.

Enjoys the arts, excelling in activities where they can be in the spotlight, including sports and physical activities.

Seeks love when feeling unappreciated but waits for genuine needs.

Dresses in a sporty, casual, flashy, professional, or debonair style with a fondness for bright colors, gold, red, and occasionally black.

Enjoys giving attention and expects occasional reciprocity.

May become overwhelming when self-absorbed, needs grounding.

Loves spicy aromas, such as cinnamon, cardamom, and clove, as well as smooth scents like vanilla.

Enjoys indulging in various foods, especially childlike treats.

May spend generously, particularly for the enjoyment of others, requiring assistance in budgeting.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to showy, artistic, athletic, charismatic, and powerful individuals.

Loves glamour and grandiose declarations in relationships.

Seeks a loyal and committed partner who enhances their ego.

May find appeal in bosses, artists, actors, soldiers, royalty archetypes, and athletes.

Romantic Approach:

Goes all out in love, courting, pursuing, and wooing simultaneously.

Enjoys spectacular romance and is not shy about dating or the dating scene.

Expresses interest by going out of their way to impress and compliment, may straightforwardly communicate their feelings.

Desires to be treated like royalty, pampered, and made to feel special.

Expects reciprocity in passion, intensity, and drama to keep the relationship fresh.

Dislikes feeling unimportant and needs consistent expressions of love, yet maintains independence.

Water Signs: Seek a fairy tale romance, searching for a Prince or Princess.

♓︎Pisces Venus:

Traits:

Dreamy, romantic, loving, creative, and fantastical in matters of love, self-worth, money, relationships, and aesthetics.

May have a deluded sense of self, occasionally needing help to see themselves clearly.

Shy but enjoys occasional flirtation, especially in a playful context.

Attentively listens and remembers your words, valuing communication as a way to understand and love you better.

Enjoys hearing you talk, using it as an opportunity to deepen their understanding of you.

Enjoys art, particularly music, dance, and literature.

Often seeks love, viewing themselves as a part of a whole, searching for a profound connection.

Shy in pursuing but makes subtle gestures to be closer.

Needs to occasionally be more selfish in relationships.

Vulnerable to being taken advantage of due to an overly loving nature.

Loves colors reminiscent of the ocean and the sky, including dark to light blues, greens, purples, and black.

Fashion style can vary from free-flowing, ocean-breeze attire to trendy runway looks or understated appearances to avoid attention.

Enjoys aromas like the ocean, fruit, and candy.

Has a big appetite and loves seafood, sugary sweets, and food from different cultures.

Not overly materialistic but acquires money effortlessly, often spending it on loved ones.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to mystical, aloof, artistic, emotionally expressive, and structured individuals.

Compatibility with sailors, psychics, healers, artists, or therapists, venus in pisces, cancer, scorpio and maybe taurus.

Romantic Behavior:

Shy yet not afraid to initiate romantic gestures.

Signs of interest include leaving messages unread (a commitment test) and engaging in deep conversations beyond typical bedtime hours.

Prefers soulmate connections over casual dating.

Needs lots of love, affection, and care in a relationship.

Dislikes being perceived as overly dependent and can be disillusioned if their idealized image of a loved one shatters.

♋︎Cancer Venus:

Traits:

Affectionate, sentimental, sweet, romantic, and receptive in matters of self-worth, money, style, aesthetic, partnership, and love.

Healthy self-worth usually influenced by family perceptions and upbringing.

Tendency to become engrossed in memories, potentially distorting them, leading to psychic disharmony.

Enjoys emotionally fulfilling hobbies such as reading, acting, cooking, baking, gardening, and finds stimulation in architecture or interior design.

Looks for settling-down material in love, avoiding games.

Assumes the role of the nurturing mother in relationships.

Magnetic and alluring, attracts partners effortlessly.

Analyzes and evaluates relationships; values security and harmony.

Style may not always be fashionable but holds value and meaning, either following family styles or changing frequently to keep up with trends.

Fondness for pastels, silver shades, especially purple and blue, preferring a dapper look without being overly flashy.

Delighted by scents from home, ocean breeze, or a forest after rain, with a preference for earthy and fruity smells.

Loves cooking and food, attached to traditional dishes, with a craving for sweets and creamy treats.

Excellent with money, skilled in investment and business ownership.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to emotional, trustworthy, familiar, and loving individuals.

May also be drawn to sailors, travelers, royalty archetypes, poets, bodybuilders, and comedians, venus in cancer, scorpio, pisces, taurus and virgo.

Romantic Approach:

Shy but can pursue if necessary, values traditional romance and believes in love traditions like meeting the spouse's family.

Takes relationships seriously, finds letting go challenging.

Signs of a crush include blushing, bashfulness, attempts to talk, and revealing something emotional

Will push back if being used, prioritizes home harmony.

Invests considerable time in your company, fostering comfort and mutual ease.

Their presence brings a soothing calmness, contributing to a deep sense of connection.

Desires a fairy tale experience, appreciates sentimental mementos, and values cherishing shared memories.

Craves emotionality and feels hurt if emotions are disregarded, but can become clingy and manipulative if not moderated.

Extremely loyal and willing to weather the storm, not easily bored.

♏︎Scorpio Venus:

Traits:

Possessive, secretive, romantic, intense, loving, and creative in matters of self-worth, money, love, relationships, and mystique.

Tendency for relatively low self-worth, feeling unattractive, and presenting a facade to compensate, emphasizing the seriousness of love.

Craves cherishment and security for a safe and healthy self-worth.

Subconscious and energetically seductive, attracting both desired and unwanted things.

Displays creativity, viewing destruction as a form of creation, especially in music or activities involving breaking and destroying things.

Enjoys sports, video games, and may have various artistic talents.

Desires to merge and feel complete, often seeking love but may struggle when needing support.

Appreciates a variety of colors, with greens, purples, and blues drawing particular interest.

Dresses in a sporty, dark, artsy, or blending-in manner.

Prefers hypnotic and deep smells like dark chocolate, wine, and musky sea scents.

Enjoys spicy foods and exotic tastes that mentally and physically engage them.

Skilled with money and investing.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to intriguing, mysterious, closed-off, powerful, and emotionally intense individuals.

May find interest in surgeons, doctors, researchers, mystics, sailors, and chemists, venus scorpio, cancer, pisces, capricorn and virgo.

Romantic Approach:

Takes love seriously, aiming to make their significant other happy even if not overtly romantic.

Signs of a crush may include slight rudeness or playful power games, seeking attention harmlessly

Tests partners to determine worth, with potential psychological challenges.

Struggles to trust, but deepens emotionally when in love.

Sensitive to your emotions, quick to notice when you're feeling down.

Focuses on understanding and meeting your love language needs, especially during challenging times.

Serious about love, dating can be challenging.

Needs a partner who understands the intensity of their passions, values trust, and avoids deception.

Loyal and committed once invested in a relationship.

Air Signs: Seek innovators and intellectual connection in romance.

♒Aquarius Venus:

Traits:

Impersonal, creative, original, universal, and shocking in matters of relationships, love, aesthetic, self-worth, and money.

Usually has a healthy, if not detached, self-worth.

May distance themselves from the concept of "the self," which could be psychologically challenging.

Friendly and may unintentionally flirt; aesthetic taste is intriguing, embracing individuality and the arts.

Finds beauty in dreamy, surreal colors like pastels and neons.

Enjoys music, visual arts, poetry, and activities involving the mind like video games.

Looks for love when feeling a lack of a true community and seeks one-on-one connections.

Dress style may be striking, eclectic, modern, or fitting a group aesthetic with a hint of a hippy flair.

Enjoys scents like the ocean, clean, light, breezy, and sweet aromas like cotton candy.

Appreciates complex and unique flavors for mental stimulation.

Good with money but prone to sudden spending sprees.

Preferences in Others:

Likes individuals who are aloof, idiosyncratic, distant, unattainable, intelligent, and humanitarian.

Attracted to musicians, scientists, researchers, astrologers/mystics, and philanthropists, venus in aquarius, gemini, libra, aries and saggitarius.

Romantic Behavior:

Cerebral about love but values its importance.

Indicators of interest are sporadic and confusing, ranging from acting like you don't exist to wanting to hang out.

Struggles with the balance between independence and craving companionship

Craves stability and loyalty despite a logical façade.

Expresses feelings through late-night texts, sharing thoughts they might hesitate to say in person.

Fickle in courtship; captivates with eccentricities.

Values freedom, loyalty, and stability; may become depressed without them.

Not particularly fond of dating and may see it as a waste of time.

In a relationship, seeks reliability paired with excitement and random, unexpected events.

Once committed, tends to stay, being a fixed sign.

♊︎Gemini Venus:

Traits:

Charming, poetic, sociable, witty, and cunning in matters of self-worth, love, aesthetic, finances, and relationships.

Self-worth tied to communication skills and fitting into the community, needing to learn that being liked doesn't equate to true beauty.

Enjoys various creative pursuits, including dance, music, poetry, and a genuine love for conversation; may also have a fondness for sports.

Requires stimulation in a relationship, finds love more fun than necessary.

Trendy in fashion, stylish, adaptable to changing trends; values fashion as a form of communication.

Likes bright colors, especially various shades of blues, and tends to shy away from dark colors.

Enjoys a variety of food, likes to be intellectually engaged with what they eat, with a fondness for sour and childlike sweet foods.

Attracted to citrusy, sharp, and clean smells, such as fresh sheets.

Doesn't overly focus on money, invests well, and can be impulsive with hobbies or travel urges

Thrives on communication; requires mental stimulation.

Loses interest if not intellectually engaged.

Easily uses people for temporary connections until captivated elsewhere.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to intellectual, well-informed, sporty, suave, and aesthetically pleasing individuals; may appreciate the "wholesome person next door" aesthetics.

