#Fresh Pond Road Station

[wanderingnewyork]

From 2019: An M train approaches the #Fresh_Pond_Road_station, #Queens.

[davdcorenswet]

🌲 road trip.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: when your camping trip with scott gets cut short because of a work emergency, you nearly kill him and every member of storm par, intent on making your ire well known on the drive home. but when you push scott too far, his impatience has other plans. or “If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Word Count: 13.3k Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, no use of y/n, bdsm, established dom/sub dynamic, pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby), brief mentions of serial killerisms (teasingly… maybe), semi-priv public sex (in a truck), scott has a whore mouth (again), groping, belting (f! receiving), spanking/slapping (f! receiving, breasts & v), oral (m+f), nippleplay (f! receiving), unprotected pinv, orgasm denial, fingering (f), cumplay, breeding A/N: when the "just a quick one shot" turns into a beast... oops? 😬 thank you to my proud sponsor aka the scott rot™️! if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

On hour two of the drive back to OKC, you think you’ve lost your mind.

What had begun as a much-anticipated weekend road trip with Scott — an incredibly overdue escape, though you weren’t exactly keeping track — had swiftly turned from enjoying the fresh, open air and the promise of an entire weekend distraction-free, to a mountain of frustration that battled the ones in the distance. All because your charming, secretly sentimental boyfriend had wanted a picture of you and the sunset for his lock screen.

If you weren’t so upset about it, you probably would’ve laughed.

But this was the fourth (fourth!) time that something had gotten in the way of your Scott Time, and, look — you needed it. So. Fucking. Badly.

Which was why when his phone had gone off again, after Scott had ignored the voicemails Javi left him, you were so, so very tempted to hurl the fucking thing into the pond. Instead, you sat there, already trying to think of a way to get your lick back with the fact that he was the one who’d insisted that going off the grid meant going off the grid and electronics simply took away from the nature of it all, the hypocritical ass. And you’d watched, with dawning realization and equal devastation, as Scott’s entire demeanor had shifted from peeved that Javi even had the audacity, to shutting his mouth and speaking in yes, sir’s and I understand, sir’s.

Oh, Marshall Riggs was going to get an absolute earful the next time y’all sat down for Sunday dinner.

But first, you had your sights set on Scott. And, quite frankly, he deserved every second of petulant that you were giving him.

When he adjusted the air conditioning, you dropped the temp lower. When he found a good station on the radio, you changed it. When he asked for one of the snacks by your seat, you munched on it first, mumbling a fake apology when you passed him a small piece. And when you finally started talking, it was one word answers: yes, no, dunno, sure, fine, whatever.

And every time he gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter, you felt vindicated by the fact that it was ticking him off.

Good. You were ticked off. And unbelievably, atrociously bored. There were only so many things you could do in his truck while you were half giving him a cold shoulder. And, well, after the last time you’d reached for the volume and he’d caught your wrist with a stern ‘knock it off’, like you were a child, you’d resorted to pouting out the window, then sifting through his middle storage, and then snooping through his glove box.

All of which were boring, in the exact way that only a man’s truck could be boring. Who didn’t have a car Chapstick, but could have packs of gum hidden everywhere? And where were the just-in-case napkins? And what did he even use pliers for?

Your brattiness — no, curiosity — wins over the agitation that still simmers just under the surface. You turn to Scott with a mischievous grin as you hold up the pliers. “Be honest. Are you secretly a serial killer?”

Scott glances at you, then at the pliers, before rolling his eyes with a faint smirk. “Caught me,” he deadpans, his voice carrying just enough sarcasm to draw out your giggle.

“I knew it.” You dig further into his glove box like you expect to find a pair of gloves, which stupidly has you giggling because you’d lost your mind, see, and there was no way there’d actually— Oh. Shit. He really did have gloves. “You’re the worst serial killer I’ve met. Your whole murder kit is in here and you haven’t even tried to kill me yet?”

“Getting close to it, honey,” Scott quips, a teasing edge to his voice that makes your heart flutter. His eyes stay fixed on the road, but you catch the slight twitch of his lips, betraying his amusement.

Until you keep it up, making an exaggerated show of pulling out every item you find, each discovery more dramatic than the last. The subtle tightening of his jaw tells you that rummaging through his stuff is getting more of a rise from him than your earlier silence had. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, the whites of his knuckles glowing under the moonlight, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of satisfaction at the sight.

Curling your knees to your chest with his newest item in your lap (a bundle of zip ties), you bat your lashes up at him with feigned innocence. “Am I bothering you, baby?”

“Nope.” Scott, to his credit (you pretend it’s not because you’re his girlfriend but because he just chooses to be kind), swallows down whatever shitty retort is on the tip of his tongue as he shakes his head. “Not at all.”

His eyes flick briefly to you, then back to the road, as if anchoring himself, before he plasters one of his obnoxiously fake smiles on that doesn’t reach his eyes. Your own smile slips at the blatant irritation bubbling just beneath the surface, hating that look, knowing he knew you hated when he was fake with you. He reaches over, his hand finding your knee — not in the usual affectionate squeeze, but more as a grounding gesture, a silent plea for you to stop before you push him too far.

“You might want to close that now,” he adds, his voice soft but laced with an unmistakable edge as he jerks his chin toward his still-open glove box. “Before I really lose my patience.”

“But...” you start, pouting a little, your fingers lingering on the edge of the glove box. “I was just having fun. I mean, what else could be in here? Secret spy gadgets? Hidden treasures?”

Scott’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. His patience is fraying, each word clipped and precise as he says, “Close. It. Now.”

You relent, closing it with a dramatic flourish and an equally exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay. Glove box exploration time is over.”

Scott exhales, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Thank you,” he mutters, though his eyes still carry a hint of irritation as he changes the radio station a couple of times, scowling at the country crooning through his speakers, before just shutting it off.

“You sure you’re okay?” You test, still pushing his limits. You figured that Scott knew you better than that. That you knew him better than that. Nearly seven months together — again, not that you were counting — and he really thought you couldn’t tell when something was off?

You continue, “Just because… Well, you seem a little stressed. Is it because you didn’t get to tie me up and torture me back there by the pond? I mean, I’m sure you’ll get another chance someday, like when cows fly, but—”

“Are you done?” Scott huffs, shooting you a look.

You don’t back down from it, leveling him with your own hard expression. When he’s forced to return to the road, breaking eye contact first, that prideful part of you purrs. He sighs. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but I don’t have any other choice. So sit down, shut up, and stop fucking with my system, please.”

He says the last through gritted teeth, and as much as you loved to antagonize him, you knew when to push and when to not. Putting the last of the stuff back where you’d found it exactly how you’d found it, you stuff your hands under your thighs and pout quietly until he visibly relaxes again.

“You’re not being very nice,” you mumble, the silence that encases you both too much to bear.

Scott runs his tongue over his teeth, then looks over at you, his expression hard. “And you’re lucky I haven’t spanked your ass raw for that attitude yet.” Surprise must flash across your face, because a smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth that he quickly masks. “What? Did you think I would just let all that slide?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Liar.”

Damn it.

Before you can say anything else, Scott reaches over, gently but firmly tilting your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as his eyes leave the road for a second. “Do I need to remind you of the rules?” he asks, his tone shifting from frustrated to something far more controlled and deliberate — each word laced with a quiet authority that sends a shiver down your spine and makes your blood run hot.

It’s a tone you’ve come to know all too well, one that signals a subtle shift in the dynamic between you, a reminder of exactly who’s in charge.

To anyone else, it might have sounded like another classic Scott lecture — a stern word from someone who was used to being in control. But you knew this side of him intimately well, understood the depths of what he was really asking. This wasn’t just about a conversation or setting you straight; it was a command, a subtle but potent assertion of the power he held over you.

“Answer me,” he prompts, his voice dropping to a low, steady hum that makes your pulse race. “Yes or no, honey.”

“No,” you breathe, testing the waters of defiance.

“Let’s try that again.” Scott’s grip remains steady on the wheel, but the weight of his gaze feels like a tightening hold around you. “No, what?” he asks, his voice low and demanding, leaving no room for anything but the correct response.

You swallow. The tension between you is thick and electric. “No, sir.”

He holds your gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity, long enough for you to actually worry about him being behind the wheel. But a quick glance at the road reassures you — he’s in complete control, staying perfectly between the lines, maintaining a comfortable distance from the cars ahead and behind.

His eyes flicker to your mouth, lingering there with a deliberate intensity. “We’ll see.”

A noise of discontent escapes you immediately when he returns to his side of the truck as if nothing happened, all the air leaving your lungs. We’ll see. That was it? No good girl? It’s a reprimand all on its own, defiance filling you quickly.

What was the point of his rules if he wasn’t going to listen to them?

First with his phone, which had gotten you here in the first place, and now this. You pout, crossing your arms as you glare at the car in front of you, hating everything about this weekend. God, you’d both been so exhausted from the drive to the campsite that you hadn’t even touched him like he’d promised you could **— **on top of the week he’d already instructed you not to touch yourself.

And now Scott was going to be buried in work again. He’d drop you off at home just to drive another hour or two to who the hell knew where, and from there it was back to the office to get the paperwork rolling, call the banks, pouring hour after hour into making sure this deal went through. All because Riggs had decided his time off was more important than yours.

But it wasn’t. You’d waited eons for this. And you were damned if you were going to let both him and Scott stop you.

Slowly, so slowly, you angle yourself toward your boyfriend, his eyes distant as he readjusts in his seat and fishes absentmindedly for a piece of gum to smack on. For a moment you can’t help but admire him, appreciating the way he filled out the seat, the way his jaw worked with the gum, how when he got lost in his thoughts and had a particularly interesting idea he swiped his fingers along his perfect, full mouth.

He was masculine without any effort, intelligent and calculating, and, despite this weekend, was the most attentive boyfriend you’d ever had.

And you ached for him.

Just that tone shift alone — from Scott to sir — had spiked your temperature, leaving you warm with the lack of air conditioning. You knew better than to reach for the knobs, even if the thought of him pinning your wrist down had your thighs pressing together. So you shift forward to unzip his jacket you’d stolen, meaning to shimmy it off, when you catch his eyes on you.

Instead of taking it off completely, you let the gray fabric bunch to your elbows. His eyes slide from the way it now sits on you to your white tank top before focusing back on the road, his gum making that unmistakable snap! he always did. “What’re you doing?” He asks, stealing another glance as you wriggle in the seat.

“Just hot, baby,” you hum, which wasn’t a lie.

But there’s no way to be subtle as you collect your hair into a ponytail and tie it with your scrunchie, just like there’s no way Scott can be subtle as he zeroes in on your hair being up or the fact that your tits jiggle with every bump or dip in the road. His hand flexes on the wheel, quick to snap his attention to the mirrors, as if he’d been checking them in the first place.

You bite back a smile.

By the time Scott is pressing on the brakes, an accident brings the two-lane down to one, one foot is propped up on his dashboard, your head turned to face him with every sigh that leaves your lips. With nothing to pull his attention now other than the slow crawl, his eyes catch yours again, his guard dropping as he falsely believes you’ve listened.

And that’s when you make your move.

“Baby,” you groan, wetting your lips as your fingers brush across his sleeve. Your other hand rests against your knee, slipping down along your thigh while you bat thick lashes up at him. “Can you turn the air on, please? I’m dying.”

“Mhm.” Scott does, following the invisible line your fingers paint across your skin as the air kicks on. The cool air is welcomed and the content noise that leaves you isn’t entirely fabricated. When his hand drops to rest on your thigh, you know he feels how flushed you are under his cold touch. And you know he feels you arch into it. “How’s that? Better?”

“’ Little.” Not even close, but you play it up now that you’ve got him. “Still too hot.”

“Sorry, honey,” Scott’s deep voice is genuine, frowning a bit as he squeezes your thigh. “Got it the lowest it can go. Need me to roll a window down?”

You shake your head. “It’d just bring all the hot air in.” Something he should’ve known, but you couldn’t blame him for being a little distracted. You press on, confident, still inflecting that whine in your voice. “Your hand feels good, though.”

His touch inches up your thigh in response, sure that he’s not even aware he’s doing it. As your touch moves in time with his, you drag your free hand across your chest, pressing against the leather of his seats and pushing a strap off your shoulder. The cool air directly hitting you causes a flurry of goosebumps to rise and your nipples to poke through the fabric, chest rising and falling as you make a show of overheating.

Scott snaps his gum again, removing his hand to tug gently on his jacket. “What did I say about going through my stuff?”

“Oh, you left it at my place. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.” You try to play innocent, but the smile you give him is nothing short of mischievous as you intentionally arch up into his touch. “Do you want it back, sir?”

He’s quiet for so long that you think he’s returned to the road. Instead, his eyes are locked on the thin tank top that clings tight around you. A quiet hum echoes in the back of his throat as he runs his knuckles over the swell of your breast, dragging slowly across your nipple, before he seems to think better of himself and places both hands back on the wheel.

“Keep it.” He grunts, “It looks better on you, anyway.”

“Really?” Despite how you try to hide the happiness from your voice, you fail miserably. Scott didn’t offer many liberties, especially not with his personal belongings. You don’t let the distance keep you far, unhooking your seatbelt and leaning over the center divider to beam up at him.

“Really.” Your heart pitter-patters in your chest when he hums again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His eyes slide back to the road, still at a slow crawl. “Don’t get any ideas, honey.”

Oh, you had about fifty different ones, most of which included seeing how far you could go down this new avenue. You drop a kiss to his shoulder, nuzzling against his cold skin, slipping your arm through his and guiding his hand back to your thigh. Scott squeezes again, a small warning to behave. But since when did you do that?

“Come on,” he taps an index against you after a few minutes, “Buckle up. Safety first.”

“But—” You pout, wrapping your arm around him tighter. He could drive with one hand, and besides, you were barely moving enough for a seatbelt to matter. “You feel so nice. And you’re always away for sooo long, baby. And now you’re gonna be gone again?” Brushing your nose along his jaw, you let your hand drop casually to his thigh. “I just miss you.”

“It’ll only be for a few days.” He shifts under you, chewing his gum slower. No doubt weighing whether he should let this continue or end it early.

“A few days too many.” You feel him inhale as your touch roams, sliding over his muscled thigh and across the zipper of his jeans. He’s already half-hard, the outline of him growing more apparent as you continue, “Do you know how lonely it gets without you? Knowing I can’t cuddle you… Kiss you… Touch you?”

You grope him where you know his weak point is while leaning up to scrape your teeth against his earlobe. His hips lift of their own accord as he instinctively searches for more, his grip on the wheel tightening as he squeezes your thigh in his big hands.

You hide your smile as he thickens under your palm. And smile wider at the growl in his voice as he orders, “Behave.”

“Am I breaking any rules, sir?” With your lips at his ear, every needy breath against him has Scott tensing in response.

Your shorts ride up — and so does his hand, until he’s close enough that you can grind your clothed heat into him. It’s just a single roll of your hips, keeping pressure where you crave him, but it has you whining all the same.

“Please, I missed you so much… I miss touching you, feeling how big you are in my hands…” You drag your palm against his thick length, fully straining against his zipper now, his breath coming out heavy as you grip him. “Please, please, just let me taste you. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise. Wouldn’t I look so pretty with your cock stuffed down my throat? Sounding so pretty as I choke on you?” You whimper against him, the sound small and needy. “Please, sir?”

