#you’re only meant to reside at my work place

[ll33c0ji1]

Intended to draw Minato, got possessed by bugs instead (SO MANY SPIDER ENCOUNTERS LATELY, I DIE.)

[pastryfication]

Oscar, who has a girlfriend that works in a nursing home. This has my heart.

Can you please write that? 🥺

heart of gold | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x nurse!reader note: thank you so much for this request xx

you push open the heavy glass doors of the nursing home, the familiar scent of antiseptic and calming lavender greeting you as you step inside. it's early morning, and the soft light of dawn is filtering through the windows, casting a gentle glow on the polished floors, giving the place a cozy, inviting feel despite its institutional purpose. you take a deep breath, readying yourself for another day of nurturing and caring for the elderly residents who have become like a family to you.

as you walk down the corridor, you can hear the murmur of voices and the soft hum of a television from one of the common rooms. mrs. thompson waves at you from her wheelchair, her face lighting up with a smile. you wave back, making a mental note to check on her later. your first task is to help mr. baker with his morning routine. he’s always grumpy before his first cup of tea, but you've learned how to coax a smile out of him.

checking in on the office timetable and picking up the first round of medication for your patients, everything about the morning seems normal. everything except for the fact that you have a shadow today.

your boyfriend, a normally very busy man, had asked to come with you to work. he’s on summer break, and with nothing else to keep him occupied, seeing you walk around in your natural habitat had become his biggest wish. and who were you to deny him?

your colleagues had found it an amazing idea, insisting that the residents of the small nursing home you spent so many of your hours at would only enjoy having someone new around to entertain them.

“good morning, mr. baker.” you put on your brightest smile and most cheerful voice as you push open the door to the elderly man’s room. “i bring to you breakfast, morning medicine, today’s schedule and a special guest.”

“i haven’t heard anything about a special guest.” he replies gruffly, eyes narrowing at your cheerful form.

“well, consider it a surprise then.” as you move towards the elderly man, readying his arm to get a shot whilst guiding him to take his morning pill, oscar steps out behind you. “mr. baker, this is my boyfriend, oscar. remember i told you about him? he’s a formula one driver.”

“a formula one driver? i see . . .” he eyes oscar for a moment. “and he treats you well?”

you let out a laugh while oscar nearly chokes on air, neither of you expecting that question.

“yeah, he treats me well. we’re very happy, i’d say.” you smile as oscar nods along to your words.

“well, tell me about this driver thing then. what is your job exactly?”

as oscar starts retelling stories from his work, mr. baker seems to perk up. your boyfriend hesitates at times, not sure wether he should continue, but the older man urges him on.

you smile from the side, enjoying the sight of oscar fitting so naturally into your world, and you actually feel bad about dragging him away when your time is up and you have to move along with the schedule.

the day goes like that. you go around doing your job, giving the care you usually do, and oscar follows you around, interacting with the elders and telling them about his life and job.

when you’re finished for the day, after you’ve checked out, oscar drives you home, a comforting silence enveloping the car as oscar places his hand on your thigh and starts rubbing small circles. a gesture that warms your heart and makes you melt even further down your comfortable seat in his extravagant car.

“you know,” oscar starts, breaking the silence. “i really admire you.”

you look at him in surprise, not sure what he meant. “what? why?”

“the way you do your job.” he explains. “you do it with so much tenderness. even when you don’t feel up to it. i could see how tired you were after lunch, but you still greeted everyone with such kindness.”

as he speaks, he tightens his grip on your thigh, giving it a loving squeeze. “i’m so lucky to call you my girlfriend.”

you feel your heart swell at his words, almost tearing up when you hear the tender earnestness in his voice. “i love you,” you place your hand on top of his on your leg. “and i’m also very lucky to call you my boyfriend.”

“i love you more, so much more.”

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[drabblesandimagines]

Cramped

Inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting prompt 1080! "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?" Leon Kennedy x gn reader

“I can’t do this.” Leon mutters under his breath, but you hear it as clear as day from your position.

How could you not, seeing as you’re currently only an inch away from his chest, his head nearly resting atop your own?

You’ve been trapped in this tiny storage cupboard for at least 20 minutes now, waiting for Hunnigan to give the all-clear that all 27 heat signals had dispersed from outside your current location. You would describe yourself as a relatively decent shot, Leon more so, but the numbers weren’t in your favour.

“Claustrophobic?” You whisper back, cautious that your voice may carry. You wish you could shift your left foot ever so slightly, currently standing awkwardly over a bucket that was sat at the bottom at the cupboard when you entered.

“No.” He has his hands braced either side of you against the opposite wall, seemingly caging you in more than the cupboard is. Your arms awkwardly hung by your side, painfully aware of how if you moved even slightly forward you’d be pressing your front into his chest, fingers ghosting against his hips.

“I can’t do this.” Leon says again. “Missions - with you.”

“Oh, come on,” you wish you could step back so you could give him a proper withering stare. “You can’t blame me every time something goes wrong. The intel definitely said only five guards were on site at any one time.”

“No. I mean, I…” He’d rub the bridge of his nose if he could bring his arm forward to do it without hitting you in the process. “I can’t concentrate.” You scoff, immediately defensive. “And how is that my fault?” “Because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you!” Silence. “Oh.” “Yes, oh.” He mocks, frustrated. He's meant to be better than this. Hell, he usually is when the two of you are paired up. Leon’s flirty, sure, but he knows to be professional when it’s a matter of life and death, and trapped in a cupboard with a number of hostiles outside is definitely a time when he should be at his most focused. But ever since the two of you retreated in here, all he can think about is how close you are, how good you smell, the warmth of your body pressed up against his, how he could place his fingers under your chin, tilt your head up… “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Sorry?” He looks down at you in disbelief, sure he’s misheard. “I said,” you lift your hand and trail your fingers up his chest before you rest it just above his pounding heart and meet those soft blue eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”

He doesn’t need a third invitation, dropping his hands from the wall. One arm wraps around your waist, bringing you needlessly forward that final inch, your left thigh finding its way between his in lieu of anywhere else to go. His other hands grabs the back of your head and tilts it up to meet his lips, stealing your breath with a deep, frantic kiss... Hunnigan smiles to herself as she leans back in her chair at HQ, your voices falling silent on the comms in what she suspects is the result of other activity – Leon had left the channel open when you'd been forced to find cover. It’s only when she hears Kennedy let out a muffled moan that she taps to disconnect the audio, her suspicions now well and truly confirmed. The computer screen in front of her shows a blueprint of the factory, where two red dots reside in the small storage cupboard she’d directed them to after she’d ‘alerted’ them to the unwelcome company. She still needs to work out how to explain the sudden disappearance of 27 hostiles, but it’s worth it so she won’t be forced to watch the two of you dance awkwardly around each other in the office anymore.

--- This is probably the closest to a drabble I've ever gotten despite my blog name, ha! Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

PS: Thanks to @porcelainseashore for helping me clarify the ending <3

[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[koiiiji]

I would...you tenderly roughly

my favourite russian songs + lookism boys (pt.2)

тебя нежно грубо (by TARAS) = Gitae Kim

author's note ; i will never stop romanticizing bad boys. im not even gonna say that this is ooc bc we don't even know his character yet, but i feel that gitae that type of men who mercilessly outside, but in bedroom can be completely different. but yet having his... moments...

author’s note 2 ; for better immersion in the atmosphere try to search akuma_asmr on reddit [masked yan] (or just dm me, i’ll send you link)

pairing ; gitae kim x reader

tw ; gitae kim himself is an a threat, DNI IF YOU ARE MINOR, f!reader, angst, toxic, stalking, non con, slight knife play, pet names, sensual but rough sex. this fic contains non consensual sex, read on your own risk

summary ; reader being a model who came to Mexico on her indefinitely long vacation to reconnect with herself and find some peace from loud and bright paparazzi, only to catch some certain attention.

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

00:00 - 00:30 "you're on repeat in my dreams who are you, my naked drug? and if you are my thrill, dissolve yourself in me up, up, up your hands, you raised your hands up"

the sun dipped low over the Mexican horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the sprawling villa where you resided. villa, perched on a secluded beach, was meant to be a sanctuary for the weary, a place where the soul could find peace. a villa located on a secluded beach, surrounded by hills and rocks was supposed to become your shelter for about the next year, this place was supposed to become your healing, a place where you could hide from the stuffiness and dust of the big city from which you came, a place where your body finally then you could take a break from endless shows, filming, flashes of paparazzi cameras and the endless pursuit of fame and money, a place where your soul would find peace and solitude. this place was supposed to be a refuge… instead it became a gilded cage.

it’s not that you knew Gitae well - you were from different worlds - you are from the world of endless fabrics, chic, camera flashes, gloss, all kinds of bags, heels, suits and other rags, all this is your everyday life - shows, changes in looks, flights, new countries, jetlag and again and again. Gitae was from a world of violence, pain, blood, dirty money and endless fights. wars for territory and business, illegal deliveries and prohibited fraud, with everything that could be imagined were his daily routine, and this suited him quite well.

it seems one day, the owner of the agency - on behalf of which you worked, - threw a big party in honor of his birthday, just at one of the luxurious resorts in Mexico, and through Gitae’s people, various types of drugs and other illegal substances were delivered to that party. by this time, Gitae's business had grown so much that he rarely personally attended these types of transactions, but when did he refuse an invitation to secular parties? that's when he laid his eyes on you.

1:53 - 2:40 "i gently suffocate you i'll either choke you or you'll be mine and you put a knife to my throat - either i’ll stab you or will be yours i’ve never met anyone more cunning than you, but you’re making yourself look stupid but you know, it doesn’t matter much whether today you were voluntarily or by force i would take you gently, i would take you roughly i would...you gently-gently, i would...you roughly i would take you gently, i would take you roughly i would...you gently-gently, i would...you roughly" <...>

bare feet quietly padded on the white marble of your villa. the hem of a white, light silk robe silently trailed behind you as you got out of bed and headed towards the balcony. it's about three in the morning, and you still couldn't sleep. throwing the doors wide open as you step onto the terrace, the warm, gentle breeze from the ocean softly caresses your skin, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater and tropical blooms. the night sky is filled with countless stars that twinkle like diamonds scattered across a velvet blanket. the Milky Way is clearly visible, its dense cluster of stars creating a shimmering river of light that stretches across the sky. the moon a glowing orb, casts a silvery reflection on the calm surface of the ocean, creating a path of light that seems to lead directly to the horizon.

quiet and solitude are rare and precious opportunity to reconnect with nature and yourself. as you breathe in the night air and gaze up at the star-studded sky, a profound sense of peace and contentment settles over you, until... '

"what are you doing here?" - your quiet voice cut through the distant noises of the night.

<...>

Gitae had eyes and ears everywhere. you have more than once noticed men in the crowd, - usually there are three of them - here and there, at the beginning of the street, from the other end of the market where you came for fresh fruit - a better choice than paraffined, plastic fruits in the supermarkets - and one is always in the car just few meters away, they were everywhere you went, keeping their distance, but making their presence known.

Gitae liked watching you, it was calming. there was so much lightness and calmness in your every movement and gesture that it seemed to him that you were producing the same effect on him… even from a distance. he liked to know where you were, who you were with - even if you spent almost all the time here alone or had small talk with lady from house keeping, who came a couple of times a week, and with the women at the market where you usually came to buy fruits or vegetables [the only thing you don’t know, is that this sweet woman was the mother of someone from the cortel, this small market was under their protection, and the fact that you periodically traveled several kilometers just to buy fruits from her honestly added adorability points to you in Gitae's eyes]- he liked control, and he knew that he was completely in control the situation is under control. although, to be honest, this could not be said about his… thoughts and desires, he would never admit that he felt anything other than desire towards you.

he would never admit to himself or anyone else about what emotions your sight awakens in him in the morning, when you, still half asleep, go out onto the terrace with a cup of tea clutched in your thin, slender fingers, or in the afternoon when you are basking in the rays of the sun, allowing fall asleep again while you are reading a book, or while you are sleeping. oh, this awakened in him the most familiar feelings for him, when he silently stood over you in your house, enjoying your sleeping look, your light, unobtrusive smell, looking at your cute face, looking at your things, maybe even taking that cute couple of lace panties with a bow for himself. at such moments blood rushed to his dick so much that it became painful.

<...>

it seemed to you that hours had already passed since he threw you onto the bed, bowing right in front of the bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. contrary to the first impression that might have been formed about him, he was gentle… more precisely, his tongue on your pussy, but his hands roughly squeezed the skin on your thighs, rising higher, squeezing your waist, running along your ribs and going higher, to your chest, roughly kneading the delicate skin in his huge palms. Gitae wasn’t rough with you, kissing inner side of your thighs, your tummy, your clitor, but each of his touches felt like hot metal on thin, soft skin. maybe it was the huge knife with which a few minutes ago he, oh so carefully cut your panties and the cute little blouse in which you usually slept. oh, he said that if you turn away from him or fidget too much, he'll have to start using it.

but right now he was too busy with his tongue in your tight hole - “you like being humiliated like this, don’t you, bunny?” a deep growl vibration touched your bare pussy when he almost buried his nose in you. wet sounds filled the entire room, and you were embarrassed to admit to yourself that it was pretty hot. now one of his hands was squeezing both of your wrists on your tummy, while the other was caressing your thigh, moving his hand back and forth, not allowing you to twitch and sway your hips away from him, keeping you in place. Gitae is agonizingly slow, he likes to slowly coax your first orgasm out of you, lightly licking and teasing the tender bundle of nerves and the entrance to your tight slit. you are so pretty, lying on your huge bed, the sheets are rumpled, the blankets and pillows are scattered, half fell to the floor - the result of the little cute resistance that you tried to give to Gitae when he pushed you back into the room and threw you on the bed. even though he was now kneeling in front of your bed, burying his nose in your tight, sensetive cunny, you couldn’t help but feel the strength and dominance with which he was squeezing you, completely suppressing any attempts to resist. all that you could oppose to him was your sweet moans and quiet pleas for him to stop. he even liked it.

when the heat engulfed your entire body, trembling began to break through your legs and thighs, and without controlling yourself, you began to lean forward yourself, towards his tongue, searching for more friction. Gitae let out a low groan more like an animal growl, “there you are... good girl, now cum. cum on my tongue,” he growled protractedly letting go of your hands and cupping your ass cheeks with his huge, harsh palms, slightly lifting you above the bed, making you gasp, arching your back more and throwing your head back.

with a quiet hum, Gitae slowly licked the remains of your finish, teasing the sensitive, heated skin, allowing one finger to slip inside you, earning another pitiful moan.

“so sensitive and wet… and all mine…” his voice boomed somewhere above you as he stood up from his knees, his finger still inside you, probing the hot, gummy walls while your body instinctively tried to shrink into the fetal position and close yourself off from him. Gitae just grinned, leaning lower, crushing you under him, clinging to your plump pink lips, persistently sliding his tongue further, only to hiss a moment later and pull away from you, “fuck. did you just fucking bite me?” a loud slap rang out across the room and you yelped from the sharp, burning pain spreading across your butt cheek.

“come on, do it again,” he growled in your ear, slapping loudly again and pressing you harder into the mattress with his hips. his hands found yours again, grabbing your wrists and pressing them into the sheets above your head, pinning you completely to the bed. you felt your shoulder blades touching his bare chest, and something heavy was pressed into your ass and it clearly wasn't a knife in a sheath on his belt. “tell me, doll, you didn’t think that was all, yeah?” you felt his smirk on his lips and that mocking tone in his voice as he pinned you down on the bed with all his weight. “oh don’t worry bunny, i have so many plans for this night,” he purred in your ear, slightly biting your earlobe and slowly and persistently moving his hips, making you feel his boner in his jeans more strongly.

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

it doesn’t matter to listen whole song just this part bc i got inspiration just from there🤟🏻🤌🏻

[spnbabe67]

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink. 

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing. 

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?” 

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one. 

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you. 

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone. 

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one. 

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was. 

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch. 

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze. 

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

[cleoluvrr]

proper touch (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPIS: don't try to hide it, you deserve a proper touch

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, mean!rafe (he's nice for like a second), degradation, hand-job (f receiving), dacryphillia (reader is a crybaby and rafe likes it), slightly dub!con

word count: 3k+

your back was pressed tightly against his chest, his warm hand pressed just as firmly against your mouth as a means to silence your barely contained whimpers. you were utterly trapped, legs held open by the strong man’s as he forced you to take all that you could handle and more.

it was nearly impossible to keep still, the mind-numbing feeling of overstimulation causing you to squirm and twitch in his lap involuntarily. the soft sheets beneath you were soaked in sweat and the essence of your pleasure, the scent overwhelming you as it filled the air around you.

his breath was hot and heavy against your neck as he whispered the most degrading things you’ve ever heard into your ear. it only made you wetter, the sounds of your arousal amplified as his thick, long fingers drilled into your aching sex. you could hardly find it in you to feel embarrassed by the loud squelching, mind occupied with trying to keep quiet as the blonde destroyed your resolve minute by minute.

