#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.)

[helioooss]

pulling your face close, wanting the inmost

synopsis: its been three years since minjeong left y/n waiting at the altar. throughout it all, jimin comes along.

w/c: 4.5k+

warnings: angst, blood (you’re a doctor), fluff. winter x you x karina

a/n: do you think my sleepless nights will make me insane? be honest. also meant to be really short but got carried away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rattled as it sped through the early seoul morning, its harsh fluorescent lights bouncing off the windows and flickering faintly above you; hunched in the corner, staring blankly at the window; your scrubs noticeably wrinkled from the rushed way you’d thrown them on.

the person in the reflection was unrecognisable: hollow cheeks and dark circles etched like shadows beneath tired eyes — you were gaunt, tired; a reminder that the polished version of yourself, the one that used to smile, laugh and plan for a future, was long gone.

it screeched to a halt, jerking you out of whatever trance you were just in. as everyone else stood from their seats, you grabbed your bag and sighed; the weight of the day ahead pressing down on your shoulders.

your fingers tapped absently on your thigh as it slowed down, the doors automatically sliding open and you filed out with the rest of the crowd while keeping your head low.

the walk to the hospital from here wasn’t far, but you stopped at the station exit, digging a cigarette from your pocket. just one. it wasn’t a habit you were proud of, but it helped, even if only for a moment.

your hands trembled as you lit it and the first drag stung your lungs in a way that briefly drowned out everything else.

the memories clawed their way in anyway.

three years. it had been three years since minjeong walked out of your life without a word. she didn’t show up on the day that was supposed to mark your forever. no note. no call.

nothing but an empty altar and the stares of everyone you’d gathered to celebrate a love that, you’d come to realise, wasn’t as mutual as you believed.

it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

mingyu came back into the picture. you had seen the rumours floating around online weeks before the wedding, fans gushing over how they spotted him and minjeong leaving the same restaurant; smiling like they used to in the good old days.

you asked her about it once, casually, your voice steady even though your heart raced. “did you see mingyu recently?”

she’d looked at you then, her expression unreadable, and shrugged. “it was just a friendly dinner. nothing to worry about.”

and like the fool you were, you believed her.

you exhaled sharply, watching the smoke curl into the crisp morning air. the morning rush of people already blurring into nothingness.

another day. another shift. another chance to bury yourself in the monotony of work. shaking your head, you snuffed the cigarette under your heel and started walking.

asan medical center loomed ahead, its sterile walls a familiar cage. work was your only escape now. it was ironic, really — the same place where you met her, where your love story began, was now the place you buried yourself to forget her.

by the time you arrived, you instantly slipped into your usual routine: quiet, focused and distant. the staff knew you as a good doctor — reliable, efficient and calm under pressure, but they also knew you as someone impossible to get close to.

“morning y/n,” jiwoo greeted as she walked into the staff room, her tone overly chipper. she was one of the few residents who still tried to engage with you, even though your responses were always curt.

“morning,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up as you stirred a spoonful of sugar into your coffee.

“how was your day off?”

“fine,” you said shortly. “just stayed home.”

she frowned. “you should go out sometime. have fun. meet people.”

“i’m fine,” you shook your head, taking a sip of the still bitter liquid. “i love my dog’s company.”

she hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but eventually gave up as her shoulders slouched. “let me know if you ever want to hang out sometime, yeah? perhaps, you can even bring rome around.”

you nodded, not really hearing her. the truth was, you didn’t want to talk. not to her, not to anyone. talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking another heartbreak. you couldn’t do it again.

three years ago, you would’ve been a different person — someone who laughed easily, loved deeply and believed in forever.

today, you were someone who stood in front of a room full of people, trying to find an explanation through tears because the woman you loved had run away. the embarrassment of that day still clung to you, a weight you couldn’t shake. there was nothing you could do except apologise to everyone — your parents, her parents, the guests.

but mostly, you apologised to yourself, for believing that you were enough for her.

it hit you the hardest that night, when you were alone in your flat, still dressed in your wedding suit that had taken you weeks to pick out.

the silence was deafening then, and for the first time, you realised she never loved you the way you loved her.

you didn’t hate her. you wanted to — god, you wanted to hate her. but you couldn’t. she was still the same woman who once made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drag you out of the rain just to kiss; the person who knew you the most.

she was still the love of your life.

and that was the cruelest part of it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day was dragging in the way only hospital shifts could. fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, clinging to your scrubs. your shoulders were tight, weighed down by exhaustion and the kind of hollow loneliness you’ve since stopped trying to fight.

you were scanning through patient charts at the nurses’ station when you heard her voice — bright and teasing, cutting like sunlight through thick curtains.

“there she is,” she called out as she strode towards you, a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of iced coffee in the other.

you groaned inwardly; not another one.

jimin was the last person you wanted to see. her presence was like a splash of colour in a grey world, drawing the attention of everyone around her.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone more clipped than you intended.

she ignored the edge in your voice, plopping the bag onto the desk in front of you. “bringing you lunch, obviously. you’ve been skipping meals, haven’t you?”

“i’m fine,” you replied, already turning back to the chart in your hands.

“you’re always ‘fine,’” she said, rolling her eyes. “and yet you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“what do you want from me?” you groaned, exhaling heavily as you closed the charts and began your stride towards the staff room.

it was easier to deal with her alone than be surrounded by people gossiping: what is minjeong’s best friend doing with her ex-fiancée?

“checking on you, obviously,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “also, you skipped lunch again. so…” she quickened her pace behind you. “rina brought reinforcements.”

you sighed, glancing at her briefly. her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she was dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans.

for someone constantly in the public eye, she had a way of blending in when she wanted to.

“i didn’t ask for reinforcements,” you muttered, opening the door for her. “and i don’t need checking on daily.”

“clearly,” she replied, sarcasm lacing her tone as she looked up at you. “because you’re the picture of health and happiness.”

you shook your head. “you’re so…ugh, just something else.”

she opened the bag on the table, the smell immediately greeting your starved senses. “that’s why i brought food because if i left it up to you, you’d just keep surviving on coffee and whatever snacks you find lying around.”

you didn’t answer. you knew she meant well. jimin was one of the few people who hadn’t given up on you, even after you’d pushed her away countless times.

she started visiting you a year after the wedding-that-wasn’t, showing up with coffee, proper meals or just her company. you didn’t know why she bothered and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“it’s your favourite,” she added, sliding the box towards you. “spicy pork and rice. come on, don’t make me waste a good meal.”

the smell of the food wafted up to you as you hesitated. it had been hours since you’d eaten and your stomach growled in betrayal. reluctantly, you grabbed the chopsticks and opened the container.

“there we go,” she said with a grin, settling into the chair across from you as she opened her own container; tonkatsu.

“you’re persistent,” you told her, taking a bite.

“someone has to be,” she replied, her voice softer now.

for a while, the only sound between you was the quiet clink of chopsticks against the container as you both ate in solitude. but jimin wasn’t the kind of person to let silence linger for long.

“how long are you planning to keep this up?” she asked suddenly as she threw her container into the bag, breaking the silence.

“keep what up?” you replied without looking at her, focusing instead on stabbing at a piece of pork with your chopsticks.

“this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at you. “the whole ‘lone wolf who doesn’t need anyone’ thing. it’s getting old.”

you sighed, not bothering to look up. “why do you care?”

“because i do,” she said simply, her tone infuriatingly casual.

you rolled your eyes, setting your chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary. “rina, we barely know each other these days. why do you bother to check in on me almost everyday?”

“i don’t know,” her grin faded, replaced by something more serious. “you were minjeong’s everything. and, for what it’s worth, she was my best friend. so maybe i care because i know what it’s like to be left behind by her too. or maybe, i simply just care about you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected. you looked up at her for the first time, caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice.

“she left you too,” you said quietly, more a statement than a question.

she nodded, leaning back in her chair. “she was my anchor, you know? and then, one day, she was just…gone. no explanation, no goodbye. sound familiar?”

you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing sharper. “yeah, it does.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken grief and the strange sense of kinship that came with it.

after awhile, jimin cleared her throat, the light teasing tone slipping back into her voice as she watched you clean up. “so,” she began, “how’s rome? still the world’s most dramatic sausage dog?”

your chopsticks paused mid-air. rome. yours and minjeong’s dachshund. or just your sausage dog now, since she’d left. he’d been one of the few things that kept you going after she disappeared, a small source of comfort in a world that felt unbearably empty.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “he’s fine,” you said cautiously, not quite ready to let your guard down.

she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “just ‘fine’? come on, y/n. give me something.”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “he’s good. healthy. still hates the postman.”

“classic rome,” she said, laughing softly. “does he still steal your socks?”

“every chance he gets,” you admitted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “he buried one of my favourite pairs in the garden last week. i didn’t even know he could dig that deep.”

“a true criminal mastermind,” she laughed. “i miss him.”

you tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “i don’t think he hasn’t forgotten you.”

her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. “good, i’d like to bother him sometime.”

you nodded, not pushing further. the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried the weight of everything unsaid.

“i have to go back to work soon,” you muttered slowly. “thanks for bringing me lunch, again.”

she leaned forward once more, resting her elbows on the table. “you know, you’re a lot nicer when you talk about rome.”

“am i?” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” she chuckled, grinning. “maybe you should bring him to work. he could be a therapy dog or something.”

“not sure the hospital would appreciate that,” you replied, shaking your head.