Finds PR people, librarians, professors, bosses, writers, actors, athletes, or local individuals attractive, compatible with venus in aquarius, gemini, libra, sagittarius & aries.

Romantic Approach:

Flirty, fun-loving, and eager in romantic relationships.

Displays goofiness or attempts to make the other person laugh when they have a crush.

Enjoys intellectual play and wants a partner who can match their quickness.

Thrives on humor, eureka moments, and engagement of the mind.

Enjoys the thrill of the chase but may grow bored with monotony; long-distance relationships can work well.

Loves learning about their partner, so keeping them guessing and engaged is crucial.

♎Libra Venus:

Traits:

Harmonious, diplomatic, balanced, romantic, and idealistic in self-worth, money, love, and relationships.

Self-worth is influenced by how others treat them, seeking approval and universal love, but can struggle with feeling not good enough.

Needs to learn self-love and not rely solely on others for integral well-being.

Enjoys flirting and charm, finding exhilaration in social interactions and fun with potential mates and friends.

Naturally gifted in the arts, excelling in fashion, architecture, and textiles.

Actively looks for love, deeming it important and feeling lonely without it.

Ruled by Venus; loves beauty, luxury, comfort, and diplomacy.

Attracts potential partners effortlessly due to appealing qualities.Has varied color preferences based on cultural definitions of balance, avoiding reactions in people.

Trendy and hip in dressing, adapting to current aesthetics without growing overly fond of styles.

Enjoys bright, sunny smells like orange and mango, along with fruity, gentle, and sugary scents.

Adores sweet foods, indulges the senses, and may overspend on luxuries, requiring help in budgeting.

Attraction Preferences:

Attracted to polite, intelligent, artistic, and politically savvy individuals.

May find interest in lawyers, decorators, doctors, venus in libra, gemini, aquarius, leo and sagittarius.

Romantic Approach:

Ruled by social convention, enjoys romantic gestures seen in movies and media.

Can be passive romantically but enjoys playing cat and mouse games, flirting, and having fun, even if shyly.

Signs of a crush include compliments, offers to help, and extending invitations to social events.

Needs a fun, light, and very romantic partner to feel complete.

Values trust in friends and lovers, seeking someone to share both joy and dark times

May withdraw if harmony is disrupted; values care and nurturing.

Can harbor deep rage if pushed to the limit in a toxic relationship.

Communicates emotions through their eyes, conveying the depth of their love without words.

Enjoys the dating scene, finding joy in getting to know potential partners.

Dislikes crass or unpleasant partners who embarrass them.

Lives in a realm of pure ideals, exhibiting prince/princess charming-like qualities.

#astrology #venus #venus in the signs #venus in aries #venus in taurus #venus in gemini #venus in cancer #venus in leo #venus in virgo #venus in libra #venus in scorpio #venus in sagittarius #venus in capricorn #venus in aquarius #venus in pisces #astrology observations #astro community #astro notes #lunarianscorpio

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kitten4sannie · 18 days ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟏 - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞

pairing: mafia! ot8 x undercover officer! reader (fem)

genre: mafia/organized crime au, drama, angst

w.c: 3.3k

ch. summary: after countless months of preparation and ensuing anxiety, you finally revisit the infamous Black Pirates, but from the other side of the law, and it’s almost as if you’ve never left.

ch. warnings: not too many��.uhhh very light depictions of violence, a bit of blood, a bit of manhandling (not the sexy kind), mingi is unhinged (?) and has a gun lmao, no smut this time but just you waittttt

a/n: hi thereeeee i cannot tell you how excited i am to share this with you all 🥹 this is my first mini series and i’ve never tackled anything this big before so please be patient with me when it comes to updates~~ (also this chapter will be the shortest of them all given it’s the intro hehe) but aaaaaaa i’m so happy we can go on this journey together >w< now sit back, relax, and enjoy ~ and if you like, please pleasee share your thoughts and feedback with me <33

song rec: scene 1 - value ~ ateez, concrete jungle ~ bad omens

fic masterlist

“Are you ready for this?”

All you could hear was your heart thumping inside your ears, unable to focus on your Commander in Chief’s loaded question, tuning into the sounds of keyboard tapping and faceless chattering about the current crimes and cases that were plugging up the figurative drain of your local prescient, rather than what he was saying to you. Were you ready to infiltrate one of the most prevalent crime families your law enforcement agency has come to know and loathe over the better part of the year? Not as their friend, but this time, as an enemy? They had half your city in the palm of their hands and were itching to take it over, pushing the drug and gun trade into overdrive, washing countless loads of dirty dollar bills, and in turn, leaving you and your agency to clean up the mess they left behind — and what a mess they always made. Bullets, bodies, and broken dreams. Crime and punishment. Officers, regulations, and yellow tape. An endless game of chess that nobody ever seemed to win. The perpetrators of this game, their faces never left your mind, etching their likeness inside the grooves of your memory even after being away from them all for so long, at least, until now — if you stopped being such a goddamn pussy and answered your boss.

“Y/N…? You can back out if you need to…” He gave you an apologetic smile. “Given your history, I know it might be a lot on you. We can always put somebody else in instead.”

“No..!” you suddenly protested, bringing a closed fist near your mouth as you forcefully cleared your throat. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve been preparing myself for this since you helped me…change course and join the academy.” Realizing you were digging your nails into your palms, you relaxed your grip, leaving red idents behind. “And, of course, when we realized what the Kim Estate was actually doing behind closed doors.”

“It certainly wasn’t tennis,” the seasoned man chuckled softly, leaning back slightly inside his fraying office chair, rubbing at his eyes from underneath his reading glasses, not aware of how prominent his eye bags were becoming. He let out a small sigh. “Y/N, I have a lot of trust in you. Going back into that world as an undercover operative is not a walk in the park under any circumstances, but this…they have proven to be unpredictable. I’ll ask you once more. Are you sure you can handle this case?”

In all honesty, you were never too sure what you could handle, both in your professional and personal life, but the uncertainty never stopped you from diving in headfirst. And this, this case, being one of the dominos that would knock them all down, well…it was simply too delicious to pass up.

You stood up, bowing your head to your superior, before giving him a knowing nod. “I’m ready, sir.”

Your closest friend back in your police academy days and fellow undercover partner, Yeonjun, was the first person you spotted upon exiting your boss’ office, well, specifically his bright red hair, slowly navigating past the maze of desks and whispering coworkers to make it over to him, privy to the looks some of them gave you as you slipped past them — though it didn’t phase you anymore. Your past did not define you. At least, that’s what your therapist had been telling you the past few years.

“Hey, partner,” Yeonjun greeted you with a smile, reaching out to hand you a paper cup full of freshly steeped coffee, leaning back to sit down on the crowded surface of his desk. “Tomorrow’s the big day. You ready?”

You took the steaming cup, your jaw tensing as the bitter liquid hit your tastebuds. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Choi.” You always thought of someone else when you uttered that surname. He was the complete opposite of your partner here: calm and collected, soulless when he wanted to be and full of love the very next moment, ticking back between the two like a malfunctioning metronome. You hated him for it.

“Hey, it’s just Yeon, now. Come tomorrow, I won’t be my normal sexy self.” He pulled his freshly printed fake ID out of his t-shirt pocket and held it up to your face, replicating the toothy smile he had inside the picture. “Well, still sexy, yeah?”

Chuckling, you leaned in, studying the fake ID, impressed by how real it looked. “Very sexy, Yeon, but remind me why you dyed your hair red? Is it the quarter life crisis settling in?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, tucking his ID back into his pocket. “Ha-ha, funny. I just thought I should look the part if I’m going in as some renowned hacker.”

You pushed a few files out of the way to lean against Yeonjun’s desk beside him. “Have you been studying up on your skills then?”

“Of course, I have. I know I joke around a lot, but I’ve dedicated my life to this, Y/N…”

You looked down at Yeonjun’s hand, the one that rested on the desk in between you, his fingers drumming against the surface. “Good, because they don’t play around…”

The drumming stopped. Yeonjun turned his head to look at you, a flicker of light inside his brown eyes, like he was trying to understand you. “Do you…ever think about your life before the academy? Before this? Do you wish you could go back?”

You bit into your lip, gazing past Yeonjun’s hand at one of the files that contained information about the very people you would be betraying. “I…just want to be good. Do what’s right…That’s why I left all of that. It’s why I’m here now.”

He leaned over slightly until his shoulder pressed into yours, using his pinky to nudge at yours. “Not many would do what you’ve done, y’know. Giving up their way of life for something like this.”

You nudged back, staring into the half empty cup of coffee you were still holding onto. “Not many people are this stupid.”

“Not stupid.” Yeonjun pretended to clink his empty paper cup against yours, giving you a soft smile. “Brave. You’re the key component of this entire operation, Y/N. That’s huge. You’ll make a difference. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“Maybe…you’re right,” you replied softly, once again distracted by the folder from before, the one that was slightly open just enough to reveal the image of a man with slick back hair, dressed in quaint Victorian style clothes, with a big bow wrapped around his neck. Kim Hongjoong, owner of the Kim Estate and leader of the Black Pirate Organization. You knew him all too well, and all his closest cohorts. Would they recognize you? You hadn’t seen them since you were a young girl, forgotten by most and lost inside a system that didn’t care about you, except for the ambitious young man that swore he would one day be sat atop his ivory tower with those that followed his path. And now there he was, living the high life inside his big shiny mansion, sipping on fine wine, while you were still forcing down bitter instant coffee day after day, surrounded by people that looked at you, but never really saw you for what you were, whatever that was. Maybe Hongjoong knew.

“Y/N…? You’re staring off into space again…” Yeonjun whispered near you, getting up from the desk once you came back to Earth. “Anyways, it’s late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. We should get going.”

“You’re right, we need as much rest as we can get.” You stretched out your legs before standing back up, just now noticing that you were the only two left inside the workspace, the light from your Chief’s office still peeking out past the dusty blinds. Maybe your Chief knew.