“god, y/n…you’re so fucking disgusting” rafe’s voice was low in your ear, the darkness of the sound sending a wave of warm tingles to the pit of your stomach. “i never expected this from you.”

you whine beneath his hand as he pulls his fingers out of you, hips chasing the digits with a desperation that you could have never imagined yourself feeling before this moment. rafe chuckled at your attempt to keep him in but doesn’t do what you want, instead using the wetness he collected from your insides to rub soft circles into your clit. 

you could scream from the frustration you felt if rafe’s palm didn’t have your lips trapped beneath it. 

“walking around here acting like you’re so sweet, so smart. stop moving so fucking much.” you screwed your eyes shut at the sharp sting you felt against your swollen clit, the sudden pain making you release a muffled cry. “i thought you were shy and quiet, y/n? what happened to that?”

your legs tried their hardest to close but rafe’s longer one’s kept them locked in place and unable to stop the brain-melting ministrations. 

“you were too shy to talk to me, huh? is that it?” rafe interrogated you but you weren’t sure if he really wanted an answer, especially when he already knew. “you get all dolled up and put on those pretty little skirts just for me, just to get my attention. did you think i wouldn’t notice? the way you bend over in front of me just so i can see the panties hiding this pretty pussy?”

well, he wasn’t wrong. you’d been hired to tutor rafe’s little sister, wheezie, which meant you came to the cameron’s residence quite often. you went to school with rafe and always had a crush on him. he was two grades above you so you never even thought of talking to the older, more popular guy. 

it wasn’t until this summer that you actually tried to get even a fraction of his attention.

you’d just graduated in the spring, and you spent the entire summer before college working for ward cameron as his daughter’s tutor. your job was your main focus, but every opportunity you had to gain rafe’s attention, you took.

if rafe was in the kitchen while you and wheezie were taking a break, you’d seize the opportunity to grab yourself something to drink. you’d take a water bottle from the fridge and drink it right in front of him, using your clumsiness as an excuse when you would accidentally spill the water down your chin. you’d let out a squeak as the cold water dripped down your neck and onto your chest. the image of your breasts glistening in the sunlight from the moisture and your hard nipple poking through the thin top you wore would send rafe racing off from the kitchen, eyes nearly bulging from his head.

you would purposely not wear shorts beneath your skirts when you knew he would be home. clumsiness was once again to blame when you would drop your phone a few feet away from him, pretending to be completely oblivious of his presence as you bent over to retrieve the device. it was obvious he was staring, especially when you could hear him inhale sharply at the sight of the frilly, little lace underwear you picked out just for him.

despite all of this, you avoided any direct conversation with him for most of the time you were there. you weren’t sure how you were so bold to brush your ass up against his clothed dick as he helped you reach a glass from the top cabinet, but you knew you weren’t confident enough to strike up anything more than small talk.

you were shy, yes. you were also quiet. it was easier to tease than it was to speak, and it got the message across either way. If it didn’t then you wouldn’t be in rafe’s bedroom getting fucked dumb by his fingers.

you guessed the straw that broke the camel's back was the moment you "accidentally" flashed him while walking up the stairs to the guest bedroom. you claimed that you were going to take a nap while waiting for wheezie to get back from her friend's house. rose forgot to tell you that she was going to be out today and felt bad, offering the privacy of one of the extra bedrooms for the couple of that her step-daughter would be pre-occupied.

you only took the offer because you didn't see rafe downstairs. you assumed he wasn't home, leaving you feeling embarrassed and disappointed at his absence. you planned to take it to another level of teasing today, completely disregarding putting on panties before leaving the house.

rose was in the kitchen, sarah was in her room, and ward was in his office as you made your trek up the grand staircase. you weren't aware of any other presence in the manor until you reached the top of the stairs.

rafe's strong hands firmly grasped your arms the second you landed on even flooring. he wasted no time dragging you in the opposite direction of where you were originally walking, barely allowing you time to register who it was before shoving you into his bedroom and slamming the door shut.

"i've had enough of this shit, y/n." is what he said as he approached you like a predator, trapping you and leaving you completely at his mercy.

"rafe, what are you talking about?" you played dumb with him, totally aware of what he meant but stricken by fear. he was intimidating from afar, but being that close to him made your knees shaky and weak.

"you must be stupid if you think i don't know what you're doing." he was practically stalking towards you as he spoke, and you were unable to move. "you think i don't know what a desperate slut looks like?"

"what?" is the only word you could get out. you could feel you heart constricting and your stomach tingling warmly at the sound of his words.

"desperate for someone to plug your greedy, little pussy up with their big cock, huh? is that it?" he was barely two inches away from you now, knuckles lifting your chin up to force you to meet his eyes. they were full of darkness and lust, heat radiating of his shirtless body onto yours. "i wonder what it's like to fuck a smart girl into a brainless bitch?"

you already felt like a brainless bitch, the way you stood there floundering like an idiot as he eyed you dangerously. you had no underwear on to catch your arousal, the silky fluid beginning to leak onto the very tops of your thighs as you stood there frozen.

he tilted his head at you, lips quirked up in a devilish smile.

"if you needed a proper fuck, you could've just asked." he feigned a pout for a second before speaking again. "i don't think you deserve it, though...what do you think?"

he pulled away from you, hand lifting to his face as he pretended to be in deep thought. your eyes immediately went to the long, thick fingers he was using to rub across his bottom lip.

you gulped as his biceps flexed and the veins in his arm protruded. he heard you release a shaky breath and smiled darkly at you as he took notice of your heated gaze on his muscular arms.

"i guess i need to stretch you out first...don't need you crying all over my dick because you can't take it."

he was right, because here you were, crying from just two of his fingers stretching you open. it was nothing like touching yourself. his hands were bigger, stronger, faster. way more experienced than your own.

you were leaking from every hole, crying and drooling uncontrollably from being stuffed full of your crush's fingers. it was hard to stay quiet, even with rafe's hand pressed against you quivering lips. you weren't sure what you'd do if anyone in the house heard what was happening, but it was starting to get hard for you to care; especially after being denied your release for the entire time rafe had his fun with you.

“such a sweet girl making a mess all over my bed…” rafe tuts in feigned disappointment, abruptly removing his hand from your pussy completely. you didn’t get a chance to complain when he uncovered your mouth because it was immediately stuffed full with the sticky fingers that he was using to dig you out.

“clean it up.”

you hesitated for a moment before wrapping your tongue around the digits. you tried to go slow but rafe didn’t like that, free hand coming up to hold your jaw open to use it freely. he fucked your mouth with the same force he used on your pussy, throat clenching as he explored every crevice. he ignored every gag and whimper, the desperate tugs at his forearm and the tears running down your face unnoticed by him as he watched you throat his fingers messily. 

drool soaked his hand as he played with your tongue, the fluid dripping both of his wrist and down your chin to ruin the shirt you wore. you could feel the saliva pooling in your bra, the liquid free-falling and trailing down the exposed tops of your breasts.

“what a nasty little bitch.” rafe said as he removed his fingers from the back of your throat. you sucked in a sharp breath, coughing as you blinked away the tears leaking from your eyes. “who would’ve thought? what’s that thing they always say–the shy ones are the freakiest?”

you could feel your body begging for a release after being played with for over an hour without one. his words were only adding fuel to the fire, leaking hole clenching around nothing as he called you names.

your silent pleads were heard by rafe, made clear by the way he greets your clit with the soaked hand he used to fuck your mouth. he showed no mercy as he rubbed brutal circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was almost too much for you to handle.

“rafe, please…” your voice was broken and quiet despite the fact that you’ve barely spoken all day. it sounded weak but you didn’t care, way too far gone to care about anything else but having him back inside your fluttering walls.

you reached a shaky hand up to wrap around his wrist, the strong fingers wrapped around your neck leaving your mind in a frenzy. he smacked it away and dropped his hand from its place on your throat, instead using it to collect your wrists and hold them tightly in his grasp.

“rafe, please…” he mocks you as his soaked hand pulls away from your lower lips briefly to give them a harsh smack. you sucked in a sharp breath of air, well aware that his palm was no longer preventing you from screaming out for his whole family to hear. “shut the fuck up and take it. you wanted it, so i’m giving it to you.”

his thick fingers plunged back into you without warning and you yelped loudly. that didn’t stop him, rather he sped up to a brutal pace that made tears begin running down your face once again. the heel of his hand smacked against your clit with every movement and your hips ground down into the bed, unsure if you were trying to escape or pull him in deeper.

pants and whines filled the room in harmony with the wet sounds of skin on skin. your shame and control was slipping through your fingers with each thrust of his hand. rafe released your wrists after a particularly loud moan, the pornographic sound resulting in him slapping his hand over your mouth once again.

“shh shh…” rafe whispers against your ear softly. he doesn’t slow down despite his attempts to quiet you. “gotta stay quiet, baby. you don’t want everyone to hear, do you?”

you don’t answer, the question going in one ear and out the other as he angrily drilled your cunt. he was fucking you like he wanted the world to hear you; you were shaking like a leaf and he showed no signs of letting up. instead he went harder, something you didn’t think was possible. you were given no chance to quiet down, sobs breaking through his hand as you felt a pressure building in your core.

“i said shut the fuck up, y/n.” rafe pressed harder against your mouth in an effort to control the sounds but you couldn’t hold back your sobs. “are you crying? god, you’re so pathetic.”

the rope in your stomach had been stretched from end to end, ready to snap. you rolled your hips into rafe’s palm in an attempt to apply more pressure to your twitching clit. the blonde pressed his thumb into the nerve after taking notice of your desperate squirming and you threw your head back against his shoulder.

“what a fucking crybaby.” rafe chuckled menacingly, fully aware of the torturous pace of his digits. the repeated tightening of your walls did not go unnoticed by him. “you gonna cum? gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

you frantically nodded your head, the approaching orgasm only sped up by his dirty words. your hand to flew his forearm and sunk its nails into the skin. he didn’t flinch, instead laughing quietly at your quaking frame.

“then fucking do it.” he commanded. “let me feel this cunt drool all over my fingers, baby.”

that was all it took for you to break, hips lifting off the bed as you felt all the heat in your body travel to you core and leak out of you in a stream of pleasure. rafe continued to fuck into you, fingers scraping against your walls in a way that left your mouth open in a silent scream underneath his palm.

rafe hissed every time you clamped down involuntarily, bones crushed by the constricting movements of your insides.

"fuck, you're so tight...relax." his voice in your ear made you do anything but, hole tightening around his digits even more. you let yourself untense in his hold with great difficulty, the fingers that were struggling to fit inside due to your incessant clenching now pumping smoothly through your wetness.

"that's right...good girl, good job." rafe said softly. the sound alone would make you moan if you weren't already. "just let me fuck you open, baby..."

your body shook with sobs of pleasurable pain at the overstimulation, rafe still fucking you through your orgasm. you tried pushing him away but you were weak, the shove barely acknowledged by the blonde still playing with your twitching hole.

“rafe…” you whined his name after pulling his hand away from your mouth. “ ‘s too much…” your thighs weakly clamped around his hand between your legs but that didn’t stop him. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, the sweet gesture a complete switch from the borderline bullying he put you through just a few minutes prior.

“you got it, baby.” he said softly against your skin as he watched his fingers go in and out of your used cunt. “you can take it, it’s okay.”

the sweet words in combination with the slow, deep strokes against your sensitive walls had you reeling. you didn’t even know you were close again until you were coming undone again, a high pitched whine escaping your throat as you squeezed and gushed around your crush’s thick digits for a second time.

gulping dryly, you gathered yourself before untangling your legs from rafe’s. you threw the shaky limbs over the edge of the bed haphazardly before standing to your feet, yanking your skirt back down from where rafe had gathered it to your waist. you licked your chapped lips as you stood there awkwardly, eyes avoiding rafe’s completely as your mind raced with thoughts of the scene that just took place.

“what are you doing?” rafe asked from his place on the bed. he was resting his back against the headboard, legs spread wide enough for you to see the large bulge poking through his sweatshorts. 

you could barely form an answer, throat dry and eyes occupied with ogling his shirtless torso flexing as he readjusted himself.

“um,’ you cleared your throat as you thought of something to say. you couldn’t, hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair as you welcomed the uncomfortable silence.

“you don’t think you're leaving, do you?” the blonde tilted his head at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you squirm. you were sure you looked a hot mess, dried tears and saliva running down your neck and chest. it only made you shift more.

“well,” you started. your mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. “I don’t–i don’t know…” 

rafe stared at you menacingly and it left you feeling a bit frightened. it also made wetness begin to form between your legs once again, the warm, tingly feeling making another appearance. you as he reached down to rub himself through his shorts, completely mesmerized by the way the veins in his arms protruded against the skin.

"i said i'd give you a proper fuck. i meant that."

[darling-i-read-it]

Burns

Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 

Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…

Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 

Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 

You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 

You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 

“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 

“We’re in for one.” 

“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 

“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 

“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 

“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 

You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 

“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 

“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 

“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 

“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 

“Taking my 15.” 

“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 

“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 

“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 

“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.

“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 

“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 

“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 

“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 

“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 

“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 

“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 

“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 

“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 

You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 

“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 

“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 

“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 

“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 

“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 

“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 

“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 

“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 

“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 

“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 

“How was the chief?” 

“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”

“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 

“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 

“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 

“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 

“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 

“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.

“What?!” 

“You seen my phone?” 

“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 

You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 

You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 

“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 

Right onto the stove. 

This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 

“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 

“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 

“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 

“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 

“She what?!” 

Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”

“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 

“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 

“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 

-

Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 

She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 

Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 

You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 

“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 

“I don’t think-” 

“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 

“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 

“I had coffee spilled on me.” 

“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 

“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 

“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 

“A stove did this?” 

“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 

“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 

“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 

“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 

“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 

“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 

“If you think it’ll help?”

“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 

“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 

“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 

“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 

“You said the hand hurt more?”

“By far.” 

“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 

“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 

“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 

“Five.” He applied more pressure. 

“Now?” 

“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 

“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”

“The hand needs it.”

“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 

You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 

“You’re good at this.” 

“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 

“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 

“Fancy.”

“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 

“Do you work at the diner?”

“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.

“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 

“Son?” you asked. 

“Edward.” 

“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 

“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 

“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 

“Sounds like a task.” 

“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”

“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 

“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 

“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 

“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 

“You’re such a wingwoman!” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 

Part 2

[pascalispretty]

Old Holiday, New Traditions

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: cowgirl sex, unsafe sex, Joel mouthing off during sex, established relationship

Summary: Safe in Jackson, Joel celebrates his first New Year's Eve in decades. (ao3).

Notes: My Secret Santa gift for @bluebeary-jay! Merry Christmas! My thanks as always to @misscharlielulu for her support.

Joel had never been one for a big celebration on New Year’s Eve. There had been a few parties with Sarah’s mother when he was younger. Later, he rang in the New Year with Sarah – sitting her on his shoulders to watch fireworks, or moving clocks forward to feign the moment of midnight for her.

After Sarah, he’d had no desire to celebrate. It was just another marker of time, the yawning gulf opening up in his life between her past and his present.

All the New Year meant to him was another year without his baby girl.

Yet somehow, between their arrival in Jackson in the spring and the approaching winter, Ellie had gotten him to look forward to it. She spoke excitedly of the party held in Jackson to kick off the new year. It involved weeks of preparation, and almost everybody in town pitching in to help. Slowly, the promise of the New Year was no longer something he dreaded.

And then there was you. You, who’d been in Jackson for longer and filled Ellie’s head with stories of New Year’s celebrations past. You, who’d somehow worked your way into Joel’s bed, and then his heart. He’s hard pressed to explain how you – bright, tender you, who still got upset when your neighbours’ cat left small carcasses on your doorstep – had taken to him so quickly.

Between you and Ellie, you convince him to attend his first New Year’s Eve in decades.

****

It’s late by the time the two of you head back to Joel’s place. It’s almost one in the morning, but the party in the Tipsy Bison isn’t showing much sign of slowing down. You’d left Ellie giggling in a corner with Cat, the two of them no doubt thrilled to have pulled one over on Joel about being ‘just friends’.