“probably not,” she agreed. “you talk about him more than you talk about yourself.”

“what’s there to talk about?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“a lot,” she said simply. “but you won’t let anyone in long enough to find out.”

“maybe because there’s nothing worth finding out,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended.

she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. “i don’t really believe that. i know you.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat because a small part of you, buried beneath the layers of grief and anger and self-imposed isolation, wanted to believe she was right.

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “come here. check on me. it’s…unnecessary.”

“it’s not about necessity — it’s about wanting to. and i want to, y/n. because whether you believe it or not, you matter to me,” then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, “you know what you should do? come to dinner with us tonight. aeri is hosting dinner at her place. yizhuo will be there too and they’d love to see you.”

“i don’t know…i’m not really built for —“

“they miss you,” she cut you off gently. “we all do. you don’t have to stay long. just come, have some food, catch up. it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

you frowned, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your lunch container. “i’m not great at…socialising these days.”

“that’s fine,” she reassured, her voice soft. “just come as you are. no one’s expecting anything from you.”

you hesitated, torn between the comfort of your solitude and the faint pull of connection her words stirred in you. “i’ll think about it,” you said finally, though the words felt like an excuse.

for a moment, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to let her in, to let someone care about you again. but the fear of losing her — of losing anyone — was too much.

“don’t just think about it,” she said, standing up and grabbing her things. “you’re coming. i’ll pick you up after your shift. and don’t even think about bailing.”

“rina —”

“i mean it, y/n,” she cut you off with a grin that somehow felt more like a challenge. “we’ll eat at aeri’s. it’ll be fun. you might even smile. who knows?”

you shook your head, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips as you watched her walk away. she paused at the door, turning back to look at you.

“and bring pictures of rome,” she added. “aeri and yizhuo will want to see how much of a menace he’s become.”

you didn’t respond, but you nodded, the warmth of her persistence lingering even after she was gone. as you returned to your rounds, you caught yourself thinking about her smile, her persistence, her refusal to give up on you.

you hated how it made you feel. hated the tiny flicker of warmth it sparked in a heart you had sworn to keep cold.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the shift had been surprisingly uneventful. for once, you weren’t racing from one emergency to the next and the patients you saw were mostly routine cases; check-ups, minor injuries, nothing life-threatening. as the hours dragged on, you found yourself in a slightly better mood than usual, a rare occurrence these days.

the thought of dinner at aeri’s later still felt strange, but not as daunting as it had earlier. perhaps it was the conversation with jimin, or maybe you were just too tired to keep holding up the walls you’d built around yourself.

jiwoo, ever persistent in her cheerful attempts to connect with you, caught up with you as you clocked out. “you seemed a bit more relaxed today,” she said, her tone light but teasing. “you’re not scaring off the patients as much.”

you smirked faintly, shaking your head. “glad to know i’m improving.”

as the two of you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. you pulled out your nearly empty cigarette box, shaking one out with practised ease. the box crinkled, reminding you that you’d bought it only yesterday. you lit up, the flame from your lighter flickering briefly before catching.

she wrinkled her nose. “you really should quit, you know.”

“yeah, yeah,” you muttered, exhaling smoke into the air. “everyone’s a critic.”

she folded her arms, watching you for a moment before changing the subject. “so…karina from aespa really just brings you lunch sometimes? i feel like you’re pulling my leg.”

you chuckled softly, the sound surprising both of you. “it’s true. we know each other from my…better days.”

she tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face. “what does that mean?”

you hesitated, taking another drag from your cigarette. “we were friends. through minjeong.”

her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t press further. she’d been around long enough to know your ex was a subject best avoided. instead, she smiled softly. “must be nice to have someone like that still looking out for you.”

“it is,” you admitted quietly, unintentionally exhaling curls of smoke towards her direction. “sorry.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. “it’s okay — and you seem really bright around her, you know? i think she brings out the best in you.”

you hummed, nodding as you stubbed the cigarette under your shoe. “she’s just a friend; nothing more.”

minjeong and jimin. two names you hadn’t expected to be tied together so tightly in your mind. yet, lately, it was impossible not to think of one without the other.

minjeong had been everything to you once. she was the love you thought would last forever, the one you trusted with all of yourself. and even though she had shattered you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. there was a part of you that would always respect what you shared, even if it ended so painfully.

and then there was jimin. minjeong’s best friend. the one who had been there long before you entered the picture. the one who probably knew minjeong better than anyone else.

it felt…strange, wrong even, to start seeing jimin in a way that might be more than friendship. you respected her too much — her persistence, her kindness, the way she stayed by your side when no one else could reach you. she wasn’t just some comforting presence in your life; she was someone you admired deeply.

before jiwoo could say anything else, a sleek black car pulled up to the kerb. jimin leaned out of the driver’s side window, her signature grin lighting up her face. “well, well. look who’s socialising.”

her jaw practically dropped. “oh my god, it really is her.”

jimin waved casually. “hey, jiwoo, right? need a lift? there’s plenty of room.”

jiwoo blushed furiously, waving her hands. “oh, no, no. my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up. but thanks.”

“suit yourself,” she said, winking playfully before turning her attention to you. “you ready?”

you nodded, giving jiwoo a small wave before slipping into the passenger seat. the car smelled like leather and a faint hint of vanilla, a stark contrast to the cigarette smoke still clinging to your scrubs.

“you reek of cigarettes, you know,” she pointed out as she pulled out onto the road, her tone more teasing than scolding. “how many have you had today?”

you shrugged, leaning your head against the window. “i don’t count.”

“you should. your lungs aren’t invincible, doctor,” she quipped, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you smirked faintly. “and you’re suddenly a health expert?”

“no,” she admitted, grinning. “but i care about you not hacking up a lung in ten years.”

the corners of your mouth twitched, the warmth of her concern nudging at the edges of your guarded heart. you changed the subject, gesturing at the car’s pristine interior. “nice car.”

“of course it’s nice,” she replied, flashing a proud smile. “you think i’d settle for anything less?”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head. “why do you think i catch the train, then?”

she glanced at you, curious. “i always wondered about that. you can afford a car. why put yourself through that misery?”

you hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “because…i don’t know. it makes me feel better. seeing a million other miserable people in the train. reminds me i’m not the only one stuck in this mess.”

jimin didn’t respond immediately, her grip on the wheel tightening slightly. when she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “you’re not as miserable as you think, y/n.”

you huffed a small laugh, not entirely believing her but appreciating the sentiment. “sure.”

the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, just reflective. it was jimin who broke it. “do you need to stop anywhere before we head to aeri’s?”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding. “can we stop at my apartment? i need to feed rome and shower. i smell like the hospital.”

“of course,” she said, her tone brightening. “you know, i don’t mind. i’m just happy to hear more than two words out of you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the faint smile tugging at your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she turned the car towards your apartment.

the rest of the ride to your place was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. you found yourself glancing at her more than you intended, the soft light highlighting the gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell just so around her face. she was undeniably beautiful.

it wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before —jimin had always been striking, but sitting this close to her, the air between you filled with the faint scent of her perfume, it felt different.

more intimate.

your gaze lingered on her profile, tracing the slope of her nose, the soft pink of her lips, the way her expression relaxed whenever the traffic eased. the thought crept into your mind unbidden, catching you off guard: she’s really beautiful.

the streets blurred past, but your mind was elsewhere, swirling with a mixture of confusion and guilt. it felt wrong to think about her like that when she was minjeong’s best friend.

it was complicated enough having her in your life so prominently now. you couldn’t add feelings to the mix.

“what’s wrong?” jimin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

you turned to see her glancing at you briefly before returning her focus to the road. her question made your heart race slightly and you felt heat creeping up your neck.

“nothing,” you said quickly, your voice betraying your awkwardness.

she smirked, clearly unconvinced. “you’ve been quiet. and you keep looking at me. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you swallowed hard, your palms suddenly feeling clammy. you debated brushing it off, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “you…you just look nice today, that’s all.”

the silence that followed was deafening. her grip on the steering wheel faltered slightly and her cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips parting as if she was going to say something, but she quickly pressed them together, biting back a grin.

“shut up,” she said finally, her voice quieter than usual, but the blush on her face betrayed her.

you felt your own cheeks burn, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you were in the small car.

“i was just saying,” you mumbled, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“yeah, well, don’t,” she shot back, though her tone was more playful than serious.

the tension between you was palpable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was something else entirely, something neither of you was ready to name.

the car rolled to a stop just outside your apartment building, its headlights briefly illuminating the cracked pavement. you unbuckled your seatbelt, glancing up at the familiar, worn façade of the place you’d called home for years. it looked the same, but somehow it always felt emptier every time you came back.

“hey,” jimin began, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “can i please see rome? just for a minute. aeri and yizhuo will be so jealous.”

you frowned, your hand pausing on the door handle. “my apartment’s a mess. i haven’t had anyone over in a long time.”

“i don’t care,” she said easily, her grin unfaltering. “you should see the state of mine. you’d think i was filming a disaster documentary.”

you sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “fine. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

she flashed a triumphant smile. “deal.”

in the elevator, you found yourself uncharacteristically aware of her presence. it wasn’t just that she was your ex-fiancée’s ex-best friend — it was the fact that, even after everything, jimin was still here, still trying to pull you out of the dark pit you had thrown yourself into.

you shifted awkwardly, your hand trembling slightly at your side. the metal walls of the elevator seemed to amplify your unease. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed your hand. her grip was steady, grounding, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hold on.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t respond, but her touch was enough to steady you.

as soon as you unlocked the door, the sound of tiny paws skittering across the hardwood floor filled the air. rome came bounding towards you, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might fall off.