Packing up your briefcase, you smiled at Yeonjun. “Should I dye my hair too?”

Yeonjun pouted, resting his own briefcase against his hip. “That’s my thing.”

Particles of dust and dirt filled your lungs, joining the blood that you began to choke on. It hurt to breathe, but your body carried on supplying oxygen to your lungs, not giving you a choice in the matter. You rolled over onto your back to face the night sky, your teary eyes focusing on the twinkling stars and the bright blue moon that loomed over the town, storm clouds rolling past until they blocked out the pretty view. Heavy rain began to pour down, soaking you to the bone. Even though you were losing the will to live, you still held onto the silver pair of scissors that you used to prove a point, even though it might’ve cost you your life. That was still something. However, your dear mentor still stood over you, his neck being clutched tightly by his trembling fingers, crimson slowly slipping past them.

“See what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you? Ungrateful brat,” he choked out in between shallow breaths. Frustrated, he let out a gurgled growl, tossing his bloodied shank onto the dirt road beside his feet. You could’ve sworn you saw tears slip down his flushed cheeks, but then again, it was raining. “I didn’t want to do this…but you gave me no choice.”

His closest companion took a step forward to securely grasp his upper arm, urging him, “Sir, we need to get you to the nearest hideout. I won’t let you bleed out like this.”

The disheveled man’s other trusted subordinate placed a gloved hand on one of his shoulders, squeezing into it with urgency. He surveyed you past his foggy glasses, pushing them up the slope of his nose. His eyes were once filled with a sense of endearment when he looked at you, but now, they held contempt. “She made her decision, sir.”

The struggling leader turned his head to look back and forth between his dear followers, then at his men who all waited behind them, their rain-streaked faces contorted with conflicted apprehension. They stood perfectly still like statues, until the all too familiar sound of sirens rang out in the distance. That’s when they all scattered, like rats, escaping from the flashing lights and disappearing into the dark of the night.

Your soon to be killer was the last one to leave, looming over you as though he was Death himself, beads of rain, sweat, and blood dripping from his chin and down onto your face below. “Just one question, darling…” He held his neck tighter than before, growing dizzier from all the blood loss. “Why?”

A small, self-satisfied laugh painfully bellowed from your chest, causing you to grab at your stomach where it had been sliced into. “The blade cuts both ways, sir. I was just following your lead…” You weakly lifted your hand up in the air, as though you wanted to reach him, but simply couldn’t. “Why aren’t you proud of the monster you created?”

The man began to beam at you, but the corner of his lips stretched to an unfathomable degree, as though he had carved a smile into his own face. He lifted his chin up just enough to rid himself of the shadow that was cast over him, his brown eyes now void of anything, simply black. Soulless. “Oh, darling…the monster was always there. I simply dug it up.”

You suddenly woke up and sat upright in your bed, your entire body covered in a layer of sweat, leading you to desperately kick off the comforter that had trapped you inside the sweltering heat. Upon realizing you were no longer caught inside a warped memory from your adolescence, you looked down at your stomach, lifting up the edge of your shirt to see if your scar was still there, sighing softly when you saw the jagged patch of skin.

Your past doesn't define you. He doesn't define you — none of them do. And, now, you had the opportunity to create your own definition, and get a little revenge while you were at it.

“Do we ring the doorbell…?” Yeonjun asked from beside you, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, getting a bit dizzy from trying to take in all of the glory of the Kim Estate.

You were too busy studying the faded stains of blood left on the stone floor below to notice how out of character Yeonjun was already behaving, not that you could blame him. A similar prick of anxiety was already embedding itself into your mind, but you waved it away as soon as it made itself present. “We may be entering a lion’s den, but we won’t behave like them. I’ll knock.”

Yeonjun nodded swiftly, clutching the handle of his messenger bag tightly inside his sweaty hand. “Hopefully they don’t eat us alive.”

You gently pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, making sure you didn’t disturb the positioning of the micro earpiece that was sitting just behind your tragus. “They won’t, as long as we prove our worth.”

You grabbed onto the obnoxious ivory door knocker, and just as you were about to make your presence known, you found yourself being yanked into the mansion by someone much bigger than you, Yeonjun’s squeaks of protest becoming background noise as soon as the man slammed you against the nearest wall. What felt to be the cold barrel of a compact handgun pressed up into the bottom of your chin with a click, your assailant’s focused, deep-set eyes boring into your own. “Is this how you welcome all your guests?”

“Not all of them…some I leave dead on the doorstep before they can even get a chance to beg on their knees,” the man muttered in a distinctly gravelly voice, a small chuckle bubbling out of his throat. Usually, the people he dealt with would be pissing themselves at this point, but it just seemed to be another day for this strangely familiar visitor.

You could almost see your partner out of the corner of your eye, already on his own knees, his distinctively red hair being held onto by a nameless man in a 3-hole knit balaclava. It was then that you angled your head up slightly to get a good look at your old friend, feeling the barrel push harder into your skin. “Every guard dog has to have their fun, right? And, if you blew my head off now, well, where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re right, doll.” The tall man’s plump lips quirked up into a smirk, slowly dragging his gun past your chin, down your neck, and along the softest parts of your body, poking and prodding at you in an attempt to humiliate you. “Should I see how many new holes I can give you? Fill them all with hot lead?”

“At least buy me a drink first,” you said through gritted teeth, trying not to show any discomfort when he pushed the loaded gun roughly into your abdomen, directly into your scar, not that he could’ve known it was there.

He seemed to enjoy your pained response, leaning his head back to let out a sudden laugh, one that was short and abrupt like a bark. “You’re one crazy bitch…” The man licked over his plump lips. “I like that.”

It was just then that somebody else entered the foyer, their presence so distinctly powerful, the lot of you couldn’t help but notice before he even stepped foot in the room. “Is that any way to treat a valued guest, Mingi? I thought I trained you better than that.”

Mingi immediately de-cocked the gun and brought it behind his back, tucking it away inside the waistline of his tailored pants. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Seonghwa patted Mingi’s shoulder with a gloved hand, giving him a small nod of understanding, before turning his attention to you and Yeonjun, the both of you cautiously standing with your backs against the paneled wall. “I do apologize for my guard dog. We try to keep him on a tight leash, but sometimes…he gets loose.” His shifting eyes formed half crescents. “You understand.”

Yeonjun glanced over at you for guidance, and you responded with a small smile, before nodding your head obediently at Seonghwa’s words, Yeonjun following your lead. “It’s not a problem.”

Seonghwa clasped his hands together, shaking his head slightly, a strand or two of raven hair falling past his forehead from where the rest of it sat perfectly still. He couldn’t seem to understand why he was experiencing a bout of deja vu. “Where are my manners?” He pressed his palm into his chest, and gave a small bow. “I’m Park Seonghwa, the second in command, if you will, here at the Kim Estate.”

Yeonjun bowed back instantly, pushing his dyed hair behind his ears as he stood up straight. “My name’s Yeon. That’s what I go by online.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows raised up slightly. “Ah, I know you.” He chuckled to himself, glad that he was able to pinpoint the air of familiarity, but still annoyed that something wasn’t quite right. “You’re that hacker that’s going around and fucking with the local government, aren’t you?”

Yeonjun was glad he didn’t eat too much that morning, otherwise he would’ve already thrown it up by now. He brought a peace sign up to his face and smiled. “That’s me, professional shit-stirrer at your service.”

As more men began to trickle into the foyer to see what all the commotion was about, Seonghwa slowly turned his attention back to you, the true object of his frustration. It’s like he had seen you many times before, in a dream, perhaps? In the casino they ran behind closed doors? Or maybe you were one of the many playthings that were brought in to appease the voracious appetites of his degenerate cohorts. Either way, Seonghwa both loved and loathed the way you were already inside his mind, like you had already lived there, and your existence had simply been unearthed by the sands of time.

“And, you are…?” he asked in a slow, calculated manner, his head tilting to the side.

“I’m a diamond expert,” you explained vaguely, motioning to the large suitcase of supplies you were holding. “I can see the value of most things from a mile away, much like your dear leader.”

Hongjoong was already aware of your arrival. You could feel it in your bones.

Seonghwa brought a closed fist to his chin, nodding at your words, still not completely sure why he felt so uncomfortable. “But, who are you?”

Your bubbling amusement was starting to rush to the surface, unable to keep yourself from smiling. And, just like that, you reunited with your dear mentor, except on opposite sides of the chess board. You were delighted everyone was there to witness the beginnings of your awaited rematch. “Why don’t you ask him? I think he’ll have an idea of who I am,” you replied giddily, prompting you to motion your head to the man that stood above the rest of you.

You felt something stir within the men that looked at you, as though what had been hidden for so long had finally come to light. You weren’t a ghost, much to their surprise — well, at least, not yet. You were, of course, taking a gamble with your life, and your partner’s as well, but risks were meant to be taken, rules were meant to be broken, and strings were meant to be cut.

As though right on time, Hongjoong dug his nails into the mahogany railing of the expansive landing, his free hand unconsciously adjusting the bow that was wrapped securely around his neck. He understood the most out of all them. Value. You looked up to him, moving your fingers as though you were using a pair of scissors.

“Remember now?”

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heathermason6060 · 2 months ago

Text

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Three-hour Drive in Two

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, cursing, overstimulation,

Summary: You call Daryl over the radio and tell him you're tired of the games, and want to finally have sex. Daryl drops everything he's doing to get to you.

Notes: The idea of Daryl wanting to have sex with someone so badly that he literally just gets on his bike and rides hours to do it????? It's just so hot????

There was the sound of creaking, shuffling, paper or boxes. You're breathing louder, and closer to the mic, he could almost feel your warm breath tickling his ear if he closed his eyes.