The snow crunches under your feet as you make your way home, your hand tucked into the crook of Joel’s elbow. The sound of the party carries far down the street, almost every resident of Jackson still inside. Only those on patrol, and those too sick to get out of bed, would miss it. It’s a celebration of surviving and thriving for another year.

“Make any resolutions this year?” You ask Joel teasingly. The air is cold enough to make your breath mist, and you shiver despite your warm clothes.  

“Yeah. Stop lettin’ you ‘n Ellie talk me into stuff,” he huffs.

“Oh come on. You had a good time.” You had caught him smiling at one point, watching Ellie dance with some of the other teenagers.

“Wasn’t terrible,” he says eventually. “Ellie looked like she had a real good time.”

“Yeah, she did,” you agree. “All the other kids seem to really like her.” Cat in particular, though you don’t say that aloud. It had been sweet to watch the two tiptoe around one another with all the hallmarks of an adolescent crush.

“It’s good for her. Bein’ around people her own age, bein’ able to have friends.”

“I still can’t believe Dina managed to get her to dance.” A smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s mouth again. His smiles aren’t frequent, but it’s a huge change from the intimidating, scowling man who had first arrived in Jackson over a year ago. Slowly but surely, you think Jackson is becoming his home.

In just the same way, his home is becoming yours. You’re spending fewer nights at the house you share with Dina and Rebecca. Ellie no longer reacts with any surprise when she finds you having breakfast at her kitchen table. You even keep a change of clothes tucked in the bottom of Joel’s dresser. You’d never ask Joel to put a label on whatever you are, but you’re not sure you need him to. As if to prove your point, he doesn’t even ask if you’re coming home with him; he just carries on walking right past the turn that leads to your house.

The noise of the party has long faded by the time you get to Joel and Ellie’s house; your boots crunching through the snow is the only sound you can hear. You and Joel stomp your feet to shake off the loose snow, and unlace your boots standing right next to the front door so you can step inside in your socks. Joel had imposed the rule about not tracking snow inside after Ellie had gone flying on the wooden floor left slick by snowmelt, and you’d both readily agreed. Joel takes your boots with him, doubtless to put them with his in the kitchen to dry off as you start taking off your many layers.

In just your jeans and a tee shirt, you make your way upstairs to Joel’s bedroom. The heat is on; it doesn’t take long for the warmth to come back to your feet and fingers. Turning into Joel’s room, you don’t turn on the main light. Instead, you light the candle on the bedside table, casting the room in a soft golden glow.

The candle lit, you move over to the record player in the corner. There’s a vinyl already waiting, so you simply switch it on and lower the needle. Soft, Spanish guitar fills the room. You’re flicking through the crate full of records when Joel’s strong arms loop around your middle. You can’t help smiling to yourself, resting your hand on his as he kisses the side of your head.

“Music, candles, you got me drunk…you tryin’ to seduce me darlin’?” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Tommy was the one who got you drunk,” you remind him. Joel grunts in acknowledgement, squeezing you a little tighter.

“My mind ain’t on Tommy right now.” He turns you in his arms, those dark eyes of his unfathomable as he looks down at you. “I’m more concerned with how I can thank my girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, barely more than a peck. It’s still enough to send the first sparks running through your veins. Joel brings one of his hands up to cup your jaw, his large palm warm against your skin.

“You looked pretty when you were dancing, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your cheek. A derisive snort escapes you.

“I looked like an idiot.” Dina had pulled you in to dance, some variation on a jig that had both of you collapsing into breathless giggles by the end.

“You looked happy.” Joel kisses you again, a little deeper this time. The simple statement fills you with a different kind of warmth, and you make a contented sound against his full lips. You loop your arms around his neck, trying to get as close to him as you can. He holds you tight, and not for the first time you’re struck by the contrast in his sheer strength, and the gentleness with which he handles you.

The hand at your waist creeps below the hem of your shirt, sliding up to cup the weight of your breast. Even over your bra, his touch makes you shudder.

“Off,” he huffs impatiently, breaking the kiss to pull your tee shirt up and over your head. You start in on the buttons of his flannel shirt, doing your best to concentrate as Joel brushes your hair back over your shoulder and starts kissing your neck. His stubble prickles at your delicate skin and his lips immediately kiss away the sting.

The heat of arousal floods through your body, your fingers skittering over the small buttons. It takes you longer than it should to get the navy shirt off him, followed swiftly by the soft grey tee shirt he had on underneath. You can feel his cock starting to stiffen against your belly, and it only adds to the tingling sensation under your skin as your nerve endings set alight.

Joel steers you both back towards the bed, the two of you shedding your remaining clothes as quickly as you can. He settles himself into bed, leaning back against the headboard as he helps you into his lap. You sigh softly as you settle on his thighs, one of your hands curling around the wood of the headboard and the other finding Joel’s shoulder.

 “You’re so pretty, baby,” Joel murmurs, his hands warm on your hips. He pulls you closer so your hips are flush with his. His cock, hot and hard, bumps against your middle, trapped between your bodies. He crushes you close in a deep kiss, tilting his head to slot his mouth against yours. One of his hands slides up to caress your breasts again, touching you with increasing impatience.

When you break apart, he leaves you gasping for air. Precome smears across your belly as you press closer to him. It’s not enough. You feel uncomfortably slick and devastatingly empty; you let out a soft, longing sound.

“Need you,” you whine, your fingertips skating over his stomach to grasp his cock. The weight of it in your hand makes you shiver. Joel uses his grip on your hips to encourage you up, rising up on your knees enough to be able to notch the broad head of his cock against your entrance. A hiss escapes through Joel’s teeth.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He exhales a gasp into the side of your neck, his breath hot on your skin. He bites into the soft skin as you start to sink down on him. You inhale the scent of his hair, the soft curls tickling your face as he trails kisses and nips down your skin.

“That’s it,” he mumbles against your throat. “That’s it, good girl, take it just like that…” His hands help you move. As wet as you are, he’s so much that you can’t take him all in one go. You have to sink down slowly, impaling yourself with gradual flicks of your hips. Every thick inch of him strains your muscles, but the feeling of fullness is glorious.

“Oh, fuck, Joel-” you manage, breathless. He makes a hushing sound, smoothing one hand down the line of your spine. It’s meant to be a soothing gesture, but it only serves to wind you up even more, your nerves fraying at his touch. He flexes his hips, somehow driving himself in even deeper, and you whimper into his hair.

Joel coils one strong arm around your waist, his nose pressing against the hinge of your jaw. He lets you catch your breath. When you give your first, halting twist of your hips, he stutters an inhale, the fingers on your hip tightening.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, his voice tight with need. “Ride me, go on.” He starts to move with you, meeting every slow stroke of your hips. Every pass of his cock stokes the fire in your belly higher. You cling to him, needing to be as close as physically possible. The room feels suddenly stifling, your world shrunk down to just your bodies on Joel’s bed.

Your pace had started slow, but Joel is beginning to move with growing insistence. The hand on your hip presses between your bodies. When his searching fingertips find your clit, you drop your head back like a puppet whose strings have been cut. It opens you up more to Joel, giving him easier access to the sensitive bundle of nerves at your apex.

“Need you to come,” he grunts, his thumb stroking across your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.” With every thrust of his hips, he works his thumb across your clit, setting you alight from within and without. Every shift and touch pulls you closer towards the edge. He mouths at your neck, your eyes fluttering closed as you writhe on his lap.

You start to move a little faster, chasing the high of your climax. Joel matches your pace, the obscene sound of your bodies meeting filling the room.

“Like that, that’s it, sweetheart,” he croons. “Good girl, baby, take what you need…”

“Joel,” you whine. “Joel, Joel, Joel-” You say it like a prayer, chanting it over and over.

It’s not long before he sends you hurtling over the edge, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you barely manage to hold yourself upright. The tension that’s been coiling in your belly snaps, sending molten fire pouring through your body. You feel him covering your face with kisses, the sensation of it far away somehow as you come back to yourself slowly.

His thumb keeps stroking circles around your clit, dragging out your climax. It threatens to push you into oversensitivity, and you whimper pathetically. Your cunt clenches around his length, the muscles unsure whether they want to pull him in deeper or push him out. The fluttering of your walls must get him there; before your brain can catch up to what’s happening, he’s pulled out of you.

It only takes a few desperate strokes of his hand before he’s coming all over your stomach. You feel ruinously empty, your primal need for Joel not helped by the ragged groan he lets out as he comes. He sits back against the headboard, and you watch the rise and fall of his broad chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Sorry baby,” he mutters, his thumb catching a pearlescent bead of come before it can drip down onto your cunt. He reaches for the stack of rags he keeps in his bedside table for this purpose, carefully wiping away his spend. You’re too tired to wash properly; instead, you simply let yourself fall onto the bed beside him.

Joel presses a kiss to your forehead before rolling over to blow out the candle. Taking advantage of the movement, you curl up behind him, spooning him. For once, he doesn’t grumble and protest and claim he doesn’t like it. He just rests his hand atop yours, and lets you snuggle closer.

You look down to see if he needs help as he draws the blankets over you both, and you notice the window for the first time since you came home.

At some point while you were having sex, it started snowing. It’s coming down thick, the world outside the window only visible in shades of white and grey. Tomorrow, everything will look fresh and new, the perfect start to a new year.

“Joel?” You whisper softly.

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you agreed to come.” You rest your head against his back. It takes him a long moment to reply, and you almost wonder if he’s fallen asleep on you.

“I’m glad I went. It was my first good New Year’s in decades,” he says eventually. You snuggle closer, his back warm against your cheek.

“Happy New Year, Joel.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @irishavengersassemble

[discordantwritings]

The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 1 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: this chapter is SFW but the next one won’t be so still MDNI 18+, gn afab! Reader, Dragon Shifter! Sir Crocodile, the power dynamics are whack in this one not gonna lie, canon typical violence, Crocodile calls you pet

WC: 4.6k

Summary: You’re set to be sacrificed to the fearsome Dragon of the Sands as a tribute for your town. When you get down to the caves and get face to face with him however- you make a different choice.

Notes: this fic is for me ngl this is just me fully shoving my monsterfucking dragon loving desires onto sir crocodile and I hope other people like it

You knew long before your name was called that you were going to be the tribute to the sand dragon. No living family, you worked a non-essential job, healthy enough to make the journey to his cave- you checked all the sacrificial boxes. No one else seemed surprised either, very few people made the effort to even look sad for you. It was something that you were used to since you never made the effort to connect with anyone in your town.

You were independent- a symptom of your parents dying young and you having no family to take you in. No one else made the effort to help you, so you made no effort to help them whenever situations came up. You didn’t hate anyone, and no one hated you, but there was a large gap that you accepted a long time ago.

So when it was time to select a human tribute for the terrifying sand dragon that made his home in the caverns miles from your town- a ritual that happened once every 5 years to appease him on top of the annual gold tribute- everyone knew it was you. You had your bags packed at home already- not that you needed to pack much. The journey would take a day on horseback and as you strapped your bags to the horse’s saddle you couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

A sacrifice to be eaten, just like you.

A few people saw you off, mostly to be polite. A small token of appreciation to the person who was going to die so they could live worry free for another few years. It meant nothing to you.

The journey was painfully uneventful. Miles of sand dusting over craggy rocks with no other life in sight. You had hoped for something- anything- to keep your thoughts away from your impending doom but you never got that reprieve. So you stirred, and thought, and stewed until resentment and anger came bubbling up.

Why did you have to die? Just because your life sucked already? Because there was no one to stick up for you? Years of being alone suddenly tore through you- sadness hardening over into anger.

And then something else.

You don’t know what it is yet but it drives you to continue your journey until you reach the giant cavern opening jutting out of the dunes and rocks. You leave the horse at the entrance just underneath the lip of the cavern for some shade. Giving her your remaining water you leave her untied, hoping she’ll have a better chance than you.

It’s a long and dark journey down into the caverns below the desert, a single torch lighting your way. At first it was just rocks and sand lining the path down but soon it turned to bones and dented armor. You don’t look down for too long, knowing you’ll lose your nerve if you have to look at the discarded bodies knowing your skeleton might soon reside with them.

It takes you an hour, maybe, time is hard to gauge down here, to get to the first opening. Your torch lights only a fraction of the vast cavern but you quickly find you don’t need it- golden braziers line the stone walls and flicker with fire illuminating the space.

Initially you wonder if you were somehow transported somewhere else- because a place this nice existing in a deep underground cavern was vexing. The stone floor was covered in the most luxurious rugs you’ve ever seen. Deep reds, golds, and blacks overlap and you fight the urge to run your hands over the fabric. Mismatched furniture liters the space- all expensive in their own rights but seemingly misplaced as none of them are quite set up in a logical formation. A pleasant humidity hangs in the air and you look and see a small natural fountain in one of the far corners of the cave. On the opposite side of that there’s another tunnel that seems to continue down further into the earth.

What use does a dragon have for a living room?

“Seems like a little morsel has arrived at my doorstep.” A low voice echoes off the dark stone walls and practically shakes the ground you’re standing on. It’s hard to deny the deep instinct to run away- all of the cells in your body signal to you that this is a predator and you are prey.

From the far tunnel you hear the distinct sound of claws against stone and you know he’s coming. You hold your breath as a giant crocodile-esque head slides into view. If it wasn’t for the sheer size of this creature you think you could mistake him for a crocodile- the long flat snout and smooth scales resembling a mosaic across dark green skin. But the way the scales shine like emeralds flecked with gold set him apart. As his legs come into view your eyes are drawn to his front left leg. In contrast to the dark green of the rest of his body his front left leg from the elbow down was a bright shimmering gold. It almost seemed liquid the way it connected with his body but the way it landed with a hard thud with each step solidified its hardness. A deep gash ran across his snout, dull and long healed over. Bat like wings folded against his long body as he finally made the last few strides into the cavern with you.

It’s hard not to be in awe of a creature so terrifying yet stunning- fear overloading and loosing all meaning and giving way to appreciation. Colorless eyes lock in on you and his pupils contract into slivers. You truly and deeply feel like prey under his gaze.

“Your heart is beating so fast little tribute. Will you run? Will you fight? Or are you just going to stand there and let me eat you? I do love seeing how your little human brains scramble…” His maw opens and you see large, shining teeth- each probably as big as you. You’re not sure if a dragon can smile but you get the impression from his voice that he is, there must be something deeply amusing to him to see you falter under his gaze.

You don’t know what comes over you. That emotion that had puzzled you for the last day now rips up and into your throat, saying works your brain hasn’t even processed.

“What if I can make myself useful to you.”

Defiance.

That catches him off guard, his large head tilting slightly. He’s only confused for a second before he chuckles, a deep sound that shakes your ribcage. “Well this is new. And what do you think you could possibly do for me?”

And now your brain has caught up, desperately searching for good answers. “I can cook, I can clean, I can organize- I’m sure a dragon as important as yourself has much better things to do than worry about the day to day.”

There’s a painful silence as the dragon mauls over your answer, terrifying eyes dragging over your form. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself grounded.

“I have to admit, it is an interesting proposition.” He steps closer and lowers his head to the ground, jaws only a few feet from you. “It wouldn’t be a good life, serving under me.”

“It would be a life.”

“I guess it would.” You feel the heat of his breath wash over you. “If you ever underperform I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“I understand.”

“And you will do whatever I ask?”

“I will.”

“Then we have a deal.”

You feel like you’ve just sold your soul to the devil. In a way, you probably have. But you don’t feel bad about it at all.

His head swings up and away from you, standing up and nearly scraping the ceiling. “You’ll stay in here until I clear out a space for you. I’ll lay out where you can and cannot go and what your daily routine should be.”

You nod, knowing he probably doesn’t need to hear much more from you.

“Get some rest. I’ll start working you to the bone tomorrow.”

And with that he leaves you, thundering steps disappearing into the depths of the further tunnels. When you can no longer hear and feel the steps you collapse to the ground, exhausted from bargaining for your life. Every muscle in your body had been tensed and you work your way through your body, individually willing your body to relax.

This was your life now. You needed to get used to this fucked up situation very fast.

Gathering yourself you find the largest couch and drag it over by the fountain and begin putting together your makeshift bed. It was surprisingly comfortable and the sound of running water did a lot to block out your worst thoughts.

You shut your eyes and before you know it a sleep of sheer exhaustion catches you, dragging you down into unconsciousness.

You’re not sure how much sleep you got, there was no way to tell the time this deep underground. But you feel as rested as you probably could get under the circumstances and quickly move the couch back to where you found it before the dragon could come and see you’ve disturbed his room. Piling your stuff neatly behind a rock on along the wall of the cavern you wait for your instructions.