“romie,” you said, your voice softening for the first time all day. you crouched down to pet him, his fur warm and familiar against your hand.

jimin let out an audible gasp. “oh my god. he’s even cuter than i remember.” she immediately dropped her bag and scooped him up, cradling him like a baby. “hi, buddy. remember me?”

he licked her face enthusiastically, his little legs wriggling in her arms. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even as you stood up and rubbed the back of your neck.

“make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment. “i’m going to get ready.”

she nodded, her attention fully on rome. “take your time. we’re going to have a bonding moment.”

as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water began to echo faintly, muffled by the door you’d closed behind you. she sat on the edge of your sofa with rome, her eyes wandering around your apartment.

the place was cleaner than she expected — it wasn’t messy, but it felt bare. the walls were stripped of personality and there wasn’t a single photo or decoration to suggest that anyone else had once shared this space with you. it was a stark contrast to the way she remembered it years ago, when minjeong had still been part of your life.

now, it was as if you had erased every trace of her.

her gaze drifted to the kitchen counter, where an open bottle of whiskey sat next to a half-empty glass. there were other bottles too, some empty, others half-finished, lined up neatly on the sideboard. her chest tightened at the sight, and she had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

all she wanted to do was love you. all of you. the person you were now, the person you had been before, even the parts that you were trying to bury under layers of pain and grief.

jimin leaned back against the sofa, letting out a soft sigh as her thoughts turned inward. it should feel wrong, this pull she felt toward you. you were minjeong’s ex-fiancée. she had been your everything once. she had seen it firsthand — the way the two of you fit together, the quiet understanding in your shared glances; your love seemed unshakable.

and yet, here she was, sitting in your apartment, waiting for you while you showered, her heart heavy with feelings she couldn’t push away.

she didn’t know when it had started. this shift in how she saw you. maybe it was that day at the hospital, months ago. she’d been visiting aeri and yizhuo and wanted to bring you lunch when she passed by the paediatrics ward and caught sight of you comforting a young boy.

he had been crying, terrified of getting his vaccinations and you’d knelt down to his level, your voice soft and reassuring.

“it’s okay,” you reassured in a gentle tone, holding out your hand for him to squeeze. “you’re so brave. and once it’s over, you’ll get a cool sticker. how about that?”

the boy had stopped crying long enough to nod and you smiled at him — wide, genuine and full of warmth. it had been the first time she had seen you smile like that in years.

all it took was that one moment.

she had tried to suppress her feelings after that. tried to remind herself of the boundaries she needed to keep but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

she had gone on dates, tried seeing other people, hoping it would dull the ache but none of them made her feel the way you did.

no one else mattered. it was maddening as it was terrifying, but it was also undeniable.

jimin ran a hand through her hair, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck as she let out another sigh. aeri and yizhuo didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with how she felt.

“i don’t really see the problem,” aeri had said bluntly one night over dinner, shrugging as she picked her rice. “minjeong packed up and left her old life behind. what’s the problem?”

“you’re not stealing anyone’s woman,” yizhuo chimed in with a smirk, earning a glare from jimin.

“it’s not that simple,” jimin argued, though their words had lingered.

now, sitting here in your apartment, surrounded by the quiet evidence of your pain, she felt the full weight of her feelings.

she wasn’t just drawn to you — she was in love with you. completely, overwhelmingly in love.

the water shut off and the apartment grew silent. she straightened slightly, her heart pounding as she heard you moving around in the bathroom. she didn’t know if she could ever say it out loud, but in this moment, she didn’t need to.

“he likes you,” you said as you stepped out, nodding towards rome, who was now curled up in her lap, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

“what’s not to like?” she replied, scratching behind his ears. “he’s a smart dog. clearly knows quality people when he sees them.”

“right, of course,” you gave a faint smile, leaning against the doorframe. “ready to go?”

“yeah,” she said, reluctantly setting rome down. she grabbed her bag and followed you to the door, glancing back once at the apartment before stepping out.

as you rode down in the elevator, the silence between you was comfortable this time. she didn’t say anything about the empty walls or the whiskey.

…this shouldn’t be happening.

when the doors slid open to the ground floor, jimin spun her keys around her finger, her expression bright with mischief. she tossed them towards you without warning, the metal jingling as they flew through the air.

“you’re driving,” she declared, slipping into the passenger seat before you could argue.

you caught the keys instinctively, furrowing your brow. “why?”

“because,” she said, already buckling her seatbelt, “i want to test your driving skills. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

you gave her an unimpressed look, holding the keys loosely in your hand. “you just want to be a passenger princess.”

she gasped theatrically, clutching at her chest like you just insulted her deepest values. “how dare you. i am not a passenger princess.”

“sure,” you said, shaking your head as you got into the driver’s seat. “whatever you say.”

jimin smirked, leaning back into the seat with a smug expression. “prove me wrong then. show me you can still handle a car like the pro you are.”

you rolled your eyes but started the car anyway, the familiar hum of the engine filling the space between you. as you adjusted the mirrors and pulled out onto the street, you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips.

for the first time in a while, the banter felt easy, even enjoyable.

but then, without thinking, the words slipped out.

“minjeong used to do that,” you muttered softly, almost to yourself. “she would always make me drive so she could either pick the music or nap.”

the air in the car shifted instantly, the lightness replaced by something heavier. you stiffened, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you realised what you said. your eyes stayed firmly on the road, the silence between you now deafening.

she didn’t speak right away and for a moment, you wished the earth would just swallow you whole.

then, she broke the silence, her voice softer, more careful. “you know…it’s okay to talk about her, i don’t mind.”

you blinked, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “is it?” you said flatly, though there was no anger in your tone, just weariness.

“yeah,” she replied turning slightly to face you. “it’s okay to acknowledge that she existed. that you loved her even though she hurt you, pretending she didn’t matter isn’t going to help you move on.”

you swallowed hard, throat tightening. the logical part of you knew she was right, but the emotional part; the one that still felt raw and exposed whenever minjeong’s name came up wasn’t ready to admit it.

so you said nothing, the silence stretching uncomfortably again.

after a minute of beating around the bush, jimin sighed softly, her voice tinged with regret. “sorry. i didn’t mean to push. i just —”

“it’s fine,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with the quiet sincerity in your voice. you glanced at her briefly, a small, genuine smile crossing your face. “really.”

she relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping as the tension eased. “okay,” she said, her own smile returning, though it was softer this time.

as you drove, jimin’s own thoughts began to spiral. hearing you talk about minjeong felt like a punch to the gut, but she couldn’t blame you. she was your first love, the one who had taken up all the space in your heart before it was broken.

how could she even try to compete with that?

she knew there was a part of you that might never stop loving minjeong, no matter how much time passed.

she glanced at you again, catching the way your shoulders had relaxed slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

it doesn’t matter how long it takes, she thought to herself. i’ll wait. for as long as it takes, i’ll wait for her.

when you pulled up to aeri’s apartment building, jimin hopped out of the car, clearly energised. she waited for you to join her, rocking on her heels as you locked the car behind you.

“ready for the chaos?” she asked, flashing a grin.

“as ready as i’ll ever be,” you muttered, following her into the lift as you took the luxurious sight in. “god, she’s expensive as ever, isn’t she?”

she chuckled, tapping your arm lightly. “don’t say anything about it or else you’re going to start a fight.”

the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hum, the quiet clink of the mechanisms filling the small space. you stood beside her, your hand clutching the strap of your bag as your stomach twisted with nerves.

it had been years since you had last been to aeri’s apartment, and now, as the numbers on the elevator panel lit up one by one, the memories began flooding back.

everything felt heavier in your chest — the last time you were here, everything was different. you hadn’t seen those girls properly in so long and the thought of walking into a space that had once felt so familiar left you uneasy.

jimin, standing close to you, noticed the slight tremour in your hand. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed it once more, her fingers warm and firm against yours.

“you’re okay,” she said softly, her voice steady. “it’s just aeri and yizhuo. they’re gonna be so happy to see you.”

you nodded but didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the way her hand steadied your own. as the elevator neared the top floor, she started to pull away, her fingers slipping from yours.

but you held on, tightening your grip instinctively. “can you —” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “just for a bit longer.”

she didn’t say anything, but her fingers curled back around yours, holding on tightly. the two of you stood like that in silence, the elevator’s hum filling the space; it felt like the calm before a storm you weren’t sure you could weather alone.

the elevator dinged and you stepped into the hallway with jimin by your side. your hand was still holding hers from earlier, though you hadn’t realised it until she glanced down briefly, her fingers tightening just a little before she let go.

“sorry,” you awkwardly mumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“don’t be.”

the warmth lingered even as you adjusted the strap of your bag and followed her toward aeri’s door; it opened before you could even knock.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice was the first thing you heard, loud and filled with surprise and excitement. “no way, it’s really you!”

you barely had time to blink before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around your neck and dragging you into a tight hug. before you could respond, a second body crashed into you from the side — yizhuo, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

“oh my gosh, she’s actually here,” yizhuo said, her grin wide as she squeezed you tightly. “rina, what the hell did you do to her? hypnosis? bribery? a chloroform rag?”