The combination of your fingers wrapped around him and the feel of your tongue lapping at that sweet spot on his neck has Scott groaning, the noise coming from deep in his throat. Before you can react, he presses you firmly back into your seat, keeping you pinned with his hand across your sternum while you try to fight against the distance he forces between you two.

“Behave.” His gaze meets yours, dark and heavy and no-nonsense.

Your cunt clenches at the authority in his tone, nipples peaking in response. Scott slips his palm under the fabric of your shirt, kneading your heaving chest and rolling the hardened nub between his index and thumb. You writhe at the sensation, a moan spilling out of you, until he pinches you hard enough that you gasp. Just as quick as it happens, he pulls out just enough to bring his palm down roughly against your tit.

The sting of the impact has you arching off the seat as your cry pierces the silence.

Scott presses his index to your mouth in warning as the police lights finally illuminate his truck, the accident off to the side. You’re breathing too heavy to pay attention to it beyond that, not caring about anything happening outside of this truck, and you pass by quickly without any incident.

The air is still heavy as you meet his gaze. And you can’t help when your fingers grip the sides of your shorts to bunch the material in your hands, greedily grinding into the taut seam aligned perfectly with your center.

Scott watches it all silently. “You want to be my good girl?” His fingers draw invisible lines down your thigh, spreading your legs apart with just a touch. You comply easily, nodding as he smooths his hand along your skin and ignites a fire inside you. “Then fucking act like one.”

There’s no warning when he slaps your pussy hard, the denim digging painfully into you. Your hands fly out to grip whatever you can as your hips stir against the pain, crying out as another smack sounds, punishing your disobedience.

And still, you can’t help but whine out for him. “But I need you! I’ve been so, so good this whole time, I swear. Even when you told me not to touch, even when I wanted to so badly— I listened, I swear I did.” Pouting over at Scott, you whimper. “Please, I promise.”

“Go on. Keep it up. Do you think you’re listening now?” His hand tightens to a fist as he rests it hard against the center divider. His gaze pings to the time display on the dashboard, then to you. “The more you misbehave, the longer you wait. Was a week too short, honey? Do we need to extend it to two? Three? Can you even wait that long without disobeying me again?”

You can barely answer, only whimpering out as you press yourself into his arm, careening out of the seat. His hand clasps hard around your wrist when you reach for his zipper again, cutting off whatever noise is in your throat with a low growl.

“If I have to pull over,” he grits out, looking you dead in the eyes, “You won’t be able to walk for a week.”

You level his hard gaze with your own even as your heart pounds heavy, his threat thinly veiled as his grip tightens around your wrist.

And you swear you don’t mean to, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Can you go that long without fucking me? If I can’t touch, neither can you. Not a kiss, not a hug, I won’t even let you fuck my mouth!”

As your frustration boils over, you breathe raggedly against yourself, fighting to rip your hand out of his strong grasp. He’s quiet as he watches you, the look in his eyes betraying nothing that simmers underneath the surface.

Calmly, too calmly, he continues driving, following the road as the dark trees pass you by. When he moves off the pavement to turn down a dirt road, your heart flies to your throat.

“What are you doing?” You squeak, looking behind you as if expecting anyone else to follow, but it’s just you on the solitary single lane, his tires crunching on the dirt road. “Scott?”

His mouth stays shut, turning into a clearing of trees. You usually love the outdoors, but the forest around you looks foreboding and eerie, the trees looming large overhead. You glance out the window to the night sky, but there’s not even a twinkle of starlight here. Just inky black nothingness.

He shuts the engine off, taking the headlights with it.

You think you stop breathing.

“Get in the back.” His order is quiet against the silence but travels along your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Now.”

As much as you want to protest, the words catch in your throat, refusing to form. Instead, you wordlessly climb over the center divider, dropping his zip ties into the cupholder with a deliberate clink. Your bags, shoved angrily into the back when he’d asked you to pack up, tumble to the floor, landing in a haphazard pile as you settle into the backseat.

The sudden darkness engulfs you, your eyes straining to adjust to the dim light. You can barely make out Scott’s silhouette, his intense gaze fixed on you before he opens his door with a determined click.

Silently, Scott slips out of the driver’s seat, the slam of each door echoing through the night like a final verdict. You hold your breath as he rounds the truck, each crunch of his boots against the twigs and leaves sounding louder than meant to be. The backseat door opens, and he slides in beside you, the leather creaking softly under his weight.

You find your breath again when his hand, warm and steady, smooths around your ankle, his touch both grounding and possessive. He makes room for himself, his presence filling the confined space with an electric charge. The air grows thick with anticipation as you sit there, the darkness around you deepening, your heart pounding in your chest.

Scott’s fingers trail up your leg with deliberate slowness, each movement precise and controlled. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you hostage. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, searching for some sort of escape. But it was too dark outside to see, the woods maybe terrified you a little bit without Scott by your side, and even if he chased after you — and you weren’t bratty enough to do that — you had absolutely no idea how to get back to a road, let alone the road.

And, well, you didn’t really want to get away from him. Just the punishment you knew he would dole out for your disobedience.

Still—

“I thought we had to get back to the city,” you squeak out, voice trembling against your better efforts as you try to plead your case to deaf ears, “Riggs– Riggs said you needed to be back, right? And you know how far my place is from your office, and—”

“We have time for this,” Scott interrupts, his voice firm, a low rumble that leaves no room for argument. He presses his index to the pout of your mouth, silencing you. It sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath hitching as you squirm under his grip, eyes wide and pleading.

If you were a deer in headlights, Scott was a hunter. And he was a damn good hunter.

Scott’s beautiful mouth curves into a grin, his eyes darkening with a hint of amusement. He leans in closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of leather and the outdoors mingling with his intoxicating scent. The tension in the air thickens, every sound amplified by the stillness of the night. The rustling leaves outside, the distant hoot of an owl, even the faint hum of the truck’s cooling engine — all seem to echo the pulsing beat of your heart.

You can feel the rough texture of his jeans against your skin as he shifts, making himself comfortable, his body pressing against yours in the confined space. His hand, warm and commanding, moves from your mouth to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere until I say so,” he states, his eyes gleaming, all possession and affection. His words wrap around you like a promise, binding you to this moment, to him.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, the gravity of everything sinking in. Scott’s eyes lock onto yours, a silent command for your complete attention. His other hand slides down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, before settling on your waist, pulling you even closer.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re safe with me.”

Your lashes flutter as a noise sounds in the back of your throat, caught between a plea and a whimper. You trusted Scott more than anything, and knew, without question, without fear, that he would never do anything you didn’t want.

And god, you wanted him bad enough that it ached.

“I need you to understand a few things, honey,” Scott continues, his voice still that deadly calm, his finger dragging slowly down your chin, tracing a deliberate path down the column of your throat. “I can tolerate you being upset. I’m not happy about it, either, despite what you might think.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his gaze lock onto yours, his eyes dark and unwavering. “But what I won’t tolerate,” he says, his tone sharpening as he closes his hand around your throat with a possessive grip, “is your disrespect.”

“But—”

“Shut up.” Scott’s voice is a low, dangerous growl as he tightens his hold on you, his thumb pressing firmly into your pulse. The pressure is confident and calculated — the kind of control that comes from having done this countless times before. “I’m not done.”

Defiance bubbles up and fights Scott at every turn, and despite the way you wriggle under him, your eyes grow hazy with need at the feel of his hand around your throat. God, you knew exactly what those hands were capable of; sweet, delicious torture, doling punishment and reward with equal passion. “But—”

“Why can you never fucking listen?” His voice drops to a growl that vibrates against your ear, his body shifting so that his weight presses down on you. You whimper at the added pressure, your fingers instinctively fisting the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold onto something solid.

Scott notices. With a swift motion, he knocks your wrists away, gripping both of them together with a firm, unyielding hold. When he pins them above your head, possessive and commanding, you can’t help but moan, growing pliant under his weight.

“Maybe I do need to remind you of my rules,” he says, his voice a dangerous purr, “since you seem to like breaking them.”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Every word is low and steady, completely in control. “You’re going to pay attention now, aren’t you? You’re going to listen to every word I say.”

Your pulse races under his thumb, the pressure making it difficult to focus on anything other than the commanding presence of his body pressed against yours. The conflicting emotions — fear, need, frustration — swirl together, drawing the breath from your lungs.

Scott’s eyes meet yours again, the dark intensity he’d first set on you softening slightly. “Do you trust me?” He asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, carrying with it both a challenge and an invitation.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe. Always.

“Good.” He presses a tender kiss to your temple and cheek, nudging his nose into the curve of your shoulder and kissing the column of your throat. Your body responds in kind, arching up into his generosity, the calm before the storm, as he slowly releases his hold on you. One tap against your wrist is a silent order to keep them there, and you thread your fingers together, looping them into the door grip as he kisses his way back up to your mouth. “Because you’re going to hate me tonight.”

You want to tell him that such a thing is impossible — there was nothing Scott could do that would make you hate him, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he was sometimes — but he doesn’t give you a chance to speak. Lifting you up, or at least as much as he can in the truck with his hulking size, Scott draws a hand around the curve of your waist, pushing his jacket aside to expose more of you.

“Take this off.” He orders. His expression melts back into one of superiority, one you’re all too familiar with, and you try not to pout when he continues with, “I changed my mind. I want it back.”

“Want what back?” You hum, fingers twitching. You debate the pros and cons of pointing out that you can’t take off his jacket with your hands still pinned in place, but bite your lip instead. You were already pushing the envelope — a lot — by feigning innocence.

“You know what.” Sensing that you’re still… sort of… listening, Scott, taps your wrist twice, freeing you of your position. Under his tone, your fingers close around the material of his comfortable clothing, lifting to slip it fully off your frame. You drop it next to your stuff with your eyes trained on his. “When I’m convinced you can behave, I’ll consider giving it back.”

That snaps your mouth shut. Pressing your lips together, you nod as you place your hands back in their previous position, the only tell that he’s satisfied by your change of heart being a slight twitch of a smile.

“I didn’t say you were done,” he drags his gaze along the length of you, his touch following where his eyes roam until he hooks a finger around the belt loop of your shorts. “Take these off, too, and turn around.”

Electricity charges through you at the command in his voice. Your movements are slow, careful, as you try not to bump into anything as you slide out from under him and remove your shirt. Your shorts follow, but he stops you as you hook your thumbs under the waist of your panties, both of his large hands sliding on your hips to face you opposite him.

He’s massive against you, your back pressing against his chest as his hands roam freely, trailing up the length of you and then down your arms to place your hands back in their previous position, fingers curling around yours in a silent gesture. And then his touch returns, calloused fingertips dragging over every spot of your soft skin, cupping your breast in his hand as he sighs against your neck.

You feel the hard length of him straining against his jeans as he pulls you to him, every caress coaxing a fire in you. Even though you want nothing more than to touch him, to take him into your hands, he has you caught. You really wanted that jacket.

And you hated disappointing him.

His touch wanders to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his hand before he smooths a hand up your spine, signaling for you to bend over. You comply with shallow breaths, the warmth of him missing when he puts even more space between you.

“How many times do you think you disobeyed me tonight, honey?” He asks, the question making your heart stutter. He continues to knead your skin, but with your angle, you can’t see anything happening behind you. “I’ll let you guess.”

You try to think back, but everything is hazy now. When you got in these moods — which was more often than not — you had a hard time telling which rules were broken and which weren’t, because, well, you tended to do it a lot. And you knew Scott well enough by now that even if you guessed any number, it wouldn’t be specific. It wouldn’t be right. Guess lower, and he’d add more. Guess higher, and he’d use your number, then remind you of the true one after it was all said and done.

A gasp escapes from you as your eyes flutter shut. Fuck. “I– I don’t know, sir.”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he just hums, adjusting the twisted straps of your underwear higher up on your hips. “Thirty-two times.” He lets that sit heavy in the air for a moment, your breath stalling in your throat. “You know what happens when it gets that high, honey.”

“You use the belt,” you whisper, the words barely audible.

Scott nods. “Mhm. I use the belt.” The soft, metallic clink of his buckle coming undone is followed by a steady hand against your hip, smoothing circles along your skin as you begin to tremble in anticipation. “Shhh. You know the rules. Count.”

The first point of contact is always the worst. He lets the moment play out, your body tensing and easing as you wait for any sign that it’s coming, but he gives no indication when he stops touching you. And then the sharp sting as leather meets your rear, the folded-over halves biting into you with practiced efficiency.

Your eyes squeeze shut, fingers tightening around the handle as you gasp out, “One.”

By the end, your muscles are taut and your backside is red and flaming, your whimpers spilling freely from your mouth. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to hold yourself up, trembling with exertion. Scott rubs his hand along your curves, having given equal attention to both cheeks, a content noise sounding in the back of his throat as you still careen toward him.

“Last one, honey. You’re doing so good.” He praises quietly, the only encouragement you need as his belt goes sailing toward you again, leaving another welt in its wake.

“Thirty-two!” Escaping through gritted teeth, you jerk forward with the impact, breathing hard and heavy when you hear the clink of his belt falling to the floor.

Scott taps twice along your stomach as he brings you up to his chest, careful to leave space between you as he smooths over your sore muscles, easing the pain. He presses kisses along your throat, your shoulder, letting you shake against him as you lulls you down from the high, every touch soft and affectionate. “That’s it, I know… Shhh… Did so good for me, honey…”

Each sweet nothing brings you down, continuing to press kisses against your skin until your breathing evens out. Scott sets his hands to your hips, holding you firmly, nudging the space just behind your ear.

“If you just listened, I wouldn’t have to punish you.” He reminds, letting your hands drift over his. Despite the softness of his tone, you still catch the authority seeping through every word, and you know it’s far from over. “I don’t like how you spoke to me today, honey.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you breathe, meaning them truthfully. Scott presses another kiss to your skin in acknowledgment. “I was just upset. I wanted to spend this weekend with you, and—”

“Am I not making this time now?” He questions, cutting you off. When his touch wanders between your thighs, fingers circling your clothed clit, soaked despite his brutal treatment, he groans against you. “What was it you said earlier… That I couldn’t touch you? That you wouldn’t let me?”

Vaguely, through your hazy mind, you remember saying that. But you keep your mouth shut, quiet little noises escaping as he continues to please you, easing away the pain he’d caused. Your desire for him, so neglected because of his orders, coils deep inside you as he recites your perfect tempo — having spent hours exploring, learning, and committing what you enjoyed to memory.

“Let’s make one thing abundantly clear,” he continues. “Every part of you is mine to touch, spank, suck, lick, and fuck as I please. Any time. Any day. Any place. Those are the rules you agreed to. If I want you just like this…” Adding pressure, he holds you up as your knees buckle against him, “I will, for as long as I want. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words come out shaky, breath hitching with every skilled circle of his fingers. “I understand, sir.”

“Then show me you understand.” Within a second his touch is gone, leaving you delirious as you search for him. You hear the rustle of fabric behind you, twisting to watch him slip off his shirt, then ease himself down on the backseat with a foot firmly planted on the floor. His fingers hover over the button on his jeans, flipping it open as his dark gaze trains on you. “Come here.”