“I wanna talk to you.” A soft and breathy tone, it sent a freezing chill down his spine. He knew what that sound meant.

He raised his eyes from his fingers in his lap, glancing around the room. No one was paying him any attention. Maggie still looking out the window, Glenn still upstairs, and Michonne digging around in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” He responded, his voice coming out much lower than he intended.

“Yeah.” You sighed, and he could hear the same creaking sound. You were in a chair, moving around, restless, he could hear that now. “As hot as this is, what we've been doing…”

You and Daryl had been playing this game for a few months.

It started with caught glances, red cheeks, and then all of a sudden you were showing off for each other. Subtle, but obvious to anyone who'd caught sight of it.

You would be walking around Alexandria in those Bobbie Brooks shorts you and Daryl loved. Daryl started dressing nicer, swapping those long sleeved shirts for his older cutoff button ups, his biceps as eye-catching as a big red circle, a handful of arrows lit up with little gold neon lights, blinking and flickering ‘hey, look at me, all for you, look, please’.

Then came the flirting. Daryl was absolutely awful at it. You seemed like a professional compared to him, with your bedroom eyes and lip biting, that sweet sly grin you'd have after teasing him.

Daryl started with what made him hard when he'd catch you'd do it, which was staring shamelessly. He'd go out of his way to check out your ass when you'd walk in the other direction and give a simple smile when you'd look over your shoulder and catch him.

You always looked to see if he looked, and he always did.

“Daryl?”

He cleared his throat, blinking away the memory of your ass in those sinful jean shorts. He turned down the volume on his radio and raised it closer to his face. “Hmm. M’here.”

“How fast do you think you can get back?”

The question and what it alluded to had his dick twitching in his jeans. “Three hours.” He answered immediately, avoiding the curious look Maggie gave him from across the room.

“Think anyone's on this channel?” The sound of you humming was accompanied by footsteps, boots against the hardwood floor of your house.

“Shouldn't be.” He muttered, picking up his gun and bag and making his way to the front door.

“Everything okay?” Maggie asked, watching Daryl as she kept a lookout through the downstairs windows. They were on a supply run, going further out than usual, most places near Alexandria had been wiped clean.

“Yeah. S'fine. Got somethin’ to take care of. How much longer y'all gonna be?” Daryl slipped his shoulder through the strap on his crossbow, his radio still clutched tightly in his other hand.

“Gonna check a few other houses down this road, then the factory.” Maggie nodded. “We'll be back before sunset.”

Daryl offered a returned nod, unable to meet her eyes, the excitement of knowing he was about to have his dick in you making him jumpy.

He thought he was gonna have to be the one to ask, you'd always seemed so composed and patient, content with blue balling him and leaving your panties in his room.

“Be safe.” She called out after him as he walked down the concrete pathway, and he raised a hand in acknowledgment.

“You still there?” Even though he turned down the volume he could still hear you over the sound of his heavy boots over the concrete, and he raised his radio back to his face.

“Yeah. M’on my way.” He couldn't remember a time he'd felt so excited about something. No fear, no anxiety, no dread, just heart hammering anticipation.

His mouth watered as he fished out the keys to his bike from his pocket.

“Don't get a speeding ticket.”

Daryl chuckled, and got on his bike.

If cops were still a thing, he'd get a lot more than a ticket for the way he drove back home. He and the others took three hours to get to that town from Alexandria, and he made it back there in two. He hadn't had a ride like that since he was young, maybe back at the Greene farm or in Atlanta. He drove like he had a helmet, hell, like he had a full suit of armor, and gas was readily available at any of the gas stations he passed by.

You were standing in your closest when he finally tried to reach you. Standing completely still, biting your bottom lip to keep from giggling.

“Where?” You had to turn down the volume to keep from being found.

“You gotta find me.” You breathed, your cheeks aching from the smile on your face. He'd come through your room twice already, the second time confused, and now he was no doubt checking his room.

“Gotta find you?” He repeated, the image of his bewildered face was easy to imagine.

“Mhm. See if you can find me before I come.” You whispered, your smile fading the lower your hand slipped down the front of your shorts.

“Oh, shit.” You mumbled. Your fingertips grazed against your clit, finding that you were already soaking. You hadn't touched yourself before then, but it felt like you'd been going at it for hours.

Daryl's muffled grunt came through the radio, either annoyance or something else. Maybe hearing you make those noises was enough to get him hard. You didn't know he'd been hard off and on since he got on his bike.

“I don't, I don't think you've got a lot of time-”

Heavy boots sounded coming up the stairs again, quicker than your racing heartbeat. The sound sent a bolt of excitement through your chest, knowing he was ready to start flipping over tables just to find you, just to touch you.

“Warmer.” You stifled your moan, moving your fingers quicker against your clit. He paused for a second, you could hear him at the end of the hall. He walked into Michonne's bedroom and you had to fight away the laugh that threatened to give you away.

“Cold.”

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he came back to your room once again. You held your breath and slowed your movements, watching through the cracks in the closet door.

God, the sight of him standing in your doorway looking for you was enough to come to. He looked so… dedicated, fueled by the motivation to get you in his hands and make you regret teasing him like that.

“Hot.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched, your wide eyes illuminated by the daylight through the lines in the door. He walked into your room, looking under the bed, getting on his knees.

He stood, flicking his head to get the hair from his face.

He flipped the comforter of your bed and it almost made you giggle that he thought you could somehow be hiding under it.

Your heart stopped when he turned his head to look at the closet door. The only other place you could be.

His boots sounded like they were weighed down with bricks as he approached the door, each step sending your heart racing faster and faster. You pulled your hands from your shorts and unbuttoned them, the sound making him let out the scoff of a man very pleased with himself.

You turned off the radio as he slid the doors open, greeting you with a lopsided grin.

“I win.” His proclamation was almost innocent, proud of himself and eager to make his accomplishment known.

“Yeah.” Your fingers worked to unbuckle his belt as you grinned up at him. “What happened to three hours?”

“Light traffic.”

You laughed as he went back to shut and lock your door, turning on your speaker in the process. He didn't want to risk anyone hearing the sounds he intended on dragging out of you, and ruining the moment. It was a sweet gesture.

He was back in front of you in a few short seconds to continue the game of undressing each other, something that could've been done quicker if you just did it to yourselves. That would be a lot less fun.

His hands on your face caught you off guard. Gentle fingertips graced your lips, the scent of hand soap filling your nose, and you smiled. He'd washed his fucking hands.

“God.” You shook your head in disbelief, unzipping his pants as you slowly walked him backwards to your bed. “You're something else.”

He snorted, slipping his thumb between your lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. You washed your hands.”

“Course I did.”

He sat down on the bottom of your bed, his hands moving from your face to slide down your sides, resting at your hips. “Been wantin’ to feel you inside. Ain't gonna do that with dirt and blood on my fingers.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, from his words and the feel of said hands tugging your shorts down your thighs. “Somethin’ else.” You repeated.

Although Daryl looked absolutely breathtaking covered in blood, you were grateful he'd been so thoughtful. UTIs in the apocalypse were no joke.

You worked on the buttons of your shirt as he pushed his pants down, and you'd be lying if the sight of him pulling his cock out didn't make you swoon.

His hands were clean, but he still looked like he'd been through hell and back. He was sweaty, his biceps gleaming, the crevices of his muscles made darker from the dirt and whatever else he'd been rolling in out there. His hair messy and ruffled from driving god knows how fast on that motorcycle.

The feeling of his hot breath on your bare stomach had you sniffing in surprise. You opened your eyes and looked down, letting out a soft whimper at the sight of the top of his head. He planted a kiss between your ribs, keeping his hands on your sides to keep you steady as he worked his way down your stomach, every other kiss his tongue would slip out of his lips and trace deep circles in your skin.

You watched him bury his face in the front of your panties, nuzzling his nose against the fabric before breathing in like he was smelling flowers. You couldn't help but grin at the comparison, your fingers now in his hair and brushing the tangles out.

“Smell-” he muttered through kisses to the fabric, “-so good.” He kissed up to the waistband, moving from the front to the side where your hip bones sat. He opened his mouth and bit down, his teeth grinding your skin between them, causing you to let out a rather loud whine of surprise.

“C'mere.” He didn't wait for you to respond or even acknowledge him before grabbing hold of your ass in his hands, lifting you and bringing you into his lap.

Being manhandled like that was another thing that drove you crazy. You whimpered and shifted in his lap, sucking in a sharp breath when you felt his heavy cock brushing against the crotch of your panties.

He groaned, the sound muffled from the way he grits his teeth. He must've been caught off guard by how embarrassingly wet you were, he could feel all of it against his bare dick. Warm and wet, fabric catching and grinding on his length, he had to focus on his breathing to avoid coming right there and then.

“Here.” He muttered, his fingers looping in the sides of your panties and urging you to maneuver your legs so he could pull them off of you. Once he did he shuddered, the breath vibrating in his chest.

The sight of you, wet and on partial display, sitting right on his dick, it could've killed him. He pulled himself together and moved his hands between your thighs, wasting no time in touching you like he'd dreamed of for months.

“Hmm.” He grunted, his jaw visibly flexing from how hard he was clenching down.

You could barely keep your eyes open. It was a lot. He moved his fingers the same way they felt, rough and forceful. He tried to be smart, circling your clit, lightly pinching it, but he lost his patience fairly quickly and began moving all four of his fingers in flat circles over your entire pussy.

“Mmmm, god.” You shuddered, grabbing onto his shoulders which felt massive under your hands. He was being sloppy and impatient, but god it felt amazing. He was enjoying touching you like this almost as much as you were receiving it.

He looked up at you and you lost it. Seeing those eyes on your face had you gasping, trembling, your thighs trying to close around his hand but his waist prevented it. You forced yourself to look at him, your eyes flickering from his eyes, wide and attentive, doing the same thing yours were, to his parted lips. His fingers were relentless on your slippery cunt, growing more rough and fast, sliding over your clit and quickly overstimulating you.