“definitely drugged her bubble tea,” aeri chimed in, her face still buried in your shoulder. “there’s no way y/n came here willingly.”

“guys, get off me!” you laughed, trying to push them away, but your voice lacked any real force. their energy was infectious, and though part of you wanted to retreat, a bigger part…one you hadn’t felt in years just wanted to stay in this moment.

“nope,” yizhuo groaned, holding on even tighter. “you don’t get to vanish for two years and show up out of nowhere like nothing happened. you’re gonna deal with this. this being us smothering you with love.”

“you should be grateful,” aeri added with a smirk, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. “this is premium-grade affection. we don’t just give this to anyone.”

jimin stood to the side, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i didn’t drug her, by the way,” she said casually, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “she came because she missed you guys. obviously.”

“liar,” yizhuo shot back, narrowing her eyes. “there’s no way y/n came willingly. what’s your secret, jimin? blackmail? compromising photos?”

“it was the bubble tea,” jimin said, straight-faced. “i spiked it with nostalgia.”

“sounds like you put something stronger than nostalgia in there,” aeri quipped, her grin widening.

you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “you guys are ridiculous.”

“you missed us,” yizhuo said smugly, finally releasing you from her grip. “admit it.”

“maybe,” you muttered, smoothing down your shirt. “a little.”

aeri gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “a little? i’m hurt. offended, even.”

jimin stepped forward, pulling out her phone. “hold still,” she said, her grin mischievous. “this is a historic moment.”

“don’t you dare,” you warned, your voice rising in mock panic as she aimed the camera at the three of you.

the flash went off before you could stop her, capturing a candid shot of aeri still clinging to your side, yizhuo laughing uncontrollably and you mid-protest with a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“perfect,” jimin said, already typing away as she uploaded the photo to her story. “caption: my three idiots.”

“three?” aeri asked, raising an eyebrow. “don’t you mean two idiots and one innocent victim?”

“you’re definitely the biggest idiot here,” yizhuo smirked at her. “but it’s okay. we still love you.”

“barely,” jimin quipped, her tone teasing as she slid her phone back into her pocket.

the apartment buzzed with laughter and conversation as the four of you settled in for dinner. the table was covered in food — aeri’s version of cooking: ramen, pizza boxes, bowls of chips and a bottle of wine that she had insisted on opening way before dinner.

“so,” aeri began, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “doctor, what have you been up to? saving lives? breaking hearts? fighting crime?”

“you act like i’ve been doing something exciting,” you shook your head as you picked at your pizza. “it’s just been work. and more work.”

“classic y/n,” yizhuo threw her hands up dramatically. “always married to the job.”

“it’s a demanding spouse,” you joked, surprising yourself at how easily the humour came.

“does it at least make you breakfast in bed?” aeri teased, wagging her eyebrows.

“nope,” you replied, smirking. “just gives me migraines.”

“sounds toxic,” jimin said, her voice light. “you should break up with it.”

“and do what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “become a full-time boba taster?”

“not a bad idea,” yizhuo chimed in, taking another bite of her slice. “you’d have jimin’s full support.”

aeri shrugged. “or you could just be her housewife. she’s a millionaire, you know?”

you dared to steal a glance, expecting jimin to brush off their teasing, but instead, she was looking right at you. her gaze was steady, her lips tugged into the faintest smile.

the way she looked at you sent your heart racing and you quickly looked away, focusing on the slice of pizza in your hand as if it held all the answers in the universe.

as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, your initial nervousness melting away under the warmth of their banter. but then your eyes wandered to the wall across the room, where a cluster of framed photos hung.

they were all of aespa — smiling, performing, and posing together in various moments that captured their bond. your gaze caught one in particular: minjeong standing between aeri and yizhuo, her face frozen in time among her friends.

the memories threatened to creep in, but before they could overwhelm you, you felt jimin’s gaze on you. you glanced over and she was already smiling softly, her expression reassuring. it was enough to steady you, to remind you that it was okay to feel what you felt.

“we haven’t done much since minjeong left,” aeri’s voice cut through the comfortable buzz of the room.

“yeah,” yizhuo added, swirling her wine glass. “we’ve released a few singles here and there, but it’s not the same. we’re not really aespa without her.”

jimin nodded, her expression thoughtful. “it’s been different,” she admitted. “but we’re figuring it out.”

“figuring it out,” yizhuo repeated, snorting. “aka, doing nothing but lazing around and ordering takeout.”

aeri grinned. “we’ve perfected the art of slacking, we should win awards for it.”

their banter was light and the laughter genuine. it pulled you back into the moment. for the first time in what felt like forever, you found yourself laughing along with them — really laughing.

as the night wore on, the chaos around the table began to settle into a comfortable rhythm. the laughter quieted and the conversation took on a more relaxed, intimate tone. the pizza boxes were mostly empty and aeri poured another glass of wine for herself and yizhuo, both of them visibly enjoying the rare moment of everyone being together.

with your bag slung over your shoulder, jimin stood by the door while aeri and yizhuo hugged you tightly.

“you know,” aeri began, leaning back. “it’s really nice to have you here, y/n. we’ve missed you.”

“like, really missed you,” yizhuo said, her tone serious for once. “i mean, i know life’s been…a lot. but you don’t have to disappear on us, you know? we’re always here for you.”

the words hung in the air, their sincerity hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at the table for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your glass.

“i know,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “and i’m sorry. for shutting you guys out. it wasn’t fair. i was more embarrassed —“

“it’s not about fair,” aeri interjected gently, setting her glass down. “we just don’t want to lose you again. you’re important to us, y/n. even if you’ve got your walls up, we’ll keep knocking.”

“and by knocking, she means barging in,” yizhuo added with a grin, earning a laugh from both you and jimin.

“i mean it, though,” she continued, her tone earnest. “we’re here for you. anytime.”

jimin glanced at you, her eyes soft, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t need to — the look she gave you was enough.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “thanks, i…i missed you guys too. i’ll see you guys next weekend?”

“of course,” yizhuo smiled, kissing your cheek goodbye. “rome better be prepared for aeri’s annoying ass.”

aeri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “stop talking, ning, y/n has to go!”

“yeah, right, forgot you guys were unemployed,” you rubbed the back of your head with a laugh as you turned and began to walk with jimin. “see you both soon.”

the walk back to jimin’s car was quiet, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the apartment. you shoved your hands into your pockets, your footsteps echoing lightly on the pavement. she walked beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush against yours occasionally.

“you okay?” she asked after a moment, glancing at you.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, i had a good time.”

“good,” she said simply, her own smile soft and genuine.

you hesitated, your gaze fixed on the ground as you spoke. “i didn’t realise how much i missed them. being with them…it felt normal. like…like things weren’t so heavy for a while.”

she nodded, her pace slowing slightly. “that’s the thing about aeri and yizhuo. they’re chaotic as fuck, but they have this way of making you forget about the rest of the world.”

“they do,” you agreed, your smile widening just a fraction. “i think i needed that.”

she stopped walking and turned to face you, her hands slipping into her coat pockets. “you don’t have to wait two years to do it again, you know. they meant it when they said they’re here for you. and so did i.”

you met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i know. and…thanks, rina. for everything.”

she shrugged lightly, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “you don’t have to thank me. i just want you to be okay.”

“i think…i’m getting there,” you admitted, your voice soft. “slowly.”

she smiled, her expression a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite name. “that’s all that matters.”

as the two of you reached the car, you hesitated again, the words forming on your lips before you could stop them. “jimin?”

“yeah?” she asked, pausing as she unlocked the doors.

you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “thank you. for not giving up on me. and…for reminding me that it’s okay to let people in.”

her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze your arm briefly. “i never would. i’m just glad you’re here.”

you nodded, climbing into the passenger seat as she started the car. as she drove, the hum of the engine and the faint city lights passing by felt less daunting than they usually did. for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. and perhaps, you didn’t have to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rocked gently as it made its way through seoul’s early morning haze. you sat in your usual spot by the window, absently watching the buildings blur together. for once, you didn’t look like you had just rolled out of bed and barely made it to the station; your scrubs were tidy, hair tied back neatly and there was even a faint sheen of moisturiser on your face — a small but deliberate effort to feel a little more presentable.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. after that dinner with the remaining members of aespa, you found yourself thinking…about how much you had isolated yourself and how it might not be the worst thing in the world to try again.

to exist around people who cared.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. you hesitated before pulling it out, already knowing who it would be.

-

from: jimin - aespa

do you still like purple taro bubble tea or has your taste in drinks gotten worse too?

sent 7:50 AM

-

you sighed, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips despite yourself. she had a way of making her presence known, whether you wanted it or not. since dinner at aeri’s, she had been texting you more often, showing up at the hospital and generally refusing to let you retreat back into your solitude.

you stared at the message for a long moment, the smile fading as doubt crept in.

why was she doing this? why did she care? she was an idol, a successful one at that, with a million other things she could be doing.

the thought made your chest tighten. you typed a response, your fingers moving quickly.

to: jimin - aespa

yes, but you should do better things with your time than hanging out at the hospital with me.

sent 7:51 AM

you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being too harsh, but the thought of her spending so much effort on you — it felt undeserved. and it scared you. you hit send and immediately turned your phone off, tucking it back into your pocket.

the train ride passed in a blur, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels luring you into a daze. when you stepped off at your station, the morning chill greeted you, sharp against your skin. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, your hand instinctively reaching into your pocket for your cigarette box. the box was light — too light — but you fished out a cigarette and lit it, the flame flickering in the breeze.

you took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. it didn’t help much, never did, but it gave you something to do, something to focus on. your thoughts, as they often did, drifted to minjeong. her face, her voice, the way she used to call you at the hospital just to complain about how exhausting her day was.

but lately, your thoughts had started to wander elsewhere, too. to jimin. her relentless persistence, her easy smiles and just the way she had managed to slip into your life without you even realising. you hated how much space she was starting to take up in your head.

it felt…complicated. and you didn’t do complicated anymore.

as you walked, cigarette still in hand, your gaze caught on a small coffee shop just opening for the morning. the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out, the barista flipping the “open” sign to face the street. you stopped in your tracks, hesitating before stepping inside.

the shop was warm, the faint whir of an espresso machine filling the air. you approached the counter, glancing at the menu even though you already knew what you wanted.