You comply immediately, drawing forward as his hand slips in your hair. Scott pushes down the restricting fabric, slipping his hand into his black briefs, freeing himself from his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, thick and veiny and dripping with precum, his fist stroking himself as he holds you there, coating his length with his desire.

“Look what you do to me,” he whispers, drinking in every shallow breath, the way your eyes remain fixed on his hand, how your hips stir with every twist like you imagining yourself riding him. “Even when you’re a fucking brat, I can’t get enough of you, honey. Always so fucking hard for you. You have no idea…” He releases himself to cup your chin, spreading himself over the swell of your mouth. You greedily taste what he offers, tongue lapping at him before sucking on the tip of his thumb. “I’d spend an eternity inside you if I could.”

Those words — the claim, the rare admission — makes your heart somersault in your chest.

Without waiting for his command, you crawl between his legs and sink to draw your hand along his jean-clad thigh, a silent plea echoing in your eyes. As he wets his lips, you grip his length in your hand, his girth barely allowing you to wrap fully around him. Scott’s breath hitches as you stroke him exactly how he prefers, your hand sinking lower with each slow, deliberate movement.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, the tip of his cock as pink as his lips, and you pay special attention to it, thumb smoothing along the sensitive underside of him. The soft action has his hips bucking up into your touch, breath hissing between his teeth as he wraps your hair around his fist.

No matter how many times you were in this position, nothing changed how exhilarating it was to have brief a moment of power over him.

When you move to take him into your mouth, your tongue flat and eager, Scott wraps his fingers around your throat, that playful glint in his eyes replacing quickly with hellish intent.

“Did I tell you that you could touch?” He murmurs, releasing his grip on your hair to pluck your hand off him.

You want to point out that he didn’t seem to have a problem with that when he’d been half-thrusting into your hand, but the look in his eyes silences the retort on your lips. So you let him grip your wrist, and your throat, sure he can feel the heavy pound of your pulse as you whimper at the interruption.

“I just want a little taste,” you plead, jutting your bottom lip out and batting your thick lashes up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze.

Scott just shakes his head. And you feel the coil of defiance begin again.

“Don’t you want my tongue on you, sir? Licking up every thick inch of you? Seeing how much I can take in my hot little mouth?” You know you’re pushing it with how his grip on your wrist tightens, but fuck, you needed to feel him, to touch him, especially after he’d denied you the pleasure of it for so long.

You shift so your free hand wraps around his shaft again. Scott grunts as he watches you play with him, your small hand moving effortlessly along his girth. With both his hands occupied, he has nothing to stop you from doing what you want, what you need, as your gaze flickers down to openly admire his masculinity. “Don’t I look so pretty when I choke on you, baby?”

Despite how his gaze darkens and he twitches in your hand, Scott releases your wrist enough to rest his hand on the edge of the backseat, his brow raising. “You’d look prettier if you listened, sweetheart.”

The condescending nickname rolls through you, your face twisting in disgust at it — he knew you hated it, knew it reminded you of the old men who often tried to make passes at you. It disgusts you enough that you release him from your grip, watching a smile slowly spread on his face.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to sound weak with his fist still around you.

“And I thought I told you to listen, but you don’t seem to be doing a good job of that even after the belt.” He shifts his grip from the front of your neck to the back of it, pulling you closer. “What’s my name?”

You hesitate at how hard his gaze is trained on you. “Sir.”

He nods. “And what did you call me earlier?”

Oh. As the dots connect, realization flickering across your features, Scott’s eyes mirror your understanding. He doesn’t give you a chance to say it, continuing, “Until you can learn to listen, you don’t get to cum until I say so.”

You wait for a day, an end time, something that’ll make counting the days at least a little worthwhile — but it never comes. Instead, he just stares at you, waiting for you to defy him again, waiting for you to open your mouth, to push back. But his fingers twitch like he’s going to reach for his belt again, and the thought of that on your already raw backside makes a whimper escape.

“I understand, sir.”

His gaze softens for a moment — and a small part of you hopes that he changes his mind, that he’ll take it back… But Scott was never that type of man. Once something was final, it was final. No amount of begging or pleading could win your case.

He cups your face in his hands like he knows what he’s asking may push you past your breaking point. Never in the months you’ve been together has he implemented something indefinitely, but you’ve never pushed back this much. When his mouth roams over yours, gentle given the circumstances, you taste the sharp spearmint of his gum as his tongue explores you, soothing your whimpers and whines until you’re somewhat relaxed under his touch.

“Are you going to be a good girl if I let you blow me, honey?” He asks, lips ghosting over your mouth, your jaw, pressing a kiss against the column of your throat. You nod, not trusting your voice. “I mean it. No whining. No pleading. No biting.” His gaze flickers up to yours as a memory passes through both of you, your cheeks heating up, caught. He knew you too fucking well. “If I want you to choke on me, you’re going to choke. If I want you to wrap those pretty lips around my head, you will. And if I want your mouth not on me at all…”

“I’ll listen, sir,” you promise, breathless, squirming with need.

Scott’s eyes flash with approval, pressing one more kiss to your mouth before he settles back down against the leather. You follow, slow, cautious, your hands pressing into his thighs as he grips himself.

And when you wrap your lips around him, everything else fades away. You take him at his pace, slower than you would prefer but dutifully obeying his silent instructions, your hair coiled around his fist. The taste of him on your tongue has your eyes glazing over with desire, flickering up to watch him watch you, your head bobbing around his length, spit sliding down his shaft as he makes you take him deeper, deeper, until he’s hitting the back of your throat and there’s still inches between you.

Scott groans as he pushes you further, trained on how your body instinctively fights him, taking his cock entirely in your mouth when your nose brushes the soft skin of his abdomen. Your core drips with need, soaking your panties, at the guttural sound that escapes him: all masculine and intoxicating. You crave more of it, more of his approval, more of him — but he pulls you off with a pop, a trail of saliva traveling from his swollen head to your mouth, before doing it again and again, each time longer than the last.

“So fucking good,” he pants, pulling you off him again, his eyes blown as you suck on his tip like a lollipop.

Your tongue swirls around his head, wrapping your hands around the rest of him that you don’t swallow, little moans escaping.

And then he’s pressing you back down again, his grip holding you stationary as he thrusts into you like he can’t help himself, every action powerful and erotic as the sound of your throat taking his vigorous pace fills the truck. As he fucks your mouth, you knead your breast in your hand, pinching hard at your nipple when the desire to slip your hand between your thighs nearly overcomes you.

Scott watches it all with a growing arousal, his voice deep as he groans. “Fuck, honey, just like that. Want you to remember this next time you think of talking back,” he says, eyes closing briefly at how good you feel. “So fucking perfect with my cock down your throat. Does that make you hot, honey? Wanna rub that fucking clit while I fuck your face?”

You moan around him in response, something between a yes and a please that sounds more muffled than an actual word. Every time you take him deeper you feel that hot flash of aching desire pulse through you, your blood hot, sure that even through your panties you were dripping all over his leather seats.

The thought has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Scott’s growls turn positively primal as he pulls you off. “Keep making that face and I’m gonna cum right down that pretty throat.” He lifts enough to bring you to your knees, wrapping an arm around you to pull you flush against him as he drags his heavy touch along your naked frame. “You don’t want that, do you, honey? Fuck, I can smell how soaked you are for me.”

He wastes no time as he slips his hand beneath your panties, fingers sliding easily between your slicked folds as he groans. “My dirty girl. You like my filthy fucking mouth, honey, is that it?” Scott pushes a finger inside you, your body arching up into his as you nod, a breathy noise escaping. “Like when I tell you how good you feel? How fucking hard it gets me? How I dream about fucking you every single night when I’m away?”

God, yes. You assumed — but never asked — about what he thought when he couldn’t be near you, but the confirmation that you were on his mind just as much as he was on yours makes you clench around his finger.

“I’m gonna taste you,” Scott promises, his voice ragged. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll hear you in the city.”

It’s all the warning you get before he presses you down onto the seat, his mouth capturing yours as he settles atop you. Your body is pliant underneath his, gripping every inch of him, while he trails his mouth along your soft skin. Fuck, you felt like heaven to him — so smooth to his calloused hands.

And you made the prettiest noises when his mouth descended on your nipple, sucking and flicking at the hardened nub before giving equal attention to the other, all too aware of how your hips roll helplessly as he kisses his way down your tummy.

“I love how desperate you get,” he groans, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties, drawing them down your legs. He nudges your legs apart with his nose, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your thigh. Thick fingers spread your folds apart as he takes you in, the touch making you reach for something to hold onto.

“Please,” you whine, running your fingertips along his shoulder, propping yourself up as he sucked a possessive mark into your thigh. Scott just hums, moving to the other, relishing in the sharp intake of breath as he nips at you. “Please make me feel good, sir?”

“You gonna be good for me?” He asks again, blue eyes flicking up to meet yours, his question serious as he nears the apex of your thighs.

You nod, tongue darting out between your lips as his focus momentarily breaks, darting down to watch how his fingers slide effortlessly over you, teasing your clit. “I’ll be good, sir, I swear.” Just as long as he keeps touching you like that, you’ll agree to anything.

Scott hums, playing with you for long enough that you think he’ll tease you into oblivion. But then his tongue darts out. licking a hot stripe up your center, and he groans, and you… You have just enough time to fall back to seat before his mouth is upon you.

The way he claims you with his tongue makes the wait worth it. Scott isn’t shy about feasting on you, his wet fingers slipping to spread your thighs further apart for him, lapping at you like your pussy is a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Every swirl of his tongue, every flick against your clit, every long drag that has you gasping for breath, your mouth falling open while he readjusts his grip to keep you steady.

Scott groans as he collects your desire on his tongue, pulling back enough to revel at how spread open you are for him. He spits, the lewd action making your head spin, before his fingers rub it through your folds, circling your entrance while his other reaches up to knead your breast.

“I wish we had hours for this.” The admission is low in his voice, ragged from claiming you, pressing a kiss to your thigh as you try to still your hips against his torturous fingers. “Just as sweet as I remember, honey. Better. Fuck, you taste so…”

He doesn’t finish his thought, descending upon you again as his mouth attaches to your clit. You cry out at the special attention he gives it, teasing you just right, his tongue swirling and flicking and lips closing around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips move on their own accord, fingers digging into his brown curls as you grind in time with his tongue. Scott gasps as his touch abandons you to stroke himself, the angle uncomfortable in the cramped space of his backseat.

You clamp down on your bottom lip when your orgasm builds faster than you expect it to, hoping to stifle the increase of noise as he brings you closer and closer. Scott just keeps his brutal pace, those dark blue eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“Sir—” Your breath comes out hot when he groans, the vibrations of it nearly toppling you over the edge. You want so desperately to listen, fighting the way he coaxes it quicker, something heady and mischievous sparkling in those eyes, but it’s too much, he’s too much, that invisible rubber band pulling tighter and tighter, your control slipping, the wet sounds of his tongue dragging over your heat too much to bear—

You scream out as Scott pulls away entirely from you, all that tension coiling tight with nowhere to release, and watch helplessly as his expression flickers somewhere between smug and disappointed. You tremble against the loss, little twitches that give away how close you were from disobedience, your whine high and keening.

“Oh, honey, were you close?” Scott coos, his tone full of condescension as he rests his cheek on your thigh, an evil, wicked, vile grin teasing the corners of his mouth. You glare at the dimple in his cheek. “You think I’m dumb enough to not know when you are? That your pussy doesn’t tell me when you’re trying to be quiet? I know all your tells, honey. Every. Single. One.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his palm coming down hard against your open heat. The slap has you spiraling, a cry escaping you as your back arches up off the leather, the pain lingering uncomfortably as your ass grinds against the seat. Scott wastes no time crawling up your body, swallowing all your pitiful noises as you taste yourself on his tongue.

His teeth sink into your bottom lip as he pulls away. “Not tonight, honey.”

Your heart seizes in your chest at the confirmation — having suspected it, but half-hoping that he’d forgive your past sins if you were good enough. Scott just grins, lifting so all his weight isn’t settled atop you, running his hands down the still-twitching frame of your body, pushing his jeans down further as one hand drags along your hip.

“Please?” You beg, taking his face in your hands, blinking big doe eyes up at him. “I can’t—”

“You can.” His confidence in you is unwavering, pausing his movements to give you his undivided attention. One kiss, two, three, to the corner of your mouth, each softer than the last, bringing you down from a high he stole away. “We’ll test those limits properly another time. I have so many ideas…” He trails off with a groan, seeming to think better of listing all the ways he could make you bend to his will. “But you can. And you will.”

A whimper escapes at the finality, but you manage a weak nod. It’s all the encouragement Scott needs to draw your leg around his hip, slotting himself between your parted legs. The weight of him dragging through your slicked folds presses a gasp into his shoulder, your arms sliding around his broad frame.

And then he’s sinking into you, stealing the breath from your lungs as your taut body stretches to accommodate his size.

He’s massive — and delicious and throbbing and every other perfect word in the dictionary as you forget how to breathe, how to think, the more he buries himself inside you. You hear his strangled moan against your neck as your head tosses back, pulling him closer, hissing as he draws back just to press right back into you.

He works you just like that for what feels like hours, pushing and pulling, slow as he presses kisses to your skin, holding your hips steady. You know he’s holding himself back, that he’s letting your body get used to him after so long apart, after little more than a press of his fingers and tongue at your entrance. It makes your heart flutter in your chest — he could have fucked his way ruthlessly through you and you would’ve taken every second of it just the same, but the fact that he pauses to take his time now, to lengthen a moment that he shouldn’t be having in the first place…

God. You loved him.

You both moan as he bottoms out inside you, his hips driving forward just a little further on instinct. “Fucking missed this,” Scott pants, careful as he slides a palm under you, lifting your ass off the seat to thrust inside you again. Your gentle touch trails across his broad shoulders and down his arms, a silent message for him to keep going.

And then he fucks you like he promised.

It’s a combination of everything: the time apart, the time you had left, how neither of you could seem to get close enough to each other. He splits you apart and brings you back together with every snap of his hips, filling you exactly how you need, gasping against each other as you angle up to meet him halfway.

Your mouth presses feverishly to his, the sound of your desperate moans filling the small space against the way your body greedily accepts his. Scott stalls his tempo just enough to pull away, sliding his hands back to your hips to lift you onto him before returning to his brutal pace, the new angle giving you a perfect view of his cock stretching you out.

“Being so good for me,” Scott hums, pleased, his fingers splaying over your belly as he ruts deeper into you. The intensity of it, of him, makes you blink back stars as his heady gaze is trained on yours, grabbing onto him as he continues, “Feels so fucking good, honey, fuck.“

Your eyes slip down to watch as he slides in you, the sight of him hard and coated with your arousal making you moan. Scott grips the back of your neck to keep you there, your body curled up into whatever mold he desires, pressing your knee back to the cushion as he shifts himself closer.

“Dirty fucking girl, you like that?” Scott’s voice turns guttural with how you tighten around him, your pretty moans like music to his ears, “Like watching your little pussy take my cock? Seeing how fucking good I stretch you out?”

You nod, another moan spilling from your mouth, only to whimper when he slides fully out of you. The crude smack of his cock against your clit only makes you hotter, your skin on fire as he plays with you, always in control. “Tell me,” he groans, teasing as he grinds himself against you. “Let me hear you, honey.”