You pace the heavily rugged floor trying to keep an ear out for the distinctive sound of a dragon approaching. You don’t have to wait too long for some noise- but it’s not what you expect. You hear regular human foot steps echo through the far tunnel- are you not the only human here? Did someone sneak past you in the middle of the night? All your questions are stopped in their tracks when a man walks out of the tunnel.

Well, not quite a man.

He’s mostly human, standing on two legs with tanned skin and slicked back black hair. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a fur lined cloak covering his broad shoulders. But of course- there were the other features. You first notice his hands- one covered in green scales and ending in sharp claws, the other a molten gold molded into similar claws. His ears are longer and more pointed than a humans and across his face is a long dark scar. And of course you can’t miss the thick crocodile tail dragging behind him, the same deep emerald green scales of the dragon you faced yesterday.

As he walks closer you notice that he’s still so much bigger than you- towering over your form by three feet or more. His eyes had the same reptilian slit to them as he looked you up and down.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d think you’d be remiss not to call him handsome. But the fear for your life drowns out most of those traitorous thoughts.

“Surprised to see you didn’t try and scamper off during the night.” His voice, while certainly not as loud, still resonates deep in your chest as it echoes off the tall stone walls of the cavern.

“I made a deal, I intend to see it through.” You make the choice not to look him in the eyes out of fear of disrespecting him.

“Good to see you have some sense. Here.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out a rolled up piece of paper. You take it and unfold it and see a map. “This is your map of my lair. I’ve labeled the caverns you can go in and which ones you can’t. You step a single foot into somewhere you’re not supposed to be- I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.” You reply, looking over the map. You knew this place had to be massive but looking over the paper in your hand it was so much vaster than you imagined. Dozens of caves and tunnels interlinking, going over and under each other. It made your head swim.

“I’ll guide you to the important rooms so you don’t get lost. But after that I expect you to be able to navigate on your own.” He starts walking and you follow close behind as you try and track where you’re going on the map.

You travel down deep, following him as he quickly navigates the tunnels. Thankfully everything is lit by the same type of flaming braziers that are in the large entrance cavern.

“You don’t need to worry about preparing food for me- I only eat every few months and I eat more than you could possibly physically handle. You’re here to keep my lair neat and organized. Initial cleaning of the caverns I indicate and then if you do a good job- and only if- you can begin cataloguing my hoard.” He doesn’t make any effort to speak directly to you or to make sure you’re matching his pace.

“Yes my… lord?” It comes off more of a question as you quickly realize you have no idea what to refer to him as.

He stops in his tracks so abruptly you almost collide with his tail, but thankfully you’re able to stop just short. “This is the dry food storage, silly human foods that they leave as tribute. Should be enough for you to live on.”

You peek in, expecting a sparse and dingy space but are pleasantly surprised when you see all manner of foods. Beans, grains, dried fruits, spices, and probably more in the dark wooden cabinets and shelves. You only have that brief moment before he is walking off again and you hastily follow.

“Sir Crocodile. That’s the best name you humans have given me, so you can refer to me as such. My true name is unpronounceable for human forms.”

You nod, not like he can see you but better safe than sorry. Only a few tunnels later he stops again and points to the smallest cavern yet. It’s not actually small by most definitions of the word but as you gaze in you might actually call it cozy.

There’s a mismatch of elegant furniture piled in there- a dresser, a cabinet, a large bed, and rugs covering the stone floor. The bed is unmade but linens sit on top of it and even from this distance you know they are higher quality than you have ever even seen.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping and existing when not performing your duties. I don’t want you out wandering when I haven’t assigned you something.” And then he’s back to walking. You were expecting to just be thrown in a bare room but seemingly he put forth some effort… you’re not sure what to think about that.

The next stretch of your journey is long and you purposefully make sure your eyes don’t wander into any caverns you’re not stopping at. You focus on tracing your path, finger dragging along the rough paper of the map as you go.

“This is the last cave you’ll be allowed in until you prove yourself trustworthy.” He stops and finally fully turns around to face you. “This is my surplus- the stuff left to me that I deemed not worthy of my hoard. It’s been sitting and collecting dust for too long. I need to know what exactly is here and if I should keep it in storage or dispose of it. After you’re done cleaning the previous spaces and the tunnels between you can get to work on organizing and cataloging everything in here.”

To call this place a mess would be kind. Layers of junk and books haphazardly thrown into a cave that you honestly can’t tell the size of. There’s only room to get maybe five feet through the entrance before the wall of stuff is piled nearly as high as the ceiling. And on top of everything is a thick layer of dust and dirt. This might take your lifetime to sort through.

You turn your glance back to Sir Crocodile and realize he’s been carefully watching you this whole time, sharp gaze dragging over your body. Suddenly it’s ten degrees hotter in the tunnel and you force your eyes back to the ground. Did he purposefully make his human form attractive or was that just the default? And why did you even find the creature that could kill you without a second thought attractive. Stupid stupid base instincts.

“I suggest you clean the tunnels first so you learn your way. Then the entrance, food storage, and lastly here. You clean your room on your own time. I expect you to work at least eight hours a day- keep track with this.” That golden clawed hand extends out and you see a pocket watch settled in his palm. You reach out and take it, fingertips gliding over the cold metal of his hand.

“Thank you sir.” Pressing the small button on the top you find out what time it is- just before noon.

“Do your best not to make too much noise. If there is something so completely wrong you cannot deal with yourself just yell. I will hear. Just like I will hear if you try to leave, understood?”

“Yes.” Silence hangs awkwardly in the air and you look upward for a second to see him glaring down at you.

“Yes sir.” You correct, and his face returns to neutral.

“Alright, don’t make yourself too comfortable. I’ll check back soon.” And with that he turns and walks away, down a tunnel that you don’t have permission to tread into.

You let out a long breath, taking in all of the information he’s just given you. Using your map you (slowly) make your way back up through the tunnels to where you started. As you passed by the few spaces you were allowed in you couldn’t help but think about how much better this whole situation was than you expected.

Sure, scrubbing rock for weeks wouldn’t be fun but you expected much worse like cleaning his scales or butchering meals. You even had a space of your own that rivaled your room back home. Of course there’s no sunlight and you have the hanging threat of being eaten alive but you can’t help but feel a weird sense of relief. It’s not like you have anyone that you miss or responsibilities that you’ve left behind. This was just the newest (and incredibly bizarre) chapter in your life.

Well.

Time to get cleaning.

It takes you two weeks to clean the entrance, food storage, and the tunnels connecting them all. You worked more than your mandatory hours- what else were you going to do anyways, stare at stone walls? The work wasn’t fun by any means, dragging water to and from the fountain in the entrance cave was a serious workout, but there was something fulfilling once you were completely done with a space.

The entrance was the easiest given the water source was right there. You had taken one of the worse looking rugs and ripped it up to use as you cloths figuring you shouldn’t pester Sir Crocodile for cleaning supplies when you could figure out something on your own. Once everything had been as cleared of sand and dust as it could get you got to organize out the room- something actually a little fun.

You matched together furniture and set it up perfectly for gatherings. Not like there was actually ever going to be a gathering but at least your arrangement will never be messed up. You made sure to leave ample room for a dragon sized being to make it from the far tunnel to the exit- he probably leaves at some point.

The food storage wasn’t that bad either. You worked your way through it in between cleaning the entry cave and the tunnels, mostly when it was time to eat. There was a huge variety of food, most expensive and long lasting. It made sense, given that it was meant for Sir Crocodile and that no one would offer him anything less than their best for fear of being eaten. You were eating better than you had been in a while.

Throwing yourself into the work you could nearly forget why you were here in the first place. You hadn’t seen Sir Crocodile since he gave you that initial tour- you hadn’t even heard or felt movement deeper in the tunnels. Despite having no signs of him you could still feel his presence somehow. Every time you turned around you expected to see him standing there, judging you. But he never was. Maybe it was a sign you were doing a good enough job but you had no confidence in that.

No matter if your job was up to the correct standards or not you were onto your final task- cleaning and organizing the overstock. Far away the most daunting task. You have your bucket and cloths but honestly you have no idea where to start.

“From the top.” That deep voice comes from right behind you and the yelp that leaves you as you jump is mortifying.

You whip around and see Sir Crocodile in his humanoid form, clearly pleased with the reaction he got from you. He’s got a nasty grin, showing that his teeth are just as sharp as they are in his draconic form.

“I’m sorry sir?” You do your best to return your heart rate to its normal rhythm as you straighten yourself out.

“You were trying to figure out how to start here. From the top. Taking anything from the base even if it seems loose might cause the whole pile to collapse and crush you to death.” There’s a few terrifying seconds where you think he can read your mind but you shove that away- it was probably incredibly obvious how lost you were.

“Thank you sir.” It was probably simple advice but getting a clear starting point was relieving.

“Of course, I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”

Your brain struggles to process that statement, a weird mix of emotions swirling in your stomach at his words. You shove it all down for now- you can parse through that later.

“I’m glad my work is up to your standards sir. Was there something you needed?” Your hands grip your water bucket tight as his gaze bores into you.

“I’m just making sure that you are still aware of my presence. For a human though, you do seem pretty competent. You haven’t even tried to run away once.” He steps closer to you, invading your space. “Why is that?”

“I-“ You suck in a breath as you try and fight the urge to cower. “I have nothing to go back to.”

His pupils are narrow slits as they rake over your face for a few painfully silent moments. He then straightens up, barely exiting your personal space. “Interesting.”

He turns and slowly walks away, a clawed hand waving in the air. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You finally exhale when he leaves the space, able to relax just a bit. Shoving down all your thoughts for now you focus on cleaning in a way that doesn’t destabilize the pile and crush you. It works for a while as a distraction but you slowly lose your focus and need to stop for the day.

It wasn’t until you were tucked in bed that you allowed your emotions to surface.

“I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”

It should disgust you to be called a pet. It should be dehumanizing and humiliating to have someone else look at you and see you as something so small, something they own. You search and hope that’s what’s churning deep in your stomach.

It’s not.

A shameful realization washes over you as the words repeat in your head, that low, terrifying voice somehow praising you while putting you down. You weren’t disgusted.

Heat pools in the pit of your body, a sick reaction you couldn’t will away.

You loved when he called you his pet.

You were fucked.

For the next few weeks your work slowed considerably. Not because you were less motivated- but because the overstock room had so many wonderful things. Sure there was a fair share of junk- broken porcelain dishes, rotting wooden statues, things that are so beaten you can’t even hope to identify. But the things that aren’t junk are fascinating.

You find trinkets and toys that spin and dance in ways you can’t figure out. Jewelry that despite being dusty, rusted, or dented was still gorgeous. Hand woven blankets and rugs that you could see the time and energy put in despite the holes and fraying edges. And then there were the books.

Most were non-fiction and on topics you could have only ever hoped to have learned about. From science to history to mathematics and everything in between every single page was fascinating. Every day you collected all the new books you would find and saved them for yourself later.

You’ve made yourself a reading corner in that cavern- cast off rugs and blankets folded and placed over the stone so you can sit somewhat comfortably. You fall back to only working your exact hours so you can spend the rest of your time reading. Pages old and new fill your head and you can only wonder that if these were the books dismissed by the sand dragon- what books lay in his true hoard?

“And what are you doing?” How someone so large continues to sneak up on you you’ll never understand.

You jump up, fear gripping your chest as he catches you decidedly not working. His face is decidedly unamused and you think that maybe you’ve really fucked up.

“I-“ For a second you debate lying, debate saying that you were thumbing through the pages to properly organize the book. But you aren’t the best liar- certainly not in the face of someone so terrifying. “I’m spending my off time reading through some of your books sir. I figured asking if I could read through some of your spare books was a question I shouldn’t have bothered you with.”

“Smart move pet.” Your body relaxes slightly, having made the right move. “What are you reading?”

That question catches you off guard, not expecting him to care. “Oh, this is a book on astronomy.”

“And is that interesting to you?” You can’t tell if it’s just his natural tone that makes it sound almost like an accusation or if he’s judging you.

“It’s something I never had the chance to learn about before so I decided to take the opportunity to educate myself.”

Crocodile nods, seemingly pleased with your answer. “A good use of your spare time. Just don’t get carried away.”

“Yes, of course sir.”

And like that he’s gone again. The conversation lingers in your mind until the next day when you come back to the cavern to see a plush chair situated where your rugs had been set up.

You can’t stop yourself from flushing as you look over your gift. You try not to let your thoughts and emotions get away from you, there was probably a banal reason he put a chair in here for you. I mean, sitting on the floor was probably bad for your back and if it was bad for your back then your work could be impacted.

It’s that and not that he might care about you.

No matter what, reading is a lot nicer when you’re not sitting on a stone floor.

[littlexdeaths]

ten minus two with you - r.b.

modern robin buckley x queer reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: robin and reader are in their 20’s, allusions to smut, reader is a tease, oral sex, fingering, public sex, heavy petting, both reader and robin are tipsy & in love, getting caught, little nod to queer steve

a/n: this is absolutely inspired by the few times i’ve had steamy make out sessions in bathroom stalls oops. the title is a line from one of kehlani’s new songs called 8… go stream it now.

word count: 1.7k

also big thank you to both @strangerstilinski and @xxbimbobunnyxx for listening to me ramble and helping me so much. ily both so much!! now enjoy babes xx.

You’re a mess of limbs and colorful fabric as you both stumble into the bathroom of the bar. Your sweaty bodies are buzzing from the flow of alcohol in your veins and the feel of her lips against yours.

Your lipgloss is smudged, the glitter littering your cheeks has transferred to hers in your hurry to taste each other. The blonde eagerly leads you into the stall, caging your body against the door. Her fingers fumble to slide the lock into place before they are back on you.

“You really know how to keep a girl waiting, huh?” She all but grumbles, earning a small giggle from you as her lips trail down your jaw.

You hadn’t meant to tease her per se, but it was genuinely so easy with Robin.

All you had to do was bat your lashes in her general direction and she’s flustered. But the outfit you’d chosen to wear for the pride festivities really had her riled up. Even though you had spent the early afternoon getting ready together, she wasn’t expecting it.

The sounds of Pom Pom Squad filter through your shared apartment, all sorts of makeup products scattered across the floor of your bedroom. You both sat amongst the chaos, giggling in excitement as you passed a cheap bottle of wine back and forth.

While Robin wasn’t too keen on wearing makeup most days, she happily let you paint her lids in varying shades of pink and orange. The wine had you both feeling fuzzy, stealing chaste kisses as Robin helped apply a sticky rainbow glitter to your cheeks.

Her brows were scrunched in concentration, her tongue just barely poking out from between her teeth as she worked.

“So serious, Robs.” you giggle.

She just grins, shaking her head fondly as she wipes the remaining glitter on a makeup wipe.

“I take my job as resident glitter artist very seriously,” she teases, pressing a small kiss to your nose.

When her phone starts to ring in the other room she is quick to go get it, knowing it would likely be Steve. Which left you to finish putting your outfit together as she reiterated to him what the plans were for the day. Robin had everything planned out, your group would meet to watch the pride parade in downtown Indy.

Then you would end the evening with a little pub crawl of her own design. She’s had this planned for weeks now, determined to make your first pride as an official couple a memorable one. But the one thing your girlfriend wasn’t prepared for was the way she’d react to seeing your outfit in its full glory.

So when you stepped into the living room wearing a cropped, bright pink shirt with the words ‘The Pussy Diet’ etched across the front her jaw dropped. You paired it with a pair of high waisted cutoff shorts that hugged your curves just right, fishnets and your trusted Doc Martens— you were everything she’s ever wanted.

“I think you’ve got some drool there, baby,” you smirk, stepping between her open legs as you swipe your thumb over the corner of her mouth.

Robin responds by guiding your thumb past her lips, tongue swirling around it. With a soft groan her fingers dig into the meat of your hips as she maneuvers you onto her lap. Her lips find yours in a clash of tongues and teeth, causing a soft mewl to rise in your throat.

If it wasn’t for Steve’s insistent banging on your apartment door, your girlfriend would’ve had you sprawled out on the sofa until your legs were shaking. But your friends were waiting on you, so she reluctantly let you tug her along without any further protest.

However your accidental teasing only continued to escalate the more the day went on.

During the parade you had coaxed her onto your lap, in the rush to leave your apartment you had forgotten to bring an extra lawn chair. Your hands unconsciously wandered beneath the hem of her button down shirt, fingertips splaying across her soft skin.

Under normal circumstances she would find this kind of touch comforting, but instead it had her fighting the urge to slide your hand just a little lower…

“— You okay, Robbie?”

Your soft voice snaps her out of her trance, her cheeks flushing as a nervous laugh leaves her lips.