“can i get a caramel latte?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. after a pause, you added: “actually, make that two. one iced, one hot.”

the barista nodded, tapping your order into the register. you waited by the counter, the warmth of the shop a sharp contrast to the cool morning outside.

when the drinks were ready, you grabbed the cups and stepped back out onto the street, beginning your trek towards the hospital, the steam from the hot latte curling into the chilly air.

you didn’t usually do this — go out of your way for someone else. but jiwoo had been kind to you for nearly a year now, always trying to engage, smiling even when you brushed her off. maybe it was time to start giving something back, even if just a little.

when you walked into the hospital, the familiar buzz of activity greeted you. you spotted jiwoo at the nurses’ station, her head bent over a stack of charts.

you approached her quietly, holding out the iced caramel latte. “here.”

she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “what’s this?”

“thought you’d like one,” you replied, shrugging.

she stared at you for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “wow, y/n. are you feeling okay? did you hit your head?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a faint smile on your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

she laughed, taking the drink. “thank you. seriously. this is…really sweet of you.”

you nodded, already turning to leave. “see you later.”

“karina’s a good influence isn’t she?” she raised an eyebrow, teasing tone audible. you flipped her off, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

right.

the rest of the day passed in a haze of patient charts and routine procedures. you kept your phone off, avoiding the temptation to check for a reply from jimin but as the hours wore on, you found yourself thinking about her text more and more.

despite your earlier message, you couldn’t shake the image of her showing up at the hospital later, bubble tea in hand, her grin as smug as ever.

you hated how much the thought warmed you. but you didn’t push it away either. maybe you were starting to feel okay with someone caring again.

the faint hum of fluorescent lights filled the space as you flipped through a patient’s chart. it was a rare quiet in your often chaotic schedule these past few days, one that allowed you a moment to breathe and reset before the next inevitable call.

signing off on an order, you heaved out a sigh as you reached out for your pen. then, an older nurse came barrelling towards you — panting.

“doctor y/n!” she called, her tone sharp enough to cut through the calm.

you straightened immediately, the chart forgotten. “what is it?”

“we’ve got a trauma case in the OR,” she said, her words rushing out in a panicked stream. “male, thirty-one, massive internal bleeding from a car accident. he’s critical. there’s no other trauma surgeon on call.”

you froze for half a second, the weight of her words sinking in. the situation wasn’t unusual; emergencies happened all the time, but when she added the final detail, your stomach twisted painfully.

“he was on his way to his wedding,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

the words hit you like

“prep the OR,” you said firmly, already moving. “i’ll be on my way.”

the words hit you like a truck, but you didn’t let it show. you pushed the memories down, shoving them into the mental box you had built for moments like this.

there was no time to think, no time to feel.

the operating room was a blur of activity when you arrived, the team already scrubbing in and preparing the patient. you quickly donned yours, hands moving with practised precision even as your mind raced.

the man on the table looked young, too young to be fighting for his life. his face was pale, his breathing shallow and the monitors surrounding him beeped erratically.

“what’s his status?” you asked, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“male, 31, car accident on the way to his wedding. chest trauma, ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, fractured ribs — we tried contacting other trauma surgeons, but you’re the only one available.”

you clenched your jaw, nodding as you pulled on your gloves. there was no room for hesitation now, no room for your own feelings to surface. the situation was painfully familiar, too close to home, but you buried it deep. your only focus was the man on the table, his life hanging by a thread.

you nodded, stepping into position. “scalpel.”

the surgery was gruelling. time seemed to blur as you worked, every second stretching into an eternity. the damage was extensive — a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and fractures to his ribs that had caused additional complications. you moved methodically, your hands steady even as sweat trickled down your temple.

“suction,” you said, your voice steady despite the pressure.

the nurse complied and you continued, carefully navigating the delicate web of organs and tissues.

“laceration to the liver,” you muttered, leaning closer. “clamp here. we need to stop this before we lose him.”

time blurred as you worked, every movement calculated, every decision critical. the fractures in his ribs had caused additional internal damage, complicating an already precarious situation.

“keep the suction steady,” you said, glancing at the anaesthesiologist. “how’s he holding up?”

“stable for now,” came the reply, though the tension in the room didn’t ease.

the hours dragged on, your focus unwavering even as exhaustion began to creep in. piece by piece, you repaired the damage.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monitors began to steady. “his vitals are improving,” one of the nurses announced, relief evident in her voice.

“he’s going to make it,” you stepped back, your hands trembling slightly as you removed the gloves.

the team around you exhaled collectively, and a few murmured congratulations filled the room. but you didn’t feel triumphant — just drained.

you barely made it outside before pulling out a cigarette, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. the first drag burned your throat, but the sting was grounding, pulling you back into yourself.

leaning against the hospital’s garden wall, you stared blankly at the stick in your hand.

the man’s story, on his way to his wedding, was too close to home. it dug up memories you’d spent years trying to bury.

the cigarette fell from your hand as the first sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling under the weight of three years’ worth of suppressed grief — fingers curling into fists, nails digging into your palms as your breath hitched.

the memories came in waves, unrelenting. you’d spent three years holding it all back: every ounce of heartbreak, every pang of humiliation, every question that would never be answered.

but tonight, the dam finally broke.

you thought about the way you stood there, waiting, believing with everything in you that she would show up. the way you smiled nervously at your parents, at hers, then to the guests who had all gathered to celebrate something that wasn’t real anymore.

the embarrassment, the pitying glances, the murmured apologies you had given when it wasn’t your fault — it all came rushing back, every detail sharper than it had been in years.

the door to the garden creaked open behind you, and you stiffened, trying to choke back the sounds of your crying. you didn’t want anyone to see you like this but the footsteps were soft, familiar and you knew who it was before you even looked up.

jimin.

she approached slowly, her shoes crunching lightly on the gravel. she didn’t say anything at first, just stopped a few feet away, her presence warm and steady. you didn’t look up nor acknowledged her, but you didn’t have to. she came closer, lowering herself to sit beside you on the bench.

at first, she didn’t touch you. she gave you space, her hands resting in her lap as she watched you silently. but when your sobs grew louder, your shoulders trembling uncontrollably, she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you.

she had seen you leave the hospital, your steps hurried and your shoulders hunched as if you were carrying something too heavy for anyone to bear. she had followed, keeping her distance, not wanting to intrude but unable to let you be alone in whatever you were carrying.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and grounding. “let it out. i’m here.”

she’d never seen you like this. not even on that day three years ago. back then, you held yourself together, a picture of forced composure that betrayed none of what you were feeling.

you leaned into her without thinking, her warmth a comfort you hadn’t realised you needed. she wrapped her arms around you as the tears kept coming, her presence anchouring you in a way that words couldn’t.

she held you tightly, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other resting against your head. she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. she just let you fall apart.

it felt like hours passed before your sobs began to subside, your breathing slowing into uneven gasps. you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face with trembling hands.

you didn’t dare look at her, too ashamed of your outburst.

“why do you do this?” you finally said, your voice hoarse and broken.

jimin frowned, tilting her head. “do what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing weakly between the two of you. “why do you keep doing all these nice things for me? why do you care so much?”

her expression softened, but before she could answer, you kept going, your voice rising with frustration — not at her, but at yourself.

“i’m…fucking look at me, i’m damaged goods, jimin. she left me for a reason and that’s because i wasn’t enough for her. and if i wasn’t enough for her, how the hell could i ever be enough for you?”

she opened her mouth to speak, but you pressed on, the words pouring out of you like a dam had broken.

“you should be with someone who has their shit together, someone who isn’t this broken mess. i don’t need fixing and i sure as hell don’t want fixing. i’m not your project, jimin. i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. your chest heaved, the weight of your own words leaving you feeling exposed and raw. you kept your eyes on the ground, unable to face her.

then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek and cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle but firm. she tilted your head up, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes were glassy, tears brimming at the edges but her expression was steady.

“y/n,” her soft voice was shaking slightly but full of conviction. “you don’t get to decide what i feel. and you don’t get to tell me what you deserve because i’ve already decided what you deserve. and that’s everything.

you blinked, stunned into silence as she continued.

“i love you,” she said, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that made your chest tighten. “i love you. not because you’re perfect, not because you’re some project i want to fix. i love you because you’re you.”

her thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, her voice breaking as she went on. “you’re messy. you’re stubborn. you push people away because you’re scared, and you think it’s easier to be alone. but you’re also kind and strong and you care so much that it hurts you. and i love all of it. all of you.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding as her words settled over you. “jimin, i —”

“no,” she interrupted gently, shaking her head. “let me finish. i know you don’t believe me right now. i know you don’t feel like you’re enough. but you are. to me, you are.”

her voice cracked again as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “and even if you can’t see it yet, i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to realise that you are enough. that you’ve always been enough.”

tears blurred your vision again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. you stared at her, unable to find the words, the weight of her confession leaving you breathless.