“I love it,” you pant, unable to tear your gaze away from his thick length. You want desperately to reach down and press him where you crave him most, but you resist, fingers curling into fists at his sides as you plead, “Please fill me up, sir, I need it. Need you to fuck me, need you to claim me, need you to make this little pussy all fucking yours, please.”

It’s all Scott needs to press into you again, his pace hard and demanding with your wishes. He slides an arm underneath you to hold you steady, his teeth leaving marks on your neck, your shoulder, your collar, pressing moans into your skin with every rough piston of his hips, the sound of skin on skin, and your hard, labored breathing filling the space. And then he’s flipping you over, your hands and knees pressing into the leather as you push back against him, delirious with the new angle as he tugs you up, your back to his chest.

The possessive, strong grip on your waist slides up to knead your breast while he thrusts into you from behind, his lips at your ear, growling every profanity under the sun.

“This what you want, honey?” His hips snap hard into you, the contact against your sensitive ass making your eyes roll back into your head. The mix of the pleasure and the pain he gives you is unlike anything else you’ve ever felt. Scott always finds the perfect balance, his hand sliding between your thighs to tease your clit, your body wanton against him. “Being claimed? Owning you completely?” At your answering moan, he grins. “Could you handle it? Being mine in every way?”

“Yes,” you moan, trying in vain not to swirl your hips and failing, searching for more while he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I’m already yours, sir.”

“Yeah, honey, I feel it.” They come out strangled as you clench around him, your body responding eagerly to every touch. “So sweet right now, aren’t you? Wanna cum so badly, don’t you?” You whimper out as he angles himself deeper inside you, hitting that spongey spot in time with his ministrations. It’s hard to breathe, hard to think, as he finds the perfect pace to drive you closer to the edge, dangling just on the precipice of release. “Bet you’d agree to anything right now just to cum, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Head tossing back against his shoulder, you dig your nails into his jeans where you hold him to you, looking at but not seeing the reflection of how he commands you, his mouth drawing along your neck. “Please,” you beg, trembling with the exertion of holding yourself together. “Scott— Sir, please, I’m so close—”

“I know.” Cooed, mockingly, along the column of your throat, he ceases every torturous move as he stills inside of you, his hands quick to press your hips down against his. The sudden lack of attention makes you cry out, chest heaving, as he steals your orgasm away again, the frustration and desire mixing until you’re growling through clenched teeth.

Scott just grins, watching it all with a gleeful expression, that dark look swirling in his eyes as he doesn’t dare move an inch. “You can be as nice as you want, honey,” He presses a patronizing kiss to your shoulder, that alone having you twitching against him, small little sounds that you can’t control escaping as he toys with your fraying edges. “I’m still not letting you cum tonight.”

“But—” You think better against talking back, clamping your mouth shut as you whimper again. “When?”

“When you’ve earned it.” Scott slides his hands over your body, dragging along your peaked nipples, taking both breasts in his large hands and groaning as he touches you. “You want to earn it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasp automatically, your hands fisting handfuls of his brown locks as he sucks another possessive mark on you. “Please, sir.”

“How far would you go?” His voice carries that inquisitive tone that speaks of danger, the kind that has your cunt fluttering around him in response. He grunts against you at the sensation, still unmoving, just thick and hard and throbbing in you enough to leave your mind reeling. Your breath stalls when his touch wanders down to press at your belly. “Would you let me cum inside you?”

Every thought in your brain scatters at those words, wanting and needing before you can even voice it. He’s never asked; always pulling out to paint your chest, your back, your face. But the way he asks, his voice quiet yet desperate, the unmistakable edge to it that tells you he’s been thinking about it for a while, waiting for the right time, the right moment — suddenly his insistence on if you’d brought your birth control comes to the front of your mind, and you know. Know he’s been planning this. That if it weren’t here, it would’ve been sometime this weekend.

Scott is patient as he lets it all sink in, studying you, waiting for a shift of an expression, or your body responding against his desires. Something dark awakens in him at your whimper of approval.

“You’d look so fucking pretty like that,” he continues, slowly resuming his pace, much slower now than it was before, as he groans every fantasy he’s dreamt of for the past week into you. “So full of my cum… It wouldn’t all fit, would it, honey? But you’d beg me, wouldn’t you? Beg me to fuck it deeper in your sweet cunt?” Your breath labors as he grunts out, teeth sinking into your skin. “Beg me to put a baby in you?”

Fuck, yes.

You writhe against him with every word out of his mouth, your moans spilling freely as you nod, desperate, agreeable, unaware of how much he wanted it, obsessed about it. How the sight of you in his clothes made him want to put a ring on your finger, how every time you came over to his place he had to fight to ask you to move in, how the idea of your belly swollen with his child made him so horny he couldn’t think about anything else some days, how the thought of you and forever were so intertwined to him now that he couldn’t imagine anyone else to spend the rest of his life with.

All sappy, sentimental things that he didn’t dare voice, locked tight between his teeth, letting only a little spill out.

The need to own you, to claim you, was overwhelming. Scott wanted nothing more than to fuck you hard enough to make your brain flicker off until you couldn’t even speak, until you were completely at his mercy, until every drop of him was spent inside you. Possession and desire bleed into one — just waiting, aching, throbbing, bruisingly so, for your voiced consent.

“I need it,” you finally choke out, trembling, your voice utterly broken. “Please give it to me, sir? Please, please, pretty please?”

Scott moans, long and deep and loud, as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. And then he’s pounding into you, every muscle of his body pulled tight as you wrap around him like velvet perfection, his grip hard and unyielding against your hips as every rough slam of his hips into yours sends your body jolting forward. Your hand slaps to the window in front of you, leaving prints against the foggy glass, and he follows greedily, pressing his weight into you as he spreads your thighs further apart with a growl, fucking you into the seats.

Your orgasm painfully lingers, every needy moan spilling from your mouth only driving him further into you, wild with need, no longer the controlled man you knew but something more animalistic, primal.

“Fucking take it just like that,” he growls, not even sounding human, every word gritted through his teeth as you feel every thick inch of him around your slick walls, his hand slotted between your thighs to part your folds, sinking deeper until there’s no space left. “F-fuck, that’s so fucking— Perfect, honey, fuck— Pussy’s fucking made for me—”

He’s close — you can feel it in the way his thrusts grow uneven as he chases his release, the way he roughly grasps your chin to kiss you, sloppy and more tongue than lips, how his fingers leave Scott-shaped bruises wherever he grips you, his blunt nails biting into your hip, your sides, your breasts as he struggles for purchase. You don’t realize you’re sobbing in pleasure until he wipes your tears away, until he praises how good you’re being taking him like this, groaning when your body responds eagerly to his positivity.

You dance in time with him, meeting him halfway, angling your hips up just right. And you feel, rather than hear, the way Scott moans in ecstasy as he finds that perfect spot in your heat, numb to anything and everything that isn’t his thick cock pounding your weeping, used hole.

You think you cum — or maybe it’s just the last shreds of sanity leaving as Scott reaches his peak, nothing but your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you with his seed, rutting up against you until it’s painful, the warmth of him spreading into you. His heart pounds against you as he slips his hand to your belly, pressing you closer, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as his hips twitch until he’s emptied out, fucking the last drops of his cum into you exactly like he’s dreamt.

And when you come down your orgasm sits uncomfortably high and untouched, a broken sob escaping you as he pulls out with a wet pop.

You feel his cum slide down your swollen cunt and flinch with sensitivity as he’s quick to collect himself on his fingers, fucking it back into you. The tension coils tightly inside of you until you’re sure you’re begging him to stop, the pleasure and pain completely overwhelming, exhausted with the effort of obeying his orders as he presses his digits into your used hole.

When you think just about to break, he stops.

And you know you’re going to kill him as he steals your release for a third time.

“Good girl,” Scott whispers, pressing kisses along your soft skin, his hands soothing every part of your twitching frame. You don’t have the strength to ask for more as he pulls you into his arms after sliding your panties back into place, letting you come down as he finds his peace in caring for you, murmuring sweet nothings while your body is pliant against him.

You nuzzle into him when you feel more in control of yourself, your heart slowing to a more steady pace. His name falls softly from your lips, your arms snaking around him to hold him close, his fingertips soft along the small of your back.

When he presses his mouth to yours, you melt into his embrace, exploring him lazily until he’s pulling away, brushing your unruly hair out of your face. “Mine.” He praises with a smile, that dark expression gone, leaving nothing but bright, shining blues you could drown in for hours. “All fucking mine. I own you.”

“Mmm,” Despite the weary in your bones, you can’t help but smile back, a giggle escaping, “Do you?”

Scott doesn’t need to slip his hand between your legs for you to get the picture, just hooks a finger along the waistband of your ruined panties. “You just let me prove it, honey.” He leans forward to kiss you again, slower this time, before pulling away with a regretful sigh when the distinctive chime of his phone goes off. “Need help getting back in your seat?”

“Already?” You whine.

“Gotta go, honey.” He taps your hip, twice. Non-negotiable. “Come on, before the bears smell you and want you for themselves.”

That has you cracking a grin. “You wouldn’t fight a bear for me?”

“What do you think the murder kit is for?” One last kiss to your mouth. “’Course I would. Just not tonight.”

You pout further, but let him grab your long-forgotten clothes off the floor, making yourself presentable again before he does the same. And when you settle back into the passenger seat as he starts the engine, you let your head rest against the window, bubbly and content and happy. Even if you know it won’t last when he has to leave.

As Scott drives through the familiar city streets, you hate the knot of apprehension that clogs your throat when your mind wanders too far about him being gone. Out on the field, anything could happen, even if it was just one of his routine visits. The people he spoke with — if he approached the wrong one, it would be so easy for them to lash out. Scott was a big man, he could take care of himself, but that didn’t stop your fears from pressing down against you.

His hand is firm on your thigh, thumb stroking soft lines in your skin as he catches your expression. And then his truck takes a turn in the opposite direction of your apartment, heading toward his house.

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion as you try to shake off your emotions.

Scott’s grip on the steering wheel tightens just a fraction, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “My place,” he answers simply. “You’ve been up all night, and I’m not about to drop you off and leave you alone like that.”

You frown, the earlier emotions fighting to come back; you glance quickly out the window, cheeks flaming as you’re caught, hating that he’d noticed your weakness. “I’m fine, Scott. I can—”

“No,” he cuts in gently, but firmly. “You need rest. And I’ll rest better knowing you’re somewhere comfortable.” His eyes flick toward you, catching your reflection in the dim light of the street lamps. “Besides,” he adds, his voice lowering to something more intimate, “I’ve got a bed that’s been missing you.”

It’s not a request, and the way he says it makes your heart skip. You know he’s right. As much as you’d wanted to protest, the thought of sleeping alone in your own bed feels wrong, especially with the lingering warmth of his touch still buzzing under your skin.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the familiar sight of his place is almost a comfort in itself. Scott’s fingers brush over your thigh before he parks the truck, a silent reassurance. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he murmurs, shutting off the engine, “but I want you here. I want you safe.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with a meaning he’s too stubborn to say out loud, but you feel it all the same. He reaches over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your cheek. “Let me make sure you’re okay.”

You nod, unable to find the words, so you just lean into his touch. Scott doesn’t need more than that. He’s out of the truck and rounding it to your side before you can even blink, opening your door and offering his hand.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he says softly, tugging you out and pulling you close against him. His arm slips around your waist as he guides you to the front door, his hold steady and reassuring.

Once inside, the warmth of his home envelops you both, and you feel the tension in your shoulders start to melt away. He’s quick to guide you to his bedroom, knowing the layout of his place better than anyone, but still taking the time to make sure you’re comfortable, handing you one of his shirts to sleep in.

As you slip under the covers, Scott pauses at the edge of the bed, eyes lingering on you. “Get some sleep,” he tells you, his voice gruff but tinged with affection. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You reach for him, and he doesn’t hesitate to slide in beside you, pulling you against his chest. For a moment, you both just lie there, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothing you into a drowsy haze. Scott presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively over your hip.

“Sleep, honey,” he murmurs, his voice the last thing you hear before sleep claims you.

In the morning, you wake to the sound of his alarm, the room still dark. Scott’s already dressed, but he hasn’t left yet. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a softness in his eyes that he rarely lets show. He reaches out, brushing his fingers through your hair as you try to rustle yourself awake.

“Go back to sleep,” he says quietly, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I’ll be back in a few days. Promise.”

Before you can respond, he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his lips. You smile, eyes fluttering shut as you drift back into a peaceful slumber, the last thing you feel is the comforting weight of his hand slipping from yours.

When you finally rise, well rested but achey from the night’s exertions, the sun is high in the afternoon sky and his house is empty, his truck missing from the garage. You wander into the kitchen in search of a cup of tea, pulling the kettle out from underneath his cabinet. And when the steaming mug is in your hands, settling into the breakfast nook that overlooks his backyard, your eyes fall upon his jacket, folded neatly atop all the stuff he’d unpacked while you were sleeping.

And you know he loves you as much as you love him.

[merrock]

event: Emergency Services Carnival

location: Town Hall & Cityview Park

date & time: June 29 - July 6, 2024

ooc duration: same dates!

Once a year, we throw a carnival in town to raise money for our emergency services, so the next time that you dial 911 due to a medical emergency or a fire breaking out, or a cat stuck in a tree (it happens, we know), the best of the best has the resources that they need to get out and help you to the best of their ability.

Located downtown, in the vicinity of the Cityview Park and Town Hall, a main stretch of road has been closed and the street cleared so that tents and trucks can set up for the week, happy to provide you with eats and treats! You can spend time enjoying the park, or go 'touch a truck' and meet the ambulance workers and firefighters of Merrock as they show off their stations, as well.

For food, you can expect all of the carnival staples: pizza, hot dogs, cheeseburgers, fresh cut French fries, a number of hot sandwiches, homemade soups, hot pretzels, nachos and cheese and so much more! If you want something dessert-y, reach for cotton candy, sno*cones, homemade ice cream and milkshakes, funnel cakes, churros and lots of candy sweets.

All of your favorite games are ready to go! There's the ring toss, where you can win a glass bottle of soda, the duck pond, balloon pop, frog pond, ball toss, lucky wheel and more! Great opportunity to win that special someone a prize. There are also a few rides set up for you to enjoy: the carousel, tilt-a-whirl and ferris wheel and mini-train are at your service! And before you head home, don't forget to pay to toss a few balls at the dunk tank, see if you can knock your favorite firefighter or EMT or other prominent town figure off their mark.

Performances for the week include: local band on Saturday, 80s cover band on Sunday, Unknown Destination on Monday, country band on Tuesday, classic rock band on Wednesday, local band on Thursday, Chetan Gupta on Friday, 90s and 00s cover band on Saturday.

On July 4th, at dusk, we will be having fireworks to celebrate the 4th of July!

[ssukidesu]

Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 1]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 1: Arrival

Many would call Kagome Higurashi strange for choosing to walk the final half mile of her journey to Jidai-Ju Hall. These people, however, would be mistaken; given the comparative barrenness of her previous station’s ethos and locale, Kagome would be strange not to take full advantage of the fresh, crisp air and mystical scenery of the woodland road that led her to her new situation.