“Oh, yeah!” She rasps, trying her best to play off the obvious hitch in her tone. “Never better.”

As she continues to watch the parade, you find yourself studying her. Her cheeks were flushed a lovely shade of pink, her leg bouncing in between your own. Robin could easily blame the scorching summer heat for the reason behind her blush, but you knew better.

It was obvious by the way her breath hitched whenever your fingertips grazed her skin, and she carefully pressed her thighs together. She wants you, and she wants you badly. So you really can’t help yourself from wanting to tease her even more.

And you do, but subtly enough that your friends wouldn’t take notice. You’d slip your hand into the back pocket of her jeans as you walked between bars. Squeezing her ass as you pull her in for a needy kiss when no one was paying attention.

You even gave her a little show when you did a sultry rendition of Crimson & Clover at a karaoke bar you stopped at. You watched in absolute delight at the way her bright eyes never left you, even as Steve so desperately tried to get her attention.

So much for being his wing-woman tonight.

But the worst was when you were on the dance floor, losing yourself in the music. She opted to watch for a while, eyes darkening with each sway of your hips. But with Steve now preoccupied by a gorgeous drag queen, Robin had no choice when you coaxed her over with your index finger.

Her feet carry her across the sticky dance floor, her body all but melting into yours. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you wrap your arms around her waist, tugging her closer so your breasts are flush against her own. But when your lips brush against her ear, and you start grinding on her thigh is the moment she loses what little self control she has left.

Robin takes your hand and urgently tugs you through a sea of rainbow lights and glitter, your heartbeat rivals the pounding bass as you enter the bathroom.

But once she has you pinned to that metal door, it’s game over.

The feeling of her lips trailing over your sweaty skin is utterly intoxicating and when her fingers dip past the hem of your shorts you’re putty in her nimble hands. Those same fingers glide through the mess between your thighs, coaxing not one, but two orgasms from you in record time.

So in your mind, she’s definitely earned this.

“That’s— ah,” she pants, her hips rutting up against your mouth as you continue to lap at her puffy clit. “That’s so good, honey. Fuck, you’re so good.”

Robin can almost feel the way your lips lift up in a grin as a mixture of your own saliva and her juices drip down your chin like liquid honey. You pin her hips to the cool metal of the stall wall in an effort to stop her from squirming more.

The feeling of the grimy tile beneath your knees does nothing to deter you, if anything it encourages you more. Just knowing that anyone could walk through that door at any given minute makes all this that much more exciting.

“Hm,” you hum, against her. “You like it when I do this?”

You flatten your tongue, rubbing firm circles over her swollen bud as you slip another finger inside her. Robin keens at the feeling, her fingers gripping onto the edge of the stall to steady herself while her other hand cups the nape of your neck to hold you in place.

“God, yes,” she babbles, her cerulean hues taking on a glassy quality. “I’m so close, baby.”

Her leg that was hooked over your shoulder starts to tremble when you apply more pressure to her clit. Your fingers increase their pace, curving them to rub up against her sweet spot just right. Robin is a beautiful, panting mess above you and that sight alone is enough to have you moaning against her pussy.

Neither of you register the bathroom door opening or the click of heels walking past your stall over the heavy bass from inside the bar and the soft whimpers your girlfriend was letting out. But when the sink turns on both of you freeze, silently praying that the person on the other side didn’t notice you.

A moment passes in silence, and you think you’re in the clear. Just as you’re about to continue circling your tongue over her clit, a melodic voice stops you.

“You know… if you’re really looking for some privacy,” they pause, shutting the water off. “There’s a lot less traffic behind the bar, dolls.”

You curse softly, a resounding chuckle leaves them as you fumble to help Robin put her jeans back on. Her face is deeply flushed from the embarrassment of being caught in this position and the buildup of her now stalled orgasm.

You finally dared a glance through the crack in the chipped metal frame and you’re faced with one of the many queens you’d seen perform earlier in the night. She meets your eyes in the mirror before giving you a playful wink as she fluffs her large blonde wig and turns on her heel back towards the door.

“Now, don’t do something I wouldn't!” She pauses before her laughter echoes through the bathroom again, “Or do, live a little. Happy Pride, lovelies.”

She calls over her shoulder, the sounds from the bar spill back into the bathroom before you’re both met with subdued silence. You lean back against the stall wall opposite of Robin, both of you suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles at what just transpired.

“I can’t believe Miss Anna Conda herself, just caught us like this,” you snort.

Robin just gazes at you, hooking her fingers into the loops of your shorts to pull you in closer. She’s practically glowing as she nudges her nose against yours with a playful grin.

“Take me home?” she asks, though her question is slightly muffled when your lips find hers again.

“Always.”

tagging some lovelies: @edsbug @eddiesxangel @splendiferous-bitch @undead-supernova @paybacksawitch @nailbatanddungeon @lokis-army-77 @babygorewhore @voyeurmunson @bimbobaggins69

[lujingheswife]

resonance with the rain.

soulmate au! get the same emotions as your soulmate does when they're experiencing strong emotions (when they’re sad, you’re suddenly sad)

featuring: neuvillette

word count: 2k+

summary: nobody understands the rain as much as you do, for your emotions always synchronise with the downpour in fontaine.

cw: gn!reader, human!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death, fluff if you squint. dni if: you hate immortal x human :(

author’s notes: i’m a sucker for soulmate au !!!! tried out a human reader this time just for the funsies i guess,,,,, also i made a taglist for my soulmate au series !!! feel free to ask (and which character/all) if you wanna be tagged !!!

in the land of fontaine, there was a story told to the children whenever it rains.

“the hydro dragon once resided in fontaine, and every time it weeps, the skies will cloud up and pour out rain.”

a small legend you heard of as you grew up.

born and raised in fontaine, you had always watched your friends and family spending time with their respective soulmates. you admired how they were able to share their emotions and their burdens with each other. you remembered when you were younger, your father always came home with treats whenever your mother happened to be sad.

you were still a child when you asked him about how he was always there when she was sad, your father replied, “all of us has a soulmate. and you share your strong emotions with them.”

you held your father’s hand as you walked home with him from the groceries. your small grip on his hand tightened as you tried to catch up with his pace.

“i see,” you muttered softly.

you looked up towards the skies above, noticing that the clouds have gathered in one. a strange yet familiar feeling of uneasiness churned in your chest when your face was hit with small droplets of water that begun to grow heavier. everyone around you had started running for shelter; some had their umbrellas opened as an emergency.

you felt your father quickly carrying you up back home to not catch a cold. yet, your gaze never left the grey clouds covering the blue skies. your vision blurred from the tears welling up your eyes and your heart felt like it was being clenched tightly.

“goodness, is there another trial happening today?” you heard a citizen shouting as they ran as fast as they could.

you could no longer take it. you were happy just a second ago with your father, but why were you suddenly sad again on another downpour?

“hydro dragon… hydro dragon…” you choked out as your grip on your father’s wet shirt tightened.

“don’t cry…”

the cycle went on for the next few years growing up. during downpours, your heart becomes swelled with sadness. there were times when your parents tried to cheer you up and when they worked, the rain miraculously stopped as if they had responded to your laughter.

such events made you questioned the nature of rain. it was as if you were meant to resonate with it and vice versa. did the hydro dragon respond to your chant?

you wiped the tears off your cheek as you walked through the streets, the gentle droplets pattering above your head protected by an umbrella. the rain today felt different today, as if it was meant to relief a form of stress that had been piling up recently.

now an adult, you believed that your soulmate definitely had to do with the rain. although it seemed unbelievable at first, it was the only thing that could convince you that your soulmate was probably not human at all.

your countless emotions that always had to do with the downpours in fontaine, and how it always stopped when you felt the utmost joy of the day. and whenever you were sad, the heaviness of the rain would always depend on how sad you would be. when you were mad, the skies become covered in dark grey clouds.

your legs unconsciously dragged themselves to a familiar place you would visit every week. a grassy area by the lake, a cemetery, the place where rain never failed to visit whenever you arrive to meet your parents.

however unlike the usual, there was another person standing in front of a tombstone. the familiar figure was dressed formally in blue, his long white hair with blue highlights which you thought would look lovely in the wind was drenched from the rain that still poured endlessly.

you knew only one person in fontaine would have such appearance.

“monsieur neuvillette,” you called softly. the man in front you turned his head, his gaze fixed upon yours. to him, you were an unfamiliar person— just a mere citizen of fontaine; but to you, he was a powerful man who now leads the region— being the iudex and chief justice no one would dare to defy him.

you had no idea whether he was surprised or not, probably at the sight of your swollen eyes before you had even arrived the cemetery. he gave you a slight bow in return. “my apologies if i’m interrupting your time,” he said.

you shook your head. “it’s alright, monsieur,” you replied. your grip on the umbrella tightened ever so slightly at the sight of his drenched body unprotected in the rain, the feeling in your chest tightened. had he never protect himself from the rain?

the air was filled with silence as you took a few steps towards him before hovering your umbrella over both of you. the rain seemed to have slowed down, only a light drizzle surrounding you and him but you just needed to shield him from it.

how his eyes widened at your merely simple gesture. neuvillette looked away as he placed a hand over his mouth, letting out a small cough. “i apologise,” he muttered, “i don’t know if it makes any sense but, my chest is feeling a little… tight right now.”

oh! oh archons.

“m-my apologies, monsieur! it’s only been our first meeting but i’ve made things awkward between us,” you hastily said.

neuvillette shook his head, his head now turned towards the tombstones in front of him. “don’t worry about it,” he said. he turned his head back to you, his gaze refused to leave yours as he questioned, “i supposed you’re here to pay someone a visit, right?”

you nodded and walked not far from where you were, now standing in front of where your parents were buried. “yes. i visit my parents every week.”

the iudex had unconsciously followed you, now his turn to hold the umbrella above the two of you. he had just realised the bouquet of flowers you had brought with you, placed on the stone that had your parents’ names carved on.

he allowed the silence to take over as he accompanied you throughout the afternoon. he listened to you talk to your parents— talking about how your week has been, how you had tried a new pastry, and much more.

the skies had longed stopped crying, but the grey clouds still lingered around. it was not long until he heard how your words had transitioned to choked sobs as you with heavy heart knelt in front of your parents, hugging your legs as a form of comfort.

neuvillette felt the familiar sense of emotions engulfing him tightly— the sorrow that he felt on this day every week; as if he knew exactly how you were feeling.

he stood there in silence, maintaining his grip on the umbrella. the clouds have cried again, and it was as heavy as it always had been every week. he questioned himself a few times about his sudden change of emotions when he was merely doing his paperwork. when he asked the only person he could ask— navia— for advice, she only asked,

“monsieur neuvillette, perhaps you have a soulmate?”

a soulmate?

he watched her nod in response, perhaps surprised that she was requested just to give advice for the chief justice of fontaine. “you see, we have soulmates— a person we’re destined to be with,” she began, her eyes never leaving the curious iudex which she found entertained, “and when we feel extreme emotions, they have it too. vice versa.”

“i see,” he replied. he took his chin between his fingers as he pondered a little longer, “so the reason i’ve been feeling.. sad, every week for no reason is because of my ‘soulmate’?”

“aha! you get it, monsieur!” she chimed, clapping her hands proudly.

he thanked her one last time before sending her off to the entrance of palais mermonia.

“a soulmate…”

his soulmate was crying again, on this very day.

his gaze was stubborn enough to not want to let go of you. the rain was heavy again, his eyes half opened from the numbness of his soulmate’s emotions, yet his shaky grip continued holding onto the umbrella protecting both him and the crying person he had just met.

the hydro dragon sovereign never needed an umbrella, but he was doing it for you. he needed to do it for you.

“monsieur,” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear, “have you heard of soulmates?”

his eyes widened ever so slightly at the term he had been interested in for a long time. “yes, i have,” he replied.

a pause of silence filled the air, only the sound of patters from the sky remained.

“sometimes i wonder if my soulmate is the hydro dragon,” you added. neuvillette paused, thinking again of what you had just said earlier.

you sniffed, “since i was little, my sad emotions have always been to do with the rain. whenever i’m sad, the skies cry with me; whenever the skies are sad, i cry with them.

“the cycles goes on… ever since my parents passed away, the skies accompany me to cry with them every morning. it was as if… i could understand the rain.”

he watched as you stand up as you walked with him out of the cemetery. he watched your figure leaving the protection of the umbrella, your clothes drenched in the rain as you looked up to the sky.

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

the rain got heavier at your words. your swollen eyes allowed more tears to escape as they mix themselves with the raindrops on your face.

oh, what should he do?

his soulmate is human.

a shaky breath escaped neuvillette’s lips.

he unconsciously stepped forward and took your hand gently in his, ignoring the surprised gasp from you. his figure was faced opposite yours, facing you as he slowly clasped the umbrella with your hands. his hand never left yours, allowing it to protect the shaky hand gripping on the umbrella.

“allow me to be selfish for once,” he muttered softly, “for i do not wish you to catch a cold.”

knowing how he should be protecting his identity as the hydro dragon sovereign, he instead decided to use his powers to keep you dry. a flick of his free hand and he created a barrier for you to stay dry from the downpour.

“monsieur neuvillette, what is this— oh…”

realisation struck upon you.

how the unique eyes that resembled a dragon’s on the iudex.

how he did not seem to be affected by the heaviness of the rain.

how he had just used his powers on you, but he did not wield a vision.

“i apologise for the late introduction, and only realising it today,” neuvillette breathed. before he continued his sentence, he felt his newfound soulmate closing the gap between you and him as you clashed your figure against his, sharing the warmth between you and him. the grips on your umbrella was released as it fell onto the ground unattended.

a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and a pair of arms wrapped around yours. it was a tight embrace, and their first embrace.

no sounds whatsoever, but he felt the joy sprouting within his heart. and he believed you felt the same too.

for the skies have cleared up slowly, leaving the light illuminating the land of fontaine.

“i’ve kept you waited long enough, haven’t i?” he whispered. he felt your arms wrapped around his torso tightened. his hand reached up to caress your hair, unconsciously resting his head on your shoulder.

“my dear soulmate.”

oh, what should he do?

his soulmate is human.

but you are still his soulmate… would it hurt to give this a try?

oh, what should you do?

your soulmate is not human.

but you could never be complete without meeting your soulmate, could you?

the anemo archon sent you the wind as a congratulatory gift.

the skies were illuminated with a rainbow.

there you were, not letting go of your soulmate's hand, who happened to be the iudex of fontaine. you found your soulmate.

now, what will the future bring ahead of you?

soulmate au! series taglist: @esthelily

[atomicami]

the perfect fit

model!abby anderson x fashion designer!reader

- summary: it’s the start of your new job working for armani as a fashion designer, and your first assignment is to design and create a suit for an upcoming runway event. despite the fact that you can’t stand your chosen model, you also can’t help but find her very attractive too.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, nyc living, reader has a degree in fashion design, reader is a bit of a perfectionist, model!abby, abby’s a little cocky, work sex, fingering & strap usage (r!receiving), abby refers to her strap as her cock, size kink, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: so i was highly inspired by this abby x model!reader fic that i decided to try to write out a fic of my own with this new pairing!! i hope y’all like it :)

also dedicating this one to my girl @whore4abby ily darling 🤍

New York City was always known to be the place where one’s dreams were meant to fly as high as the skyscrapers that rose in its urban atmosphere. It was known to be the perfect capital city for all professions, including fashion.

Living in New York had always been the dream for you, and although you were now residing there for school, you weren’t exactly fulfilling your dreams just yet. So when you had called your parents one day to break the bad news to them, you knew that they weren’t going to be on board with your sudden change of plans.

“You’re switching majors? But why?” your dad asked through the phone. “I thought you wanted to study law.”

No, you didn’t. Your parents had been telling everyone they knew in your small town that you were going to major in law after high school and become the best lawyer to walk the streets of New York, and as a result, you couldn’t help but select that major just to please them.

“I don’t, Dad…If you had listened to me in the first place, you would know that I never wanted to do that,” you tell him.

“Well, that’s alright, law school isn’t for everyone now.” your dad told you before continuing. “What are you going to study instead? Medicine? Psychology? Business?”

You took a deep breath before continuing. “Fashion design…” you mutter back to him.

You can already imagine the outburst he was going to have. It was almost as if you could feel the anger bubbling within him through the phone.

“Fashion?! Are you seriously out of your mind?!” your dad exclaimed back at you. His reaction was so uncalled for that you had to take him off of speakerphone.

And after a long lecture from him later, he simply told you that he wasn’t going to pay for your tuition anymore before hanging up the phone.