You tried to crawl off of him and get away from his hands, but he kept you in place with his free hand and dipped a slick finger inside you.

“Nn-” you gasped, your hips jerking in his lap. He held you tight against him, his finger too thick and too hot, it was too much, you tossed your head back and whined like you'd been stabbed.

“Fuck.” Daryl whispered, his eyes still on your face, filled with awe at the sight in front of him. His dick twitched under you and his hand, precum oozing from the slit in his tip. Your cheeks looked like you'd been slapped, red and hot, and tears beaded at the corners of your wet eyes, which couldn't decide if they wanted to stay closed or look back at him in something akin to horror.

He curled his finger, a simple experiment, and the way your hips ground down against him led him to continue, his middle finger digging deeper and deeper inside you, curling and twisting until you actually begged him to stop. His thumb rubbing quick and deep circles against your clit was more intense than anything you could ever dream of doing to yourself.

“Stop, s’too much.” You slurred, pushing on his shoulders.

“Alright, alright, shh.” He cooed, drawing his fingers from between your legs and wiping them against your trembling lips.

“Gonna,” you shivered against his chest, fighting to catch your breath. “Gonna show you what that's like.”

He grinned and nodded.

Once you gave him the nod to continue, he grabbed onto your waist and laid you down on your back. The cool air felt amazing against your throbbing cunt, but that relief was soon replaced by Daryl's hot mouth.

“Oh, god, Daryl, wait.” You laughed, a mix of nervousness and excitement. If he was as sloppy and eager as he was with his fingers then you'd be in for the filthiest oral of your life.

“Shh, c'mon.” He breathed, his breath tickling your clit. “Lemme taste.” His eyes flicked up to you and chills ran down your entire body. “Jus' a taste.”

You breathed, looking down at him over your torso. The image of him between your thighs had a tired smile spreading on your lips and you nodded, earning a wicked grin from Daryl. He was a whore for winning, that was for sure.

He lowered his mouth back on you, keeping his eyes on your face as he tried different movements. His gaze had you fucking stunlocked. You couldn't look away, couldn't close your eyes or move from your position, propped up on your elbows, watching him watch you.

You were right, he was just as primal as he was with his fingers. He licked you like you were the inside of a chip bag, digging his tongue into every crevice and fold, determined on making you cum on his lips.

He was doing a damn good job at it.

You groaned and took in a trembling breath. Your eyelids grew heavy and it became hard to watch him.

“Oh my god.” You wailed weakly. Your thighs started twitching, bumping against the sides of his head. You tried to sit still, but your orgasm came and your hips took on a life of their own, bucking and grinding up against his fervid mouth.

He grunted, grinding his own hips into the mattress. He panted as he watched you cum, having lost his breath giving you the best head of your fucking life.

“Like the way you do that.” He crawled up your body, leaving wet kisses up your torso, giving special attention to the nipples he neglected earlier. “Never seen somethin' like that b‘fore.”

You moaned in response, grabbing his hair. Your heart was breaking a goddamn record, it had to be, it never raced like this even when running from walkers in the woods.

He took a nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting the same way he bit your hip. You whimpered and gasped, trying to regain your bearings, but he made it so, so hard. Especially when he tortured your nipples like he was trying to pierce them with his teeth.

“Never thought you'd be so…” You were cut off with a yelp when your other nipple was pinched, making you suddenly extremely grateful that he didn't pinch your clit like that.

“What?” He muttered, his teeth still clamped around your nipple, and rolled his hips against you. His bare dick pushed through your folds, quickly becoming soaked.

You groaned, low and deep.

“Aggressive.” You finished.

“Wan’ me to stop?” He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily, now looking down at your poor messy face. It made him feel proud, knowing he was the reason you looked like such a mess. Hair already wild and frazzled, eyes still wet and cheeks even darker in color.

“I can be gentle.” He drawled with a sick grin, and ground his pelvis into you again.

Another groan dragged through your raw throat. “Nnn, no.”

He snorted, and snaked his hand down between your bodies.

You drew in a deep breath. You felt the tip of him drag through your folds again, just as much of a tease as his voice, up to your raw clit and your aching hole.

Now Daryl was the one shuddering against you. You could hear his teeth grinding together as he lined himself up with you, his shoulders heaving above you, and finally, he pushed in.

He was too rushed and too forceful, so his head just slipped back up your folds and drove against your clit. You whimpered at the sharp tingles, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to muffle the noises.

Daryl muttered a curse and lined himself up again, learning from his mistake, and pushed in slower.

Your body trembled. Your back arched, your jaw dropped, and your eyes rolled back into your head. It was indescribable. He was so thick and you were so sensitive, one would think all the foreplay would've made it easy for him to slip inside, but your walls pushed against him in desperate protest. You tried to relax but it was all so much, your cunt was spent and fought against you and his dick.

He won, again, and bottomed out in the first thrust.

The sounds that left both of your mouths were ten times better than any song your stereo could play. Daryl choked on a gasp, the sweet sound melting into your name.

You could've sobbed. You almost did, your moan bubbling against your lips, low and whiny.

Again your name was whimpered, and you responded with a strangled whimper of your own, your fists curled around his leather vest with all the strength left in your hands.

You could tell he was trying his best to treat you right after the torture he put you through, dragging his dick out slow and gentle, but each time he pushed back into you his exhale came out ragged and raw.

It was funny, how you were begging him to ease up on you earlier but now you were about to beg him to fuck you until you couldn't breathe. You supposed that's what your body wanted the entire time, his mouth and fingers were amazing, but your greedy walls wanted his cock more than anything.

“More, Daryl, please-”

You barely got the words out before he was obliging, snapping his hips forward like he'd been waiting for your permission. The blunt force of the thrust knocked a crude moan from you.

You got what you wanted, he started fucking you until you literally couldn't breathe. His chest had fallen against yours, and his arms slipped under your back to hold you tight against him.

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and lips making the skin there wet and red. It was incredibly hot how much he enjoyed biting, it was so animalistic and primal, something he didn't think too deeply into before doing it. It wasn't that he wanted to mark you, claim you, he just wanted to bite, bite, and bite.

The way your moans changed to sobs of ecstasy sent a jolt of pleasure through his dick. With a deep growl, he pulled your hips up hard, pelvis rolling down to meet you with a swift and forceful motion, sending a surge of pleasure through your walls and lower stomach.

You moaned something, a mix of about seven different words, your core fluttering and flipping each time he rammed his hips into you, forcing his dick as deep as possible.

He clamped his teeth around the skin where neck meets shoulder, another way to keep you in place, as if his arms and legs weren't doing a good enough job. He'd twisted his legs around your ankles, something you couldn't picture or comprehend, but your feet were rendered immobile by his thighs and it was sexy enough for you not to question it.

“Fuck!” He growled, slamming his pelvis into you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“God oh, hnn-Daryl!” You whimpered with your eyes squeezed shut. He was hammering into you like you were paying a goddamn debt, knocking your headboard into the wall so hard you were sure Carol or Rick would burst in with their guns drawn, thinking a walker had you fighting for your life.

“Shit.” He choked, and came without any further warning, his hands moving from your back to grip your hips and yank you up on his cock. You cried out, wriggling your feet free from his legs to twist around his waist.

He blurted your name into your neck, gasping and panting. He rolled his hips with quick and frantic movements, fucking his cum deep inside you. He ground down into you until his body shook, and then his muscles relaxed.

“Turn over.” You breathed, and he did.

He was expecting you to climb off, maybe fall down beside him and share the mutual blissful exhaustion.

You kept his softening dick inside you as you settled on top of him, managing a weak smirk when you saw the sleepy confusion on his face.

Your hips rolled, and he whimpered.

You savored the way confusion bled to regret, his eyebrows relaxing and his lips parting.

His hands grabbed onto your hips, wanting to hold you in place and prevent your walls from dragging up his sensitive dick, but he knew he deserved it. You told him you'd show him what it was like.

“How's it feel, hmm.” You moved your hips back and forth in his lap, biting your lip at the many stages of guilt and pleasure that went through his sweaty face.

He couldn't speak, so he just settled on a nod, his eyes falling closed as his throat bobbed with a dry swallow.

You went on for another minute before you physically couldn't anymore. You gave one last roll of your hips, making sure to clench down on him, and lifted up until his dick was dragged out of you.

“Goddamn.” He mumbled.

It felt amazing to be empty and bare, it was enough to make you moan, your body falling to the side to lay next to him. The silence was welcome.

"Daryl?" You breathed, using the back of your hand to push your hair from your face.

"Hm?" The sound was gravelly and sleepy, he was clearly only seconds away from sleep.

"You ever drive like that again and I'll tell Carol."

"Not my fault ya' decided ya' wanted to fuck me now."

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

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carpetcleanercompany · 2 years ago

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blogport · 5 months ago

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cleansealpolish · 5 months ago

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boozenboze · 1 year ago

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That Fuckin Rat

Tf!141 x Fydor Dostoyevsky M!reader

Summary: It’s hard to believe that Makarov isn’t the main one behind the attacks, and that he had a little friend who had plenty of tricks up his sleeve’s.

Females DNI

Terrorists, we all hate them. Reasons all being obvious. Some were too sneaky, smart, and overall just a pain to society. Makarov was one of them, the man’s name being heard plenty times before. He was smug, extremely condescending, and practically unreadable. It had taken years for military to actually keep up with his antics.

Though of course, there is always someone else helping behind the scenes of someones dirty work. His name wasn’t known, hell there was barely any information on the man at all. What was known, was that he was assisting Makarov with his plans, though his motives were unclear.