“jimin,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling. “i don’t know if i can —”

“you don’t have to,” she said softly, her hands still cradling your face. “not right now. not until you’re ready. but just…let me stay. let me be here for you. that’s all i’m asking.”

you nodded, the smallest of movements, but it was enough. she pulled you into her arms again, holding you tightly as your tears began to fall once more…not from grief, but from the overwhelming relief of not being alone anymore.

perhaps you didn’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the tiny apartment in lisbon was quiet, save for the distant sound of street vendors calling out to evening crowds.

minjeong sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor, her back leaning against the peeling wall. the room was sparse; just a bed, a suitcase, and a second-hand lamp casting a dim glow. this was her life now, moving from one place to the next, never staying long enough to plant roots.

it had been three years since she left.

three years of running, of trying to escape the shadow of the person she used to be. it hadn’t worked. no matter where she went, the memories followed her, clinging to her like smoke.

she thought back to the day she ran away with mingyu. she still didn’t understand why she had done it. it felt like rebellion; breaking free from the cage of her life. he had offered her a way out, a chance to escape the constant grind of fame, the suffocating expectations of being winter of aespa. in her desperation, she’d taken it without thinking.

it had been a mistake — the worst one of her life.

two weeks. that was all it took for everything to fall apart. he wasn’t the solution to her problems; he was just another lost soul trying to fill his own emptiness. they argued constantly, their personalities clashing until every word between them felt like a fight.

the final straw had been a shouting match in a dingy motel room somewhere in melbourne. she packed her bag that night and walked away, leaving him without a goodbye.

but leaving him didn’t fix anything. the damage was already done.

minjeong had spent the next three years living like a ghost, drifting from one country to another, working odd jobs to make ends meet. she cleaned houses in barcelona, waited tables in florence and even worked as a gardener in interlaken. she learned to enjoy the simplicity of it all — the routine of making her own meals, the anonymity of blending into crowds.

for the first time in her life, she wasn’t winter; the idol. she was just minjeong, a girl trying to figure out who she was.

the solitude changed her. she learned to live without the luxury she took for granted, without the constant validation of fans or the adoration of the public. it was hard, but it forced her to confront herself, to look at the mess she had made and start picking up the pieces.

but no matter how much she grew, no matter how much she tried to move on, there was one thing she couldn’t escape: you.

you had been the best thing that ever happened to her. she didn’t deserve you, not then and certainly not now. but you had loved her anyway, in a way that no one else ever had.

when the pressure of fame had weighed her down, when she felt like she was suffocating under the expectations of the world, you had been her lifeline.

she thought about the nights you stayed up with her, holding her close when the world felt too big. she remembered the way you would look at her, like she was more than the perfect image she tried so hard to maintain.

you saw her; the messy, flawed, human version of her…and you loved her anyway.

you had saved her when she was drowning. and how did she repay you? by leaving. by walking away on your wedding day, the day she should have promised herself to you forever.

she thought she was sparing you the burden of her brokenness, but all she did was break you too.

she thought about aespa too. they had been her sisters. she had abandoned them without a word, leaving them to pick up the pieces of her absence. she often found herself scrolling through their social media profiles, her heart aching at the sight of aeri and yizhuo laughing together or jimin’s rare selfies.

but it was jimin’s posts that hurt the most.

jimin had been her best friend, the one who knew her better than anyone else. now, her life seemed to revolve around you. her posts were filled with snapshots of dinners, quiet moments and candid photos of you that made minjeong’s chest tighten.

you were still beautiful, even more so than she remembered. but there was something different about you now — an air of weariness and guardedness that hadn’t been there before.

she knew she was responsible for that, and it tore her apart.

the breaking point came one quiet afternoon. she was scrolling through her phone, her thumb idly swiping through posts, when an article caught her eye.

“aespa’s karina opens up about her romantic life: ‘we’re taking things slow, but it’s happening.’”

her breath hitched as she clicked the link, her heart pounding. the article detailed jimin’s recent interview, where she had spoken openly about someone she’d been seeing.

“i’ve been spending a lot of time with someone who means a lot to me,” she had said. “we’re working our way through things in a romantic setting, but very slowly. there’s a lot of healing involved for both of us. but…i’m happy. she’s worth it.”

the accompanying photo was of jimin and you, leaving a restaurant together. her hand rested lightly on your back, her expression soft, almost protective. you looked relaxed, even happy, but there was still a shadow of something unreadable in your eyes.

minjeong stared at the photo for a long time, her chest tight. jimin’s words echoed in her mind: “she’s worth it.”

she closed her phone and sat in silence, her hands trembling. the reality of what she lost hit her all at once — not just you, but the life you could have had together.

and now, jimin was stepping into the space she had abandoned.

that night, she booked a plane ticket to seoul.

it wasn’t a decision made lightly, but she couldn’t stay away any longer.

she needed to apologise; to you, her family, to everyone she had hurt. she didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she had to try.

no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained true: you were her soulmate. and she wasn’t ready to give up on you, not yet.

“minjeong?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[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.

[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.”

[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? “

[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.”

[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🤟🏻🤌🏻

[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

[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.

[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

[gotham-daydreams]

The Dawn

Day 5 {Challenge Masterlist}

Has come, but of course, not every day is meant to go as planned.

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader(?)]

[Warnings: Gore-esc descriptions (a lot of mentions of flesh, flesh moving, muscle, teeth, growth like that and being described being where they shouldn't be), eldritch horror sort of description, ooc characters (?), implied death, alien reader, monster reader, confusing and vague description, obsessive behavior (at least implied), hardly a sprinkle of possessiveness but it's there if you squint, an almost-end-of-the-world scenario. Suicide in the form of self-sacrifice, there is fighting but nothing in detail, harm is done to the reader, body horror.] (Note: If I missed any, I apologize but I think you get the gist. This one is a doozy. Might be a little confusing, and isn't my best work, but I tried my best and once again apologize for the delay. For all those reading this, I hope you enjoy and this has been an interesting short series to try and write with you.)

-------------------

Of a new day has come, and all the residents of the Earth could feel it. Before the sun showed itself, the skies seemed to lose their blue undertones for one half of the world, and the other could see the effects as people – imitators and humans alike – with patches of stars etched into their skin, offered themselves to the sun when it shined down on them, all just to join the vessel who had given promises it never intended to keep. With their essence going into the ground of the Earth, slipping into every crack and crevice, dropping into the near boiling waters as brown, near reddish undertones overtake the atmosphere.

You don’t wait until morning, not with everything in place and nearly everything prepared.

The detective that came with you from Metropolis was lost, but a few miniscule organisms being lost compared to the large amount of other lifeforms on this planet meant little. He served his purpose, just as the rest had – and of their own volition no less. All for the chance to get closer to whatever their heart and mind desired most, a promise you never made but they believed in anyway. It was a funny thing, how something like that worked, but it’s something you’ve come to expect and have worked with numerous times. It’s helped you before, especially with the last few planets, and a little planet such as Earth didn’t seem to change that. Not that such a silly little thought had ever crossed your mind.

Even if the effects seemed to differ, and your encounter with this world’s strange anomalies seemed to only prove that further – you can’t say it wasn’t… enlightening in a way you hadn’t considered before. Which was saying a lot since you’ve had this ‘effect’ on living things for a long time, and yet you still learn more about it as it helps you feed and grow all the more. Admittedly, you didn’t notice it much at first – but after that day, you haven’t forgotten about it. You couldn’t. Not when it held the potential to finally satiate your unending, painful, excruciating appetite.

The memory is a fond one, and you can’t help but recall it each and every time you’re able to feast once again. After all, it’s done you so much good – and without it, you never would’ve been able to even fathom being where you are now. Let alone imagine how utterly satisfying a good meal could really feel. Not with how your own people treated such things, and certainly not with their inability to move from such idiotic customs and traditions – always looking towards a future they never truly worked towards. Though, you had no such problems, and if there was anything you had to thank them for – it would be that one fond, meaningful memory you hold that’s allowed you to see the error of their ways, and be the one to break the cycle of such foolish nonsense. They were lazy, almost arrogant with how confident they were that a good meal large enough to fulfill all of them would come someday and fall right into their laps. It was honestly embarrassing that you were supposed to be the same as them.

However, unlike them you have drive, ambition, and the will to actually try and achieve what they so desperately wished for. To say you had a ‘good meal’ was putting it lightly – as you’ve heard humans put it, in their terminology, you feasted like a king that day. Although the price was high, it was to be expected as food such as that didn’t come easy, nor did it simply grow from the ground. No, such a thing didn’t even exist on your planet.

The results alone were worth it, that much you knew – and it was enough for you to do it again, and again, and again.

One tradition from your species did stick, for it was the only thing that actually made your meals feel better with time. Especially as each and every feast made it easier to endure such things, and this own ‘habit’ of yours became more than just a means to an end. More than just a way to fill your gut and move onto the next planet – no, no, no. It was about feeling the rewards of your efforts, and being able to truly take it all in. You’ve heard a few humans refer to it as ‘chasing a high’, and you can certainly agree that it feels similar to that, just on a much larger scale.