Even though you were expecting that kind of reaction from your parents, your father more specifically, you still couldn’t help but feel so…discouraged. You’ve been wanting to be a fashion designer ever since you were little, and your parents’ lack of support did nothing but steal your happiness in fulfilling your dreams.

But at the same time…you felt determined to prove them wrong. You wanted to show them that you weren’t making this change just take the easy way out, you were doing it because you’ve been wanting to pursue this career your whole life. You wanted to show them that you were meant to be working in a fashion studio, not a courtroom.

Fast forward to now, and you’ve graduated from Parsons at the top of your class with a fashion degree, only to soon land a job working as a fashion designer at one of Giorgio Armani’s establishments right here in New York City.

Once the first day of your new job came around, you needed to give the best impression there, making sure to arrive before your boss did. After all, if it weren’t for Tess selecting you as one of the potential candidates as a fashion designer for that establishment, you’d probably still be job hunting by now.

You sat at your desk, eyeing the surroundings of the large studio you were in at this moment. All of the fabrics, mannequins, tools, and machines just waiting to be used. It still felt like a fever dream to you.

The sound of the opening doors of the warehouse startles you, causing you to and some of the designers in the studio to turn around, while the others are still chattering.

Tess walks into the studio and stands in the middle of the room before bringing everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone,” she shouts with a loud clap of her hands, causing the rest of the room to quiet down. “I have decided to put you all in charge of creating the looks for Armani’s upcoming winter fashion show. Each of you will be given a model to work on, and you are welcome to create whatever you’d like, as long as it meets the requirements for the show.”

“But, isn’t the winter fashion show only a month from now?” one of the designers asked.

“Yes, Yes it is, actually,” Tess replies with a nod. “So I expect to see the best work done by you all within the time being. I’d like to see how well my designers can work under pressure.”

You let out a sigh in frustration and held your face in your hands. How the hell were you going to have a look ready in just a month?

Tess checks the time on her watch before looking up at the clock for reassurance. “The models should be arriving any minute now, once they get here I’ll be assigning them out to everyone, and we’ll start today off by taking their measurements and sketching out designs. When you are finished, I—“ Her words are cut off by the sound of the warehouse doors opening again.

You look over again with the rest of the designers to see another staff member enter the room with a variety of models trailing behind her in a single file line. She then approaches Tess to talk to her for a brief moment before soon exiting the warehouse by herself. “Alright everyone,” Tess shouts out again, looking down at the clipboard that was in her hands. “When I call out your name to your assigned model, I would like you to stand up from your desk so they know who you are.”

As Tess begins to assign the models, the sound of a chair swiveling over to your left makes you turn your head, and you see that it was Dina scooching closer to you. “See anyone you might like?” she whispers over to you, her eyes still fixed on the line of models in the room.

“I honestly could care less about who Tess puts me with,” you whisper back to her, leaning back against your chair and crossing one of your legs over the other. “As long as they don’t give me a hard time, I should be good.”

Dina nods in response, she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of Tess calling out your name. As a result, you rise from your seat and stand behind your desk.

“You’ll be working with Anderson as your model,” she tells you, and you watch as Tess looks over to your model and points at you, indicating her to walk over to where you were.

Intimidation strikes through you as she approaches your desk. You can’t really put your finger on it, but from the first impression, you’re quite convinced it's because of her broad figure that stood out from everyone else. You look over to Dina, to which she looks back at you and simply mouths a ‘good luck’ on your end.

Tess soon does a quick check around the room, making sure each designer has a model to work with. “Alright, now that everyone has an assigned model, you can all get started. Remember now, the winter show is a month from today, so I hope you can all make the best use of your time.” and with that, she exits the studio, leaving you and the rest of the designers to be.

Abby has her side resting against your desk, watching you draw out some looks on your sketchbook. “Just so you know…” she starts, leaning in closer to your right side. “I’m like, the biggest model here, so don’t be surprised when you run out of fabric for that pretty outfit you’ve planned out for me.”

You look over to Abby and roll your eyes before setting your pencil down and opening the side drawer of your desk. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you tell her as you take out the soft tape measure from your drawer and stand up from your seat. “Come on, let me take your measurements now.”

Based on that first interaction alone, you knew that Abby was going to be a distraction for your project, and boy you were right.

This past month has felt like hell for you, and Abby’s cocky, conceited persona wasn’t making it any better for you.

Things were fine at first, at least enough for you to manage. But it wasn’t until the second fitting that she’s been starting to really get on your nerves.

The fitting room in the Armani establishment was spacious, each designer/model pair had their spot to do the fittings and make any adjustments if needed.

Abby walks over to your side of the fitting room fully dressed in her runway outfit. You had beautifully created a navy blue suit that complimented her freckled skin and blue eyes perfectly, and the entire outfit had Swarovski crystals sewn all over the place. It was a timeless and classic look for the show.

It’s a shame that your model has to be so arrogant for the time being.

You look over to her and snap your fingers. “Stand over there,” you tell her, pointing over to the small, round altar that was next to you. Abby simply obliges and stands up on the altar to face you, both of her hands crossed at her front.

You notice this and walk over to her, grabbing at her hands. “I need your hands at your sides, you’re a model, not a security guard.” you tell her sternly, separating her hands so each one is at her side. You then sit down on the stool behind you, bringing yourself down to face her lower half so you can check the fitting of her suit pants.

Starting at the bottom of her pants and making your way up, the pants seem to fit well on her so far. Given Abby’s large build, the fit is as snug as can be, but not too tight to where it would make her uncomfortable when walking. If you had made it any tighter, you’re convinced that the fabric might rip.

However, it wasn’t until you look at the waistline of the pants. For some reason, that area looked unusually tighter than it was compared to the last fitting. The zipper on her pants looked like it was going to burst. It’s almost as if she was hiding something underneath…

You tap the side of her thigh to get her attention, causing her to tilt her head down. ”What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the slight bulge that was sticking out of her pants.

She simply smirks back at you and shakes her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” she mumbles out, looking back up.

Your eyes were still fixed on her face, and you grabbed at her crotch, causing her to slightly jerk back. You knew damn well what it was that she had in those pants.

“Jesus,” she says, looking back down at you. “Chill out, will you?”

“Take it off,” you tell her sternly, standing back up from the stool. “I’m not going to have my look completely ruined as a result from one of your little games.”

You were close to having an outburst in the middle of the fitting room since you were starting to get some looks from some of the other designers and models in the room, including Dina. It was a good thing that Tess wasn’t there to see it though.

Abby simply rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat before stepping off of the altar and exiting the fitting room to go change. The two of you were being quite immature about this, but you were seriously in need of your look to be perfect for the show, and Abby was keeping you from doing so.

A couple more weeks pass by and before you know it, the day of the show is just right around the corner from now.

Your shift at the studio had just ended, and people were starting to gather their things to leave, while you still sat by your large mannequin, making adjustments and adding touches to your look.

Dina walks up behind you and taps your shoulder, causing you to pull out one of your headphones from your ear and turn around.

“Hey,” she says. “Some of us are going to head out to Dalton’s for drinks. Wanna come with?”

You shake your head in response. “I can’t, I really have to finish this look in time for the show, I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”

You hear her let out a sigh and nod. “Alright well, just don’t stress yourself out, okay?” she asks, gently squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she says, and you nod back at her as you watch her put her bag over her shoulder and exit the studio.

Once she leaves, you notice Tess at walking towards you at the corner of your eye. “Hey kid,” she says leaning against your desk with her arms crossed, keys jingling in one of her hands. “You plan on leaving soon?”

You let out a sigh and turned your head to face her. “Just let me stay a little longer, Tess…I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”

She sighs back and hesitates for a moment while rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, I’ll give you an hour, but that’s it. I don’t want you spending the night here.” She then gets off your desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, the doors will lock automatically once you leave.”

You nod in response and thank her before watching her walk away from the dim lighting that shined on your side of the studio. You were instantly relieved to be able to have some time for yourself to work on the suit.

However, that doesn’t last long when another set of footsteps enter the studio and begin to approach you from behind once again.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder, this time causing you to jump up and turn around in fear for a moment before realizing who it is. “Jesus, Anderson…you scared the hell out of me,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you even doing here? Your final fitting isn’t until Friday.”

Abby lets out a chuckle at your frightened reaction and shakes her head. “I just came here to get my car keys,” she says, grabbing them off the shelf where she had left them. “I left them last time I was here.”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to face your desk and away from her. “Well, now that you have your keys, can you go now? I need to keep working.”

As you were about to put your headphones back on, Abby began to speak once again. “What’s your deal?” she asks you.

You let out a huff and set your phone down before looking back at her. “My deal is that I’ve had to deal with your arrogance this past month and it’s been driving me insane. All I want right now is to have this time to myself so I can finish this suit in time for the show.”

The smirk that was growing on Abby’s face right now was so big you could practically see it from your peripheral vision. She then begins to walk around until she’s behind you on your desk. “It seems like you could loosen up a bit, you know…” she tells you as she slightly leans in closer to your ear, trapping you between your desk and her chest. You could already feel a familiar bulge poking at your lower back. It was that same bulge that you were just grabbing at in the fitting room not too long ago.

You roll your eyes at her in response. “Is that so?” you whisper back to her, just enough so she can hear you. “And what might that be, exactly?”

Her hands make their way down to your waist, grabbing you and turning you around so you are now face-to-face with her. “How about I show you, yeah?” she whispers to you, to which you nod desperately.

Despite how much you couldn’t stand her, you really couldn’t help but be into her at the same time, and not only has she also been aware of it, but she felt the same way with you too.

You feel her hands move from your waist down to the buttons of your pants, and you look down at your lap as a result. “Let’s see what we have here now…” she murmurs, slowly undoing your pants and sliding them off your legs and to the ground. Once your pants were fully removed, she helped give you a boost so you could sit up on your desk.

Abby instantly opens your legs the second your ass hits your desk, immediately eyeing the visible wet patch that was seeping through your black underwear. “Well well well, what do we have here…” she mutters out, hooking a finger underneath your underwear and shifting it to the side, causing your wet pussy to be exposed to her and the cold air of the studio. “This all for me?” she asks, looking back up at you.

All you can simply do is bite your lip and nod as you try to resist the cold air hitting against your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Abs…it’s all for you…” you whine out to her.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters back. Two of her fingers make their way into your cunt without warning, causing you to jerk back and involuntarily close your thighs shut. However, her other hand makes her way into the middle just in time before you do so. “Nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, princess,” she says, forcing your legs back open to stand in the middle. “You’ve been so bold with me this past month, so you’re not backing out of this now.”

Her fingers successfully go into your pussy the second time around, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. Abby’s fingers were huge, to say the least, but they managed to stretch your pussy out so well. There’s no way that your pussy can’t take anything bigger than this.

But what Abby was about to pull out next was going to prove you wrong.

As Abby’s fingers continue to pump inside you, she begins to undo her jeans with her free hand, effortlessly getting them open and slightly pushing them down to her thighs. She then digs that same hand into her boxers and pulls out her black strap-on, causing your eyes to widen at the immense size. She was fucking huge.

“A-Abby…” you stammer out to her, quickly shaking your head. “That—That’s not gonna fit…It’s too—“

“Yes it will,” she says, cutting off your words. “My cock’s gonna fit. You’ll see.”

Her fingers quickly slide out of your cunt, leading you to whimper at the loss. With both of her hands now, she rubs her cock against your folds, collecting some of your wetness before sliding it into your tight hole. The stretch of the strap was a bit uncomfortable at first, but after a moment, you were shocked to see how well your pussy was easily taking it from the tip down to the base. It really was the perfect fit.

Abby smirks as she looks down at the piece of silicone that connected your bodies. “See? I told you it’ll fit,” she mutters out, bottoming out completely inside you. “This fucking pussy was made to take my cock.”

You were already starting to feel dizzy over Abby’s cock nestling inside your pussy. You were desperate for some movement.

“A-Abby…” you whine out to her, squeezing her bicep. “N-Need you t-to move…”

“What’s that, princess? You want me to move my cock?” she asks, to which you nod in response. “Need me to thrust my big cock in that desperate little pussy of yours? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do just that for you.”

And with that, she begins to slowly thrust inside you. You could practically feel it all within her movements, the girth, the veins, hell, even the tip would kiss at your cervix every time she bottomed out into you.

Abby grabs at both of your thighs, slowly starting to speed up her pace. “I think I can go a little faster now, don’t you think? Your pretty pussy’s already doing so well for me, angel…”

“Fuck, y-yes, Abby…f-faster…” you slur out as you throw your head back in pleasure, gripping both of your hands onto your desk while she continues to thrust inside of you.

One of her hands leaves your thigh and grabs at your jaw, tilting it down to face her. “Look at that now, my girl’s getting so cockdrunk for me…I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Abby’s gaze soon brings down to your chest, smirking once she notices your hard nipples poking through your shirt. She then lets go of your jaw and pulls your shirt up to your tits, watching in awe at the mere sight of them. “No bra?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be such a slut like that…It’s almost as if you were waiting for this to happen.”

At this point, your brain was losing focus, and you couldn’t figure out what Abby was saying to you right now. Once she sped up her pace again, all you could think about now was getting to your release.

Abby now has her gaze focused on the sight of your pussy, watching as it squeezes and contracts around the strap with every thrust. “Looks like you’re getting close, princess. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Y-yes, f-fuck! I-I’m getting close…” you whine back to her, leading her to thrust even faster inside of you, your moans soon getting loud enough for them to practically echo inside the whole studio.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your cunt pulsed a few more times around Abby’s strap before cumming completely with a loud moan of her name, causing a white ring to form around it.

As you began to catch your breath, Abby slowly pulled herself out of you, groaning as she saw a thick white string of your cum connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap before soon breaking. She then ran her fingers through her length, collecting all of your release before soon sticking them inside of your mouth while it was still agape.

After sucking her fingers clean, she pulls them out of your mouth and tucks her strap back into her boxers before putting her jeans back on. You watch as she briefly gets down onto her knees and brings her face into your fucked out pussy, gently licking and sucking it clean, savoring each bit of it as she did so.

Once you were all clean, Abby rose back to her feet, helping you with your underwear and with the rest of your clothes as well. Her hands then moved from the button of your pants back down to your hips, guiding you off of your desk and back on your feet. You stumble a little bit into her at the sudden movement.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, catching you in her arms.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay…just a little worn out.” you pant out to her as you gain back your composure to turn around towards your desk and gather up your things to leave.

“Well, at least let me give you a ride back to your place,” she insists, grabbing her keys off your desk. “It’s already late outside, and I don’t think it’s quite safe for you to be walking around out there at this time.”

You hesitate for a moment at first. You’d honestly hate to inconvenience Abby to give you a ride home, but given that she was the one offering, you didn’t seem to mind too much about it. In all fairness, it was already late hours in the city, and given the damage she’d done to your legs, there was no way you were going to last walking for five minutes down the street. So you end up accepting her offer.

“Yeah, sure…I’m not stopping you, honestly…” you tell her with a chuckle as you put your bag over your shoulder, ready to head out.

You then follow along beside Abby as the two of you exit the establishment and make your way to wherever her car is situated. Abby opens the passenger door to let you in first before letting herself in on the other side. She then starts up her car before merging into the city’s busy roads.

The ten-minute drive flew by surprisingly fast, and before you knew it, she was now parked in front of your apartment complex. She leans in to give you a quick kiss before soon pulling away. “So, I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asks.

You can’t help but smirk back at her, even though you were biting your lip to hide it. “I’ll see you on Friday, Anderson.” you tell her with a nod before opening the door to let yourself out.

But Abby doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, she makes sure that you get into your apartment safe and sound. Once your lights were on, that was her cue to go.

You watch from your apartment window as she drives back into the busy roads, soon disappearing from your view.

And for the first time this month, you have to admit that you’re now actually looking forward to seeing her again.

a/n: i hope you guys liked this fic!! i might make another part if this goes well?? but aside from that my next fic will be bfm!abby for those who are waiting, i promise 🤞🏼 lmk if you’d like to be tagged for when i post it!!

(also ty for 700, i love you guys 🫶🏻)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello:D

Okay but MxM: imagine there’s like a ‘peace’ treaty between humans and Yautja and some interspecies programs are set up, and a Yautja and a human who absolutely despise each other get teamed up, absolutely bully each other and then one begins to realise it’s sexual tension not hate and they just end up fucking on the job🗣️🔥

Thick As A Knife

Pairings: Celtic (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 6300 (Whoop! Ten pages)

Summary: This was all your friend's fault. Sign up for the treaty, he said. It'll be fun, he said. It's not like you would've gotten picked. Until you received a phone call one day. The only reason you don't say no was the fact of the pay. The pay.