______

It was a peaceful day on the streets of Chicago. People going out for a run, getting ready for work, kids going to school. Just usual things that you’d see on a week day. A man was sitting inside, legs crossed as he sat with his hands in his lap. He wore a white button up shirt, white pants, and ushanka hat. A waiter brought some tea to his table, her eyes having been locked on him since he’d walk in.

He was clearly a looker, from his natural facial features to his style. It all looked and gave distinguished gentleman. His eyes were slightly droopy, making him look tired, but the small smile he had on his face sad otherwise.

He nodded at the waiter, silent thanks as he took the cup in his hand, eyes closing. As he took a sip, another woman entered the establishment. She was older, wearing a blue button up shirt with a white jacket. Her dirty blonde hair brought up into a bun giving her a clean, professional look. She sat at a table near the Russian man, setting her computer down and typing something before calling a waiter over.

The man glanced over at the new customer in the establishment, humming before setting his tea back on the table. Due to his hair, the people around him would automatically miss the earpiece he had in his left ear. He spoke very lowly, so his words weren’t audible. Though as soon as he stood up he was met with a hand grabbing his arm, forcing him to sit back down.

His eyes widened, looking over to so a man. He was clearly older, hence the beard and more gruff appearance. His eyes were blue, and he wore a beanie atop his head.

“Excuse me, may I hel-”

“Close your mouth, listen closely.” The man spoke gruffly, hand still gripping the slimmer mans arm. “Your gonna exit out the back door, don’t draw attention to yourself. We don’t need things getting bloody, not here.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the s/c skinned male replied.

“And why would I, comply to such a request… hm?” The male questioned, looking down to see the mans other hand, that wielded a pistol. The h/c haired males facial expression held one of calmness with a mix of annoyance. He shifted his gaze to another table, noticing how a darker skinned male was eyeing him down, he squinted for a moment before looking forward again, sighing. He smiled, chuckling slightly, though there was no humor behind it.

“Ok…lets go.”

—————

Being dragged into the alleyway between two buildings wasn’t part if the plan, but here he was.

“I see you got him.” A woman, the same woman with the dirty blonde hair said as she followed out the door. The darker skinned man spoke up, looking back at her, hand’s keeping the Russian man from trying anything. The e/c eyed male had his head slumped downwards, eyes locked on the concrete beneath him.

“Getting closer our goal aren’t we Laswell.” The dark skinned male said, looking at the woman. He pulled the h/c haired male by the arms, making the males back bump into him with a light thud.

The woman, now identified as Laswell hummed. “This is part of it, though it’s quite obvious that we’d need more than just..” Laswell stopped talking, looking at the h/c haired male who hadn’t said a word since they exited the establishment. Another individual, with a mohawk was glaring at the man now in their custody, as well as another large man who was in the dark corner of the alley.

There wasn’t any struggle to put the man into the vehicle that the 5 peple had arrived in. He was seated in the back seat in the middle, now being trapped between the dark skinned male and the man with the mohawk. The woman sat in the passenger seat, while the older man sat in the drivers seat. The large man with the skull mask, sat in the very back of the vehicle, silent, though his presence was known.

They pulled out of the alleyway, the vehicle now going onto the road. After just listening to the 5 individuals address and converse with one another, it was clear that he’d just been taken by Military. He found it very odd that they found him in such a place at such time. He was always extremely careful when he made arrangements for…shipments, though he supposed anything was possible.

“So…would you mind telling me how you all found me?” The h/c haired male questioned, keeping his haze ahead. There was no response, only the sound of the engine revving being heard. The male scoffed, rolling his eyes before muttering “rude”.

——Timeskip——

Cuffed by the wrists and ankles on a chair in an interrogation room wasn’t something M/n was planning on.

What a pity, fools did all this just to catch little ol’ me? I must say I’m flattered. M/n thought to himself, sly grin creeping onto his face as he threw his head back and chuckled.

“Hello~ anyone there? You’re not the only ones who have plans ya know!~” m/n called out, not getting a response due to him being the only one in the room….Well, not exactly, if you count the cameras that the 141 was watching him from.

————

“So, who wants to give it a try.” Price spoke, his response being silence from the other 3 men. Gaz looked to the side awkwardly, Soap whistling in attempts to seem like he wasn’t listening, and Ghost was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked annoyed, possibly because of the current situation. The man’s voice irked him, and not in a good way.

This man had assisted Makarov…only God knows how many times throughout the years, and now he’s here. Something was wrong though. They caught him too easily, and the way he just cooperated didn’t really sit right.

They’ve heard the rumors that had circulated around him, one person describing him to be soulless. Like a vampire, which is one spot on comparison since he looks like one. The look in his eyes had anything but genuine emotion, more malice then anything.

Ghost had seen it all, quite literally during his time on the field. He had no tolerance for slackers and cockiness, and when things needed to get done, they were sure as hell gon done with him. So as he emerged from the darkness of the corner he was in, attention being drawn to him due to the slight ruffling noise of him moving.

“I’ll handle this.” Ghost spoke, voice rough with his Manchester accent being firm. Seems like the lieutenant wants to get this over with as soon as possible, as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Price smirked and shook his head in amusement.

“Don’t think LT’s gonna blow the guys head off eh?” Soap asked jokingly, not completely forgetting whom they were dealing with.

“Think you mean the other way around.” Gaz replied, looking at the security cameras, seeing the door open to the room their capture was in.

————

M/n looked towards the door, eyebrows raised as he watched Ghost enter the room. His larger figure towering over him in an intimidating manner. Despite this, M/n wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, a cocky grin came upon his features.

“Well this should be interesting.” M/n spoke, tilting his head to the left, hat following in suit as Ghost sat in the chair across from him.

The bigger man crosses his arms, glaring at the man who seemed completely unfazed by his appeal. Ghost was intrigued, sitting back before speaking up.

“Let’s make this quick, you’re working with Makarov and you’ve been supplying him with explosives.” Ghost spoke firmly, voice being the loudest thing in the room besides their breathing.

M/n smirked, looking at Ghost with mischief within his e/c eyes.

“Indeed I have.” M/n spoke, shifting in his chair to sit up straight. “I must say i’m quite impressed that you sll were able to catch me.”

M/n stared right into Ghosts skull, eyes practically stabbing into his entire being. Ghost didn’t falter, reciprocating the stare behind his mask.

“So, do you all plan on keeping me here or-”

“Makarov’s planning an attack somewhere, but we haven’t been able to get a lead on where.” Ghost said, cutting him off quickly. “You work with him, your his supplier, therefore you know where he is.”

Ghost spoke sternly, staring M/n down with a cold and empty look. M/n hummed, chuckling and throwing his head back before looking down into his lap.

“I do, but I have no intention to tell you.” M/n stated, Russian accent making his voice sound oddly mesmerizing. Sexy if anything.

Ghost stared at him, a few minutes of silence going by before he stood up and walked over to M/n. He stood above him, looking down at the restraint man before wrapping his hand around his neck. The s/c skinned male let out a groan, feeling the hand tighten around his neck. He let out an airish chuckle, glaring up at Ghost who glared back.

The male took in a large amount of air when he was released, clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Well that isn’t very polite now isn’t it?” M/n spoke, looking up at Ghost with slightly hooded eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want.”

M/n rose his hands in defeat, cuffs making a slight clinking sound when he did. Ghost hummed, going back to sit in his chair.

“If you’re gonna talk, do it now.” Ghost said, being completely serious with his words, belligerence underneath his current calm demeanor.

M/n grinned, fixing his position in his chair.

“Makarov is actually planning on attacking close by.” M/n said, looking Ghost in the eye. He didn’t miss how Ghost’s eyes widened, brown irises holding shock.

“You pulling my leg?” Ghost questioned, sitting up. His demeanor changed dramatically, a sense of urgency now in his actions. M/n gave him a blank face, tilting his head before smiling.

“Yeah, besides its not like you’d be able to find him anyway.” M/n said cockily, giving a mischievous smirk. “You soldiers are too easy to get over on, and the only reason you believed me is because I’m hot and have Russian accent.”

Ghost felt like he was seething now, glaring at M/n before standing up.

“Fucking rat.”

Ghost spat before leaving the room. This wasn’t like him, but something about M/n really got under his skin.

A/n: this was lowkey rushed, and I have some editing to do 😅

#gay #male y/n #cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #mw2 x male reader #captain price x male reader #male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader

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mercy-burning · 2 months ago

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(2) the fire. || THE DOCTOR.

in which a fire grows between the doctor and the landlord. content: strong language, alcohol, a hand injury/bleeding, kissing word count: 4.5k

series masterlist || main masterlist

———

Today, Spencer remembers why he never went to school for medicine.

It's not that he can't properly diagnose a problem and offer the proper treatment, though he'd be lying if he admitted to denying any insecurity over holding the powerful title of The One and Only Town Doctor, because what if he does diagnose something wrong, or he doesn't have all the information he needs and gives somebody the incorrect treatment? Then what? He wouldn't only have to worry about an eviction, but complete humiliation as well. He'd have to either locate somewhere else or just live out the rest of his "witness protection" in the Alaskan Wilderness, left to fend for himself. He'd likely die then, anyway.

Being this isolated from the outside world must have triggered my over-dramatic tendencies, he thinks with a shake of the head and a deep sigh. He closes the patient file in front of him and rubs his eyes, stifling a yawn.

He'd only read each file over twenty times each. But the better acquainted with Sardinia he was, the more accurate his work would be. It also might please Stanton to know he's at least making an effort to get to know the town a little bit. Not that it's his life-goal to please the man, but after his town tour last weekend, Spencer had sensed a fierce protectiveness in the mayor over his town and its residents. It was commendable, and definitely not something to interfere with.

At the same time, knowing everybody's business is, quite frankly, exhausting.

It's the price I pay for safety, I suppose...

Three knocks sound at the basement door, and Spencer sits upward, putting on his glasses.

"Everything alright in there, Doctor?"