Her boots were supported by soft earth, its pliancy a pleasant change from the harsh bump and jostle of the rickety carriage. The golden leaves were beginning to lose their vibrancy and grip. Her bags having been left in the carriage for separate arrival, her unburdened hands sought any falling leaves that came close enough to reach. After catching one, Kagome would hold and chafe it until the next floated down and offered itself as a replacement. 

Passing by a small pond, Kagome felt her steps falter. Its still water appeared solid black in its autumnal decay, but it’s surface broke with acute rings wherever a secret fish, tadpole, or fly disturbed it. She knelt as close as she could, the forsaken road only a couple of yards behind her now, and pulled her small sketchbook from her satchel. The pencil was nearly exhausted, but it persisted long enough for a crude sketch of the scene to concretize on the page. 

Continuing her way, Kagome juxtaposed it in her mind with the only other pond she knew—the similarly blighted one from her aunt’s home, which had frightened her so strongly she would never walk by it alone if she could help it. She supposed she had her cousin to thank for that particular superstition, his snarling caution of water monsters having enraptured her young mind with ease.

But Kagome was no longer a little girl; she knew better now. She had learned in the decade since that a pond’s most frightening monster was almost always only a snake, and if not that, then it was your own reflection that peered wickedly back at you. 

When the thicket finally broke, it was nearly dusk. But Kagome did not notice; her attention instead fell onto the grand wonder of Jidai-Ju Manor, which stood atop a strong hill and stretched its aged stones tall and wide. Faint glimmerings within the windows were the only signs of life. It was beautiful, and frightening. Her pulse livened, and she trudged up the long set of steps leading to what the house’s symmetry declared was the main entrance. The door doubled her height. It had no windows—only a large, bronze door knocker shaped in the image of a dog. She gripped and clapped it against the wood three loud times.

A moment later, the door opened slowly to reveal an old woman in common but stately dress. She was shorter than Kagome, round about the middle, and grayed. But sweetness softened her otherwise decrepit appearance.

She spoke first, her voice raspy: “Good evening. You must be Miss Higurashi. Please, do come in. I am Kaede.”

Kagome obeyed. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My things have already arrived, I hope?”

“Yes—they’ve been transported to your room already.”

“Thank you very much, Lady Kaede.”

Kagome tried to keep her wandering gaze subtle, but she couldn’t help the awe that had taken hold of her expression. The entryway alone stunned her for its vintage furnishings and ancient architecture. The question left her lips without her consent: “How old is this house?”

Her host chuckled at her obvious appreciation. “This manor was built nearly two hundred years ago. The property, however, has been in the possession of the Taisho family for over five hundred.”

“Five hundred!” Kagome encored in disbelief. “This country hasn’t even been founded for that long. Stranger still, I’ve never heard of the Taisho family.”

“Oh, they are indeed older than the country itself. But I’m afraid theirs is a waning glory; only one member is left living: our own master Inuyasha.”

“How can that be?”

“Well, I’m sure you know of the hostility our previous two Kings had with the demonic lords, starting with King Byron III’s coronation a century ago. The Taisho clan fortunately managed to defeat any of the king’s knights who tried taking the estate, but the conflict revealed fractures within the family, and many were scattered as a result; other carriers of the bloodline likely exist, but they were cut off from the family as punishment for their desertion, or so the story goes. Only the family’s primary vein remained after the initial dispute settled and the king stopped sending knights: Lord Touga, his Lady wife, and their son, Lord Sesshomaru. They were a proud family,” Kaede paused to unlock the door they’d reached—that of Kagome’s quarters, she guessed. The woman continued, “But pride, you know, is not a replacement for happiness. The patriarch did something unheard of in the Taisho family: about four decades after the family’s scattering, he fell in love with a human mistress and sired a bastard son.”

Half distracted by the story, the room still managed to surprise Kagome with its simplicity. But it was lovely nonetheless; a fire crackled in the fireplace, and the bed was prepared with clean sheets.

Kaede concluded, “Around that time, which was about sixty years ago, my own mother was the manager here. But the family charged her with strict secrecy, even to her own daughter. And you never gamble against the hearing of dog demons!” she joked, though Kagome found her words anything but funny. 

She went on: “The result is that I’ve no knowledge of the details of the affair or its subsequent conflicts, or even the fate of Lord Inuyasha’s mother. But I am familiar with the conflicts of the last four decades since my becoming the manager—the largest ones being what happened about twenty five years ago when King Byron IV came to power: in a fit of trying to accomplish what his father failed to, the king charged Lord Taisho with rebellious conspiracy—an accusation whose accuracy I cannot judge even now—and he was executed. A few years later, a little before the king’s assassination, Lord Sesshomaru received the same fate after failing to convince the royal family of his allegiance. 

“The property came to Lord Inuyasha—who was not even living at Jidai-Ju at the time—despite his illegitimacy. Lord Taisho’s wife had already left the estate by then; the property would have come to her, but she had settled a deal with Lord Taisho in which she forsook all rights of wifehood for the sake of emancipation. The pair had not been happy for ages, as you could have guessed.”

“Why was Lord Inuyasha spared from the king’s suspicion?” asked Kagome.

Kaede’s look grew grim. “That is something that I’ve never had the courage to ask. I have my hypothesis—but it would be out of my place to suggest it.”

Kagome’s head reeled from the information. Having never before seen a demon, she tried to imagine what each character in the tale looked like—but to no avail. What are the characteristics of a dog demon? They seem to live quite lengthy lives, but if Lord Inuyasha is half human, what is his appearance at sixty years of age? 

But more than anything, Kagome wondered about his character. What sort of master has she obtained? She sought Kaede for comfort: “And how do you feel about him—Lord Inuyasha? What sort of master is he?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly content with his ownership. He is much less severe than Lord Sesshomaru would have been, at least. He is hardly here at all, in the first place; indeed, it may be months before you meet him. When he is here, he has his fits of ferocity, but that is to be expected. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.”

Kagome did, in fact, wish that she would explain why, but she thought her divulging had already been generous enough. Instead, she changed the conversation to a different vein of curiosity. “When am I to meet my pupil?”

Kaede seemed to purge herself of her own distracted mind. “Ah, yes—he has already been put to bed for tonight. You can meet him in the morning. You can also choose to begin instruction whenever you see fit.”

“I would prefer to begin as soon as possible, Lady Kaede—for my residence in this beautiful home would feel unjust without my prerequisite service.”

Lady Kaede smiled. “Very well, then.”

Following an episode of small talk, the old woman left Kagome to herself to settle for bed. She had few things to unpack; the drawers still wanted for filling, and the vanity housed only a horsehair brush, a couple of simple brooches, and even simpler hairpins. 

By the time Kagome settled beneath the sheets, the night had fully come, and with it came the realization of her own exhaustion. Her body settled in a tight ball, the fire having not yet heated the room enough for comfort, and she began to drift off.

As sleep began to grip her, the faint sound of creaking wood above went unnoticed, as did a distant voice whose murmurings were too soft and far to distinguish it from mere whispers of the wind.

[retphienix]

My newest guy had the saddest and most drawn out death imaginable.

He spawned in a police station and immediately decked himself out with guns, nightsticks, and some good clothing- but zero food or water holding tools of any kind. (worth noting this world has been going on a while, so free resources like water and power aren't a thing, rotten food a plenty, so things can be rough)

So, with zombies on his ass, he took a drink from the nearest working water source, and began walking.

All in all, felt pretty confident. Guns weren't of much use to me for a long while, but I had some nice clothing for the time of year and even a free duffel bag.

Then I noticed just how many zombies had my exits blocked.

And my only option became walking to the nearest wooded area because I was so infested and had too much aggro.

But hey, that's not too bad, this character is LITERALLY meant for the woods, that's what I made him for! He's a foraging outdoorsy type whom I made to try building up in the woods- no big deal at all :D

But uh, the longer I walked, the more doomed this started to feel. The woods, for some ungodly reason, were CRAWLING with zombies, just one for every tree, that was new, so I kept walking.

Then I started getting thirsty.

Then I started realizing I have literally no idea where I'll get my next drink.

No bottles or pots or anything to hold water (or rain), no water sources, no buildings, like, anywhere. I could circle back to where I began which would work, perhaps I should have, but the forest between me and that zombie infested zone is just another zombie infested zone and I'm working with a couple nightsticks, low endurance, and guns (the death sentence that'd be).

I figured the smarter play was to push forward- find something new to explore rather than relying on what I already knew was dense with zombies.

Well. Keep walking. I found a path, it has to lead SOMEWHERE.

It didn't.

My health draining, I begin to wonder what kind of sick joke I'm living through. This road lead to a dirt path which lead to a pseudo path which all lead to nothing.

I eventually found SOMETHING near the path, but it was a half shed with concrete bags and more zombies for the congo line. At least the trees mean I can cut off this trail whenever I want, but with no goal that didn't hold much value just yet, better to just let the zombies follow and cut line of sight when it mattered.

Eventually I came to accept that this would be my first character to die of thirst.

The silly guy forgot to drink water, HA!

But then I found an emergency source, a pond with some delicious tainted water to engorge myself with, thank you oh blessed stagnant water.

Lookin' good. Soon to be ill, highly critical health, no sleep in over 24 hours, zombies surrounding me, but most importantly, no real goal location that can be reached safely when my character is so banged up already from his thirst. No real energy to kill more than one zombie, so pickin' is slim.

But when the world starts givin' it keeps givin'. A water bottle in a trunk, a quick stop to a nearby house for some actual fresh water, and a close eye glued to my slowly draining health.

Maybe I'll hole up for the night and recover? BANG, seems not, the horde I thought I gave the slip caught a glimpse of me and were on the house, back to the walkin'.

But that didn't go the greatest. I wasn't mauled, I'm not a zombie, but I stayed dehydrated for so long that I was simply too weak to claw my way back to survival.

The killer gag to this sad folk's tale is that map. He. Literally. Walked a circle. And died (effectively) of thirst.

The poor son of a bitch.

[litrvluxurytravel]

Amenities That Define Luxury Motorcoach Resorts

When it comes to luxury motorcoach resorts, the experience extends far beyond simply having a place to park your RV. These high-end establishments offer a wide array of amenities designed to provide comfort, convenience, and a touch of opulence. Here’s a detailed look at the amenities that define luxury motorcoach resorts.

Spacious and Scenic Sites

One of the hallmarks of a luxury motorcoach resort is the spaciousness and aesthetic appeal of its sites. These resorts often feature large, private lots that provide ample space for slide-outs and outdoor living areas. Landscaped surroundings with manicured lawns, gardens, and scenic views add to the overall ambiance, making each site feel like a private retreat.

High-End Hookups

Luxury motorcoach resorts provide full-service hookups with all the amenities needed to ensure a comfortable stay. This includes high-capacity power connections (usually 50 amps or more), fresh water, and sewage connections. Additionally, many resorts offer cable or satellite TV and high-speed Wi-Fi, ensuring guests have all the modern conveniences of home.

Resort-Style Pools and Spas

Swimming pools and spa facilities at luxury motorcoach resorts are designed to rival those of high-end hotels. Guests can enjoy multiple heated swimming pools, hot tubs, saunas, and sometimes even private cabanas. These areas often feature elegant design elements and comfortable lounge furniture, providing a relaxing oasis for guests.

Clubhouses and Social Areas

Clubhouses are the social hubs of luxury motorcoach resorts. These elegant spaces often include lounges with comfortable seating, libraries stocked with books and games, game rooms with pool tables and other entertainment options, and communal kitchens for socializing and hosting events. These areas provide a welcoming environment for guests to mingle and build a sense of community.

Fitness Centers

For those who like to stay active while on the road, luxury motorcoach resorts offer state-of-the-art fitness centers. These facilities often include a variety of exercise equipment, yoga studios, and sometimes even personal trainers or fitness classes. Whether you prefer cardio, strength training, or yoga, these fitness centers cater to all workout preferences.

On-Site Dining Options

Gourmet dining is a key feature of many luxury motorcoach resorts. On-site restaurants, cafés, and bars provide a variety of dining options, from casual meals to fine dining experiences. Room service is also often available, allowing guests to enjoy delicious meals without leaving the comfort of their RV.

Recreational Facilities

Luxury motorcoach resorts offer a wide range of recreational facilities to keep guests entertained. This can include golf courses, tennis courts, pickleball courts, hiking and biking trails, fishing ponds, and boating facilities. These amenities provide opportunities for guests to engage in their favorite hobbies and explore the great outdoors.

Pet Amenities

For guests traveling with pets, luxury motorcoach resorts often provide specialized amenities to ensure their furry friends are comfortable as well. This can include dog parks, pet washing stations, and sometimes even pet sitting or grooming services. These amenities make it easy for guests to care for their pets while enjoying their stay.

Concierge Services

Personalized concierge services are a staple of luxury motorcoach resorts. The concierge team can assist with making reservations, planning activities, and providing recommendations for local attractions. This high level of service ensures that guests have a seamless and enjoyable experience from start to finish.

Luxury Bathhouses and Laundry

Upscale bathhouses and laundry facilities are another key feature of luxury motorcoach resorts. Bathhouses often include private showers with high-end fixtures, while laundry facilities are equipped with top-of-the-line washers and dryers. These amenities provide the comfort and convenience of home while on the road.

Business Centers

For those who need to stay connected for work, luxury motorcoach resorts often feature fully equipped business centers. These centers typically include meeting rooms, high-speed internet, printers, and other office essentials. This makes it easy for guests to take care of business while enjoying their stay.

Security and Privacy

Safety and privacy are top priorities at luxury motorcoach resorts. Gated access, 24-hour security, and surveillance ensure a secure environment for all guests. Additionally, the private and spacious nature of the sites provides a sense of seclusion and tranquility.

Event Spaces

Many luxury motorcoach resorts offer event spaces for weddings, conferences, and other special occasions. These venues often come with catering services and event planning assistance, making it easy to host a memorable event in a beautiful setting.

Maintenance and Support

To ensure that guests have a hassle-free stay, luxury motorcoach resorts typically provide on-site maintenance teams. These professionals can assist with RV repairs, detailing services, and technical support. This level of service ensures that any issues are quickly and efficiently addressed.

In summary, the amenities offered by luxury motorcoach resorts go above and beyond to provide an exceptional experience for their guests. From spacious and scenic sites to high-end recreational facilities and personalized concierge services, these resorts are designed to offer the ultimate in comfort and convenience. Whether you're a seasoned RV traveler or new to the lifestyle, a stay at a luxury motorcoach resort is sure to be a memorable and enjoyable experience.

[homeleaderrealty2]

Tricycle Condos

Tricycle Condos: Your Toronto Oasis

If you're in the market for a new place to call home in Toronto, look no further than Tricycle Condos. Nestled on Markham Road, this exciting new condo project by Lash Group is the epitome of convenience and modern living. With its proximity to the University of Toronto, easy access to the highway, shopping, delectable dining options, schools, and so much more, Tricycle Condos promises to be the ultimate urban haven you've been dreaming of.

Discover Tricycle Condos

Tricycle Condominiums is set to impress with a total of 380 units spread across an impressive 39 stories. But it's not just the height that sets it apart; it's the lifestyle it offers. Let's take a closer look at what you can expect from your new home.

Unparalleled Building Amenities

At Tricycle Condos, residents are treated to a world of luxury and comfort. The executive lobby welcomes you with open arms, featuring a cozy seating area and a coffee bar. It's the perfect place to meet your neighbors or unwind after a long day.