Author Note: This... this unfortunately isn't one of my best works. I don't feel very proud of it but I can't find the energy to redo. I'm so sorry, dude, I tried my best. I hope it still works for you though! I tried to make it decent by using your favorite man's.

Masterlist

Ao3

Out of everyone that was offered as a sacrifice, er, sorry. That was placed into the program, you had been one that was chosen. One of your friends put your name into the gamble just for the fun of it alongside herself. Look at what’s happening now.

All of your stuff was pulled from your apartment and placed into a shipping container. Where it will be taken to an interspecies ship that was the first of its kind. Not only will that happen, but apparently you’re going to be placed with the species you hated. A species who was completely uncivilized. They call humans primitive but strut around half naked in fishnets. If there wasn’t a good amount of cash that’s being deposited into your account as you say, there was no way in hell you would let this happen. Not if you’re going to trapped in a space with the Yautjas.

A scoff left your lips, eyes rolling. This was unbelievable. Space travel wasn’t shiny new, but it’s not like you’ve been outside of earth’s atmosphere before. That’s when your leg began to shake, bouncing up and down in a rapid motion.

So far, there’s been no incidents. That included both the ship you’ll be residing on and with the new friendly Yautjas your government decided to friend. It was best to keep your enemies close, keep an eye on them. Yet, here they are, sticking you to a randomly picked alien as well. The two of you had one thing in common. Forced by your governments to follow their commands.

The door to the shipping unit shut before your very eyes and locked away all your possessions. Your lips pressed into a thin line.

Over on the street, a black car pulled into the parking lot. The windows completely blacked out. All you could see was your own reflection staring back at you. Then, the tinted window rolled down to reveal a woman dressed in a suit. She reminded you of the movie Men In Black with the black glasses. Once again, you couldn’t see here eyes.

She motioned towards the front see you were meant to take. With one more glance to what could be the last time you may see your apartment, you opened the door and slid in. The shipping container was left behind for someone to come pick and take to your new home. Thinking about it was making it more of a reality in your mind. Your leg began to twitch again.

All the way to the launch site, the driver kept silent. Her glasses provided the perfect barrier from seeing her eyes and getting a read on her. You wrung out your fingers while they sat in your lap the entire car ride.

About three hours had passed before she turned onto what looked to be an abandoned road. It was strictly gravel. This wasn’t what you were expecting to be the grand entrance to a new life in space. You watched as low hills passed on either side of the car. She wasn’t in much of a rush, carefully about how bumpy the backroad was.

The car came over a hill. On the other side sat a small, navy blue vessel. A vessel that resembled the ships many of the Yautjas used. Your mood soured immediately, ruined by the reminder of where you were going. Your muscles grew tense. Unsaid words entered the air and filled it with tension that the driver could feel.

When the vehicle came to halt, the process was swift. You were given a quick brief of how to act and what to do while on this ship. It practically went into one ear and out the other. Honestly, you tried to listen, tried to be a good sacrifice. But with the situation, you stopped caring. If only they were the ones going to be stuck with the brute of an alien for however long they pleased. There were no set times. Just a paycheck in the mail every two weeks you are there. A good paycheck that had you mostly compliant.

After everything was said and done, they ushered you towards this navy blue vessel. A ramp lowered down at your presence. It felt like a scene from Star Wars. The hiss of steam before a ramp revealed the inside of this ship. As a human, your curiosity was screaming at you, wanting to figure out everything that made this thing tick. You were becoming part of the first group of humans to enter space. Though, with the aid of another species. It was still a feat that wasn’t achievable in this manner until now.

They showed you up the ramp before leaving you in the middle of a small gathering room. The ship itself wasn’t massive by any means. Just a carrier ship for short travel.

Towards the front of the vessel was the cockpit. At first, you missed the figure but your eyes snapped back to him.

From limited pictures, you could still tell this was that Yautja, that unfortunate partner you’ve been paired with. They call him Celtic. It almost gave him a sort of human side to him but immediately narrowed your eyes on the figure. He was your ride? You internally scoffed and fought off the want to cross your arms. That would look bad on your part. And that paycheck was looking really, really nice.

The brute of a man stood up. Never in your life had you been around one of them before. They don’t come to earth. Not unless they hunted before the treaty. That didn’t happen much anymore, unless someone offered themselves up for the hunt. That was part of the deal the government made with the Yautjas.

And he was tall and thick. He had to be at least three times your mass. His sensor dreads weren’t extremely long. They were a dark black, signaling his young age. You were surprised his government had sent someone on the younger side to be part of the treaty. Yet, here you were as well.

A forced smile cracked at your features. It felt more like a grimace. Celtic stopped in front of you and tilted his head down, bright yellow eyes peering into your very soul. It became a staring contest, trying to find the weakness in each other. Whatever you could get to make sure you had the upper hand. He was a beast, a species that knows no mercy. You hated the fact that you had been roped into those by your friend. There was no backing out. All you could do was endure this for however long it was necessary. Get the money, get out. Simple as that.

His mandibles flickered, tongue darting out to taste the air. “You are not what I was expecting,” he speaks in a slower voice. A proper speech as if he just recently learned English. It took a lot of will not to cross your arms and drop the façade at his words. This is part of the reason you disliked this species as a whole. They were all the same. There was no difference between any of them. They all had that rude attitude. It irked you so much too.

Your hand curled into a fist at your sides. You clicked your tongue, eyes roaming from head to toe in a careless manner. “And you’re not as high skilled as I thought you would be,” your snarked and relaxed your grip. It would be best not show your emotions as much to these guys.

One thing you knew about these guys was where to hurt them. Their pride and hunting skills. Hit either of those and they will show they don’t like to be challenged. It didn’t matter what sex, both sex’s aren’t going to back down from a challenge. Especially one they know that could be won. One against a weak ooman that’s defenseless. You read up on some of their culture. To make sure you had everything in your power to survive this to the disastrous end. The people with the white wigs didn’t know a lick about what happens below their boot.

Just think of the money.

The way his eyes darkened, mandibles pulling tight over his alien mouth. Nothing needed to be said that you got under his skin. You held back a proudful smirk and kept your eyes narrowed on his towering figure.

Celtic scoffed then spun on his heel before strutting into the cockpit. You let the grin crack your façade wide open. Ah, that was lovely. You meandered after him and peered into the new space. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but it held the most important pieces to fly the craft. Despite your smug feelings, you were in awe at the incredible technology shift. You hid it before taking a seat to the left of him. The Yautja didn’t even glance in your direction.

Ah, you had really hit him where it hurt. Good. He’s probably killed one of your kind. He deserved it.

Underneath you, the ship rumbled, and the engines flared to life. It was powerful to be inside of such a thing. Your grin flickered onto your features for only a second. This wasn’t the time. You shoved it down to the pit of your stomach and gripped onto the armrests. This was your first time launching into space, leaving earths atmosphere. There was no way to stop the thundering of your heart.

Earth’s ground left the landing gear’s feet. You leaned forward in your seat to peer over the edge of console to look out the window. Once a hundred feet in the air, Celtic rapidly presses a few buttons then grabbed a lever. You had no time to react when he punched it. The force sent you flying back into the seat with a soft ‘oof’. The air in your lungs was pushed out but you quickly regained control.

He pressed forward and tilted the craft into a climb. Clouds whooshed passed the window. A sight you’ve never got to see before, even when flying. It continued to push higher and higher into the sky. Soon the day sky turned into night in a matter of a minute. Without light pollution of the cities, the stars were free to shine as brightly as they wished. You leaned forward in awe. The sight beyond anything you’d experienced before.

The craft leveled out without the fighting force of earth’s gravity to pull it down. The lack of gravity pulled at your stomach. Nausea washed over you for a few moments. Then, everything returned to normal. Your grip still clung to the armrests of the co-pilot’s chair. It would take an act of God to get you to loosen up. Fear wasn’t the contributing factor but the unknown of the whole situation made you feel unease. You’ve seen plenty of pictures and 3D models of the vessel you’ll be staying in. That’s fake over the rude awaking of the real world. It was really happening.

A moment passed when your gaze returned to the open vast space. In front of the ship, far away, was the forementioned ship. Your jaw slackened at the size. It rivaled a football field or cruise ship easily. Without any indicator, it was difficult to tell. There was nothing in space to compare it to, to see how big it really was. But it was huge.

That’s where you were going to be staying. A fact you didn’t have hit you in the fact until now. Celtic flew the ship closer to what’s called a mother ship. It’s a hub, per se. It’s where a clan would live and could maintain one as well. Similar to a tiny planet.

With practice ease, Celtic pulls the ship in the docking portion of the ship. He lands nearly perfect with only a bounce then shuts down all the engines. A new silence washes over the two of you. Celtic is up and out of his seat without a word. The lumbering form expertly spins on his heel once up and marches towards the back of the carrier vessel you were in. You jolted at the sudden abandonment and rushed after him like a stumbling fool. “What that fuck!? Wait up for me,” you yelled at him and barely made it to him when the ramp had touched the ground.

There he goes again.

Long strides take him down the ramp. You tsked to yourself and raced after his fleeing form. Clearly, he dislikes your presence. That’s makes two of you.

You ran into his back with grunt and stumbled back. Right as you were about to yell at him for that, a throat clearing stopped you in your tracks. You peered around Celtics form to find three well decorated Yautjas standing in front of him. An ‘oh shit’ moment slapped you straight in the face. Your lips pressed into a thin line.

To look like less than a fool, you calmly stepped out from behind him and stood with your shoulders squared. Four pairs of eyes were set onto your form. You recalled from the information given to you, to not stare into their eyes. It can be seen as a challenge. Something you would never, ever want to deal with. You respectfully bowed your head in their direction, understanding they are at least elders. A high rank amongst their culture. To piss them off meant a death sentence.

One of them called your name and drew your timid gaze to the trio. You are respectful to let your eyes flicker between them or towards the ground.

“We are pleased to see you’ve joined us,” the one to your left politely greets you, mandibles slowly stretching out. “This is a wonderful opportunity for both of our communities to learn from this experience.” You had to shut off your throat to stop a scoff from escaping in their faces. They learned plenty from all the times they visited.

The middle one, an earthy green tone, dips his head a centimeter. “Yes. It is a great experience for all parties. As for your stay, you aren’t obligated to stay. You are no prisoner but a guest amongst the Yautja. If an issue arises, don’t be afraid to reach out to the three of us. We want to ensure you make it off of the mother ship alive.” The joke is crude but seems a normal thing for them.

They all chuckle in a short manner. “Your quarters are different compared to normal ones onboard. You are stationed with Celtic here, as he is your partner for this. There are two separate rooms. He will be your guide throughout all of this,” the one on your right spoke up. “Your things shall arrive at the end of the cycle. We wish the best of luck towards the both of you.”

All of them glanced at Celtic for a fleeting moment before leaving you to him. Celtic watched as the elders left the docking area. The second they were out of sight, he started a fast pace in a certain direction. You were left to scamper after him all over again. You gritted your teeth and practically ran to catch up to him.

“Seriously, wait up! I’m not as tall as you,” you snapped at the still retreating frame. Your legs moved as fast as they could to catch up to him. Celtic didn’t even glance down at you and kept the same speedy pace towards a certain direction.

With the knowledge of how long it will take for your unit to make it up here, you were stuck with the clothes on your back and the phone in your pocket. Nothing else. You grumbled under your pants while forced to jog next to the strutting male. He was fast, you’ll have to give him that. Celtic walked with purpose towards an elevator. The doors opened at your approach. He entered and spun on his heel to face the entrance. His eyes didn’t even flicker in your general direction. They stared out into the open space of the docking port. You barely made it inside in time before the doors closed and sealed your fate with him.

All the way to the desired floor, Celtic was silent. The gears inside of his head were working overtime. You didn’t need to know him long to see what was happening. Not that you cared. There wasn’t a chance you would care about him. Not in a million years.

In a flash, the male was out the door and down the hall. A growl left your throat. You chased after him and slipped past other roaming Yautjas. Some gave you glares while other completely ignored you, unless you ran into them. Then, a threatening snarl would work its way to your ears. You were swift to get out of their way and flail to keep up with Celtic. He was doing this on purpose. There were no doubts about that. All you wanted was to go to the designated room and call it a night. Today’s been filled with plenty of excitement, including packing everything important to your everyday activities. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here. It was best to be prepared.

Celtic stopped in his tracks. Right at the moment you caught up to him. You bumped into his side with your shoulder. A pointed look was thrown at you. Instead of cowering like you would’ve to any other Yautja, you sneered and challenged him silently to do something. Sure, have this whole treaty situation go up in arms right off the bat. You didn’t care. There was a paycheck sitting happily in your bank account. One nice enough to keep you content for a while.

The alien paused his actions from entering the room and crowded into your space. Despite being one-third of his mass and weight, you kept up the challenge and rose on your tippy toes. His bright eyes darkened at the sight. The lower two of his mandibles twitched in thought. The upper ones were pulled tight over his mouth. Your muscles were locked, ready for whatever he decided to throw at you. You weren’t going to let him or anyone else push you around. Especially, him.

Even when he got so close his stomach pressed against your chest, you didn’t waver. Something in his eyes flickered but you held strong. Number one rule in their culture, don’t back down from a fight. Especially so quickly, it makes you look weak and pathetic. You weren’t either of those. You weren’t going to be that.

The two of you stayed like this for a long time. People passed by. Some glancing at the strange sight while other just ignored the scene as if it was normal. But, it was him who faltered.

His eyes rolled in such a human manner you did a double take. A grumble left his throat while he turned away and strolled into the room. You dumbly stood there for a few moments before rushing inside. Just before the door closed shut and sealed off your new space to the rest of the mother ship. You halted in the foyer and glanced around the areas you could see.

This wasn’t what you were expecting. Though, this was a treaty of alliance and such, you weren’t expecting just a large space.

There were at least three doors you could see from your stop in the main entrance. Everything seemed polished down to the modules and made everything perfect. You slowly meander further inside. There was a kitchen, a decent sized one. A dining room as well; as if you were going to have diner with Celtic, let alone share a meal with him.

All you could speculate about the closed doors were those were the bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also a living room as well. Plenty of space to house a party. You huffed and turned towards him.

“Have you chosen a room or…?” you trailed off in hopes of an answer from him. He blinked at you then disappeared into one of the bedrooms without a word. Anger flared to life. You wanted to wring his neck. Instead, you walked into the only other available room and sat down on the mattress. It was extremely low to the ground. By the looks of it, it almost seemed like it was sunken into the floor. Your legs were kicked out straight in front of you.

Out of everything, this wasn’t what you were expecting. From a life on a planet, you were content with the space offered to you. The people on the other hand. That wasn’t something you were fond of. In all honesty, you wanted to smack him so hard he could see straight. Yet, you refrained from violence on the first.

And the second. Then, the third. Until the days began to blur together that point.

It wasn’t hard to keep track though. Out of everything though, the only thing that was exciting or adrenaline pumping was being dragged to the front of the ship. Straight to the captains cockpit to do a video call back home. You preformed a few briefings with your agents or point of contact. Nothing besides that was entertaining.

Celtic was still pissed at you. He kept his distance far from you as much as possible. Unless the two of you are called upon to speak before the important figures of this whole operation. That’s really when you would only talk to each other and truly see one another. Any other time, he’s either out with his hunt brothers or in his room.

As the only lone human on this alien ship, you’ve cornered yourself into the room. The door was locked most of the time and kept you safe from the monsters you were surrounded by. Food was the only time you freely came out. The need to feed so you didn’t starve was a necessity. You would busy yourself during that time. Even if Celtic came in to the shared apartment, he would go straight to his space. Not a word even uttered in your general direction.

One day, the male came in. Unlike every other time he’s been here, he stopped at the island in the kitchen. Celtic bent over the island and rested on his elbows, eyes watching your every move about. You grew anxious, unsure whether he meant harm or not. Not that he ever has shown he wanted to cause you injury, but you couldn’t help this feeling deep inside of you.

After another minute goes by, you tensed up and spun around on your heel. “What in the world is your problem?!” you snapped at him and pointed the spatula in your hand at him. A brow arches. You motioned with the object in hand for him to move along. “Shoo, let me cook in peace.” He continued to stare at you. You narrowed your eyes at him and pressed your lips into a tight, thin line. Apparently, he didn’t have anything better to do at this moment. Your gaze flickered down his body, taking in the sight of the lack of clothes that adorned him. His muscular body easily on display without any remorse. Like the dumbass you are, you stared longer than you meant to.

Celtic just stayed there. A sigh left your lips. You grumbled under your breath before slowly turning back around to face the stove. It wasn’t like you could anything to make him move if he didn’t. The Yautja was three times your mass. It would be easy to figure out how well that would turn out to be without even needing to see anything occur.