The librarian's voice is a relief. "Yes, thank you, Roberta! I'm almost done!"

She shuffles inside and looks around, adjusting her long, patterned skirt. "You know... We're not technically supposed to let these files leave their home, but... You're the town doctor now, Spencer... If you need to take some home, you're more than welcome. That way you don't have to stay down here." She shivers at the thought.

"Oh, that's okay. I've read them all more than a dozen times over, I just wanted a refresher."

Roberta laughs with him, probably assuming he's exaggerating, but he says nothing and lets her keep her amusement. "Well alright, if you're sure. Are you heading out then?"

As if on cue, his stomach growls rather eagerly at the thought of sustenance. "I was just about to go to lunch, actually."

"Well there's no rush if you have more reading to do, Dear. If you'd like, I can make you a sandwich or something."

Spencer almost takes her up on it, but as his stomach growls again, it suddenly occurs to him that it's highly unlikely he'll run into Y/N in the library's basement.

In actuality, he doesn't have any concrete plans to seek anything out with her. It wouldn't be right, technically being her doctor and all. Not to mention, he was supposed to be detaching. Doing his job, indulging in friendly conversation when needed, but not allowing himself to form strong connections with Sardinia when he knows he'll just leave eventually anyway. It's easier, it's stable, and it's clean.

But for whatever reason, he can't seem to stop thinking about her anyway. It's obvious that she doesn't seem particularly interested in putting in effort to being his friend, not after the morning she showed up on his doorstep and injured her hand on his porch. Day by day he kicks himself for being so awkward. He didn't mean to keep interrupting her, but he also didn't want to be responsible for not doing his job. Intentional on her part or not, it was cold outside, she was hurt, and he did the responsible, professional thing by ushering her inside and tending to her wound. It really had just been an unfortunate turn of miscommunication and awkward first impressions.

And so, while he's aware that turning things around is probably out of the equation, Spencer finds himself constantly daydreaming about running into her or breaking something in his house so he has a reason to call her. He shouldn't even entertain it, but she's a knot in the deepest part of his gut that he can't ignore no matter how hard he tries.

It's almost as exhausting as reading the entire town's medical records over and over again.

"Thank you, Roberta, I appreciate it. But I think I could use some fresh air."

———

The generally considered "lunch hour" has just passed, leaving BAR in limbo as the cleaning staff prepares for dinner. A small group of customers sit in the corner by the lifeless karaoke machine, nursing beers, and as Spencer finds his way to the bar, his eyes drift to the woman behind it, all the way up on a ladder as she drills in some shelving.

"Doctor, what can I do you for?" Sonny greets as he sits down.

If Y/N heard him, she doesn't let on.

Spencer removes his coat and scarf and drapes them over the back of his chair, doing his best to hide the joy he feels at successfully locating his landlord. Not that there are many places here she could have been in the first place. "Uhh, water and a club sandwich?"

"Fries or chicken soup with that?"

"Soup, please."

"You got it."

As Sonny puts in the order, Spencer diverts his gaze back to Y/N. As she's reaching high and stretching up to grab a screw, he has half a mind to tell her to be careful, but he doesn't want a power tool thrown at his head.

The scariest thing happens just then.

"The second you tell me to be careful, Doctor, I'm evicting you."

He hesitates. "Did you know, the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons estimates that there are around 500,000 people treated for ladder-related accidents each year?"

She pauses and turns her head to look over her shoulder at him. "What did I just say?"

Spencer throws up his hands defensively, unable to hide his smirk. "Hey, I didn't tell you to be careful..."

She tosses the screw in his direction, and it rolls across the bar.

Sonny snatches it up without even looking, sliding over Spencer's water with the other hand. "And you just know that off the top of your head, or did you make it up?"

"Uh, no. I didn't make it up..."

"Sounds like a made-up number to me," Y/N mumbles, barely in earshot.

"I'm a doctor. It's my job to know these things."

"Well, I've been climbing ladders pretty much my whole life, Doctor, so you and your Ladder Statistic Surgeons can take the day off."

With a snort from Sonny and the sudden loud whir of Y/N's drill, Spencer leaves it alone, taking a few large gulps of his water.

Minutes pass, and even though his eyes are glued to the small box-TV in the corner, muted and playing some '80s movie he's never seen before, Spencer is earnestly aware of Y/N's presence behind the bar. She's humming to herself, something that sounds theatrical like a show-tune, and it serves as some pretty comical background music to the rather intense scenes playing out before him.

"Aw, man, Red Dawn again? Can't you play Lethal Weapon or something?"

Spencer looks to his left sharply, a little horrified at the fact that he hadn't seen or heard the presence of someone beside him.

"Do I look like a movie theater, Lionel?"

The kid can't be more than twenty years old. His deep brunette hair is longer than Spencer's— way longer, in fact; it cascades down the back of the chair and almost touches the floor. He doesn't judge, but the thought of having hair so long that it's constantly getting tangled and always nearly touching the floor sounds annoying and completely unsanitary.

"What if I buy you a copy?"

"No."

"I don't know, Sonny, maybe you should switch it up once in a while," Y/N offers, and Lionel cheers like a frat bro. "I know I wouldn't mind watching Mel Gibson while I eat..."

"My bar, my rules. And Mel Gibson's a jag-off."

Spencer thinks of Rossi at the insult, almost hearing it in his voice, and his heart aches a little of home. Still, he can't lie and say he isn't enjoying the bar banter just a little.

"Yeah, but a hot one," Y/N presses, stepping down the ladder and shuffling around some of her tools. "Anyway, shelf's all shiny and new. You need anything else repaired before I head off?"

"Nah, you're free. Thanks, Moonface."

Just as she rolls her eyes and starts berating him about the nickname, Lionel twists his seat to Spencer.

"You're the new doctor, right?"

"Yes, I am. Lionel? It's nice to meet you. I'm Spencer."

"Doctor Spencer..." He says it like he's testing something. Pondering. He squints his dark eyes and then looks him over. "My mom said you were dreamy, but I don't see it."

He feels his face getting warm, and then Y/N laughs. "You know who is dreamy..."

Lionel points. "Mel Gibson."

Y/N points back at him knowingly, and they share a smile, much to Sonny's chagrin.

The barman looks at Spencer, who can't help but laugh. "You wanna chime in on this, Doctor Spencer?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not qualified to diagnose dreamy." Then he glances at Y/N, catching her eye. "Only to offer ladder statistics."

Sonny laughs, and Lionel slaps his knee, but Y/N is holding Spencer's gaze as if to say, "well played." There's something else there too, but before he can place it, she's tearing herself away and packing up her things.

"I like this guy!" Lionel says. "I'll have what he's having."

"You don't even know what he ordered," Sonny counters.

As the two discuss, Spencer lets their words drone on until they're muffled background noise, Y/N cleaning up her workspace. She doesn't catch him until after she steps under the ladder to reach for something, and then raises an eyebrow as she walks through the other side.

"You're not gonna lecture me about bad luck now, are you?"

"I'm not superstitious."

She smiles, to his surprise, and his breath catches at the sight. It's a beautiful smile anyway, but when it's directed at him, it feels like a reward he wants to achieve forever.

Before he has time to read into the feeling, a plate of food is set in front of him, and the spell between the doctor and his landlord has lifted. She goes to fold up the ladder, and he keeps himself busy by stirring his soup, waiting for it to cool.

He'd chosen it as a ploy to stay warm on this cold November midday, but he doesn't feel like he needs it anymore.

———

Y/N is avoiding Spencer at all costs.

She's glad he didn't see her almost slip off the ladder at BAR earlier today, but not because of the "told you so". No, she was more worried that he would genuinely come to her aid, and the close proximity would surely have her abandoning all reason and throwing herself at him. Because, let's face it, he is dreamy (Lionel doesn't know shit). And he's funny. And smart. And his hands...

Y/N lets out a rather aggravated grunt, thwarting the sharp sting of desire she feels in the pit of her gut, scrubbing a plate clean with a grip so vigorous, her fingers start to cramp.

You know, you could just... be nice to him, the Angel on her shoulder suggests.

What, and completely disrupt the snarky bantering nature on which we've set our foundation? the Devil counters back, stubborn as always. I don't think so!

The argument goes on for way too long. Y/N has furiously scrubbed all her dishes clean about five times over before she decides to promptly get drunk about it. She can't go to BAR, and she could make a run to the convenience store for a bottle of something strong, but... there's more risk involved out in public than in the safety of her own home, where there happens only to be a half-bottle of red wine that she keeps for when she's feeling frisky. And 'frisky' is exactly what she wants to thwart, so...

The options are very limited.

"God damn this stupid fucking small town bullshit," she grumbles through gritted teeth, harshly tossing the sopping-wet washrag in the sink and reaching up to the cupboard for her wine. "Whatever. Maybe... I just have to pull out the vibrator and get it out of my syste—"

Perhaps it's superstition, or irresponsible outbursts of frustration, or perhaps it's just plain bad luck that makes her slip backwards and fall on a puddle of water when she turns around, bottle of wine in hand. But whatever the reason, she can't help the maniacal laughter that tumbles out of her system the second her ass hits the floor. Her hand holds the neck of the bottle in a death-grip, but when she goes to set it on the floor, it shatters, staining everything in red. Sharp pain slices through her finger, and her laughter quickly stops with a hiss.

Staring down at the aftermath, Y/N slowly feels the pain growing and throbbing in her body. Her butt is surely bruised, her hand is hot and cascading with blood, and there's only one person qualified to help her.

"Fuck my life..."

She starts to laugh again, but grabs her phone and dials the first number she can think of.

———

What Spencer had told Y/N is completely true; he's not superstitious. Coincidences happen, and that's just how life works, but walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror won't bring you bad luck, just as surely as being in the right place at the right time is merely that— a coincidence. Good things and bad things simply happen, no matter how badly you want to believe there might be some cosmic reason for them.