Hence why now, your excitement knew no bounds. You could feel the sun just about to rise, but could feel all those already under its haze begin to fall rapidly, and that alone sent tingles down the spine of your current form. If there was one thing you appreciated about humans, it was their need to please – something that, in a moment like this, certainly changed things enough to where you would surely remember them after this. Their planet may have been small, but you could feel the thrill of the coming feast edging you on. These were certainly the most confusing, annoying, and impatient species you’ve ever worked with – but you couldn’t deny how helpful and fascinating they’ve been. You’ve learned a lot from this little preparation of yours, but now? Oh, now you’re able to finally relish in the reward for your efforts.

The small group of officers you came in with from Metropolis await outside the door for you, and line the hall in straight, parallel lines with their backs to the walls, and after them are the devout members of your little gathering you’ve had placed in Gotham a long time ago. You’ve honestly forgotten most of their names by now, but none of that mattered, and they didn’t seem to mind regardless.

A more natural smile rests on your face, and as you take one step out of the door, their bodies unravel right before your eyes. The very essence that made you, the thing your planet was mostly made out of, replaced the very humans who had followed you so diligently until this day. Most of them had described it as a sort of red dust, but you’d compare it more to the pollen plants on this planet produced, the ends of dandelions – but you could see the comparison, especially when it was more condensed. Something you had to figure out in order to even have them touch it or interact with it in any meaningful way. That was annoying at best, but once it was all figured out… well, you could appreciate humans for at least one other thing. Nevertheless, this was your reward to them, and they all took it with such ease that all you could do was smile wider and continue on with the rest.

The particles begin to swarm you, not one touching the ground as you breathe them in. Even tasting it on your tongue as you pass by more organisms, and they add to the growing haze around you.

By the time you step out of the apartment, it's hard for any other human to see you amongst the storm that seems to be forming around you, but you just continue to walk calmly. Each and every particle sinks into every pore of your body, and as much as you liked this vessel – since it was from one of your most devout followers, and you honestly had a bit of favoritism for it – you knew you’d have to let it go. Human bodies weren’t made to hold you, and could hardly withstand a fraction of your shifting abilities as it is. Like this, you knew it would only be moments until you shred this body to pieces with the mass you’re going to accumulate. Hm. Maybe as a true sign of respect for being such a wonderful host, and offering a body that could actually withstand the transfer while being able to last so long, perhaps you could save them last. For ‘dessert’, as humans called it.

You personally didn’t understand it fully, but it seemed like a good thing. So it’d have to do for now, and seemed honorable enough.

Licking your lips, the sun peaked above the horizon, and while it was still mostly white – the ring around it was a faint red, and the once blue skies were stained and tainted with murk, looking no better than the waters of the Earth. The clouds almost looked dirty from down below, and the world flooded with an odd silence it was never capable of before.

No screams sounded, but as you made your way to the heart of Gotham, many humans approached you to become part of the swirling particles around you that were growing into a sort of cyclone. All in an attempt to feed you, to give or gain whatever your mere ‘presence’ had told them. Their eyes began to leak with water, and they bore their teeth at you in such an odd way – with the corners of their lips still turned up, as if trying to smile with the bone underneath revealed. Something akin to ‘cheering’ filled the streets, and even if you didn’t fully understand the sound itself, you knew what it was supposed to convey.

Joy.

It was then that you knew this planet would truly be one to remember, as it too would relish this day – just as you were going to relish it. 

Before you could risk more damage happening to this vessel of yours, you stripped yourself from it – tucking it away in a nook between buildings before letting the swarm fully attach itself to you with no barriers left in between.

Finally, you could eat to your hearts content. 

— — — — — — — — — —

In full honesty, they should’ve anticipated that you’d be excited for this. That the very moment the first person decided to jump ship, you’d be itching to start, and get things going early – but they had hoped they’d have more time regardless. Your little countdown said as much, but clearly you were impatient, or simply just hungry – but those two things weren’t mutually exclusive, and it was sort of cute how excited you seemed to be. Even if the cost itself was great, and only growing steeper.

They were so close to finishing, and just on time too, but they’d just have to work with this. They didn’t have much of a choice, and even if they could hear the siren’s song from here, could feel the temptation in the very marrow of their bones as it practically ached to be released – they knew what awaited them would be much greater if they resisted and played this right. They’ve gathered as much help as they could, and with your effect washing over everyone on the planet at full force… well, if no one wanted what they did, they were useless anyway.

Getting started was easy – they had begun that part hours ago, and while you were taking your little ‘nap’ no less. A little over half of them were working on little to no sleep, but whatever you did…? It gave them just the energy boost they needed to continue regardless. As if their bodies have been freed of their limitations – or they just couldn’t feel the repercussions as strongly. Regardless of what it was, they weren’t complaining, and took full advantage of this. Barbara was even able to stand from her wheelchair, and even as her legs shook, she could nearly run like this despite still being unable to feel them entirely. Almost.

Those who were most needed on the finishing touches stayed, and the others went to greet you properly.

Finding you wasn’t the hard part – especially not when civilians were practically running in your direction, and all organic matter slowly seemed to fade away, and float towards where you were as well. Like just you revealing yourself made life corrode and rot away at the seems, almost like you had an amplified version of death’s touch, or perhaps were the manifestation of death itself – not that they believed such silly nonsense. You were a hungry little thing! You just needed a bit of discipline, and a very good teacher.

Luckily for you, they were many things – and they’d help you. Just as you’re going to help them.

The swarm looked mesmerizing from afar, and really matched the more earthy and dirty undertones the whole city seemed to take. Like roots from the ground, moss on walls, or vines hanging down from any high point they could reach – masses of flesh and veins seemed to form and grow. Latching onto buildings, and coming from the ground and every crack in the pavement below. Any other life that wasn't close enough to you, such as pets and so on… well, the crawling, writing masses from the ground and various buildings seemed to take care of it, and consumed what you immediately could not. Stemming from the very soil of the city that was once a dark brown, and now seemed oddly red – as did everything else the others seemed to touch before this day.

Small bits of vein and thin bones formed in food, with small pieces left in coffee beans, flour, and similar things having small spots of red in them. No one had to touch any of the baked goods to know the rot forming inside, and it's almost curious how all these small pieces writhe and wiggle, trying to reach one another in order to grow and form a larger mass. As if, even like this, such tiny pieces knew where other small fragments were. How to recognize each other, and had a natural need to be close. To fulfill its purpose.

Reaching the center of the city was easy, the lack of distractions was helpful – not that anything could take their eyes off of the spire forming right before their eyes.

Rising above the skyline, and as if trying to touch the sky and grow closer to the warmth the star it held, provided, was a sculpture in the making – and almost felt inappropriate to see it now, incomplete, unpolished, flawed in a way nothing human could be. Like strings of life, twisting in a braid, flesh from the ground began to rise up and formed something that was shaped like the top half of a human but lacked all the necessary features of one. Various rows of teeth, arteries, muscle, tendons, bone, and so on appeared all over the spire, with it growing much bigger the closer to the ground it was – where most of the feeding was done, as various mass of flesh dragged themselves across the ground and flung themselves to the center piece, allowing it to grow, and for the particles around you to take on a much brighter shade of red. The storm forming around you from the sheer amount of feeding you were doing all at once was nothing short of fascinating, but also made it easier to spot you, even if said ‘storm’ drew more dense around your form.

They couldn’t do much with the storm acting as a sort of barrier between you and them, and they knew the moment they crossed… well, their bodies would make the choice for them – and they couldn’t have that, so they started to cut off your supply from the outside.

Soon, smoke joined the clouds as fires began to spark, and nearly everything was set ablaze — something that immediately caught your attention. To say you weren’t happy was putting it mildly, but your actions afterwards were predictable.

You immediately went in for the attack, and chaos spawned from there. Noises never meant for human ears sounded, and it only further confirmed how alien you truly were – even if your most pure form tried to shape itself as a human at the top. Tendrils and other masses from buildings close to you shot out, and began attacking outside of the swarm of particles. Little to no thought was put behind the attacks, just simply charging forward, and trying to either grab ahold of or take out whoever was being attacked. All with the intent to kill, to consume no matter what – that much was obvious, and so was the fact that despite such smaller organisms holding no brain, they didn’t attack or run into each other. Working in tandem, acting as smaller parts that worked to keep the bigger, much larger and complex machine running.

The fight that broke out was messy, but thanks to you, the family was able to work in sync much better as well – and still being connected to you was very helpful in this instance. For once, the amount of damage they’d cause to the city was of little concern to them, as the flames roared on, and they used their most destructive methods yet. Others were extra messy with it compared to the rest, but there was a certain delicacy in their actions as the swarm slowly grew smaller and more dense, but ultimately got them closer to the center.

Naturally, your temper and mood was only worsening. Making you rage all the more and still try to consume as much as possible, but also growing more petty as you destroyed building, streets, and so on with your roots as an attempt to kill them, get them away from you, and or just rid of them entirely – but also to see something they had cultivated and tried to shape over their short lifespans, destroyed.

If they were all human, perhaps it would’ve worked – but they weren’t, and at least had partially expected this. After all, you were more akin to a child or wild animal when it came to these things. They didn’t exactly know how many times you’ve done this, or where, but had a good enough idea to suspect you didn’t expect much to begin with. Maybe this sort of thing had come easy to you before, and they didn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing, but that also meant your defenses were down, and they fully intended to use that.