The entire time, his eyes stayed on you. The hunk stood in the same spot, not even wavering. Just a predator watching… his prey. You shuttered at the thought and quickened your pace. The faster you finished the process, the faster you could get into your room. Away from him and weirdness happening right now.

Your food was nearly done. The burner was shut off. It smelled like heaven. If one thing about this time away from home has taught you something, how to truly cook. When you have nothing else to do, cooking is a great experience to have under your belt.

Large, warm hands grasped at your hips, nearly encircling your entire waist. A gasp tore from your throat. Your hands braced onto the edge of the stove when a weight pinned you in pace.

An inner instinct deep down commanded you to stay put. You gingerly peeked over your shoulder. Celtic, in all of his glory, stood there. A rumbling purr poured from his throat. A noise that had your muscles relaxing underneath him. You bowed your head and huffed. “What… what is your problem?” you grounded out.

Claws dented your shirt. “You.” The weight shifted. The stove’s edge dug into your stomach, further proving his strength against you. You gritted your teeth at the slight ache that gave you.

He bowed his spine to hover his mouth next to your head. “You’ve been my problem. This entire time. You’ve driven me insane.” The long, forked, pink tongue flickered out to taste the air. “It’s been impossible to keep my hands still every time I get a whiff of you. You’re ooman. I shouldn’t even like you. This is all for formality.”

The grip tightened. His face inched closer to the crook of your neck. “I’ve imagined plenty of times about how I should go about this. But I can’t take it. I need you, little prey.” You shuttered out a whimpered and clenched your jaw tightly. By god’s grace, you shouldn’t be entertaining this, letting him even touch you. The feel of his hands on you was amazing.

Then, you steeled your emotions. One of your elbows strikes him in the exposed side and send him stepping back away from you. A firm look graced your features when you spun around to face Celtic.

In his bent over state, he picked up his head to find your fierce gaze. You whipped out a hand. Your fingers encircled his throat. With whatever power that drove you, you pushed his form back. He was forced back until the couch caught his legs. The towering figure tipped over and landed onto the cushions you. A grin cracked your features. You climbed into his lap and straddled his large hips. Everything about him was larger than life. It would be a challenge, but you didn’t care. Not at this point.

Your hand still held tightly onto his throat. Celtic looked at your commanding form and let you take control. “Guess what, you’ve been my problem this entire time too. Being a bitch every time I do something.” You sat up higher and made him look up at you slightly. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to wring out your neck. You standing around like a weirdo, with this sculpted body.”

Bright, yellow eyes watched your every move. The Yautja was intrigued with what you were doing. Your other hand palmed at his abs to make your point to him.

A deep grumbled escaped his throat, vibrating against your palm. “And what are you going to do about it?” he challenged, a glint filling his eyes.

Instantly, your anger flared wider than a solar flare. You leaned in close enough to feel the breath of his. “I’m going to rip off your fucking pants,” you said more as a question rather than a statement. You wanted his consent, hoping not to be reading off the wrong signs of this whole situation. That would make this ten times worse than before.

One of his mandibles quirked up. “Best of luck, little prey.” Your teeth grounded against one another. He chuckled nonchalantly. You ripped your hand off his throat and used both to unbuckle his pants. It was easy to figure out how they open and tugged them down enough to expose the slick slit of his sheath.

This was something you weren’t going to admit but you did some research on their anatomy. They had a sheath compared to everything hanging out, including internal testicles. You were jealous of their anatomy and wish humans had that.

A smirk broke across your features. “What’s this I see? Mister high and mighty is aroused from a little human being dominate, isn’t that right?” you taunted the beast of an alien underneath you. Your thumb ran along the wetness of his slit and barely pressed against it.

Two hands grasped at your hips again and pulled you down to grind against his groin. You choked on a gasp and slapped your hands down on his shoulders. Celtic rutted his hips up against your clothed crotch. Immediately, your dick began to stir to life, hidden away in your pants. A bulge began to form at the stimulation.

“Does the little human think he can take charge? When I could easily pin you down and take you on the floor like some animal?” Celtic snarled and tilted your hips just enough so the side of your cock rubbed against his open pants. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a moan from escaping. Pleasure raced up the base of your spine. “Pants. Off. Now.” There was a slight hint in his voice that gave you the chance to back out.

You struggled out of your pants until they were on the floor. Your cock was erect and throbbing at the lack of attention.

The Yautja purred at the sight, hands palming at your exposed thighs. Long, black claws dragged across the skin and left behind red marks in their wake. He grasped the globes of your ass and lifted you up against his chest. You scrambled to hold onto his shoulders for purchase. The length of your cock rubbed against the muscle of his torso. Your toes curled at the feeling of pleasure again.

He used both hands to spread your cheeks wide. You were forced to lean against him for support and gazed down at him. “Now, do you want this knot inside of you or not?” You took the hint to reach down and encircled your hand around his pulsing cock. It was hot to the touch and wet from his shaft.

The pointed head poked at your exposed hole. You couldn’t stop the way you tensed at the feeling. He was large in stature and size. There was without a doubt this would hurt. But you wanted it. To teach him a lesson. Because fuck him. You were about to. You gritted your teeth then sank down.

Only the head was able to fit on the first try. Your body desperately wanted to curl in on itself when the ache hit you hard. It took all of your power not to. The beast snarled, claws digging into your malleable flesh and created dents in your skin. But, he didn’t notice nor cared. Celtic used his superior strength to force you down while also thrusting his hips up.

Skin slapping against echoed in the shared space around the two of you. A high-pitched keen left your cracked lips. You leaned back to rest your hands on his thighs and hold on. In his eyes, a dangerous looked entered them. You clenched around the intrusion inside of you. His irises darkened. His grip caused blood to trickle down your fragile skin. The pain of that was the last thing on your mind. You knew instantly by the expression he held you were in for it. Your jaw stayed tense, gritting your teeth against one another.

The slow drag of his cock out of your stretched, abused hole had you feeling more sensitive than ever before. Celtic slammed you down and kept the pace like that. You were being used as a flesh light for him. Every noise you made echoed back at you. It sounded like sin and heavenly sex at the same time. Your moans loud and needy as his entire length rubbed against your prostate, never leaving the pleasure spot alone.

Each bounce caused your cock to slap against each other’s stomach. The sensitive tip grew flush with blood. Pre leaked out and wettened both of your skins. It was dirty and needy all at the same time.

All you could do was brace on his knees and relax your muscles. Yet, when the pain finally waned, you pushed off of them and fumbled against his chest. The Yautja growled his warning. Not like you cared.

You were able to stable yourself on his torso before starting to meet each of his thrusts. He looked nearly as much as a mess as you were. “Can’t, ah, can’t handle it, Celtic?” you taunt him with an shit eating grin. Said male narrowed his gaze on you, thrusts messing up slightly. “Thought you were all, all game and whatnot? But, you truly can’t handle a human’s ass. Little bitch.”

His claws continued to draw blood freely from your skin. Celtic stopped. The only sound in the room was the combined panting from the two of you. His bright eyes were nearly a dark shade of yellow. It was scary.

“Oh, little prey. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He leaned into your personal space, panting hot air on your neck. “I have more stamina than you. You’ll be a whining, crying mess by the time I run through your ass. You won’t have anything left in your balls,” he challenged back, tongue flickering out again.

With an arm, you curl it around the back of his neck and tried to rise up higher on your knees. “I don’t think you’ll even last more than a round. You’ll be drooling by the first time you come. And, you’ll come quick. So pathetic.” His hands were so tight around your waist, it was impossible to move. Instead, you reached between the two of you and grasped at your own aching cock. You spat into your hand and started to stroke yourself in need of relief.

“Say’s the one-“ he lets you rise “-needily stroking himself in my lap.” He forces your form back down on his shaft. You screamed out and nearly pinched the base of your cock. The motion causes you to fall on to his torse, still pumping away. “See? Pathetic. Still jerking off with a cock deep inside of him. Such a needy, little ooman. Greedy little hole, needing my cock to fill it.”

The muscles on his stomach are chiseled. You pressed one side of your cock with a palm on his abs and thrusted against his toned muscles. A whined surged passed your lips. “S-shut up,” you snarked back weakly, not caring as much as before. Not with the edge growing near. “Fuck, yeah. Gonna come. I’m gon-gonna make a mess all over you. Teach yo-you a lesson.” It won’t work. You hoped it wouldn’t work.

Celtic grinned widely with his mandibles and angled his hips. Each thrust forced his length to slide against your prostate with all the strength he has. “Teach me a lesson? Sure. The lesson is how tight a ooman’s ass is. So fucking tight. I can’t wait to knot you.” You keened and quickened your thrusts. “There you go, desperate whore. Needing an alien to fuck you in the ass to get you to shut up.”

“I wish I had known that when I met you. Would’ve done it a long time ago,” he snarled, voice growing deep with each word.

At this point, you couldn’t think straight. The pleasure was rampant. It took over every sense you had. All you knew was the need to come. You came hard.

With a choked scream, head bowed down into his chest, cum spurted from the head of your dick and coated his entire torso. Each thrust only caused more to cover him. Your length throbbed hard, trying to soak Celtic. You mewled and squirmed in his hold, trying to get him to ease up. That only seemed to spur him on more. He somehow quickened his pace.

The skin on the back’s of your thighs and ass were going to be so sore tomorrow. You knew sitting down was going to be next to impossible. He held you place though, not allowing you any reprieve from his assault. “You’re going to take my cock like the good little prey you are. Fucking take it!” he snarled and grounded his hips against yours one last time.

Hot, thick spurts of cum filled you. A thick ball of flesh plugged you up, sealing every drop of Celtic’s seed inside of you. You were a limp mess on his torso, unable to even raise your head.

He collapsed against the couch with a deep, content purr that vibrated throughout his entire body. Strong, massive hands petted down your sweaty back. “Paya, I can tell it’s going to take forever for my knot to go down.” Shit, right… Yautja’s have knots. That’s why you felt fuller than normal. You groaned and rubbed your face against his similarly sweaty chest.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and stayed against him. It maybe sticky and a little gross. Yet, with his knot pressing against your prostate, you were trying not to go into overstimulation.

A chuckle left the creature’s chest. Celtic ran a hand from the base of your spine all the way to your neck. Said limb stayed there and cradled you close him. Your eyes shut, letting the dopamine fill your veins.

[kitkat13001]

⋆⟡ ݁⚡︎ ₊ . 𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 

⤷ denki kaminari x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, mutual pining, coming-of-age vibes, inspired by the song “ultimately” by khai dreams

ultimately  i don't understand a thing i try to do the best i can i know you try to do the same

denki kaminari was never the smart one. he liked to joke around a lot but the truth underneath his charming smile was that he was terrified of failure. he was afraid that people didn’t see him as anything other than the dumb but funny kid in their class. just a yellow sticky note with a joke written on it, here to be laughed at and gone with a mild breeze. 

we’re just so bound to make mistakes you could call it a disposition i apologize for all your tears i wish i could be different

you were never the fortunate one. things just didn’t work out for you the way they did for other people. you could blame it on a lot of things, but you sometimes think that it boils down to the fact that some things weren’t meant to be. maybe you were one of them. maybe you never would be. 

but i’m still growing up into the one you can call your love i don't know if i’ll ever be enough i’m throwing in my chips i guess i tend to push my luck

high school always feels like it’ll last forever but one day you’re waking up and suddenly it’s all over. and the graduation ceremony is beautiful and everyone cries and then the tears stop when yaomomo announces the party at her house and mina announces the after-party at her house. it’s so strange that after the fun dies down you all realize this is the last time that all of you will be here, under one roof, all together. and it’s sad, of course, but also some strange kind of beautiful. that you’re all going to different places and becoming different people. 

and ultimately i believe we'll be okay it’s so cliché to say these things but repetition is a key

many promises are made the night of graduation. the usuals, to keep in touch and call every day and send pictures and meet up for the occasional hero team-up. but denki’s eyes have been fixed to you the entire night, and he’s got a promise for you too. of all the people in this room, you’re the one he doesn’t want to lose the most. so when the party is over, he swallows his pride and walks over to your dorm room on your very last night at u.a., trying not to stutter and not to trip over his own feet. you welcome him like you always do, and you spend a long time laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling as though you’re stargazing. the only stars are the glow-in-the-dark stickers still attached to the ceiling, though, but they’re enough to give denki hope. 

i think i’m better when i’m with you but i worry when you're gone i think i need to learn to love myself i must learn to be strong

“america is a long way from japan, huh?”

you blink, as if you’re hearing about it for the first time. “i guess so. it didn’t really occur to me until now, i guess.”

“i don’t know how i’m gonna spend my nights without our 1 am study sessions.” denki means it as a joke but he’s entirely serious. his life is going to feel so empty, he thinks, without you in it. 

“maybe you could try sleeping,” you giggle to yourself. 

denki snorts. “nah. i think maybe i’ll still stay up, but on facetime with you. it’ll be daytime there.”

“it’s crazy. i never thought i’d end up so far.”

“you could always come work in tokyo with me,” denki suggests, a not-very-sly wink following suit. 

you laugh. “as much fun as that would be, i think it’s time for me to be somewhere new. i can learn a lot in the u.s.”

he sighs a little. “i know.” he’s silent for a second before he asks the question that’s been weighing on him ever since you announced your departure for america. “do you think you’ll come back? after your sidekick residency, i mean.”

you think on it long enough to get denki’s heart racing with panic. “i don’t know. maybe. i guess we’ll wait and see, huh?” and then you smile and denki really wishes he could feel okay. 

so, for now we'll say goodbye although it pains me in my heart your words they come to me in memories they sing to me like songs

denki cries when he walks you up to the terminal. you cry when denki cries. you sit, a puddle of tears, embracing each other in the middle of the crowded airport as onlookers swarm to get around the commotion to their flights. 

he cries for several nights after you leave, and you cry in your hotel room while you scroll through your old pictures. 

but like anything else, you get used to the absence. the silence. 

it won't be long until i’m here soon i’ll make my arrival under shady trees, a quiet street the roads that i have traveled

tokyo is as lively as you remember it, you think as you watch the busy streets and bustling people and colorful scenery from your spot sitting in the patio of a corner café. you drum your fingers on your cup anxiously. you don’t know why you’re suddenly so nervous, but the idea of seeing denki after all these years makes your heart race.

what if you look different to him? what if he can’t recognize you? what if you can’t recognize him? what if-

you whip around when you hear a familiar nickname of yours called in an even more familiar voice. 

a scream promptly erupts from a young blond man’s lips as he makes a beeline for you. 

a giant smile appears on your face and you begin to scream as well, running for him. 

“denki!”

you collide in the middle of the outdoor seating area, clinging on to each other with a surprising grip. 

denki pulls away and his grin is so wide. 

“you’re taller! and you’ve got a new hairstyle!” he exclaims, eyes roaming over you as he takes in your changed appearance. you look different, for sure, but you look like you. 

you shriek out loud, eyes landing on the metal hoops through denki’s ears. 

“you pierced your ears?!” you demand, bending his head awkwardly to better look at the decorations. 

denki laughs. “i tried to tell you!”

“i thought you were joking! and your bangs, look at you…” your hands remain steady on his cheeks and you get a good look at him, squinting dramatically. you beam at him after a minute of scrutiny. “you look good, denks.”

if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing. “thanks. you look good, too…you always look good.”

ultimately it's a beautiful thing like flowers blooming in a lonely field the petals drift through crossing winds

there’s a very brief moment as you hold him, his hands on your forearms, eyes interlocked and bated breath, where everything feels like you never left. like you’ve been here with him the whole time and there’s never been anything but you and denki kaminari forever. 

it’s that ephemeral moment of beauty that lets you lean in and kiss him, like you both should’ve done so many years ago. 

and it’s everything you ever dreamed. his lips are soft, his hands are warm, and his bangs are tickling your nose. and it’s so perfect you can’t believe it took you this long to do it. 

that find their way to river streams that scent the water beautifully it takes me back to you it takes me back to you

you laugh breathlessly when you pull away after a very long moment. denki just stares at you in awe, dopey grin plastered on his face. 

“god, we should’ve done that forever ago,” he admits, bashful and pink-cheeked. 

“yeah, probably,” you agree, slinging his arm over you shoulder as you tug him along. he moves with you like a magnet, and it feels right to have him by your side again. 

“guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“i guess we will.”

icons from pinterest, not mine ; divider by @/saradika-graphics — i actually really like how this one turned out. i wrote the premise years ago and it finally hit me tonight to finish it. denki holds a very special place in my heart.