That being said, as he charges up the driveway to Y/N's house, first-aid kit in hand, he starts to wonder if Sardinia has its own sort of superstitious magic or something. It's the fact that the one and only person that he's needed to aid since being here—not once but twice now—is the one person that doesn't seem thrilled over his presence. Not that everyone he met seemed absolutely ecstatic to have him there (save for Stanton), but everyone else didn't seem inconvenienced by him at least. And for whatever reason, he can't stop the burning need that simmers low in his stomach at her every sarcastic word, every roll of the eye, and every beautiful frown of her lips.

He couldn't make it go away. He couldn't make it make sense.

Why?

He manages to push away his frustrations when he opens the door to check on her, wiping his feet on the mat and calling out her name.

"Are you alright?"

As he removes his coat and steps inside to find her, heavy stomping sounds through the house, getting louder and louder until his landlord is in sight, her eyebrows narrowed and her hand wrapped in a blood-soaked washcloth. "What are you doing here?"

"I was with Roberta when you called her, she said you were hurt and you needed help, so I came—"

"She wasn't supposed to send you!"

"I'm... I'm sorry? Here, what's wrong? She said your hand might need stitches."

She looks like she's about to cry, her body going slack and her head falling back in defeat. "Yes, it does, because I fell on my ass with a bottle of wine in my hand, and sliced it open..."

"Y/N, it's okay. I can help you. Let me take a look."

He reaches out for her hand, but she snaps it away to her chest and huffs. "No! I don't want your help, okay?"

Spencer sighs, feeling himself getting irritated now. "What?"

"You heard me! It's... It's your fault anyway!"

He blinks. He can't believe what he's hearing. He wants to help her, to calm her down, but her words are so sharp and her tone is violent enough that he isn't sure any of his tactics would work anyway. He's spent a fair share of his time talking people out of scary situations, talking them off many ledges, but right now he feels trapped. He feels confused and maybe a little hurt, but also extremely hot, like his temperature is rising steadily with every second he's in her presence.

"Excuse me?" is all he can say.

"First you show up to Sardinia and ignore everybody, which makes Stanton send me to lure you out, and I bust my hand open on your door! And then you keep following me around town and fucking pester me about your stupid made-up ladder statistics, and it pisses me off so badly that I come home to unwind, and hurt myself in the process! You did this to me! So no, I don't need your help, I just need you to—"

"Y/N."

"Stop interrupting me!"

Despite her rising frustration and inability to filter out the ridiculous threads of reasoning that give her away now, Spencer keeps a calm, even tone when he continues. "I can leave and have Roberta come over to help you instead, if you want. I won't stay if you really don't want me to."

It's her turn to blink, her mind working hard to comprehend what he's just said. She looks exhausted and just about as confused as he'd been, picking at the washcloth wrapped around her hand.

"You... What?"

Everything makes so much more sense now. As she'd rambled on and on about how annoying she found him, a switch flipped, and Spencer knew exactly what her outburst had been really about. Suddenly, all the somethings he kept catching in her glances have become bright beacons, and he wonders how he'd missed it.

It probably has something to do with that rising temperature of his— too distracting to allow his brain to work properly.

Regardless, his brain is working just fine now, as he takes a step closer to Y/N. She backs away, but he keeps slowly walking towards her as he speaks.

"I understand. You've probably known Roberta all your life, and she's a safe, comforting person to confide in. I'm just a stranger. You don't like me, and you don't trust me, even though I am your doctor and it is my job to help you."

Her back is to a wall now, and she startles when she runs into it, realizing she's trapped. Spencer watches her swallow and try to avert her eyes as he keeps talking. His lips twitch into a smile then, remembering the day she hurt her hand on his door and how she could barely look him in the eye, and how he's missed yet another sign.

"But you are an independent, very beautiful, incredibly stubborn woman, so that makes sense..." Their faces are inches apart, Y/N's head tilted to avoid him. But that just won't do, so Spencer gently places his forefinger under her chin and adjusts her to look at him. Their eyes meet finally, and that fire burns bright in his belly and spreads through his entire nervous system at the matching heat in the depths of her stare.

He continues softly, his lips barely a breath away from hers. "So if it's what you really want, then I'll go."

"God, fuck you," she breathes, pushing herself forward and colliding their mouths together. Her sharp words echo so strongly that when her tongue slips past and makes contact with his, he can practically taste their sweet, sweet venom. He welcomes the sting and involuntarily growls into her mouth, pressing her firmly into the wall. He's never felt a violence quite as satisfying as the one she exudes.

It's a violence that amplifies the burn in Spencer's gut, the one that causes him to abandon all logic and reasoning in favor of indulgence. It had happened once before, with a particularly wretched woman he'd rather not remember, but this time is different. It's relatively harmless in the grand scheme of things, and absolutely life-altering all the same.

Her kisses fizzle out slowly, though not out of boredom or change of heart. In fact, Spencer figures he's stunned the poor woman into a simmering lust-driven stupor, a power that he hadn't gone searching for but accidentally stumbled upon while cradling her head in his hands. He's never considered himself an ambitious, power-hungry man, but as his fingers massage her scalp and he kisses her deep and slow, her mouth returning his energy with lazy, fiery laps of the tongue, it's the first time he's ever ached so deeply to claim something as his own. The feeling is addicting, plain and simple.

She seems to gain some semblance of control when he pulls back and pivots his head for a gasp of air, because in a split second her weight is pushing against him, forcing his feet backward. Still attached at the lip, they stumble through the house together until they find themselves in the kitchen.

When Spencer lifts her enough to sit her down on the table, she pulls away from his mouth with a hiss and then hits his shoulder with the palm of her hand. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?" he asks breathlessly, dizzy on her kisses but slowly coming back to his senses as he remembers why he'd even come here in the first place.

"I fell on my ass, remember? It hurts!"

"Sorry," he says, helping her down and pulling her back to him through the empty belt-loops of her jeans. "I'll be careful."

"Some doctor you are," she scolds, kissing him again.

He breaks away a second later with a laugh. "You didn't want my help. Remember?"

"If I didn't hurt my good hand, I'd punch you."

Kiss.

"You should have that looked at."

Kiss.

"Probably."

Kiss.

He knows that he should stop and take a look at it anyway. He should be firm, yet still gentle and caring, and make sure her wound isn't already starting to get infected or worse. He has no doubt that she'd probably taken care of it to a good enough standard to avoid anything major, but in any case, it doesn't matter. Because it's his job to look after her.

But... fuck.

Her quick-witted, glorious mouth is too intoxicating. It's ruining him, completely demolishing any ounce of professionalism and sense of reason he might have once had.

And then her injured hand drags itself along his shoulder and down the front of his shirt, just for a second before she pulls it away again, inhaling against his lips.

She's in pain. But she won't stop.

Spencer pulls away and rests his forehead to hers. She tries to chase his mouth, and he wants to let her, but he can't.

"Y/N..." He says her name softly, trying not to focus on her pout. Otherwise, he might just leap forward again.

Their breathing is heavy, the air between them thick with a fire that still longs to burn bright, but is being extinguished by necessity. It's still fighting though, dancing in their eyes as every other part of their bodies slowly part from each other.

"My hand hurts," she says finally, holding it out to him.

She's still very obviously drunk on him, her words strung together clumsily as she sways to keep her balance. She looks dazed, hair tousled and lips puffy, all at his mercy. And so fucking help him, Spencer vows in that moment that he will see her in this state again, and he will not have any obstacles like wounded hands getting in his way of the job. It will be thorough and deliberate and he will not stop until the wicked words spewing past her lips have dissipated into breathless gasping pleas.

Just not today.

"Will you help me, please?" she asks softly.

He nods, gesturing for her to sit down. "Of course." Then, he notices stains of red littering his arm. Studying them, then her, then his arm again, Spencer can't help but laugh. "First you bleed on my porch, and now my favorite shirt?"

It isn't his favorite shirt really, but for the sake of their dynamic, it's worth the look she gives him. She scrunches her eyebrows in an adorable stabbing glare, her lips pouting again, and his heart races. "You're a doctor, get fucking used to it."

As he pulls up a chair and gets out his first aid kit, he shakes his head, refusing to meet her eyes when he tells her, "That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble one of these days, Y/N."

"Hasn't yet."

When he finally does meet her eyes, she almost breaks down, her pupils flexing and her body going frigid as he gently grabs her hand without breaking eye contact. But then he glances down at her mouth, and back up again with a contemplative hum.

"It will."

He doesn't know why, or how he's even managing to flirt with her like this, but for some reason it comes as the most natural thing in the world. He likes making her react, he likes hearing her scoff at him and swear at him under her breath. He likes how as he tends to her gashes with tender hands, she watches him intently without saying a word. She'll wince when it hurts, and he'll apologize in a whisper, but she doesn't say anything, like she's refusing to give him the satisfaction.

He could play this game forever, probably.

When he's done stitching her hand up, he places it in her lap and looks up at her through his eyelashes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You're lucky, it's a minor cut, and you cleaned it up pretty well yourself before help arrived. Just don't do any hard work with that hand for two weeks, and you can come back to see me then to have them removed. Sound good?"

"Mhm."

"Good. Then... I'll be on my way."

For the smallest of milliseconds, Spencer swears she looks disappointed. But as quickly as the look appears, it vanishes, replaced by an indifference that would have stung him otherwise, had he not just felt her desperation as it seeped into his bloodstream with every breath they exchanged.

He tries to hold back a knowing smile as she gets up to walk away. "Thank you. I should probably go see Roberta and give her a piece of my mind."

"That's a good idea, I'm sure she'd be glad to know you're okay."

Though her back is turned to him, he feels her eyes rolling and it makes it harder to hide his joy. He's practically radiating with it when he packs up his things and leaves, and he hopes she can feel it.

He doesn't know it, but she does.

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