If you're into staying active and healthy, you'll be thrilled to know that Tricycle Condos boasts a fitness facility and a yoga studio. Say goodbye to expensive gym memberships and hello to a healthier you, just steps from your front door.

For those who love to entertain, the party room is a fantastic venue to host gatherings and special events. Whether it's a birthday celebration or a cozy get-together with friends, you'll have the perfect space to make memories.

Connect and Relax

One of the standout features of Tricycle Condos is the seventh-floor terrace. This lush oasis offers a serene escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Whether you want to soak up some sun with a good book or simply enjoy a breath of fresh air, this terrace has got you covered.

The courtyard pond and skating zone add a touch of whimsy to the community. Picture yourself gliding gracefully on the ice during the winter months or simply admiring the tranquil pond on a summer afternoon. It's the little things like this that make Tricycle Condos feel like a true sanctuary.

Location, Location, Location

They say real estate is all about location, and Tricycle Condos certainly delivers in this department. Situated in close proximity to transit options, shops, delectable restaurants, reputable schools, and picturesque parks, this condo project is a dream come true for urban dwellers.

If you're a commuter, you'll appreciate the easy access to Hwy 401, which allows you to hop onto the Don Valley Parkway in no time. Say goodbye to long, stressful commutes and hello to more quality time spent doing what you love.

Public transit options, including TTC and the GO station, are within arm's reach. This means you can effortlessly navigate the Greater Toronto Area without the hassle of traffic and parking. Whether you're heading downtown for work or exploring the city's vibrant neighborhoods, the convenience factor here is unbeatable.

Secure Your Tricycle Condo Today

Tricycle Condos is more than just a place to live; it's a lifestyle upgrade. With its impressive amenities, prime location, and modern design, it offers the perfect balance between urban convenience and relaxation.

Don't miss your chance to be a part of this exciting new community. Contact us today to learn more about available units, pricing, and how you can make Tricycle Condos your new home. Your dream condo in Toronto awaits, and we can't wait to welcome you to the Tricycle family.

Discover the Vibrant Neighborhood of Tricycle Condos

When it comes to finding your dream home, location is everything. At Tricycle Condos, we're proud to offer you not just a place to live but a lifestyle to embrace. Let's delve into the highlights of this incredible neighborhood where convenience meets community.

A Pedestrian's Paradise

Imagine living in a neighborhood where everything you need is just a few minutes' stroll away. Tricycle Condos is situated in a pedestrian-friendly haven, ensuring that nearly all your daily amenities are within easy reach. Whether it's grabbing your morning coffee, picking up groceries, or meeting friends for dinner, you'll love the convenience of living here.

Easy Access to Major Highways

For those who need to commute or simply love exploring the city, Tricycle Condos is strategically located near major highways. With Hwy 404, the Don Valley Parkway (DVP), and Hwy 401 in close proximity, you can quickly connect to any part of Toronto and beyond. Say goodbye to long, frustrating commutes and hello to more quality time doing what you love.

Retail Therapy at Scarborough Town Centre

Retail therapy is just a few minutes away! Tricycle Condos is a short walk from Scarborough Town Centre, a shopping paradise with a wide array of stores, boutiques, and dining options. Whether you're looking for the latest fashion trends or simply want to unwind with some window shopping, this mall has it all.

McCowan Station: Your Gateway to the City

Public transportation is a breeze with McCowan Station nearby. Whether you're commuting to work, exploring downtown Toronto, or simply want to avoid the hassle of driving, this subway station is your convenient gateway to the city.

A Hub of Convenience

Tricycle Condos is surrounded by a vibrant hub of convenience. From shops to eateries, schools to colleges, you'll find everything you need right at your doorstep. Running errands, grabbing a quick bite, or pursuing higher education has never been this effortless.

Education at Its Best

Education is a top priority for many families, and Tricycle Condos doesn't disappoint. We're proud to be located near Centennial College, ensuring that quality education is just a stone's throw away. Whether you're a student or a parent, you'll appreciate the proximity to this esteemed institution.

Adjacent to Academic Excellence

Speaking of education, Tricycle Condos is also adjacent to the prestigious University of Toronto – Scarborough Campus. Imagine living just steps away from a world-class institution. Whether you're pursuing higher education or simply want to soak in the academic atmosphere, this location is a student's dream.

Nature's Retreat

In the midst of urban living, it's essential to have pockets of nature to retreat to. Tricycle Condos is very close to several beautiful parks, including Botany Hill Park, Confederation Park, and Densgrove Park. These green spaces offer a serene escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Whether you want to take a leisurely stroll, have a picnic, or simply bask in the beauty of nature, these parks are your oasis.

Your Tricycle Condos Lifestyle Awaits

With these incredible highlights, Tricycle Condos is more than just a place to live; it's a lifestyle waiting to be embraced. Whether you're a professional seeking convenience, a family in search of excellent education options, or someone who values green spaces in the city, Tricycle Condos has it all.

Don't miss out on the opportunity to become a part of this vibrant community. Contact us today to learn more about available units, pricing, and how you can make Tricycle Condos your new home. Your dream condo in this fantastic neighborhood awaits, and we can't wait to welcome you to the Tricycle family.

[susanayaocheng]

Wondrous Milk Pond, etc. Part Two

Day 2 was an early Sunday morning taxi ride to LongShan Temple in the Bangka District.  This was the same temple that John and I visited thirteen years earlier (2010) to petition the mercy and graces of the Goddess of Kuan Yin to grant us a grandchild.  The temple was packed as usual, and it was so popular, we went back again another night before dinner.

Grand Hyatt Taipei  provides us buffet breakfast the menu of which was unchanged from day 2 to 6, so we usually hurriedly take our meal. They would put a 1-1/2 hour timer on tables, we then continue to chill and chat in the grand lobby before proceeding with our activity for the day.  Concurrent with our stay at the hotel was the 4-day state visit of the President of Columbia and his party who were billeted there,  so there was extra security all around the property.  Taxis were stationed in front of the hotel and readily available; we even had the same driver on two different days, plus a second one who knew all about us.

After the temple tour, we leisurely walked through the local streets on our way to Ximending,  stopping at convenience stores and drugstores to pick up essentials. The hotel stocked us generously with Balmain amenities, but we needed function and brand specific items and cool drinks.

On our food list was Ah Chong Misua (rice stringy noodle).   People just stood in the middle of the street, on the sidewalk, heartily enjoying this hot bowl of noodle. There were not enough chairs or tables. Ah Chong only sold noodle and is just a stall.

Heading out next on the agenda, by the way, because of the inclement weather, we did not go up to the 101 Observatory.  Besides, John and I did that already on our last trip. We picked up small foods because we had a dinner engagement. There were sideshows and performances to delight the Sunday crowd, and as the afternoon wore on, there were noticeably more people and vendors in anticipation of the night food/sundry market. I saw some macrame dream-catchers that were perfect for granddaughters, but again, the packing was going to be a problem. Without a line, I tried the grilled mochi with brown sugar and ground peanut.  Heavenly!  John and I shared a Xing Fu Tang brown sugar boba milk tea with a small bag of fried chicken ordered as a set that was so good.  The boba pearls are cooked on site every hour.

Our dinner that evening was in Shilin on Tianmu Road. The venue was the Golden Formosa Taiwanese Cuisine, casual family-oriented vibe and one Michelin star, known for their fried spare ribs. Delicious!

So good and excited to look forward to our third night dinner with long time friends from our Guam days. It was at a Shanghainese cuisine restaurant in Daan District, “Chez Yeh”, known for their delectable dishes such as smoked yellow fish.  We were enticed to order their blueberry cheesecake which was fantastic.  Catching up with friends and enjoying their company with good food and wine never gets old.

Friends sent us packs of goodies to bring home. We also loaded up on fresh fruits during our stay such as guava, wax apple, pineapple, and honey tangerines but could not bring them home.  Customs can be a pain.   The trip became too short, too little, and left us wanting to explore more the beauty, the friendships, the scenery, and good foods of Taipei and the cities beyond.  Hopefully, it will not take John and me another 13 years to go back.

[fearsome-series]

BOOK ONE

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

I killed him. I killed him. Oh God, I killed him.

Laura’s mind raced as she ran down the country highway, as she hid in trees to watch the cars flash redblueredblue at the hospital, watch them stream out of the buildings across the street. She crept alongside the side of the roads, flanked on all sides by empty land, by endless fields and distant farms and tiny thickets of trees. She waded in a small, dark pond. The hospital was behind her. In front of her, moonlit darkness and the lights of Elkhorn. She planned to avoid it.

No one was after her. At least, they didn’t know where she was. She ran north a bit before heading this way, and her ears told her that sirens had followed her tracks north. They’ll be back.

The cop shot her first. She held onto that. She hadn’t tried to hurt anyone, and she wouldn’t. But he was…he…

Farmland and prairie gave way to quiet home-lined streets. Laura crept through yards and over sidewalks, hoping no one saw her. Hoping she could find a way out.

Loud sirens. Screeching tires. Laura dived into a bush and hid. She didn’t need to look at the cop car as it passed. She made out the car’s radio so clearly - hearing a man say the officers should keep sweeping north. Good. The coast was clear.

She wished he’d have mentioned the man she attacked. Anything, she thought. Even…

Lights grew. The noxious scent of slick gas. The ding of a cash register. Grease and sizzling beef and deep frying and tires on pavement, feet on tile, honking, louder, louder, LOUDER- 

Laura dived out of the way in time to see a car screaming past her down the street. Oh God - she walked right into town. Right into a street, right in the center of town, at an intersection with a gas station and burger place on the corners. Gotta learn not to follow her nose.

Hungry. So hungry. Her hunger dominated her instincts, as if she needed to eat for a reason beyond just hunger, as if she needed a ton of energy. What for, she wondered? I’m a vegetarian, she told herself. A. Vegetarian. Don’t run off after meat because your dumb wolf brain’s telling you to. Resist your impulses. She’d seen Laika stick her leg in her own mouth - she knew that, no matter their other virtues, dogs were total dipshits.

She took cover on the sidewalk. Nothing to eat here. Her mind told her to hunt, but not to hunt people. Her mind was screaming at her to avoid people at all costs, not hurt them.

She might hurt a deer though.

Sorry.

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

“I hate closing,” said a twentysomething man leaning on a metal counter in the Burger King kitchen.

“Yeah?” said another man frying fries.

“It’s all drunks and weirdos,” he said.

“You thought you’d be serving a higher-end clientele at Burger King? You thought you were going to be facilitatin’ a My Dinner with Andre every night?”

He sighed. “I’m stuck in a loop. Like Jeanne Dielman.”

“Buddy,” said his co-worker, “I don’t think you really get the cinema of Chantal Aker-” He turned around, only to see Laura’s face, her wolfy, snouty, lupine face, fresh cooked burger patties in between her sharp, jagged, fangy teeth. He yelped and smashed the hot fly-flipper thing in between her eyes; Laura growled, pulled back, lopped her way over the linoleum and out the swinging door, into the back area with the dumpster, where another employee was smoking. He watched Laura as she leapt over a chainlink fence, but just stood there, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

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

Laura kept walking, sneaking around corners, letting chunks of burger patty fall out onto the sidewalk. When she saw someone in the distance, she’d hide. She felt more at home on her paws now. She thought she could get used to this, then reminded herself that her fumbling around may have left a man dead. God, Laura, she growled at herself. God.

Okay. He just fell over. He’s already in a hospital, and that’s the best place to get hurt. He’s fine. Has to be.

She hid behind a pair of thick pillars, looked out onto a large greenspace…

“Where is my daughter?” Mom! Heather’s familiar voice drifted down the street.

Laura followed the voice up the street, creeping past small stores locked up for the night, flags waving in the night time breeze; everywhere and everyone seemed to have a flag here, which would’ve made Laura nervous, if it wasn’t for her…her whatever this was. Werewolf! Werewolf! Were-

Her…whatever this was.

She saw a small store whose name, in big letters on the wall, said SOMEPLACE ELSE. I wish I was somewhere else too, she thought.

In a green area at the center of town, Laura noticed several people gathered around a pair of men. She hid behind a parked car, peeked out - though, she could already hear them…sense them…sense…mom? Dad?

“...it has been sighted in town,” said someone who looked like a cop, “and now we must take precautions.”

“What are you proposing? Are you deputizing us for private justice?” A man asked.

“It’s a wolf, Terry, and you can go home whenever you like. But with so many people over at the hospital, we’ll need to protect ourselves.”

“Have they said anything about my daughter?” Mom!

“Was she at the hospital? Uh, we haven’t really heard anything definitive yet, ma’am, they’re occupied with our colleague…”

“I’m sorry about your colleague, but why won’t you just tell me what happened to my daughter!?”

“Heath.” Dad.

“Ma’am…”

“Don’t,” dad said. “Heath, go back to the car. I’ll catch up to you.”

“You should really take this,” said another man.

“No, I’m not…I’m not carrying this, where did you even get this?”

“Hardware store.”

“Hardware…hardware store? They have these in hardware stores down here? I’ll - Heath, I’ll catch up in a second -”

“If you have no heart for the hunt,” said a man with a German accent, “please, depart from us.”

“Little intense, but - no, I’m not taking - are you hunting a brontosaurus later, why do you have this? How many of these do you have? I don’t - I’m fine.” Footsteps.

Mom was walking to the family car, past the town library, an old brick building covered in vines. Laura followed - started to move faster - it’s mom, right? She’ll recognize me, right? - she has to, she has to - mom pulled out her phone with one hand, rubbed her temples with the other, furious in a way Laura had never seen - she put down her phone, screamed into the void, slunk down on the library stairs.

“Why won’t anyone tell me about Laura?” She slapped the stone.

Me. She’s talking to me. Laura cried up to her. A growl emerged - a rumbling ruuuuur-grrrrr.

Her mom looked down. Right at her. Her hands patted the stone, searched around for - her phone - she picked it up. Quickly jabbed three numbers.

“I just heard it. It’s here at the library. I heard it growl.” She panted intensely. “It’s right here.”

Laura stared back, eyes wide. No. She heard sirens and footsteps drawing near, and she ran.

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

“It’s down there!”

“Check up Lincoln!”

“It won’t get anyone else!”

Ten, maybe twelve people. All armed. Laura turned around, went away from town. Ran blindly to wherever there was darkness.

She slowed down on a quiet side road. The gate ahead said she was entering the county fairgrounds - and they were closed right now. A good hiding place. Laura walked over patches of concrete and grass, and climbed over a counter. This must be a food stand when something’s in town, she reasoned. But right then, it was just bare concrete. But at least no one can see in. She laid down on the cold floor.

Laura stretched out her paws and studied them. Her black claws, still flecked with nail polish and blood. Not just her’s anymore. Her gray fur, with dark and light patches. She turned her paws over.

On her palms were patches of skin. Tough, but uncovered skin. Her skin. All that’s left of…her. She started to cry; part of her was relieved she still could.

Oh God. This is what she is now. She was a werewolf, manwolf, some monster. Just like the one that bit her - and she’d already hurt someone.

Or worse.

She turned over her other paw. Alone in the empty fairgrounds, she gazed long and hard at her paws - and her claws.