Eventually, the few left at the manor had come back to join the battle, with a note being made to Bruce, and some things being discussed as majority of the action was kept elsewhere. After, was when the real plan began.

They started at your roots, which you immediately tried to defend, but you had to focus on all other things as you couldn’t sacrifice the organisms closest to you for growth you could get back quickly. Food was the most important thing to you at the moment, everything else was secondary. Yet, it seemed like these damn Wayne’s knew that as they deliberately went after your food, and also burned your defenses.

This was supposed to be the easiest city to handle, the one that would allow you to pass the first stage with ease – and move in more food without anyone catching on too quickly. They had no powers, they were at the disadvantage besides a few flimsy contacts, and had only noticed anything was wrong during their final moments – but they somehow managed to learn of your greatest and most shameful weakness, knew where to attack, and were still able to coordinate and think clearly enough to form plans?! It wasn’t fair!! It isn’t FAIR!

Another loud shriek fills the air, and when you begin to feel a tingling ache – you finally take things a little more seriously, and more of your mass forms into muscle and bone. Yet, you swear you hear the smallest sounds of amusement from below through the smaller piece that had yet to reach you, coming from various members of this little, pathetic excuse of a so-called ‘family’. Something akin to anger sparks again, and you target all who dared to find anything about this ‘funny’.

You were so focused on targeting anyone who insulted you with such pathetic noises that you hardly noticed when you were low enough to swipe at some individuals – but eventually, you tire of this game.

“ENOUGH!” You shout, voice booming and loud as it echoes down the overwise quiet streets. Taking all the mass you could, you place yourself atop the spire of flesh, bone, and writhing life again. Forgetting your reasons for even doing this, you take in all of the particles that swarm around you, with them swirling around you in a whirlwind before it all stops, and you finally let out a sigh. Having to remind you that these foolish little creatures that dare stop you are made of only a fraction of what you have, that they are merely human, weak, and nothing more. A language without scripture falls from the countless mouths etched and stitched across the beautifully erotic form you call a body, but whatever you said, it makes the small pieces that were left in even the furthest parts of Gotham bolt towards you, and help grow the mass. There, much better.

Looking down at the pathetic life forms that tried to strike you down, you curse them in the only way you know how, and all the windows of the buildings around you shatter into fragments of glass. Whatever mass was able to grow in them. Formed together in large tendrils, and slammed down on the concrete below – beginning their own attacks, and rooting in the building they overtook. Like a parasite clinging onto its host long after death.

Anger itself wasn’t something you were entirely familiar with. You yourself didn’t seem to realize it, but they could tell – something like that is easy to pick up on in their usual line of work, and especially when one of them can read body language as easily as she can. It didn’t seem like an important detail, and it certainly didn’t make your attempts any less ruthless, but it made way for them to have the confidence that you’ve had all this time up until now.

Unfamiliarity can make one messy, uncoordinated, and unable to notice things they wouldn’t miss otherwise. Naturally, they should’ve been that way with you, but because of your very… ‘presence’ – it was nearly impossible for them to feel that way.

The air becomes harder to breathe as smoke continues to fill the air, and the smell of chemicals is mixed in. You hardly notice, not having such senses in a form like this, but you can feel the heat, and it only makes you more agitated – and thus more violent in your attempts to snuff out such insulting efforts to interrupt your feeding.

Your roots move further into the ground, and spread – parts of the braid that make up the lower half of your body untangle themselves and provide whatever defense and offense they can. More of your body hardens, and from down below, you look like a tree that’s slotted itself into the earth and just uncovered the fleshy, bone-like structure inside. People keep trying to run towards you, and fewer are succeeding, but those that do turn to particles for a brief moment before their immediate consumption. It’s clear you're taking this a little more seriously, and the family responds by doubling their efforts.

Then, the strangest thing happens as an oddly familiar shape moves in the sky, and soon blocks out the sun. Illuminating the pulsating, red mass that is your true and most captivating form. Yet, as much as they’d like to stand around and simply stare in awe, they take this opportunity while you’re disconnected from the sun.

Sounds of gunfire, roaring flames, indescribable shrieks, and occasional communication from the remaining heroes increase in volume as you only seem to grow bigger and bigger – yet clearly more agitated as well. Who knows what exactly is getting on your nerves, but it’s enough for you to swoop down and swipe at them. Something akin to animalistic growls escape the countless misshaped ‘mouths’ on your form, and your so focused on attacking and getting these pesky bugs away from you that you fail to realize a few areas on your roots begin to secrete a substance they aren’t supposed to. Though, when you finally do and are about to pull away – one of the younger ones, an anomaly you notice too late that is dressed like the pathetic family pulls you closer to them with a force you can hardly account for, and just as you try to retaliate, you realize you can’t right away.

The bottom half has been severed from you, and you only come to realize what, exactly, that substance may have been as an explosion ruptures throughout the city.

Of course, you try to over take the body of the being that grabbed you – only to get pulled off once again, and flung away from any nearby bodies. Only screams leave the body they severed you from, and all you can do is scramble as each part of you that’s left tries to latch onto something, anything, and that desperation nearly splits up the upper body you have left.

Some of it does split off, and as you lose multiple senses, you form very grotesque eyes on the neck of your form, and they move – trying to look in every direction possible for something to latch onto – and then you spot it.

Not a single question runs through your mind, as you rush and latch onto the body of the human form you had worn all this time. Which now laid out in the open, looked deprived and like it was nearly about to rot away at the seams – but as the smallest of tendrils from your body touch it, life returns to the corpse.

Of course, some damage is done to it, but you have no time to think about that as the sun begins to peek through the moon once more – only for it to get cut off once more. You can barely feel the warmth of its rays over the cold metal that both binds and burns you, but despite it all you try to fight it, and call to the pieces of you that remain.

Reaching out to the sun, you’re dragged across the rough concrete as you try to claw toward the sun. It’s harder than they expected to move you, but with enough effort, they’re able to pull you away.

At the sacrifice of some of your form, you try to shape whatever defenses you can and fight against whoever is dragging you and lash out against them – but more chains are formed as a response, and their grip on you is anything but kind and tender. They feel as if they’re about to rip you apart and melt away whatever’s left over, but nothing grants you that mercy.

Your sensations are dulled with the dark cloak that surrounds you, and you can hardly even register as you're thrown into a box that’s air tight. There is no telling where you’re going, if anywhere at all, but you can feel the call and connection to the pieces of you in Gotham City beginning to sever. Not once do you stop struggling and screaming. An endless stream of your own curses – both foreign and familiar to this planet accompany you until you're roughly tossed into a dark space you can hardly make out, but it feels as comfortable as the pavement in the human city.

The cloak falls, and you can only glare at the sight that greets you – but they can hardly focus on that, not when majority of the color in your iris has taken on a light shade of pink that surrounds your pupil in the shape of a large star, with the gaps in between each corner being filled with your original eye color. Mass of muscle is stuck to half of your face and around one of your eyes, as if the tendons themselves are attached to the skin and grew out of it. It trails down to your arm – with your hand being similar to Greenwood’s after his little ‘reveal’, only smaller and reduced to the same size as your human hand. It's clear the transition from your true form to a human one has come with its downsides and its own flaws, and even if at least one of them was sorry, a few weren’t and almost preferred you this way. It felt like the best of both worlds, and at least this way you were more comprehensible, and easier to understand. Less of a headache to look at – not that they had minded, you were utterly breathtaking regardless.

Still, with you down here, they had a lot of cleaning to do upstairs, and as right as it felt to be down here with you, they couldn’t let you get to their heads too much just yet. There would be time for that later.

“LET ME OUT!” You demand, and honestly it almost works – as did all of your commands prior to this, but just as all those previous moments, they’re able to resist. Their own drive and will trumping yours. Their need to have what’s been promised to them taking over any and all sense.

So, those that brought you in begin to leave, moving to the elevator they had used to come down and head back up to the batcave. However, the last of them stops for a moment, and turns to glance at you. “Just sit tight, and we’ll be right with you. Don’t try anything too drastic- I’d hate to return to nothing but a puddle of goop- and the others too, I guess.” He didn’t seem too thrilled on the subject, as if the concept of sharing with the rest upset him somehow. “But, go ahead and knock yourself out. Because you’re going to be staying with us for the rest of your time here on Earth. So, if you’ve got any other space buddies?”

He turns to face you better, though only by one additional step. “I hope your last memories of them were good enough.”

When he turns and leaves, another shriek tears through your throat, but by the time they all reach the bat cave, it’s hardly even audible. They can sense it more than they can actually hear it, which is an odd sensation but one they’re willing to adapt to. The payoff already feels more than worth it, and just knowing you're around makes them feel so good they don’t know how they’ve been able to survive without you until this point in their lives. Like they’ve all been missing something, and whatever it is, you have it, and are the key to gaining it.

So even as you scratch at the damp, cool walls – deprived of a meal you were so close to fully devouring, and your senses can hardly pick up on anything as the sun's rays are far, and all other extensions of yourself are being dealt with, you scream until you can no longer afford to sacrifice the amount of energy you were able to consume.

Earth will regret this. They will regret this, and you will do everything in your power to ensure that each waking moment of theirs is nothing but utter torture…

However, in spite of all the dark promises you make and vow to see through, your glorious feast is cut short, and life on Earth is allowed another day to flourish.