Howling. Distant, but she felt instinctively that the howls were from someone like her. Someone calling out for her. She jumped over the counter and followed their call.

Laura bounded over a horse racing track, across fields, over pasture and flat farmland, to a tall, dark row of trees. The howls kept coming from within.

She wound her way through the thick maze of trees. A deer jumped out of her way and bounced away. Laura wouldn’t have hunted it anyway. Not when she was so close. The howls grew closer and closer, and Laura slowly entered the clearing they came from.

Standing on two shaking  legs, she let out her own howl, long and uncertain. The howls continued as before. She looked down and studied the clearing.

There wasn’t a werewolf. She saw a ring of dark objects. Dropping back on all fours, she went closer. The darkness relented and she saw what they were.

Speakers.

The howls came from them. She cried out in frustration. She lashed out, scratching a speaker with her paw. Again. Again. The speaker broke apart into wires and parts.

And then she heard a whooshing noise, and felt a sting of pain in her back. Another woosh, and another sting, now in her neck.

Her eyes started to flutter shut. She tried to keep them open, but she felt so tired, so weak. 

Numb, she fell to the ground. Through closing eyes she saw a human shape among the trees. A deep, German accent echoed through the clearing.

“Got it!”

She let out a confused growl. And all was black once more.

[wanderingnewyork]

From 2019: An M train approaches the #Fresh_Pond_Road_station, #Queens

[latelyanobsession]

The thing I love most about Harringrove as a ship is how real it actually feels to me.

You gotta follow me here for a sec.

My mom grew up in a rural town in Ohio. Even smaller than Hawkins would be... and one of the things she gripes most about that town is how all the classmates she had have never left. Their whole waking reality is that tiny place and everything in it. Where the rich popular kid at her high school was the daughter of someone who owned the local gas station. Where the poor kids lived on the edge of town and worked the farms all summer long for cash. Where most kids graduated to then take over their parent's professions as the town veterinarian, the doctor, the local political leader... Where a night out consisted of one movie theater, underaged drinking, and speeding down unpaved country roads. Where most kids just married one another straight after high school and started a family without question.

They never ever left. Everything was taken at face value.

And I feel like this plugs right into where Steve is at the beginning of season 2. Having Nancy read over his early application essay. He even says that it may just be better if he goes to work for his dad after high school... that having a provided job, insurance, 'all the adult things' wouldn't be so bad. Steve is getting tired of Hawkins but he has no clear idea of how to truly be rid of it. He's starting to accept it... That he may never leave Hawkins. It's just not possible for him.

Then Billy comes into the school lot, engine roaring. And for the first time Steve is seeing something. A way out of Hawkins. A potential new future outside of Indiana. Billy's presence shows Steve that there is a wider world outside of towing the line and meeting other's expectations, taking over his dad's insurance business, being a staple in a community that for the most part never changes. Billy is a big fish being thrust into a small pond.

With Billy, Steve sees possibilities. He doesn't have to 'raise hell for four years' only to 'talk about it for the next forty' (as my mother would say). High school will no longer be the only good thing Steve can look back on. He doesn't even need to look back. Everything lies ahead. Billy is a rush of fresh air to this stifling place that Steve increasingly feels trapped by.

Not too dissimilarly, Billy comes to Hawkins feeling trapped. It's a town where every house has an American flag, and the spiciest thing on any local menu is three-bean chili. It's lackluster, boring, stuffy, and not tolerant to change. Everyone who's ever come to Hawkins from the outside eventually becomes Hawkins head to toe. Billy doesn't want that. He hates that. He is not about to accept and adopt a sleepy country lifestyle. Full of rolling hills and quiet Sunday mornings. Family dinners and church potlucks. County fairs and sprawling farmsteads. It's ridiculous, borderlining on offensive that Billy should have to adhere to such things. He wants to maintain every inch of who he is without compromise. Live in the fast lane even if its a two-lane highway through Amish country. Take in the sun on bright summer days even if its poolside and not oceanside. Smoke and listen to metal with the volume blaring and the windows down even as others shake their heads in disapproval. Wear whatever he damn well pleases while others wear khakis and polos.

The bottom line is Billy was always too big for Hawkins and Steve has outgrown it.

They need each other to survive. To get out of Hawkins. To truly live the lives they are meant to.

[shimmeringlights44]

Strawberry Wine Pt.3

a/n: so... its been a minute. I was lost on what i wanted to do with this story but i'm very happy with what i've written for this part! Its sort of an epilogue segway thing into what i'm wanting to write for these two :). So i hope you enjoy! let me know if/what you would like to see of cowboy!Austin! i have a few things up my sleeve.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

word-count: 1.3k

read part one here and part two here!

That night was the first of many adventures you had with Austin. He always knew just how to treat you. A few weeks after the night you shared under the stars he asked you to be his girlfriend, which you had a feeling was coming as he had been unusually nervous that day. 

That morning was average as you were eating breakfast when you decided it was time to go bother Austin. Usually if your day didn't start together the pair of you would find a way to one another. Most times you would meet in the middle.

The day before he had completely refurbished the dock as a storm had ripped some of the boards up. You knew he had to be incredibly tired from the manual labor so you gave him a kiss and let him go shower and get to bed in peace.

As you approached your front door you noticed a note with ‘Y/N’ written in big letters. It read “Y/N… I had some things to take care of at home today. I will be back this evening. Yours, Aus.”

You thought it was odd but at least he left the note somewhere you would see before making the trek over to the cottage.

The day was for lack of better words, completely boring. Usually your days were spent with Austin, working in the garden or even swimming in the pond. Now having to find something to do alone today was hard. What would you do? Read a book?

You ended up deciding to pick up one of the fictional murder mysteries your mother read to make the time go by. And somehow that's exactly what it did. The story opens with a woman who wakes up with a pounding headache one morning and decides to still go into work. Only the problem is when she arrives she learns she's been missing for a month. How could you not be fully invested in that?

Just as you were coming upon the climax, lights shined through the windows breaking you from your trance. You hadn't even realized the sun was setting now. You rose from your seat to go peek through the front window.

It was Austin. You didn't want to seem like you couldn't live without him but you had truly missed him all day. The past few months you had spent practically every day together. You were attached at the hip.

You swung the door open with a large grin to see Austin. The noise of the door whipping open startled him and he froze, looking at you almost wide eyed. Which then caused you to squint your eyes a bit. 

“Heyyyy y/n baby… how are you?” He said to you very sweetly. It was almost too sweet, you thought. “ Hey Austin, everything okay?” you said walking over to him.

“Yes, it's perfect now that you're here.” He pulled you in for a tight hug and planted the softest kiss on your lips as if you were the sweetest thing in the world. You wondered why he was being extra sweet, maybe he missed you as much as you missed him.

“Would my little lady like to go for a late night drive? I know they're your favorite” He said, opening up your designated passenger door already knowing the answer. “You do know me huh?” you smiled after climbing into his truck.

The drive started as usual, Aus turned the radio on yalls favorite country music station, KOKE FM, and rolled the windows down. The smell of the red dirt roads and the trees was so comforting it caused you to close your eyes and just relax into your seat. It had been a few minutes when your nose picked up a different scent. This one is more sweet and fresh. As you opened your eyes you realized you were riding past a magnolia orchard, the beautiful white and pink blooms flooding the trees. 

“Oh my gosh Aus how did we miss this place?” you said clutching the door with your head almost hanging out the window. You only heard Austin chuckle when the truck started slowing down approaching the orchard entrance. You had a slow realization as to what may be happening. You gazed over to Austin to find him with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, blushing hard as ever. 

You sat back in your seat a little breathless.  ‘Let me not jump to conclusions… we’re just doing what we always do… yea.’ you thought to yourself. He pulled yall up to an old gazebo draped in white linens. When you looked over at him again he had an odd glimmer in his eyes, as if he could tear up. 

“Y/n, will you join me under the gazebo?” Austin said with a sweet smile. “Yes.”

He slowly stepped out of his side of the truck and walked around to let you out. You took the opportunity to drink in your surroundings. The gazebo was decorated in the linens with picked magnolias delicately placed along the railings and hanging throughout the inside. You were so enamored with the sight in front of you, you didn't notice Austin rummaging around in the back of his truck. 

“I got these for you baby… I asked your momma and she told me your favorites.” he said with a blush. 

The sound of his voice prompted you to whip your head around to see him holding the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. He had them wrapped in white ribbons flowing effortlessly from the stems.

You gasped and cautiously said “Aus… what is all this?”

“Follow me’” he said, taking your hand.

He led you up the creaking steps to the inside of the gazebo then over to a bench that looked out onto the orchard. The wind was softly blowing, causing some of the blooms to fall. It was as if it was snowing in summertime. 

He then grabbed the flowers from your hands and sat them down next to you on the bench. 

He placed his hand on your thigh and confessed “I’ll be honest, I’ve never been the nervous type,” he paused “I never had a reason to be until I met you. But after spending so much time together, you make me feel whole. Like, I can always be myself.” he rested his palm on your cheek and softly continued “You’re like sunshine the way you warm me up. You never let me feel alone and in all my years I've never been blessed with an angel such as you. I guess what I'm asking is, will… will you be my girl?” 

Your eyes lit up as a smile crept on your lips. You grabbed his face in your hands and gave him the softest kisses along his lips and across his cheeks causing him to chuckle sweetly. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and buried your face into his chest as he picked you up and swung you around. 

“Yes! Yes! I would love to Austin” you wept into him.

He slowly put you down before caressing your lips with his creating one of the most intimate moments between the two of you. The feelings you brought out of each other were feelings of bliss and happiness like you’ve never known. His hands traced your back as yours reached for his hair. 

As you pulled away, a sense of calmness and comfort washed over the both of you. The look in each other’s eyes was that of love and lust. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you said to Austin with that certain haste in your voice. 

“I'd love to.” he responded with a wide grin on his face.

He took your hand once again leading you back to the truck. You scrambled inside as he ran around to his door, starting the ignition swiftly. You thought you would be returning home but little did you know Austin had the whole night planned out. 

ahhh!!! i hope you enjoyed it!! please leave me a comment on what you think! i appreciate anyone who reads, thank you so much!

[geesenoises]

i was tagged in a different (shorter) version of this awhile ago and i had it all answered and then accidentally backed out of it just as i was about to post 🙃 so this time i did it in google docs. thank you @saintgarbanzo for tagging me! deepest apologies to everyone for how long this is. i tend to go on.

relationship status single, but also i take my marriage to @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm very seriously.

favorite food dim sum. shrimp rice rolls drowned in sweet dim sum soy sauce foreverrrrr.

favorite color green, pink. i think i’m really just a very saturated color person. neons. jewel tones. love them.

song stuck in your head for reasons unknown - the killers. they bring fans up on stage to play the drums with them when they play it on tour and i watched so many of them last night. my favorites are kyle, from their scotland show (which @wolfpants will probably appreciate) and katie from manchester (brandon calls her casey, but there was a fairly credible article that identified her). but there are so many and you should look them all up!! i clap and cheer at the end of every single one.

last thing you googled "how much is a steinway” i cannot play piano, nor do i want one. i just couldn’t remember if they’re in the $50k or $100k range (probably could get an old used one for $50k if you looked, but starting around $70k depending on model. and the sky’s the limit.)

time 8:13pm

dream trip a trip that literally will only exist in my dreams is one i was supposed to take before the panini ruined everything. visiting my brother in japan. i would stop in singapore for a week first, and then go visit him and we’d maybe go on a road trip together. he’s moving back here in the spring, so it can’t happen, but i did get to see him and take a mini american road trip so thats okay. other places: italy, hong kong, taiwan, various american roadtrips, a house in the country or next to lake with all the people i love most in the world.

last book you read uhhhh this is very embarrassing. i have not read a complete book in the longest time. but the last book i started is george saunder’s A Swim in a Pond in the Rain

last book you enjoyed i was enjoying the saunders book. brain just does not cooperate.

last book you hated reading i’d have to have read something to hate it

favorite thing to cook/bake either things that are low effort, high reward (my favorite brownie recipe), or things that are high effort to make, which makes it very expensive to buy or source, so i must supply it for myself. the pinnacle of this for me are canneles. my favorite pastry ever, especially fresh. i think i will go make myself some chocolate cake now tho.

favorite craft to do i’ve been very into knitting since i started last year. so far i’ve completed: a scarf for myself, a hat and scarf for my friends’ toddler, a shawl for my mom, a hat for me. working on: a shawl for me, a sweater for me, a cowl for a friend. 

most niche dislikes the phrase “have a good one” feels too vague for me. though i’ve mellowed on it somewhat over the years. i hate bell peppers. i think they ruin anything they’re in. traffic lights on roads where the speed limit is 40+ mph. (which is like in many places in the US, but god, it’s horrible trying to stop in the right time/place for the red at that speed without slamming the brakes.)

opinion on circuses i don’t know enough about present day circuses to have an opinion, tbh. might have to go change the “last thing you googled” answer shortly.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what’s the worst way you’ve gotten lost? i think i do! i don’t think i’ve ever gotten lost real bad, but i’ve been unable to find something and had to wander. i was in shanghai for an overnight layover and made the mistake of leaving the airport without getting cash. you couldn’t buy metro tickets without cash and we needed to get to our hotel. it was about 9pm. i wandered around the airport train station looking for an atm google maps was telling me was nearby while my dad waited with our luggage. couldn’t find it. had to find the nearest bank. jammed my card in the wrong slot and almost lost it inside the machine. a pair of nail clippers in my backpack saved me. i managed to use them like tweezers to pull the card out. finally got money. but on top of that, uh, let’s say the airplane food was not agreeing with me. so. it was a difficult hour for me. i never travel without nail clippers now.

last show you watched gamechanger, a game show where the game changes every time. it’s on dropout.tv and you should look up clips on youtube if you need a laugh.

currently watching nothing, but probably the sandman is next on my list.

currently reading nothing omg. i’m even between fics.

current obsessions welcome to mountport. eva noblezada. my backyard stray cat. finishing my ex-wireless fic. trying to figure out the ideal shampoo/conditioner situation for my head. this drarry fic that's a wip. every thing i talked about above. you know, normal things.

i'm just tagging people for attention. let's be transparent about this. do it if you feel like it!! @makeitp1nk @phoebe-delia @basicallyahedgehog @sorrybutblog @m0srael @cavendishbutterfly @corvuscrowned (who i know is away but 🤷🏻‍♀️)

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

[vehicleservices]

Top Tourist Places Near Mumbai

Are you looking for the tourists places near Mumbai? So stop further searching. You are on the right trek! This article will gives you some virtual glimpse of your next trip. Mumbai! the city of dreams is one of the popular city of India. It is the growing as the financial capital of India it is also hold the beauty of Western Ghats and Arabian pearls in it’s territorial reach. So with this article get ready to do a virtual dive in the beauty of near by tourists destinations of Mumbai by booking cab from CabBazar.

Places to visit near Mumbai

Lonavala, Maharashtra

Amid the captivate Sahyadri range, Lonavala is a popular gateway for people of Pune and Mumbai. Especially if you are looking for an exciting road trips, Lonavala is perfect destination for you. Pleasant weather and soothing ambience of town creates Lonavala a refreshing place to visit. Further there are many adjectives that are often associates with the charm of Lonavala like the ‘Jewel of Sahyadri’ and the ‘City of Caves’.

2. Khandala, Maharashtra

Decorated with many beautiful waterfalls, lustrous valleys, verdant greenery and picturesque ponds, Khandala offers a perfect escape from the mundane life. A large number of people throng this place during the monsoon season to relish the salubrious climate, spectacular views and charming green surroundings.

3. Kamshet, Maharashtra

A few kilometer distance from, Kamshet is a ideal hill station near Mumbai. The beautiful town is known as the “paragliding paradise”. There is no better place than Kamshet to indulge in the thrilling adventure activity not much of a thrill-seeker then you can spend your time enjoying the natural scenery, fresh air a luxury these days and stroll through the small villages laced around this quaint hill station.

4. Igatpuri, Maharashtra

Are you looking for a trekking trip near Mumbai? Igatpuri is a wonderful town that host the great trekking trails to the visitors. Nestled in the lap of Sahyadri Range the town is home to several highest peaks. That invites the tourists with its green lofty mountains, cascading waterfalls and eye widening sceneries.

5. Alibaug, Maharashtra

Stretches on the bank of Arabian Sea, Alibaug is perfect weekend holiday places near Mumbai. The town is surrounded by the sea from three sites and offers plethora of tourists sites especially beautiful beaches that makes it renowned as “mini-goa” of Maharashtra. That are visited by thousand of tourists all around the year.

[writing-gifts]

part 9 of the incubus!doppio au aka we'll make it work

its been a long while since the last update so super brief recap: reader found a frog transformed gio in the forest and is currently on their way to one of his relatives to reverse it!

AO3 Link

List of parts

tag list: @wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind @risottosplug @ohohimhere @ppribcess-br1 @greatpostunknown @cremaopinios

------

You gather your few belongings while Doppio readies himself in the bathroom. Once he was finished all of you would be heading straight for the train station. Abbaccchio watches you from the bed like cats tend to. However, the end of his tail twitches back and forth signaling that he’s agitated about something.

You zip up your bag and smirk. “You’re already annoyed and the day just started.”

“Hmph, I’m not exactly looking forward to hiding in your bag again,” he says.

“Oh please. You can get out as soon as we're outside and then it's 5 minutes tops when we get to the station. You’ll be okay.”

You move your backpack next to the dresser where Giorno still sits content in his container of water. You'd clean that up right before leaving so he could get as much moisture as possible.

“About last night--” Abbacchio starts.

Giorno opens an eye at that, but you barely react because of course he knows. You and Doppio weren't exactly being very quiet. You had just thought the cat wasn't interested in bringing it up (and you preferred it that way), but would he really be Abbacchio if he didn’t?

“Doppio has it under control so can we not argue about the same thing again?” You ask without looking back at him, though it was more of a plea than a question.

Before the feline can dissent, Doppio exits the bathroom. His hair is done up, though a few strands stick out from his braid.

You quickly switch your focus over to him. “Ready to head out?”

He moves a piece of hair out of his face. “Uh huh.”

“Okay, let me just get Giorno.”

After you move the frog out of his container and into your jacket pocket, you quickly clean up his makeshift “pond” and herd everyone out of the room. The walk from the hotel to the station doesn't take too long though you're very hungry by the time you arrive. You didn't have time to eat a full meal beforehand, but fortunately you packed snacks.

You chew on a granola bar on the train. You try to be careful but stray crumbs litter your lap. “You sure you don't want any?” you ask Doppio. He sits next to you, staring outside the train window at the passing landscape.

Your friend shakes his head. “I'm not hungry.”

You continue snacking on the sugary bar before speaking again. "Do you even need to eat food? You said you don't need sex and I’ve obviously seen you eat, but how does it exactly work?

Doppio leans back in his seat and places his hands in his lap. “Both sex and food give me energy, but the energy from food doesn't last long. I could overfill myself and be hungry 2 hours later. And food doesn't help with sleepiness either so I need to actually go to bed. Sex cures both and lasts longer.”

The explanation was clear and concise. He must have explained it many times before. You purse your lips still confused though. You had sometimes seen Doppio go most of the day without food so things weren’t adding up...Unless he was still having sex sometimes?

“...But the last time you ate was yesterday?”

"Yea but recently I've had energy that seems to come out of nowhere. I even feel fully rested though I wasn't able to get back to sleep last night.”

“That’s strange. Do you remember when you got these boosts of energy?”

He thinks for a moment. “...They were a while ago, so other than yesterday and right now, not really.”

“Yesterday?”

“After we got off the train and were walking to that fast food place. I still felt exhausted but it was definitely way better than before."

He did seem more awake and less irritable after you had finished eating, but other than the food you didn't know what had helped.

"Well try to keep it in mind. There's most likely a connection,” you say.

You finish up your bar and put the wrapper in one of your backpack's pockets, jostling Abbacchio in the process. You ignore his displeased grumbles and continue speaking to Doppio. “You know you're very different from what I’ve read about incubi. Like with how all this energy stuff works...Is this how it is for all incubi and succubi?”

“Most likely not.” He pauses and starts to jiggle his leg. “‘Er...I’m actually only part incubus.”

Your brows raise. “Wait really?”

“I'm half human, half incubus. It's just easier to say I'm an incubus though with how I was raised.”

That has you reconsidering many things, especially about Diavolo. He wasn't a demon possessing a demon, he was a demon possessing a half human! You need to tell Bruno this as soon as you get back.

------

Early afternoon your group reaches its destination. You and Doppio walk outside of the station into the fresh air. The sun shines down directly on you but luckily it isn't unbearably hot. A distance from where you both stand is a gravely road cutting through the unruly grass.

Once you get far enough away from the small group of people leaving the station, you let Abbacchio out of your bag and move Giorno out of your pocket and onto your shoulder. You then pull out your phone and open your GPS to get directions to the farm.

It’s an hour and half of walking along the road and taking breaks under the shade of the sparse trees before a small house in the midst of a field comes into view. There’s also a barn not too far away.

You plan to go up to the house and knock on the door, but part way there a man calls out a greeting to your group from a fenced area filled with chickens. His size is almost intimidating but his face is kind. He seems to be in his mid to late 50s but looks very fit. He jogs up to your group before glancing at Abbacchio who is sitting a small distance behind you. He then raises a brow at you most likely due to the amphibian on your shoulder.

"I don’t believe I’ve seen you lot before, but what can I do for you today?" the man asks. You notice his light English accent.

"Are you Jonathan Joestar?” you ask.

“Yes, that's me.”

You glance at Giorno and move the shoulder he sits on forward. "Okay this’ll sound crazy, but this is your nephew and he was turned into a frog."

Giorno readjusts his position and looks up at Jonathan. "Uncle it's me Giorno. I ran away from home."

The man's brow furrows and he steps back involuntarily. "Giorno? What happened to you?”

“I'll explain later. I need you to change me back first.”

He collects himself (as best as he can) and nods. "How do I do that exactly?"

“He needs a kiss from royalty,” you say. “Like the story but it doesn't have to be a princess or prince.”

Jonathan rubs the back of his neck. “But I'm no longer royalty.”

“That's fine, the person just had to be at some point. I don't know how it works but Bru--the witch told us it would still count,” you say.

“Well if it’ll help Giogio then there’s no point asking any more questions.”

You let Giorno climb onto your palm and pass him over to Jonathan. The farmer lifts Giorno up with both hands and places a kiss on his small froggy head.

Before you can really take in the silly scene, Giorno begins to glow. A glow that increases in intensity to the point that it feels like looking at the sun. He jumps off Jonathan’s hand just as his body starts to take a different form and size. For a moment there’s a lull and then suddenly a firework of sparks shoots off him. Everyone around him shuts their eyes.

When you open your own, the sparkles are gone and their place is a well dressed young man with immaculate styled blond hair flowing part way down his back. He looked laughably high class next to the rest of you.

You’re still taken aback by the display of magic you had just bared witness to and end up wordlessly gaping for several seconds before you can properly speak again.

“I-I did not expect you to look like that!”

Giorno looks at you, unbothered by your inappropriate outburst. “What did you think I'd look like?”

“Um I don't know, but the blonde hair wasn't there...”

Unlike you, Doppio and Jonathan look mostly unaffected by Giorno’s transformation.

Jonathan gives the blonde a relieved smile. “Erina is going to be so happy to see you, Giogio. It’s been so long since your last visit.”

“I would visit more often but you know how Father is.”

Jonathan's smile becomes forlorn. “Yes, unfortunately.” He turns towards you and Doppio. “Thank you for bringing Giorno here.”

Unsure of how else to respond, you smile and accept the thanks.

Doppio doesn't verbally reply but also smiles.

“Can I get your names?”

“I'm _____ and this is my friend Doppio.” You point over your shoulder. “And Abbacchio is the cat that's following us. He’s the witch’s...pet.”

Doppio gives his own greeting and Abbacchio continues to stare silently.

“What an interesting group,” Jonathan says most likely in reaction to Abbacchio.

“_____ found me in the forest and convinced the witch to reveal how to reverse it. Then they made a 2 day trip to get here.” Giorno looks at you, his smile kind and genuine. “Thank you.”

“Oh you're welcome. It's no problem really...” Your statement feels unfinished as you had started it but didn’t know where it was going.

“It means a lot to me though. Who knows where I’d be right now if you hadn't found me in the forest.”

You can feel yourself grinning way too hard. So much praise could be overwhelming at times. In an attempt to try to force it down you look elsewhere and end up locking eyes with Doppio. He looks like he wants to say something but he just turns away instead.

“Well now that that is taken care of, why don't we all head inside,” Jonathan suggests. “I’m sure you're all tired from traveling here so you can stay as long as you need.”

“Just the night is fine. I have work on Monday so we need to head back early in the morning.” You hadn't really thought about work the whole way here, but now that you did, it has you wanting to stay longer.

“That’s too bad. The least I can do is ask a friend to drive you to the train station in the morning so you don't have to walk back.”

“That would be great, thank you!”

-----

As typical for you, you lay wide awake.

When you first hit the bed the dregs of your energy seeped out of you and you were out cold. Unfortunately you had woken up randomly a few hours later and couldn't get back to sleep. Abbacchio had even run off when you wouldn’t stop moving around to get comfortable again.

You get out of bed to leave the guest room and make your way quietly to the living room.

Doppio lays asleep on the sofa. You tiptoe towards him and gently poke his freckled nose. It immediately twitches before he rolls on his side to face the back of the couch. You hold back a giggle and instead gently shake him awake. He grumbles before laying on his back again.

His eyes open a sliver, but it takes a moment for him to process your presence. “....____? What’s wrong?”

“I can't sleep. Soooo I was thinking: Why not invite Doppio?”

The incubus doesn't get flustered like you expect. “Huh--Invite where?”

“Do you want to share the bed again?” you ask more clearly.

His stutters bring a pleased look to your face, but eventually he manages to answer.

“Um okay.”

He gets up with his blanket and pillow and follows you to the guest room. The lamp light in the room reveals Doppio's flushed face. You then both get into bed, Doppio a bit awkwardly but it’s a much bigger improvement from the hotel. Once he lays next to you, you tell him to turn around. He nods and lays on his side, his back facing you. You throw your arm over him before settling up close behind him. The hair that sticks out of his messy bun tickles your face.

“Woah, your hair smells really nice!”

Doppio smiles to himself. “I’m trying this new shampoo…”

Even though you still weren’t sure what to do about your feelings, you did know that you wouldn't mind being able to do stuff like this more often.

------

You hadn't had breakfast yet since Erina insisted on feeding all of you. She let you know that the food was usually ready around the time Jonathan finished his morning chores. So you decide to wait outside while Doppio gets ready. It was going to take awhile for him to finish styling his hair in that complicated braid he usually wore.

You gently sway back and forth on the porch swing while watching Giorno help his uncle tend to some of the cows. They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation but they seem to be enjoying their time together. Abbacchio lays curled up next to you sleeping. You wonder what cat things he had gotten up to last night since he didn't return to your room.

Half an hour later, you’re all inside eating. Doppio didn't want to, but Erina wasn’t having any of it so the incubus tries to eat enough that it looks convincing. The incubus appears well rested so you assume he must have gotten good sleep, but maybe the surge of energy was happening again. You’ll have to ask him about it later.

After a delicious fry-up and nice conversation that you and Doppio mostly listen in on, you start preparing for the trip back home.

“Giogio you have everything?” Erina asks.

“Yes aunty,” Giorno replies.

“Ah I still can’t believe how much you've grown since I've last seen you. I'm sorry we couldn't be around more often and I really wish you could stay.” There’s an underlying sadness in her voice.

“It's not your fault...”

You and Doppio sit together in the living room waiting patiently for your ride. The walls are thin so the two of you are unintentional auditors of the conversation taking place in the dining room. Either way you thought it was nice how Giorno’s aunt and uncle were so caring of him.

Before the family can join you and Doppio, ringing sounds from the kitchen. You hear the phone being answered and a moment later everyone walks into the living room.

“Speedwagon's outside,” Jonathan informs you.

Giorno picks up the bag full of items his family had packed for him--food, a phone, and hygiene items along with some clothing that was quickly bought yesterday--before walking outside. Doppio follows out next with his own stuff.

You’re about to yell out for Abbacchio since he hadn’t been waiting with you and Doppio but you see him brushing against Erina’s dress. She bends down and pets him on the head. You almost roll your eyes at the sight knowing the type of cattitude you had to put up with from him. Even before you found out he could talk! Guess he was more fond of older folk.

While loading everything into Speedwagon's truck you ask Giorno a question. “Are you sure you don't want to stay here with your uncle and aunt?”

You had talked with the man the day before about living arrangements. For now he would be staying at your home, but you felt he would be more comfortable staying with family.

“I'm sure. If my father finds out that I'm staying here--which he would eventually--he’ll cause a commotion.”

You pause what you’re doing. “Does he really dislike Mr. Joestar that much?”

“Yes and he’s unreasonably petty. It would be better if I reside somewhere else until I can get on my own feet. Or until he’s properly dealt with.”

Jonathan really didn't seem like the abrasive type at all so it sounded like a one sided sibling rivalry to you. But it wasn't really your business so you don't pry anymore.

Your group says one last goodbye to Jonatahn and Erina before getting on the truck and departing. Giorno and Doppio insisted on you sitting in the only passenger seat. And Abbacchio joined you, but you can tell he hates being in this loud and shaky truck. It was better than being in the cargo bed though. Speedwagon opened the back window so you all could still talk.

"My home is pretty small. I hope that it isn't too uncomfortable," you say. Along with Doppio sometimes staying for days at a time. It would definitely feel crowded.

“I feel slightly ashamed to say this, but I might be somewhat sheltered so it’ll take me some time to adjust,” Giorno replies.

“Well if you're anything like your uncle im sure youll get used to it Giorno,” Speedwagon chimes in.

The more you learned about Giorno, the more curious you became about his life.

“Well I have to work a decent amount of the time so you'll at least get some space, if Doppio isn't there. But there’s a guest room that you’ll have all to yourself.”

Doppio frowns. He spent more time in your house than you knew, and it wouldn't be as relaxing with someone who wasn't you there. Unaware of your friend’s disapproval, you stretch your arms in front of you, careful not to disturb the overstimulated cat on your lap. This not so small adventure was a nice change in your usual surroundings and schedule, but you were ready to get back to your own home.